Collision

4. Stop. Stop!

A/N: if you like this story I highly recommend you read it on mibba , because the layout really puts you in the mood.

He looked at me. He just watched me. His face had no emotion and he didn't move at all.

I felt like a monster. I should have known. I sighed and turned away from him.

"I-I... Frankie... I'm speechless." He whispered, breaking the sharp and tense silence. I nodded in understatement, still looking away from his beautiful, yet emotionless eyes.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, he reached out and covered my hand with his, giving it a squeeze. My gaze instantly turned to our hands then to his face which had a worried frown fixed on it. I was about to ask him about what he was thinking about but he cut me off by literally jumping on top of me and wrapping his arms around me tightly.

One of his hands went straight for my waist, pulling me as close to him as possible and the other one went to the back of my head, tangling in my hair. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. He squeezed me and petted my hair, never letting go of my waist, just cradling me safely in his arms.

"Everything will be alright. Everything. Frankie..." He whispered. He sounded even more broken than I was and was talking like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

Nevertheless, his words never fail to make me feel better.

"You promise?" I whispered, raising one of my hands which were squished between us up to the back of his neck to play with a strand of hair.

"I do. I'm gonna help you and everything will be alright. I promise you." There was an emotional and relaxing moment of silence where he just kept petting my hair and I kept playing with his.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier Frankie?" He asked me and I frowned. Why didn't I? Many reasons. He didn't wait for an answer anyway. "Maybe..." He whispered, hesitation lingering in his voice.

"Maybe I could have given you the love and care you lacked." He said bitterly, making it clear to me that he also finds guilt in himself too.

Maybe I really should have told him earlier. Maybe it wouldn't be all this bad then. It's too late anyway. I can't change the past. No one can.

***

"How does it feel? Like, do you feel it when it's coming?"

I looked blankly at my cereal and thought. Do I know when it's coming? I don't think so.

"I don't think so. I just drift into it and when I'm out of it, usually, I'm at a whole different place and doing whole different things. Also, I can't remember what I do or what happens in the real world when I'm in that trance alike thing." I tried my best to explain him.

He looked deep in thought as he sipped his coffee, a frown on his face. I realized at that moment that it actually made me feel better to tell someone. It felt amazing to have him, my best friend, my brother, helping me with my problems no matter how depressing, complicated or even stupid they were.

"Do you think it happens after certain things or actions?"

"I think it usually happens after I wish I had a better life... Which happens a lot."

He sighed. He's finally starting to understand that I'm helpless. An inner thought told me and I started to panic. I didn't want him to give up on me even though I knew I was helpless.

I let my head hang low and my hands nervously play with a loose thread I found on the tablecloth. The silence stretched further and further. I have always hated nervous silences.

"Frankie, baby... Why are you doing this to me? He asked me, his voice weak, broken and scarred.

"What? I-I don't understand baby. Where are you?" I ask into the dark room as I finally manage to find the light switch.

He was laying on our bed, his face buried under the pillows.

"It hurts Frankie. Please... Please don't do it again. Please." He begged me, his voice cracking and letting me know that he's at the edge of tears.

What the actual fuck? I thought. Even my imaginary world wasn't good anymore which was supposed to be perfect. I lost control of my life and now losing control over my imagination? I don't fucking think so.

I wasn't going to let my imagination control itself. It was my imagination and I needed to show it that only I controlled it. Only. I.

"I don't understand what you are saying and we're not going to talk about it." I ordered him with a strict face.

What happened next was completely unexpected.

He seemed to flip off at my last sentence, the broken man was gone and he was replaced by a maniac in a matter of micro-seconds. He got up off the bed and threw me a satanic look, slowly but effectively walking all over me.

My eyes widened and I backed myself but soon my back hit the wall. For a moment I wondered if I could be killed in my imagination and hoped I'd never get to learn that.

"Don't fucking tell him. Stop. Stop!" He screamed right into my face.

I jumped in my seat, like one would after waking up from a horrible nightmare. I took in my surroundings and realized I was still on the same spot. Huh... Weird. Gerard's hand was on mine as his shining eyes were on my face, shooting me worried glances.

"Are you ok Frankie?" He immediately asked me when he saw me jump and took in my horrified face.

Confusion dawned on me again, thoughts bouncing and alarms going off in my mind. What the hell was that!? I panicked. It was the first time I had ever seen him so angry, he looked like he was about to kill me.

But for what?

I recalled what he had said, that single line driving me mad, replaying itself over and over again in my mind.

"Don't fucking tell him. Stop. Stop!"

I found myself trying to block his voice out in a pathetic way, putting my hand at the sides of my head, on my ears and closing my eyes tightly. "Don't fucking tell him. Stop. Stop!" I got up from the table, tried to find my balance but everything felt like they were coming towards me, it was getting hotter and there was a really bad ache in my head. "Don't fucking tell him. Stop. Stop!"

"Frankie!" I heard Gerard yelling but his voice came from a really far distance even though I knew he was probably right next to me. I kept my eyes closed.

"Don't fucking tell him. Stop. Stop!"

I screamed out in frustration, lost my balance completely and soon found myself backed up to the wall behind me.

It was clear that he didn't like Gerard. I was so confused and I had so many unanswered questions again.

How did he know I told Gerard?

Why was he so broken when I first saw him?

What will happen if I just keep telling Gerard everything?

Would he really kill me if I pissed him off enough?

What'll happen if I die in a non-existent world?

How am I going to explain all of this to Gerard?

God, why me!?