Convicts - Frerard

Chapter 1

Frank's heart was painfully hammering against his chest accompanied by a lump in his throat as the cell door shut with a loud 'clang',  sealing his fate.

Frank slowly turned in a complete circle, inspecting his cell.

 He was all alone, but on the top bunk there were books and drawings everywhere so he knew someone else occupied this space and would be sharing it with him. 

Frank sat down on the bottom bunk hesitantly. 

Never in a million years did he think -or would even consider- ending up here.

Prison wasn't a place for someone like Frank.

 He was only seventeen and wasn't exactly stable. The cops found that out when they made him change into the orange uniform and saw that his arms were covered in years worth of scars. Plus, he was a wimp- there wasn't a single place on him that maintained muscle.

Maybe he should start working out.

This was definitely not fair. 

Frank didn't belong in a place like this. 

Sure he stabbed his stepfather; but he had an extremely valid reason for it.

But no one would listen to him. No one ever listened to Frank, he had always been ignored and that was part of the problem to begin with.

Maybe if  someone had actually listened, this all could have been prevented.

Frank curled up on the bottom bunk, turning his back towards the cell door.

Tears fell from his eyes without his permission and before he knew it, he was sobbing into his orange jumpsuit sleeve to stifle the sounds. Eventually, the world around him faded to black.

----

Frank groaned when he felt someone poke his cheek. When he didn't move, there was another poke. 

Frank cracked his eyes open and was met by two hazel eyes staring intently into his, the stranger only a few centimeters from his face.

Frank jumped, his heart rate picking up drastically.

"Hello," the boy said in a raspy voice that practically screamed 'smoker'.

"Hi," Frank whispered, looking anywhere but at the man who didn't even blink.

"Well, Pansy, not so nice to meet you but.... Bottom line... make sure you avoid: eye contact, bumping into someone, bending over, falling asleep outside of the cell, showering, and eating. Maybe you'll survive," his eyes scanned over Frank who sat in shock and he smirked, "Probably not though. Oh and of course; don't EVER drop the soap."

He giggled, disappearing to the top bunk. 

Frank swallowed hard. 

There were only a few minutes of silence before the boy's face appeared upside down, "By the way, what's your name Pansy?"

He sighed, "Frank."

The boy just grinned wider, "Gerard," and then he was gone again.

--

Gerard was right of course. Frank had zero chance of surviving even though he tried hard to follow all of Gerard's blunt instructions. 

Hell, poor little Frank tried to avoid people altogether; sticking close to Gerard because he was the only person that was trustworthy enough in this prison.

Well trustworthy wasn't exactly the word; Gerard's wicked grin was unsettling and he wasn't exactly friendly.

But he didn't seem exactly uninviting, just.....odd.

A week after Franks arrival, it was Sunday- free day. 

That's the day where you can either choose to stay in your cell all day or go out to the courtyard for activities.

Being out in the sun all day -minus bathroom trips and lunch- didn't seem appealing to Frank honestly. So he settled with hiding in his cell for the day.

He wasn't exactly feeling well anyway.

He felt dead inside and honestly he felt physically weak as well. Maybe he was getting sick.

Gerard didn't speak to him, just tossed him a book before leaving.

Frank was thankful for the distraction.

It was later in the day that it happened.

Frank was resting on his bunk, the book opened to the seventh chapter; he wasn't reading however.

Small snores escaped his mouth.

He was pulled back to reality when he felt something heavy on top of him.

His eyes shot open just as a hand was placed over his mouth.

It was a bigger man- Mark if Frank remembered correctly.

Gerard had warned Frank to avoid the man like the plague, but hadn't explained why.

Frank understood now.

The man had efficiently pinned the unsuspecting boy to the bed and was already starting to work on opening Franks jumpsuit.

Frank screamed through the man's hand, but no help came. 

Most of the guards were outside; very few inmates chose to stay locked in a cell all day vs being outside with some sense of freedom.

Frank fought off the assault as much as he could, but in the end he was left a broken sticky mess.

 "Thanks faggot," Mark chuckled, zipping up his own jumpsuit.

"Takes one to know one." Frank regretted the words almost instantly as a punch met his face.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?!" The voice was deep, dangerous.

Frank shuddered, curling into himself.

"Just having some fun Gee; can't let you have him all to yourself."

Through his blurred vision, Frank saw a figure cross the cell quickly.

 Before Mark could do anything, Gerard had him pinned to the wall.

He cut off his air supply with one hand, the other resorting to beating the mans face in.

Of course, THAT is when the guards came around on patrol.

It took three officers and a taser to remove Gerard from Mark's unconscious body.

Frank tried to tell the officers to stop; to tell them Gerard wasn't the bad guy but he was ignored. Like usual.

As Gerard was roughly hauled away, his blazing eyes met Franks.

"I'm sorry."