Getaway Mile - Frerard

Chapter 2

Gerard got dressed slowly. He chose a shirt thoughtfully, carefully, for no specific reason except he wanted to buy time. He was thinking less about what to wear and more about how much he might regret what he was doing. Frank slept soundly as he pulled his jeans over his hips and buttoned himself up. Those jeans didn't look good. Change. Again.

He knew he had to do this alone. As much as he loved Frank—as much as he'd helped him through Chantal's death and everything else— this was his thing. And he really didn't think it was a good idea for Frank to be face to face with the guy that basically tried to kill him.

So why was it okay for Gerard to be face to face with the guy that bruised his ribs BECAUSE he wanted to kill Frank?

Gerard didn't know yet.

He wrote Frank a quick note explaining why he was leaving, and with every letter he felt more and more guilty. He kept glancing at Frank's face as he slept as he wrote. He had no idea. He'd be so angry with him when he read this. No amount of 'I'm sorry' that Gerard wrote would help. What he was doing was just wrong. And he knew it. And really was sorry.

Finally, he walked over to Frank, still sleeping soundly on Gerard's bed. His eyes were twitching a bit, and he shifted, forming a tighter ball with his body and scrunching his face up. It was like he knew what was going on; it was like he was trying to fight it in his mind. Gerard leaned down and moved some hair out of his face, then kissed his forehead. He left the note on his bedside table and covered him up a little more.

"I love you," He whispered gently, "And I'll be back in a couple hours."

Gerard gently shut the door behind him, taking a deep breath as it shut. He couldn't bear to think of how Frank was going to react when he woke. So he didn't. He left instead, with other things on his mind.

***

"A visitor?" Gerard heard him say down the hall, "Who the hell wants to see me?"

His question was answered as he turned the corner and saw the black haired artist with the bags under his eyes on the over side of the window. He nodded and stepped away from the guard, sitting himself down at the window and picking up the phone. Gerard did the same.

"Hey, Jimmy."

"Hey, kid." Jimmy replied lightly. "Come to tell me someone else died?"

Gerard shook his head. "No." he answered, "I—I'm sorry." He almost went on, but held Jimmy's gaze and just kept his mouth shut. Jimmy stared back, eyes narrowing.

"You're sorry." Jimmy repeated. With a more frustrated tone, he continued, "You're SORRY? You came here to tell me that you're SORRY? Do you really think that I am in any position to accept apologies? HUH?!"

"NO!" Gerard said back in shock, "I—I mean—I don't know, I...I just feel like..." he paused and shook his head. "It's all gone, Jimmy. All that art—it's gone. They took it down, covered it up, painted over it. Everything is gone." He looked down at himself and wiped his eye. "And I feel like it's my fault—all of it. Especially Chantal. She didn't deserve to die; I did. She saved me from you and now she's gone. I'm sorry."

Jimmy looked into Gerard's eyes and took a moment, closing his eyes and rubbing them. "I'm not mad. It wasn't your fault."

"But—"

"NO, GERARD, LISTEN TO ME." He ordered, "It's MY fault. I went after your boyfriend, I drew it out, and I got you involved in the first place. I deserve to be in jail but Chantal...Chantal did not deserve to die. You don't either." He paused and swallowed, forcing back tears, "Chantal is dead because of ME. She told me to stop, to go home, to take a break and get a job or settle down and I didn't listen. I didn't listen when she told me she wanted to see her family; I didn't listen when she told me how unhappy she was. I drug her from place to place until she finally got her wish—to be back home in Jersey. But I wasn't done. I forced so much more illegal shit on her and put our wedding off for months. I ruined her life. And she stuck with me because for some screwed up reason, she still loved me. She wasted her life on me, and I wasted my life on that worthless art that is gone now, and might as well have never existed." He paused again, calming down as Gerard took it all in. Finally, he finished, "None of that matters, Gerard. It's petty. You gotta face the facts: if life gives you a chance to make something of yourself, you don't give it up for ANYTHING. Because I promise you, whatever you gave it up for is temporary. There will come a time when you gotta choose between your life, and the life of someone you love."

Gerard waited a moment before asking, "Why can't I have both?"

"Because life isn't that generous." Jimmy answered.

No one said anything for a long time, but suddenly, Gerard was thinking about Frank and wondering what he was doing. Suddenly the guilt he had for sneaking off was multiplied by ten. He wondered if he was awake yet. He got chills. They were leaving for California in August...what if—

"What really did me in," Jimmy interrupted his thoughts, "Was what they told us after she died."

Gerard scrunched up his face. "What? What'd they tell you?"

Jimmy stared at him, pain clear on his face and in his eyes. "You really don't know?" Gerard shook his head. Jimmy sighed and put his head down. "Well I guess I'd better tell you. Gerard, Chantal..."

***

Frank's eyes were bleary with tears, but they were mostly out of anger. He didn't know what to do with himself. He yelled, cried, kicked things; luckily Gerard's parents were gone for work already. How long ago did he leave? And just a note? Was he okay? He thought about calling but knew he had to talk to Gerard face to face about this. He had to know why. Just...why.

He never thought Gerard would run away.

Suddenly, he heard the front door slowly open and close. Frank rushed downstairs, to see the asshole himself leaning against the door with his eyes shut.

"How DARE you!" Frank yelled as he soon as he was in his sights, "A NOTE, Gerard?! All I get is a fucking NOTE?!"

Gerard opened his eyes to see Frank across the room, approaching quickly with the note still in his hand and crumping. "Frank..."

"And you don't even have the DECENCY to explain it to me in person. I would have been okay with it, Gerard, if you hadn't gone BEHIND MY BACK AND SNUCK OUT!" Frank raged, "God, it's like you're ME or something!"

"Frank, I—"

"What, Gerard, what's your fucking excuse?" Now, he was close enough to see his eyes which were red and swollen, still watery and dripping with tears. All his rage left in an instant. He swallowed. "Gerard...what...what happened?"

Gerard swallowed and took a deep breath. "Chantal was pregnant."

Frank dropped the note and embraced Gerard in a hug. They both cried. They didn't stop for a long time.

***

At their first hotel room, Gerard laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Frank joined him, taking his hand, but Gerard gave no response, showing a deep, lost look in his eyes like he wasn't there anymore. Suddenly, Gerard gripped his hand back.

"What are you thinking about?" Frank asked, assuming he was back on planet earth.

Gerard hesitated. "A way to make life more generous."

He didn't say anything more; he simple rolled over, turned off the lamp, and slept. California: only two days away. An answer: hopefully just as soon.