If things being 'good' is defined simply by them not being awful - then things were definitely becoming better for Frank. In the week that followed, Frank made more of an active effort to be present with his friends, to actually listen to them, and try to re-engage.
The vibe he was getting now was certainly one of acceptance – more so than before, anyway. The group could, at least, tolerate his presence and would often even direct conversations towards him. It wasn't the same, and it wouldn't be, for a while. But with Gerard gone, this was the best he could do.
The only real kick in the teeth for Frank, was that he found out that the band had continued to practice in his absence. It came out as the group were walking home that Monday evening, and they all turned towards Mia's, while Frank turned towards his.
And then he realised.
"Oh. You guys... still..." he blushed hard, feeling very stupid. Of course they'd continue. Why wouldn't they? He was only rhythm guitar, after all. They'd be able to replace his parts.
Damien shrugged a little, rubbing the back of his neck, seeming at a loss for words. In fact, the whole group seemed collectively very uncomfortable. But, really – did they think he wouldn't notice?
To Frank's surprise, it was Mia that spoke. She, of everyone, spoke to him the least, with only passing words, or occasionally a school-related question. Her focus on him now, therefore, made him more than a little bit hesitant.
"It's not personal. I mean, not really. If anyone in the group had pulled the shit you did, we'd have cut them out. And I mean, Frank, we know you're trying. It's just...we don't want to get left behind again,"
To Frank's absolute mortification, he felt tears prickle at his eyes as he let her words sink in. The awful part was that she was right. It was he who had ruined everything, after all. The group had just snapped, fed up and sick of being left behind by him. As awfully as it was handled, and as much as Mia's betrayal had hurt, he knew that the whole thing was, at its core, entirely his fault.
He averted his eyes and nodded. He didn't know what else to say, and it seemed no other words were needed. He just nodded, utterly embarrassed and ashamed, and began to walk away, his shoulders slumped in dejection.
He assumed the group was watching him go, but didn't check for certain. He still had that little bit of pride, at least.
The very last thing Frank had expected that evening, was to see anyone from his group. After his embarrassing revelation, he assumed that they'd all be comfortable with a bit of space. Hence his surprise when, in the late evening, he heard a knock at the door, followed by his Mother calling
"Frankie! Your friend's here!"
Frank, for one horrible moment, thought it was Gerard. His heart thrummed in his chest and he actually felt lightheaded – he hadn't decided what he wanted to say to the Priest yet. He didn't even know if he wanted to address the issue at all. After all, it was probably far easier for them both if he just kept quiet and le the whole thing fade away. He knew, at least, that that was the most unselfish thing to do. Gerard would be able to move on, and go back to his purity and his divinity, and Frank could work on trying to fix the damage he'd caused.
At the thought though, he felt a tight ache in his chest that revealed the truth. Frank could never do that. At some point or another, he was going to have to face Gerard.
By the time Frank got to the top of the stairs, he'd worked himself up into quite a panic. When he saw Daniel standing there, though, he felt the tension spill from him. It was okay – he didn't need to deal with his 'maybe relationship' just then.
He began to smile, but it stopped dead on his face when he saw the state Daniel was in. The boy was trembling, looking like he'd been crying, and he was slightly bent over, as if injured. Frank swallowed.
"Come on up", he said softly. Daniel looked up, a little startled, and nodded. He hobbled a little as he made his way to the stairs, and had some trouble getting all the way up, but once he was in Frank's room, he at least, relaxed a little.
Frank closed the bedroom door and helped Daniel down onto the bed, biting his lip nervously.
"What's going on, man?" he asked, sitting next to him. Daniel ran a shaking hand through his hair.
"M-my brother. He um. He moved back home a few months ago and he...he's been beating me up," he said weakly, his eyes darting around the room, as if he was afraid of being caught. Frank's heart squeezed and he put a hand on his arm, his eyes soft and sympathetic.
"I'm so sorry. Have you told your Dad?" he murmured. Daniel let out a laboured breath and shook his head.
"'Course not. He'd kick him out and...and God, Frank. He's still my big brother. I don't want him to be homeless. I just...don't know what to do," he sighed. He tried to sit up, but grunted and stayed laying down. Frank nodded slowly.
"Have you told anyone? Any of the other guys?" he mumbled. Daniel nodded.
"Yeah. I...I did. I told Damien, and he wanted to beat him up for it. The thing is, that'd probably knock some sense into him, if someone came after him. He hates conflict, y'know? And I know Daniel is real big and stuff, but I....I guess I just feel nervous about him going alone," he gave Frank a sideways glance. Frank's lips tugged up ever so slightly when he realised that Daniel probably thought he was being subtle.
"You want me to go too?" he offered. Daniel nodded.
"Everyone 'cept Mia, actually. I mean, not being sexist, cause she can really kick ass. Just... she's so tiny. I think he'd try to hurt her," he murmured. Frank winced at the visual, and nodded.
"That's cool. Of course I'll help you, man. When do you wanna-"
He was interrupted by a horn honking from outside the house. Daniel gave a very weak smile.
"Now, if that's okay?"
Damien was driving, Cooter was lounging in the backseat. Daniel slid in next to Damien, to give him directions to his house, so Frank bit the bullet and slid in the back.
Of all of the group, Cooter had been the one who'd been the most passive in regards to acknowledging Frank, so sitting next to him was definitely not particularly high on Frank's list of things he wanted to do.
To his surprise though, the other boy raised his head in a vague greeting and actually shifted over to give Frank some more room. Wow.
Frank tried to keep his surprise to a minimum and just nodded back drawing his seatbelt over and leaning back against the seat. There were a few moments of silence, before Cooter leaned forward, resting between the seats.
"So, what? We go in, beat up your brother, then go?" he asked. Daniel gave a nervous laugh and shifted.
"Hopefully it won't come to that. Just go in and yell at him," he said softly. Damien sighed.
"I still don't know about this. What if we just make him more pissed off and he comes for you again?" he mumbled. Daniel ducked his head.
"he won't. I can almost guarantee it. He hates conflict. He won't risk getting beaten up. 'sides, other than Frank, you're bigger than him. That almost automatically gains his respect," he said, his lip pulling up a little in an ironic smile.
Damien sighed, meeting Frank's eyes in the rear-view mirror. Frank did actually agree – he didn't know Daniel's brother. Maybe the confrontation would only make things worse.
Still, he was walking on eggshells as it was, so he just shrugged and averted his eyes. It wasn't his place to say, really.
They arrived at Daniel's only a few minutes later. Damien stopped the car and sighed, turning back to look at his friends.
"I don't think this is a good idea," he said simply. Cooter and Frank shared a look, but neither of them spoke. They both knew it wasn't their place to speak.
Thankfully, Daniel piped up a moment later.
"it'll work, okay? We just gotta scare him," he said firmly. The three shared another look, before Damien let out a defeated sigh and opened the door, sliding out of the car. Daniel sent a shaky smile back to the other two, before following.
For a moment, it was only Cooter and Frank in the car. The former sighed.
"Don't think we don't recognise what you're doing. It means a lot," he said, not meeting Frank's eyes. For a moment, Frank was stunned. Cooter never said things like that. He was often a total closed book – it was a little jarring.
Frank smiled weakly and dropped his eyes, pressing his lips together. He shrugged, then looked back up.
"I'm still your friend. All of you – even Mia. I've been there for you guys for years. And I wanna prove to you that I'm still there for you now," he said gently. Cooter seemed lost for words for a moment. He nodded, then ducked out of the car. Frank took a steadying breath before following him out. Damien and Daniel were already approaching the house, and Cooter seemed to be taking his time to reach them, revealing his reluctance.
Eventually, though, the four friends were gathered on Daniel's doorstep, but nobody seemed to want to make the first move. Frank shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Won't your Dad-
"He isn't home," Daniel murmured, looking at the door nervously. Frank nodded, immediately falling silent. Well. There went his main argument against this. Damien put a hand on Daniel's arm.
"Maybe it's best that you go. We don't want him to get a-
"No. I wanna be here. C'mon," Daniel mumbled, shoving his key into the door and letting himself in. The other guys looked to each other, then followed behind him wordlessly, their heads bowed, their hands shoved into their pockets in matching images of solemnity.
For a while, nothing happened. They walked into the house and just stood in the hallway silently. Frank wasn't sure exactly what he'd been expecting. An immediate showdown would have been less surprising than the eerie silence of the house. It didn't even seem like there was anyone home – there was no TV playing, no sound at all. For one, blissful moment, Frank thought that maybe he was off the hook. They'd come to do their thing, and the guy wasn't home. They'd have to try again later – when they were all more prepared. For one, blissful moment, that really seemed possible.
And then, footsteps.
Frank hadn't ever met Daniel's older brother. The kid hadn't ever been there if they hung out at his place, and he'd been at college. So, for that reason, he had no idea what he looked like. He supposed, with looking at Daniel, that his brother would be similar – slim, short, mousy.
But God, he was wrong.
The footsteps stopped suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, and as Frank looked up, he was met, face to face, with Daniel's older brother.
"Hi Shaun," Daniel sad faintly. The older brother replied with a confused sounding grunt, one bushy eyebrow raising.
Shaun was built like a brick wall. He was tall, squared, and so large that he almost blocked out the light from the fixture above their heads. His hair was the same soft brown as Daniel's, but far shorter and spiked, making him look rather like a disgruntled hedgehog. His jaw jutted out slightly in an under-bite, giving him the appearance of a large, humanoid bulldog.
Frank wasn't intimidated, despite all of that. Anyone who looked like that, and targeted their rage on someone as meek as Daniel, was surely not worth anyone's time.
To absolutely nobody's surprise, Cooter spoke first.
"Hey, kid, our friend here told us you've been talkin' shit," he said confidently, chest already puffed out defensively. Shaun looked momentarily confused, eyes flickering between Daniel and Cooter, before resting on the former.
"What's going on, Dandy?" Shaun mumbled, his eyes narrowing slightly. Daniel blanched for a second, then seemed to find courage and stood a little taller.
"They know. They know that you've been hittin' me and...uh-
"And we're here to tell you to back the fuck off," Frank interjected, surprising even himself with his bravery. He swallowed when Shaun's eyes fell on him, but he persisted.
"You're his older brother, you coward. You're supposed to take care of him, not beat him up."
Shaun looked taken aback, the first sparks of anger blooming in his dead-looking irises. Cooter nodded in agreement, clapping a hand on Daniel's shoulder.
"Just 'cause this kid here's got more friends than you'll ever have, doesn't mean you gotta pick on him. Cause here's the thing – those friends are gonna come kick your ass if you touch him – or even look at him wrong – again," he said firmly.
Shaun's eyes skipped from person to person manically, his panic seeming to grow with each twitch of his eyelids.
Finally, with an aggravated hiss, he brought his hand back to hit his brother.
In the moment that followed, where there should have been a thud, there was a soft grunt – but it didn't come from Daniel.
When Frank looked up, he saw Damien – reacting for the first time since the encounter began – holding Shaun's arm in a vice-like grip, his eyes burning with rage. The elder brother was actually cowering before him, which was amusing, seeing as Damien was as quiet as a summer's breeze, and only slightly taller than him. Nonetheless, by the time Damien shoved him away, Shaun looked well and truly defeated.
"Don't touch my friend again, or we'll be back," Damien said in a clipped tone. He turned to Daniel, his eyes softening a little.
"You can stay with me for tonight," he offered. He didn't give him the chance to decline, though, and in an instant was walking back to the car.
The three remaining friends looked at each other bemusedly, before following behind, not sparing so much as a glance towards Daniel's brother.
Once everyone calmed down and had a chance to talk about the evening's events, Damien did the rounds of dropping people off at their houses. Frank didn't end up home until far later than he'd expected – but it didn't matter either way. He laid in bed, staring up at the blank canvas of his ceiling, hoping to see some Rorschach test paint splatters crash onto the plaster, giving him all the answers he'd needed. Weirdly, he'd found some disturbing parallel with the evening's events and his own situation. Gerard was weak, and vulnerable. Blindly following his faith without need for reason or question, only to have his balance thrown by one, careless boy. Frank already knew of the confusing, tremulous storms that brewed in Gerard's mind – they brewed in his own, too. As Frank lay there in the dead silence of the night, his mind was ablaze with a sudden clarity. For all his hurt and offence, he couldn't deny that he'd had some hand in the breakdown of his love affair. Gerard had been scared – he'd felt sick with fear and guilt at the act he'd committed. It was an act of love, but what is love compared to wrath, and sin? While the fire of lust and love was burning through Frank, Gerard could feel the harsh lick of damnation at every touch of Frank's fingertips.
Frank could never understand how that felt – but he knew what he had to do.
Frank wasn't good at admitting when he was wrong. He was like a bull, hot-blooded and stubborn to a fault. Still, he liked to think that he was also very self-aware. He could, occasionally, put his pride aside when it came to things – and people – he cared about. That's why, the next evening, Frank found himself on Gerard's doorstep.
It'd been three weeks since they'd last spoken; almost a month without Gerard's laugh, or the twinkle in his eye, or the slight slump when he walked heavily on his one good leg. Frank's heart was pounding in the base of his throat, and his hand felt like lead as he reached up to slam it against the door. Gerard was home – Frank could smell the strong waft of coffee even from outside. At the very least, he thought he could.
Frank had no idea how long he'd been standing outside, but by the gentle bite of cold at his fingertips, he could imagine it was a while. The soft, natural patches in the wooden door seemed so familiar to him now, like he could recite them.
He never made the active decision to knock. Suddenly, his hand was pounding against the door, the sound echoing like the cascade of the first rocks of an avalanche.
After some shuffling and a soft creak, the door swung open, revealing Gerard, bathed in the light of the setting sun. To Frank's irritation, the Priest didn't look surprised to see him – if anything, he seemed amused.
"Frank. Hello. How have you been?" Gerard asked, his voice soft. He didn't seem to be upset at all – quite the contrary. The gentle, serene look in Gerard's eyes almost completely mirrored that which had been on his face when he and Frank had first met. It was an almost uncanny resemblance that made Frank more than a little uncomfortable. It was like he'd made everything up – every moment they'd spent together only existing in the confines of his mind.
There was something, though, in his eyes. Behind the divinity, there was a glimmer of something that was entirely un-Priest-like. It was a sort of fiery burning, casting flames onto the bright hazel rings. Frank couldn't decide if it was passion or anger, and at that moment he didn't care. No matter what, Gerard did still feel it. He still felt something.
Frank gave the Priest a polite smile – though his face felt like it was falling more into a grimace.
"I've been well, thank you. And you?"
"Yeah. I've been very good," Gerard said, his voice still airy. It was difficult now, to see Gerard the way he'd been that night. Overcome in lust and love, and sweat and grit. His fingertips grabbing the wall, Frank's nails biting his hips. He wondered if he still had marks from it. He wondered if Gerard had tried to scrub Frank's touch away from his body, or if he'd lay down and let himself feel it first.
Gerard's eyes weren't betraying a thing, but Frank knew he was an open book.
After a moment of silence, Gerard spoke again:
"Would you like to come in for some tea, Frank?"
Frank was half inclined to say no. He knew he wasn't going to get what he came for. Not today. The only reason he said yes, was because of the feeling in his chest when he thought about walking away. Gerard was warm, and safe, and his. Even now, he was the summer sky in the middle of Frank's blizzard, and he needed him. He could tell that Gerard wasn't going to let him have him, but that didn't make him need him any less.
"I'd love to,"
His voice came out hoarse, and for a moment, he thought he saw Gerard's eyes soften.
It was only for a moment, though. Gerard was good at keeping composed, even now.
The scene was familiar enough. The two men sat in the living room, both with untouched cups of coffee. They didn't look at each other, but both men could feel every inch of the other, even without touching him.
Frank didn't think about everything that had happened here. He didn't think about the kisses, or the touches, or the private jokes. He didn't let himself remember the times they'd fallen asleep on the sofa together, and would wake up entwined with each other.
Neither wanted to be the first to speak, but the longer Frank sat there, the more he could feel his heart breaking. The relationship seemed broken at best, so what did he have to lose?
"Gerard, look-"
"You don't have to say anything," Gerard mumbled, eyebrows furrowing. His voice was thick, choked in his throat. He was wearing a grey sweater and jeans, but he may as well have been wearing his full Priest robes. There wasn't an inch of him that held any of his usual warmth.
"Yes I do. And you have to listen to me. You don't have to...argue, or agree. Just listen,"
"I don't want to listen," Gerard breathed.
"You're going to. Because I'm...Jesus. I'm trying to apologise, okay? So listen to me. If you love me, then listen,"
"I-"
Frank cut him off. He didn't know what Gerard was going to say, but even the possibility that he was going to tell him that he didn't love him was too much to handle. He smiled softly and took his hand.
"If you have ever loved me. Please listen to me," he whispered. Gerard's eyes softened. He seemed to be considering, for a moment, but then he nodded. Frank kissed his hand, relieved when the older man didn't pull away.
Frank took a moment to steel himself. He felt like the weight of the whole world was resting on his chest. He took a breath, and tried to smile.
"I'm sorry. What happened at the gig...I fucked up. I felt so much, being with you. I felt...joy, and love, and lust, and everything all at once. I felt more connected to you than I ever had before. You were everything, in that one moment. And then it was over and you were mad at me...and Gee, babe, it broke my heart, you know?" he sniffed, swallowing hard. He wouldn't cry. Not until he was done.
"It broke my heart. And I got scared. But I shouldn't have left you there. My baby, you were so...vulnerable. So weak. You needed me to stay with you, and protect you, and tell you everything was going to be okay. You begged me not to leave, but I left anyway." He took another deep breath
"I said I'd never forgive you – but there's nothing to forgive. I'm sorry, Gerard. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, so much. I've missed you like hell. Please, forgive me. I was an idiot, and I don't deserve your love – but I'm asking for it. I'm so sorry, my angel," he whispered, his voice becoming tight and choked at the end.
Gerard was clearly affected by his words – that much was clear. The priest sat with his hands clasped in his lap, eyebrows furrowed. He seemed troubled, but Frank was just happy for the expression change on his face. Anything was better than that cool, impassive mask.
He didn't speak for a while. Gerard just stared at the floor, as if he could find the answers he needed in the cracks in the floorboards.
Eventually he looked up. Frank couldn't tell, for a moment, what was going to happen – but then Gerard smiled, and he knew it was over.
The smile was weak, and wrought with emotions, but Frank could tell that it was the best Gerard could do right now, in terms of pretending that he didn't care. The Priest stood up, and gestured simply to the door
"Thank you for saying so, Frank. That means a lot to me. I'm glad we can put this behind us," he said coolly. Frank's heart slammed against his chest, panic rising in his throat. He grabbed Gerard's wrist, against his better judgement.
"No, Gee. Babe, don't-"
"I'll see you soon," Gerard murmured. It seemed as though something was breaking beneath the surface, but for now, he seemed composed. Frank's lips trembled.
"Gerard, please. Please, I love you," he whispered, clutching his hand. Gerard nodded.
"I..." he, momentarily, seemed a little troubled, "I know you do."
Frank fell silent. There was a moment that passed in the blink of an eye, where the world seemed to stop. The two were looking into each other's eyes, and something seemed to pass between them – a heavy, cumbersome, and tangible presence of light, and love; and something much darker. Frank couldn't tell if this was the end of them, but it was the end of something.
Frank made his way to the door. Somehow, his legs held him up pretty firmly, even though he felt like falling apart. He reached the door and turned back, his eyes soft.
"I love you," he whispered. Gerard sighed, seeming to age just from that one movement. God, he looked exhausted.
The Priest cupped Frank's cheek.
"I love you too. But you have to go," he whispered. Frank closed his eyes. He let himself bask in the warmth of his lover's touch, before nodding, and silently leaving the house for what could have been the last time.