Three Cheers for Sweethearts [Frerard AU]

PART III: Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23 – THE GHOST OF FRANK

A/N: Okay, trigger warning for the rest of Part III, and without spoilers all I can really put is a big red label of SUICIDE. If you want to skip to Part IV, I'll put a more general recap there for you. I don't know how to end this A/N (I was ready to just write "Enjoy" and then realized how ironic and horribly insensitive that would be) so here's a nice thought instead: Sherlock season 4 is coming out before my next update.

Our seating arrangement was scrapped on Monday when we walked into Chemistry to see the tables pushed to the perimeter of the room. I tried to sit in a seat roughly where mine would be on a normal day, but everyone else seemed to be picking random ones. To my – and everyone's – surprise, Ratliff either didn't notice or didn't mind the disorganization. It was just a simple science experiment.

Ratliff had put two beakers filled with two different liquids, one deep yellow and the other clear as water (but definitely not water), on a table in the center of the room, equidistant from every desk facing her. She handed each of us a pair of goggles.

Ray was to my left. While Ratliff was preoccupied with her beakers in the middle of the room, Ray switched out his stool for her office chair behind him – perks of sitting near her unoccupied desk for a day – and anytime she was facing away from us, Ray would swivel around on it a few times and then act like he hadn't done anything at all.

Sitting in the back of the room, I watched it all happen. I just couldn't quite process it.

Somewhere in the background, Ratliff explained the instructions for the experiment, explained the experiment and what we were expected to learn by doing it, what to pour where and when, and all that jazz. We all muttered quietly to each other as we obeyed every rule she shot at us. She added in passing that the chemicals we were playing with were toxic, and as long as we had any sense at all and didn't ingest an entire pint of it, we'd be fine.

Out the corner of my eye, I could see Frank lifting his beaker to eye level with his stupid little goggles making him look cross-eyed. I almost started to smile, when suddenly the glass beaker met his lips and he poured the liquid down his throat.

He was so nonchalant about it that I guess no one else noticed a thing wrong. When the beaker was half-emptied, he set it back down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Was I seeing this right? I stared at him, trying to comprehend it. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me, but what I was seeing wasn't exactly arguable. No, that wasn't a separate drink. This was real. He was acting so casual about it that there may have been room for doubt, but I was sure of it.

I shot out of my chair, knocking it over with the amount of force I used to stand. All eyes turned to me. Frank looked at me – almost through me – with dead eyes, slowly adjusted his tie at the base of his neck, and toppled out of his chair.

He hit the floor loudly, completely unconscious. All eyes turned to him.

Ratliff gasped. She hastily flung her beaker onto a table, which clattered for even longer than it took her to sprint to hit the red panic button by the light switch. Moving faster than I would have thought she could. 

The chatter in the room got louder and more urgent, and downright more interested. But for me, the chatter surrounding me muffled, as if there was water in my ears. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. I couldn't understand any words surrounding me and filling up the room with panicked voices. I wasn't even sure they were speaking a language I could understand.

All I knew at that moment was that Frank wasn't moving, and I was absolutely terrified of what that meant. My unreliable imagination wouldn't be controlled very well in the coming hours, but the good news, if there was any, was that I wasn't capable of thinking anyway.

***

Everything went by quickly. So quickly. It was like in those movies when a character sees something shocking, and then everything whizzes around them while they stand motionless, staring past the camera to a point far away as it slowly zooms in on their frozen expression. Only this was no movie, and far, far too real.

Everyone was in a panic of some kind. A few girls were crying. Ray snapped out of his similar stare when the bell rang, and pulled on my arm in an effort to get me to move to my next class. But tell me: how was I supposed to focus, even a little, after this? Paramedics would be here to take my best friend away. I didn't even care that I'd subconsciously called him my best friend. I just didn't want him to die.

I walked like a zombie to Health, relying only on muscle memory to get me there. My eyes were blurry and out of focus, caught up in my own memory. Frank drinking that chemical replayed itself again and again in my head until it became almost rhythmic.

Absolute torture.

Somewhere in the background a clock was ticking. Sirens could be heard. Voices were jumbling together, talking on top of each other and all trying to be heard. Pencils scratching on paper. Most of the class having no idea.

Slowly, time went by, and despite its sluggish speed, before I knew it the school day was over. I didn't even remember having lunch, or Theatre. Too distracted. Maybe I had zoned out eventually from the paranoia or the fear. I didn't even care what I'd missed.

When I got home and absorbed where I was, I gradually dragged my phone from my pocket. Pressed the numbers to my password with great effort. Typed an F. Typed an R. Typed an A. His name popped up and I clicked New Message. Every individual letter I tapped out took at least three times longer than it usually would, considering all thoughts and feelings were all but gone.

As soon as you get this, please text me so I know you're okay. Alive, at the very least, even if you're not okay. I don't know what else to do.

Pressed Send. Watched the little line shoot from left to right at the top of the screen. Stared at it for twenty straight minutes, waiting for a reply. Gave up. Turned off my phone. Went to sleep.