Young and Doomed | Frerard

Chapter Fourteen

Frank was ready to kill someone.

He could picture it now; grabbing someone with his hands and jamming his thumbs into their throat. He'd use knife, and a gun, and – Alright, maybe he was being a little extreme.

Perhaps punching a wall would be more accurate, because that's exactly what Frank would do right now if he didn't think he'd shatter every bone in his hand. He'd punch every wall in this building, or kick over a trash can, or . . .

Or he'd sit alone and cry.

The idea of hiding in his bedroom back home for the next twelve hours with headphones and a blanket seemed like heaven at the moment, but God, Frank couldn't even fantasize about that anymore because he didn't have that bedroom back home.

Frank was moving.

Well, Frank's parents were. That's what the call had been about; the one so important it interrupted a floor meeting. Unfortunately for Frank, the Iero family had decided not to take their son with them. His father was being stationed in Kentucky, and all of Frank's things were being packed into a box and being shipped there. He'd been told to look on the bright side: his belongings were all organized and he could take the box with him to college, but it had been said in such a way Frank didn't believe either of his parents believed he'd ever make it out of here.

Fuck, Frank was sixteen. Did they really not believe he'd be home before then? The idea of spending two years here was beyond devastating, and he supposed they were right; the tutors here would never be enough to push him through SATs, much less into college.

Still, it hurt that they didn't want to take Frank with them. He was sure there were plenty of suitable hospitals for him in Kentucky, there was no reason Frank had to be left behind. No financial reason, Frank thought sourly. He was positive that there were plenty of personal ones.

But when Gerard walked back from lunch, Frank turned his face away quickly, hiding it in his jacket. Because, no, Frank wasn't crying, he was just upset, that's all. Not even upset; he was angry. Very angry, and very much not crying.

"Why'd you have to leave? What happened? " Gerard's face fell in concern when he saw Frank, and Frank's stomach twisted with guilt. He didn't want Gerard to worry. "Nothing," He said quickly, clearing his throat a few times. "The nurse just wanted to talk to be about something."

Gerard looked skeptical, before asking, "Wait, are you crying?"

"No," Frank scowled, and he could have scorn he saw a faint smirk flash across Gerard's face. "The tube just irritates my nose a lot. It makes me feel like I'm sick."

"Right," Gerard said, sitting on Frank's bed. He hadn't asked Frank's permission that time, but Frank found himself not minding, knowing that he would have allowed it anyway. "I'm serious!" Frank protested, and Gerard laughed a little. "Hey, I'm agreeing with you!"

Frank folded his arms, noticing that he slightly felt better already. No one had been able to cheer Frank up so quickly before; fuck, that was weird. "There's a movie on tonight after dinner," Gerard bumped his shoulder against Frank's lightly, and Frank glanced over at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Gerard said, looking at Frank with an expression Frank couldn't quite figure out. "Want to come with me?"

"It sounds like I don't have a choice," Frank scoffed.

"You don't," Gerard teased, before asking, "Are you going to tell me what all that was about now?" Frank opened his mouth to respond, but Gerard shushed him with a finger. "Don't you bullshit me," He shook his head, and Frank frowned at him.