Pretty. (Frerard, Petekey, Ryden, Peterick)

11: Jesus Christ - Our Lord, Saviour, And Condom Hider

He couldn't see, his eyes covered and he could hear nothing over the ragged breaths he struggled to take, wishing he couldn't feel at all, but it wasn't like that - it could never be just as easy as that, and he hated how it seemed like his fault and he hated that it was all he told him, and he hated that this was even happening at all.

It felt like a dream, but really more of a nightmare - the reality of the situation was certainly questionable nonetheless, but nothing tugged at his heartstrings and every nerve in his body as how much it hurt - that was real and he was horribly sure of that.

He wanted to cry, and he felt as if he couldn't stop himself, but nothing ever came as a result, finding his eyes dry despite the tears ready and waiting to unleash themselves at any moment, he just felt empty and devoid of anything but a certain kind of nothingness that seemed to haunt him for forever and he begged for nothing more than for this to stop, but he hadn't the energy or the care to do so anymore, perhaps he'd just about accepted the inevitability of the situation.

That would perhaps have been logical in any other situation, but nothing could be at all logical when his head was thrown into nothingness as his senses numbed and tears couldn't even choke their way out - he just wanted it to stop, he just needed it to stop, he just couldn't take it-

But, he had to - his voice didn't work, it didn't work anymore and for a reason unknown to him he found himself in a position where he simply couldn't make a sound, leaving him there, motionless and used, praying for it to be over soon. But God never took pity on people such as him - his mother had told him that a thousand times by now, but never had he thought it to be as true as it really turned out to be.

Maybe this was the punishment he always deserved and maybe this was what was coming for him, and even as it slowed and he regained a little of sense, he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps this had always been his fault, after all.

And he still couldn't cry, even as it felt as if it would never end and even as he almost passed out, and even as he swore he was dying right there, choking on the cruelty of the world around him - he thought it would never end at all.

But it did.

Thank everything it did, but damn everything as to how it did, because it ended in his loss and triumph of him, and he felt like he couldn't breathe all over again.

Because it all ended as he screamed out his name-

-

"Gerard!" Lindsey's voice raised above the nervous rambling of the twenty five year old, haven taken over her kitchen and biscuit tin with his tears and worries choked out at a tone inaudible.

They'd been like this for forty minutes now - Gee a quivering, shaking, sobbing mess, using up all her tissues as he tried his best not to draw to attention to the fact that he was physically rocking back and forth against the wall, not showing any signs of care when his head hit the wall with a wince worthy thud.

By now, from the fact that Lindsey had spent all of this time trying to talk to him, hug him, comfort him, give him chocolate and put on a corny zombie movie, in any attempt to bring him back into any form of a rational state, but all of her attempts were left ignored, and in Gee's eyes, pointless.

And since stubborn was practically Lindsey Ballato's middle name, giving up was simply not on her agenda, even after forty minutes of ignored comforts and hugs he'd moved away from, she had to take the fact simply, that she just wasn't going to get through to him, not like this, and clearly whatever had brought him here in a state such as this, was clearly something to be reckoned with, and if it be a someone, it would be a someone Lindsey would ensure never made it out of this alive.