Our Foundations from Decay

Frank POV

I lied on the mattress, soft sheets pulled up to my chin. I felt silly down here next to the towering bed beside me, emotionally weak after all that had gone down. My goddamn mother, always getting in the way of what's mine. I had felt so free, finally staying in my own place, finally experiencing the world by my own jurisdiction. It was invigorating, and I had never felt so alive. If only I could stay with the Way family forever. Soon i'll have to look for a new place to move to.

I rolled onto my side, smiling after seeing Gerard's softly snoring silhouette. His face was so peaceful as he slept, neatly-trimmed eyebrows devoid of any wrinkles or furrows, a smooth surface. I found myself thinking about placing my lips on the side of his head, or the sharp cut of his jaw. How would his hair feel tangled between my fingers? How flushed would he become if I caressed the delicate porcelain of his cheekbones?

Suddenly feeling perverted, I rolled back around and stared at the wall beside me. Closing my eyes, I imagined sheep jumping over clouds in a fantasy world of rainbow and sunshine.

"Screw those happy sheep." I murmured groggily as my mind shut down.

My eyes shot open as I blinked rapidly, blinded but the entirely white room I was in. My head felt fuzzy, like I was in some sort of dream.

"You ARE in a dream." Said a slightly snarky voice from behind me. I spun around, backing away from the figure.

"Woah, what? Who are you?" I squinted, mentally berating my nearsightedness. The persons face seemed to move and shift as I tried looking closer, unable to focus on any specific part of them. It felt like a stereogram, one I couldn't crack. They gave me an almost cheeky look as their form suddenly started to shift away, blending in with the walls and leaving me stranded in the unfamiliar room.

"Wait!" I called to them frantically, rushing towards them, "Come back!" My bare feet hit the ground, and passed straight through the floor. Oh my god, what? My entire leg soon submerged, a sickly chill seeping into my muscle. My bare torso soon followed, a force defying gravity dragging me down by the spine. I grunted as my heels hit a freezing, slick surface, causing me to stumble forwards and jump around like a circus monkey to avoid falling over.

"Hey."

I let out a shout as my own distorted face stared back at me.

"Get him out of here. Get him out." I watched as my own scratched up hand pointed towards a man in the distance, his striped scarf wrapped tightly around his body to avoid the chilly air. I stepped closer, but no matter how many steps I took, it seemed as though he was only getting more distanced.

"God, can one of you just tell me what's going on?!" I shouted into the freezing abyss, hugging myself close. Rigid hands, ones that felt as heavy and lifeless as the deceased grabbed onto my shoulders, digging into my skin. A venomous voice pierced through the scene, gravelly tone burrowing into my ears.

"I told you to get him out. GET HIM OUT." I tried shoving the other me away, kicking and struggling against its inhuman strength.

"Ugh- Stop! Stop it!" I cried out as pain pierced through me, body quivering violently. The last thing I saw was the man in the scarf, gazing longingly at me from the horizon.

"Frank! Hey, wake up!" Warm hands shook me, ones far more comforting than the bony ones in my dream. "Are you okay?" The concerned face of my sister looked down at me, large eyes brimming with panicked tears.

"Oh," I grumbled, my voice still gravelly from sleep, "Just a bad dream. Sorry Kristy, you should go back to sleep."

She looked at me, head tilting. "But it's already morning... I came to wake you up." I glanced out the window, spotting the grey, yet light day outside.

"Ah I see. Thanks for waking me up. Where's Gerard?" I glanced over towards the vacant bed, its duvet lonely without the man to sleep in it.

"He's eating breakfast with the others. You should join us." Kristy lightly tugged at my arm, worry still evident on her face. I let her pull me up, stumbling as I tried to stand on the creaky floor.

"I'll come down in a minute, let me get changed first." I ushered Kristy out the door, ignoring her complaints. Once her voice got drowned out by the wood between us, I took a chance to look around Gerard's room. I whistled in admiration as I spun around, admiring the magnitude of posters pasted around the room. His sense of decor held a sort of hectic appeal, creativity leaking through every crack similarly to the studio.

I hoisted up my bag and dug through its contents, nearly ripping at the holes scattered around the fabric. I grinned as I pulled on the shirt Gerard bought me, its edgy text bringing a smile to my face. 'Punk Rocks'. That's so cute.

Padding down the carpeted stairs, I was greeted by the delicious smell of bacon sizzling on the stove. I felt like a cartoon: ready to lift off the ground and float towards the delicious scent.

"Mornin' Frank. Hope your night went smoothly." Mr. Way greeted me, glancing up as he cut into an egg, its golden yolk spilling out onto the plate like ink.

"Thanks for letting me stay. I appreciate it more than you know." I replied, not willing to talk about my strange dream. I began dragging out a chair next to Kristy, but her small hand slammed on the space in front of me.

"This spot is reserved for Mikey. Sit somewhere else."

Wow. Such a drama queen.

"Look, I know you lovebirds want to hold hands under the table, but I need to sit somewhere too." I responded, holding a palm to my chest in a theatrical display of betrayal. Kristy rolled her eyes at me, but before she could retaliate Gerard pulled out the seat beside him, gesturing towards the empty spot.

I shot him a thankful wink, warmth blooming in my chest. As I plopped down on the seat, I began speaking to the man next to me.

"You ready to go to the studio? My hands are missing the guitar already." I flexed my fingers, splaying them out in front of me. Gerard nodded in response, a tinge of anticipation appearing on his face. He looked almost angelic in the hazy morning light, him and his dark hair, those umber shadows on the bridge of his flawlessly-sculpted nose. I really have to stop staring at him.

The rest of the morning was a blur of tasty food and studio preparation. I knew I likely wouldn't be able to sleep in the studio anytime soon out of fear of my mother knocking down its door, so we had decided that Gerard and I would pack up my things while we practiced.

"Let's go," I shouted to Gerard across the room as he was fumbling with the shoelaces on his feet, "We've got work to do."