Our Foundations from Decay

Gerards POV

After the picnic, me and Frank headed to the ice skating rink.

That picnic felt almost too romantic— the hill we sat on which overlooked the cityscape, vibrant colours from the setting sun reflecting on the skyline, and the burgundy roses which Frank gave me. Maybe Kristy was right, maybe Frank Iero does have a crush on me.

but I didn't have time to think about that because me and Frank were on the skating rink. It almost felt like a dance floor; fun, swirly lights which faded to darker, slow, romantic ones. "Pfft, its so cliche", I say while my eyes wandered around the place, letting them take everything in. "I feel like I'm in a movie" and it really did feel like a movie; it was pretty much just me and Frank in the rink, iridescent little flakes of snow swaying in the air. I had Frank's gloved hand in mine, holding on for my dear life. My eyes found his, and we just sort of stared at each other, sharing the special moment we were experiencing. I suddenly got sweaty as I realised the intimate predicament we were in— He pulled me closer, so close I could almost feel his heart beating against my chest.

"Gerard, I have something to tell you," Frank began, his rosy lips moving timidly in the cold atmosphere, "I know this is sudden, but-"

Frank stopped talking. For a second, I didn't understand why, until I saw the glinting, metal weapon propped against his head.

"move and you're dead." Warned a voice which sounded like it was said by Death himself.

The guys henchman charged at me, wrestling me to the ground as my face slammed against the numb, hard, icy floor.

I sat up from being knocked over as I watched Frank get brutally punched in the jaw.

"Are you Okay?!" I worriedly asked, putting my cold glove against his swollen skin.

"Im okay." he reassured me, gently grabbing my wrists and pulling my hands away from his face.

I heard the two guys turned to each other as a third guy walked in, muttering something.

"did you guys end up getting money? did you mug anyone?" said one of the guys. "uh no, not yet. how do we do that?" said another, " I don't know, man. maybe go up to someone and ask for money." I think it was their first time doing something like this, because they were pretty clueless. must've just been wandering around with guns in their bags and too much spare time— welcome to America.

"Let's just find a way to get out of here" Frank said, turning back to me.

"Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard with the three stooges holding us hostage" I said, feeling proud of myself for my funny joke.

frank just bowed his head down, shaking it, scoffing and chuckling at my silliness.

he grabbed my arm, skating us to the nearest exit.

we got past the gates of the skating rink, frantically attempting to unlace our shoes.

"Hey!" yelled one of the stooges, "Where do you think you're going?"

me and Frank froze, sitting there on the ground wide-eyed.

"Do yous two have some dough-money?" said another henchmen

"uhhh, no?" I stupidly said.

"let them go then." the third one said.

"I cannot believe that worked.." I whispered to Frank, who was holding in his laughter.

"c'mon!" he said.

Me and Frank had successfully gotten out of that 'hostage' situation and decided to go for ice cream.

we sat down where we once were, back on that same hill. This time, the sky was a deep navy blue, with speckled stars scattered across the sky like a paintbrush carelessly flicking white paint across a canvas.

"Hey, Gerard" Frank said, turning away from his chocolate chip ice cream, "ive uh- ive been having dreams recently,, and I think that my dream just happened in real-life"

"what... what do you mean?" I asked, wanting him to elaborate.

"well, I had this recurring dream for the past few days, and there was a cold, wet ground, and you were there with me and it was all so... scary. It felt a lot like what just happened."

he then stared at me, as if id know what the hell was going on with him

".... so, you think you're psychic??" I guessed, not really knowing what else to say.

"no! well, maybe? I don't know. I don't know what I should do."

I thought for a moment, looking at my ice cream melt, the creamy droplets streaming down my cone.

"well i think you should remember your dreams, write them down. it could be worth noting." I told him, then looked into his eyes and smiled, " take my advice with a grain of salt. I don't know what I'm talking about half the time." I advised him, then laughed at myself.

"no... that's smart. thank you, Gerard. I will write them down, maybe it'll save us in the future." I chuckled at that, but he was probably right.

"well uh, it's getting late." I say, almost nodding off on the spot.

"yeah, you're right. Wanna walk back?"

I nodded.

we finally got back home, greeted by Mikey and Kristy sharing an ice cream of their own.

"Hey Frank, just got back from a date with Gerard?" said the girl cheekily. Mikey nudged her on the elbow, trying his best to hold back his laughter.

"You're the one who's sharing strawberry ice cream with your little boy-toy. How 9th grade of you!" Frank scoffed.

"im in 10th grade! and you're the one who's in a maths class with a bunch of 9th graders" she shot back. damn, one point to Kristy

"ugh, whatever." he huffed and we walked up the stairs to go to bed.

I immediately collapsed on the bed, tired from the long... interesting day we had.

"goodnight, Gerard" said Frank. I looked over to him and he was already nestled up in bed, almost more tired than I was.

"goodnight, Frank."

he turned off the lamp light and I was left there, lying in my soft bed with the darkness surrounding me.

Me, the darkness, and my own thoughts.

Oh god, I knew I was due for another 9/11 terror.

Just me, the darkness, and my own thoughts... and Frank!

" hey, Frank..."

"Hm?"

"Remember when you said for me to tell you if Im having another 'episode'?"

"Oh, Gerard... are you okay?"

Frank turned on the lamp and sat up in his makeshift bed on the ground.

"What can I do to help?" He asked me, sincerity flashing in his eyes.

"Can you,,, tell me a bedtime story?" I asked him, trying not to crack my voice.
His eyes widened, as if he was expecting me to say anything but that.
"My mom, she used to tell me bed time stories when I couldn't sleep. Before she died."

He opened his mouth like he was gonna say something, then closed it.

I felt soft weight on the bed as he sat down next to me, tucking the blanket in above my shoulders.

"Of course I'll tell you a bed-time story" he smiled at me solemnly, stroking my cheek with his thumb which made them go a warm red.

"Once upon a time" he started, and soon after that, I nodded off to a peaceful, calm sleep.