I'm Not Okay Without You
What isn't He Telling Me
Chapter 26
Frank’s POV
Ally turned back to me, a cheeky grin planted firmly on her face. I hardly noticed Gerard moving closer to us.
“Frank, are there any last words you’d like to say to Gerard?” she asked innocently, as if this were a perfectly normal situation. I glanced toward Gerard and noticed, with a start, that he was much closer to us. All I could do was stare at him; I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even breathe. I could feel my heart banging against my rib cage, threatening to break it. Ally could see the wild-eyed fear that refused to leave my face. She smirked, then turned toward Gerard. I’m guessing she thought he was still back at the door, because she was caught by surprise when he knocked the gun out of her hand.
BANG! My heart stopped as I saw Gerard falling toward the floor. The first thought I had was of the worst; she had shot my baby and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But no, Gerard wasn’t dying, and Ally was scrambling toward the gun.
Finally, I realized what was happening and grabbed the gun. Ally was still on her knees, looking up at me with vague fear, which was quickly replaced by a knowing smirk. She thought I was weak, that I couldn’t do this. Well, I’ll show her! I cocked the gun in her face, and that flash of fear returned.
“Frank,” Gerard’s voice said. I could hear footsteps coming toward me, alerting me he was coming closer.
“Gerard, I have to get rid of her,” I said, voice no higher than a whisper. The gun was shaking in my hand; I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. Fear adrenaline was pumping through my veins, making me feel scared and strong at the same time.
“Frank, don’t you dare do what she was going to do to you,” Gerard said, tone dangerously low. Was he… threatening me? “I love you,” he continued, “but if you killed another person I wouldn’t be able to be with you.” So he was threatening me. For an insane instant, my brain told me to fire, cock again, turn, and fire. I could see the scene forming in my head, but that second shot brought me back to reality—what the hell had I been thinking?!
“But Gerard,” I protested, “She won’t leave us alone. She’ll kill us eventually. Don’t you understand that?! She’s a psycho bitch!”
“Yeah, well Frankie-pooh,” Ally’s voice broke into our conversation, “You’re going to die no matter what. When Gerard’s not around you’re going to die. Trust me.” She had found her way to her feet and was walking out the door as those last words left her mouth. Ally was gone. I couldn’t make her disappear forever now. My one chance at making my new relationship work had just… walked away.
“Damn it,” I swore under my breath, throwing the gun. It skidded along the floor and hit the wall. The stinging sensation that accompanied tears pricked my eyes, making them water and blur so I couldn’t see anything but color and vague shapes. I covered my face and dropped to my knees, silently crying into my hands. Gerard moved toward me.
‘Don’t…’ I thought weakly. But Gerard proceeded to sit by me, pulling me into his arms so I was crying into his chest, staining the cloth.
“Frank…” Gerard began softly. “It’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I could tell he was trying to console me, to make me feel like nothing could go wrong. But we both knew that wasn’t true. Plenty of things could go wrong. Plenty of things would… unless we got away. After a moment of thinking, I finally found my voice.
“I…I think we should move,” I said, my voice much stronger than I felt.
“I agree with you on that,” Gerard said, nodding. “Let’s go to New York.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking it over vaguely. “That sounds good. We have to be secretive about it, though,” I added.
“Okay,” was the reply I was given. Suddenly I was weightless, floating in the air with only Gerard’s arms supporting me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his chest, closing my eyes. Honestly, I was exhausted. I felt my body come in contact with something soft and figured Gerard had set me on the bed, though I was too worn out to actually check. Gerard lay down next to me, putting his arm around me. My eyes were closed, Gerard’s warm body was pressed against mine, I was exhausted, and yet I still couldn’t get to sleep. I drummed my fingers against the bed restlessly, opening and closing my eyes repeatedly. First I was too restless to keep my eyes closed, and then I was too tired to keep them open. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth for at least two hours. I grumbled in frustration.
“Gee…” I whispered into the darkness. “Gee, you awake?” All I got was content and even breathing from him. Sighing, I gently moved his hand from around my waist and stepped out of bed. My hand slid through my hair by way of habit as I watched Gerard. His hair was in his eyes, hovering just before the lids because his eyelashes were in the way. His chest rose and fell gently with every breath, his soft pink lips parted slightly.
“Gerard,” I whispered into the air. “You’re an angel.”
Kissing him softly on the cheek, I left the room for downstairs. When I got back into the living room the memories of just hours before hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt like breaking down again. My eyes scanned the room until they reached my guitar. I crossed the room and picked up my old beat up acoustic and sat on the couch, strumming a few random chords. This always made me feel better; I had spent many a night sitting up to write and memorize new songs I’d figured out with my sleep-deprived mind. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing a couple notes and chords down before strumming some more. After a while of playing upright, I got even more tired. Knowing I wouldn’t actually be able to go to sleep, I lay down on the couch and continued my strumming until the light seemed to fade out and my hand wouldn’t move anymore.
The sun shined at me cheerily, UV rays hitting my eyelids incessantly. I turned my face away from the window, casting shadows over my eyelids. It was in vain, though, because I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. Five more minutes was all I got before I sighed and stood up, leaning my guitar against the couch. Apparently I hadn’t bothered to do anything with it before I fell asleep last night. I stifled a yawn and walked into the kitchen with the intent of making myself a cup of coffee. I had no idea how to work the contraption [great, now I’m sounding old] and I just ended up making a lot of noise trying to figure it out.
“Wait,” I said to myself. “So this part goes here and this goes here and… hey, where does that go?”
“Hey Frank,” I heard Gerard say as he walked into the kitchen. Arms encircled my waist and I leaned into the embrace.
“Hey,” I said.
“Um…” Gerard started. He always said “um” when he was doing something he didn’t want anyone else to know about. “I’m going over to Mikey’s for a bit ‘cause I have to talk to him.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Do you want me to come?”
“No!” he said, just a bit too quickly. “No,” he said again, calmer this time. “That’s okay. I mean it’s nothing really important. It’s just brother stuff.”
“Oh, okay,” I said easily. Mikey was my best friend, and I knew if he was going to talk to someone about something he would talk to Gerard first, hands down. “We should hang out tonight. Like, the band,” I added, thinking of how fun it would be.
“That sounds good,” Gerard replied. I felt him nod against my shoulder where his head was currently resting. He moved his head from my shoulder and kissed my cheek.
“Grrr…” I grumbled. “I hate this stupid coffee thing!”
“Here, Frankie, let me get it together,” he said, laughing.
“I know how to put it together, it just frustrated me,” I protested, pouting as he took the pieces out of my hands. “And don’t laugh at me!” I added indignantly.
“Here,” Gerard said when the coffee thingy was finally put back together. “Just press the start button.” Is that a condescending tone I hear?
“I know how to work it!” I grumbled, pushing Gerard playfully out of the way and pressing the big black button that said, “START” in white lettering. Gerard giggled—yes, giggled! Guys can giggle, too!
“Shut up,” I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Why?” he asked childishly.
“Because if you don’t I’ll have to shut you up.”
“Why?” he repeated.
“Because you’re being annoying,” I said, grinding my teeth together.
“Why?” Fuck, he’s like broken record!
“I don’t know!” I exclaimed in an aggravated tone.
“…Why?”
“That’s it!” I slammed my lips against his, quieting his incessant questioning. When I pulled back and looked into Gerard’s eyes, I didn’t see the sparkle of humor and the warm glow of lust I was expecting. Instead his eyes seemed to be dead, like they were lacking the life the rest of him seemed to have. It kind of hurt me. The coffee maker beeped, signaling it was done.
“Here,” he said, turning away from me and handing me a mug. “I’m going to get going. I’ll be back in a while.” I nodded, pouring my coffee. Before I got a chance to hug him or even say ‘bye’ he was out the door. Silently, I grumbled to myself, wondering what was bugging him.
‘Gerard…’ I thought almost desperately, ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ He had this pained look in his eyes, the kind that signals when he’s going to go get so drunk he can’t remember the week before for days.
‘Damn it, Gerard, tell me what you’re thinking.’
Frank’s POV
Ally turned back to me, a cheeky grin planted firmly on her face. I hardly noticed Gerard moving closer to us.
“Frank, are there any last words you’d like to say to Gerard?” she asked innocently, as if this were a perfectly normal situation. I glanced toward Gerard and noticed, with a start, that he was much closer to us. All I could do was stare at him; I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even breathe. I could feel my heart banging against my rib cage, threatening to break it. Ally could see the wild-eyed fear that refused to leave my face. She smirked, then turned toward Gerard. I’m guessing she thought he was still back at the door, because she was caught by surprise when he knocked the gun out of her hand.
BANG! My heart stopped as I saw Gerard falling toward the floor. The first thought I had was of the worst; she had shot my baby and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But no, Gerard wasn’t dying, and Ally was scrambling toward the gun.
Finally, I realized what was happening and grabbed the gun. Ally was still on her knees, looking up at me with vague fear, which was quickly replaced by a knowing smirk. She thought I was weak, that I couldn’t do this. Well, I’ll show her! I cocked the gun in her face, and that flash of fear returned.
“Frank,” Gerard’s voice said. I could hear footsteps coming toward me, alerting me he was coming closer.
“Gerard, I have to get rid of her,” I said, voice no higher than a whisper. The gun was shaking in my hand; I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. Fear adrenaline was pumping through my veins, making me feel scared and strong at the same time.
“Frank, don’t you dare do what she was going to do to you,” Gerard said, tone dangerously low. Was he… threatening me? “I love you,” he continued, “but if you killed another person I wouldn’t be able to be with you.” So he was threatening me. For an insane instant, my brain told me to fire, cock again, turn, and fire. I could see the scene forming in my head, but that second shot brought me back to reality—what the hell had I been thinking?!
“But Gerard,” I protested, “She won’t leave us alone. She’ll kill us eventually. Don’t you understand that?! She’s a psycho bitch!”
“Yeah, well Frankie-pooh,” Ally’s voice broke into our conversation, “You’re going to die no matter what. When Gerard’s not around you’re going to die. Trust me.” She had found her way to her feet and was walking out the door as those last words left her mouth. Ally was gone. I couldn’t make her disappear forever now. My one chance at making my new relationship work had just… walked away.
“Damn it,” I swore under my breath, throwing the gun. It skidded along the floor and hit the wall. The stinging sensation that accompanied tears pricked my eyes, making them water and blur so I couldn’t see anything but color and vague shapes. I covered my face and dropped to my knees, silently crying into my hands. Gerard moved toward me.
‘Don’t…’ I thought weakly. But Gerard proceeded to sit by me, pulling me into his arms so I was crying into his chest, staining the cloth.
“Frank…” Gerard began softly. “It’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I could tell he was trying to console me, to make me feel like nothing could go wrong. But we both knew that wasn’t true. Plenty of things could go wrong. Plenty of things would… unless we got away. After a moment of thinking, I finally found my voice.
“I…I think we should move,” I said, my voice much stronger than I felt.
“I agree with you on that,” Gerard said, nodding. “Let’s go to New York.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking it over vaguely. “That sounds good. We have to be secretive about it, though,” I added.
“Okay,” was the reply I was given. Suddenly I was weightless, floating in the air with only Gerard’s arms supporting me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his chest, closing my eyes. Honestly, I was exhausted. I felt my body come in contact with something soft and figured Gerard had set me on the bed, though I was too worn out to actually check. Gerard lay down next to me, putting his arm around me. My eyes were closed, Gerard’s warm body was pressed against mine, I was exhausted, and yet I still couldn’t get to sleep. I drummed my fingers against the bed restlessly, opening and closing my eyes repeatedly. First I was too restless to keep my eyes closed, and then I was too tired to keep them open. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth for at least two hours. I grumbled in frustration.
“Gee…” I whispered into the darkness. “Gee, you awake?” All I got was content and even breathing from him. Sighing, I gently moved his hand from around my waist and stepped out of bed. My hand slid through my hair by way of habit as I watched Gerard. His hair was in his eyes, hovering just before the lids because his eyelashes were in the way. His chest rose and fell gently with every breath, his soft pink lips parted slightly.
“Gerard,” I whispered into the air. “You’re an angel.”
Kissing him softly on the cheek, I left the room for downstairs. When I got back into the living room the memories of just hours before hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt like breaking down again. My eyes scanned the room until they reached my guitar. I crossed the room and picked up my old beat up acoustic and sat on the couch, strumming a few random chords. This always made me feel better; I had spent many a night sitting up to write and memorize new songs I’d figured out with my sleep-deprived mind. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing a couple notes and chords down before strumming some more. After a while of playing upright, I got even more tired. Knowing I wouldn’t actually be able to go to sleep, I lay down on the couch and continued my strumming until the light seemed to fade out and my hand wouldn’t move anymore.
The sun shined at me cheerily, UV rays hitting my eyelids incessantly. I turned my face away from the window, casting shadows over my eyelids. It was in vain, though, because I wasn’t going to get back to sleep. Five more minutes was all I got before I sighed and stood up, leaning my guitar against the couch. Apparently I hadn’t bothered to do anything with it before I fell asleep last night. I stifled a yawn and walked into the kitchen with the intent of making myself a cup of coffee. I had no idea how to work the contraption [great, now I’m sounding old] and I just ended up making a lot of noise trying to figure it out.
“Wait,” I said to myself. “So this part goes here and this goes here and… hey, where does that go?”
“Hey Frank,” I heard Gerard say as he walked into the kitchen. Arms encircled my waist and I leaned into the embrace.
“Hey,” I said.
“Um…” Gerard started. He always said “um” when he was doing something he didn’t want anyone else to know about. “I’m going over to Mikey’s for a bit ‘cause I have to talk to him.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Do you want me to come?”
“No!” he said, just a bit too quickly. “No,” he said again, calmer this time. “That’s okay. I mean it’s nothing really important. It’s just brother stuff.”
“Oh, okay,” I said easily. Mikey was my best friend, and I knew if he was going to talk to someone about something he would talk to Gerard first, hands down. “We should hang out tonight. Like, the band,” I added, thinking of how fun it would be.
“That sounds good,” Gerard replied. I felt him nod against my shoulder where his head was currently resting. He moved his head from my shoulder and kissed my cheek.
“Grrr…” I grumbled. “I hate this stupid coffee thing!”
“Here, Frankie, let me get it together,” he said, laughing.
“I know how to put it together, it just frustrated me,” I protested, pouting as he took the pieces out of my hands. “And don’t laugh at me!” I added indignantly.
“Here,” Gerard said when the coffee thingy was finally put back together. “Just press the start button.” Is that a condescending tone I hear?
“I know how to work it!” I grumbled, pushing Gerard playfully out of the way and pressing the big black button that said, “START” in white lettering. Gerard giggled—yes, giggled! Guys can giggle, too!
“Shut up,” I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Why?” he asked childishly.
“Because if you don’t I’ll have to shut you up.”
“Why?” he repeated.
“Because you’re being annoying,” I said, grinding my teeth together.
“Why?” Fuck, he’s like broken record!
“I don’t know!” I exclaimed in an aggravated tone.
“…Why?”
“That’s it!” I slammed my lips against his, quieting his incessant questioning. When I pulled back and looked into Gerard’s eyes, I didn’t see the sparkle of humor and the warm glow of lust I was expecting. Instead his eyes seemed to be dead, like they were lacking the life the rest of him seemed to have. It kind of hurt me. The coffee maker beeped, signaling it was done.
“Here,” he said, turning away from me and handing me a mug. “I’m going to get going. I’ll be back in a while.” I nodded, pouring my coffee. Before I got a chance to hug him or even say ‘bye’ he was out the door. Silently, I grumbled to myself, wondering what was bugging him.
‘Gerard…’ I thought almost desperately, ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ He had this pained look in his eyes, the kind that signals when he’s going to go get so drunk he can’t remember the week before for days.
‘Damn it, Gerard, tell me what you’re thinking.’