Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

He was shaking beside me, grasping my hand desperately as he took several deep breaths. I shouldn't have forced him into doing this but things would only be a million times worse later on. They had to realize it was self-defense, they had to. Because if they didn't and they charged him with murder, it would make everything I had said a lie. I couldn't possibly lie to him; I couldn't possibly have his trust in me just completely smash. I mean, I had already fractured his trust by lying to my brother in his face; I didn't want to lose him when I was just getting to know him.

He looked at me, pleading with his eyes to get him out of here, to spirit him away so he wouldn't have to do this. I shook my head softly and deep somewhere inside me I felt something just splinter and crack. I looked away, unable to see his bright jade eyes; it hurt too much. I simply began walking towards the intimidating building, a gray tone that declared its serious nature. He looked up at it, swallowing hard, a whimper pushing past his shaking lips. I leaned towards him, kissing his lips softly, trying to make him forget his apprehension. He gave me a shaky smile as I pulled away but his eyes were still clouded with his tension.

"Take off your lip ring," I muttered, looking directly into his eyes. He cocked his head and furrowed his brow but took his hand from mine to do as I said almost immediately. He handed it to me, closing my fingers tight around it.

"Take care of it, okay?" he said hesitantly, taking his hand from mine to stuff it down his pocket. I smiled, clenching my fist tight as I leaned forwards to kiss him gently; it felt odd to kiss him and not feel the cool metal of his lip ring pressing against my mouth. He pulled away, conveying with his eyes his every insecurity. I shook my head.

"You'll be fine, you'll see." He nodded, though it was obvious he didn't really believe me, reaching for my hand. I shook my head, taking my hand from his. Hurt spread across his features, his mouth hanging slightly open from the shock I had caused. I apologized quickly, grabbing his hand again to rub my thumb gently over his knuckles. "We've got to pretend we're not together," I muttered despite the pain it caused to speak those words.

"Why? Why can't we just go in there holding hands? It's not like it's a damned crime or something. I already took off my lip ring."

"It's not a damned crime and I love holding your hand, don't get me wrong. The problem is that I don't know if they'll be homophobic or something and we can't risk that."

"I thought it was obvious it was an act committed in self-defense."

"Frankie, I don't want to argue right now. Just please listen to me," I pleaded, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at me. His features didn't soften, hurt still plaguing his eyes. "Frankie, I just want the best for you; I don't want to lose you either." His face finally softened at my confession, his arms, having been crossed over his chest, dropping to his sides. He nodded and I began walking towards the station again, waiting simply for him to follow.

He remained rooted to the spot for a moment before he finally followed, tagging so close behind me I could feel his heated breath on my neck. I looked back at him with a reassuring smile and he gave me a smile back, looking down as he began climbing the stairs towards the station. I was, unfortunately, not as graceful and I ended up sprawled over the stairs after tripping on the first step. He began laughing, simply staring at me with half-closed eyes. Grumbling about his insensitivity and helplessness, I began to bring myself to my feet. Giggling still, he shook his head, offering me his hand. If anything, at least my fall calmed his nerves; he was looking positively radiant as he helped me stand.

"Thanks," I grumbled, brushing the dirt off my clothes. He was still giggling, slumped against the railing for support. "Stop laughing," I ordered him. However, it did nothing but increase his laughter, bringing his knees in tight as he gripped loosely to the metal railing. Cursing under my breath, trying to ignore the dull pains where the stairs bit into my skin, I walked away up the stairs. He followed after a minute or so of him trying to control his erratic breathing, wrapping his arms around my waist at the landing.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, though his voice was choked as he tried to hold back another tide of laughter. He placed a butterfly kiss at the nape of my neck, making me squirm. I could almost sense his smile as he pulled apart, walking around to stand beside me. I rolled my eyes (though I was trying hard to not smile back) walking towards the large, glass double doors of the police station. I opened one, letting him go through first.

The laughter died on his lips as he entered the station, his eyes darting over every blue uniform and black accessory. He swallowed hard, staring hard at the holster of one policeman's gun and I could almost see what he was thinking. I tried to distract him surreptitiously, walking towards the front desk, brushing my fingers against his hand. He snapped out of his blatant staring, his footsteps echoing in the open space as he pursued.

"Hello," a woman in uniform greeted us, never once looking up from her paperwork as we walked near the desk. "What can I do to help you?" she asked, looking up to our faces, a smile crossing her red lips. I was determined to be the strong one here since Frank seemed to be melting into a puddle of fright beside me.

"H-hello," he managed to squeak out, his eyes wide as he looked down at the shining metal of her gun. Subconsciously, I believe, she touched the handle, her fingers dancing over it briefly. Her eyes darted business-like over his neck but her features softened greatly.

"Yes, we'd like to report a crime," I said, hoping I sounded official or something; honestly I had no idea what to do. Still, I had to appear knowledgeable in front of Frank because if I didn't, I was certain he would find the first opportunity to exit and take it.

"I can see," she muttered, brushing her blonde bangs from her brown eyes, the smile slipping off her face as she kept her gaze focused on Frank's neck. He swallowed hard, lowering his face, raising a hand to rub at his throat. I grimaced slightly, looking back at her. "Follow me," she said, putting another smile on her face, motioning for us as she walked away. I grabbed his hand, taking the opportunity now that everyone here seemed to be occupied with something or other.

"You'll be fine," I murmured into his ear, walking briskly after the woman. He nodded though the insecurity positively shone from his face. "I swear to you." He looked at me, letting go of my hand. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to just pull him into my arms and press my lips against his. Instead, I walked into the room she was holding the door to, seating myself at one of the chairs. He sat beside me at the edge of his chair as she clicked the door shut behind her.

"First things first: My name is Kathleen O'Brien and I will be the one to fill out this report and present it. Second of all: What are your names?" She stood poised at the desk, a pen in her hand already hovering over a sheet of official-looking paper.

"My name's Gerard Way and this is Frank Iero," I said seeing as Frank was still staring at her gun. I nudged him surreptitiously as she began writing before looking up again.

"Who's the one filing the report, you or him?"

"Him."

"And how do you spell his last name?" I nudged him again, forcing him to pay attention; he had to.

"I-e-r-o," he muttered.

"So you speak?" she said with a slight smirk, seating herself finally. I sighed in relief; I couldn't stand her simply standing there bent over the desk.

"Yes," he whispered, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

"Great, now, have you gone to the hospital?" she asked, her voice registering some shock. I groaned inwardly, mentally beating myself up. Why hadn't I thought of taking him to the hospital? Was I retarded or something? Despite my fascination with the thing, I never once thought, "Perhaps a doctor should check this out." Fuck.

"No," he said, his voice shaking slightly from his shyness.

"What?"

"No," he repeated, looking up at her. She had her eyes opened wide, her pen still over the paper.

"You haven't gone to the hospital?" He shook his head quietly, looking back down at his hands. "Are you insane?" He shook his head again, still looking resolutely into his lap.

"Listen, I really suggest you go to the hospital now before we continue this."

"I can't!" he suddenly burst out, looking up at her with wide frightened eyes, moving his hands to grip the armrests of his chair.

"Why not?" She looked surprised as she sat there, her eyes holding concern for this boy she had never seen before, this boy she didn't know.

"I-I'd rather we did this first before I go t-to the hospital." She shook her head, widening her eyes, jotting down something on the paper. I closed my eyes, resisting a groan, resisting the urge to take him in my arms again.

"If you say so," she said. "Well, then. Tell me what the matter is."

"I killed a man in self-defense." And just like that, he shattered everything. Just like that he fell to the point of no return. To be frank, I was frightened for him.