Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Gerard's P.O.V.]

Once the shower was done, our limbs trembling beneath our bodies, we made our way to do the errands specified earlier. He looked tired, exhausted even, though I assumed I could attribute it to the events in the shower. Still, I couldn't quite ignore the dark skin beneath his eyes, the way his lids fluttered periodically, his legs faltering at times to make him stumble to the side. Satisfied as I was, I didn't bother myself much with it, thinking he would tell me if there was something wrong. It was probably wistful thinking but I had complete faith in him.

"Where are we going to go first?" he asked quietly, hand searching out mine. I couldn't help but smile at him, tugging on his hand to bring him close, wrapping my arms around him. He smiled wearily at me, hands trailing up my sides beneath my shirt to the bandages he had wrapped himself; he had insisted upon taking care of my injuries.

"First, we're going to pay back Cabel; I don't want that guy pissed at me." He smiled softly, fingers trailing gently over my arm. "Then we're going to a local store to get a carton of cigarettes." He smirked at that, probably excited at the prospect of nicotine. "After that, I'm going to take you around." He cocked an eyebrow, delicately arching it as he tilted his head to the side.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I suggest you tell your grandparents; I'm going to be keeping you out until late, if you don't mind." He smiled, hands gripping my cheeks, pressing our lips together. "We'll stop by then so you can tell them." He nodded eagerly in agreement, wrapping his arms around my torso, swaying his hips as he leaned in closer. I couldn't help but grin like a maniac, excitedly mirroring his movements, hopelessly lost in him.

"Hey! Gee, I thought you were gone!" With barely any warning, I was engulfed in two arms that knocked me away from Frank, sandy hair brushing against my chin. Stunned, I couldn't respond, only managing to awkwardly pat the back before me. The figure grasping my torso pulled away, eyes bright with excitement.

"Why are you so happy to see me, Mikes?" I asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest. His smile faltered slightly for which I immediately felt guilty, extending my arms towards him as an apology. He immediately accepted, excitedly grasping me again.

"You were gone last night. Where'd you go? And I thought Frank was gone..." He had trailed off, giving Frank a perplexed look; he could barely respond, simply shrugging, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot, unsure as to what to do.

"I'm sorry if I made you worry," I apologized with a soft smile, "I just went out for a walk and I stumbled on Frank while visiting Scott. You remember him, right? I mean, I was in the neighborhood and I saw him in his house. Don't worry about it though, Mikes. I'll be gone for the rest of the day, by the way; got shit to do." He looked disappointed suddenly, eyes downcast. I sighed, hugging him softly again. "Don't be like that. I'm sorry Mikey; let's say tomorrow you and I hang out, just the two of us? Okay?" He nodded eagerly, pulling away and smiling at the prospect of the both of us spending time together; it had been a while since we had taken time to have fun as brothers and friends, especially now that Frank was occupying my time. With a little insecure wave at Frank, he walked away, a slight lilt in his step now.

"What's with him?" he asked quietly, stepping close to me, still somewhat awkward. I smiled and pulled him against me, rocking him softly.

"We haven't hung out in a while. We used to always have this movie night where we would pick out the worst and best movies and watch them, laughing together or staring at the screen like zombies. Lately, we haven't really done any of that." He automatically looked apologetic and I shushed him before he could even say anything. "It's not your fault; it's like lately we just have been so caught up in our own separate lives that we hadn't made any time for each other." He still seemed somewhat apologetic for which I shook him, lightly pressing a kiss to his temple, tugging on his hand. He followed without hesitation, eagerly tagging along behind me.

I decided to take the car, grabbing the keys from their respective hook next to the front door, pressing the button that would unlock the doors. It would be much safer and faster to take the car than to walk the streets, especially as a carton of cigarettes was on the shopping list. I opened the passenger door, motioning for him to enter as I walked around, slipping into the driver's seat. Once he was settled, curled into himself with his seat belt securely buckled in over his chest, I pulled out. It was all pretty much boring when we went to visit Cabel, paying him back quickly before he could offer my alcoholic body another drink.

It was only when we turned into a local convenience store, parking just outside that something happened. Frank's entire countenance turned pale and he absolutely refused to get out of the car. Ignoring his protests, I tried to get him to walk inside but he stubbornly refused, smacking my hand away and remaining resolutely in the car. "What is up with you?" I finally asked in frustration and he glared at me. He glared at me.

"I'm not going in there," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why not?" I insisted, pulling on his arms, unbuckling his seat belt for him. He stubbornly buckled himself in again, ignoring my senseless pulling. He shook his head, frowning at the fact that I would not leave him alone. It was a curse, I guess, to be this stubborn. He pushed me away softly, as if he didn't have the courage to really push me.

"Because I don't want to. You can go in yourself," he reasoned, curling up further on the seat.

"Frank, I am not going to have this discussion right now. Stop being a stubborn kid and get out here." He refused again, closing his eyes and pressing his hands tight over his ears to block out the noise childishly. Growling, I pulled his hands away, unbuckling him and pulling him out of the car. He struggled, trying to get back onto the seat even as I closed the door behind him, locking it.

"Gerard," he whined, beating weakly against my chest. "I'm not going to go inside. Just leave me alone."

"You are, so quit your whining." Breathing heavily, he slumped against me, falling completely limp so that it became a task to keep him upright. Grumbling, I began to pull him along, ignoring the way his dead weight sapped my strength. I pushed open the store door, hearing the bells crash over my head. He began struggling suddenly, almost slipping from my hold and leaving the store. Somehow, I managed to pull him back, confused as to his behavior and somewhat frustrated by it as well. He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he realized that I wouldn't let him go. I smiled apologetically at the man that walked towards us. "I'm sorry; I don't know what's gotten into him." Their eyes locked and instantly Frank shrank away, trying to hide.

"Hey, I thought I said I didn't like you, kid." Completely perplexed by this moment, I flicked my gaze between the both of them.

"I'm really sorry. I'll just leave now; I won't be here any longer." He somehow managed to slip from my grasp, sprinting out of the store. Deciding that I couldn't prolong my search for cigarettes for much longer, I walked towards the counter, pulling out my wallet, motioning to the carton of Marlboro cigarettes behind the glass case. Growling and cursing under his breath, the man followed, reluctantly ringing up my purchase, punching the amount in with fury. I handed over the money he demanded, grabbing my carton and walking away rapidly, intent on finding Frank; I couldn't very well leave him alone outside for too long. The search didn't take long; he was cowering against the side of my car, waiting impatiently for me to return.

"I told you I didn't want to go in there," he growled angrily, ripping the bag from my hands, tearing open the plastic to grab a pack. "You owe me one," he grumbled, pushing the carton roughly into my hands again, sticking the pack in his pocket, crossing his arms over his chest.

"How should I know there was something strange between the both of you?" I asked indignantly, unlocking the car. He grumbled under his breath, slipping into the car the instant it was unlocked. I wandered over to the driver's side, throwing the carton into the backseat carelessly, placing the key in the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life beneath the hood.

"My reluctance should have been enough, Gerard," he hissed, taking the pack out of his pocket, taking one of the sticks out to jam it between his lips. "You got a light?" Reluctantly, I pulled out a translucent green lighter I always had in the car, handing it over to him.

"What went on between the two of you?" He glared at me, lighting his cigarette as he did so, chucking the lighter back at me harshly. It ricocheted off my chest, falling onto my lap. "Come on, Frank, just tell me. This shit just confuses the hell out of me. Why can't you tell me?"

"He threatened me with a gun, Gerard; I don't think those are the kinds of things I want you to know. The only things you know about me are the fucking bad times; I don't want you to think I'm some sort of pity case. Next time I refuse to do something, just listen to me and lay off, understand?" I nodded dumbly, somewhat stunned by his outburst. I pulled out slowly from the parking lot, trying to focus on where I was going instead of what he had just told me. The scent of nicotine stained the car as he took long, deep drags, filling his lungs with the carcinogens.

I finally stopped the car in front of Frank's grandparents' house, plucking the cig delicately from his lips, taking a few drags off of it. He glared at me slightly but otherwise didn't protest, getting down from the car to enter the house. He had had to direct me to the street seeing as I couldn't remember its location of the house very well. His rage has slipped away some for which I was eternally grateful; I didn't want him angry with me. Still, he had refused to say another word to me, inhaling the toxins in that accursed cigarette as if it were his last. I inhaled it now, cursing the fact that it was almost entirely gone already: a mere excuse for a stub that I could barely grip as I waited for him to return.

In a few minutes he did, mood noticeably lighter as he grabbed his cig back, taking one last pull before he threw it out the window nonchalantly. I sighed; at least I had the rest of the day to make him happy with me. I wanted to be sure to give him an evening he wouldn't want to forget.