I Can Transform You

POV: Gerard

I was expecting it to be a lot harder to find Frank than it actually was. He wasn’t answering my phone calls, which didn’t help my anxiety at all, but I went with my gut instinct and ran to the most obvious place he could be, and miraculously, there he was.

I was so relieved to find him still breathing, but that relief was quick to vanish and my heart was quick to implode at the sight of him. He was standing in my bedroom with his eyes squeezed shut and a gun pressed to his temple, clearly saying his final prayers, and I had to grab onto the doorframe to refrain from collapsing in horror.

I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I didn’t want to make any sudden sounds or movement that would make him jump and accidentally pull the trigger. But I couldn’t just waste time standing there and doing nothing, because I would rather put a bullet through my own brain than stand here and watch Frank do that to himself.

My mind was in pieces, just like my heart, and I felt kind of detached from the world right then. I felt so light-headed from the intense shock and sheer terror inside me that I could have easily just passed out right then, but I powered through it, pushing everything to the back of my broken mind and jumping into action.

I had no well-devised plan or any time to think of one, all I could do in that second was lunge forward and wrap one hand around the barrel of the gun, and the other around Frank's wrist. He was holding the gun too tightly for me to pull it out of his grip, but I didn’t want to wrestle it from him anyway; I hoped he would end up giving me it willingly. But for now, the most I could do was move it away from his head and aim it at the ceiling instead.

His eyes snapped open immediately and found mine, and he just stared at me, long and hard. His gaze burned right through me, right through my soul, and I could see the thousands of questions circling in his head, but he seemed too distracted by my sudden appearance to say a word.

There was a consuming darkness in his eyes that I wasn’t used to seeing; the familiar light was long gone. In that moment, his eyes were like a window to his heart, and I could see all too clearly the shattered pieces of it, and the pain it was causing him. He was surely broken, but not beyond repair… I was here now and I was going to fix him, if he would just let me.

“Frankie,” I croaked, trying to contain the overwhelming desperation I felt. “Give me the gun.”

I noticed his jaw clench and his eyebrows twitch at my words, and I just knew he was afraid of losing power of the situation. He was feeling overpowered by me and maybe I should have backed off then, but I couldn’t - I was equally scared of losing power of the situation, because I knew if I did, I would lose him.

He made no attempt to obey my command and give me the gun; I could have sworn his grip actually got tighter, instead of looser. His whole body had definitely stiffened with the interference.

“Please,” I begged, slightly more frenetic. I was losing my cool now.

“Why?” he replied in the smallest, weakest voice I’d ever heard from anyone, let alone him. He was so confused and vulnerable right now, so vulnerable I feared any answer I gave would either be not enough or too much for him.

There was only one clear response forming in my mind – the truth - but I hesitated uneasily before giving it, fearing his reaction. The silence was becoming deafening and his searching eyes were too much for my heart to take; they were begging me for the truth, and I knew I needed to give it.

“Because - I love you, Frank! I - I don’t want to lose you, not like this...”

I couldn’t handle it if he suddenly disappeared from my life, from the world, so rashly like that. It was bad enough when I lost him to Lydia… To lose him entirely would destroy me. He wasn’t just a guy I had feelings for – No, it wasn’t just the fact that I had come to depend on him in ways I never wanted - It was so much more than that. For fuck sake, he was part of my family now; part of my home life, as well as my school life.

And honestly, I couldn’t remember one day in the last six years that I hadn’t had some kind of run-in with him, whether in real life or in my head. He was always there, getting under my skin. But recently, I had been denying how much I needed him here with me... It was only now that I was faced with a life without him around that I had come to grips with the fact he was a huge fucking part of me and, God, I needed him.

Of course Frank couldn’t hear these voices in my head, and he could never believe just how much he meant to me…

“You don’t love me,” he screwed up his face and shook his head adamantly, gaining the strength to shake off my hold on him and back away from me slowly.

I couldn’t really blame him for doubting my sincerity, with all the soul-destroying lies he’d been told by some of the only people he trusted, and with the vendetta I had had against him recently... It was no wonder.

“You hate me! And I don’t blame you - no one could ever love me…” His hand was shaking as he lifted it back to his head, recklessly aiming the gun at himself once again.

If he pulled that trigger, I swear to God, I’d have to pull it on myself so that I could be with him on the other side… And what kind of tragic ending would that be? We are not fucking Romeo and Juliet. There was a place for us here, in this world, and if Frank would just open his goddamn eyes, he would see that.

“…Especially you,” he added in a whisper, like everything that had happened between us in the past was a terrible secret that he hated to bring up. I could see it tearing him apart, from the inside out. “After all I’ve done to you… I deserve to die.”

He closed his eyes and a single tear rolled down his cheek, and his finger twitched slightly against the trigger, giving me fucking heart failure.

“NO!” I cried out, giving up trying to take the careful approach and literally throwing myself at him in a desperate attempt to knock the gun out of his hand.

And then suddenly, we were partaking in that physical wrestle I never wanted to have to resort to. We fought over the gun like it was a fucking game of tug-o-war that didn’t involve a deadly weapon that could go off at any point and kill either one of us.

“Gerard, don't! I – I need to do this!” he stammered desperately, struggling to keep fighting as the tears fell from his eyes like ticking bombs.

I never said I would take this lying down.

“No, you don’t!” I choked, catching his eyes for a second mid-struggle. “You just – I need – let me –”

Something just snapped inside of me when our eyes locked together and I was suddenly overcome with the need to kiss him, to help him see the truth he wasn’t listening to, and so I leaned in without warning, crashing my lips to his.

And with that, everything froze.

The world around us seemed to stop spinning and fade out completely, leaving nothing here except the two of us, losing ourselves in an impulsive kiss. We both stopped struggling immediately and our grips on the gun became kind off slack, as our lips melted together, just for a second. He kissed me back, letting our broken hearts became one whole one, just for a second.

It was nothing more than a peck on the lips, but at the same time, it was everything more. It seemed to be enough to somehow get through to Frank, to make him believe what I was trying to tell him, because when we slowly broke apart, the gun was in my hand.

He was staring deep into my eyes again and I held contact as I reached out and placed my hand on his face and in his hair, protectively covering the side of his head he had just been holding a gun against. I exhaled slowly in relief, overwhelmed by the fact that it was gone now; he was safe and I was going to keep it that way.

His eyes suddenly started tearing up, mirroring the emotion in mine, and he closed them again to escape my endless gaze and hide the fact he was crying. (As if I was going to judge him for it.) He hung his head in shame and my hand slipped slightly against his face. His shoulders drooped in a defeated posture and his whole body trembled with his silent sobs. Swallowing the lump in my own throat, I tried hard not to succumb to the overwhelming sadness. Fuck, I needed to be the strong one here.

I slid my hand down to his shoulder and gently pulled him into my embrace, letting the gun slip through my fingers carelessly and fall to the floor with a soft thud, so I could put my other arm around his hunched body. He buried his face in my chest and cried his broken heart out, and I buried my face in his hair, holding him as close and tight as I possibly could.

We stayed like that for what felt like minutes on end, until my shirt was kind of soaked through with his tears, and then he finally mustered up the strength to speak again.

“I’m s-sorry.”

My heart was already in a knot and those words just pulled tighter at the strings, suffocating me.
I pulled back from the hug to look him in the eye, but he kept his eyes squeezed shut, like he was trying to block out the world and everything in it, including me.

“Frankie,” I began in a small, frail voice, taking hold of his face with both hands and wiping his tears away with my thumbs. This made him open up and let me into his world again; let me lose myself in his never-ending gaze. “I’m the one who should be sorry - and I am, fuck, I am so sorry.”

I felt way too bad about all of this to let him blame himself. It was my fault. I should have been there for him, instead of pushing him further off the edge with my third-grade revenge. I was so heartless and cruel about the whole thing, refusing to put a stop to my plan even after Mikey had told me Frank was having a breakdown.

But I was here now; I was finally seeing the full picture now and all traces of venom inside me had completely disappeared, leaving behind remorse and guilt.

“No… I deserved it,” he insisted weakly, averting his gaze downwards for a second, as if lost in thought, before looking back up with fresh tears leaking from his eyes. And then he suddenly stepped back, escaping my tender hold on his face, and turning around to face the wall, as he asked, “Did people laugh when they watched my video?”

I resisted the urge to grab his hand and spin him back round to face me, because I knew how hard it was for him to face me right now. He wasn’t expecting to have to face me or anyone ever again. He had already said his goodbyes in that video, no doubt. I’m sure it was meant to be the last we ever saw of him… I could never thank the lord enough that it wasn’t.

“I…” Oh, how I wanted to tell him they didn’t laugh, that they didn’t even see it… Any kind of reassuring answer would have done, but it occurred to me in that second that I didn’t know if either of those statements were true. “…don’t know.”

I swallowed anxiously and stepped forward, reaching out a hand to put on his back as a sign of affection, but hesitantly stopping mid-way. I had a feeling he didn’t want to be touched or comforted right now.

“I don’t know if anyone even saw the tape, Frank… I didn’t play it for them, but – well, they might’ve seen it after I left to come and find you,” I admitted, praying to God that Mikey had stepped in and turned off the VCR after I had gone. I wasn’t really confident in the idea though, because I remembered how transfixed he seemed, desperately curious to hear what Frank had to say. I was pretty curious too, even more so now Frank had just asked if people had laughed at it… Jesus, why on earth would they do that? The first ten seconds that I saw weren’t funny in the slightest.

He took my words and considered them for a moment, saying nothing, before he finally half-turned his body around and glanced over his shoulder to stare at me.

“Didn’t you do the assembly?” He looked puzzled, and it only occurred to me then that as far as he knew, I had gone through with my plan and gotten my revenge.

It was kind of a mystery that he wasn’t more angry with me.

“No, I couldn’t go through with it. See, uh… Mikey gave me your tape… and I watched the first ten seconds and knew I had to come and find you,” I confessed, the guilt written all over my face. “I should never have tried to get revenge on you in the first place...”

Mikey was right when he said two wrongs don’t make a right. All that they make is a bigger fucking wrong, like in this case, a breakdown.

“…Can you forgive me?” I added tentatively, needing Frank’s acceptance to be able to forgive myself. God, I never could have forgiven myself if he had succeeded in killing himself…

He sighed heavily and headed over to sit on his bed, like he was thinking deeply about my request for forgiveness.

“It’s not you I’m mad at, Gerard,” he mumbled, putting his head in his hands. I realised then that he was still having some kind of internal battle with himself. He was still consumed with self-loathing and the desire to kill himself. “If you had watched the video, you would have heard me blame myself for it… For everything…”

It saddened me to hear him blaming himself so harshly for everything that had gone wrong in his life. I didn’t need to see the video to know he was referring to what happened to his father, and even what happened with Matty and Lydia. I could read him like a book when his heart was on display like this.

“Oh, Frankie… Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I replied in a pleading voice, taking a seat next to him on his bed.

I meant to put my hand on the bed, but I put it down on top of his without meaning to, and he jerked his head in surprise, turning to stare at our touching hands. I stared too, waiting for him to move away from the contact, but he didn’t, so I took this to mean it was okay to thread my fingers through his.

His eyes lifted to meet mine and I continued with what I was saying, now that I had his undivided attention.

“So you’ve made a few mistakes… Big deal. We all have, you’re only human. You can’t obsess over the past like this and let those screw-ups define you… You’ve got to let it all go,” I told him strongly, stroking his hand with my thumb to counteract the harsh tone I was taking with him. I was wholeheartedly determined to make him see sense.

“But those screw-ups do define me,” he said slowly, furrowing his eyebrows like he was thinking hard about it. “Face it - I’m only going to keep making the same mistakes. I know I’ll end up foolishly trusting or falling in love with people who are only going to fuck me over and break my heart again…”

Okay, I know he’s hurting right now, but Jesus Christ, that’s such a pessimistic view to be taking in life…

Despite sounding so confident in what he was saying, there was a distinct imploring look in his eye when he mentioned being fucked over and having his heart broken, and I knew he was silently questioning whether I would ever do those things to him.

I felt the need to reassure him.

“I wouldn’t ever fuck you over and break your heart,” I whispered, promising him with eyes full of love and sincerity.

He studied my face intently and gazed into my eyes for a moment, and I nearly leaned in to kiss him again, but I couldn’t ignore the deep sadness that was still there in his eyes. Something was definitely still bothering him.

“I wish I could promise you the same thing,” he eventually sighed, making my heart sink fast and hard, “but I can’t. Because that’s who I am, Gerard - I’m selfish and reckless, and God, you already know that I’m a liar and a coward.” He was staring down at our hands again, too ashamed to look me in the eye anymore. He even tried to pull his hand out from under mine, but I just held it tighter. “You’re better off without me, just like the rest of the world.”

His words cut right through me, and I suddenly felt angry with him for sabotaging himself in this way. He was his own worst enemy, standing in the way of himself and constantly beating himself up over everything.

“Really Frank, don’t you think that every single person has their flaws?” I demanded sharply, my tone scolding. “I mean, look at me…” He took my words literally and turned his head in my direction once more. “I can be jealous and needy and just plain fucking bipolar, and I’m as much of a liar as you are – hello, I’m a closet gay who has spent years hiding his real feelings from the world,” I scoffed, shamelessly pointing out just a few of my flaws in the hope that he would realise nobody’s fucking perfect.

He seemed taken aback by my bold declaration, as if he never would have guessed I wasn’t a fucking saint or something.

“Don’t you remember that I tried to kill myself too?” I frowned, and I could literally see the dawning realisation in his eyes. He seemed to have forgotten that little detail he read in my diary about me being suicidal. “Yeah… I know what it’s like to be in your shoes. God, I know what it’s like to put on an act and lie to people every single day... You’re not the only one who’s a liar and a coward. Most people are, in fact. And there’s nothing wrong with faking a smile to cover up the pain inside… We are all entitled to our own private lives,” I ranted vehemently, getting increasingly louder and intense. “Quit beating yourself up for being the person you needed to be in order to survive high school.”

I knew I was being a fucking hypocrite saying this now, after I had been so angry with Frank for lying to everyone about who he really was, but it was literally just dawning on me now that he only did it to stay alive]… I could see now that if he had given up on the act sooner, he would have given up on his entire life sooner.

“I never thought of it like that,” he mumbled, processing my words very carefully. It seemed that we had both learnt something new about him with that speech.

“Well, start thinking like that, please,” I begged him, placing my free hand on his thigh and squeezing lightly, definitely distracting him. He arched an eyebrow and stared down at my hand on his leg, surprised by my forwardness. I realised it probably was a little suggestive and quickly relocated my hand to his face, turning his head to look at me again. “All this self-hatred you have is unnecessary and you need to learn to forgive yourself and blame some of the screw-ups on the people who actually deserve it... Like Matty and Lydia.” I noticed the way his eyes darkened and flashed with anger at the mere mention of them. I was stepping on dangerous territory now. “They’re the ones who fucked up, Frank, not you… Give yourself a break!”

How can he even blame himself for being cheated on?

“But you actually told me they were having an affair, didn’t you?” Oh, that’s how. “Everyone fucking knew, except me. I was a blind fool… I saw all the signs and just ignored them.” He closed his eyes and I could practically hear him silently cursing and mentally kicking himself.

“That doesn’t make it your fault,” I defended him, despite having called him an ignorant-moron-in-love right from the start. Hey, someone needed to be on his side in this argument and he sure as hell wasn’t… “I mean, which is the worse offence there, naivety or infidelity?”

His eyebrows pulled together and he thought about it for a second, before bitterly pointing out: “I am guilty of both of those, you know.”

Ah, of course, something ELSE to beat himself up about… His poor-excuse-of-an-affair with me…

“Oh, for the love of God! Stop torturing yourself over everything,” I cried in frustration, caressing his face affectionately, just wishing he could see himself from my point of view, and love himself like I love him. “You're killing yourself emotionally, and it's killing me to see it."

He looked at me with sad, apologetic eyes and shrugged with heavy shoulders.

“I can’t help it...”

He had such a strong defeatist attitude, I knew it was going to take a lot more than this conversation to make him believe in himself again. But I was up for the challenge... I could be the one that fixed him.

“Well, maybe I can,” I spoke softly, looking at him with bright eyes, “Let me help you.”