A Case of Unknown Identity

At every sleepover, sometime around three in the morning, there’s always those two people who are still awake. One will say either something really stupid, or something really deep and it’ll take a while for that other person to answer but they always will.

It’s kind of an unspoken rule that you’re all slap-happy around one in the morning and then you start crashing until you’re just a tired awake person. There’s also usually that one who person who falls asleep way before anyone else. That person is the one most likely to wake up with whipped cream on their face.

Frank is the one to say something in the middle of the night, and he doesn’t really put much thought into it, he just sort of talks.

“Hey Mikey?” He says. Brendon’s snoring somewhere near Frank’s foot, and Ray was that one who fell asleep like two hours ago.

“What?” Mikey asks after several minutes of silence that don’t seem all that awkward.

“I kind of really hate your brother.”

“Join the club,” Mikey says back.

“No like really. He’s such a hypocrite. He was mean to me and now he thinks he can just be nice and I’ll forgive him.”

“I’ll push him into the snow again if you want.”

Frank chuckles and continues, “I just kind of want him to realize that I’m not a baby. He gets his friends to stop bullying me, but I see them pick on other kids still. I’m just one person, I don’t want to be the exception.”

“I’ll probably throw him in the snow anyway,” Mikey answers. He’s on the other side of the room, and they’re not talking all that loudly, but he can hear Mikey pretty clearly. Even over Brendon’s snoring.

“I’d rather they picked on me and only me, then all of those other people.”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

“Are you mad at me for hating him? I mean he is your brother.”

Mikey stews on the question for a while. Frank can’t help but think about Gerard. Just because he’s cute doesn’t make up for him being a prick. Just because he’s Watchman doesn’t mean he’s above criticality.

“I think, if you hated him just because you can then I’d be kind of angry. If you didn’t like him because you’re a cynic than I’d be mad, but I sort of get it. I wouldn’t be nearly as accepting as you are.”

“I’m tired of getting angry at everything. Also it’s three in the morning and I don’t have the energy to fume,” Frank answers.

“Does that mean you’re going to complain for the rest of the week?” Mikey moans.

“We’ll see. I’m going to sleep now though,” Frank answers.

“Good for you,” Mikey answers.

Eventually Frank does sleep, and his dreams are kind of weird. In some of them he really wants to make out with Gerard but in others he kind of just wants to throw him off a pier. He does throw Gerard off a pier in one of them. It’s a good thing dream-Gerard can swim.

When Frank wakes up, Brendon is the only other person who’s conscious, and he’s silently trying to hide behind his blanket, playing Flappy Bird.

Due to the fact that Brendon’s on the floor right in front of the couch Frank’s asleep on, he sees this as a golden opportunity to scare the crap out of Brendon by whispering something over his shoulder.

Carefully, and quietly he sneaks up so that he’s right behind Brendon’s ear and then whispers, “you know you really suck at this game.”

“Fuck!” He jumps up, making Frank giggle, “I will cut you, Iero.”

Frank just smiles back, and commends himself on being a marvelously annoying friend.

“So I hear you want to throw Gerard in front of an oncoming train,” Brendon says casually.

“How’d you kno-“

“I may snore, but you talk in your sleep.”

“What else did I say?” Frank asks.

“Something about watching someone or something like that,” he shrugs. Yikes, Frank probably said Watchman. He’s still confused about the whole Watchman thing.

It feels like someone put his emotions into a blender and then threw the blender at him and told him to put the pieces back together. Nothing makes sense. It’s like he wants to hate Gerard, but he’s also in love with Watchman, but Watchman is Gerard so he hates him. He hates him and wants to kiss him, basically. Gerard is just a grey area for Frank right now.

He wouldn’t trust himself next to a pier with Gerard, that’s for sure.

Evidently he stares off into space for several minutes, and when he comes back down to earth it’s because a pillow had been aimed at his head by Mikey.

“Ow,” Frank shouts, “what was that for?”

“Dunno, the pillow just flew out of my hands towards your head. Maybe your head attracts pillows like a magnet. Like a pillow satellite.”

Frank sighs, “That doesn’t make any sense, if anyone has a magnetic head it’s Ray. He’s got all the hair, there’s got to be some sort of static field around him.”

“Hey I’m awake you know!” Ray’s voice says.

“Well I meant every word.”

“What time is it?” Mikey complains, and checks the clock to see that it’s almost noon.

“I’m tired!” Mikey complains again.

“Suck it up, Way,” A new voice says, and they turn to see Gerard’s just walked into the room, “Mom wants to know if you guys want lunch?”

Frank looks at Gerard, unfalteringly with venom. When Gerard sees Frank’s glare he’s caught off guard a little bit. He’s kind of looking at Gerard like he’s plotting his murder.

Mikey grumbles something about having a dream about a sandwich, but Gerard doesn’t hear it because he’s too focused on the death glare.

Frank’s busy hoping his mutant powers are going to sink in and burn Gerard’s foot or something, but unfortunately they don’t. He’ll never be Cyclops, which is a shame because James Marsden is a good looking chap.

“Are you two done mentally killing each other, because I’m starving!” Mikey says.

Gerard fumbles out of the room, feeling like someone stabbed him. What the hell was wrong with Frank? Frank has never looked at him that angrily, even before they started talking.

Every time that day that Frank makes eye contact with Gerard, it’s just daggers. Like he’s waiting to strike. Gerard is the mouse and Frank is the awaiting cobra.

When Frank grabs his stuff later that day, and head off toward home, Gerard feels guiltier than he ever has.

He knows he’s being an idiot, and he knows he should just let Frank be mad at him, but he decides he can’t just wait there, and before Frank gets too far down the street, Gerard carefully walks after him.

“Frank!”

Frank doesn’t turn at his name because he recognizes Gerard’s voice, and doesn’t overly want to talk to him. Gerard is terrified that he’s going to lash out or something, but he needs to talks to Frank somehow. Tell him he’s trying his hardest.

“Frank?” Gerard’s legs are a lot longer than Frank’s though, so he catches up to Frank and starts to walk with him.

“What do you want?” He growls.

“I... I don’t know. I want to know what I can do.”

“Do?” Frank asks, and he still hasn’t looked at Gerard.

“Yes, I mean... jeez. I want to know if there’s anything I can do to make you stop hating me?”

Frank’s boiling, and he doesn’t know why. He’s afraid of being alone with Gerard, even if ‘alone’ is in the middle of a public street where anyone could be watching.

Gerard waits for an answer for a while, and they’re almost to Frank’s house when he finally responds, “there is no resolute thing that’s going to make this any better, Gerard.”

“Well, is there anything I can do to start?”

Frank considers this for a while, “Not until you stop bullying people.”

“I did-“

“Not just me, Gerard,” Frank says, and he looks at Gerard for the first time. His red hair is askew and hanging across his face. He’s also shivering because he didn’t put on a coat before walking outside.

“I’m just one person Gerard, and I deserve leniency no more than any of the other people you pick on.”

“I’m not the one who-“

Frank interrupts him again, “but you don’t stop it! We’ve been over this. You’re just a bystander and you don’t prevent it. That’s almost as bad.”

Frank, is unfortunately, extremely attractive when he’s mad, but Gerard brushes this off as best as he can and nods.

“You’re right,” Gerard answers.

Frank’s a little surprised by the answer but he doesn’t show it, “I know I am.”

“I’m sorry Frank. I’ll keep apologizing until my lips bleed. Because you’re right.”

“Good,” Frank says, and he walks past Gerard and up his driveway, which Gerard hadn’t even noticed they were standing in front of. He hadn’t considered how close Frank actually lived. He’d talked to Pansy when he was less than a few minutes away, and he never realized it.

“I will make this better, Frank. I promise,” he calls after the short boy. He watches until Frank slams the front door behind him, and even after that he dwells in the same spot until he decides to walk way.

As soon as Frank enters his dads house, he shouts so that his dad knows he’s home, and then trudges quickly into his room.

As much as Frank would like to say he didn’t cry, he can’t deny it. As soon as he hits the duvet it floods out.

There’s no other way for his body to react after he’s tried to contain everything for the past few hours, and it feels broken. Watchman is Gerard, and Gerard isn’t perfect. When Watchman was just a profile on the computer, Frank could pretend. He could pretend that he was perfect and that he had never hurt a butterfly or that he was a fucking angel, but he knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that Watchman had flaws. Why did the flaws have to include being a douchebag though?

After a couple minutes he stops crying. It’s not steady or anything, he just stops, and blinks. Tears stop, and he feels almost bored now. There’s a hollowness inside him now because Watchman is essentially out of his life.

Frank groans but finally makes a decision. A tentative decision.

Gerard doesn’t know Pansy is Frank, he assumes. Since Watchman doesn’t know Pansy’s identity, he can talk to Watchman. Not Gerard, of course, not yet. Frank decides, that for now, he’ll treat them as two different people. Gerard is on parole, and Watchman is on conditional terms as well, but not as strict, because Frank just really wants to talk to him again. He wants Watchman in his life. He want that person to be there, and eventually he might be okay if that person is Gerard, but until then it’s going to be Watchman.

It’s like a craving. Frank just really wants to talk to him, and know he’s listening.

“Alright Frank. Just remember that pride is for children,” He says to himself, and he walks over to the computer left on his desk.

“Pride is for children,“ he repeats.

“Pride is a sin,” he says, “Pride is for children. And lions from Disney.”

He sits down in the chair in front of his computer and places his fingers on the keyboard, but he doesn’t do anything for a long time. Finally, he inhales and goes for it.

That_Pansy_Misfit: Hey there.