The Untouchables

Again, Frank is bullied at school the very next day. And this time, Gerard isn’t there to help him.

They beat him, took his wallet (which was carrying the precious loot of fifteen dollars, and had dumped the contents of his backpack, kicking them around the vacant bathroom.

Oh, and after such a semi-sociopathic yet somewhat motivational internal rant just the other night. What a shame.

Frank tells Gerard, after school, and boy, is he pissed. Frank had told Gerard in the freshman corridor, so there were plenty of lockers for Gerard to angrily slam. He only threw his own shut, pacing about the hall like a tiger confined to a cage.

“It’s okay; really,” Frank insists. “Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not sure what you’re definition of ‘okay’ is, Frank, but this doesn’t fall under my personal understanding of the word,” Gerard fumes, running a hand roughly through his black locks.

“No, I’m fine,” Frank persists. “I’m used to it.”

Frank only realizes how pathetic that sounds after the words come out of his mouth. He expects Gerard to tell him to stand up for himself, to not take bullshit, but he does something very different.

Gerard storms over, and instead of smacking Frank, he wraps him in a giant bear hug, squeezing him. He rubs his back, coaxing,

“Don’t be. Don’t ever be used to being treated like dirt. Don’t settle for what you don’t deserve. They demand the best from you, so you demand their best from them.”

Frank nods, and he clutches onto the back of Gerard’s shirt. Suddenly, Gerard pushes Frank away gently, which is a definite signal that he wants to end the hug. So Frank backs off, even though he’d be not only content but in fact ecstatic

at staying in Gerard’s arms for the remainder of his years.

Gerard spits,

“Do you know what? I’ll kick their asses for you.”

“Gerard, don’t do that,” Frank pleads.

“No, I’m happy to do it for you. And you’re in no position to fight yet. Just because we’re working out doesn’t mean that they’re going to stop and let you prepare yourself. NO, they’re just going to keep pushing, and pushing. I’d hate for you to get hurt, Frankie, you have no idea how badly that’d fuck me up. I have to get these guys to stay the fuck away from you, and I have to do it now.”

“No, it’s really not that important,” Frank insists.

“You have a black eye, Frank,” Gerard points out flatly.

“Do I?” Frank asks, whipping out his phone and using the front camera as a mirror. “Oh, look at that. I do.”

Gerard is so upset by Frank’s minor reaction that he can’t find his words for a moment. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, no,” Frank admits.

“Then get pissed!” Gerard orders. “I want to see you be angry about these assholes that are ruining your childhood, your life!”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Frank responds. “They’re not ruining my life.”

“But they are!” Gerard continues. “Frank, you’re scared to go to school, aren’t you? You can’t feel safe or welcome at the single place it should be guaranteed, and that breaks my fucking heart.”

Tears well in Gerard’s eyes, and Frank begs,

“Gerard, please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Gerard chokes out. “I just have something in my eye. Like you know, a hair, or a brick.”

Frank frowns sadly, and Gerard wipes his eyes, proceeding,

“But don’t worry about me right now, it’s whatever. In fact, Frank, I’m going to find these assholes, right now, and I’m going to fucking make them feel sorry for ever treating you any less than what you deserve.”

“Gerard, really,” Frank begs. “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“What makes you think I’d get hurt?” Gerard demands.

Frank can’t help but smirk at Gerard’s blatant over confidence. “Three boys, Gerard. Three of them. Not to mention, two of them are two years above you.”

“I don’t care. I just want to show them that they can’t get away with treating you like that,” Gerard says.

Frank exhales sharply, then asking quietly, “Well, what if they beat you up? Then that doesn’t prove anything; that just makes you their punching bag, too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Gerard replies.

“Gerard, I’m touched. I really am,” Frank assures. “But just because you’re ready and willing to possibly get seriously hurt for me doesn’t meant that I am. Do you really want to emotionally wreck me more than those ass wipes ever could?”

Gerard sighs, confessing, “No. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. You know that. But what are we supposed to do? Tell me, because I’m at the end of my ropes.”

Frank drops to his knees, taking off his backpack. He begins burrowing through it, finally pulling out a phone. He taps the smart phone, telling,

“This thing is what we’re going to do.”

“A phone? Tell me, Frankie, how in the fuck is that supposed to help?” Gerard demands.

Frank smirks, “It has a voice recorder.”

“So, what you’ve been recording it?”

Frank nods.

“And what exactly do you intend to do with the audio?” Gerard questions.

Frank shrugs. “I was thinking I was going to give it to the principal.”

Gerard scoffs, “Frank, come on. You know that the principal won’t do shit. You’ve been through this enough to know that.”

Frank’s brows knit, and he becomes inexplicably angry as he retorts, “You don’t know that!”

“But I do,” Gerard responds calmly. “It doesn’t matter what proof you have; the school is its own judicial system, and they’ll do whatever they have to do to keep from looking bad, even if it means sweeping bullying under the rug.”

Tears begin to build up in Frank’s eyes, and an indelible lump rises in his throat as he mutters, “I was hoping maybe it’d be different.”

Gerard frowns, melancholy in his eyes. “Frankie, I’m sorry. But this school isn’t any better than the next, and it sucks, and I know that. But that just means that we have to take matters into our own hands.”

“I don’t want to fight them,” Frank whimpers. The tears start to fall in fat clusters down his cheeks. They collect on his lashes and roll off, dropping onto his face slowly. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Listen to me,” Gerard coaxes. “You are. You are so much stronger and better than any of those assholes. You can beat them, especially with my help, and maybe even Ray’s. We can do this, Frank. It’s the only way they’ll leave you alone. Do you want evil to continue, or do you want to teach these jerks a lesson, and not only liberate yourself, but also any future kids they even consider laying a hand on. What do you say?”

“I say good,” Frank whispers. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve, and rubs the water off of his face with the arm. “So, when are we going to do this?”

“There’s a party they’re going to be at next Friday,” Gerard informs. “Until then, we can continue to work out, if you want to.”

Frank nods. “Sounds good.”

“And Frank,” Gerard adds. “Just so you know, I have the motivation to kill those guys. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because they fucking hurt my best friend and they made him cry,” Gerard answers. “And I will defend you to my fucking death, I would die for you. So I am certainly willing to perhaps get my ass kicked around a little in order to protect you. I love you like a brother, Frank, don’t you ever forget that.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Frank admits. “You just put into words what I never could.”

“Then don’t say anything,” Gerard responds. “And let’s go over to Toro’s house and lift some weights.”