of love and superpowers - part two
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Frank spends a lot of time reading after that. He falls completely into his own world, hand stroking the old paper carefully every time he flips a page. He falls in love with the characters and the worlds, and he can't seem to put the books down even for a second. He finds himself bringing them to the bathroom, to his classes and even reading with his night light on under his covers so not to bother Ray.
He's never been much of a reader, so Ray raises eyebrows at him a couple of times, asking him if it's porn mags hidden between the old covers.
He tries to pretend that he doesn't feel more connected to Gerard when he reads, because that makes him feel creepy again. Sometimes when he walks past him in the hallways or outside and he's sitting by himself with the sun on his face, a book resting in his lap, Frank wishes he had the nerve to sit down next to him. He's so strange and Frank almost feels like he's drawn to him, he wants to know him and talk to him, learn his favourite colours and bands and movies. He wants to see what he draws, too, if he is any good. He probably is, Gerard is the type to be good at drawing.
Most of all, though, he wants to know what Gerard can do, what his powers are and why Professor Cado never asks him to stay behind or places him in practice groups, or why he got to quit danger room sessions.
*
Frank lights up his cigarette with the tip of his finger, looking up at the puffy skies coming from behind the line of trees down by the school gates.
They're sitting outside, both him, Ray and Bob have the rest of the day off to just relax outside while the sun is still shining and the ground is warm under them. Frank smiles against the burn in his lungs, picking lazily at the grass tickling the side of his face.
"Can I have one?" Bob asks, already shaking a cigarette out of Frank's almost empty pack.
"Sure Bob, help yourself." Frank says sarcastically, taking another blissful drag.
The next second, all air leaves his lungs and he's blind and coughing helplessly, flailing. "What the fuck?" he says, muffled against some heavy body part.
"Hi, Frank!" Alicia says happily wiggling on top of him and stretching to grab the pack of Marlboros in Bob's lap. She shifts and Frank can finally breathe. He shouts as her elbow comes dangerously close to his crotch and holds his arm as far from anything flammable as possible.
"Would you be so kind--" he starts, gasping when she grabs his hand with the cigarette between her lips.
"Light, please," she says.
He rolls his eyes. "Can't you just use a lighter?"
"Baby, I don't need a lighter, I've got you." She smiles sweetly. "Hurry, I haven't got much time, meeting Brian in like, five minutes."
"I feel used." he says as she drops his hand and gets up, grinning down at Ray.
"Ray! Brian wants to jam, that means: you, guitar, Saturday night - over at his." She pokes a finger into his curls, and then turns to Frank again. "I'm expecting you to bring the weed."
Later, when she's left, her strange, long skirt and knotty dreads is just a dark shape in the distance, Bob pushes at Frank's foot with the toe of his shoe. "Do you guys fuck?" He asks.
Ray looks up at this, mildly interested and Frank laughs, startled. "I-- What? No! Why would you think that?" Bob shrugs and scratches his chin.
"You totally would, though." Ray comments, throwing a bundle of grass at Frank's head.
"No!" Frank says. "Dude, she's like a sister to me."
"Gay." Ray says, matter-of-factly.
Frank throws the bundle back and ignores the twist in his stomach.
He's almost asleep when he hears Ray shout, "Hey! Mikey, Gerard, over here!" He sits up too fast and blinks away the blurry stickiness at the corners of his vision before turning his neck to see the Way brothers punching each other's shoulders while walking down to meet them. Gerard gives an especially well-placed punch near Mikey's elbow and he trips and almost face plants, making them all crack up.
Gerard catches Frank's stare and offers him a lopsided smile.
"You know what would be fun?" Frank asks the lazy group of boys. He sits with his feet crossed, ripping a small flower into tiny white and green pieces, flicking them at Bob's head with his thumb and forefinger. "We should go swimming in the lake."
"No way." Mikey says into his arms. He's splayed out on his stomach, almost disappearing in the grass. "It's probably freezing."
Ray makes a lady-like noise of agreement. "Yeah."
"Come on, you guys." Frank says, getting up. "Please! Just. Come on. I really want to!" He wraps his arms around Bob's neck in an attempt to get him up on his feet.
It takes him a couple of minutes of begging and whining and jumping on Bob's head, but eventually he's got them standing and moving and thinking it's a fairly good idea. Mikey even gets up while quite impressively flipping him the bird with both hands. Frank counts it as a win.
After a pretty unpleasant, and barefoot , walk through some bushes that was supposed to be a short cut, they're down by the lake, the orange sun still showing right over the tree tops. It's kind of idyllic, the sand is soft under Frank's feet, the trees circle around the water protectively, making him feel like they're all hidden away from school and professors and homework.
Frank gets his head stuck when trying to take off his t-shirt, and when he's finally free he sees Gerard sitting on a rock down by the water, dipping his toes hesitantly into it, his socks curled up in the sand beside him. Mikey is still working on his shoes, but Bob and Ray are already in the water, Bob pushing Ray under the surface, making grumbling, victorious noises. Frank snorts and steps out of his sneakers.
The dark water is shocking against his skin and he gasps when he kicks himself up from the sandy bottom and hits air. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and tilts his head back, gazing up at the thin, white clouds over their heads.
He looks over at Gerard's sad figure on the rock, feet moving slowly in the sand, head ducked. He opens his mouth to yell for him to come join them, when he suddenly feels rough fingers curl around his ankle, warm and firm, and the next second, he's pulled down under water. He flails in slow motion, eyes wide and searching for who the fuck did this when he sees rusty curls sway peacefully somewhere by his knee. He closes his eyes and kicks in the general direction of Ray's head and hits something hard with his big toe. He swears and big bubbles of precious oxygen leave his mouth, making him kick again. When he's free, he's coughing even before hitting surface, water running out of his nose and mouth and he rubs his eyes viciously, gasping like crazy.
"Motherfucker." he curses weakly. "Ray, this is your dying day!"
There's an epic battle for survival between him, Ray, Mikey and Bob. Mikey almost actually dies several times, and Bob even lets him cling to his back.
Frank can't stop sending glances Gerard's way though, and when they're on a time-out to give themselves a chance to breathe, he touches Mikey's pale, bony shoulder. "I, uh. Why is he just sitting there?" he asks, running both his hands through his soaked hair. Frank thinks Mikey looks funny without his glasses, like a completely different person.
"He doesn't really like water." Mikey says, shrugging.
"Is he, like, scared?"
Mikey furrows his brow and kind of shakes his head. "I don't know, he's just like that sometimes."
Frank studies his yellow hands under the water and flexes his fingers while he runs it over in his head. He thinks a solid 'what the hell' and walks up to where Gerard is sitting, sticky underwater plants stroking his legs as he walks.
"Hey. Um. Isn't it boring just sitting here?" he asks awkwardly.
Gerard looks up at him and smiles. There's a round, grey and white pebble in his hand. "No, it's fine."
Frank tries to keep his breathing normal when Gerard looks at him, a glint of green in his eyes. "No dude, come on. It's not that cold."
Gerard actually looks like he's considering it, mouth closed in a thin line. He lets the pebble fall from one hand to the other. "I don't think so."
"Please. For me?" Frank tries. He sees Gerard's eyes move up his body and feels way too exposed, making him want to crouch down over his naked torso. Gerard doesn't meet his eyes, his cheekbones a deep red.
"Okay," he says, and he looks even more surprised than Frank feels.
Frank looks away when Gerard undresses, and moves into the water instead, sighing at how warm it feels now that he's been up and the wind has turned the droplets on his body icy cold. He ducks his head under to clear his thoughts. He sees nothing but the faint outline of his own feet, and some green plants swaying with the weak stream, almost like arms, green, underwater alien arms. Cool.
When he has to come up for air, he sees Gerard, waist deep already, looking kind of helpless.
"You okay?" Frank moves his arms lazily 'til his feet finds the bottom and shakes his head a couple of times. Gerard looks completely frozen, staring blankly down, not moving at all, he doesn't even look like he's breathing. Frank gets closer. "Gerard?"
Gerard looks up, and his smile is tight and forced. "I'm fine, just cold." A few strands of hair are stuck to his lower lip.
Nodding, Frank takes his dry hand in his own. "I got you." And he feels clumsy and stupid, but he can't really care about that because he's wet and Gerard is almost naked and in the water with him, clenching his hand tight.
Apparently there's a dip in the sand under them because Gerard sort of slips and ends up almost under water.
He makes a high pitched noise and grabs for Frank, arms and legs everywhere, water splashing in all directions. After a lot of painful scraping of nails against his shoulders and knees kicked into his stomach, he's gotten them a little closer to land, where they can both stand, but Gerard's arms are still wound tight around him, their chests slippery and hot against each other and Frank seriously can't breathe for a second.
"Jesus," he says. "Are you okay?"
He can feel Gerard's heartbeat quick and heavy against his own and it's so surreal. Gerard disentangles himself from him, clearing his throat, and his eyelashes are sticking together. He nods.
Mikey almost dies again and they all decide it's time to get out of the water and get dry. The sun is a reddish shine between the tree stems and the air is biting cold as they walk through the thorny bushes, hissing and cursing. Gerard is the only one of them who put on his clothes back on even though he's dripping wet, and Frank tries not to get too affected by the sight of him walking with them clinging to his body. It makes him feel creepy and stupid. He looks down at his bright pink, aching feet instead, biting on the loose skin on his lip.
*
Frank is sitting with Alicia on her bed watching 28 Days Later when she turns to look at him and asks, "Frank, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he says and stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
"You seem distracted lately. Or, you know, like something’s bothering you."
He gives the screen a hard look and shrugs. "No, dude, I'm fine."
He sees her sceptic figure out of the corner of his eye and thinks about maybe talking to her about this Gerard thing. He feels something stir in his stomach at the thought, because, no, that would make it so real. He swallows and plays with his zipper for a while.
"Frank..." she says with a sad voice. "I'm here if you need to talk to someone. Is it your Mom?"
Frank shakes his head. "No, it's not...-" he inhales and says, "I think I like someone."
Alicia pauses the movie and scoots closer to him on the mattress. "Okay, spill."
"I can't really, you know, I shouldn't..." he looks up at Alicia and sees her sincere face all patient and soft.
Her expression falls a little. "It's not me, is it?"
Frank rolls his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. No it's not you, I just. Look, if you liked someone who you knew definitely didn't like you back, would you just try to move on?"
She tilts her head to the side and gives him her thinking face. "That really depends, Frankie. How do you know that she doesn't like you back?"
Frank sighs and stares at the frozen image of Cillian Murphy's face up close. "I just know. It doesn't matter, let's just watch the movie."
Alicia digs up a squished joint from her nightstand drawer and hands it to him. They smoke in silence, on their backs watching the mood in the room change with the light from the TV, and before Frank knows it, he's dozing off.
Its pitch black outside when he wakes up, and Alicia is sprawled out against the sheets totally hogging the bed and snoring like an old man. He smiles fondly and pulls the covers over her before turning off the TV. He's still fuzzy at the back of his brain and it takes him a while to get his shoes on properly before he exits Alicia's room and walk down the dark hall to the stairs. Alicia's room in on the fifth floor and his and Ray's in on the second.
He grips the railing pretty hard, the only thing he can see is a faint outline of the dark red wall-to-wall carpet and the thick panel walls.
The golden number on the wall tells him that he's on the third floor when he hears someone talking in low voices. He scratches his head and follows the sound until he sees a thin strip of light from one of the doors furthest to his right. He hisses when he stumbles and his ankle twists painfully. The voices come to a halt immediately and Frank bends down to squeeze his ankle.
There's a hushed mumble, and then the door is shut roughly.
There are no dorm rooms on the third floor, only offices and theory classrooms and the whole floor is often completely deserted during the night, so it's weird that there should be someone there right now, Frank thinks. He decides that he's too tired to care and hops down the last staircase and feels his way to his room. He's asleep even before he hits the mattress.
*
He wakes up to the world going under.
Or at least it feels like it. Everything is shaking, people are screaming and running out in the hallways and things are falling to the ground, books sliding off the shelves, light bulbs crushing inside the lamp shades and all his clothes are lying in a rumpled mess on the floor by his closet.
"The fuck?" he yells, rolling out of bed, steadying himself against the wall with one hand.
Ray seems to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes with Frank from across the room. "What's going on?" he says over the noise, gripping the headboard of his bed, as a particularly loud bang is heard from somewhere under them, making Ray's whole bed slide a couple of inches across the floor.
Then the door slams open and Paige is there, carrying a little girl as far away from her body as possible. Her knives are out. She screams "Get out," her knuckles white against the door frame, and she hands Frank the girl. "Get down to the emergency room, now! Toro, you're coming with me!"
Frank nods and awkwardly shifts the girl in his arms. She's really young, probably one of the juniors, she looks about six or seven. She clings to him all the way to the emergency room, up the long hall on the fourth floor and to the small door behind the heavy, red curtains.
He knows it well, he's been shoved in there a hundred times during live practice with his danger room class. It still it feels scary and unsafe, and he swallows a couple of times before he hastily punches in the five numbers on the code lock. There's a sharp click and the wooden panel moves, allowing him to push the door open.
He holds his breath when he hears a couple of heavy footsteps run by outside the curtain and he shushes the girl nervously, before lifting her in through the door.
When the curtain is brutally ripped aside, he thinks his heart stops for one, whole second. It's Ray.
"Move!" he hisses and yanks the curtain in place. Frank isn't gonna be asked twice, and he climbs in the door, stumbles down the steps until he's safely down in the emergency room. There's probably twenty kids there already, watching him with wide eyes.
"What the fuck is going on?" Ray asks from behind him, and struggles to close the door. Frank watches as the small strip of light thrown across the floor dies out, leaving them in complete darkness.
Frank knows, Ray knows, all the other kids in the emergency room probably know as well.
Feeling his way over to a wall, Frank slides down to sit. The wall is buzzing against his back.
"They should let us fight," he says darkly to Ray as he hears him slump down beside him. "We're the oldest one's here, we can fight!"
"Yeah," says Ray quietly.
"I could fight, I could help them take those motherfuckers out." Frank spits, kicking the heel of his shoe to the floor angrily. There’s a rumbling sound from above, and suddenly the dusty ground shudders under them. Frank hears startled noises from a couple of the kids.
"I can't believe this shit."
*
It's later when the door opens and three or four students tumble in. Frank gets a glimpse of Gerard before the door is shut again.
"Hey, Gerard!" he says into the dark.
He holds out his arm and concentrates on the warm spot in the middle of his palm. There's the cracking sound of fire, and then his hand lights up, the flames licking up to the tips of his fingers.
"I'm over here." Gerard says, the dim, orange glow lighting up his face.
"You okay?" Frank asks, crawling over to where he sits.
Gerard presses a hand to his forehead and closes his eyes. "I lost Mikey," he says. "He was there with me, and when I got to the door, he was just gone, and then people were shoving me and…" he exhales helplessly and looks up at Frank. "I gotta go find him."
"No, Gerard, we don't need you both out there, he's probably fine. One of the professors will bring him in."
"You think so?" And he looks so worried that Frank just wants to reach out and hug him close, tell him it's all gonna be okay.
"Of course," he says. He has to close his hand after that, the level of concentration he has to give the fire it tiring and he can't keep it up for too long, so he takes Gerard's hand instead (that is not butterflies, he's not that much of a girl) and drags him over to where Ray is sitting.
Frank has heard of this happening before. It's something that nobody mentions or really talks about except on the news and in political debates on mutant rights and equality. He's scared, he won't deny that, but he's more pissed than anything. He's fucking furious. He can't believe that there are people out there, close-minded, low human beings, who do this. The Anti-mutants.
The occasional sound of something breaking or exploding several floors over their heads feels like the murmur of a deep bass in Frank's chest. Unreal and far away in his head, even though he knows some of his best friends are up there, out there, in the middle of everything. He curls a hand around his ankle and tries not to think too much about it.
"How long has it been?"
He hears the sound of nails scraping over denim. "Like, an hour?" Ray says, dragging out the last word. He sounds sleepy. "My ass is so fucking numb, shit."
Frank groans in reply, straightening his back a little to relieve his poor behind from the cold, hard floor. He snaps his fingers and his thumb lights up, giving him just enough light for him to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his jeans. He doesn't care anymore, he needs one. He runs his thumb over the tip a couple of times until its glowing red while heavily inhaling the nicotine with an appreciative sound.
He looks to his side to see Gerard's longing stare fixed on the glowing cherry of Frank's smoke. Eyes all dazed, and the corner of his mouth turned down.
"You want one?" Frank asks, offering him the pack.
"Thanks." Gerard says, taking it. "Could I... borrow a finger?" he asks with the cigarette dangling from his lips, smiling faintly.
Frank giggles and snaps his fingers again, feeling a small swell of pride in his chest.
"It's funny that you two are friends, kind of." Gerard says suddenly, and Frank hears him exhale. "Since, you know, ice and fire. You're kind of opposites."
"That's true." Ray laughs.
"But opposites attract." Frank reasons, his eyes following a grey piece of ash as it swirls down and into the dark. "Isn't that what they say?"
"Yeah." Gerard sniffs, and Frank notices that he's still wearing the same scarf. He wonders if he sleeps with it.
Frank wants to see Gerard clearly, not just the pale outline of his smile. He wants to see the smoke curl up over his lip and his eyes shine.
The conversation flows around him for a while, Gerard talks about movies and music in a low, soft voice and Ray offers agreeing noises from Frank's other side, and it's peaceful enough that everyone else can't hear them over the steady sound of tired voices that goes through the room.
There's still that tense edge of worry in Gerard's voice though, everything he says sounds forced and a little pained. He keeps touching his hair nervously, more than he usually does, and after a while, he sighs, and Frank can see his hand moving over the cold stone under them, hears the scrape of it.
"Are you okay?" Frank asks and his voice is a raw, he can feel how tired he is all the way down to his feet. It's like his eyelids are made of something heavy, and they keep closing by themselves.
Gerard breathes a couple of times, and it fans over Frank's cheek. He's so fucking aware of the moist, warm breath, the smell of cigarettes and something sweet and familiar that he becomes dizzy for a second, leaning just a little closer.
"I need to go. I'm leaving." Gerard says stiffly. "I can't wait anymore, I gotta find Mikey."
It's takes some time for Frank to react when he feels Gerard's shoulder brush his as he stands up, a join cracking.
He reaches out into the dark. "Gerard, don't do that." He scrambles to his knees and blinks a couple of times, his head pounding painfully. Gerard's footsteps up the stairs are echoing through the whole room and Frank has to really concentrate on not passing out from the head rush, blinking furiously against the stars. He opens his hand against the ceiling and the weak flare of flames show Gerard as he pushes the metal lock to the side, click click, and opens the door.
"Hey, Frank what the fuck?" Ray says, grabbing Frank's ankle. "Are you really this stupid?"
Frank yanks his leg free and runs up the stairs, catching the door before it closes and says over his shoulder, "I can't let him go out there alone."
Gerard is surprisingly fast, and it takes Frank some time to catch up with him.
Frank grabs his arm and forces him to a halt, whispering, "Gerard, Gerard, slow down." They lock eyes for a while, and Gerard's expression is cold, but panicked, and for the first time since Frank was woken that night, it's completely still in the school.
"Go back." Gerard tests Frank's grip a little. "And let me go!"
"We need to be more careful, or else we're gonna get ourselves killed." Frank says hushed, dropping his hand instinctively.
Gerard searches Frank's face, his nose scrunching up. "You shouldn't have followed me." he just says, but when he starts walking again, he's slowed down.
Frank stays right behind him, and they both stop dead every time a noise is heard, hands braced against the panel beside them, eyes meeting and the air held hard in their lungs. Frank can feel his heartbeat in his throat and ears, and it doesn't help that Gerard seems to consciously be leading them to where the fighting is going on.
But the school is still surprisingly silent except the occasional gunshot and sound of footsteps and they don't meet anyone for a long time. Or ten minutes, it at least feels like a long time to Frank. He studies Gerard's back, the loose strand of hair sticking to his shirt and the curve of his spine.
He doesn't know why, but for some reason he reaches out and places a hand on Gerard's shoulder. "Do you even know where we're going?" he asks in a low voice, but then the floor creaks from somewhere close, and Frank's senses sharpen. He hears voices and it feels like icy cold water is running down his back.
He grabs Gerard's hand and drags him over to the closest door, turns the knob with his teeth clamped down on his lower lip so hard he thinks he'll break the skin. But the door gives in, soundlessly, and they slip in, Gerard's clammy palm still against his.
Someone walks by a couple of minutes later, whistling cheerily, and the footsteps are heavy and slow, not like the footsteps of a student. Frank pictures big and dirty boots as the light from under the door is broken for a second.
They stay there until they're sure whoever had been outside is out of hearing, and then they both allow themselves to breathe again. Gerard carefully withdraws his hand, flexing his fingers a couple of times.
"Sorry." Frank says.
They're hiding in the library, not the student's one, but the teacher's library, and it's small and dimly lit. There's a couple of old-looking chairs placed between the dark bookshelves.
"You think it's safe to go out?" Gerard has a cautious hand on the door frame, and Frank just nods.
They stay close to the wall, Frank's eyes always searching for a place to hide, somewhere close. A door, a curtain, anything that will keep them relatively hidden if they run into one of the intruders.
They have to hide behind a statue of some famous mutant rights activist a floor up, when someone talks in loud voices close to them. Someone laughs. Frank's hands feel rough against the cool surface of the marble statue, and he lets himself lean against it as he peeks out from under its outstretched arm.
Nothing more happens, the voices are still there, not fading away and not coming closer. Deep, men's voices, and it takes Frank a couple of minutes to understand that their tone is mocking. One seems to be doing most of the talking, Frank can't make out the words, and then there's laughter. Slippery, rumbling laughter, like the sound of a bully throwing some cruel joke at his victim with his friends snickering in agreement.
Gerard seems to do his best to make out the words as well, his forehead against the statue's blank shoulder and his eyes focused on one spot.
"We should go back." Frank whispers, but Gerard only raises his hand.
Frank sinks down to lean back on his heels, rubbing his wrists. It's not like they're going to find Mikey, let alone get him back to safety while the school is full of armed humans who wants nothing but to kill them. Frank is actually surprised that they got this far without something happening. He sighs, putting his head in his hands. Maybe it would be for the best if they just stayed there until it was all over.
He's shaken from his thoughts when a loud shriek breaks the air.
Before Frank can do anything, even fully process the fact that the young voice is familiar, Gerard is gone.
Frank curses before pushing himself up and running after him, out from behind the statue and across the carpeted floor. He bites the inside of his lip at the thump, thump, thump noises he's making, but it can't be helped. He pulls in a deep rush of air before sliding around the corner, nearly losing his balance. He's almost out of sight, and he stays completely still.
He counts them, one, two, three, four, five - six humans, one holding Mikey up against the wall with a hand securely curled around his throat. Something disgusting unfolds in his stomach at the sight of their grey, military-like uniforms accessorized with belts of knives that are almost as scary as the rifles hanging from their shoulders.
"Hey."
Their slick expressions freeze when Gerard throws himself at the one holding Mikey, slamming his body against his.
"Let him go!"
Mikey makes a struggling noise and kicks his legs. "Gerard --" he gurgles helplessly as the hand around his neck tightness.
They all seem frozen for a minute, staring at Gerard who is desperately trying to pry away the hand that is holding Mikey. There's a chorus of grunts and offended noises, and the closest one snaps his fingers. "Rick, get him on the ground."
A tall, muscled guy with blond hair sticking out from under his helmet grabs Gerard by his hair and twists one of his arms back, ignoring his scream in pain, and pushes him to the floor, one knee placed over Gerard's lower back.
"They're so stupid," he mutters as Gerard goes limp under him. "Thinking they could fight us."
Gerard makes a low sound of pain, and Frank tries to meet his eyes. His cheek is squeezed against the carpet, eyes glazed over and his lower lip is pulled down against his chin showing off two rows of tightly ground teeth. He moves his head, which results in the guy, Rick, putting on more pressure. The one standing closest to Gerard places his boot over his free arm, right below the elbow, and pushes down, grinning.
Gerard makes the sound again, saying "no, no, get away please," effortlessly, and his eyes close hard.
A noise fills the air, pained and high-pitched and it sounds like someone screaming under water or something muffled by a pillow. It fills the entire room, and a painting hanging on the wall by Mikey's head falls to the floor, the frame cracking into two pieces. Frank sees Gerard's face contoured in agony when the surreal wail stops, and he gasps for his breath.
Then, there's a slow, wet sound of something tearing.
Rick yells loudly and stumbles back with a panicked noise, dragging himself away from Gerard like he was burned. He rips one of his gloves off and holds his hand up.
Frank's eyes go wide at the sight of the hand. Three of the fingers are gone, leaving only dark, bloody stumps on his hand.
"What the fuck?" Rick bends over his hand, shaking. "What the fuck?"
Gerard sobs helplessly and curls into a ball on the floor, hands in his hair, rocking back and forth.
When someone yells "Kill him!" and it ching's in knives, there's a spark of realization in Frank's brain and he pushes off the wall and throws himself into the fight.
Frank thinks a lot of things as he slams his lit fist into one of the nearest guys' face. From the moment his knuckles mash against his blue eye and the bridge of his nose until someone yells "there's more of them", he's completely content with just fighting these guys off, no problem.
He gets hit somewhere above his left eyebrow and white stars appear all over his vision, he blinks but there's another hit, and he thinks that maybe these guys won't wait for him to compose himself.
One of them grabs his arm so hard Frank thinks it'll snap in two and he sinks to his knees under the pain. The guy has a wide jaw and black little eyes sticking out on each side of his pointy nose and he looks like the classical hero of some cartoon, complete with a dip in his chin and everything.
Looking to his side, he can see that Gerard is lifted to a somewhat standing position. One of them is holding him up by his hair, his head yanked back and the sliver of a long knife is pushed against his throat. Mikey looks like he's turning blue, feet still scrambling against the wall effortlessly and Frank never wondered how he was going to die, it always seemed so far into the future.
The one holding his arm lets him go and pushes him to the floor, and it's an immediate relief. He doesn't look away from Gerard's glazed eyes and shallow breaths until the one with the jaw and the black eyes holds his wrist down and slowly, slowly rolls his boot over his fingers, putting all his weight on the hand.
He doesn't think he screams, but his ears are ringing too loud and the white, clear pain is stopping him from breathing. He doesn't know if it's him or if he's blacking out, but the next thing he sees is a woman, oddly familiar, suddenly there, spinning around and hugging close the Anti-Mutant who is holding Mikey.
Everything sounds like it's far away and Frank remembers the time he fell off a chair and hit his head against the linoleum, it felt like this, thick and unreal, but when he hears the noise of tearing skin he sobers up a little.
He recognizes Paige the second she angles her head to the side. She draws back from the embrace, the row of knives sticking out of her torso are dripping with blood and the man lets go of Mikey's neck and drops to his knees, an orange line of blood and spit is siding down from the corner of his mouth. He takes a hand up to feel his stomach before he sinks completely down on the floor.
Frank has to close his eyes and he keeps waiting for the next punch to hit, for a knife to slide into his back or for a bullet to bore itself into the back of his head, but nothing happens. He listens to the hollow noises of bodies falling to the floor and hears the click of a gun somewhere over his head. His fingers are numb, his whole body is numb and he doesn't care anymore, he just wants to sleep.
Part Three
Frank spends a lot of time reading after that. He falls completely into his own world, hand stroking the old paper carefully every time he flips a page. He falls in love with the characters and the worlds, and he can't seem to put the books down even for a second. He finds himself bringing them to the bathroom, to his classes and even reading with his night light on under his covers so not to bother Ray.
He's never been much of a reader, so Ray raises eyebrows at him a couple of times, asking him if it's porn mags hidden between the old covers.
He tries to pretend that he doesn't feel more connected to Gerard when he reads, because that makes him feel creepy again. Sometimes when he walks past him in the hallways or outside and he's sitting by himself with the sun on his face, a book resting in his lap, Frank wishes he had the nerve to sit down next to him. He's so strange and Frank almost feels like he's drawn to him, he wants to know him and talk to him, learn his favourite colours and bands and movies. He wants to see what he draws, too, if he is any good. He probably is, Gerard is the type to be good at drawing.
Most of all, though, he wants to know what Gerard can do, what his powers are and why Professor Cado never asks him to stay behind or places him in practice groups, or why he got to quit danger room sessions.
*
Frank lights up his cigarette with the tip of his finger, looking up at the puffy skies coming from behind the line of trees down by the school gates.
They're sitting outside, both him, Ray and Bob have the rest of the day off to just relax outside while the sun is still shining and the ground is warm under them. Frank smiles against the burn in his lungs, picking lazily at the grass tickling the side of his face.
"Can I have one?" Bob asks, already shaking a cigarette out of Frank's almost empty pack.
"Sure Bob, help yourself." Frank says sarcastically, taking another blissful drag.
The next second, all air leaves his lungs and he's blind and coughing helplessly, flailing. "What the fuck?" he says, muffled against some heavy body part.
"Hi, Frank!" Alicia says happily wiggling on top of him and stretching to grab the pack of Marlboros in Bob's lap. She shifts and Frank can finally breathe. He shouts as her elbow comes dangerously close to his crotch and holds his arm as far from anything flammable as possible.
"Would you be so kind--" he starts, gasping when she grabs his hand with the cigarette between her lips.
"Light, please," she says.
He rolls his eyes. "Can't you just use a lighter?"
"Baby, I don't need a lighter, I've got you." She smiles sweetly. "Hurry, I haven't got much time, meeting Brian in like, five minutes."
"I feel used." he says as she drops his hand and gets up, grinning down at Ray.
"Ray! Brian wants to jam, that means: you, guitar, Saturday night - over at his." She pokes a finger into his curls, and then turns to Frank again. "I'm expecting you to bring the weed."
Later, when she's left, her strange, long skirt and knotty dreads is just a dark shape in the distance, Bob pushes at Frank's foot with the toe of his shoe. "Do you guys fuck?" He asks.
Ray looks up at this, mildly interested and Frank laughs, startled. "I-- What? No! Why would you think that?" Bob shrugs and scratches his chin.
"You totally would, though." Ray comments, throwing a bundle of grass at Frank's head.
"No!" Frank says. "Dude, she's like a sister to me."
"Gay." Ray says, matter-of-factly.
Frank throws the bundle back and ignores the twist in his stomach.
He's almost asleep when he hears Ray shout, "Hey! Mikey, Gerard, over here!" He sits up too fast and blinks away the blurry stickiness at the corners of his vision before turning his neck to see the Way brothers punching each other's shoulders while walking down to meet them. Gerard gives an especially well-placed punch near Mikey's elbow and he trips and almost face plants, making them all crack up.
Gerard catches Frank's stare and offers him a lopsided smile.
"You know what would be fun?" Frank asks the lazy group of boys. He sits with his feet crossed, ripping a small flower into tiny white and green pieces, flicking them at Bob's head with his thumb and forefinger. "We should go swimming in the lake."
"No way." Mikey says into his arms. He's splayed out on his stomach, almost disappearing in the grass. "It's probably freezing."
Ray makes a lady-like noise of agreement. "Yeah."
"Come on, you guys." Frank says, getting up. "Please! Just. Come on. I really want to!" He wraps his arms around Bob's neck in an attempt to get him up on his feet.
It takes him a couple of minutes of begging and whining and jumping on Bob's head, but eventually he's got them standing and moving and thinking it's a fairly good idea. Mikey even gets up while quite impressively flipping him the bird with both hands. Frank counts it as a win.
After a pretty unpleasant, and barefoot , walk through some bushes that was supposed to be a short cut, they're down by the lake, the orange sun still showing right over the tree tops. It's kind of idyllic, the sand is soft under Frank's feet, the trees circle around the water protectively, making him feel like they're all hidden away from school and professors and homework.
Frank gets his head stuck when trying to take off his t-shirt, and when he's finally free he sees Gerard sitting on a rock down by the water, dipping his toes hesitantly into it, his socks curled up in the sand beside him. Mikey is still working on his shoes, but Bob and Ray are already in the water, Bob pushing Ray under the surface, making grumbling, victorious noises. Frank snorts and steps out of his sneakers.
The dark water is shocking against his skin and he gasps when he kicks himself up from the sandy bottom and hits air. He pushes his hair out of his eyes and tilts his head back, gazing up at the thin, white clouds over their heads.
He looks over at Gerard's sad figure on the rock, feet moving slowly in the sand, head ducked. He opens his mouth to yell for him to come join them, when he suddenly feels rough fingers curl around his ankle, warm and firm, and the next second, he's pulled down under water. He flails in slow motion, eyes wide and searching for who the fuck did this when he sees rusty curls sway peacefully somewhere by his knee. He closes his eyes and kicks in the general direction of Ray's head and hits something hard with his big toe. He swears and big bubbles of precious oxygen leave his mouth, making him kick again. When he's free, he's coughing even before hitting surface, water running out of his nose and mouth and he rubs his eyes viciously, gasping like crazy.
"Motherfucker." he curses weakly. "Ray, this is your dying day!"
There's an epic battle for survival between him, Ray, Mikey and Bob. Mikey almost actually dies several times, and Bob even lets him cling to his back.
Frank can't stop sending glances Gerard's way though, and when they're on a time-out to give themselves a chance to breathe, he touches Mikey's pale, bony shoulder. "I, uh. Why is he just sitting there?" he asks, running both his hands through his soaked hair. Frank thinks Mikey looks funny without his glasses, like a completely different person.
"He doesn't really like water." Mikey says, shrugging.
"Is he, like, scared?"
Mikey furrows his brow and kind of shakes his head. "I don't know, he's just like that sometimes."
Frank studies his yellow hands under the water and flexes his fingers while he runs it over in his head. He thinks a solid 'what the hell' and walks up to where Gerard is sitting, sticky underwater plants stroking his legs as he walks.
"Hey. Um. Isn't it boring just sitting here?" he asks awkwardly.
Gerard looks up at him and smiles. There's a round, grey and white pebble in his hand. "No, it's fine."
Frank tries to keep his breathing normal when Gerard looks at him, a glint of green in his eyes. "No dude, come on. It's not that cold."
Gerard actually looks like he's considering it, mouth closed in a thin line. He lets the pebble fall from one hand to the other. "I don't think so."
"Please. For me?" Frank tries. He sees Gerard's eyes move up his body and feels way too exposed, making him want to crouch down over his naked torso. Gerard doesn't meet his eyes, his cheekbones a deep red.
"Okay," he says, and he looks even more surprised than Frank feels.
Frank looks away when Gerard undresses, and moves into the water instead, sighing at how warm it feels now that he's been up and the wind has turned the droplets on his body icy cold. He ducks his head under to clear his thoughts. He sees nothing but the faint outline of his own feet, and some green plants swaying with the weak stream, almost like arms, green, underwater alien arms. Cool.
When he has to come up for air, he sees Gerard, waist deep already, looking kind of helpless.
"You okay?" Frank moves his arms lazily 'til his feet finds the bottom and shakes his head a couple of times. Gerard looks completely frozen, staring blankly down, not moving at all, he doesn't even look like he's breathing. Frank gets closer. "Gerard?"
Gerard looks up, and his smile is tight and forced. "I'm fine, just cold." A few strands of hair are stuck to his lower lip.
Nodding, Frank takes his dry hand in his own. "I got you." And he feels clumsy and stupid, but he can't really care about that because he's wet and Gerard is almost naked and in the water with him, clenching his hand tight.
Apparently there's a dip in the sand under them because Gerard sort of slips and ends up almost under water.
He makes a high pitched noise and grabs for Frank, arms and legs everywhere, water splashing in all directions. After a lot of painful scraping of nails against his shoulders and knees kicked into his stomach, he's gotten them a little closer to land, where they can both stand, but Gerard's arms are still wound tight around him, their chests slippery and hot against each other and Frank seriously can't breathe for a second.
"Jesus," he says. "Are you okay?"
He can feel Gerard's heartbeat quick and heavy against his own and it's so surreal. Gerard disentangles himself from him, clearing his throat, and his eyelashes are sticking together. He nods.
Mikey almost dies again and they all decide it's time to get out of the water and get dry. The sun is a reddish shine between the tree stems and the air is biting cold as they walk through the thorny bushes, hissing and cursing. Gerard is the only one of them who put on his clothes back on even though he's dripping wet, and Frank tries not to get too affected by the sight of him walking with them clinging to his body. It makes him feel creepy and stupid. He looks down at his bright pink, aching feet instead, biting on the loose skin on his lip.
*
Frank is sitting with Alicia on her bed watching 28 Days Later when she turns to look at him and asks, "Frank, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he says and stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
"You seem distracted lately. Or, you know, like something’s bothering you."
He gives the screen a hard look and shrugs. "No, dude, I'm fine."
He sees her sceptic figure out of the corner of his eye and thinks about maybe talking to her about this Gerard thing. He feels something stir in his stomach at the thought, because, no, that would make it so real. He swallows and plays with his zipper for a while.
"Frank..." she says with a sad voice. "I'm here if you need to talk to someone. Is it your Mom?"
Frank shakes his head. "No, it's not...-" he inhales and says, "I think I like someone."
Alicia pauses the movie and scoots closer to him on the mattress. "Okay, spill."
"I can't really, you know, I shouldn't..." he looks up at Alicia and sees her sincere face all patient and soft.
Her expression falls a little. "It's not me, is it?"
Frank rolls his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. No it's not you, I just. Look, if you liked someone who you knew definitely didn't like you back, would you just try to move on?"
She tilts her head to the side and gives him her thinking face. "That really depends, Frankie. How do you know that she doesn't like you back?"
Frank sighs and stares at the frozen image of Cillian Murphy's face up close. "I just know. It doesn't matter, let's just watch the movie."
Alicia digs up a squished joint from her nightstand drawer and hands it to him. They smoke in silence, on their backs watching the mood in the room change with the light from the TV, and before Frank knows it, he's dozing off.
Its pitch black outside when he wakes up, and Alicia is sprawled out against the sheets totally hogging the bed and snoring like an old man. He smiles fondly and pulls the covers over her before turning off the TV. He's still fuzzy at the back of his brain and it takes him a while to get his shoes on properly before he exits Alicia's room and walk down the dark hall to the stairs. Alicia's room in on the fifth floor and his and Ray's in on the second.
He grips the railing pretty hard, the only thing he can see is a faint outline of the dark red wall-to-wall carpet and the thick panel walls.
The golden number on the wall tells him that he's on the third floor when he hears someone talking in low voices. He scratches his head and follows the sound until he sees a thin strip of light from one of the doors furthest to his right. He hisses when he stumbles and his ankle twists painfully. The voices come to a halt immediately and Frank bends down to squeeze his ankle.
There's a hushed mumble, and then the door is shut roughly.
There are no dorm rooms on the third floor, only offices and theory classrooms and the whole floor is often completely deserted during the night, so it's weird that there should be someone there right now, Frank thinks. He decides that he's too tired to care and hops down the last staircase and feels his way to his room. He's asleep even before he hits the mattress.
*
He wakes up to the world going under.
Or at least it feels like it. Everything is shaking, people are screaming and running out in the hallways and things are falling to the ground, books sliding off the shelves, light bulbs crushing inside the lamp shades and all his clothes are lying in a rumpled mess on the floor by his closet.
"The fuck?" he yells, rolling out of bed, steadying himself against the wall with one hand.
Ray seems to be thinking the same thing, locking eyes with Frank from across the room. "What's going on?" he says over the noise, gripping the headboard of his bed, as a particularly loud bang is heard from somewhere under them, making Ray's whole bed slide a couple of inches across the floor.
Then the door slams open and Paige is there, carrying a little girl as far away from her body as possible. Her knives are out. She screams "Get out," her knuckles white against the door frame, and she hands Frank the girl. "Get down to the emergency room, now! Toro, you're coming with me!"
Frank nods and awkwardly shifts the girl in his arms. She's really young, probably one of the juniors, she looks about six or seven. She clings to him all the way to the emergency room, up the long hall on the fourth floor and to the small door behind the heavy, red curtains.
He knows it well, he's been shoved in there a hundred times during live practice with his danger room class. It still it feels scary and unsafe, and he swallows a couple of times before he hastily punches in the five numbers on the code lock. There's a sharp click and the wooden panel moves, allowing him to push the door open.
He holds his breath when he hears a couple of heavy footsteps run by outside the curtain and he shushes the girl nervously, before lifting her in through the door.
When the curtain is brutally ripped aside, he thinks his heart stops for one, whole second. It's Ray.
"Move!" he hisses and yanks the curtain in place. Frank isn't gonna be asked twice, and he climbs in the door, stumbles down the steps until he's safely down in the emergency room. There's probably twenty kids there already, watching him with wide eyes.
"What the fuck is going on?" Ray asks from behind him, and struggles to close the door. Frank watches as the small strip of light thrown across the floor dies out, leaving them in complete darkness.
Frank knows, Ray knows, all the other kids in the emergency room probably know as well.
Feeling his way over to a wall, Frank slides down to sit. The wall is buzzing against his back.
"They should let us fight," he says darkly to Ray as he hears him slump down beside him. "We're the oldest one's here, we can fight!"
"Yeah," says Ray quietly.
"I could fight, I could help them take those motherfuckers out." Frank spits, kicking the heel of his shoe to the floor angrily. There’s a rumbling sound from above, and suddenly the dusty ground shudders under them. Frank hears startled noises from a couple of the kids.
"I can't believe this shit."
*
It's later when the door opens and three or four students tumble in. Frank gets a glimpse of Gerard before the door is shut again.
"Hey, Gerard!" he says into the dark.
He holds out his arm and concentrates on the warm spot in the middle of his palm. There's the cracking sound of fire, and then his hand lights up, the flames licking up to the tips of his fingers.
"I'm over here." Gerard says, the dim, orange glow lighting up his face.
"You okay?" Frank asks, crawling over to where he sits.
Gerard presses a hand to his forehead and closes his eyes. "I lost Mikey," he says. "He was there with me, and when I got to the door, he was just gone, and then people were shoving me and…" he exhales helplessly and looks up at Frank. "I gotta go find him."
"No, Gerard, we don't need you both out there, he's probably fine. One of the professors will bring him in."
"You think so?" And he looks so worried that Frank just wants to reach out and hug him close, tell him it's all gonna be okay.
"Of course," he says. He has to close his hand after that, the level of concentration he has to give the fire it tiring and he can't keep it up for too long, so he takes Gerard's hand instead (that is not butterflies, he's not that much of a girl) and drags him over to where Ray is sitting.
Frank has heard of this happening before. It's something that nobody mentions or really talks about except on the news and in political debates on mutant rights and equality. He's scared, he won't deny that, but he's more pissed than anything. He's fucking furious. He can't believe that there are people out there, close-minded, low human beings, who do this. The Anti-mutants.
The occasional sound of something breaking or exploding several floors over their heads feels like the murmur of a deep bass in Frank's chest. Unreal and far away in his head, even though he knows some of his best friends are up there, out there, in the middle of everything. He curls a hand around his ankle and tries not to think too much about it.
"How long has it been?"
He hears the sound of nails scraping over denim. "Like, an hour?" Ray says, dragging out the last word. He sounds sleepy. "My ass is so fucking numb, shit."
Frank groans in reply, straightening his back a little to relieve his poor behind from the cold, hard floor. He snaps his fingers and his thumb lights up, giving him just enough light for him to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his jeans. He doesn't care anymore, he needs one. He runs his thumb over the tip a couple of times until its glowing red while heavily inhaling the nicotine with an appreciative sound.
He looks to his side to see Gerard's longing stare fixed on the glowing cherry of Frank's smoke. Eyes all dazed, and the corner of his mouth turned down.
"You want one?" Frank asks, offering him the pack.
"Thanks." Gerard says, taking it. "Could I... borrow a finger?" he asks with the cigarette dangling from his lips, smiling faintly.
Frank giggles and snaps his fingers again, feeling a small swell of pride in his chest.
"It's funny that you two are friends, kind of." Gerard says suddenly, and Frank hears him exhale. "Since, you know, ice and fire. You're kind of opposites."
"That's true." Ray laughs.
"But opposites attract." Frank reasons, his eyes following a grey piece of ash as it swirls down and into the dark. "Isn't that what they say?"
"Yeah." Gerard sniffs, and Frank notices that he's still wearing the same scarf. He wonders if he sleeps with it.
Frank wants to see Gerard clearly, not just the pale outline of his smile. He wants to see the smoke curl up over his lip and his eyes shine.
The conversation flows around him for a while, Gerard talks about movies and music in a low, soft voice and Ray offers agreeing noises from Frank's other side, and it's peaceful enough that everyone else can't hear them over the steady sound of tired voices that goes through the room.
There's still that tense edge of worry in Gerard's voice though, everything he says sounds forced and a little pained. He keeps touching his hair nervously, more than he usually does, and after a while, he sighs, and Frank can see his hand moving over the cold stone under them, hears the scrape of it.
"Are you okay?" Frank asks and his voice is a raw, he can feel how tired he is all the way down to his feet. It's like his eyelids are made of something heavy, and they keep closing by themselves.
Gerard breathes a couple of times, and it fans over Frank's cheek. He's so fucking aware of the moist, warm breath, the smell of cigarettes and something sweet and familiar that he becomes dizzy for a second, leaning just a little closer.
"I need to go. I'm leaving." Gerard says stiffly. "I can't wait anymore, I gotta find Mikey."
It's takes some time for Frank to react when he feels Gerard's shoulder brush his as he stands up, a join cracking.
He reaches out into the dark. "Gerard, don't do that." He scrambles to his knees and blinks a couple of times, his head pounding painfully. Gerard's footsteps up the stairs are echoing through the whole room and Frank has to really concentrate on not passing out from the head rush, blinking furiously against the stars. He opens his hand against the ceiling and the weak flare of flames show Gerard as he pushes the metal lock to the side, click click, and opens the door.
"Hey, Frank what the fuck?" Ray says, grabbing Frank's ankle. "Are you really this stupid?"
Frank yanks his leg free and runs up the stairs, catching the door before it closes and says over his shoulder, "I can't let him go out there alone."
Gerard is surprisingly fast, and it takes Frank some time to catch up with him.
Frank grabs his arm and forces him to a halt, whispering, "Gerard, Gerard, slow down." They lock eyes for a while, and Gerard's expression is cold, but panicked, and for the first time since Frank was woken that night, it's completely still in the school.
"Go back." Gerard tests Frank's grip a little. "And let me go!"
"We need to be more careful, or else we're gonna get ourselves killed." Frank says hushed, dropping his hand instinctively.
Gerard searches Frank's face, his nose scrunching up. "You shouldn't have followed me." he just says, but when he starts walking again, he's slowed down.
Frank stays right behind him, and they both stop dead every time a noise is heard, hands braced against the panel beside them, eyes meeting and the air held hard in their lungs. Frank can feel his heartbeat in his throat and ears, and it doesn't help that Gerard seems to consciously be leading them to where the fighting is going on.
But the school is still surprisingly silent except the occasional gunshot and sound of footsteps and they don't meet anyone for a long time. Or ten minutes, it at least feels like a long time to Frank. He studies Gerard's back, the loose strand of hair sticking to his shirt and the curve of his spine.
He doesn't know why, but for some reason he reaches out and places a hand on Gerard's shoulder. "Do you even know where we're going?" he asks in a low voice, but then the floor creaks from somewhere close, and Frank's senses sharpen. He hears voices and it feels like icy cold water is running down his back.
He grabs Gerard's hand and drags him over to the closest door, turns the knob with his teeth clamped down on his lower lip so hard he thinks he'll break the skin. But the door gives in, soundlessly, and they slip in, Gerard's clammy palm still against his.
Someone walks by a couple of minutes later, whistling cheerily, and the footsteps are heavy and slow, not like the footsteps of a student. Frank pictures big and dirty boots as the light from under the door is broken for a second.
They stay there until they're sure whoever had been outside is out of hearing, and then they both allow themselves to breathe again. Gerard carefully withdraws his hand, flexing his fingers a couple of times.
"Sorry." Frank says.
They're hiding in the library, not the student's one, but the teacher's library, and it's small and dimly lit. There's a couple of old-looking chairs placed between the dark bookshelves.
"You think it's safe to go out?" Gerard has a cautious hand on the door frame, and Frank just nods.
They stay close to the wall, Frank's eyes always searching for a place to hide, somewhere close. A door, a curtain, anything that will keep them relatively hidden if they run into one of the intruders.
They have to hide behind a statue of some famous mutant rights activist a floor up, when someone talks in loud voices close to them. Someone laughs. Frank's hands feel rough against the cool surface of the marble statue, and he lets himself lean against it as he peeks out from under its outstretched arm.
Nothing more happens, the voices are still there, not fading away and not coming closer. Deep, men's voices, and it takes Frank a couple of minutes to understand that their tone is mocking. One seems to be doing most of the talking, Frank can't make out the words, and then there's laughter. Slippery, rumbling laughter, like the sound of a bully throwing some cruel joke at his victim with his friends snickering in agreement.
Gerard seems to do his best to make out the words as well, his forehead against the statue's blank shoulder and his eyes focused on one spot.
"We should go back." Frank whispers, but Gerard only raises his hand.
Frank sinks down to lean back on his heels, rubbing his wrists. It's not like they're going to find Mikey, let alone get him back to safety while the school is full of armed humans who wants nothing but to kill them. Frank is actually surprised that they got this far without something happening. He sighs, putting his head in his hands. Maybe it would be for the best if they just stayed there until it was all over.
He's shaken from his thoughts when a loud shriek breaks the air.
Before Frank can do anything, even fully process the fact that the young voice is familiar, Gerard is gone.
Frank curses before pushing himself up and running after him, out from behind the statue and across the carpeted floor. He bites the inside of his lip at the thump, thump, thump noises he's making, but it can't be helped. He pulls in a deep rush of air before sliding around the corner, nearly losing his balance. He's almost out of sight, and he stays completely still.
He counts them, one, two, three, four, five - six humans, one holding Mikey up against the wall with a hand securely curled around his throat. Something disgusting unfolds in his stomach at the sight of their grey, military-like uniforms accessorized with belts of knives that are almost as scary as the rifles hanging from their shoulders.
"Hey."
Their slick expressions freeze when Gerard throws himself at the one holding Mikey, slamming his body against his.
"Let him go!"
Mikey makes a struggling noise and kicks his legs. "Gerard --" he gurgles helplessly as the hand around his neck tightness.
They all seem frozen for a minute, staring at Gerard who is desperately trying to pry away the hand that is holding Mikey. There's a chorus of grunts and offended noises, and the closest one snaps his fingers. "Rick, get him on the ground."
A tall, muscled guy with blond hair sticking out from under his helmet grabs Gerard by his hair and twists one of his arms back, ignoring his scream in pain, and pushes him to the floor, one knee placed over Gerard's lower back.
"They're so stupid," he mutters as Gerard goes limp under him. "Thinking they could fight us."
Gerard makes a low sound of pain, and Frank tries to meet his eyes. His cheek is squeezed against the carpet, eyes glazed over and his lower lip is pulled down against his chin showing off two rows of tightly ground teeth. He moves his head, which results in the guy, Rick, putting on more pressure. The one standing closest to Gerard places his boot over his free arm, right below the elbow, and pushes down, grinning.
Gerard makes the sound again, saying "no, no, get away please," effortlessly, and his eyes close hard.
A noise fills the air, pained and high-pitched and it sounds like someone screaming under water or something muffled by a pillow. It fills the entire room, and a painting hanging on the wall by Mikey's head falls to the floor, the frame cracking into two pieces. Frank sees Gerard's face contoured in agony when the surreal wail stops, and he gasps for his breath.
Then, there's a slow, wet sound of something tearing.
Rick yells loudly and stumbles back with a panicked noise, dragging himself away from Gerard like he was burned. He rips one of his gloves off and holds his hand up.
Frank's eyes go wide at the sight of the hand. Three of the fingers are gone, leaving only dark, bloody stumps on his hand.
"What the fuck?" Rick bends over his hand, shaking. "What the fuck?"
Gerard sobs helplessly and curls into a ball on the floor, hands in his hair, rocking back and forth.
When someone yells "Kill him!" and it ching's in knives, there's a spark of realization in Frank's brain and he pushes off the wall and throws himself into the fight.
Frank thinks a lot of things as he slams his lit fist into one of the nearest guys' face. From the moment his knuckles mash against his blue eye and the bridge of his nose until someone yells "there's more of them", he's completely content with just fighting these guys off, no problem.
He gets hit somewhere above his left eyebrow and white stars appear all over his vision, he blinks but there's another hit, and he thinks that maybe these guys won't wait for him to compose himself.
One of them grabs his arm so hard Frank thinks it'll snap in two and he sinks to his knees under the pain. The guy has a wide jaw and black little eyes sticking out on each side of his pointy nose and he looks like the classical hero of some cartoon, complete with a dip in his chin and everything.
Looking to his side, he can see that Gerard is lifted to a somewhat standing position. One of them is holding him up by his hair, his head yanked back and the sliver of a long knife is pushed against his throat. Mikey looks like he's turning blue, feet still scrambling against the wall effortlessly and Frank never wondered how he was going to die, it always seemed so far into the future.
The one holding his arm lets him go and pushes him to the floor, and it's an immediate relief. He doesn't look away from Gerard's glazed eyes and shallow breaths until the one with the jaw and the black eyes holds his wrist down and slowly, slowly rolls his boot over his fingers, putting all his weight on the hand.
He doesn't think he screams, but his ears are ringing too loud and the white, clear pain is stopping him from breathing. He doesn't know if it's him or if he's blacking out, but the next thing he sees is a woman, oddly familiar, suddenly there, spinning around and hugging close the Anti-Mutant who is holding Mikey.
Everything sounds like it's far away and Frank remembers the time he fell off a chair and hit his head against the linoleum, it felt like this, thick and unreal, but when he hears the noise of tearing skin he sobers up a little.
He recognizes Paige the second she angles her head to the side. She draws back from the embrace, the row of knives sticking out of her torso are dripping with blood and the man lets go of Mikey's neck and drops to his knees, an orange line of blood and spit is siding down from the corner of his mouth. He takes a hand up to feel his stomach before he sinks completely down on the floor.
Frank has to close his eyes and he keeps waiting for the next punch to hit, for a knife to slide into his back or for a bullet to bore itself into the back of his head, but nothing happens. He listens to the hollow noises of bodies falling to the floor and hears the click of a gun somewhere over his head. His fingers are numb, his whole body is numb and he doesn't care anymore, he just wants to sleep.
Part Three