Why I love you

My obsession with FRERARD (MCR) now continues with fanfiction :)
Warning on explicit material.


28. Acceptance

Gerard’s POV

Love was the first emotion I felt and I hated that despite all he had done to me and Mikey, he could still get that emotion from me. Quick to follow was anger, anger at the others for doing this, at Mikey, at me for the love I could still feel for him, then anger at Frank. He sat in the corner, his legs pulled up on his chair, which was positioned so it was facing the window. He had to turn his head to look at me, an action which was obviously hurting him. I could see from here his arm was still in its sling and I could see bulges under his shirt which I thought were probably bandages. I couldn’t see him very well but the paleness of his skin was obvious from the window’s light. This just made the bruises on his skin more obvious, black and blue against the white. I suppose he was waiting for an answer but he wasn’t going to get one. I was battling with a hundred different emotions and I could tell by his confused expression that each one was playing out on my face.

The final emotion that came was hate. Pure hate for the boy across the room from me. Hate for what he had done to me, done to Mikey. Mikey might have forgiven him but I knew I never could. Frank gave a little smirk as he looked behind me at the door where I’m sure the others were stood peering in. The smirk he must have worn after he had fucked Mikey, after he had used him. Because I now realised that while he might have loved me, at least for a little while, that Mikey had just been a cheap fuck. And Mikey knew it too. I had seen it in his eyes when he tried to tell me the first time what Frank had done. He hadn’t even told me probably, hadn’t said the words out loud. Frank needed to hear them, from me. The smirk was now wiped from his face as I took one deliberate step towards him. His body crumbled in his chair and fear made his slinged arm begin to shake. He stood up, not wanting to be sat down when he reached me but even with that extra height, I was still much taller than him and this, I realised, made him more scared.


The whisper didn’t even register in my head as I took a second step towards him. He now started to look like an animal in a trap, he looks so scared and upset that I could turn on him like this. He should be used to it by now, after I’d hit him. But he deserved it, if not after me, then after Mikey. I hoped I could make him feel how he had made Mikey feel. Even from this distance though I started to question whether I could really hit a boy in a sling, if I could really deliberately hurt Frankie. Yet as I saw the image of my crying brother in my head, yes, I think I could.

“You used him, Frank,” the sentence was sharp and seemed to cut into him, making tears spring into his eyes.

The tears just reminded me of all the tears Mikey had shed. Frank started to shake his head but seeing the hard expression on my face he seemed to be trying to physically stop his own head from shaking, using his good hand to grasp a handful of his hair. He looked at me, properly so I could see the frightened look in his eyes. Yet, there was still some other emotion there, maybe hope, maybe love, either way some part of him didn’t believe I would hurt him, didn’t believe I could hurt him. I would just have to prove him wrong about that, wouldn’t I?

“You hurt him, Frank,” my voice had begun to take on a harsh raspy quality that I’m not sure I liked, but it was too late now, there was too much hate in me to stop.


His cry followed more tears and his breathing had got faster, his head still clutched in one hand. He shook like I had never seen anyone do before. His legs seemed ready to buckle beneath him and though I hated to say it, I relished in his pain. I was doing this for Mikey, he had used Mikey. But hadn’t he hurt me too, was I doing this for me a little bit too? Of course I was, but this wasn’t entirely selfish, Mikey was the main reason. Even if my little brother couldn’t see who Frank really was, I could and I would make him pay for it.

“You deserve this, Frank. You know you deserve everything you get!”

At this, his legs collapsed underneath him, pulling him to the ground. He crouched, his head down not looking at me but he began to sob uncontrollably, his cries filling the room. I could hear sounds coming back the door and shouts which were muffled through the door. They were trying to get the door open unsuccessfully, knowing their plan had gone wrong somewhere. Yet for me and Frank everything was falling into place. Frank still wouldn’t look at me, his hair covering his face, a face that I had touched, that I had kissed, that I now wanted to hurt. I quickened my steps, reaching him. His breathing stopped as he saw my feet, his tears falling onto the ground, millimetres from my shoes. I grabbed a handful of his hair, shoving his hand off his head to be replaced by mine. Except my fingers knew just how to pull his hair to make his head come back. His pale face looked broken in the light, his eyes red and raw, his tears wetting his face. And his eyes, I couldn’t quite look at his eyes. I knew that hurt I would find there might make me stop, and I couldn’t stop.

“You’re nothing.”

Frank didn’t even reaction, his face told me he had heard it all before. I raised my hand, cupping it into a fist. He needed this and his eyes didn’t even close. For one strange second, I thought he seemed ready to welcome the pain. The sounds from the door got more frantic and as one last tear fell from Frank’s eyes I knew I was ready, probably ready to give Frank what he deserved. He let out one final sob as my hand flew fast at his face.

“Gerard, don’t you fucking dare!”

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