Gerard raises his eyebrows and Frank rolls his eyes.
“The vampire thing. Killing them. You do this too?”
Gerard looks at Frank for a few seconds then shrugs. “Sometimes, I guess.”
“Sometimes.” Frank repeats, and Gerard nods. “How can you sometimes hunt vampires?”
Gerard folds his arms and cocks one hip out, and honestly, Frank’s not staring at this guy’s hips. Really.
“Sometimes I go out, sometimes I don’t,” Gerard shrugs. “It’s not like it’s an occupation or anything.”
Frank squints at the guy and he’s about to say something sarcastic but decides against it when a shooting pain in his side makes him wince. “I gotta go,” he says and he slowly makes his way to the bush where he’d dumped his backpack an hour earlier.
Fran groans against his will as he leans over, but his ribs hurt too much and he can feel his cheek bone aching.
“Here,” Gerard says, suddenly at Frank’s side. “Let me.” He reaches into the bush and grabs Frank’s bag and hands it to him.
“Thanks,” Frank says.
“Anytime.” Gerard smiles.
They stand in silence for a few seconds before Frank says, “Well, I should…”
“Yeah,” Gerard nods. “I’ll, uh, see you around, I guess…”
Frank nods, and turns, making his way through the park and in the direction of his house. He turns once, and he can see Gerard still standing in the same spot, watching him. Normally, Frank would be pissed, because he doesn’t need someone looking out for him, he does this several times a week, every week, and he always makes it home in (almost) one piece. However, tonight Frank doesn’t really mind this strange guy watching him hobble home, and he’s not quite sure why. It could be the fact that the guy’s really fucking pretty and Frank’s stomach flipped pretty fucking hard when he smiled.
Frank shakes his head and soon enough he’s creeping past the giant Newfoundland dog on his porch and is toeing his shoes off and is falling into his bed with a groan.
***
For the next few nights, Frank doesn’t go out. He’s being realistic, and there’s no way he could handle the hunt. It doesn’t stop him from spending his nights wide awake though, sitting by his window and staring at the park where he normally spends the wee hours of the morning.
Frank knows that he can’t stop all the bad guys, he knows that sometimes he gets his ass handed to him, and in the morning some parents will wake up to empty beds in their children’s rooms, or a wife or husband will file a missing person’s report. He knows all this, he knows he isn’t some kind of fucking superhero, ridding the world of all the Nosferatu out there, but if Frank can take out one, just one every now and then, it gives him some kind of validation, like he’s doing something right. Maybe in the morning one woman will wake up and be able to hold her little girl close and kiss her cheek, when she wouldn’t have if some blood sucking monster had had its way. Maybe a husband will go home to a wife and child if Frank stops that dark shadow in the alleyway.
So Frank sits at his window, smoothing some heat rub into his side as he stares at the park just two blocks away.
He’s only been actively hunting the undead for two years now, but he’s been studying it longer. After one deadly incident when he was thirteen that involved a railroad spike and a trampy looking vampire, Frank thought it’d be better waiting ‘til he was a little older.
To this date Frank’s killed fifty-four vampires, but he doesn’t think of himself as an expert of any kind. He keeps a journal with notes from every night of hunting; things he notices about each vamp, tips for the future, how he feels each time he stakes a heart or takes a head.
If Linda knew what her son was doing at night…well, she’d think he was insane, probably. She’d think that all that money spent on therapy as a kid for Frank had been wasted, which, Frank supposes, is true -- after his sessions, he would go home and trawl the internet for credible sites, real accounts of vampirism.
When he’d first spoken to his therapist about the vampires, they’d hit him with this spiel of crap about how he was just a child at the time, conjuring up mythical monsters from movies and books to make sense of his father’s death. Of course Frank knew better, he’d fucking been there, he’d seen it with his own eyes.
But Frank had just nodded, played the perfect patient and got on with his school work, then spent his nights over a laptop screen or book.
Frank sighs and leans his head against the glass, closing his eyes and wishing his stupid ribs would hurry up and heal.
*
The next night that Frank goes back out, he meets Gerard again.
Frank’s just dumped his bag in the usual bush, and is doing a circuit of the play park when he pauses as he sees a dark figure sitting on the roundabout. He swallows and presses a hand against the bandages wrapped around his torso, but as he slowly walks closer, he drops his guard, recognizing the dark hair and slump of Gerard’s shoulders.
“Gerard?” Frank says, clearing his throat.
Gerard looks up and smiles as soon as he sees Frank. “Frank! Hey!”
Frank can’t help but smile, because what the fuck? who the hell smiles when they’re hunting vampires?
Gerard slides off the roundabout and wipes his hands on the ass of his jeans as he walks towards Frank. “You haven’t been out.” He muses.
Frank raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been looking for me?”
Gerard shrugs but there’s a smile on his lips. “Figured you might like some company or something. Killing the undead can’t be a very sociable pastime.”
Frank laughs a little at that. “No, I guess it’s not.”
Gerard sticks his hands into his pockets and watches Frank. “How’re the ribs?” He nods at Frank’s side, and Frank instinctively presses a hand against them.
“Better,” he says. “Thanks.”
Gerard just nods.
Frank stares at him for a few seconds, before he says, “So…how do you know about…about the vampires?”
Gerard chews on his bottom lip and stays silent.
Frank blinks a few times then sighs. He starts to walk, continuing his circuit, but after a few paces Gerard falls into step with him.
“Someone…close to me,” Gerard says slowly, not looking up as they walk. “They were attacked, a couple of years ago…it wasn’t very pretty.”
Frank just nods and doesn’t say anything.
“I guess I just kinda…I don’t want it happening again.” Gerard shrugs and finally looks up at Frank. “What about you?”
Frank lets out a long breath before he says, “The same.”
Gerard nods and doesn’t question him anymore. In fact, for the rest of the night, Gerard doesn’t really say much. He walks with Frank as they do a few circuits of the public park, and they take separate routes to scope out different areas, cover more ground.
At around three am, Frank turns to see Gerard making his way back to the roundabout after taking over the east side of the park.
“Uh, I think I’m gonna get home,” Frank says, and Gerard looks up. He looks a little sad, but he nods. “Got class in the morning,” Frank adds with a sad smile.
Gerard nods and just leans against the poles of the monkey bars. “Will you be out tomorrow night?”
Frank looks up from where he’s retrieving his backpack and thinks he can see a glimmer of hope in Gerard’s eyes. His stomach does that stupid fucking flip again and Frank finds himself nodding.
“Yeah, I’ll be out.”
*
For the next week Frank meets Gerard in the park and they spend a few hours walking around, sometimes even venturing out into their town.
It turns out Gerard just loves to talk. Frank finds out that Gerard wants to go to art school, and he’d love to draw comic books one day. He shows up one night in a Batman shirt and Frank can’t help but be a fan boy and gush about his favourite comic arcs. Gerard just grins and nods along as Frank gets carried away.
Gerard’s got a little brother who’s about a year younger than Frank, from what he can gather, but he and Gerard don’t go to Frank’s school, which explains a lot.
Gerard has a thing for horror movies, and he can name every actor to have played Thomas Sawyer and Jason Voorhees without even thinking. Frank thinks he might be falling for him, just a little.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Frank blurts out one night as they talk about Audrey Hepburn movies, and Gerard pauses and cocks his head at him, an amused expression on his face.
“No…” Gerard trails, and Frank just nods, ducking his head because what the fuck, why did he even ask that?
“Girls don’t really…get me,” Gerard says, and Frank peeks at him from the side of his eye.
“Yeah?”
Gerard nods.
“What about…guys?” Frank asks, swallowing. “Do they get you?”
Gerard just smirks and shrugs. “I dunno…do they?”
Frank doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking.
*
It’s Friday night when they finally come across a vampire.
Gerard spots it first, a female, dark hair pulled into bunches high on her head. She’s creeping behind a high fence and trying to sneak into a garden when Gerard gets Frank’s attention and points her out.
They move quickly, almost in unison, taking her by surprise. She doesn’t put up much of a fight -- well, that’s how Frank feels, because as he swings his machete (that he’d found in his grandma’s basement a few months ago during a spring clean) and takes her head, Frank’s still got his breath and doesn’t feel too tired.
He and Gerard drag her body (well, Gerard does and Frank kind of nudges her head) towards the river. Once she’s been rolled in, Frank falls back against the embankment and Gerard drops down next to him.
“Well.” Gerard says, leaning up on his elbows.
“Yeah.” Frank breathes, and he’s staring at the still water. Frank doesn’t like getting too close to water, he won’t even bathe, always showers, but when it comes to those monsters…well, Frank will risk getting a little closer to the edge.
Frank falls back against the grass and closes his eyes. It feels weird, having someone by his side when he does this, and this is the second time Gerard’s been there, held a vamp down whilst Frank ends their undeath.
“Frank?”
Frank opens his eyes and Gerard’s hovering above him, biting his lip and just watching Frank intently.
“Yeah?” Frank swallows.
Gerard frowns a little, then he leans forward and presses his lips against Frank’s gently. Frank sucks in a breath and doesn’t move. After a few seconds, Gerard leans back, staring down at Frank with wide eyes.
Frank doesn’t say anything at first, just lies there, staring up at Gerard.
“Sorry,” Gerard croaks, and suddenly he’s on his feet, wringing his hands. “I shouldn’t have--”
“I think,” Frank says, slowly climbing to his feet. “If you’re gonna kiss me like that, you should at least buy me dinner.”
Gerard stares at Frank for a few seconds before he lets out a breath and smiles shakily. “Yeah?”
Frank purses his lips and nods. “Yeah.”
*
That night when Frank’s lying in his bed, he can’t believe his life. Like, more so than usual.
Who in their right mind finds someone when they’re hunting vampires? Who ends up falling for someone when they’re out sticking lumps of wood through the hearts of the undead?
This isn’t fucking Buffy, he tells himself, because no, Frank isn’t a pretty blonde former cheerleader, and Gerard isn’t a brooding ancient vampire. This also isn’t Supernatural, and Frank isn’t a pouty hothead with an Impala and Gerard isn’t an angel in a trench coat.
However, Frank smiles into his pillow and closes his eyes. Tomorrow’s Saturday, and for the first time in a while, Frank’s looking forward to tomorrow night.
***
On Saturday, Dewees comes over. Frank’s been friends with James Dewees since they were in kindergarten, and even though he moved to New York last year with his parents, he still makes it through to Jersey every couple of weeks, even if it’s just for a few hours to hit the comic store.
On their way into town, Dewees turns to fix Frank with a look.
“What?” Frank asks as they round a corner.
“That look. What?” Dewees says and Frank screws up his face.
“Dude, what?”
Dewees tilts his head to look at Frank with an intent expression. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?!” Frank laughs.
“That look. The Prince Charming look.”
Frank scowls and reminds himself never to invite Dewees on another family holiday.
“No I don’t,” Frank mutters, and he stuffs his hands into his pockets.
“Dude!” Dewees laughs and practically bounces along next to Frank. “You met someone, didn’t you?”
Frank rolls his eyes. “What age are you, anyway?”
Dewees shoves his shoulder. “Come on Iero, spill.”
Frank sighs and shakes his head. “There’s no one, it’s not…it’s not like that.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it like then?”
Frank lets out an exasperated breath and lets his shoulder slump. “I don’t know! It’s…complicated.”
“Uh-huh.” Dewees says, and he pauses outside the comic store. “So, does Toro know who this new Prince Charming is?”
Frank shoves Dewees and he practically falls in the door. Frank cackles and grabs onto his arm and they both laugh, jostling each other on the way in. When the door falls closed behind them, Frank looks up at the counter and his stomach does a flip.
“Gerard?” He says, eyes wide.
Sure enough, Gerard’s standing on this side of the counter, leaning over an open comic and talking to a skinny kid with glasses on the staff side of the counter. He looks up and stares at Frank with wide eyes.
“Frank. Hi…” He says, standing up straight. The kid with glasses makes a face at Gerard then looks at Frank.
“Uh…what’re you doing here?”
Gerard looks from Frank to the skinny kid. To Frank, it looks like they’re having some strange conversation with their eyes, with lots of eyebrow movement, and it’d be funny if Frank wasn’t so freaked out.
“Uh, this is Mikey…my brother,” Gerard says, and the kid with glasses waves at Frank. “He works here…”
“Oh.” Frank says, and he rubs the back of his neck, ignoring the stare burning into the side of his head from Dewees’ direction. “Cool.”
They stand in awkward silence for what feels like forever to Frank, before Dewees clears his throat and says, “I need some Green Lantern!”
Mikey nods and points in the direction of the comics and Dewees smiles, before he grabs Frank’s arm and drags him to the back of the store.
“Is that him?” Dewees hisses at Frank as soon as they reach the back of the store. “That’s the guy, right?”
“Shh!” Frank hushes. “He’ll fucking hear you, man!”
Dewees turns to glance back to the front of the store then looks back at Frank. “Dude. He is so your type.”
“I have a type?” Frank asks, momentarily forgetting the situation.
“Totally. He looks like a vampire, of course he’s your type!”
Frank feels like he’s been punched in the gut and he just stares at Dewees. “What?” He squeaks.
“Dark hair, pale skin, bags under his eyes, black clothes…so your type, man.” Dewees giggles. “You always go for the dark ones.”
Frank frowns and shakes his head. “No I don’t.” And definitely not someone that looks like a vampire, he doesn’t add.
“Yes you do,” Dewees states. “But it’s him, right? That’s Prince Charming?”
Frank rolls his eyes, but he feels sick. It’s the first time he’s seen Gerard in daylight, and he really doesn’t know how to go about this. Gerard had kissed him last night, so that meant he obviously liked Frank, right?
“He kissed me.” Frank blurts out, and Dewees looks utterly delighted.
“Yeah?!”
Frank nods and glances towards the front of the store. He can see Gerard leaning over the counter and whispering to Mikey.
“Yeah, we were…out. Walking.” Frank says, and he hates lying to Dewees, but he doesn’t have a choice, not really.
“Dude, you should like, ask him out or something…”
Frank holds back a scoff, because he and Gerard are out together most nights now anyway, so what would be the point in that?
Frank shushes Dewees from asking anymore questions about Gerard (Or his Prince Charming, as Dewees has now named Gerard) and makes him pick out his stupid comics (“Since when do you like Green Lantern anyway?!”) and they make their way back to the counter at the front of the store.
Frank hangs back a little as Mikey rings up Dewees’ purchases. Gerard doesn’t look up, and Frank’s a little confused, because it’s not like Gerard to be this quiet.
“So,” Frank says, and Gerard looks up. “How about that dinner, huh?”
Almost instantly Frank regrets speaking, because Gerard doesn’t even answer him, just looks at Frank sadly. Dewees takes his bag from Mikey and shoots a look in Gerard’s direction before he says, “Come on, Frankie,” and Frank just nods and follows him out.
He glances back and sees Mikey looking at Gerard with a stern expression, and Frank wants nothing more than to crawl under a rock and never come out again.
*
That night, once Dewees has left, Frank goes out on the hunt. He doesn’t wait for Gerard by the roundabout and he just starts stalking around the shadows. He really hopes that after that afternoon, Gerard won’t show up. Ever.
So of course it’s when Frank’s muttering to himself that Gerard comes out of nowhere to stand in front of him.
“Frank,” he says, and Frank just glares.
“What do you want?”
“Please, just let me--”
“No,” Frank says, shoving past Gerard roughly. “You don’t need to explain, it doesn’t matter. I was being an idiot, thinking--”
“That I like you?” Gerard says, and Frank stops but doesn’t turn to face him. “Because I do, it’s just…complicated.”
“Whatever.” Frank says. “You don’t even know me, this is just stu--”
Frank gets cut off because suddenly someone comes slamming into him and the next thing he knows he’s on the ground with someone snarling in his face, a mouthful of razor sharp teeth hissing down at him.
“Frank!” Gerard yells, and Frank can feeling Gerard trying to wrestle the vampire off of him. It’s a bit of a struggle, but Gerard is suddenly flying backwards into a tree, arms wrapped around the monster as it claws and gnashes its teeth at Frank as he gets to his feet.
Frank shakily grabs for the stake in his pocket, his chest aching from the wind being knocked out of him. He finally gets a grip on the wood and goes charging towards the vamp in Gerard’s arms, but he kicks up, hitting him square in the chest, sending Frank flying backwards, before he twists and throws Gerard over its shoulder.
Frank hears Gerard land with a thud, but when he twists his head, Gerard is back on his feet again and is running for the vampire. Frank throws the stake along the ground in Gerard’s direction, because there’s no way Frank’s getting to his feet anytime soon, but Gerard doesn’t even look, just wrestles with the creature currently snapping its jaws at him.
Frank groans and tries to drag himself to his feet. Really, how is it fair that he’s the one that gets attacked and goes home with bruises all the time? Whilst Gerard just wrestles with the damn recently deceased.
Frank snatches the stake from the ground and just as he makes his way towards Gerard and the monster, someone else slams into him and takes him down. The snarling in his ear tells him it’s another vampire, possibly the mate, and Frank cannot fucking believe this, because he’s never had to deal with two vampires in one night.
“Frank!” Gerard yells, and Frank just really wishes Gerard would fucking stake that bastard in his arms and come and help him, but when he catches a glimpse of Gerard he’s just rolling along the ground with his assailant.
Frank groans and tries to shove the snarling female off him, but she’s strong and probably weighs twice his weight. They struggle on the ground and Frank keeps trying to knock her head back every time she goes for his neck, but it keeps resulting in him almost losing an arm, and really, how is this even fair?
It’s a few minutes before Frank manages to land a knee in the woman’s stomach and he rolls out from under her, twisting to his feet and throwing a kick at her ribs. He hears a satisfying crack, sending the woman spinning onto her back, and then he’s on her, pushing the stake into her chest. She screams and claws at his arms, ripping through his hoodie and actually breaking the skin, but Frank ignores it. The minute the vamp stops twitching, Frank’s on his feet again.
He looks to where Gerard is holding back the male, his arms locked around the guy’s chest from behind. He’s staring at Frank with wide eyes, and nods.
Frank takes a deep breath and runs forward, plunging the stake into the vampire’s chest, the force of it straining his arm and no doubt giving him a few splinters as the stake snaps in his grasp.
The male doesn’t fight as much as the female, and falls to the ground quickly. Gerard stares down at the body, then back up at Frank. His eyes are wide, just staring, and Frank can’t help himself when he just moves forward, dropping the broken wood in his hand and diving his aching hands into Gerard’s ratty hair.
Gerard makes a squeak and Frank smiles against his lips. What happened in the comic store doesn’t matter anymore, and Frank doesn’t care that he barely even knows Gerard, that he doesn’t even know where he lives, or what school he goes to, all that matters is that he knows Gerard understands him, know that Gerard feels the same as--
Gerard makes a hissing sound and Frank pulls back slightly. Their chests are pressed together, and Frank panics, because shit, what if he got this wrong, what if--
Gerard is wearing a pained expression, his eyes screwed shut, but he isn’t pushing Frank backwards, in fact, he’s holding onto Frank’s elbows, holding him close.
“Gerard?” Frank breathes. “Gerard, what’s wrong? What’s…”
Frank trails off as his eyes travel down to where their chests meet. The collar of Gerard’s t-shirt has been ripped, and Frank’s silver cross is pressing against the exposed flesh.
The flesh is burning, red and swollen, almost bubbling.
Frank looks up, eyes wide and Gerard’s still just watching him with a pained expression.
Without anymore hesitation, Frank stumbles backwards, almost tripping over the bodies on the ground.
“Frank,” Gerard says. “Frank, please, let me explain.”
Frank shakes his head. He feels dizzy, and he almost falls over as he reaches for his bag in the bushes. Reaching in, Frank grabs a silver letter opener that belonged to his grandfather. It’s sharp and pointed, and has done the trick on numerous occasions.
Frank spins back around to face Gerard, the letter opener raised, and Frank can’t help but swallow when he sees the look of hurt flash across Gerard’s face.
“Frank, please,” Gerard pleads. “Just let me--”
“You’re a fucking vampire,” Frank spits out. “You kissed me, and you let me…you let me think you…” he trails off and shakes his head.
“Frank,” Gerard says, but it’s no use, Frank knows what has to be done, and with that he’s running at Gerard, the letter opener raised in his fist. They go crashing to the ground, and Gerard spins them so he’s over Frank, holding down his arms.
“Frank!” He says. “Please, just let me explain!”
“No!” Frank yells, and he raises his head and butts Gerard in the face, making him fall sideways. However, as soon as Frank gets to his feet, Gerard’s there again, hands closing around Frank’s wrists and holding his arms down. Frank tries to kick at him, but it’s no use -- Gerard’s been around long enough to know all of Frank’s moves, to know how Frank operates.
Frank figures he doesn’t care, Gerard fucking lied to him, and he’s gonna do everything in his power to take him out, because he’s just like the rest of the blood sucking scumbags in New Jersey.
Frank manages to get his arms free and swings a punch at Gerard, catching his jaw and sending him stumbling back. Frank rushes forward and shoves at him, landing another punch, and another.
Soon enough, Frank doesn’t know how long he’s been throwing hits and kicks, been shoving at Gerard, and he realises something -- Gerard’s not fighting back.
Frank stares at Gerard, backed against a tree near the back of the play park. There’s a cut above his eyebrow and his bottom lip looks swollen, but Frank knows it won’t be long until they heal -- because Gerard is a fucking vampire.
“Why aren’t you fighting back?” Frank pants.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Gerard says meekly, and Frank just blinks.
“What? You’re a--”
“I know what I am, Frank,” Gerard says, leaning against the tree with his full weight. “But I won’t fight you.”
Frank swallows, and he lets his hand holding the letter opener drop to his side, but he doesn’t loosen his grip on the silver instrument. “Why?”
Gerard stares at him for a few seconds before he says, “Because I’m not like the rest of them.”
Frank scoffs, but stays where he is. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m not, Frank,” Gerard says. “If I was, would I be helping you kill my own kind?”
Frank narrows his eyes. “But you don’t, you just hold them back whilst I--”
Frank cuts himself off when Gerard starts smiling sadly. “What?” He asks.
“It’s one of god’s little tricks,” Gerard says. “A vampire can’t kill another vampire.”
Frank pauses, then squints. “What?”
Gerard sighs and his shoulders sag. “I can’t kill another vampire, no matter how much I want to. Believe me, I’ve tried. ” On the last word, Gerard’s face grows dark and Frank takes a step back.
“Why are you helping me then?” Frank says. “Why would you help me kill your own kind?”
Gerard takes a step forward, and Frank can see the cut above his eyebrow is already healing. “Can we sit down and talk about this?” He looks at the silver object in Frank’s hand. Frank glances down and stares at it himself, before he looks back at Gerard.
He’s trusted him so far…what’s another five minutes?
They find themselves sitting on the old swing set in the park, a few feet apart. Frank doesn’t think he wants to be as close to Gerard right now.
“The person,” Frank speaks up after an eternity of silence. “That was attacked. It was you. It wasn’t someone you knew.”
Gerard nods but doesn’t look up. He kicks some of the woodchips below the swings and sighs. “I was only eighteen,” he says, and swings slightly. “I was walking Mikey home from his karate class, and this guy just attacked us.”
Frank swallows.
“Mikey was only seven, I couldn’t…I couldn’t let him see that, you know?”
Frank nods, because oh, he knows.
“I told him to run, but he didn’t. The guy…the vampire went after him, and I tried to stop him.” Gerard pauses and looks up. “I was trying to save my baby brother.”
“And they got you?” Frank whispers.
Gerard nods. “Mikey got away. My dad and the cops showed up and found me in the park.” He looks up towards the wooded area where he and Frank just came from.
Frank lets out a breath.
“I woke up a few hours later in the morgue.”
“What happened?” Frank asks, staring at his shoes, barely touching the woodchips.
“I freaked out, ran home.” Gerard says. “I showed up at Mikey’s window, and he didn’t even freak out.” Gerard lets out a sad laugh. “The poor kid just fucking hugged me.”
Frank doesn’t say anything -- he doesn’t know what to say.
“My parents know, and so does Mikey, of course,” Gerard says.
“They know you drink people’s blood?” Frank asks scathingly. He looks up and Gerard’s staring at him with a horrified expression.
“No, I don’t-- Jesus, Frank. I don’t hurt people, I don’t…I don’t do that.”
Frank narrows his eyes. Why the hell should he believe him? He’s lied before.
“My mom…she’s a nurse,” Gerard says, and Frank’s eyes widen a little. “She gets me fresh blood when I need to feed. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t hurt someone, I wouldn’t take from innocent people. I’m not like that.”
Frank stares at Gerard in silence. The green in Gerard’s eyes look so bright, as if it’s trying to grab Frank in, take his soul.
“I’m not like the others, Frank,” Gerard adds quietly. “I wouldn’t kill for the sake of killing.”
Frank swallows, and he finds himself nodding, because there’s just something about the way Gerard’s talking that makes Frank believe him.
“So you do this…for revenge?” Frank asks quietly. “For what they tried to do to Mikey…what they did to you?”
Gerard nods. “Isn’t it always about revenge?”
Frank huffs out a breath. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
They sit in silence for a while, only the squeak of the swing chains for sound. Frank doesn’t look up from where he’s staring at his sneakers, but he knows Gerard’s watching him.
“I heard about the bodies being found, and then I saw you one night, from my window. I saw you and when I realised what you were doing…” Gerard trails off. “Frank, I’d never hur--”
Дата добавления: 2015-09-29; просмотров: 24 | Нарушение авторских прав
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