Any Last Words? - New Years Day

"Lay you down to rest in your blood-soaked party dress."

-  Set in England in the early 1850’s (1853)  -

Note: Frank is 22 and Gerard is 27

“When Edinburgh invented the hypodermic needle or the syringe in the late 1800s, 1853 to be exact, opiates would become much more widely used and abused.  At this point in the history of narcotics, the primary method of use was through oral ingestion.  By now, the extraction of morphine from the poppy plant had began (in 1806) and more measured disease were being administered to patients during child labor and other painful procedures. - See more at: http://www.narcotics.com/history/#sthash.Pz5MeOva.dpuf”

Act I

Gerard looks at himself in the mirror. It’s only when he looks at himself directly into the mirror that he feels… Fake. Like if that’s not who he really is. Something is wrong. Something is missing, but every time; he ends up staring at his reflection (a plain, white linen shirt and black slacks, worn-out, black boots. His hair was the same story as his boots; a mop of greasy, tangled raven black hair. He just didn’t care anymore) it’s like his body sends a telepathic message to Frank, who will walk up behind Gerard, snake his arms around Gerard’s waist, and kiss Gerard’s neck –even though Frank had to stand on his toes, which Gerard made sure to point out regularly.

”It’s okay, Gee. We’re okay.” he would say. But Gerard knew that it wasn’t, and he knew that Frank knew it too. They didn’t know anyone else like them, and they felt like freaks for it. So they never showed affection in public, letting everyone think that they were just really good friends. They made sure to keep it all inside the little attic they rent; all the kisses, the caresses, the sex, the small whispers promising love.

Frank and Gerard have to go out for coffee this day. The walk is long, but they don’t have enough money for a ride, nor a horse of their own. They barely have enough money for the coffee they are going to buy, but they never say it out loud. Admitting their problem isn’t going to help them get more money. They could always go to the store right around the corner, but all the supplies in that shop are way too expensive. But their friend, Schechter, sells them for half the price at the edge of the town. Only people that were low on money knew about the place, which was probably for the best considering what Brian (meaning Schechter) does isn’t the most legal.

The walk is rather nice. It’s just the right temperature for an English spring in 1853. Birds singing, children laughing, all that cliché shit. Or rather, what Gerard found cliché. Frank thought it was calming, and almost made him smile as the scenery reminded him of books he had read. Gerard found it annoying, and he could never understand Frank’s amusement for books. Then again, Gerard couldn’t read. His mother couldn’t afford school for both Gerard and his brother, Michael. And where is father was, was a really good question, because nobody knew. Michael was the one who ended up with an education, which Gerard had insisted on.

But as Frank and Gerard are walking down the street, a rather unpleasant surprise is waiting them. They are currently in the rather shady part of the city, and are walking down a back lane, taking a short cut to Brian’s shop, when a silhouette steps in front of them. Frank immediately stops Gerard by stretching out an arm. It was a person, more exactly a man, and as the man came closer, Frank recognized him right away.

”Bob.” he chokes out. But Bob just smirks and pulls out a knife from his pocket. Frank and Gerard don’t hesitate in turning around and run, but then someone grabs them both from out of the shadows. The two new men soon threw them up against the brick wall. Frank knew who the one holding Gerard was, Brendon, but he had no idea who the short guy holding himself up was.

”How nice of you to visit,” Bob starts, no one answers. They are too busy struggling to get loose, ”it has been some time, hasn’t it, Frank?” Bob is eyeing Frank for a second before turning to Gerard, ”Ah, and Gerard, nice to meet you too. McCracken, oh wait, that’s Bert to you, is really missing you.”

”Don’t you dare talk to Gee about that bastard” Frank spits, but Bob just sniggers.

”I didn’t come here to small chat, Iero” Bob’s glare hardens, ”You still owe him those money” he comes closer, the knife all up in Frank’s face.

”Is he still mad about that? For Christ’s sake, that’s ages ago!” Frank cries out. He catches Gerard in the side view, at the edge of tears. He has always been so sensitive; he can never handle situations like this. He can’t even handle regular situations, which contains social interaction with people who are not Frank. But Frank was the opposite; he always spoke directly from his gut, and sometimes from his dick, without thinking twice. He can get violent if he has to, and small dilemmas and stuff can trigger his enormous anger issues.

”I honestly don’t think Master cares, considering we are here right now. That was a shit ton of money, Iero.”

”You sound like a fucking dog, Bryar”

Bob completely ignores that statement, because Bob knows very well that that was exactly what he was: Bert McCracken’s puppet. ”This has been a warning, Frank. You know what power Bert sits on. He snaps his fingers, and you are both dead within seconds. He is being kind considering the circumstances-”

”Is he wearing make-up?!” Bob is cut off by a disgusting sounded Brendon, who suddenly drops Gerard and backs away, wiping his hands on his pants, ”what a freak!”

And that is what sets it all off, Gerard starts sobbing there on the ground, curling into a fetal position. Frank is outrageous and punches the unknown guy that is holding him up, right in the face. The guy flinches away, and drops Frank.

Bob knows that if they don’t leave, Frank will throw a fit, and he’d like to not experience that again.

”Urie, Wentz, come on, our work is done here” Bert turns around and starts running in the opposite direction of where they first came from, Brendon and the Wentz dude tight in his track, ”This has been really fun, Iero, I’m sure we’ll see each other real soon!” and like that, they’re gone.

Frank just yells back at them, and then realize where he is. He drops down to his knees in front of Gerard.

“Babe? Babe!” he shakes Gerard’s shoulder, his tears clouding his view. Though he was still able to see Gerard’s bloody cheek, red swollen eyes and runny nose. “Ohmygod, Gee, I am so sorry, this is all my fault.” Frank’s voice begins to thicken do to the lump forming in his throat.

“It’s okay, Frankie.” Gerard manages to choke out.

After promising each other everything is all right, they soon make their way home, forgetting all about the coffee.

Act II (part 1)

Several weeks later, Frank and Gerard have managed to push the events to the back of their minds.

Right now Frank was working. He had managed to get a job at the local blacksmith’s, and Gerard was bored out of his mind. So he did something he hadn’t done in years. He went outside alone.He put on his best coat and shoes, and locked the door behind him.

The day is much like the day weeks ago, but Gerard doesn’t think much about it. He focuses mostly on keeping his head high, and to not let anxiety take him. He is feeling quite proud of himself there he walks.

There aren’t many people outside today, not that Gerard minds. He finds it quite peaceful, and he starts to wonder why he doesn’t do this more often. Though he can’t shake of this nagging feeling in his stomach.

His mind wanders to when he was 16. He tries to force himself to not remember what happened, but he can’t help himself. His best friend of 8 years’ death. He had been different, just like Gerard.  He had also shown a major attraction to the male sex. Ryan was only 15 when he was executed because someone had seen him kiss another boy. Who it was? Gerard wasn’t sure, but he was never caught. Gerard still misses Ryan; he just tries really hard to not remember, because it makes him angry. That was the last known execution for homosexual activity, and Gerard is so fucking angry.

Just as he decides he wants to go to the park to calm down and maybe do some drawing, someone grips him from behind and Gerard is suddenly thrown at the ground. He hits his back hard on the stony concrete, and a groan of pain escapes his lips. Gerard looks up and is met by two very familiar faces.

“Well, well, Gerard,” Wentz chuckles while yanking Gerard up by the collar of his white shirt. He is soon being pushed into a small, dark alley Gerard previously missed. Before he can get a hold of himself, a punch is being thrown at his jaw.

Lying there on the ground, he Gerard spits out some salvia, which is tainted with red, “What the hell do you want?” he says with a thick voice.

“Oh, I see Iero has influenced your innocent nature,” Brendon smirks, “speaking of which; he seems to have forgotten our last encounter. I think it’s time we remind him.” He grins at the Wentz kid, before bending down and pulling Gerard up again. Urie squints his eyes and purses his lips while studying Gerard’s face, “Isn’t it annoying how we always meet under these circumstances?” He waves his hand around as to point out the small alley.

Gerard just stares hard at him, but not for long as a knee hits him. Again and again.

Act II (part 2)

Frank is outrageous. Gerard has never seen him like this, and he isn’t sure if he likes it.

Gerard had made it home, but only barely. It had been late at night when he finally got back, since he had practically been knocked unconscious. At first, Frank had just been slightly mad out of worry because he didn’t know where Gerard had been, and he hadn’t left a note, but then he noticed Gerard’s bloody and bruised face, mud and dried tears smeared together. It was a sight Frank never had never even imagined seeing, such painful marks all of Gerard’s face. After Gerard had told him what happened, Frank had already smashed two mugs and a vase.

He wants revenge, Gerard knows because Frank told him so.

“Frank, please, it won’t do any good. You already have some money from working for the blacksmith.” Gerard tries to change Frank’s mind, but it isn’t helping.

“No! I’m not going to let them get away with beating you into a pulp. I can’t take the chance of letting this happen again for something that was my fault.” Frank’s face is showing everything from rage to hurt to fear.

He sighs, “Come on, Gerard, let’s get you cleaned up.”

While Gerard is being cleaned, Frank starts talking again: “You know, I spoke to Schechter today. Rumor is, McCracken is holding a masquerade ball this Saturday…”

“So?” Gerard shrugs as Frank cleanses the washcloth he has been using in the washtub.

“Well, this friend of Brian’s has two invitations, and… Ehe, this is where it gets tricky.”

“Why would we want the invitations, Frank?” He is confused, so Gerard’s eyebrows knit together, his heart rate speed up as he starts to make sense out of what Frank has said. But he still refuses to take any conclusions yet.

“I have been thinking about this for a while, Gerard. Ever since they jumped us on our walk. This can be our chance to take revenge, Gee!”

That’s exactly what he feared Frank would say.

“Frankie, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Gerard jumps off the counter when Frank is done.

“Please, listen to me, okay? We get the invitations, get costumes, get some guns, and then we shoot Bert.” He says it without blinking or hesitating, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. It honestly scares Gerard so much, he can barely recognize his boyfriend.

“What?!” Gerard’s eyes are as big as salad plates. He couldn’t believe his own ears.

“You heard me.” He simply said.

Gerard groans and heads for the couch. When he sits down he rests his hands on the knees and his palms placed over his eye sockets, he doesn’t care that it makes his black eye hurt even more, “how did we even get in this mess?” he asks out loud, without the intention of someone answering. He had never heard Frank’s version of the story, because they kind of had an unwritten rule to never speak of their past again. Well look how well that worked.

“I was McCracken’s smuggler.” Frank sits beside Gerard, wanting to put his arms around him, but afraid that he will accidentally hurt his bruised body, and also fearing rejection. He knew what a fuck-up he was, there was no way Gerard hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah, I know, but… You never told me you owed them money.” Gerard feels like he has been lied to.

“You never asked.” Frank retorts simply. He snorts at the memory, “You looked pretty stupid there in that ridiculous suit standing besides Bert.”

That makes Gerard giggle, “Yeah? Well you just walked in there like you owned the place!”

“I did!” Frank says with a laugh, “I was his best man, I could practically do whatever the hell I wanted to!”

“Yeah, well obviously you couldn’t, seeing as where we stand right now. And stop swearing, or I’ll have to wash your mouth with more soap than water.”

Frank kisses him on the cheek, “I didn’t like the way he touched you, nor the way he looked at you. And I kind of liked you.”

Gerard shoves him playfully, “Kind of? Aw, I’m hurt.”

“Okay then, kind of really liked you,” Frank twists Gerard’s head so that they were face-to-face and looked him deep in the eyes, “You know that I love you, right?”

“Yes,” Gerard whispered, “I love you too.”

“Good I was starting to worry.” Frank broke into a grin, and Gerard can’t help but grin back. They would be fine, he was sure…

Act III

Gerard looks at himself in the clear water of the fountain. He doesn’t feel fake, like if this is who he really is. Everything is right. Everything is where it’s supposed to be, and he just can’t stop staring, in a long, black beautiful puffy dress, light make-up and dolled up hair. He isn’t used to be wearing heels, even though he has tried it a few times before, and even though he sucks at walking on them he can’t help but feel so extremely confident. It’s like his body sends a telepathic message to Frank, who soon walks up beside him, gazing up at the same building Gerard is. He takes Gerard’s hand, looking at the other people streaming elegantly up the stairs to the mansion.

“It is okay Gee, we will do okay.” He says, and Gerard can’t help but notice the slight hint of fear hidden behind his words.

They were both afraid someone would recognize them, but Frank had assured Gerard that if they just avoided the right people and did what they had to do as quick as possible, they would be fine.

They pull down their masks synchronically and start to make their way up to the heavy doors. A man is standing by the entrance, and Frank immediately recognizes him, and he is guessing Gerard does too, because he tenses up slightly. Frank gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Invitations?” The strong-looking guy barks.

They both hand him their tickets, and he looks at them suspiciously. He glances back at the odd-looking couple, sensing that something is up, but doesn’t say anything, only huffs them forward shifting his attention to the next guests.

Some people would probably say something about how they were now safe inside, but that was not the case, the dangers had just started.

Music from the rented orchestra was softly filling the huge ballroom, and Gerard and Frank had quite the view over the whole room. They were standing at he top of the stairs leading down. Moving bodies were swirling around on the floor, shaping a moving painting of bodies and colors and circles.

“Remember the plan?” Frank says hushed into his partner’s ear, searching for Bert in the mass of dancing people.

Gerard nods without looking at Frank and clutches his purse protectively.

As they descend from the stairs, odd looks are thrown their way, but no one does anything. And suddenly, right there in front of them is the man himself, Bert McCracken. Frank can feel something stirring at the bottom of his stomach by the sight of the greasy, black haired man, the only one present without a mask, a feeling he knows very well, pure hate.

And Gerard notices, oh yes he does, and suddenly he regrets everything. He regrets ever agreeing to this, he regrets going out that day earlier, he regrets getting into this mess from the very beginning, the moment Frank strolled into Bert’s office with a bag full of syringes he should have known it would all lead to trouble. He just wishes he could turn around and just leave it all behind, climb back into bed with Frankie, or that he could just wake up. Because it doesn’t feel real, not at all, not any of this. It all feels like a painful fever hallucination. Glittery masks and dresses everywhere, like if he was high on the poppy plants he knew Bert has stashed in a basement underneath them. Like if he is part of a fast song filled with gory lyrics and happy sounding music that makes you feel like you’re on a weird trip. It all becomes hazy, and everything feels so fake again as Frank smoothly pulls his pistol from the inside of his coat.

Gerard doesn’t even have time to react when someone grips both of them from behind and the music stops abruptly, together with all the dancers.

Bert turns to face them with a smirk, the silence lying heavily over the whole assembly. Then he starts chuckling, which soon turns into a full on laughing fit. Frank struggles to get out of the death grip he is locked in.

“I- I can’t believe you went on it!” Bert manages to choke out, wiping tears from his eyes, “God, you are so fucking stupid.”

“What the hell are you on about?!” Frank barks at him.

“You seriously thought you could just barge in here and shoot me? Honey, I am not that stupid,” Bert grins and steps forward to grab Frank’s gun. He studies the weapon for a moment before pointing it at the owner, “I don’t really have a poetic saying for your ending, I will have to think about that.”

Gerard shouts a no. He swears to God, if Bert does anything…

Bert looks over at the interrupter, “oh my god, Gerard, is that you? What are you wearing? I mean, it suits you; I have to admit that, because I am no liar, but wow.”

Frank scowls at Bert, “If you touch him, I will rip your fucking neck off.”

Bert raises his eyebrows at that, “I forgot how big your mouth was.”

The crowd that surrounds them is just staring. No facial expressions, nobody says anything. Like if this whole ball was just set up. Which it of course is, but Frank and Gerard doesn’t know that.

“I’m going to miss your big mouth, Frankie.” Bert raises the gun to Frank’s head.

And if Gerard hasn’t already lost it, this is the moment. He starts screaming and sobbing, but Bert ignores him.

“I still don’t understand how you didn’t realize that this was a trap.”

“W-what do you mean?” Frank spits out, trying to stay calm. But he already knows where this is going to end.

“Oh come, on, this whole ball is basically your funeral party! Don’t you realize, this whole thing was just for you two?” Frank keeps scowling at Bert as he throws his arms into the air, “That tonight is the night you die?” Frank thinks he sounds way to enthusiastic.

Gerard would probably be lying on the floor right now if it wasn’t for the fact that he was stuck in a stranger’s suffocating grip.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bert started, pointing the gun back at Frank, a determined frown on his face “I would say something cliché like ‘any last words?’, but I know how much you hate that.” And before anyone had the chance to blink, the loud bang echoed through the room, though no one flinched, and the bullet was safe and sound inside Frank’s skull.

If Frank could have been able to see it, he probably would have laughed at the sight, but he was already dead, and it wasn’t exactly a situation to laugh in.

Gerard refuses to look, choking on his own tears. He doesn’t care anymore, he doesn’t care at all. Frank was gone, he might as well be.

He could hear the smirk in Bert’s voice, “And now I will lay you to rest in your blood-soaked party dress, Gee.”

And that was that.

-end-

a/n

lmao what. i posted this before, but deleted it cause i made this collection of oneshots, bUT THEN I FORGOT TO POST IT. so yah. most of yall have probs read this, but its finally up again. yall welcome. sorry.

btw, i havent read thru it cuase ill just cringe, but i read the last sentence and im just like????how tf kinda ending sentence is that. but im too lazy to change it, enjoy

-pece, zoo