Title: A Splitting Of The Mind - Chapter 2
Author: shoved2agree
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: R/NC-17
POV: First Person - Gerard
Summary: “I used to think I could hide from them. I used to think that they would forget about me. They’re after me, and if they find me, they will try and make me tell them. But I can’t let them know – why am I the only who understands how devastating that would be?”
Disclaimer: A terribly, and (tragically) fake concoction of my overactive imagination.
Author Notes: This is my first post in this community so please be nice. I only posted it because jerseydevil1977 said that if I didn't, she'd kill me. So please don't let her kill me, because I really value my life. (Or at least wait until December. I really DO want to see MCR...). Also, I am not an expert on mental illness and most of my information was extracted from a medical textbook I stole from my mother so I apologise in advance for any incorrect representations or information.
Beta: My bloody awesome concert buddy jerseydevil1977
Warnings: Rape, schizophrenia, adult themes, swearing, angst, homosexuality, sex… others as they occur.

Chapter 1





Chapter 2: Look straight at me and you see yourself.


“Well, good morning, Gerard!” Inside I cringed, but outside I sent the lunch lady one of my most dashing smiles as I picked up my tray. I ignored her persistent attempts for me to converse with her and made my way to my table. Yes it was my table. Nobody sits at my table without my permission. No one.

I glanced down at my chicken noodle soup. Lucky this time it’s not alphabet soup. Otherwise I can guarantee Ray will announce he can see a message in it. Maybe that’s why they stopped serving any dish with letters. I had a customary moment of silence for the loss of alphabet soup off the menu before carefully unwrapping my plastic spoon. I held it firmly because I definitely didn’t want to drop it. Then I would have to get another spoon. And I didn’t particularly want to do that.

“Hey! Ben, Madga, Suzie! Quick, come look at this!” Ray’s voice rang through the cafeteria. I snorted as Ray backed away from his noodles carefully. “Look, it’s a message!”

I knew I could count of Ray to find messages in anything. I just hope they didn’t take noodles off the menu altogether now as well. I quite liked the noodles. Once I had finished I stared at the bowl, at the last dregs of little white worms, wondering where they would go and which ocean they would end up in. I pulled my sketch book out of the inside pocket of my jacket and opened it on the table. I took out my pencil and touched the end to my tongue before pressing it to the page. There wasn’t exactly any artistic reasoning behind that. Just a habit really. I started to sketch the new black haired kid. He was very drawable. He had the perfectly chiselled features and uncaptured beauty of a model, of my next model. I didn’t draw his body. I wanted to get the contours exactly right. They had to be just right. Getting them wrong would be disastrous. But he was rugged up, as we all were, in jackets, scarves and long track pants. I wasn’t cold; I only wore the jacket because they made me. I preferred my black button up formal shirt with a tie. But that was only on Tuesdays and Thursdays. You see, only on days starting with a T could I wear a Tie. On the other days I stuck to hoodies. They’re pretty good with clothes in this place. You get to wear whatever you want, within reason. I mean, they’re not gonna let a manic depressive wear a tie and leave him alone in the bathroom are they? But they trust me. They know I’m not going to kill myself anytime soon. I still haven’t cracked the meaning of life, and they know that.

“Uh, hi.”

My head seems to move very mechanically. It’s quite amusing actually. I glanced straight up at the new black haired kid. The one with the sad eyes and tragically kissed lips. I grunted and looked back down. I stopped scratching with my pencil for a second and heard the heavy, terrified breathing of the kid and felt a pang of sympathy. I wondered which orderly had suggested he talk to me. Probably Ben. I glanced over at Ben. He was watching me. Yep, Ben put him up to it. The only problem was: Why? Sure, I mean, if a kid wants to talk to me, fine. I’m not gonna talk back, but I’m not gonna kick him in the crotch and laugh when he rolls on the floor in pain.

“Can I sit? Please?”

I nodded and he perched himself on the end of the seat opposite me. He just stared at the ground. Then he leapt back up and scurried away. Bemused, I went back to my drawing. A few moments later he comes back and sits back down. He stayed this time and watched me draw until an orderly approached and spoke to him. She left and he followed her. I wondered where he was going. The next thing on the stupid schedule was showers, and that wasn’t for an hour at least. I saw Ben approaching me and as he passed me I hear him murmur, “Thank you, Gerard, for not being an ass.”

I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the session. Why was Ben thankful I wasn’t an ass to the new kid? Why was it so imperative that I was anything but an ass to that kid? Was I gonna get extra pudding after dinner?

At the showers I waited until last, as always. Of course, in here, the showers can’t be enclosed, there are too many kids on suicide watch, so it’s just semi enclosed. I didn’t care what they called it. I shower alone and they let me mostly. I crossed my legs as I sat on the benches waiting for the last person to finish and file out.

“In you go, Gerard,” Ben called.

I looked at him with a face of confusion. He knew I went last. I always went last. Last meant that twerp of a new kid had to go before me, otherwise I wouldn’t be last. I shrugged, remaining defiant.

“Everyone’s gone,” he said. “You’re last.”

I frowned and glanced in the showers myself. Sure enough. It was empty. Where did that new kid get to then? I certainly hadn’t seen him in there. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason why the new kid had to shower separately. I was washing myself, only really putting in a half hearted effort when Ben interrupted me. I went bright red but he ignored my apparent lack of clothing and leant on one of the walls separating the showers.

“I need to ask a favour,” Ben said, in a very serious tone. You see that’s not normal. He’s usually very easy going and light hearted but now he wasn’t.

I switched off the shower, giving him my full attention. Anything to get myself a leg up in this place. He held out a towel and I wrapped it around my waist and stood watching him, waiting.

“You know the new boy? Frank?”

Ahhh, his name was Frank. Interesting. I nodded affirmatively.

“We all thought he would be petrified of you when he saw you.” Ben chuckled at my offended face. “But he’s not that scared, something we’re all very surprised about, considering the reason he’s in here. No, I can’t tell you. That’s personal. But we’d rather he’d hang around with you, rather than Ray or any of the other guys, okay? He’s still scared of you, but at least he’s attempting to make friends.” At that I took a step forward and shook my head violently in protest. I didn’t want friends. I didn’t need friends. I would not make a friend out of this kid. Ben looked saddened. “You don’t have to be his friend, Gerard,” he said angrily. “As much as it would help him, if you simply can’t do a simple thing like that, don’t bother.” Ashamed, I downcast my eyes. “You’re really are as cold as they say, aren’t you?” Without waiting for an answer he squared his jaw and marched out.

Yes, I am that cold. People like me can’t have friends. People like me can’t let people get in close. People like me don’t need friends. Just think of what would happen if I had friends. Doesn’t he realise how fatal that would be to me? I watched him leave, feeling as guilty as shit. As I left the shower I made it my personal mission to find out what it was that landed Frank in here with me.



A/N: The Chapter title was part of a quote by Charles Manson. Google him.