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Dance While the Sky Crashes Down NC-17/~56k Frank/Gerard 8 страничка


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“I have a bunch of dry t-shirts in my pack,” Gerard points out as he grabs Frank’s hoodie and chucks it in with his jacket.

Even though all of Gerard’s shirt are dirty and probably smell like ass, Frank grabs one of them. He’s not going to be picky today.

He takes off his shirt and throws it on the pile of wet clothes in the back. Gerard’s t-shirt feels so nice and warm on his skin. It actually smells a lot like Gerard himself which isn’t a bad thing at all.

They all change their shirts but that’s all. They don’t have extra sweaters hidden at the bottom of their packs and no change of socks.

Frank’s jeans stick to his legs. It’s too uncomfortable to move, too tight.

“I’m gonna take five,” Mikey mumbles as he turns off the light and lies down across the seats, his legs awkwardly spread on the dashboard and his head propped up against the window in a position that cannot be comfortable at all.

And yet, Mikey falls asleep.

“It’s like his superpower,” Frank whispers after a few minutes as he shifts on the seat to get closer to Gerard and share his warmth.

The denim of his wet pants clings to his knees, which brings forth a lot of pain; so much pain Frank bites hard into his bottom lip so he doesn’t cry.

“Let me see,” Gerard says, lifting Frank’s leg up and pulling it across his lap. He slips his hand through the hole in Frank’s jeans and drags his fingers along the cut, slow and soothing. “We’ll take longer breaks tomorrow,” he adds with a frown.

“I’m fine. I can walk for a few more hours.”

“How about your neck? Does that still hurt?”

Frank shakes his head. It stings a bit when he touches it or when his clothes rub against it but that’s all. It could have been much worse if Gerard hadn’t been there.

Gerard leans in and plants a kiss on the cut. He wraps his arms around him, hooks his chin on Frank’s shoulder and murmurs, “Are you warm?”

“Not really. Are you?”

Gerard shakes his head. He slides in closer and lies down before pulling Frank beside him.

The seat is a little narrow to fit two people but they manage, mostly because Gerard is holding Frank really tight against him.

Gerard pulls something out of his backpack, another pair of shirts and lays them on top of them, makeshift blankets that smell fucking rancid. Their only real blanket is still in Mikey’s bag but Frank doesn’t want to wake him up just for that.

It feels really nice. The seats are comfortable and Gerard is really warm. Frank could probably fall asleep if he tried really hard.

“Will you hate me forever if I tell you I’m not exactly sure where we are right now?” Gerard asks, his knee shifting up and down the back of Frank’s leg. It feels so good that Frank’s can’t really be mad at Gerard about anything.

“N-no,” he stutters, closing his eyes as Gerard starts kissing the nape of his neck.

Frank doesn’t really give a shit where they are. He’s just glad Gerard and Mikey are here.

“I don’t know how to get to the place because I don’t know where we are,” Gerard says and then he’s not kissing Frank’s neck anymore and it doesn’t feel right.

Frank looks over his shoulder and gives Gerard a small smile he hopes looks reassuring enough. He doesn’t care if they don’t find the place. As long as Gerard and Mikey are here, he’s happy. “We’ll figure it out.”


Gerard wakes up to the sound of an engine roaring and freaks out.

He sits up so fast his head spins and gasps in horror. They are under attack. Someone is trying to hurt Mikey or Frank or both and he fell asleep and they’re all dead and—

Gerard sees Frank sat in front of him and then he notices Mikey is driving. They’re not dead. They’re all here and they have a new car.

He blinks at the road for a few seconds and how strange it looks through their broken windshield before shifting forward to touch Frank’s shoulder.

“Good morning, baby,” Frank says, turning back to give Gerard a bright smile, so bright that it makes Gerard’s heart skip a beat.

“Morning, loser,” Mikey mumbles, his eyes leaving the road only for a second. “We thought you were dead.”

Frank laughs, breathy and raw. “Look who’s fucking talking. Isn’t that the Duke of I-fucking-sleep-standing-up?”

“What? I’m awake right now and I’ve been driving around for two hours. So don’t even start.”

Frank puts his hand over Gerard’s and gives it a soft pat.

“And it’s Duke of Awesome,” Mikey protests.

“Where are we?” Gerard asks. He doesn’t recognize anything and yet it all looks the same, like Mikey’s been driving in circle all morning and they’re about to see the dead deer again.

Frank shrugs. “We’re not sure but we’re heading west. We need to stop for gas really soon.”

Gerard eats what’s left of the Oreos for breakfast or lunch. He’s not really sure what time it is. Frank is the only one to bother with time anymore.

They drive for another hour or so before they find a gas station, just a stone’s throw away from a tiny town Gerard has never heard of.

He doesn’t want to tell Mikey they’re lost; that he got them lost by being an idiot and by not planning this more carefully.

There are a few cars parked outside the station and Frank does his pumping thing on a few of them which shouldn’t look sexy at all but kind of does after a while.


It’s weird how Frank can tell the difference between all the kinds of fuels just by tasting them, but it’s also pretty impressive.

“You’re never going to want to kiss me now that I taste like fuel,” he says, coughing, spitting and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Gross,” Gerard says even though he doesn’t think it is.

They haven’t kissed yet. Gerard is starting to think it may never happen because he missed his chance about ten or twenty times already, and Frank might realize how lame he really is soon and that he should have picked Mikey to make out with from the start.

“My life sucks. You have no idea,” Frank says as he gets up and buries his nose in the collar of Gerard’s jacket. Then he coughs for so long that Gerard thinks he might be dying right here and right now under his very terrified eyes.

Gerard pats his back and waits for Frank’s coughing fit to stop, feeling helpless.

Their clothes are still humid and Frank’s jeans look really tight on him today. He looks like he has more trouble walking around too; probably because of his knee.

Once Frank is done filling up the tank, they all march down the gas station. It looks empty, safe. There’s not much there, just some beef jerky and gum and also a few packs of cigarettes Gerard grabs off the shelves before Mikey can call dibs on them.

However, Mikey doesn’t seem to care much about the cigarettes for now. He’s hovering by the checkout counter, humming under his breath. When he notices Gerard, he grabs something, maybe a book or a newspaper and hides it behind his back.

“Tell me I’m awesome.”

Gerard doesn’t really have time to waste playing games. “What did you find?”

“Tell me I’m awesome first and I’ll tell you,” Mikey says, his lips pursed.

Gerard sighs and rolls his eyes. “You’re awesome,” he mumbles, half-assed.

Mikey cocks his head to the side and mumbles something Gerard doesn’t catch before pulling a booklet under Gerard’s nose. “I found a map,” he says with a smug look.

Frank snakes an arm around Gerard and snags the map from Mikey’s scrawny fingers.

“Yeah. I told Mikey I’d like to know where we’re heading. Thought you might want it,” he says, unfolding the map on the counter after giving Gerard a wink and a smile.

Gerard fucking loves him.

“Hmm. So we’re going there. Blairsville,” he says, pointing at their destination. It’s definitely Blairsville.

“And we are?” Mikey asks, looking at Gerard from above his glasses.

Gerard has no fucking idea so he just points at a dot on the map at random. “Here.” They should be close to that place anyway. “Or possibly here?”

“Yeah. That name looks familiar,” Frank says as he pulls his arm from Gerard’s waist.

Gerard is about to fold the map when Mikey grabs it.

“Fuck you. I know what I saw. You were snoring while I was driving, remember? We’re here,” he says, pointing at a dot that’s not anywhere near Blairsville. If he’s right, they went too far down south and are about to reach Gainesville.

Gerard reaches for the map but Mikey doesn’t want to let it go.

“I should drive from now on,” Gerard says, cornering Mikey against a slushie machine and tickling that spot above Mikey’s hip that always makes him squirm. “You didn’t even get your license,” Gerard mumbles, stealing the map back.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Using torture on your own brother now?”

“Why are you guys even fighting?” Frank asks, looking slightly worried and a lot confused as they make their way back to the car.

Gerard gives him a lopsided smile. “We’re not fighting. He’s just being a dick.”

Mikey glares at him. “You’re the dick. Dick, dick, dick.”

“Give me the keys, dick.”

“You should reconsider making out with my brother,” Mikey tells Frank as he throws the keys in Gerard’s direction. “He’s too much of a dick.”

“I like dicks,” Frank says with a huge grin. He bites his bottom lip and Gerard feels really warm all of a sudden. Like, his cheeks are probably bright red and he’s starting to sweat profusely.

“I figured, yeah,” Mikey mumbles as he climbs in the backseat. “Now, could we stop talking about dicks?”


They’re lost but Gerard seems to hide it pretty well from his brother, or at least for a little while. He occasionally glances at the map, frowns at the road signs and chain smokes to hide his nervousness.

Frank doesn’t know where the cabin is so he doesn’t open his mouth while Gerard is taking them through narrow dirt roads that never lead anywhere.

Gerard looks already stressed by the whole thing. He probably doesn’t need Frank asking him if they’re close to their destination every five minutes. Mikey is doing that pretty well on his own.

They don’t reach the cabin by nightfall but Gerard refuses to spend another night in the car.

“I don’t mind sleeping in the back with you,” Frank says but Gerard ignores his comment and keeps driving.

The cracked windshield makes it nearly impossible to see anything and Gerard has to pull over so he can check the map in Frank’s lap.

“I know where we are. I just,” he mumbles, looking in the rearview mirror at his sleeping brother. “I want you to sleep in a real bed tonight. Mikey too.”

Frank shrugs. “I don’t care about a fucking bed.” He really doesn’t. He could sleep in the backseat with Gerard again. He likes having him close by, so warm and so tender.

Gerard reaches up and runs a hand in Frank’s hair, scratching his skull. “You haven’t been sleeping for days and you’ve been coughing again.”

“I’m not getting sick,” Frank says which happens to be a lie. He’s been feeling tired and sore for a while now but the coughing started again this morning. He shouldn’t have stayed in his wet clothes since his immune system is crap. It’s his own fault, really.

Gerard doesn’t seem convinced but he lets go of Frank’s hair and pulls back onto the road after a minute.

They get lost two or three more times but Gerard seems too resolute to give up and then, just as Frank is starting to doze off, they find it.

It’s early the next morning when Gerard parks the car in a narrow road in the middle of the woods. He turns off the engine and stares at the big wooden sign ahead.

“I think this is it,” he says, his voice shaking with what could be anticipation.

The sign says the place is a camping area and that visitors should keep it clean but that’s it. It doesn’t say anything about a cabin or how big and comfy it is or if it has hot water so Frank can shower. It doesn’t say anything about a King size bed where he could sleep for two straight weeks.

“Mikey?” Gerard says, turning to his brother and shaking his knee vigorously. “We’re here.”

Mikey mumbles and swats at his brother’s hand. Then he stirs, moans and yawns before finally opening his eyes to stare at Gerard and Frank.

“Is it morning already?” he asks in a rough voice.

“Yeah. Time to go for a walk,” Gerard says, pocketing the keys and climbing out of the car.

They take most of their things out of the trunk and head down a narrow and somewhat steep trail.

It takes them less than five minutes to get there. The cabin is standing in the middle of a meadow, a bit run down, but Frank is willing to work with it. It has four walls, a door and a roof and it’s what really matters to him right now.

Mikey rushes in first and the door falls on the floor as he pushes it open. A cloud of dust billows around him and Mikey is forced to retreat back on the porch.

They walk through the front door together, a united front in the face of…whatever the cabin is going to throw at them next. Maybe a flock of bats or a lumberjack with crazy eyes and a chainsaw.

When Frank steps inside the cabin though, he notices how comfortable it could be, once they fix that huge hole in the roof and once they put the door back on its hinge. There’s a smell of pine and rain in the air. It’s dusty and old but it’s perfect for them.

There’s no bed to sleep on, and no other furniture than a sturdy looking wooden table and a chair, right in the center of the room. There’s also a fireplace which is probably the best thing about this cabin.

Frank drops his bag by the door and coughs. The dust isn’t so bad now. He probably has a cold, nothing a little fire can’t fix.

Mikey stares at the hole in the ceiling, looking a little perplexed and turns to Frank.

“I could fix this or I could leave it like that and say it’s a window,” he says with a half grin.

Frank laughs and turns to Gerard.

He is oddly quiet as he leans on the door frame and scans the place.

“It’s not bad,” Frank says with a smile. He likes it a lot. He could live here.

“I’m gonna,” Gerard starts, looking unimpressed and maybe a bit disappointed as his shoulders drop. “Gonna get stuff from the car,” he finishes before climbing down the porch and shuffling back to the car.

“I don’t think Gerard likes the extra window idea as much as we do,” Frank says, pulling the door off the floor and propping it against the wall.

“Wood,” Mikey says, looking unfazed. Then he’s rushing past Frank and disappearing into the forest.

Frank shrugs and heads back to the car, his enthusiasm slowly receding. They have a lot of work if they want to fix this place before nightfall and they might as well start now. Frank would be alright with that if he wasn’t so damn tired.


He fucked up. He fucked everything up. He asked Frank to follow them. He forced Mikey to leave their home and now they have nothing. They can’t live in this place. It looks nothing like he remembered.

It used to have bunk beds and armchairs and pictures on the walls. There used to be an ugly rug and a pantry with all kinds of delicious snacks and lampshades with animals on them.

Now it’s too wrecked, too small, and too dark. There’s no food and nowhere they can sleep.

Gerard should have just let Mikey decide. He should have gone to Florida or fucking California because this place is just as cold as New Jersey or maybe even colder.

Maybe they can leave now and find a better place. Gerard isn’t even sure there’s a better place anywhere in the world but it can’t be much worse than here. He could drive them to California and camp out by the ocean.

There’s a knock on the window.

Gerard lifts his head up from the steering wheel and looks at Frank through the broken windshield.

He’s smiling like nothing’s wrong, like he’s not mad at Gerard for taking them to this shit hole. He knocks on the window once more and says, “Let me in.”

Gerard unlocks the passenger door and watches as Frank slides in next to him.

“Everything alright?” he asks, his hand resting on Gerard’s thigh. “You look like someone just insulted Batman.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” Frank squeezes Gerard’s knee and starts stroking him. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I shouldn’t have brought you into this. I should have left you in Jersey like you wanted to. You wouldn’t be hurt. You wouldn’t be forced to sleep in the backseat of a car.”

Frank shakes his head and shifts on his seat until he’s almost straddling the gearbox. “No. I wouldn’t be hurt. I would be dead. Gerard.” He lets go of Gerard’s knee and gives him a strange look, like he’s about to burst into tears. “You don’t get it, do you? I was ready to die. I didn’t care anymore. I was going to die alone in that house and you rescued me. You protected me. You saved my life twice.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes you did and I’m glad you did. You and Mikey, you’re all I’ve got. You’re my family. I love you,” he says as his voice breaks. He coughs, his lungs making a strange whistling sound as he inhales.

“And you’re like a brother to me,” Gerard says, patting his back. He loves Frank too. He loves him more than he ever loved anyone. He loves him so much more than he thought he loved Charlotte Euringer, the girl he had a crush on for two long years until she moved to stupid Pennsylvania.

Frank quirks an eyebrow at him. “Really? Wow. That’s awkward.”

“No. Not like. You’re not like a brother. You’re. I don’t.” Gerard is so screwed. He should learn to shut his mouth. It’s definitely not what he meant to say.

Frank laughs, breathy and smug. He is clearly an asshole whose only goal in life is to torture Gerard; only he’s not really an asshole and Gerard wants to kiss him right the fuck now before the moment passes. And so he does.

Although Gerard is not sure who kisses who first, probably because he leans in at the moment Frank licks his lips and leans in too. It seems like they had the same idea.

It’s just a peck at first, and then Frank grabs Gerard by the hips and Gerard takes a handful of Frank’s hair, and the kiss deepens.

It’s much better than he thought it would be even though he thought it would be pretty fantastic.

Their lips lock and then Gerard’s tongue darts out of his mouth and slides into Frank’s before he even thinks about what he’s doing.

Frank lets out a muffled moan but lets Gerard in, his lips opening and his tongue twisting around Gerard’s.

He doesn’t taste like fuel, not that Gerard knows what it tastes like. Frank tastes like tobacco and Ding Dongs; so good, so sweet. His skin is soft and cold under Gerard’s fingers. His hair smells like sweat and cheap hand soap. Gerard wants to get lost in him. He never wants to stop, never wants to let go of Frank.

When Frank pulls away, Gerard opens his eyes and he sees how heavy Frank’s eyelids look. His pupils are blown and his lips are red and shiny with spit. His hair is a mess too, like they did a lot more than just kissing.

Of course, Mikey is standing by the passenger door, looking pissed with his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping. Gerard doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there, watching them but by the way he’s glaring at Gerard, it’s probably been a while.

“Are you going to make out all day or are you going to give me a hand with the wood?” he asks, opening the door and sticking his head inside the car.

Frank snorts. “I’d rather help Gerard with his wood.”

“Oh my God.” Gerard wants to hide in the car forever and never go out. Frank is an obnoxious little asshole. Besides, he’s only half hard in his pants and doesn’t need any help.

“Help,” Mikey says, glaring at Gerard and judging him quietly. “Now.”

“Yeah. Sure. Help.” Gerard wipes Frank’s and his spit off his lips and stumbles out of the car. The windows are fogged up and his t-shirt is riding up his stomach. His belt is undone which is weird because he doesn’t remember that happening. Apparently, Frank’s fingers are stealthy.

He tucks his shirt back in and follows Mikey back to the house, moaning a little when Frank slips a hand in the back pocket of his jeans.


Frank can’t fucking get enough of Gerard. He thought kissing him would make it better, would calm him down or something, but it doesn’t help. It makes things even worse because as soon as they’re back inside the cabin, Frank wants to push Gerard in a corner and make out with him until he can’t breathe.

It’s like his skin is on fire, like he’s running a fever. He needs this so much it hurts.

There’s a major setback to his plan to get into Gerard’s pants though. Mikey is right there, going in and out of the cabin, and Gerard looks uneasy enough as it with Frank’s fingers stroking his ass as he builds a fire in the old fireplace.

“I think I’m getting sick,” Frank announces when Mikey walks out of the cabin again.

Gerard turns to him, frowning, looking alarmed. “Do you need to lie down?” he asks, putting his hand on Frank’s forehead. Gerard gingers are cold as ice, or maybe it’s Frank who is burning up. “I could walk you back to the car and you can sleep in there or I could fix some kind of bed for you in here.”

Frank shakes his head. “I’ll stay here.” He’s not feeling too great but it’s not that bad. He’s just tired and sore and his lungs are making that weird death rattle again which is never a good sign. But he’s been worse and a good night sleep is probably the only thing he needs right now.

Gerard pets Frank’s cheeks and then starts poking around his backpack for a blanket. He spreads it down on the floor and grimaces.

“In case you need to lie down,” Gerard says, rolling a pile of dirty clothes into a pillow. “It’s shit but the only mattress here is covered in dead spiders and bird crap and something gooey we shouldn’t touch in case it’s radioactive.”

“It’s totally radioactive,” Mikey calls as he comes in and drags a piss stained mattress out the door. “I’m turning into Spider Bird Man as we speak.”

Gerard smiles, leans in and plants a quick kiss on Frank’s lips. “I don’t want you to be sick again.”

“Me neither,” Frank replies with a whine. He sits down on the blanket and watches Gerard and Mikey move about the cabin for a little while, his eyelids growing heavier.

Mikey is very serious about fixing the hole on the roof. He doesn’t let Gerard in on his project because he says, “You’re gonna fuck up my chi. I know what I’m doing.”

Frank curls up in the blanket and shivers. He should probably do something, like maybe help Gerard clean up the place and throw moldy furniture out but as much as he wants to, he can’t move. He’s getting sick again. He can feel it now, how hard it is to draw a simple breath.

It’s probably the lack of sleep finally catching up to him that’s making things worse. He can’t get sick again. Not now. There’s no fucking way he’s getting fucking pneumonia after making it to their new home.

Frank fights sleep for a couple of hours. He’s aware Mikey is talking to him and he can feel Gerard touching him every once in a while but by the time they stop moving in and out of the cabin and settle for dinner, Frank accepts his defeat.

Maybe sleep will make him feel better.


They spend most of their first night huddled together on the floor.

It’s not the most comfortable set-up they’ve had since they ran away from Belleville. Also the car isn’t that far away, it has a large backseat and it’s a bit warmer than the cabin, but Frank looks too exhausted and too sick to move so they decide to stay put.

Gerard doesn’t get much sleep. He wakes up every once in a while and checks up on Frank and Mikey. He gets up and checks on the door too, making sure it holds in place. He paces around the cabin, lies back down next to Frank and then gets up again. He does this until dawn, watching as the sun, pale and round, rises behind a coat of white snow clouds.

He shivers and throws some more wood into the fire. He glances back at Frank and Mikey’s sleeping forms and gets up. He’s about to head back, and try and get a few more minutes of sleep, when he hears footsteps out on the porch.

He freezes and stares at the handle for the longest time. It doesn’t budge and the footsteps seem to be going away.

Someone’s out there and they’re coming to kill them. They’re probably going to kick the door down and all Gerard can do is stare at the fucking door like an idiot.

Gerard shakes himself off and starts searching for something sharp or heavy, a weapon, anything he could defend himself with in case of an attack. All he comes up with is an empty bottle. Now he kind of wishes they had kept the gun.

The footsteps get closer again, shuffle around for a bit and Gerard tip toes towards the door with his plastic bottle clasped in his clammy fingers.

The door opens and Gerard swings the plastic bottle at the intruder. It doesn’t do much damage and bounces off the guy’s chest. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Are you kidding me,” the guy says, grabbing Gerard’s wrist and squeezing it. “You were trying to hit me with a bottle of Mountain Dew?”

Everything stops; like someone hit the pause button on a remote. Gerard drops the bottle and blinks. He cannot believe what he’s seeing. Maybe sleep deprivation messed up with his brain and now he’s seeing things; things that cannot be real.

“You’re a very hard man to find,” Ray says as he walks in, he lets go of Gerard’s wrist and drops a heavy looking backpack on the floor. “Nice little dig you have going on here.”

Gerard’s jaw drops. Then, before he can think, he has his arms wrapped around Ray and they’re hugging.

“Ray,” he whispers, his throat closing. His eyes fill with tears and he chokes up. “Ray,” he repeats and Ray pats his back.

“I’m here, Gee. I’m here now.”

Gerard shuts his eyes and holds on to Ray tighter. This doesn’t feel real. Maybe he’s having one of these vivid dreams he sometimes gets. The only thing missing from the picture is the cute guy who used to sit next to him in digital art class. The cute guy riding a fucking unicorn.

“I got your message,” Ray says in a low, soothing voice. “Took me a while to remember where this place was.”

“How? I mean, did you?” Gerard has so many questions he doesn’t even know where to start. But for now, all he wants is to hug the shit out of his best friend.


Frank freaks out when he sees Gerard hugging someone he’s never seen before. He’s pretty sure it’s not Mikey because Mikey is here, lying next to Frank and puling all the blankets to himself like a selfish asshole.

For a second, Frank thinks some guy with too much hair is trying to choke Gerard by squeezing the shit out of him. He tries to get up so he can throw some punches; do something, save Gerard; but his legs don’t seem to want to move.

Then Gerard starts laughing which means there’s no real danger and he doesn’t need to be saved which is probably for the best.

They all slept here last night on the hard cold floor of the cabin. Frank’s brain is a bit fuzzy about everything but he manages to sit up and mumbles a quiet, “Who’s that?” He coughs and doubles over as he tries to catch his next breath. This is going to be fucking hell all over again; he can feel it in his lungs.

The tall guy with the big frizzy hair lets go of Gerard and grins at Frank.

“I’m Ray,” he says, walking up to him, a huge grin on his face.

“That’s Frank,” Gerard says as he rushes over to Frank and kneels down in front of him. He feels his forehead, grimaces and turns over to Ray. “He’s been with us since Belleville. He went to our school.”

Then Gerard stares into Frank’s eyes and whispers, “You need to lie down. You’re very hot today.”

Frank nods and it feels like his brain is about to leak out of his ears. “You look very hot too. Thank you very much,” he mumbles as his head hits the floor.

Mikey groans and throws his corner of the blanket on Frank.

“Why are you so fucking loud so early in the morning,” he grumbles, rolling over Frank and pressing his stupid bony elbows into Frank’s side. “It’s not like I have to go to school today.”

Frank pushes him away with what’s left of his strength. He’s fucking sore all over and he doesn’t need Mikey climbing over him like that in front of strangers. Besides, he’s too hot to cuddle right now.

“Breakfast?” Gerard asks no one in particular and Frank curls back up under the blanket. Eating is pretty much the last thing he wants to be doing right now.

He shuts his eyes and listens. There’s a lot of scuffling around and conversations in hushed tones about Frank and how sick he looks.

Then Frank drifts off and wakes up just as Ray is saying, “—had to avoid any big city after that. It hasn’t been easy but I’m glad I still had my phone with me.”

“I’m glad you had it too,” Gerard whispers.

“Seems like it was the Fluzemil,” Ray announces and Frank isn’t sure what he means. “That’s what I heard from the guy I hung out with back in Jersey. He said he didn’t get the shot and since none of us did—”

“You think the vaccine did that to people? That it turned them into psychopaths?” Mikey asks, his voice suddenly a bit louder and Frank’s fuzzy brain manages to piece most of what Ray’s saying together.

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