A/N I do not own Gerard, Mikey, Frank and Ray, although I would like to
Ray's POV
When I opened my eyes, I peered up to see Mikey still fast asleep with his head resting over the back of the sofa. I giggled at the sight, and rose to my feet. Walking to the kitchen, I tried the door to get the post, but it was locked. I didn't think much of it; I just sauntered to the kettle and began to make some coffee. The warm drink felt angelic as it trickled down my dry throat.
I glided quietly to the living room, where I sat down in the antique armchair and turned on Star Wars. The previous night, we'd been watching it, but we fell asleep before we could witness the sad ending. It was only at the end of the film that I noticed something; Frank and Gerard weren't here. They'd slept in the same spot I was now sat in. I wondered where they'd gone, but I just pushed the thought to the back of my mind before I got too worried.
The house seemed deadly quiet as I switched off the TV. Mikey let out a large exhale of breath in his slumber, and turned over. The only entertainment I had now was watching him sleep. Although after 5 minutes, I was bored again, so I decided to explore upstairs, where I found a polished electric guitar that almost looked brand new. My eyes peered down to the bottom, and I saw silver letters that spelt out the word 'Pansy'.
Frank had told us all about his guitar on the way home, and about how his guitar skills and Gerard's vocals make a great combination. I'd briefly mentioned how I played guitar too, and Mikey commented on his bass guitar.
"Well, all we need now is a drummer" Frank had said jokingly, and we all laughed. He had a point though, and I had a feeling that we would soon discover our musical talents put together made an excellent sound to listen to.
My hands slid along the neck of the Gibson Les Paul as I slowly placed it on my lap. I thought back to a song I'd been working on, and began playing the intro, whilst whispering some lyrics I'd put with it.
"I've got a bulletproof heart; you've got a hollow point smile..." My performance trailed off to a stop, and as I let the final chord ring, I heard clapping from behind me, and a sniff, as if someone was crying...
I turned my head to see who had been observing while I strummed the beautiful guitar, praying to God it wasn't Frank; he'd kill me. Luckily, it was Mikey. He had tears in his eyes, which were smudging his eye liner, but he was smiling.
"That was beautiful, Ray" he ran up to me as I placed Pansy back on her stand and wrapped his arms around my neck. At least someone appreciated my music, which is more than I can say about my whore of a mother.
Gerard's POV
Oh shit. This was bad. Oh holy fuck! Running, just keep on running. There was no time for stopping, or even for thinking. I just wanted to keep on running, and that's what I did, I just ran. Frank's house, I could get help there. Mikey knows first aid, he could fix Frank's ankle. No, he needed a professional. Balls to it! I ran as fast as I could to Frank's home, passing my own on the way. I hadn't even noticed the tears until my vision started to blur, but I could worry about that when I was inside.
I burst through the door, almost knocking the door off its hinges.
"MIKEY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?" I screamed into the empty living room. My feet banged loudly on the stairs as I pelted to Frank's bedroom. My brother and his partner stood in the center of the room, staring at the door.
"Come with me, I'll explain on the way" I cried as I said this, but set off to the woods, closely followed by Ray and Mikey.
I was walking faster and faster, down back alleys and forgotten trails, with the two younger ones lagging behind, panting for breath. I'd said I would explain, but I hadn't said a word for the whole 20 minute journey. Finally, I arrived at the top of the steep slope, peering over the edge. It was a good 45 seconds before anyone joined me by my side. Eventually, we were all at the slope, and staring into the nettles, but there was no Frank...
Mikey and Ray stood over me, watching as I lay curled on the ground, crying over my missing Frank. Where the fuck was he? Disgusting thoughts crept their way into my mind. What if he was dead and his body had been dragged away by some wild animal. Or maybe some sick minded bastard had kidnapped him! Oh god! Oh please, god, no! More tears came flooding down my face; I couldn't bare the thought of a life without Frank Iero; my Frank Iero.
