I know, this one is weird. I wanted to get right into it...I can't stand stories that have a "forever" set up. Hopefully this story will keep your interests! Be aware of the rating. As most of you know, I like to have at least ONE smutty chap in my stories!

Nico

Night was particularly jarring in the mental hospital. Gerard barely slept, preferring instead to walk the expansive grounds of the hospital. He was considered a "low risk" patient, having no other discernable issues besides his identity crisis, as the professionals had labeled it. Therefore, he had complete access to every nook of the hospital, including the pristinely manicured greens the old hospital gardeners painstakingly tended to.

He lit his umpteenth cigarette and flicked the match he had struck against his belt across the large pond outside of the hospital.

It was so deadly silent outside, he could hear the hiss of the hot sulfur as it hit the water.

For as long as he could remember, he had been cast in the role of a miscreant, never quite fitting in with others close to his age. He always felt older than he was…and sadder than he should be. It was as if he had been born incomplete; instead of feeling whole, even in his happiest of moments, there was something missing.

He propped his feet up on the metal chair across from the one he was sitting on. The moon above shone down upon him, illuminating his already snowy skin with an almost iridescent glow.

Suddenly, a rapidly moving figure caught his eye. At first, whatever was running across the field in the distance appeared to be a ghost. White material streamed out behind the figure as it ran, pumping its legs furiously.

Moments after the figure disappeared between a large maze of hedges and bushes, two orderlies appeared, in hot pursuit. One, a heavy-set man Gerard had come to know only as "Butch," leaned dramatically against his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Gerard chuckled, causing both men to snap to attention.

"Ah, it's only Gerard," Butch said, still panting.

"Evening Butch," Gerard replied, standing to face the man.

"Workin' on any new songs?" Butch asked, his cockney accent almost painful to Gerard's ears.

"Nah," Gerard replied, flipping dark hair from his eyes. "Been toobusy being crazy."

Butch laughed. "Yer not crazy," he informed Gerard. "Yer just an eccentric musician."

"I'll let the doctors know your diagnosis," Gerard replied.

"Butch, come on! Quit your yapping! She's getting away!" The other orderly trotted over to where Butch and Gerard stood.

"Hello Martin," Gerard greeted him cordially. "One get away from you?"

"It's just the Browne girl again," Martin sighed. "I don't know why we even bother chasing her anymore; she's always back by morning."

"So why not let her be?" Gerard asked.

"She ain't right in the head," Butch replied, then blushed. "Sorry mate."

"No offense taken, Butch." Gerard replied.

"And she doesn't have the same liberties as you," Martin added. "She's not allowed to leave the building unsupervised."

"Why not?"

"You know we can't discuss that with you, Gerard." Martin replied.

Gerard scowled into the darkness, hating the feeling of being less than equal to the orderlies.

"Well she's long gone now," Butch declared. "Let's go, Martin. She'll be back."

Martin sighed. "Well, I'm not about to scour the countryside in the middle of the night," he said. "Let's go; we'll let the doctor on call know and he can decide what he wants to do from here." He looked to Gerard. "Goodnight," he said.

Gerard nodded.

"Hey, maybe you could finish teaching me that song tomorrow," Butch said enthusiastically. "I fixed the guitar strings."

"Sounds good," Gerard replied, lighting another cigarette.

He watched as Butch awkwardly waved and moved away, hurrying to catch up to the much more in shape Martin.

Gerard imagined that Butch would be playing catch up for most of his life.

Not that he himselfwas in quite the situation to cast such dispersions.

He turned back around, ready to sit back down.

A girl was in his seat, her thin legs propped up as his had been.

"So you're the rock star everyone's been talking about," she said, staring up at him through liquid green eyes. "Got a smoke?" She asked, without letting him reply.

Gerard pulled a cigarette from his pack and tossed it to her. The girl lit it with lightning speed, inhaling deeply.

"You know, people were looking for you." Gerard said.

"They're always looking for me," she replied.

"Won't you get in trouble?" He asked.

"What else could they possibly do to me?" She countered.

"Good point."

"I'm Rae," she said, sticking out her hand for him to shake.

"Gerard," he said, grasping her hand, slightly shocked at how cold she was.

"I know," she replied, pulling her hand from his clutch.

"Why are you running away?" Gerard asked.

Rae leaned back in the chair, adjusting the thin white skirts she wore. "I'm not."

"Really?" Gerard said. "That's not what it looks like."

Rae rolled her eyes. "I just can't sit in my room all the time. It's boring."

"Why aren't you allowed out of the building?" Gerard asked.

"Because they don't trust me." Rae replied.

"Why are you here?" He asked boldly.

"Why are you?" Rae countered.

"Because I think I'm someone I'm not." He replied.

Rae narrowed her eyes. "Are you making fun of me?"

Gerard looked down at her. "What?"

Rae stood up. "You're making fun of me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You pretend like you don't know what I'm here for and then you say you're here for the same thing?" Rae asked, sounding hurt.

"You think you're someone else?" Gerard asked, intrigued.

Rae clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Don't play stupid," she told him.

Gerard regarded the girl before him. She was younger than his 28 years, but not by much. She wore all white, which made her look more frail than she really was. Streams of curly red andblonde hair stuck up from her head and tumbled down her back. Freckles spattered her nose and cheeks.

She was very pretty, Gerard realized.

"Look," he began carefully. "I had no idea that that was the reason you were here. It just so happens that I am here for the same reason. If nothing else, you should take solace in the fact that our ailments are not as uncommon as everyone would have us believe."

Rae stared at the Gerard, obviously contemplating trusting him.

"So who do you think you are?" Rae asked against her better judgment.

"No one you would know," he replied quietly.

"Try me," she challenged.

Gerard sighed. What harm could telling a fellow patient do? Besides…wasn't that part of his therapy? To open up and conquer his demons?

"I am a reclusive composer who lived in the depths of the Paris Opera House more than a hundred years ago," he said quickly. "Top that."

Rae's face when completely white.

And then, she passed out.