Learning to Communicate

[AN: Well gang, here's the last official chapter. It was my goal to wrap this story in ten chapters or less, and I did. Please R&R , as always.]

Chapter 9- Bruises

I didn't know what to do. Did I continue looking for Frank, or go to the hospital with Mike and Anna? I had always wanted to be there when my nephew was born. Or my neice. I wanted to know what it was going to be! On the other hand, I couldn't just put Frankie on hold. Every second that passed, he could be getting further and further from home. Grace was watching me from the passenger seat. We were idling at a red light.

"Gerard," she said. "Let's go to the shelter he came from. If he's not there, we can at least tell them he's missing. They can even call the other shelter. Someone can call you if they find him, and you can go with your brother."

I looked over. "Yeah," I agreed quietly. Again, I was glad to have someone outside of the situation telling me what to do. I changed lanes, taking the way back to the shelter that I had memorized by the time I had adopted Frank. I guess this was the time to try and tell Dr. Grace about his talking again.

"I have to tell you something," I said.

"Yes?" she said, looking over again. Hopefully, no one was going to call me this time.

"Frank. Frank....talked." I looked over at her to see her face. She frowned. "What do you mean? Talked?" she asked, leaning towards me and away from the window.

"He talked when we were at my brother's house once. He was kind of repeating what we said, but I didn't think they could talk in the first place," I said, remembering what I had been told at the shelter.

Grace ran her fingers along her forehead, staring out the windsheild. "That's amazing," she said after a moment. "No, Sub-Humans aren't smart enough to say anything on their own. At least, no one thought they were. I never thought he would talk to you."

"Well, it's not like he did it constantly. It was once, one sentence."

"What did he say?"

"Uh, 'Mikey faked it'." I shifted a little in my seat. "Mikey's my brother," I said shortly, hoping to quell any questions as to the meaning of it. Luckily, she said nothing, just absorbed the fact I suppose. I took a turn, heading down through the wooded area that hid the shelter from the road. It was standing there like always, a few pens around the outside. The staff seemed to have doubled though. They were everywhere, keeping a close eye on every Sub-Human that was outside. A few came over to the fence as my car pulled up. I recognized one. A mouse girl with long brown hair. Next to her, there was a younger looking girl. She had round black ears and dark colourization on the skin around her eyes. I realized she must have been mixed with panda DNA. She smiled as we walked past. She looked no more than a seven year old. For the first time, I smiled back. This place didn't creep me out anymore, nor did it make me sad.

Dr. Grace opened the door and I followed her inside. The same woman was sitting at the front desk. Marla, I remembered. She looked up. "Hello?" she said, giving me a look. I realized that it had been almost half a year since I had been here. Had I really lived with Frank so long?

"I'm Gerard Way," I said, unsure of myself. "I adopted here some time ago. He was a fox-boy?" I asked, wondering if she would remember. She said nothing, so I continued. "This morning he turned up missing, and I just wanted to know if someone had found him and brought him back here. Or maybe he just, you know, came back." Dr. Grace was looking through the door. Two guys that looked our own age were wrestling about in the yard, but I couldn't tell what they were.

"No, I'm sorry, nothing has come into us for a few days," said Marla, thinking. Her eyebrows raised and her eyes squinted at the ceiling. "No, I'm pretty positive nothing is here like that."

Grace finally turned. "What about the shelter across town?" she asked.

"Oh, my, the shelter across town? It doesn't exsist anymore. They had to shut it down. All the animals were sent over here."

"Why was it shut down?" asked Grace.

Marla shook her head sadly. "It was constantly being broke into by those damn activists, setting them free and whatnot."

I closed my eyes. I had been relying on the fact that Frank would be here, safe and happy to see me again. He was still out there. Dr. Grace put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said. It wasn't her fault, she didn't have to be sorry, but I nodded anyway. She looked at Marla again and took out one of her cards. "Please, if anything comes in, call my cell. We're looking for a Sub-Human registered under the name Francis Way," she said, pulling some of his papers from her bag. "He's approximately five feet and four inches tall, I would guess, looks about twenty three. He's crossbred with red fox." Marla nodded, taking this down.

"Lemme go post this on the bulletin back there. If someone brings him in, they'll see him missing," she said, opening the door and letting it slam behind her. She dissapeared back where the rows of cages were.

"Let's go Gerard," said Dr. Grace. "That's about all we can do for now."

I followed her back outside. As I was getting my keys, my cell phone rang again. I knew it was Mikey before I answered. "Hello?"

"Gerard? Where are you?" he asked. His voice echoed a little.

"I went back to the shelter Frankie came from, but no luck," I said, getting in and pulling my seatbelt across my chest.

"Oh, I'm really sorry," he said. "We're already here. Um, listen, I know you want to be here, but don't feel like you have to. Keep looking. Besides." He lowered his voice. "The doctor said this could take hours." Someone started cussing in the background.

"Mother fuckin'...Ahh!"

"Gotta go!" Click. I suppose that's what contraction sounded like.

I started the car and drove out back to the main road. Grace was still sitting quietly. "We need a new plan," I said at last.

"Let's go back around your neighborhood and ask around," she said. "It's what people have done for missing pets for years."

Once again, she was right, and I agreed.

..::||~*~||::..

"Have you seen this guy by any chance?" I asked. I was holding out a photograph of Frankie to the manager of a grocery store. He shook his head, peering at the image of big, brown eyes peering back at him. "Well, thanks anyway," I said for what seemed like the hundredth time. Grace and I had split up, each taking a photo of Frank with us. We were working on foot now, walking through strip centers and asking anyone and everyone if they had seen Frank.

I walked out of the store. Grace was already waiting for me, without a hopeful look, I might add. I shook my head. We crossed the street together and split up once more to do the same. I had just about reached the end of the parking lot when a group of young men pulled up in a truck, parking at a liquor store. It took me a few seconds, but it couldn't hurt to ask. I didn't really want to talk to any of them truthfully.

"Hey?" I asked, approaching one just as he got to the door. They looked like college students, but they were all bigger than me. And probably stronger, faster, and generally better looking to the general public. This were always the kind of people I had been afraid of. I hated talking to them. He looked over. "Huh?"

"Have you seen this man?" I asked quickly, thrusting the picture out at him. He took it, studying it for a second before hollering "Hey, lookit this dudes!" He flourished the picture to his friends, and they started laughing. He turned back to me.

"Yeah we saw him! Last night. He came around my girlfriend's property and we chased him down."

"Hah, yeah, I got a bottle right at his head, whoosh!" said another, miming throwing something.

I stood there, frozen in my own horror. What had they done to him? "Yeah, we got him, but he eventually got away from us," said the first guy, shrugging and handing me the picture back.

"But not before we showed him he certainly wasn't wanted," said another.

Before I had half of my thought in my head, I had grabbed the first guy by the front of the shirt and used all my weight to push him against the front of his truck. "You think you can just go pushing people around because they're different? He has fuckin' feelings too you know!" I shouted at him. He twisted to get away from me, but I wasn't ready to let go. Using my worst judgement possible, I kneed his groin into the truck as well. "Tell me where the fuck he went!" I yelled. That was pretty much the last thing I felt, other than someone's fist to my head and my jaw to the pavement.

..::||~*~||::..

Jocks. The natural enemy of fat kids. Well, jocks and staircases.

I opened my eyes, a horrible taste filling my mouth. I rolled over on the pavement and puked. Mostly blood. All I could do was lie there and stupidly groan. Why had I done that? I wasn't even thinking. How long had I been out down here? My eyes finally focused. Not long, was my guess, because the light still looked the same. My answer came along pretty soon though.

"Gerard? Oh my lord!" Dr. Grace hit her knees right next to me before I realized it, her hand coming around and moving my face so she could take a look at it. She grimaced. I could already feel where I had my bruises. "Forget your family, you look like you need the hospital," she said. "What happened?"

I shook my head, and another wave of neausea threatened to come up on me. I took a deep breath instead, and with Grace's help, sat up slowly. "Some guys," I said in a lame explaination. Frankie's photograph was a few inches away. I picked it up, looking down at his pretty face. I failed you, I thought to myself. I had the chance to find you and I let my emtions get in the way. I was never going to find out where he had been now. I flipped over the picture in my hands.

"Hey!" both of us said at once. There was something scribbled across the back.

I'm sorry for what my friends did to you. I saw from the truck.

The truck? The truck. What was in the truck? I closed my eyes, remembering. A young woman had been sitting in the truck. I continued reading.

Your friend was in East Brooke last night, going down Saddle St. & Pine Tree Ln. Good luck.

I breathed out. I looked up at Grace. She took the photo and reread the scribbles herself. She looked back at me. "Well?"

"Well. Let's not waste any time."

..::||~*~||::..

After struggling to my feet and argueing about who should drive, I finally submitted to sitting in the passenger seat and giving Dr. Grace the keys. I rested against the seat, my eyes half closed. I stared out the window as Grace made her way towards the East Brooke suburb. The only reason I knew of it was because my brother had considered buying a house there. It was still being built for the most part. Empty skeletons of houses began to come into view. Across the street, perfectly normal, lived in houses sat in a row. The contrast between the bare lots and the manicured lawns made me feel like I was staring at a smybolic painting back in art school, or that the whole thing should have been captured in a black and white photograph and hung on the wall.

"What did the back of the picture say again?" Dr. Grace asked, hesitating at a cross street.

"Saddle Street and Pine Tree Lane," I said, glacing at it in my hand.

She huffed a little. "Now, just finding that will be a...."

"There." I pointed. Saddle Street was the next one over. She huffed again, though I was pretty sure it was for a different reason. I smiled slightly to myself, though it kind of hurt. I flipped down the visor to look at myself. There was a bruise along my jaw where I had hit the ground, and around my left eye, the delicate purple shading coming up along my eyebrow and down to my cheek. I touched it and winced. It hurt much worse than it looked so far. I was sure it would be getting darker though, and swelling because I hadn't had the chance to put something on it.

We had turned down Saddle Street and were looking for Pine Tree. I sunk down in my seat a little as we passed a house with a very familiar truck. Luckily, it was on the corner we needed. "Now which way do we go?" I asked. Dr. Grace shook her head. I sighed. "How about you take the car down that side and I'll just walk down this direction?" I asked.

"Are you sure you want to walk?"

"I can handle it," I said. I got out before she could argue further. "Call my phone," I said as a last thing, knowing she knew what I meant anyway. If she saw him. She turned, and I skirted the house with truck. No need to look around there after all....

Pine Tree Lane was ghostly and full of empty lots and half formed new houses. Construction material lay everywhere. Trash seemed to be blowing along the street freely, sometimes stalling around empty sand bags or bright orange road cones. Nothing but wooden beams to hold up the shape of the future homes. No protection from the weather. Was Frank somewhere down here? Frank wanted to be with people, why would he run away to a gross, dirty construction site? I was just about to turn back around when I saw the very last house on the row. It had grey brick all around it, but no knobs on the doors or grass on it's lot.

Before Frank had come to the shelter, he had been found in an abandoned house. I remembered. A half finished house wasn't abandoned, but it would serve as well. I walked faster, my feet kicking nails and bits of wood sometimes if I wasn't watching. I reached for the door at the end of the walk, pushing it open. There was perfect hole in the wood where a lock would be installed eventually. The floors was still bare concrete, and the walls were a nothing but insulation still.

Crunch. I looked down. Something gold was under my foot. I picked it up. Gold foil. I read the label. Reese's. Bingo.

"Frankie?!" I called, balling the candy wrapper up in my palm. I searched the bare living room and kitchen, looking in all of the cabinets in case. Findin nothing, I headed straight down the hallway. Picked up another candy wrapper inside one of the bare rooms. I checked them all, each bathroom, and came up short every time. I finally pushed open the last door, only to have my heart sink. It was just as empty as they all had been. I looked at the wrappers in my hand. Frank had been here, but he wasn't anymore. I turned to go.

Choo.

I whirled around. The room was wheezing at me. "Frank? I asked. I walked in, headed for the closet. I opened the door. It was empty inside. I stared at the far wall of it. There was a square cut into the wall, where I could only assume a vent or something would be going. I got down on my hands and knees and peered inside. Wow. It was a hidden place, small and perfect for the inhabit. He was huddled in the corner, his knees to his chest and glaring at me from over his arms.

"Frank," I said, crawling in, or least attempting to. He turned himself towards the wall, ignoring me. "You can't pretend you're not there, I see you!" I said, wiggling my hips. I gave up. Stupid skinny Sub-Human. I just had to convince him to come out anyway. I reached out as far as I could. He moved his feet an inch out of my grasp. I could see he was still mad at me.

"Frankie, I'm sorry, but you have to come out," I said. "Come home. You can't stay here in this house. Someone's going to move into it eventually. Or seal you up in this wall." Why was I talking about this? This wasn't what I wanted to say. This wasn't communication. This was rationalization and making up excuses to avoid saying what I wanted. So this was what everyone saw in me after all. I never said what I was feeling when I needed to.

"Frankie, come home. I'm sorry I yelled at you, I didn't mean it," I tried. He didn't move. "Please," I said, feeling my voice waver a little. "You have to come home. I...I miss you. I want you to live with me because my life without you sucks. I'm so boring, and, well, and no one looks at me like you do because to everyone else, I'm a loser. You don't even know how judge someone."

He stirred, looking over his shoulder. "Oh baby...." I sighed. There was a cut across his forehead, and dried blood smeared across his face. His eye was as purple as mine, and starting to swell shut. I reached out again. My fingers curled around the hem of his pants. "I'm so sorry. Come home with me. Home, you know? We can get clean, and watch TV, and eat more chocolate peanut butter cups together. Just us. I promise I would never let someone hurt you there. Never."

I gently tugged on his pants and his leg slid towards me. I grabbed his ankle and continued pulling him towards myself. He slid along the floor, watching my hands crawl up his pants and pull him closer and closer. Talk about being stubborn. I layed my head on his knee. "Frankie, I missed you so much. I thought all these terrible things and I just....I care about you so much...."

His hands placed themselves on my face, touching the places where it was tender from getting hit. He brushed my bangs back from my forehead. I winced a little.

"Gerard. I love you."

His stuttering, broken English was the best sound I had ever heard in my whole life.