Title: Isolation and Tortue [Standalone]
Pairing: Frank/Gerard if you turn your head to the side and squint your eyes
Summary: I'll keep it short and bitter: Car accident
Warnings: Language, character death, implied drug and alcohol abuse, possible tear-jerker
Disclaimer: I only own this story, though the characters are based on real people.
Author Notes: This is a standalone. I will not lengthen it because that usually destroys stories. Trust me, I tried.
Word Count: 279
Isolation and tortue. There's no difference. Not a fine line between the two because there isn't a line at all. There never has been.
A person can only listen to their own thoughts for so long before it kills them. Before their own sanity flees, desperate for company. And then they're gone, never the same. Never alive like before. Never anything like before.
Regrets are the main killer. Scenarios repeat themselves, until you decide the choice you'd made was the worst, dismissing any logic that states otherwise. I know this. I fucking know this.
If I'd just stopped him sooner…If I'd just noticed he needed to be stopped, then things would be fine. He'd be fine. Both of them. All of us. Alive. Sane. Just like before.
But it's never going to happen. Things will never be like before. Never. We'll never joke around like before. We'll never be close like before. We'll never be anything like before.
He's falling. He has been for a while now but gravity is growing stronger. He's racing towards the ground, hoping to end it all on impact. Or maybe not. Maybe he wants to suffer. Thinks he deserves to suffer. He doesn't. None of us do. But we did. We are.
I think about it constantly. We all do, I'm sure. You can't escape it.
I can see it, hear it, taste it, smell it, feel it. I can live it. I did. We did.
Flashing lights. Tires squealing. Screams. Blood. Burning rubber. Burning flesh. Heat. Pain. Blackout. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!
But he doesn't.
"Bassist killed in car accident. Victim's brother held responsible. Full story on page 3A"