Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6690862.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      My_Chemical_Romance
  Relationship:
      Frank_Iero/Gerard_Way
  Character:
      Frank_Iero, Gerard_Way, Mikey_Way, Brendon_Urie, Pete_Wentz, Patrick
      Stump, Josh_Dun, Tyler_Joseph, Bert_McCracken
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, trigger_warning, times_a_billion, this
      is_very_violent, Abuse, Physical_Abuse, Emotional_Abuse, Manipulation,
      Beating, Cutting, these_are_understatements, Bloodplay, Dom/sub, Angst,
      Anal_Sex, JUST, don't_read_this_if_you_are_triggered_by_any_sort_of
      violence, Bloodlust, Hide_and_Seek_and_Bring_This_Kid_Within_an_Inch_of
      His_Life, Sadism, Lots_of_it, Masochism, not_as_much_but_it's_still
      there, probably_unrealistic_amounts_of_blood_loss_tbh, A_lot_of_things
      are_unrealistic_now_that_i_think_about_it, Fanfiction, Minor_Character
      Death, All_characters_besides_Frnk_and_Gee_are_mentioned_once_or_twice
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-29 Chapters: 1/4 Words: 3776
****** Teenagers ******
by sevendeadlylynns
Summary
     “This is where it gets fun. You know teenagers, right? Always looking
     for trouble, always wanting to get in a fight? You don’t? Well.
     That’ll change soon enough. Being here makes a lot of kids feel
     frustrated, like they’re trapped and they’re never going to go
     anywhere. Of course, the day after graduation, hell if you can find
     any of them. But a lot of kids here feel helpless, like they want
     someone to pay for their misfortunes, either by doing it themselves
     or knowing someone else is doing it for them. Are you following me so
     far?”
Notes
     Okay so I told myself I wasn't going to start anything else until I
     had a solid five chapters in on my other two, but this is what
     happened instead. Why challenge fate? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
     Work and chapter titles from the song "Teenagers" by My Chemical
     Romance (RIP)
He didn’t want to be here.
And not in the usual teen angst, tumblr aesthetic, “Now That’s What I Call
Edgy™” way, but like. He  really  didn’t want to be here.
Looking up at the building that he’d already determined to be his own personal
hell, Frank wondered if maybe his mom wouldn’t notice if he simply skipped
school. Every day. For the next three years. Hell, he wondered if any of the
administration would notice. This was the single most godforsaken building he
had ever laid eyes upon, and he hadn’t even been inside yet.
Why had his dad’s job relocated right after freshman year? He’d lived in
Monroeville place his entire life - he had friends and a routine and a  life.
Not anymore. Despite all of his threats and his begging and his tears,
everything he knew had been uprooted and roughly thrown… Here. Belleville.
A steady stream of students trickled around him. Frank eyed them warily. It
seemed that, population-wise, they were divided almost in half: groups and
loners. The loners stared at the ground, listening to music and otherwise
trying to ignore the rest of the world, and seemed to be a variety of ages. The
kids in groups were either underclassmen or what appeared to be seniors. The
younger groups looked… Frightened. There was really no better word for it.
Again, not the typical “oh my god it’s high school” kind of frightened; they
huddled together in a manner reminiscent of sheep surrounded by wolves. Frank
idly wondered if he should join them.
Then his gaze wandered to one of the groups of older teens. He hadn’t really
been paying much attention to the specific activities of anyone, too lost in
his own pity party to care. The pack ( really? Again with the animal
metaphors?)  was hanging around some random spot on a wall. They looked mean,
tough.
Maybe it was what most of them were wearing - black jeans, leather jackets,
combat boots: typical punk gear. Now that he thought about it, everyone at this
school was wearing black or some other dark color. Frank immediately felt out
of place in his Chucks, faded blue jeans, and some random Green Day t-shirt
that was at the top of the moving box.
Maybe it was the cigarette that dangled from the fingers of more than half of
them. Not that there was anything  wrong  with smoking - Frank did it himself
from time to time - but there was something about the way they handled the
little white sticks that made his blood run cold.
Maybe it was the fact that one of them - the one with long black hair - was
sharpening a knife.
Wait,  what?  On  campus?
As if on cue, that particular senior looked up, directly at Frank. The younger
boy felt like he had been caught looking at something he wasn’t supposed to,
but couldn’t look away - it was like a train wreck. The older one broke the
gaze to look Frank up and down, then re-established eye contact and flashed him
a wicked smile.  Shit.  Then, just as fast, he dropped his eyes and said
something to one of his friends, causing the whole group to laugh. Frank
notices that the boy who had looked at him was leaning against the wall while
all the others were standing around him. Normally, it would look like they were
all ganging up on him, but he was in control. Even Frank could see that. It was
in the way he gestured, how everyone talked to him rather than each other, and
his general air of confidence that radiated off of him. How would people  not
want to follow him?
And he had already singled Frank out. God  damn  it, he hadn’t even stepped
inside the school and he was already fucked.
Frank ducked his head, planning on not making eye contact with anyone else for…
Well, for the rest of his time here. He followed the other students into what
appeared to be a gymnasium, where most of the people were heading towards a
wall with papers taped to it. Homeroom assignments? Yeah, that was it.
When he arrived, he scrunched his eyes up, looking for his name. Someone named
Mr. Urie.  Well,  he thought,  at least I’m not the  only  one in that class
with a weird last name.  He left, no desire to hang around this place, and
began to look for room 17. He found it easily enough, and when he went inside,
it was empty except for one other person. It wasn’t even the teacher - it was a
student, sitting almost in the middle of class. He looked up as Frank entered,
then an expression that couldn’t be placed flashed across his face.
“Hey,” the boy said, which was a surprise.
“Hi,” Frank replied. “I’m Frank. I’m new.”
“Mikey,” he said in return. He glanced nervously towards the door. “Look, I’m
one of the few nice people in the school, but it would be better if we weren’t
seen talking. For your own good. But there are some… Things, I guess, that you
need to be made aware of that are common knowledge here. Most people wouldn’t
tell you in advance, but like I said, I’m nice. Not that it’ll make any
difference in what happens, but I think some preparation is always nice. If
you’re up for it, meet me by the gym after school. If you’re not there by 4:15,
I’ll get the hint.”
In any other place, Frank would have labeled that as the aforementioned “Now
That’s What I Call Edgy™”-type advice, but here, he found himself nodding as he
made his way to the very last row. The rest of the seats filled in one by one,
but the room remained as silent as it had been before.
The very last person in was the teacher, who looked as tired as all of the
students. After closing the door behind him, he maintained eye contact with the
floor all the way to his desk, where he only looked up to unlock his computer.
He called roll quickly, then finally stood up to look at his students. His eyes
were filled with something that could only be described as pity before he
sighed and picked up a stack of papers on his desk.
“Good morning, class, and welcome to the start of your sophomore year at
Belleville High School. My name is Mr. Urie, and you will start off your day
here before continuing on to your classes. I am going to hand out some forms
that your parents should sign, your schedules, and a list of all the coaches,
in case you’re interested in any sports.”
He didn’t say anything else as he passed out the papers. He didn’t say anything
else at all, actually, for the rest of the hour. Frank looked at the board and
saw that homeroom was usually only twenty minutes. He figured that the school
was giving the teachers time to explain more things - and maybe some were - but
Mr. Urie didn’t feel the need to put in any more effort. Not that the students
would have payed attention.
Frank looked at his schedule. History, AP English back in Mr. Urie’s (did the
teacher even know what AP  was?  Frank thought not), Chemistry, Gym, Art,
Lunch, Health,  Algebra II, and Music. Nice.
Well. Nothing else to do now. Frank took out the notebook he had brought with
him, opened it to a blank page, and started doodling. Nothing extravagant, just
eyes and hands and vampires. The usual. His mindless task allowed his brain to
wander back to the kind-of conversation with Mikey. He had so many questions:
for one, what the  fuck  was going on here? And what was so bad about being
seen with him? Mikey hadn’t said anything about talking in general; he had
singled himself out. Frank didn’t know what to do with that information. And
third, what the hell did he need to prepare for? This was  really  causing him
stress, and honestly, he didn’t know if he appreciated the warning. Maybe this
was a scare tactic for newbies. After all, no one else seemed like they were
trying to give any sort of warning to Frank.
Whatever. Fifteen minutes until the bell.
 
The day dragged on and on and on. Frank hoped it wasn’t always like this; he
didn’t think he could stand this without any music and resolved to buy an extra
pair of earbuds to keep in his backpack. Really, it was almost eerie how half
the kids didn’t say a word. In his old school, there were one or two that sat
in the back of the class and kept to themselves; here, it was like everyone
aspired to be that person. The only people he had seen talking and laughing
were juniors and seniors, and his first four classes were all sophomore
classes. Silence the entire time. Now, he wasn’t one for carrying on a
conversation that lasted three hours, but he did want to get to know someone
here. Just so he’d have something to tell his mom, at the very least.
He quickly learned not to attempt conversation with anyone, either, if he was
expecting something more than a cold stare and a three word response. After two
tries, he too adopted the sullen look shared by everyone and stared at his desk
during class.
Finally, he got to Art. Maybe in this class, there’d be something to take his
mind off of his situation. Art was one of the few things he actually looked
forward to. Music, of course, being the other one, but that was at the end of
the day. It seemed as though he’d be proven wrong, though, as he walked in and
saw the students at their tables. This was  supposed  to be a mixed level
class. Maybe he’d thought wrong. He chose an empty table near the window to sit
at as he waited for class to begin.
Two people came in, upperclassmen. They were talking, and it almost sounded
inhuman after the lack of it all day. One had a shock of aqua hair on the top
of his head, the other had something a bit longer than a buzz cut that looked
like he had done it himself. They made a beeline for the last empty table, the
one right next to where Frank was sitting. He looked down as they sat. After a
few seconds, the one that didn’t have the colored hair turned to him.
“Hey.”
Frank looked up, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how things worked
around here, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to break any more unspoken rules.
“Haven’t seen you around before. I’m Tyler, this is Josh. We’re juniors. You a
freshman?”
After a second of consideration, Frank decided that it was okay to answer a
direct question. “No, I’m a sophomore. I’m new.”
Tyler looked disappointed. Josh piped up in his stead, “What’s your name?”
“Frank.” As Frank looked directly at Josh, he noticed a jagged scar along his
jaw. He idly wondered how it had gotten there, but decided against questioning.
“Nice. Are you excited about Friday?” He and Tyler exchanged a knowing look.
Frank didn’t know anything about Friday, much less if there was anything to be
excited about, so he simply shook his head and looked back at his desk. Josh
laughed, and Tyler joined him before they started talking again.
Why was everyone at this school so  weird?
He was about to put his head down on his arms and hope to get away with
sleeping for the rest of the period, but, lo and behold, someone sat down at
his table. He felt obligated to at least  look  at the newcomer, but as soon as
he did, he wished he hadn’t.
It was the senior from earlier in the morning, and the look in his hazel eyes
sent Frank’s heart spiraling down to his stomach.
In his peripheral vision, he saw heads turning away, which meant that they had
been looking, which meant that his earlier assumption was correct, and this was
someone important in the school. Even Tyler and Josh had stopped their chatter.
The dread he felt must have been apparent in his expression, because the senior
leaned forward as a smirk spread across his lips. “Hey, sugar,” he drawled,
using the pet name in a tone that seemed like its sole purpose was to further
Frank’s fear. It worked. “Today must be my lucky day, huh?”
At that moment, the bell rang for class to begin.  Saved.  Not really, though.
The older boy kept his eyes on Frank, doing nothing but leaning back in his
chair again. Frank wanted to look away, but like before, couldn’t. Fear
simultaneously told him both to break and to maintain eye contact.
The teacher gave a short introductory speech that no one listened to, much less
Frank and the boy sat opposite him. Paper was distributed, along with a basic
set of colored pencils, and instructions were given for them to draw whatever
they wanted to as a way for the teacher to “get to know” them. For once, the
room started humming with light conversation and the sounds of movement. Frank
took this as an opportunity to look down, away from this dangerous person, but
he should have known better than to think he could escape further interaction.
“So. I haven’t seen you before, and I’ve seen everyone,” the guy stated.
“I’m new.”
“You gonna tell me your name, sugar? Or do you want me to keep calling you
that?”
“It’s Frank,” he said, looking up and re-establishing eye contact.
“You’ve got a nice name, Frankie,” the senior said, almost as a challenge.
Frank almost took it, the protest rising to his lips, but the glint in the eyes
that stared at him was reminiscent of the glint on the knife that was surely
still somewhere on his person. His posture slumped slightly, but was noticed.
“I’m Gerard. It’s probably best to stay on my good side, so it’s a good thing
you’ve got a few things going for you already.”
They held eye contact in silence for a second, then it was broken - by Gerard,
this time. The older of the two reached forward to grab some colored pencils,
then set to work on a sketch. Frank didn’t really know what to do - well, he
knew what he  should  do, which was to follow suit and start the assignment,
but he didn’t really want to.
His decision was made for him, though, when Gerard glanced up to look at him
again. “You know, Frankie,  I  know I’m very attractive, but  you  have art to
make, don’t you?” He winked and was back to drawing before Frank could stammer
out a reply, a blush rising to his cheeks.  Attractive?  Who did this guy think
he was? Not that he was  wrong  or anything, but -  stop!  That! Is! Not! What!
You! Need! To! Think! About! That wasn’t even  why  he was staring. Gerard
obviously didn’t know how intimidating he was. Frank just didn’t want to fuck
up… Right?
With nothing to say, he grabbed a pencil and started marking lines on his
paper. He didn’t have a specific vision in mind, but it looked like a landscape
of some sort, so he went with it.
A few minutes passes in silence before Gerard spoke again. “So, being new, and
what - a freshman?”
“Sophomore.”
“Are you serious? You look like a middle schooler,” Gerard commented, disbelief
mixed with some sort of strange joy in his eyes as he looked up.
“I think I’d know what grade I’m in,” Frank snapped back before he could help
it - all the jokes about his height just  really  pissed him off.
“Well,” Gerard chuckled. “Looks like what I’m about to tell you will be even
more important. Lunch is next, and if you don’t mind missing part of it, I’d
love to explain the way some things work around here. Not that I should or
anything, but I’ll make an exception for you, pretty boy.”
For the second time that day (and it wasn’t even twelve yet, jeez) Frank found
himself speechless and nodding. Gerard grinned and said, “Great. Meet me behind
the science building, I’ve got some business to take care of after class.”
Frank and Gerard didn’t say another word for the rest of the period. When the
bell rang, the teacher told them to leave their drawings on the table so they’d
be collected. He hadn’t really been paying attention to what he was making, but
when his thoughts got back around to focusing on it, he’d drawn a sunset over
Monroeville. He wondered if this ache in his chest when he thought about it
would leave.
When he looked over at Gerard’s, the picture seemed to be of Gerard. After a
second, though, it was noticed that the design on his shirt wasn’t a design, it
was blood. And if those weren’t vampire fangs…
 
The back of the science building smelled like smoke. Frank waited for a few
minutes, not wanting to touch the wall, before Gerard showed up. “Hey,” the
older of the two said as he pulled out a cigarette. Frank nodded in return.
Gerard offered Frank a cancer stick, too, but he simply shook his head.
Frank desperately wanted to know what was up with all the secrecy and the
silence, the question on the tip of his tongue, but he knew he’d get his
answers eventually. Sure enough, a few lungfuls of smoke later, Gerard finally
looked at Frank.
“So, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that something’s up, right?”
“If by ‘something’ you mean cryptic warnings and no one talking to each other
and the way everyone seems scared of…  something,  then yeah. I’ve noticed.”
Gerard cocked an eyebrow at Frank’s tone, and the younger boy seemed to shrink
into himself. “All right. You want to know so badly, here’s what’s up: at this
school, we like to have fun. We’re all nice to each other, there’s no bullying,
and no one gets randomly beaten up. We’ve… Evolved. We’ve learned how to vent
our frustrations through  organized  violence. There’s rules and everything.”
It sounded fine, except - “Organized violence?”
“This is where it gets fun. You know teenagers, right? Always looking for
trouble, always wanting to get in a fight? You don’t? Well. That’ll change soon
enough. Being here makes a lot of kids feel frustrated, like they’re trapped
and they’re never going to go anywhere. Of course, the day after graduation,
hell if you can find any of them. But a lot of kids here feel helpless, like
they want someone to pay for their misfortunes, either by doing it themselves
or knowing someone else is doing it for them. Are you following me so far?”
Frank shifted nervously from side to side. “I… I guess.”
“Great. Now, it’s not fair to let someone put someone else through something
that they have not yet experienced, right?” A simple nod from Frank. He didn’t
like where this was going at all. “So, in order for someone to have a
justification for beating someone else up, they need to get beat up themselves.
So… We have four grade levels in high school, four stages of this. Seniors get
to do all the fun stuff. Freshman get to watch all the activities and their
aftermath. It helps them realize the inevitable truth that it will happen to
them. Juniors get to watch everything, too, to develop their bloodlust and
control it so it stays where it’s supposed to. And sophomores? Well… Someone’s
gotta bleed.”
Whatever Frank had imagined, it sure as hell wasn’t  this.  He was dreaming, he
was sure of it. He’d wake up the next day, safe in his bed in Monroeville.
Maybe he’d even wake up in the bed in his new house, go to school, and everyone
would be friendly. Anything would be better than what he’d just heard. He
didn’t even know how begin processing this. “What?  Bleed?”
Gerard took one last drag of his cigarette, dropped it to the ground, and
rubbed it out with his foot,  then took a step closer to the boy. “Yep.” Then
another; he was less than six inches away and Frank didn’t know what to focus
on; he obviously couldn’t just ignore Gerard, but he was trying to pay
attention to the situation he was describing as well. “You see, every Friday
night, we have a huge assembly. Everyone in school is required to attend. We
choose five names from the sophomore class, give them a ten minute head start,
then it’s a school-wide manhunt.”
Frank’s mouth had gone dry. What kind of sick, twisted school was this?
Surely,  there must be somebody who could stop this. The… The police, or the
teachers, or… There had to be someone. Right?
“Once a person is found,” Gerard continued, “There’s really no limits regarding
what can be done. No injuries that would have to result in amputations, and no
death, obviously, but the kids here have to have some sort of violent release.
Some hunt in groups, others individually, but it’s a ‘finders-keepers’ basis so
there’s not 30 people going after one kid. One night, then it’s done. It’s
really a good system when you think about it. No single person is targeted for
what they look like or how they act. Unless, of course, someone breaks the
rules. Then, that person is automatically put in for the next week and the hunt
is open to all grade levels. Wanna see what I got on mine?”
Frank shook his head; Gerard rolled his eyes and took his shirt off anyway.
Frank didn’t want to look -  really,  he didn’t - but his eyes seemed to glance
down of their own accord. Gerard had several scars across his collarbones and
chest, but the main attractions were the ones on his stomach in the shape of
letters. B. M.
“Bert McCracken. He was an asshole. He liked to beat kids up then mark them up.
I think he got four or five other kids besides me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Frank managed to stammer out.
“No, don’t be,” Gerard said, putting his shirt back on. “All it did was ensure
that I became an asshole, too.” He had a smirk on his lips as he finally
stepped back. “And, Frankie?”
Frank really didn’t like the way he was looking at him. “Yeah?”
“I can’t  wait  for your turn.”


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