“Dear mom

I know it's been a while. Is Mikey doing okay? I’m sure he is. He’s a strong boy, I know that. Well, I’m not sure it’s okay to call him a boy anymore, he’s already sixteen and I’m certain he’s taking good care of you. Anyway, I hope he’s fine. I really want him to be.

And you? You haven’t tried contacting me in a long time. Almost three months. Well, I can’t say I blame you. I’ve been away for far too long for you to miss me. You’re probably mad at me, too. I just hope you don’t hate me. I do miss you, though. I miss you so both much I wish I could come back. And I love you. But you know what I’ve done. And that requires punishment which I’m still not prepared to get.

Want me to confess something? I’m not sorry. How could I be, mom? How? I know you loved him, but he hurt you, and he hurt Mikey. And that’s the reason I hurt him. He deserved to suffer. And he did, trust me. I didn’t make it quick. Just like he never made it quick with you.
Sorry, I’m not going to rant about him now, he isn’t important. Not anymore.

I want to know how Ray’s doing. Did he ask Christa out yet? He’d been talking about her for months before I left. Oh, that reminds me, is Mikey still in love with Pete?

Love. Oh God, I haven’t felt love in such a long time. Not the real thing, anyway. I think the last time was when Frank hugged me at the school parking lot because he was cold. Yeah, I think I have never mentioned my feelings for Frank to you. I know he creeps you out a bit, but I also know you love him anyway. He’s my best friend, after all. Was, anyway. I’m just really sorry I’d never had the guts to take it one step further than that.

Is he okay? Is my Frankie okay? I miss him so much, oh God. He’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about these days.

Why I’m asking questions I won’t get answers to, you ask? Maybe because I have an offer to make.

I’d like to meet you.
I’m not asking you to forgive me or anything; you can even tell the police that I’m in town as long as I’m concerned. I just really want to see you and make sure you’re safe. I’m not going to be there immediately, I’m going to be exactly ten minutes late. If I see any police, you’re not going to see me. But I’m sure you wouldn’t do that. You love me. You know I did it for us, right?

If your answer is yes, please show up at the cemetery drive on Thursday at nine pm. Don’t be late. And, please don’t bring any cops with you. Please. As your son, I’m begging you.

I love you

Gerard”


“Are you sure it’s really him?” Donna asks, staring intently into Frank’s eyes. She wants to read something out of them, anything. She doesn’t approve what Gerard did. No mother would. But she loves Gerard, and she wants him to be happy, and is there a bigger happiness than the one which kicks in when you find out that the person you love loves you back? Probably not. And Gerard does deserve that, even if he’s made a terrible mistake.

“Yes,” Frank blinks a few times, gazing across the letter once again. The messy, all-italics handwriting and the scruffy signature that vaguely reads ‘xoxo Gerard’ assures Frank it’s him. He doesn’t want to talk about the contents of the letter to Gerard’s mother, he really doesn’t. Partly because it would be completely embarrassing and awkward for the both of them, and partly because he still hasn’t processed all of it inside his brain yet. It’s not like he doesn’t like Gerard – but he’s never thought of him that way. And now, when he sees the part about the parking lot hug he barely remembers happening, shivers run down his spine and make him dizzy. And then he remembers Gerard has been missing for an entire year because he’d killed his father and ran away from home.

“I think you should go,” Donna says exactly four minutes and thirty three seconds later, making Frank look at her confusedly. “You can answer all these questions, too.”

“He asked for you,” Frank retorts, furrowing his brow. “He wants you to come, not me.”

“Frank,” she takes her head in her hands, sighing loudly, “He is in love with you. Of course he would want you to come.”

Frank gulps loudly, biting his lip and looking at the letters messily scattered around the cheap, faded newspaper page. Has Gerard changed? Probably. But it doesn’t seem like he did, not that much anyway, if the letter is anything to go by.

“What if he gets mad, Donna, what then? I’m so scared. I don’t know if Gerard is the person he was a year ago. I don’t know if he’s my best friend anymore.” Frank is hoping she would give up and go, just as Gerard asked. Frank isn’t being completely honest here, though. He isn’t that scared of what Gerard would do to him if he gets mad – he is scared of what he might feel when he sees Gerard.

“You know Gerard didn’t kill Donald because he got mad at him,” she mutters, the words hanging off her lips so painfully Frank could literally smell it. “And he loves you.”

“Stop saying that,” Frank says quietly, earning a questioning glance from her. “Stop saying that he loves me.”

“You have to accept it, Frank,” Donna closes her eyes, inhaling sharply. “You’re not obliged to return his feelings back. This isn’t a store; you don’t have to give the money when he gives you the groceries. It’s not his fault that he fell in love, but it isn’t yours either if you don’t love him too.”

Frank sighs, exhaling for at least fifteen seconds until he finally looks up again. “I know.” His voice sounds way more pained than before, when it was firm and completely calm. “I just… I need time to think.”

“You do have time to think.” She gives him a soft look, hoping he’d feel calmer. “You have time until tomorrow night.”

“I know,” he furrows his brow again, “I’m just so… shaken.”

“I know, honey,” she walks over to him and puts a reassuring hand on his back. “Sleep it off, okay? I’m just as upset about this as you are. Mikey will be, too, when I tell him.”

“I’m just going to go home, take a shower and think. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” He bites his lip and she nods, before walking him out of the Ways’ family home.

Frank and Gerard used to be inseparable. Best friends forever, people would say. Frank knew everything about Gerard, Gerard knew everything about Frank – they were completely free around each other, laughing at the same jokes, crying at the same sappy movies, rolling their eyes at the same people – people would say there wasn’t a thing that could separate those two.

Well, there was – Gerard butchering his father and running away. Honestly, it wasn’t exactly something Frank saw coming. But apparently, the story goes like this: Gerard came home one night, saw his father beating his mother up, knocked him with a frying pan and dragged him into the garden where he stabbed him with a kitchen knife several times. None of the wounds would usually cause someone to die, but Gerard twisted the knife continuously and let his father bleed out in agony.

Honestly, that’s something Frank used to hope would happen. Gerard’s father had been abusing not just their mother, but both Gerard and Mikey. And it was really painful for him to just sit around and watch it all happening. He knew someone would snap eventually. Although, not snap as in ‘stabs their father to death’, but snap as in ‘calls the police and reports domestic violence’.

He didn’t see it coming, but in a way he did. And he can’t say he blames Gerard for doing it. Because, even though Gerard didn’t have the exact right to take a life, he did what he thought was best for his family. And it was. It really was.

When Frank finally showers, fucks his dad’s worrying glance off and settles into bed, all he can think of is Gerard. Does he still have that stupid, greasy long hair that hangs around his face in dyed-black spaghetti and makes him look like a complete hobo? Does he still walk like his spine is a questioning mark and does he still drag his feet over the floor slower than turtles walk? Is he still the same Gerard, the one Frank could always come to when something was bugging him, the one that could wipe off all the bad things going on in Frank’s head by offering Frank a tight hug, a lukewarm can of Dr. Pepper and an Evil Dead marathon?

And with that thought, Frank falls asleep, dreaming about a whole bunch of pitch black.

*

He wakes up late, much later than he usually would. It’s around noon when he drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, hoping there’s enough milk for coffee so he doesn’t have to drag himself to the store in the cold.
Frank knows why Gerard chose this date exactly; it’s the date that marks exactly one year since he’s gone missing. Typical Gerard. Everything is a metaphor to him.

It’s the middle of winter break, it’s snowing outside and probably nobody sane is going to be at the cemetery at nine pm in this time of year. Great, now, if his best friend turns out to be some post-trauma-caused sociopath murderer wanting to kill his mother and slaughters him with a sharpie instead, there will be no witnesses. Great thought while you’re having your morning coffee and your dad is staring at you intently.

Honestly, Frank isn’t even that scared of meeting a fucking murderer, like a normal person would be. He is scared of the fact Gerard might be someone else, not his Gerard – not the sloppy ball of grease and dry humor Frank used to know oh-so-well.
And, if romantic-serial killer crap movies are anything to go by, Gerard definitely won’t hurt him.

“Frank?” Frank’s father says suspiciously. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Frank says casually, his acting skills boosting up like every time he’d lie to his dad. He’s grown accustomed to it – his dad doesn’t even know he still hangs out with Mikey. When Gerard ran away, he told Frank it would be best if he stays away from the whole Way family and Frank ‘promised’ he would. Oh dad, so naïve.

“You seem distracted.”

“Just… thinking about Pansy, she’ll need new strings soon,” he says. Well, not like he said anything untrue. Even though that really isn’t the thing worrying him right now.

“Oh. We’ll go to the record store next week, yeah?” his dad offers.

“Sure,” Frank smiles and heads to his room. He needs a cigarette.

*

He can’t say he isn’t completely flustered when he receives an upset phone call from Mikey who is freaking out big time. “Frank. You can’t… I mean, you can, but… what if Gerard isn’t Gerard anymore?”

Frank sighs loudly and closes his eyes. “I know, Mikes. I’ve been thinking about the same thing.”

“Then why are you going?”

“I don’t know, okay?” Frank is on the verve of snapping now, his mind filled with images of the worst case scenarios possible. “It just feels like something I need to do.”

“Are you in love with him?” Mikey blurts out, not even a hint of humor or mocking in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

“I, uh- no. Maybe. I- I don’t know.” Frank tries to make sense, but fails epically. “I… it’s complicated.”

“I get it,” Mikey says, and Frank is sure he’s wearing one of his sympathetic smiles on his face right now. “Just… calm down.”

*

By the time Frank arrives at the cemetery, the snow stops falling. He’s cold, scared and confused, wearing some stupid trench coat that Donna thought would make him look like her. He’s waiting by the sign that says ‘cemetery drive’, hoping Gerard would appear soon and lead him out of this anticipation slash complete misery he’s currently boiling inside.

Exactly ten minutes later he hears shuffling from behind him, but he doesn’t dare to turn around. He just doesn’t. But then he feels someone’s presence in a four feet radius, and a faint call.

“Mom?” The familiar voice croaks out silently, but loud enough for Frank to hear.

It takes him a few moments to gather himself, but he manages soon enough. He turns around and looks at Gerard. He hasn’t changed, not even a bit, wearing combat boots, black jeans and a thick leather jacket, a beanie hiding his hair which looks even longer than before, strands hanging loosely over his eyes which were turned to look at his shoes.

“The name is Frank, but I sometimes go by ‘mom’, too,” Frank says hopefully.

Gerard’s head shoots up, his eyes immediately finding Frank’s and locking with them for a staring battle that lasts at least three minutes. “Frankie.”

“Hey, Gee,” Frank smiles slightly, his doubts slowly fading away. Before Gerard can say anything else, Frank’s reflexes get the best out of him and he leaps forward, his arms wrapping around Gerard’s neck as his eyes fill with tears he promised himself he would never cry over Gerard again. “I miss you, oh God, you have no idea how much I miss you.”

Frank feels his waist being enveloped by Gerard’s arms, holding him firmly in place as his head buries inside the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry, Frank. I’m so sorry.”

Frank says nothing for a couple of minutes, just trying to calm himself down enough to talk. “Your mom is okay. Mikey is great, too. He and Pete have been dating for six months. Ray, too, he’s still obsessing over Christa, but he said he’d ask her to go to prom with him. Everyone is fine. They all miss you, though.”

“I’m really glad they are,” Gerard sighs, looking into Frank’s eyes intently. “But you still haven’t answered the most important question I asked in that letter.”

“Which one?” Frank pretends like he doesn’t know, but he’s actually only buying time because he doesn’t know what to say.

“You, Frank. How have you been?” Gerard pulls away a little, but his hands are still on Frank’s sides and Frank’s hands are on his shoulders.

“Me? I’ve been fine. I- my dad is a bit worried about me. I’m not sure why, though. I’m holding it together, yeah,” Frank mutters out, not believing a word he’s said.

“You don’t look fine,” Gerard says with pain inside his voice. He brings his hand up to Frank’s hair and wraps a brown lock around his finger. “Your hair got longer.”

“Yeah,” Frank looks into his eyes again. How could he even think Gerard would try to hurt him? If there is anyone who protected Frank in every case, whatever happened, it was Gerard. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I have to go, Frank.” Gerard is still sounding pained. “They’re after me. They want to put me in jail. I have to go.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Frank shoves his head into Gerard’s chest.

“I have to go,” Gerard closes his eyes and inhales sharply. “But you can come with me.”

Frank looks at him, searching for a hint of amusement, that little hint that’ll make Frank realize Gerard is joking. But he doesn’t find it. “Gee… I…”

“How do you feel about me?” Gerard stares into his eyes.

“I don’t know.” Frank bites his lip. But at that moment, that split second when he sees Gerard’s eyes catching a gleam from the shitty street lighting, he knows.

“I love you, Frank,” Gerard croaks out, his words honest and genuine as he rolls them off his lips. “Do you love me too?”

Frank takes a second to think, but doesn’t hesitate when he whispers, “Yes.”

At that moment, Gerard leans in and kisses his lips, softly and tenderly, showing that all he’s said is true.

*

“After a long time of silence, the Way case is back on the police’s newest records. Presumably, Gerard Way [20], after killing his own father exactly one year ago, has kidnapped his former best friend, Frank Iero [18] on Thursday evening and is currently keeping him hostage, reasons still unknown. It’s said that they met…” the news lady calmly states, making a great background noise for a cold January night.

Nobody’s listening to her, though; the room is dark and silent, the only things breaking the silence being her voice, the thumping of the wind against the windowsills and the coordinated breathing of two people, sound-asleep behind locked doors of a cheap Ohio motel room.

Frank fidgets in his dreams, pulling the covers upwards, adjusting the arm draped over his waist and tucking himself further inside the warm cocoon of the other man’s embrace. He falls back into darkness as soon as Gerard’s lips brush his temple, whispering an ‘I love you’ into his ear and chasing all bad dreams in plan for that night far, far away and lulling Frank into the safety of Gerard’s arms.

Notes

I don't know. It's just one of those days, I guess? Yeah.

Well, it's a bit shitty, but I'm at peace with it. I think.

- Milo