"What did Mr. Burns have to say to you?" I was vaguely aware of the deep, raspy voice buzzing in my head. "Hello?" I was much too focused on nothing at all. I felt an intense pressure on the back of my head, I wouldn't say it hurt, but it sure wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"Hmm?" I sounded, finally looking up from the paper that I wasn't really focusing on either; I was more preoccupied with contemplating Frank Iero. Fuck that though, right?

"Never-fucking-mind." Bob said, sighing angrily. I didn't understand why he was so angry, it couldn't have been thatimportant of a question. "Where's your mind gone, Way?"

"Space Camp."

"Real fucking funny," Bryar began to shake his head. "Are you thinking about Frank?" Fuck that man and his impeccable intuition. My cheeks suddenly became inflamed and flushed a deep shade of pink.

"Not. Not in the way you might think." The words stuck in my throat; even though they were entirely true, Bob might not have believed me.

"Hey, I'm not assuming anything." I let out air that I wasn't aware I was holding in, and secretly thanked the dead Palestinian for bestowing upon me the least judgmental friend in the world.

"I dunno," I began, keeping my voice low. "I just don't understand him."

"Whataya mean? The other day you were telling him to go to hell. What's changed? Why do you suddenly have the urge to understand my cousin?" Bob must have actually missed the whole hallmark scene that played out the day before. And here I thought he had simply tuned out on purpose.

"Never mind," I said, waving my hand dismissively, "I don't want to think about it anymore."

There was something about the timing in my life - and it had always been this way - it was either horribly off track or perfect, there was no in between. Today, the timing in my life happened to be spot on, because the alarm-like bell sounded just as I turned my head back to my blank work packet. Most of the students in the room started milling about - talking, packing their bags back up, finishing a sentence on their papers, but one student - one boy - shot up from his desk as though the seat was on fire, and stalked out the door with his head angled toward the patterned tile floor.

I bet on the fact that no one else noticed or cared, and followed after the anxious boy quickly, hoping to be able to weed some answers out of him, if nothing else. The only problem was Frank Iero was just above five feet tall, making him quite easy to lose in a crowd. The fact that I didn't have the slightest inclination as to where he might be headed to next was no help either, so I decided that I could get my answers secondhand from Bob - there was no need to go on a wild goose chase after this boy.

My second hour class was Statistics, and how I loathed mathematics. Instead of taking a right down the next hallway to get to the designated classroom, I veered off course into the boys' bathroom to waste away another 51 minute block.

The creak of the door must have startled another occupant; a choked gasp made the tiny hairs on the back of my neck bristle and caused my heart to beat erratically. Wasn't this type of shit supposed to happen in the girls' room? All the same, I couldn't just walk back out of the bathroom without offering my help, my newly found conscience wouldn't allow it (I came to the conclusion that the reason I was feeling anxious and scared and whatnot was because I had developed a conscience - a primitive theory, yes, but it's all I've got so far).

"Hey, you okay in there?" My voice sounded inadequate even to myself, and I felt bad for intruding on a potentially sad soul as I rounded the small corner behind the door that was put in place so that people outside the restroom couldn't see into it.

I could have sworn that the sobs flowing from behind a stall door became audibly embarrassed, but I wished they hadn't - everyone has bad days.

"Hey," I said, hoping to sound more comforting that I probably did. "Who's in there?"

"Guh-Go awa- away, Ger-Gerard." Frank. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was bad, but I won't tell anyone.

Deciding that acting as though I didn't loathe him was what would be best for the situation, I pushed open the gray stall door so that I could talk to him face to face.

"Aweh, you know me just by my voice," I said, sitting cross-legged in front of the toilet where Frank had perched himself also criss-crossed.

The sight of Frank Iero, emotionally broken down and utterly defeated was the most heart-breaking thing that I had had to witness up until then. For a moment, I really did forget my hatred for the boy, he just looked as though he was in so much pain - almost like he had to get a shot.

Frank's black hair was ruffled, almost like he had run his hands through it multiple times in hysteria, and his face was cradled in his small hands, which were covered in salty, wet sadness.

"Fuh-Fuck off," he stuttered in between gasps for air. He was lucky that no one else had to take a piss.

"Not a chance," I quipped tenderly; I really wanted to help this kid, and I didn't know why.

"Wuh-why are you huh-here any-anyway?" I wanted him to stop crying, to stop being in pain; an electric current sparked somewhere within my veins, and my palms began to sweat.

"Well I was going to skip Stats class and graffiti this whole fucking place, but it looks like I'm here to get you to stop crying." I tried to keep my voice level as I wiped my hands on my jeans, the electric current swelling inside of my stomach and urging my heart faster.

"Don't fucking pity me," Frank commanded, his voice suddenly becoming strong, like the Frank I knew.

"This isn't pity, Iero, it's something like compassion." His face came out of his hands, and it looked just as I feared it would; his eyes were swollen and puffy, his nose was red and probably runny, his cheeks were saturated, and I, I had the awful urge to kiss his trembling lips and tell him that everything was going to work out alright. I wiped my palms one last time for good measure; the current threatened to set my body blazing.

"Why would-" gasp "you show muh-me that?" Frank broke out into another round of vicious sobbing, and I fumbled for words or actions. would you know what to say? "I - I thought yuh-you hate muh-me."

The electricity became too much to hold inside my body, and I grabbed Frank's shoulders, despite my perspiring hands. I had no idea what I was doing when I pulled him down into my lap and held him against my chest, all I knew was the feeling of his hair softly tickling my collarbone and his small, shaking frame tensing against my body momentarily before he wrapped his arms around me as well.

I didn't hate this Frank Iero. I didn't hate him at all.

"I don't hate you." I cooed. Something in the back of my mind pricked with worry - what if this was just another set up to make a fool of me? I tried my hardest to banish the anxiety and focus solely on comforting Frank in his time of need.

But as the seconds ticked by, my paranoia multiplied and reproduced and clung to me like the sweat on my palms, becoming sticky with negativity. Feeling sorry, I pushed Frank out of my lap, gathered my things and nearly ran out of the bathroom and the school, something that I was getting quite good at doing.

The choked, sob-muffled words that I heard over the creak of the bathroom door will haunt me forever.

Frank cried out loudly, making an ugly noise in the back of his throat. "Gerard!" He nearly screamed, riddled with desperation. "Don't leave me." His voice cracked. "Please don't."

Something tells me he wasn't faking it.

Notes

Chapter Title - Read All About It (pt III) by Emeli Sande

Well this is sad. I was hoping that the last part would be a lot more heart-wrenching, but I'm just a novice after all. When y'all buy my novels (some day), I'll be way better at writing sad things. (oh geez.)

xoBunny.