Forget About The Dirty Looks.

Frank's POV
A tie has never felt so tight around my neck, a suit jacket has never felt so heavy hanging off my shoulders, a belt has never felt like a vice around my waist. The tie isn't even tied very good, it's hanging loose and at an odd angle, like a noose.
And, my hair won't sit right. I've been trying for the past fifteen minutes to get it to hang properly, but it just won't. I want all of this to be perfect for him, but it won't be, and it's all my fault.
Well, it isn't, not really, it just feels that way because I was the one that basically killed him.
The way everyone has been has crushed me, too. I'm glad I'm out of the hospital, everybody in there looked at me like I was a wounded puppy. They whispered about me, they wrote everything I said or did down, they monitored my every move. It was horrible, but I guess they wanted to make sure I was at least partially stable before they let me out, even if I have to go to meetings three or four times a week with a therapist.
Donna has been the worst, but she's been really good to me. I thought that she would hate me, even for a little while, but she's been treating me like she would Gerard or Mikey. It's like she's my mother, which is nice; refreshing.
Mikey has barely showed any emotion since I woke up, it's scary. It's like he's been wiped clean of emotion or something. I think the only times I've seen him cry since are when I woke up, and yesterday with Ray. I was kind of eavesdropping on their conversation, but I now know that Mikey's actually taking this a lot harder than anybody thinks.
It seems like everybody is falling to pieces around me, and I'm the only partially non-broken one, but that's only because of the anti-depressants I'm taking.
There's about thirteen minutes until it all begins, and I'm dreading it. I'm going to say a eulogy, but I haven't wrote it out or anything. What I say is probably going to be a lot of mumble nonsense, but I have to say something, even if it kills me.
I'm still trying to get my hair right, I'm stood in front of a little mirror in the back of the church. Me, Donna, and Mikey got here about half an hour ago. Donna wanted to make sure everything was in order, and me and Mikey are pallbearers. His coffin is already here, it's in the hearse outside. Donna wanted him here before everybody else got here, so we could say our last goodbyes privately.
I'm not sure I want to go and see him. The casket is closed, but it won't be when the ceremony starts. Perhaps I should go and see him now, because I don't think I can handle seeing his face, not after what he did for me.
My hair still won't go right, so I give up and sit on one of the uncomfortable chairs. I lean my head against the wall, closing my eyes. I just need all the thoughts, good or bad, that are buzzing around my head to stop, even for just one fucking minute, I just need to be not able to think.
It's constant, I can't get to sleep at night because of them, I can't concentrate on anything. I'm exhausted, mentally and physically. The slight peace I felt after reading Gerard's letter for the first time has vanished, leaving behind chaos. The anti-depressants I'm taking have helped a little, but Martin told me that I won't feel the full effects of them until I've been taking them for around three weeks.
"Frank?" I jump at the sound of Donna's voice, banging my head on the wall. "Ah, shit.." I rub the back of my head, looking up. Donna's been crying already, her eyes are redder than before. I soften my gaze and smile a little at her. "Yeah?" She steps into the room a bit more, giving me a fake smile back.
"Do you.. um.. want to go and say goodbye? You don't have to or anything, I just thought you'd want to do it before... you know.." I surprise her, and myself by nodding and standing up. Before I walk out of the door, I give her a hug. The hug reminds me of what Gerard's used to feel like, and I get chocked up, and I have to pull away.
When I get outside, the hearse is there, in all of its depressing glory. I gulp, staring at it for a minute. I don't have long before the others get here, so I best get a move on.
I open up the back, climbing in. Obviously, there isn't much space, but I'm small so I fit in okay.
The coffin is a black wood, with slightly gothic silver decoration on the sides of it. There aren't any flowers on top of it yet, but I have some black roses for him in the small back room. Black is- was his favorite color, after all. There's the flower arrangement in the back window.which is a mixture of roses: red; for love, courage, beauty and respect, white; for purity, dark pink; for appreciation and gratitude, light pink; for admiration, sympathy, grace and sweetness, and black; for death.
I picked most of them, wanting people to know that he was loved, he was admired, he had deep amounts of courage, and how much respect and gratitude I have for him.
He gave his life in exchange for my own, and if I could have found a rose color that signified awe in the short time I had for picking them out, the arrangement would have been full of them.
The arrangement itself is nothing special, it's just his name and a cross, but the colors are beautiful. They match his personality, I guess.
I run a hand over the cold, dark wood. A shiver goes down my back, and the temperature in the hearse drops slightly.
"Hi, Gee..." I crouch down next to it, sighing. "I miss you already, you little dick," I force out a chuckle even though it's only really me in here. "Fuck, Gerard, this is so hard. I just... I can feel everything and nothing at the same time. It's like I'm empty but full at the same time, how is that possible?" I let the question hang in the air, half expecting to hear Gerard's soothing voice telling me that it will all be okay, and when I don't disappointment stabs through me. I choke up, unable to say anything for a second. "I actually thought you were going to answer. How stupid am I, eh? You can't fucking answer, you can't answer, you're dead! You gave me your liver, you gave me your life. Why? I'm a waste of space, I can't do shit but wallow in my own misery and guilt," I look up at the coffin, tears freely running. I slam my palms on it out of anger. Anger from what exactly, I don't know. "I need to hear your voice, Gee. One last time.. I need to hear you. I need you to be alive, I need your warmth, your lame jokes. I need you. Please, Gerard, wake up," My voice is bordering on hysteria, breaking in odd places, and my breathing's labored. "You kept me sane, Gee, and now you're gone. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to do all the things you told me to do in your letter? How am I supposed to smile, be happy? I love you, I love you so fucking much, but now you're gone and all there is is a huge gaping hole in my heart, a hole that won't just disappear," I take a deep, shuddering breath and run my hand down my face. "I'm just... I'm trying to do all the things you told me to do, but I just can't. Smiles take more effort that I can give, and the thought of dating somebody else makes me feel sick. I try not to think of downing my pills in one go, but it just pops into my head and it doesn't leave. The only reason I haven't gone and done it is because of you. I can't let your death go to waste, can I? I have to make my life worth something, just because of you. But it's so fucking hard, Gee, it's so fucking hard to muster up the energy to open my eyes in the morning. It's hard to live, Gerard." I hear cars pull up, and I take that as a signal that I should start finishing up. I heave myself up, even more drained than I was before. I look down at his coffin, placing both of my hands on top of it. "I love you, Gerard. I'll love you forever. But you aren't coming back, and it's really hard to come to terms with that. I wake up expecting your legs to be tangled with mine, for your arms to round my waist. And when they aren't, it's a fucking slap to the face. Every time I look at your art, my heart shrinks a little more, every time I think of you, I die a little more inside," A knock to the window interrupts me. Mikey's out there with Ray, Bob, and some of Mikey and Gerard's family. I hold a finger, signalling that I'll be one minute, he nods, turning away.
"I love you, Gerard, and the only reason I'm doing any of this is because of you. I love you. So long and goodnight, darling." I kiss two of my fingers and press them to the top of the coffin, holding back sobs. I take one last look at it then walk out.
I wipe any stray tears from my eyes and cheeks and face the others. Mikey, Ray, and Bob are looking at me with sympathetic smiles, and for the first time Mikey is displaying emotion. I reach out and hug him, feeling his body start to shake slightly. He's crying, thank God. I thought something had snapped in him mentally, but this is good. Crying is good.
I rub his back, trying to act brotherly towards him. When he pulls away, his eyes are red but it isn't very noticeable.
A crowd has gathered outside of the church, all of them dressed in different shades of black. I think today is about the only day in my life I've actually gotten sick of looking at the color black, everywhere I look there is blackness.
The church door opens and the crowd files in, except for the eight people carrying Gerard's coffin. We all look at each other, our faces grim.
The hearse driver opens both of the back doors and motions for us to get the coffin out. He helps us, pushing it out from the front. When it's on our shoulders, a few members of the church gather in front of us, all carrying bibles. They start walking in, so we follow.
On films and stuff, coffins don't look too heavy, but, trust me, they are. Especially when you've already got the weight of the grief on you, as well.
When we enter the church, the priest starts quoting a verse from the bible, and the congregation stands up. We place his coffin down carefully onto the stand behind the priest and go take our seats. I'm on the front row with Donna, and Mikey. Ray, and Bob are on the row behind us.
The atmosphere is heavy and foreboding. I can barely stand upright through the hymns and prayers, at one point I'm gripping onto Mikey's arm to keep myself from falling down. Donna has a grip on my arm, her shoulders shaking and small choking noises being released occasionally. Mikey is stood with his chin up, letting the tears flow freely down his cheeks. I'm stood with my shoulders hunched over, trying to make myself look as small as possible.
It's finally time for the speeches, and Donna goes first. She can barely finish it, but it's beautiful and it fits Gerard's style. Mikey goes next, he speaks without so much as stuttering, even though you can clearly see the tears tumbling down his cheeks every second. Ray says a few words, but it's obvious he's having trouble getting his words out, and his hands are shaking so hard that he drops his piece of paper. He finishes up quickly, making it my turn.
I step up to the podium and stare at all the faces that are staring back at me. I wipe my cheeks and take a deep breath. I try not to look at the casket, knowing that I'll be able to see his face."Well, Gerard. He was something. He was everything. He was also nothing at some points of his life, at least that's what he thought. He was a special, special person. He did bad things, but I've done bad things, and all of you guys probably have, too. Even you, Mr Priest.
But he also did great, spectacular things. He was a brilliant artist, he was intelligent, there are a number of things I could say what was great about him, like how he loved me, his mother, his friends, Mikey. He had a fair few enemies, but he was loved by a lot more, and he will be continued to be loved until everybody dies.
I think the greatest thing he did, also his bravest, was one of the last things he ever did. He gave his life to save another. He saved me. We got married about a week before that, and I was dying. He agreed to give me his liver, knowing he would die. If that isn't greatness and courage, I don't know what is.
He told nobody apart from Donna and Mikey. I woke up after it happened with no clue about what he did. I'm heartbroken, as I'm sure everybody else is.
But, he wrote me a letter. It told me to be strong, to smile, and to carry on. He wouldn't want anybody in this room to grieve for him for too long, or too hard. Sure, he wanted to be remembered, but not in the clutches of tragedy and sadness. He wanted us all to be able to look back at our memories with him, and smile, not cry. Laugh, even.
I love Gerard more than anybody on this planet. I will continue to love him for the rest of my life. I will also have so much respect and gratitude for him. He was brave, he was special, he was all around amazing.
He was Gerard, and there will never, ever be anybody that will be able to replace the hole he's left in all of us, but we can try and fill the hole with love, and respect for him.
Thank you, Gerard Arthur Iero-Way, thank you for everything." Tears are running down my face, but it's surprisingly easy to talk. I decide to turn and face his casket, wanting to say goodbye properly.
He looks so peaceful, just like when he sleeps, but a lot paler. He always wanted to be paler, like a vampire.
I stumble to his side, falling to my knees. I brought a few of the black roses up with me, and a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. I place the flowers under his hands and tuck the cigarettes and lighter in his suit pocket. I stroke his cheek, feeling the smooth, cold skin that I've missed so much.
"Fuck, Gerard... Fuck." All of a sudden, I start breaking down. Seeing him, like this, has really made it sink in. He's really dead, he's gone forever. "Oh my God, I love you so much, okay? Fuck, Gerard, come back.. please... Come back.." I rest my head on the wood, breathing in and out ten times. I look back up at him and kiss him. His lips are cold and stiff, but I can feel the warmth of what used to be, and that's good enough. "I love you, Gerard. See you in hell, I guess." With a last look, I walk away on extremely shaky legs and sit back down.
I have a feeling that everybody is staring at me, but I couldn't give a fuck. I bury my face into Donna's shoulder, silently crying. I hear nothing else from that point, the roaring in my ears blocking most of the noise out.
I have to get back up to carry the coffin back to the hearse for it to be drove down to the cemetery. It's even harder to carry on the way out, it feels at least ten times heavier.
When he's back in the hearse, we drive to the cemetery. He wanted to be buried near his grandmother, and she was buried at a cemetery about fifteen minutes away.
Those fifteen minutes were agony. Nobody spoke, we just cried. Donna almost crashed because she couldn't see properly through the tears.
The burial was also silent, nearly everybody cried at one point, the only noises being the priest and soft crying.
And then we got to throw in flowers and handfuls of dirt. I threw in the rest of the roses and two handfuls of soil. I didn't get to close to the edge of the pit, I thought my legs were going to give out at any second. I got back to Mikey just before they did, so I managed to grab his arm and Ray's to stop myself.
The tears were still falling from my eyes, and my hands and cheeks were so cold that the tears that dropped on them actually hurt me from their heat. The weather seemed fitting for the mood, it was cold, with bitter wind, and it was raining.
Miserable weather for a miserable occasion.
At the end, me, Mikey, Ray, Bob, and Donna stayed behind for a while. We just stood in a small semi-circle around the freshly filled in grave. All of our arms were linked together, and I think all of us were crying.
It was horrible, looking at something so distant from what Gerard really was. The headstone is white marble, with a small angel at the top of it looking down at the earth. The inscription is something he'd never want as well, it reads,
'Gerard Arthur Iero-Way, beloved son, brother, friend, and husband.
He will be missed by many.
Rest In Piece.
April 9th, 1995- November 7th, 2014, aged 19.'
I wanted to get out some paint or a marker pen and write something else on it, or paint something. I'm not sure what, but it just seems to impersonal.
As the minutes passed, I started to feel emptier and emptier. I couldn't even make the tears fall from my eyes, let alone have them flow freely. I felt almost disjointed, I guess.
When it started to rain heavily, we left. The car ride home was silent, just like the one there. Even the engine was quieter than usual. Donna still had tears falling from her eyes, and Mikey was just staring out of the window aimlessly.
When we got back, I went straight down to Gerard's bedroom, and I swallowed two sleeping pills knowing that without them I wouldn't get a decent nights sleep, again. I let myself fall asleep, without a fight, for the first time in ten days, not caring about the nightmares that were sure to plague me all night.

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