“Sit down, Frank.”

The therapist, or whatever the fuck she is, motions to the stiff brown chair resting against the wall. Frank glares. He doesn't want to be here, he wants to go home and curl up with his daughter, and watch Ed,Edd, and Eddy with her on the couch while they throw popcorn at the screen. What he also, really, really wants, is for Gerard to come back and let him apologize. Ask him about his weekend away, and what he was doing. Play with his dyed hair, and pull his dark purple socks off his feet and shove them on his own smaller ones. Maybe drag him back to Indigo, where they first kind of got together, and make Gerard say stupid confessional things about how his hair smells like dark chocolate, and skin like rose petals because its sweet and awkward, and then make coffee that’s too sludgy for his taste, but Gerard loves it.

Frank sits, because he has too. He promised. Told Mikey he would try, and he is trying. Its not easy, its really scary. The fabric on the chair is really itchy and nasty, all stiff, you can practically feel the tension soaking up into your ass. “So you know why you're here, Frank?” the therapist lady asks, raising her boring brown eyebrows.

“Kind of, I guess.” he says, rubbing his shoulder unconsciously. It’s throbbing hard with some kind of pain, like getting a tattoo except under the skin and more numb. “I guess.” he repeats.

“Its because you used to cut, right?” her eyes twinkle.

Frank blinks. “Yeah, because I used to cut.”

“And why did you cut?”

Why did Frank cut? He didn’t think he was ugly, maybe sometimes. It was more his Dad’s fault, he want to blurt. How he thought maybe his Nanny would notice and tell Francesco Sr., for his own father had forbid him to call him Dad. ‘“Makes me feel old, figlio.”’, he’d mutter under his breathe, swiping his hand over a dusty painting in the town house in Italy. His mom barely ever home. Maybe the first day his dad told him they were sending him away, to America. ‘“You’ll be okay, Cousin Lottie lives in Jersey. Just don’t mention the family, okay?”’, and a suitcase shoved in his hand. Showing up at the apartment, some old lady hugging and saying “Poveri bambino, poveri bambino!” over and over again.

“Because it was rebellious.”

“And not because of your mental disorder?”

Frank runs a hand through his longish brown hair, “Maybe? I really don’t know.” he sighs. The lady is staring at him with some kind of ‘evil’ look. He wants to punch the bitch, but socking ladies aint his thing. “Sure?”

“Thats the end of the session, Mr.Iero.” She clicks the top of the timer, and points towards the door.

“I've only been in here for fifteen minutes!”

She looks at her watch, “You stared at me for almost the whole time. Sorry, but my other client is coming in.”

Frank get’s up, and walks out the door to his car. He’s tired of this shit. He keeps blacking out randomly, not even noticing. Roxas had tried to get his attention for an hour last night, and he had just sat and ignored her. It’s been almost a week since his fight with Gerard, and only five days since he got out altogether. He’s worried. The apartment across from him looks abandoned, Gerard’s halloween lights in the shaped of skulls not glowing in the front window, and he hasn't seen Tink being let out in three days. The cops had already cleaned up all the blood, but he can still see the dark stain of it on the concrete step. If Gerard’s avoiding that door, he would understand. But what he doesn’t fucking understand, is why his boyfriend- his motherfucking love of his life won't contact him.

“I understand I messed up,” Franks says aloud, gripping the steering wheel hard. His dreamcatcher swinging from the front mirror, “But I need you to at least make the end official.”

Its not one sided, he wants to scream at Gerard, Just because you're over me, doesn't mean I’m over you. Lets talk about us. He’s also scared. Scared to bring up Valentine, and what he did to Gerard, how he used him. He wants to dock him in the face for not telling him, and then wrap a soft afghan around him, rubbing his long fingers between his short ones. “Fuck!” he curses as he pulls into his parking spot, “Fucking hell.”

Frank gets out of the car, and rucks up his jacket. He starts to walk towards his door, when he notices a guy standing on the sidewalk, a cardboard box in his hands. Frank thinks ‘creep’, until he notices a familiar pair of Doc Martens with a little misfits emblem scratched into the toe part, that he did. He looks at the guy- Gerard, and stares. Gerard’s eyes flicker over to his car, the back trunk open. Suitcases stacked next to, a rack holding easels.

“Uh, Hi.” he stutters, tucking a piece of long black hair behind his ear.

“You’re moving?” Frank blurts, a lot pissed off. A really, really lot pissed off.

“Uh, yes?” Gerard’s looking at his feet, avoiding Frank’s eyes. “I just, I have to go. Frankie-”

“Don’t call me that.” Frank holds up his hand, “I get you’re messed up, Gerard. I know this is hard. But your ex just shot me, not you, remember? You said you loved me, the guy who beat the shit out of him, the guy who fucking said it back. And meant it. Do you think this is some fucking game? Because I feel played.”

“What? No. I just have to get away from you. We aren't good...we shouldn't be...together. We aren’t good for each other. I’m corrupting you. I’ll end up...end up ruining everything again. Gotta get away, from here.” Gerard says, he looks serious too. His eyebrows knitted together, fingers tucked hard against the box he’s holding. “I’m gonna go do some photography. I got, a job. That’s why I was gone. I got a photography job with a guy I know, and maybe some clothes designing too Frank.” he smiles a little. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Then stay.” Frank says, stepping a bit closer. Gerard shakes his head, “Stay. Stay. Stay, stay, stay!” Frank sobs, rubbing his eyes hard. He reaches towards Gerard, resting a hand on his pale cheek. He can feel him shaking under his touch, and he just, he just leans forward and kisses Gerard hard, lips chapped and heavy, and slick with spit. Its the worst and best kiss hes ever had. Completely zapped with emotions, shaky and unsteady. The kind of kisses that Disney should talk about, the ones that taste like ashes, bones and graveyards. Gunpowder. Blood, metal, dirt, and smoke. Sweat, and sheets. This kiss is the kiss that you don’t tell your kids about, you keep to yourself because its yours.

Frank can feel Gerard shift the box to one hand, and then soft heat against his heart. “I can’t Frank,” he says, pulling away. A trail of saliva is the last thing that connects them now, from each others mouths. It breaks, and Frank just, just crumbles. “I gotta go. Frankie, Frank. Frankie.” Gerard says desperately, and is standing far back now. Eyes blown wide, hair wild around his face. It’s fucking raining now. Fat drops falling down Frank’s face, into the hem of his jacket collar, down his chest.

“Goodbye, Frank.” Gerard says it, like its the last thing he’ll ever say. His voice cracks, and he turns away. Leaves Frank standing in the grass, in the rain.

Frank sees Gerard pack the rest of his stuff in the car, quickly, before jumping into the driver’s seat and driving away. Frank waits for him to turn back towards him. Come back and say he was kidding, didn’t know what he was thinking. Before he even knows it, It’s midnight, and he's sitting in the grass, mud soaked into his jeans. He only gets up, because if he doesn't he could get sick. He is going to already, he can feel the mucus thick in lungs. Frank pushes himself up, stands in the grass for a few minutes, letting his bones pop back into place, before turning towards his door.

He’s almost all the way up there when he sees it, painted thickly on the door.

And underneath a pair of skeleton gloves nailed to the door. And that’s when he knows Gerard isn't coming back, its over. Over for now, maybe forever.

He hopes not, really truly hopes not. And that’s what he does. He hopes.

Notes

"I love you forever, Francesco Anthony Iero Jr."

Book one is over, lovelies. So who's ready for book two?

Took me forever to make that banner, shit. And this chapter was really emotional for me to write. I just...Im so excited for this to be over, and for the new book to come out. I will post a new chapter on here that has the link, and a brief summary of the first chapter on here by next Friday.

Im so sorry for the sad ending, but It will get happy!
I love you, lovelies.
XoXo Sage