The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

(Author’s note: I have nothing against Bert McCracken, by the way. What happened between him and Gerard, as well as the rest of MCR, is all old news. Anyway, carry on…)

Can you hear me?
Are you near me?
Can we pretend to leave, and then
We’ll meet again, when both our cars collide?
What’s the worst that I can say?
Things are better if I stay.
So long, and goodnight
So long, and goodnight

Those are words I’ve sung constantly ever since the day Gerard left me forever, even after four years later. Those previous four years have been a struggle of life and death for me. I’ve missed him dearly, and I still do to this very day. Gerard wrote those lyrics in memoriam of his grandma, but now, I’m singing them in memory of him.
I’m still locked away in this prison, constantly going over all the things Gerard has told me to prevent myself from taking my own life. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to kill myself ever since I lost him. It’s been too many times for me to count that I’ve been put in the Box on suicide watch. Despite the many friends I’ve gained in this place, I still felt oh so lonely without him, and to be honest, it’s still like that today. I’ll never forget that tragic day he left me, where he died right in my arms, barely remembering the world around him, except for the man that’s tried to put him back together for so long. I am still hurting. I am still lonely despite the friendly company I’ve surrounded myself in. I am still not entirely unbroken without him…
But I’m not giving up. I am not afraid anymore like I used to be. Gerard told me to keep fighting, to keep running even after he’s gone. He told me to be stronger, and that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do. I know Gerard would be disappointed in me if I were to give up and kill myself, so I’m gonna continue to do what he’s told me to do. I’m gonna keep living for him, and keep fighting to survive in this prison without him. Besides, it’s been four years since I’ve been thrown in this place…which means I’ll be eligible for parole soon. If I continue to keep my head down and out of trouble (and not try to kill myself, like I’ve already done one too many times here) I’ll be able to leave earlier than my original sentence of fifteen years. All I have to do is be good and continue to do what Gerard told me to do in that note before he passed away, which I know will do. I am not scared anymore. I am not afraid to keep on living. I am not afraid to walk this world alone. I still see Gerard all the time, in and out of my dreams. I always see him smiling at me, happy that I’ve managed to not give up on him and myself. I want him to be happy. I want him to see that I’ve taken his words to heart.
_ _ _
Today marks a very special day. It’s not for me, though. That comes tomorrow, when I’ll be eligible for parole. Today’s a crucial day for my cellmate Pete; he gets to leave today. I still don’t know to this day what he did to land himself in this shithole, but it doesn’t matter. The law’s forgiven him of that and is gonna set him free, like a bird soon to fly its wings and escape from the cage it’s been locked up in. I can tell he’s very excited about it, just like any other prisoner would be. All morning he’s been jumping and dancing around as he packed his bags and signed a bunch of papers contributing to his release. I must say, I’m gonna miss him too. He’s been a really good friend and cellmate to have. He’s even managed to save my life a few times. If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve ended up in succeeding in killing myself. I envy him a bit that he gets to leave…okay, no. I’ll be honest—I’m very fucking jealous of him that he gets to leave. Since he’s leaving, I’ll still be here, left to rot in this godforsaken place. I can only hope that my next cellmate here will not be a complete malicious scumbag, like many of the people here that are always looking for trouble. Something tells me that I won’t be so lucky, and that scares me to near death…
“I’m really gonna miss you, man,” Pete said, picking up the last of his bags as a cop stood beside him to escort him out of here for good. “It’s been quite the experience here with you,”
“Yeah, it has,” I nodded, sitting at my bottom bunk, a now empty top bunk above me. “I’m gonna miss you, Pete,”
“I will miss you too, Frank. But I’ll be sure to keep in touch with you. You know I’ll be flooding you with letters and phone calls,” Pete sang, starting to walk out of the cell one last time. “Don’t worry, Frank. I’ll be thinking of you…and Gerard. I’ll keep the both of you in my thoughts,”
Hearing Gerard’s name come out of Pete’s mouth set me off a little, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter and my heart skip a beat. I must say, it made my eyes water a little too. I know I shouldn’t cry, though. I know Gerard wouldn’t wanna see me crying over him years after he passed away. He’d want me to be happy and smiling, remembering all the good times with him. I can still feel him right next to me, telling his sugar not to cry. I smiled warmly, trying my damndest to hold back those stinging tears. I stood up, walking right to my leaving cellmate and gave him a big hug, him dropping all my bags and gracefully returning the favor.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice choked back by the tears that started to run from my eyes. “Thank you so much, Pete. I really appreciate it,”
“You’re welcome, man,” Pete replied, our bodies departing from each other one last time. He smiled, walking out of the cell as the impatient cop followed him. “Talk to you later, Frank. Keep your head up high, okay?”
“Will do,” I said to him as he waved goodbye, walking down the hall with his escort. He of course returned it, smiling and waving one last time before I turned away, never again to see him in this place. I must say, it does feel good to have this whole cell to myself; no more will I be awoken by Pete’s loud snoring. But me having no cellmate and the whole room for me doesn’t make up for how alone I’m soon to be. Who’s gonna be there when I do eventually slip up and go back to my old, self-loathing self, god forbid that does happen. That person’s gonna have to be myself.
I turned away back further into my cell to wash up in the little sink next to the commode. All around it are pictures of me and Gerard, reminding me of all the good times we’ve had, to Gerard’s birthday party to the thousands of times we’ve cuddled in his bed or on the couch. I looked into the mirror as I ran some warm water to wet my face. I really have changed, not just emotionally, but physically. I do definitely look a little older, but not old enough to look like someone’s grandpa, of course. I have sure as hell matured, to say the least. It’s been a while since I’ve had my hair cut. My black hair has gotten pretty long, now touching my shoulders...
I’m starting to look more like him. It’s almost like he’s right there in the mirror, looking back at me with all those photos all around him…
“Gerard…I miss you,” I mouthed before splashing my face with water, washing my face up. I looked up again, just to see the same exact reflection as before. It’s really like he’s right there, smiling back at me. That smile quickly faded, though. It faded into a frown and tears in the eyes, running down the cheeks.
“No, stop!” I said to myself, shaking my head. “Stop crying, damn you. Stop being a big baby, Frank. Gerard wouldn’t wanna see this. He wouldn’t wanna—“
“Iero,” a voice called out, one that’s booming throughout the whole vicinity. I turned around to see a cop, one that’s clearly not Patrick. It’s another one…one that’s nowhere like him at all, both physically and mentally. I can immediately that he’s just like the rest of them. “You’ve got a new cellmate,”
“Who?” I asked, only to have that question answered for me immediately when I got a good look at the man in the orange jumpsuit next to him, and I must say…I’m already getting bad vibes from him. Something tells me that like the cop next to him whose like all the other power-hungry officers, this guy is just like all the other prisoners—vile, malevolent, and always looking for trouble.
“Iero, this is Bert. Bert McCracken. He’ll be your new cellmate. Just came in today,” the cop said, his introducing hand out to a slim, grimy man with long scraggly black hair and stubble on his chin. The smile he gave me made me cringe, his face giving me a “I’m really gonna hurt you and make you miserable” kind of look. I hate this Bert guy already. He’s gotta be in here for murder. I’ll be damned if I’m wrong.
Goddamnit. My cellmate’s a fucking killer…just like the bad part of Gerard was.
“Bert, this is Frank. Frank Iero. You’ll be sharing this cell with him,” the cop said. “Make yourself at home, and don’t kill each other, alright?”
“Will do,” Bert sneered, his face full of nothing but bullshit lies. He walked in, only to have the cell door shut and locked by the officer, who promptly walked away without another word, leaving me with this scumbag that I’m already not very fond of. Bert turned to me, that shit-eating grin still on his face. “Hello there, Frankie...looks like we’re gonna have fun,”
Oh, no…you did not just call me Frankie. No one calls me that…except for Gerard. But you’re not Gerard. You’re Bert Mc-fucking-Cracken, and you’re a fuckwit.
“Please don’t call me that,” I said, feeling myself cringe from what he just called me. “I don’t like being addressed by that name. I prefer just Frank, thank you,”
“Too bad!” Bert spat, his spittle flying right into my face, which I promptly wiped off in disgust. “I’ll call you whatever I want to…Fraaaaaaankie,”
Oh…now I really, really don’t like you, fuckwit…
It’s not worth it. This dirtbag is not worth me losing my parole. I can’t fight this guy. Besides, I’ve never been one to start one with someone, no matter how much of a jerk they may be. I know Gerard wouldn’t want me to take a swing at anyone…at least, not the good side of him…
“Oh, who is this here?” Bert sang, ripping off one of the photos of me and Gerard from my mirror…without my permission. His brown eyes examined it, getting his grimy hands all over it like the piece of shit he is. “Is this your boyfriend, Frankie?” he asked, pointing a finger at the Gerard in the photo next to me, the both of us smiling as we cuddled up on the couch together in it.
“It’s none of your business. Put that back where you got it from, ple—“
“Nope!” he exclaimed, examining the photo some more, clearly being not just a scumbag, but a nosy scumbag. “What happened to your boyfriend, Frankie? Did he die?”
You motherfucker…don’t you dare ask that!
“You don’t need to know anything, fuckwit!” I snarled, walking straight up to him and snatching the photo right from his filthy hands. “You don’t even deserve to speak of him! You’re dirt!”
“Ohhhh…someone’s got attitude,” Bert grinned sinisterly, not at all taken back by my venomous words. Maybe he is, though. Maybe I did hurt his feelings, but is too much of a coward to admit it, the bastard. “I bet your boyfriend is dead because you gave him AIDS and you killed him, huh? Is that why he’s—“
“Shut up!” I screamed, feeling myself tremble. I can’t take it anymore. He’s really done it now. I know Gerard wouldn’t wanna see me like this, but I can’t stand this any longer. I can’t afford to stand by and let someone talk about Gerard like that. He doesn’t deserve any of that at all. I can already feel tears of pure hurt and rage fill up my eyes, unable to hold them back. “You shut the fuck up! You’re a goddamn liar! Shut…the…fuck…up!”
“Make me!” he sneered, more of his spittle emitting from his mouth and right on to my cheek. I growled, deciding it really is best to just walk away and mind my own business. I just gotta tell myself over and over again that he’s not worth it. I’m gonna just walk away and wash up my face again and get his filth off of me. That’s all I’m gonna fucking do, despite that feeling eating at me to punch him right in the fucking face. I walked right past Bert and to the sink, leaving him with a dirty look on my face as I turned on the sink, running some more warm water in it.
Just leave it alone, Frank…he’s not fucking worth it…
“Hey, Frankie,” Bert called out as I washed my face in the sink. “I want the bottom bunk. Move your stuff up top,”
Are you serious? You’re not taking my goddamn bunk bed. I’m shorter than you, anyway. I’ve had that bed since I first got here four years ago. Ain’t no way you’re gonna come in here and call the shots. It doesn’t work that way, buddy.
“No,” I said flatly, hoping it’ll sink in through his thick skull. “That’s my bunk. Leave it alone. You get the top—“
“Since when? You don’t make the rules! I don’t even see your name on it!” Bert rebutted, already clearly angered that I’m not giving in to his bullshit. “Give me the fucking bunk, Frankie!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
I fell back, feeling Bert’s fist punch me clear in the face, the pain radiating from my left cheek. I landed right on my can, holding my now throbbing face as I eyed Bert in pure bitterness. Now he’s really done it. I can’t sit here and take all of this. I need to fight back. Gerard would tell me to stand up for myself and not take bullshit from anyone. I’m not sure about the violence part, but I just can’t sit back and be the victim. This Bert guy needs to learn a lesson from me—don’t fuck with a gay prisoner whose boyfriend died years ago. I stood up, looking straight at Bert’s filthy face as I hit it, making him fall back as I felt something in him break.
“Fuck you, you fucking fuck!” I yelled, feeling my throat already going hoarse. I saw Bert wince, holding on to his bleeding nose as he shakily stood up, wiping at the blood running down from his now broken nose. Now there’s no way in hell I’ll be getting that parole chance tomorrow…I am so fucked…
“You…you motherfucker!” Bert hollered, taking another swing at me. It was at that moment that a fistfight broke out, the both of us pummeling each other to a bloody pulp. I punched Bert in the face, just to have him do the same to me. I know the good and rational side of him wouldn’t be happy with me…but that’s not what his dark side would be. He’d be cheering me on, telling me to beat Bert until he’s a bloody mess that can’t stand on his two feet.
I’m sorry, Gerard…I am so, so sorry—
Bert punched me right in the face again, making me stumble to the floor. I hit my head against something hard behind me, probably the sink. I fell to the floor, too weak to get back up like before…
Oh no…I can’t move! What’s happening?
“You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” Bert screamed above me, kicking my head in again and again, my head now throbbing and barely able to take in its surroundings.
I can’t see anything. I can barely hear anything. I can’t even feel anymore! I can’t get up! I can’t feel my arms or legs. I can’t breathe, either! What the fuck is happening to me? What the fuck is going on? Is this the end for me…?
“Get away from him!” another voice yelled, one that sound like it belongs to Patrick. My head’s not being kicked in anymore. Patrick must’ve stopped him. “Oh no…fuck, look at all that blood! There’s so much blood! He’s badly hurt! Someone, get an ambulance quickly!”
I’m slipping away. That’s what’s happening. I’m probably gonna die…I am gonna die! This is the end for me…I am gonna die, just like Gerard. I’m gonna pass away in this damn cell, never again to live and breathe another day. At least I’ll never have to deal with Bert. He can rot for all I care. My whole world around me went black as I closed my eyes, my dying body giving in on me. I know I’ll never open up my eyes again. It’s the end of the line for me…
I’m so sorry, Gerard…I failed you…
I love you, Gerard. I hope you can forgive me…
_ _ _
“Look, guys! He’s opening his eyes! Ray! Bob! He’s…he’s waking up!” someone exclaimed.
Who’s there? Where am I? Ray? Bob? Mikey? Are you guys there? I need to open my eyes…
“Oh…oh, Frankie…,” a different voice spoke, sounding sad.
“Poor thing, man…,” another one said, sounding equally as unhappy. “Poor, poor Frankie…,”
I opened my eyes, a bright light blinding me up above. There are three heads looking down at me, all of them belonging to people I know! It really is them! It’s Ray, Bob, and Mikey…but they all look sad. I guess it’s because I’m in the hospital, seeing the bed I’m lying in with all the machines I’m hooked up to, as well as the cards, flowers, stuffed animals, and balloons near me at my bedside. But shouldn’t they be happy for me? I survived being beat up by Bert! I remember every fleeting moment of it, from start to finish. They should be happy I’m awake, right?
“Looks like you pulled through a bit…,” Mikey said, still frowning. “Maybe too much…,”
What? What are you talking about, Mikey?
“Frank…can you hear us?” Ray asked, reaching his hand out to hold mine. There’s something off about his eyes. They look wet, like he’s been crying...but why? “If you can hear me, Frank…squeeze my hand,”
Okay, if you want…
Wait a minute. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I squeeze his hand like he asked me to? Something’s not right here. I need to tell him!
Wait…I can’t talk either…
Oh, no…something’s wrong…very, very wrong…
“Come on, Frank! Squeeze my hand! You’ve got to!” Ray cried, his voice growing weepy. “You’ve gotta hear me! Please!”
“Guys…he can’t…,” Mikey sighed. “The damage was too severe. That’s what Dr. Leto said, remember? He had almost no chance of waking up, and even if by some miracle he did…he’d be almost like Gerard. He’d never be the same again…,”
What? No! That can’t be right! I can’t be a fucking vegetable! Bert couldn’t have damaged me that bad. If he did, I wouldn’t have never woken up from whatever deep sleep I was in!
“But Mikey…Frank was only in a coma for a couple of weeks, compared to Gerard, who was in one for months! You gotta have faith in him, man! You’ve just gotta…,” Ray drifted off, already losing his steam. I felt him grip my hand tighter as the tears ran down from his eyes more and more.
“I really wish I could, Ray. I really do…but the truth is, he’s hopeless. Even his own parents believed that he’d never come back. It baffles me they’d wanna keep him alive, the poor thing…,” Mikey looked down at me, looking like he’s trying his hardest not to cry, just like Ray and Bob next to him, but was failing. “We can’t keep him alive like this. He wouldn’t want that, and neither would Gerard. I don’t want him to sit here and rot away suffering, and not even knowing he exists. We tried holding out hope…but we got nothing. Dr. Leto said that it’s the end of the line for him. We’ve gotta let him go…,”
What? Let me go? Am I really that terminally ill? Is this really the end for me? Am I really gonna die here? If so, then…I’m willing to accept it. This must be my time to go, after all. Whatever’s on the other side is waiting for me. I know Gerard will be there waiting for me. I need to see him. I need to be with him again. I know he misses me, because I miss him.
“No! We can’t do that! We can’t kill Frank!” Ray rebutted angrily, clutching my hand so tight that I swear he’s cut my circulation off of it. He turned to me, begging for a sign for me. “Frank, if you can hear me and the others, please blink your eyes. Please!”
I can’t, Ray. I can’t even blink my eyes for to give you a sign. Something as simple as blinking my eyes is far out of my ability. My eyelids feel like they’re glued open, making my eyes sore and cold. I’m sorry, Ray…I’m so, so sorry. It looks like Mikey really is right. I am gonna die. I really am at the end of the line. Besides, what’s the point of living if I can’t do anything? I don’t wanna go through a similar fate as Gerard did. Just please, let me see him again…
“You’ve gotta let go, man,” Bob sighed remorsefully. “You wouldn’t want Frank to lie there suffering and not even know it, would you? No one would want that,”
“He’s right, Ray,” Mikey joined in, taking a second to wipe at his eyes. “I wish none of this had to happen to Frank, but it did. The best we can do is help him out so that he’s not hurting anymore. I woulda done the same for Gerard, but…I didn’t, and I fucking regret it. If Gerard were here, I’m sure he’d want the same for Frank. He’d want him to die with dignity. It’s only best for him, Ray. We’ve all gotta let him go…,”
Please, Ray. Please listen to them. I don’t want this. I don’t wanna lie here barely living, lying in my own waste all day and night, unable to care for myself at all. It’s too scary. Just let me die already. Let me be with him again…
Ray sighed deeply, looking like he’s really trying to deliberate his options. It wasn’t long before he broke down, smearing the mascara on his face from all his tears that he’s been crying. He’s given up. He knows he was wrong. He’s gotta do the right thing.
“I guess you’re right,” he sniffled, still holding on to my hand. “I’m just scared, that’s all. He was my best friend…and I’m scared of losing him. But if killing him is what’s best for him here…then so be it,”
“I feel your pain, Ray,” Mikey said. “I really, really don’t wanna do this as much as you do…but it’s what’s best for him,”
Thank you, Ray. Thank you for understanding. I really wish I could tell you that, but clearly, I can’t. I definitely would, if I could…
Mikey looked away, examining the many machines I’m on to keep me alive. He got up and shut the door, then quickly came back, holding a series of cords in his hands. My life is literally in his hands now. I can see him shaking. There’s a part of him that’s just as scared as Ray is. I’m scared too. I’m literally gonna die here, and it’s only minutes away from now. I am minutes away from being reunited with Gerard once again, and forever. I never believed in an afterlife, until now…and Gerard is there waiting for me.
Don’t worry, baby…I’m coming for you.
“Well, F-frankie…this is…g-goodbye,” Mikey said shakily, his hands trembling with the cords in them, ready to be pulled from their plugs at any given moment.
“We’re gonna miss you, man,” Bob joined in.
“Goodbye, Frank...,” Ray said, not letting go of my hand.
Time itself seemed to have paused at that moment, with all the cords still in Mikey’s hands. I can see he’s shaking so much. He’s scared. He’s terrified. He’s afraid of letting go. He shut his eyes, giving the wires a good yank and cutting off my lifeline. I already don’t feel right. I can’t breathe anymore through the tube that’s in my throat. I am literally gasping for air in my own paralyzed body. I am slipping away. My whole world around me is going gray. My eyes are closing shut…
I am dying. I am soon to leave this body forever, never to return. I am coming back home to Gerard.
“You were his whole world, Frank. You helped fix him…,” Mikey said, taking a spare pillow and planting it right above my face, smothering me as I slipped into unconsciousness. I know I’m never coming back from this. “You were the light behind his eyes…,”

Notes