All We Need is Daylight

“Do you eat anything besides pasta ever?” Patrick asks.

“Occasionally I dip garlic bread in my pasta sauce.”

“That can’t be good for you.”

“Patrick, I burn off more calories than you can possibly imagine playing hockey every night. If you knew how many protein bars this body has consumed, you would be startled. I bleed three things in this world, pasta, root beer, and protein bars.”

“Your existence astonishes me,” Patrick says it as Frank takes a bite of pasta and makes a soft sound because damn does he love pasta. It’s like pizza, you’ve got your grain, your tomato, and your cheese. It’s just alternative pizza. Also, Frank is Italian.

“What’s this big news that you’ve got to tell me about?” Frank asks, mouth full, because he doesn’t live with his mom anymore so she can’t tell him what to do. He’s a little uninterested, if he’s being honest, because Gerard just texted him a picture of a fat bird he saw on a tree branch, and that’s probably the peak of his day so far.

Gerard is literally the cutest person he’s ever met. Like, Gerard is sexy, and Frank isn’t going to deny that ever. He’s hot, he’s sexy, he’s unbelievable. But also, he’s so goddamn cute. He’s so squishy, with his chubby little cheeks, and he’s so soft with his dark brown hair, and he’s warm with his hugs, and he always lets Frank be the little spoon. He has really nice lips that Frank likes kissing, and he legit has a butt which is great, because Frank doesn’t.

“Uh, Frank?” Patrick says, and Frank looks up.

“What?”

“You literally just glossed over. I said your name like four times.”

“Did I?” Frank wants to tell Patrick that it’s not the bad kind of glossed over. For the first time in a while, Frank isn’t focused on all the things that make him sad. He’s still depressed and gutted right now, but he’s putting in a lot of effort to not hate himself, and the best way to do that is think about how cute Gerard is. His tiny little teeth, holy shit! His tummy! What the fuck!

“Yeah, so this is really big, Frank. It’s really good news. Are you coherent enough to hear it?”

“Yes, yeah, I am ready.”

Patrick takes a deep breath and then smiles really widely at him. “So I got an email last night from a football player.” As soon as Frank hears the words, he can tell what the end of the sentence is going to be.

“Holy shit.”

“Yes! So apparently,” Patrick says, “there’s a football player, here at Armstrong, who is gay, and he sent me sort of like a direct response to your article.”

“Oh my god,” Frank says, and he doesn’t forget that Gerard exists, because how could that be possible, but he does have something else on his mind which is a feat. For Frank to think about anything besides the fact that he’s incredibly depressed and holding back tears at every second, and also how cute Gerard is, that’s not a task taken on by the timid.

“The email was anonymous, like how we claimed your interview was. He directly said that the interview I had done with you had inspired him to speak out, because he wanted to provide inspiration for other people too.”

“Can you forward it to me?” Frank asks. This had been his goal, hadn’t it? He had given that interview specifically so that other people like him could feel less alone. And it worked. Someone out there read that article and identified with it. Identified with him. Frank genuinely isn’t alone. What a fucking feeling.

“I’m going to publish it,” Patrick says. “It’s not really my section of the paper, being the hockey guy, but this is, like, this is my story. Well, it’s yours, and whoever the football player is, but you know what I mean.”

Frank thinks about it, feels dumbfounded. He inspired someone. All he wanted was for other gay sports players to feel a little less alone, and he made a football player feel less alone. He did something. The article did something, even thought it caused him so much pain.

So many terrible things have happened because of that article, things he’s never going to live down. There’s a sort of sinking inside of him when Frank starts thinking about that. It just brings it all back. Frank was raped. That happened. He had something taken away from him, and he can never have that back. Morgan took his sense of safety, a certain portion of his ability to be happy, and he gave him a new type of fear. The worst thing that has ever happened to him wouldn’t have happened without that article.

Even if Frank could forgive himself for allowing that article to be published, even if he could come to grips with what happened to him because of it, he can never get over what happened to Brendon. What happened to Brendon would never have happened if it hadn’t been for Frank.

He hates to admit it, but what happened to him was his own fault. No, he didn’t make Morgan a monster, he didn’t ask to be raped. It’s not his fault that what happened to him happened, but it’s his own fault that he put himself into a situation where it did happen. Now obviously, Frank knows that both of those things are wrong. None of this was his fault. The very idea that he could think it was his fault goes to show how fucked up his society is. But he also can’t escape the fact that he did cause it to happen. It’s stupid. Frank has always preached the idea of not victim blaming, but here he is, a victim, blaming himself.

What if what happened to Frank happens to this football player? What if there’s another Morgan on the football team? What if everything falls into place to ruin someone else’s life? Frank has already ruined enough lives as it is. What happened to Brendon was his fault. What happened to him was his fault. Frank made a big mistake with that article, even if his intentions were pure. But he isn’t going to let that mistake keep on tumbling.

“You can’t publish it,” Frank says, after thinking all of these thoughts in the span of only a few seconds. Yes, the article achieved what it needed to achieve, but maybe it can just stay the way it is. It can be a silent helper. People don’t need to make big deals out of it like the article became in the first place. Let it be seen, let it be understood, but let it live silently.

“What?” Patrick asks. “Why not?”

“You just can’t. Don’t you remember how evil M-, how evil M-Mor-Morgan got afterwards? He like…” Frank tries to find the words he needs to say without telling Patrick what happened. “He was like, he tried to eat me alive. Brendon too. He was like, he was evil.”

“Morgan’s not a football player, Frank.”

“No, but who says he’s not about to seek revenge on them as well? He’s a shark, Patrick, if he smells blood, he will come. And even if it’s not him, there could be more of him on the football team. What if football Morgan sees that article and decides to prey on other football players? He is a bad guy, Patrick, but he’s not alone. They are people like him everywhere, that’s why Pete and I can’t even come out, because there are bad people like him who lurk around every corner. And sports players? They’re some of the most backwards people in the country.” It’s all testosterone and manliness for sports players, which is fucking tedious. It’s the reason why Frank also can’t be a figure skater, because figure skating just isn’t aggressive enough for a man to play it.

“Oh come on, Morgan’s mean, but he’s not, like, going to beat people up. That’s not going to happen.”

“Really?” Frank asks him, pretending to not feel traumatized right now, which he will be able to let out later when he falls into Gerard’s arms. It’s not like he thinks Patrick is stupid, but Patrick is being incredibly stupid right now. Has he not seen Morgan? Does he truly believe that someone like Morgan isn’t afraid of beating someone up? Or worse?

“He… wait, did he beat you up, Frank?” Patrick asks, looking scandalized. He doesn’t even know how much worse it was. And he never will, Frank tells himself.

“Patrick, he’s not just a bully. He’s… worse than that.”

“Frank, if he beat you up, you have to tell Coach. If he hurt any of you guys, you have to tell coach.”

“We both know how Coach is. Until someone’s murdered, no one is being kicked off the team, and even if someone is murdered, she’d need a video of him committing the murder to kick him off.”

“She’s stubborn, yes, but if he hurt you, Frank-”

“Nothing happened, Patrick,” Frank lies. “He just… it doesn’t matter.” It matters a lot.

Patrick makes a frustrated sound, and looks at Frank intently, almost angrily, which is a shock because Frank has never seen that look from Patrick. “If he hurt you, you have to tell-”

“I’m not talking about this, Patrick. Don’t publish the article.” It’s enough to shut Patrick down. He goes through a range of emotions on his face, but he settles with a sigh. There’s a lot of sadness and horrified curiosity on his face. Patrick can tell Frank is lying, but he just thinks Frank is lying about Morgan beating him up. He doesn’t know just how bad of a person Morgan really is. What would he think if he did know?

There are a lot of people who won’t believe him if he ever tells. Frank is a boy. He is a sports player. He is strong. He may not be that big, but he’s strong enough that he should be able to ward off an attacker. No one like him could ever have that happen to him, not by one person. And boys don’t get raped anyway. That’s only something that happens to girls. The last person on earth who could have this happen to them is Frank.

If he were to tell, people might not even believe him. What would his teammates think? What would the police even say? Frank is gay. A man assaulted him. How are they supposed to know it wasn’t consensual? It’s stupid. He needs to stop blaming himself. He didn’t want it. But other people may not see it that way.

Patrick isn’t that person, though. Patrick would hear him out. Patrick would understand. Patrick would feel sorry for him, but he’d still know that Frank was telling him the truth. Frank’s never truly seen an angry Patrick. What would happen if he did know? Gerard had been about ready to kill Morgan, and honestly, there’s no saying whether Gerard actually would have committed homicide if Frank hadn’t held him back. How would Patrick react to the same knowledge? They always say that it’s the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for.

But Frank is just so ashamed. Maybe someday he won’t be. Maybe someday he’ll stop feeling unclean. Someday he’ll stop feeling like there are traces of Morgan on him everywhere. He just doesn’t want people to look at him and think of him as lesser because of what happened. He is not going to be the victim that everyone sees. He does not want to be a statistic.

“Frank,” Patrick says. “I really hate this. I think that it would be important for other people to know about this football player. Afterall, your goal was to inspire people, and you did that. You inspired this person, and he might be able to inspire someone else, and so on.”

“Patrick-”

“But I won’t publish it. I don’t like it, but I accept it. At the end of the day, it is more your article than it is mine. It’s you who was put on the line, and it’s you who had to face Morgan after he decided to be a homophobic piece of crap. If you’re afraid it’ll happen to someone else, then I’m not going to put you into a position where you hold yourself responsible for it.”

“Patrick,” Frank says, and looks into Patrick’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I know you don’t want a lecture, but Coach isn’t your only option. Obviously, you know you can talk to Gerard, but he doesn’t have that much power, which is why you might think there’s nothing you can do. But Coach has a boss too, there’s a whole athletics department above her head. I’m not going to pretend to be Coach’s biggest fan. We all know she’s been putting up with more than she should for a really long time.”

“I appreciate it, Patrick, but I’m fine. Really,” Frank hates the way that those words taste in his mouth. Obviously, he’s not fine, why should he ever make himself say it? He had the unspeakable happen to him and only two people in the entire world know. It’s really fucking hard.

It feels like he’s never going to get over it. He watched so many goddamn episodes of SVU in high school, and he always knew how fucked up it was, but it wasn’t like it was anything he had to worry about. He’s fallen into all of the same delusions that would prevent him from accepting himself. Because, before this happened to him, he doesn’t know how he’d have reacted if someone he knew told him it had happened to them.

Someone once said that rape is like soul murder. Is that what happened to him? Did his soul get murdered? Is that why he feels so hollow?

He knows he’s drifting again. Maybe this is what that word dissociate means. He’s heard it thrown around for a few years now, and never thought to figure out what it meant, but this must be it. He doesn’t really belong entirely to himself anymore, and maybe he never did, but he thinks part of him has been severed. Like Morgan took part of him when he left Frank lying on that locker room floor.

His phone buzzes, so he’s not totally aware that Patrick is staring at him. Frank absentmindedly looks at his phone.

It’s Gerard. Like a finger snap, Frank realizes something. He can’t possibly be hollow. Because if he was, Gerard wouldn’t make him feel like this. He wouldn’t feel his warmth the way he does, even when Gerard is wherever the fuck he is right now instead of holding Frank. How could he be hollow when he has Gerard?

Fuck, and he’s got his mom too. He’s got Hayley. He’s got Ray, Pete, Mikey, and sitting right in front of him, he’s got Patrick. Patrick has always been here for him. When Pete broke up with him because he thought Patrick had written that article about him, Patrick had had his back, even at the cost of what is surely one of the most important things in his life. Pete has never ever failed to make Frank feel at home and welcomed, to make him laugh even when he didn’t feel like laughing. Ray has supported him even though he didn’t know what was wrong with him, has been the best roommate he could’ve asked for. Mikey has somehow managed to defend Frank a dozen or so times, and he’s not sure if Mikey’s been doing it on purpose, or if that’s just who he is. He’s got so many goddamn friends and people who care about him, and he wishes that they could all make him feel better, but they’re doing their best. Everyone, everyone he knows. They’re helping. He’d be a liar to say they’re not helping. Sad, yes, he might always be, but getting better? He wouldn’t be without all of these people in his life.

He opens the text from Gerard, because that’s the one person in the world right now, who can always cheer him up, even if it’s almost nothing. Gerard makes the coffee a little less bitter.

Frank can read the text in Gerard’s voice without any trouble. God, the sound of Gerard’s voice. “my brother is either the smartest or the craziest person in the world, ill tell u all about it later when i see u and kiss ur pretty face. also i was thinking about how u have a tattoo and i think that’s hot. xoxo”

Frank smiles, he tries to keep it to himself, but he smiles. How is he supposed to suppress a smile when Gerard texts him things like that? How can anyone not be in love with this man? How awful must your childhood have been to not immediately fall in love with Gerard?

“Is that Gerard?” Patrick asks, and Frank looks up, a little confused as to how he could’ve guessed it was Gerard. He’s sitting across from him, there’s no possible way for Patrick to have even seen his phone.

“Uh.”

“Okay, so there’s another thing we should talk about then,” Patrick says determinately, as he looks at Frank’s confused expression. Maybe he just wants to change the subject because Frank is kind of upset about it, but whatever it is, Patrick looks very resolute about whatever he’s about to say.

“Which is?”

“You’re dating Gerard Way.”

“I’m what?”

Notes