Frerard oneshot. If Frank dies, will Gerard stop breathing? Not for the faint of heart.
Disclaimer: Don't own MCR. Never have, and sadly never will. This story isn't true. I am sorry that LynZ always seems to be the bad guy, but that's just the way it happens sometimes.
I don't want to give anything away, but this is NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. It's very depressing. If you want something happy, read "I'm the only friend that makes you cry." It's happier, at least. Or go read some fluff. I will not judge you.
100% Gerard's POV
I sat alone in my dark house, staring at the tears falling on the carpet. This can't be happening.
After the fiftieth fruitless search through the neighborhood, I was forced to conclude that the note she left was all I had left of her.
Dear Gerard, it read in a drunken scrawl, They barely let me wreit this note befour they took mee away. They says im a danjur to others and I have to go to a mental hosspital. Ill get out asap and you and mee can run away from them. LynZ.
The ink was already running from where tears had hit it, even though it had barely been six hours since I arrived from band practice. I crumpled the note in my hands. I had noticed every detail: how her spelling was far worse than it had once been, the anger in the angular letters...I could almost see her scribbling this with red eyes, while two faceless strangers held a straightjacket...
LynZ had never even considered doing drugs. Or smoking, or having more than one beer per night. Never had she snorted cocaine, injected heroine, or been to a bar more than three times a year. All of those things were things I had done, things I was responsible for. And it drove her mad. This was my fault.
I didn't know how, or why, but suddenly there was a blade in my hand. Without realizing I was doing it, I was pushing the sleeves of my tearstained shirt up, and only when the sharp, stinging pain of the blade pierced me did I realize what was happening. I was going back down that road, that road that not even LynZ helped me get back from. The one who had gotten me back on track was...
When I thought his name, the cut that followed was thrice as painful.
I could almost hear his voice...
Actually, I could hear his voice.
"Hey, Gerard?" Frank yelled, opening the door without knocking. "Hey, can I borrow some..." He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. I saw his jaw drop. "Shit," he murmured before rushing over to me.
In a flash he had the blade out of my hand. I didn't even bother to fight as he dressed my wounds; I simply sat there while he worked, staring at the floor. He didn't say anything until he was done.
I heard him sit in front of me. "Gerard, look at me," he said quietly but firmly. I didn't.
He lifted my chin up with his left hand so I was forced to look into his hazel eyes. We sat there for a few moments, but those few moments were a few of the most life-changing moments for me: old feelings rekindled inside me, not quite as a passionate burning flame, but as a ray of hope in my sadness.
Not that those feelings hadn't ever shown themselves before; however, every time they reared their ugly heads, they inevitably led to heartbreak. So I had given up on those feelings for LynZ, whom I had come to love; though, it had never seemed like the right way, and my heart always yearned for him.
"Gerard..." he murmured. "Why did you do this?"
Without saying a word I picked up the note and pressed it into his hand. He pulled his hand away from me to carefully un-crumple it.
When he had finished reading, he said, "I'm so sorry, Gerard." He looked at me with unimaginable agony in his eyes, and suddenly I was sobbing. I felt stupid, ashamed, to be crying in front of him, but he pulled my head into his lap. He stroked my hair and told me that it would be okay. I failed to see his logic.
He pulled me so I was sitting upright, but still leaning back against him. I was sort of in his lap, with the back of my head against his chest. I had stopped sobbing loudly, but silent tears still ran down my face.
It was strange, because I knew these tears were not for LynZ. They were not for myself or for any of my friends, but for the man now holding me. For what I could never have.
"I love you," I heard someone say. I then realized it had been me. Shitfuck.
Now everything was ruined! All those years of wanting, dreaming, all obliterated by eight stupid letters! Another sob wracked me, and my cheeks were burning. Why couldn't my brain keep what it wanted to say IN MY HEAD?
But then I realized that Frank was holding his breath, as if waiting for a response. It was not just I who had said it, but...both of us at the same time...
I slowly turned around to look at those bewitching eyes. His mouth slightly open, he was been wearing the same dumbstruck expression that must have been on my face. His face turned ghostly pale, then bright red. "I-I-"
Without warning, my hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair and I slammed my lips into his. His lips meshed with mine perfectly, as if they were specifically designed for each other. I felt his whole body tense, sucking in a surprised gasp of air, and for a moment I was worried he was going to push me away.
Then, he sighed and wound his arms around my shoulders. My hands slid down to his waist. I pressed us closer together. We opened our mouths at the same time, and our tongues had a fierce battle for dominance. He won. I couldn't suppress a moan as I felt his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth.
He broke away to stare at me with his big, wild green eyes. When we were apart, the yearning I felt for him was almost unendurable. I felt a flood of relief when he dove in again, kissing me even harder.
I slipped my hands up his shirt, wanting to feel every inch of his smooth pale skin. I broke away from his lips only to run my lips along his jawline. I kissed all the way down his neck, lingering on his clavicle to suck on it and make him moan raggedly into the silence. When my lips came to his shirt, he let me tug it over his head and we both knew where this was going.
I awoke the next morning feeling more rested than I had in months: Ever since LynZ had started going insane, I'd been sleeping worse and worse.
Frank and I had moved to the bedroom after the events of last night. I had awoken to find him in my arms, and that was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. He was still sleeping. Wanting not to wake him, I replayed last night in my head: every sound he made, every look of wild love that came into his eyes felt too good to be true.
"I love you," I whispered to him before kissing his hair. I might have been imagining it, but I thought I saw his lips twitch.
I lay there for what seemed like hours and seconds at the same time, and the low, steady sound of his breathing had almost lulled me back to sleep.
Suddenly, a door slammed downstairs. I sat bolt upright, listening. Surely that was impossible...the only other person with a key was LynZ, and she was in the loony bin.
Ill get out asap and you and mee can run away from them.
That line from the note rang in my ears at the precise moment I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Shit shit shit shit.
"Frank," I whispered urgently, shaking him. "Frank, someone's coming-"
"Whuzzat, Gerard?" he mumbled, turning over and blinking at me sleepily. He smiled. "Was dreamin bout you." Normally, I would have found the bleary-eyed Frank adorable. Given the situation, however, I wasn't finding anything cute.
"Frank-" But before I could get the rest of the sentence out, the door burst open and in came LynZ.
Her eyes were even more red than I remembered, and was it me, or were they slightly crossed? No, they weren't. She was wearing a ripped straightjacket. "Didn't, I tell you, Gee-" As she took in the scene around her, the vicious smile faded from her face. Frank was wide awake now, staring up at LynZ in horror.
"So," she said coldly. "I'm gone for less than a day, and you're already cheating. How...interesting." She looked as if she had a plethora of words she would have rather said than 'interesting.'
"LynZ..." I said. "How did you get out of there?"
"Irrelevant," she spat, eyes still fixed on Frank. Her face contorted, and I waited for the explosion.
It wasn't disappointing.
"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, YOU STUPID FAG!" she screamed at Frank. "I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! WHAT THE HELL?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON, HUH?!"
Frank stared openmouthed. "AFTER ALL THIS TIME, AFTER ALL THAT I THOUGHT YOU HAD HELPED HIM THROUGH, YOU WERE DOING IT FOR YOUR OWN GAIN! SO YOU COULD FUCK MY HUSBAND!"
"LynZ!" I shouted. In half a second I was on my feet, inches away from her. I wasn't wearing pants, but that didn't stop me. "Don't. You. Dare. Talk. To him. Like. That," I growled through my teeth. "Frank didn't do those things because he wanted to fuck me. And if I wanted to fuck just anybody, I have six million fans that I'm sure would be more than happy to oblige." I spat the words out.
"Oh!" she laughed. "So is this a confession?! Is Gerard Way finally coming out of the closet?! Seems a little late, considering you're, you know, MARRIED!"
I threw my hands up. "YES! Okay?! Closet, say goodbye to Gerard-Fucking-Way!! I'm a fucking faggot! Faggot, faggot, faggot, that's me!" There was no way I was going to let her win. "I'm a fucking emo fag with the hots for my best friend. Frerard is real, baby, and nothing you do will ever come between us! I love him. So you can run and tell that!" I got even more in her face.
She raised her hand and slapped me across the face. I stood there rubbing it for a few seconds, before I turned back to her. I could feel the hatred in my eyes.
"Well, fag," she said coolly. "You can take your little boyfriend and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!! 'CAUSE THERE ARE NO FAGS ALLOWED HERE!"
What?! "SINCE WHEN?!" I screamed.
"SINCE MY HUSBAND JOINED THEM!!"
Disgusted, I turned to Frank, who was staring with a dumbstruck expression. "Let's go, Frankie." He stood up and walked numbly at my side.
Our clothes were downstairs, so after we put them on, I closed the door behind us and left my torturous past behind.
We ended up at Frank's house.
After almost two hours of awkward silence, I couldn't take it anymore. Being almost overwhelmed by déjà vu, I said, "Frank, please look at me."
He turned slowly to me. It was dark in the room, and the window only cast light on half his face. I put my hand on the dark side. "Frank, I love you more than anything else in the universe. When you walk into a room, everything's brighter. If I had to choose you or the sun, the rest of the world would be pretty much screwed. I need you, and you taking me away from LynZ was the greatest thing you could have done for me."
He took a deep breath and said, "I just...I don't want to be the other guy."
I smiled and gave him a hug. "You're not. She's the other woman." He couldn't help but grin at that.
I pulled away to look in his eyes. I could look in his eyes for a long time and get lost in them. Our lips met, but it was softer this time. Sweeter. A kiss of love, not of desire.
The next morning, I woke up to find Frank next to me again. I grinned. This is how it'll always be, I thought happily. I got up to make some coffee, careful not to wake him.
After a fruitless search of his kitchen, I was forced to conclude that he had no coffee. This was unacceptable. I quickly wrote a note to Frank, saying that I had gone to Starbucks and would be back in about a half hour.
After an excellent mocha-frap-whipped cream thing that I forgot the name of, I walked back to Frank's house. It was such a nice day outside that I had decided to walk (plus, I didn't have Frank's car keys).
But as I walked back up the steps to his front door, the sun went behind a cloud. I felt a thrill of foreboding, as if the Dark Mark had been cast over our house.
When I placed my hand on the doorknob, I was almost afraid to open it. That was absurd; there was no reason for anything to be wrong.
I pushed open the door and called, "Frank?" No reply. Slowly, I walked up to our room. The door was closed as I had left it. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
There are no words for what I saw next.
My Frankie, my precious Frankie, was lying there on the bed in a sea of blood. There were bruises all over his body, and his arms and legs were tangled and twisted into the most unnatural position I had seen. His chest was not rising and falling.
Through his head was a clean bullet hole. He was shirtless, so I could see that four jagged letters were carved into his torso:
L Y N Z
"Oh my God, Frank!" I yelled, cold hands ripping through my chest. My Frankie...not my Frankie...
I ran over to him to feel his pulse. It wasn't there. No...no it couldn't be...
"Frank! Oh God, Frank, please wake up!" It was my fault; LynZ had done this to him, but I had done that to her...god, Frankie, no...
I cradled his head, not believing that he was a corpse. "Please, Frank, please, I love you!" I was sobbing now. I kissed his lips again and again, but nothing would restart his heart. I let out an earsplitting scream of agony.
I sat there for a few more minutes, crying and stroking his hair, refusing to believe he was gone. "Frank...please, no...no no no...Frankie, I love you more than life itself...please don't leave me..."
Suddenly, I heard his voice: Do you think the dead we love ever truly leave us?
It was more like a ghost of his voice, and I barely listened to it. I cried louder and louder, wanting so badly to reject the evidence of all my senses.
Suddenly, a lyric raced through my head:
Without you is how I disappear and live my life alone, forever now.
But it doesn't have to be that way, I thought. Looking around, I saw that dumbass LynZ had left her gun in the room. I knew what I had to do. Frank and I needed to be together forever.
Death comes in the form of our fondest memory.
I smiled. I picked up Frank and kissed him openmouthed on the lips. When I pulled away, another stab of pain shot through me when I realized that his eyes would never get that wild look in them again.
Not while we were living, anyway.
My fondest memory, I thought as I raised the gun to my head. That shouldn't be too hard to figure out.
I could see him clearly in front of me. He spread his arms wide and smiled invitingly. I beamed back and pulled the trigger.
Long live the Black Parade.
Well I write some depressing shit, huh?
So who wants to hear the story behind this story?!? Yeah, I do!!
So I was cleaning windows to earn money for GERMANY:) and I had my entire iPod on shuffle. Usually I have it on a playlist of about 100 songs (more than 50% of which are MCR), but that day I decided to put my entire iPod on shuffle. So when the song "Wake Up Call" by Maroon 5 came on my iPod, I listened to the lyrics and thought, "Hey, let's turn this into a Frerard." Cuz that's what everyone does when they hear a song, right? So this story was born.
I'm sorry if it made you cry. It made me bawl and sob and stuff.
So, I have an announcement to make: The story "I'm the only friend that makes you cry" (which is incorrectly capitalized and I need to fix that) is currently on hiatus. I'm sorry; I know how it's gonna end, but I need to think about what's gonna happen. There's gonna be at least 9 or 10 more chapters, but for now, it's on hiatus at least until I get back from Germany. In the meantime, I'll hopefully get started on some other projects and maybe post a few more oneshots (fluff, maybe. Something lighthearted).
So, for a summary, in case you never actually read my authors notes: This was based on "Wake Up Call" by Maroon 5; I cried; and "I'm the only friend that makes you cry" is on hiatus till at least June 12.
Also um OMG DID YOU WATCH GLEE ON TUESDAY.
that is all.
A/N WTF YOU GUYS ?!?!?! I thought you were cool!! I shouldn't have to tell you to R and R. That's a given. If you don't R and R, how in the world do you expect me to get better? If you don't R and R because it sucks, please tell me that. Tell me if it sucks or if it made you cry or want to stab kittens. Pleeeeeeeeze?? puppy dog eyes