THE END. plus some heartfelt apologies.
screw that, its shit.
so, i decided to finish this story once and for all. im sorry if the ending is total shit (which it is because i literally finished it in about 45 minutes, but whatever) but i feel it is an acceptable place to end and whatnot. i am so sorry for keeping you for so long and i am a horrible person i know. as for my other fic, i am no longer going to be continuing it (because its shit) but i have made myself a livejournal and i am currently writing what appears to be an extremely long ryden fic. and im pretty proud of it, its way better than the shit ive posted on here, seriously. my livejournal will be exclusively Panic! i do believe, so if you want any more frerard from me, i apologize profusely.
so, here is the end of my short reign on ficwad! thank you so much for every single comment, some have made me cry. you guys are awesome,and i wish you all the best. if any of you want a link to my livejournal, please leave a comment. i love you all, so, so much.
also, just to make you guys insanely jealous, i went to a Used concert a couple of weeks ago and it was awesome, and i caught Jephas water bottle, and now i dont know what to do with it. but yeah, i have drunk water which Jephas mouth has been on. fuck yeah. oh and the concert was one of the best i have ever been to in my life, if you have the chance to go, go. its so worth it. SO WORTH IT, GUYS.
for the last time:*
I stayed at home. I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. What I did do was live, and I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to do that. Mikey had got home an hour after Frank had left, taken one look at me, and forcefully lifted me onto my bed so we could watch a film. I tried to get into it, I really did, but I just couldn’t. All that was going through my head was how I had spoken to Frank, how I had completely messed up, how I was the only one to blame.
Mikey, realising that I really wasn’t in the mood; quietly left the room. I was thankful that I had such an understanding brother. He may have been shitty sometimes, and downright scary in others, but in the end he was the best thing I could hope for.
I had known, as soon as Frank had left my room, that I had overreacted, and that I shouldn’t have said anything. Because, the thing was, was that I needed Frank. I hadn't realised it, but it was true. Frank was my rock; he kept me stable and able to carry on with life. Without him, I was nothing.
Which was why, when I arrived at school on Monday morning, sleep and food deprived, I set out to find him.
He was easier to find than I expected. Standing out the front of the school with Brendon, Bob, Ray, and surprisingly, Ryan. Brendon had his arm wrapped round Ryan’s skinny waist and was laughing hysterically at something Bob had just said. I slowly made my way up to the shut off group, my eyes wandering behind me to find Mikey’s encouraging smile. He did smile, the widened his eyes to tell me to look back where I was going.
My eyes snapped forward to see Frank and his group not talking, and every single pair of eyes fixed on me. I hated attention like this.
“What are you doing here Gerard?” Frank asked quietly, and I flinched at the sound of his voice. I was so dead. I shouldn’t be here, I've hurt him and I don’t deserve him.
None of that came out of my mouth though. Instead, what I said was “Can I talk to you for a bit, Frank? In private?”
Frank looked a little stunned that I had been so forward with him. He just nodded mutely, and nodded at Ray, who immediately began an awkward conversation about comic book heroes.
Frank walked along beside me, close, but not close enough to have any skin to skin contact. I felt so fucking bad that I had made Frank feel like he couldn’t even touch me anymore. I missed Frank. The past two days had been such hell. I missed Frank more than I thought I could ever miss any one who wasn’t my brother. Frank had only been a part of my life for a little less than three months, but I didn’t know what I would do without him. No, I did know what I would do without him. I would collapse within myself, until I was nothing left but an empty husk, devoid of any emotion.
I had missed him more than I thought I could ever miss anyone.
I trusted him; that was the reason why I missed him. I hadn’t realised how much I trusted Frank, until Frank wasn’t there for me to trust. I needed Frank. I needed him.
We rounded the edge of the school, by the cafeteria, where a couple of mangled bicycles sat in the disused bicycle shed. Frank leant against the wood, his other hand fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette. He took out the little bag of tobacco, the paper and the filter, and proceeded to roll a cigarette in front of me, without once looking me in the eye. I patiently waited until the tip was glowing before I spoke.
“I'm sorry Frank. Really, I am.” The words sounded mechanical, and overused. How any time had I said those very words before in my life? They sounded wrong, and I hated it.
Frank nodded, head down, smoke curling around his head.
I tried again. “I know I overreacted. I know that I have issues. I am aware of that. I need help, Frank. I need you.”
Frank's head shot up, and he looked me right in the eye, searching me for any sign of lies or unhappiness. I was telling the truth. I did need him. I needed him like nothing else. I needed him to help me.
“Frank. I want you to help me. I want every single part of you to realise that I actually don’t want to push you away, no matter what bullshit my mouth might say. I'm sorry.” I know I sounded desperate. I knew it, yet I still carried on. Frank was staring at me now, cigarette forgotten. He looked surprised, mostly, but I thought I could catch a glimpse of relief and pure, undiluted adoration.
“What do I have to do to make you better Gerard?” The words were soft and simple.
I sighed. This was it. “You only have to listen. I-”
I choked off my reply. Was I really sure about this? Was I absolutely certain this was what I should do? Frank stared at me, hastily dropping the remains of the mostly unsmoked cigarette and crushing it with his heel. He reached out and touched me lightly on the arm, stroking lightly. I had missed his touch. That was it; that was all the confirmation I needed. If I could yearn for Frank's touch, then Frank deserved to know what I was about to tell him. He was worth it.
“I want to tell you about when I was raped.”
Frank's hand froze, and he literally gaped at me. His mouth hanging wide open. But I was calm. I knew what I was doing.
“Why?” Frank choked out, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. He looked so absolutely stunned that I would tell him such a thing. To be honest, it was scarier for me than it was for him. But I could do this. I wanted to do it. I anted to show him how much he really meant to me.
“Because I know that admitting what happened is the first step to getting better; and I want the first person to know exactly what happened to be you.”
Frank's entire face lit up. It was like an entire solar system was contained within his eyes, and his smile; and I loved it. His expression darkened for a moment, but I placed my finger gently on his lips before he could say anything.
“I don’t want to tell you here, at school. Can we go somewhere else?”
Frank nodded. “Let’s get out of here.” He replied. Hesitantly, he held out his hand. I shook my head slightly at his uncertainty and grabbed his hand, revelling at the feel of the warm dry hands, the calloused fingertips interlinking with mine. I had missed him.
We sat in Frank's room, both of us cross-legged on his bed. He was leant back on the headboard; I was sat halfway down the bed, facing him. Frank was idly tracing the patterns of his bedcovers, and I knew that he had no idea what to say or what to do. It was nice seeing someone look as uncomfortable and confused as I felt most days.
But I didn’t feel like it now. I just felt relief that I was finally going to tell someone what had happened to me all those years ago. I hadn’t even told Mikey, not the hardcore facts.
“So.” The one word was enough for Frank's shoulders to tense. “Do you want me to tell you?” I asked. I hadn't actually thought about that until now. What if he didn’t want to hear what had happened to me? What if he thought it was a mistake to tell him about me and what happened? What if-
“Of course I want you to tell me!” Frank blurted out, blushing slightly at the overeager tone in his voice. “Of course. Of course I want to hear if you think it will help.” He added, more quietly.
I sighed. I wanted this, right? I knew what I was doing. I was going to do this the right way.
“Okay.” I said, exhaling slowly. “When I was ten my father got into a lot of debt. He was a gambler, you see? At first he used to do it for fun, and it was alright. Sometimes he used to take me and Mikes along to the casino so we could have a go on the quarter machines. It was fun, I always enjoyed it. Then it got worse.” I shuddered. “So, so much worse. He started playing seriously, even though we didn’t have the money. He couldn’t stop. He was addicted, and it was sickening. It was taking over his life, shit, it was what he lived for. He lost his job because he was out every night and he slept in the next morning. Mum used had to get a second job, just so that we could stay in the same house. We weren’t a family anymore, not really. It was us and him.”
I stopped, trying to swallow past the lump that suddenly seemed to choke me. I remembered what it was like back then. The constant arguments between my parents, dad sitting bleary eyed at the dinner table, nursing a whisky before he left once again. Frank grabbed my hand and started to massage the palm gently with the pad of his thumb. I liked it. It kept me grounded.
“Then, one day he came home so angry and afraid. He wouldn’t speak to anybody, but we knew something was up. It was so obvious, he couldn’t stop shaking. Then, at about four in the morning he came into my room. He hadn't woken anybody up, just me. He told me that he needed my help because he had gotten into a mess and I was the only one who could fix it. I detested my dad, but I still wanted to help him, you know? I still loved him.
“I agreed to help and then he got me up then and there and dressed me. I had no idea what was going on, but he just told me to be quiet and said that it was our little secret. I couldn’t even tell my own mother. Then we went to the casino. I was fucking ten years old Frank, I didn’t know what was going on. My own father had sold me out because he didn’t have the means to pay it himself.”
I broke off, realising that I was crying. I hadn't meant to cry, but sometimes memories are just too much. Frank had wet cheeks.
“Every week for the next couple of years my dad would take me to a place and then fuck off, leaving me with the guys he owed money to. It hurt so much. It… It was so horrible. I can't describe it. They were so harsh, they used me. I wasn’t much more than a plaything to them. I dreaded every week id have to go, so much so that my dad would sometimes give me sleeping pills so that I wouldn’t wake up until I was already there. Dad threatened me whenever I said I was gonna talk to mum about it, and I believed him. I believed that he would hurt me. He already had.”
I reached out for Frank and he pulled me to him, cradling me with his arms. The gesture was so intimate, yet completely non-sexual and I melted into him. He rocked me back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
“I was always fat; I was a pretty overweight child. And they used to torment me, shout out abuse while they did it. I believed them. They were the only ones I thought who had an honest opinion of me because they saw me naked. They said such horrible things…” I gasped out, choking on air.
“I stopped eating. I was fat, I am fat. I didn’t want people to look at me and see the chubby guy. I know that it wasn’t the most conventional method of losing weight, but… But I was pretty messed up back then. I still am messed up. Then one day I had to tell somebody. I couldn’t go on like I had anymore. I told Mikey, and together we told my mum. My dad is in prison, lifetime sentence because of me.”
I faltered. I didn’t know what else to say. I felt completely empty; like everything had been expelled from me and that I had nothing more to put out. I had nothing more to say.
Frank was silent, and I had nothing more to give. We sat there, in the quiet, just feeling each other breathe.
It must have been a lifetime later before Frank pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“Gerard Way,” He whispered, breath warming my earlobe. “You are the bravest person I have ever met. I love you so much.”
And in that moment, that one glorious moment I believed him.
And in that same moment, the one moment where I felt so exhausted and wrung out, I knew that everything was going to be okay.
[*And... that's it! i hope you enjoyed it! there wont be a sequel, and i wont write any more of this, i just hoped you liked it. this fic has been a great source of personal dilemma for me, as well as a great chance to not do homework, and i enjoyed writing it, i really did. you guys carry on the good writing, and i look forward to reading your masterpieces later in life!
there's one more thing i have left to say here:
so long and goodnight, you motherfuckers.