What happens when the young Gerard decides that his comic book artist job is worthless, and decides to change? And what he decides isn't the change that brought us My Chemical Romance? Sad oneshot,...
A/N- ONE-SHOT FILLED WITH SADNESS!!!! YAY!!!! giggles No, I am not depressed. Maybe. Ha, just kidding. This is a definite AU, and I have no idea where this baby came from. None whatsoever. Italics=/flashback. /So, yeah. Dedicated to aiIenzo, 'cause the way you spell her name is A-W-E-S-O-M-E. Also dedicated to any soldier that has lost his or her life in the War against Terror. So, enjoy...
Every morning, Frank woke up before dawn. It was his routine. The last thing on this world keeping him sane.
His alarm would go off, and he'd stare at it for about a second, before shutting it off and throwing the thin covers off of his body. Who cared that it was winter? Who cared that the heater broke a week ago? He deserved the cold. Besides, when Gerard came home, he'd be warm again. With or without heaters.
He'd crawl out of bed and wrap Gerard's black robe around himself. Even after two years, Frank swore that it still smelled like Gerard. Every morning, Frank would bring the arm up to his nose, and breathe deeply. It smelled like cigarettes and coffee. The nicotine didn't bother Frank. The smell was...Gerard. Plain and simple. Familiar.
Then, Frank would walk slowly into the living room, wincing at the cold wooden floor, and draw back the bay window's curtain. He'd watch the orange sun rise, and reminisce. He'd hope and dream for Gerard to come home, safe and sound.
This ritual had started three days after Gerard left. Frank had really started to miss the young artist then, and was searching for any possible way to be closer to Gerard. Then, he had remembered the morning he's woken up to find the bed he shared with Gerard painfully empty.
After searching, he had found the artist standing in the living room, staring out the window into the morning mist with a wistful look on his face.
"Baby," Frank had said groggily, coming up from behind and placing a hand on Gerard's shoulder. "What are you doin'? It's really early, come back to bed."
Gerard didn't turn away from the window. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, his breath making a little fog appear and then disappear in a steady rhythm.
"I don't wanna," he murmured. Frank blinked, confused.
"How come? I have school in a couple hours; you gotta get on the ferry to go to work. You know, to make your little comic books."
Gerard smiled grimly.
"What if just sitting at a desk is not the kind of an impact I'd like to make? I'm not saving lives, not changing anyone's thoughts about life. What if I want to make a difference?"
Now poor Frank was really confused. He dropped his arm back down to his side and stared at Gerard blankly.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, confusion etched across his features.
Gerard turned away from the window, and looked Frank in the eye. His hazel eyes were misted over, but determined.
"I have no purpose right now. Drawing minuscule and probably never going to be published comic books is not what I had in mind when I graduated from art school. Frank, I have an idea of what I'm going to do with my life, but..."
His voice trailed off as his gaze dropped. Frank went pale.
"Ba...baby, what...what is it? You...you're not going to try and...and kill yourself, are you?"
Gerard burst out laughing.
"Nah, no, babe, that's not gonna happen any time soon."
Frank nodded and bit his lip, trying to read Gerard's mind. It was hard with Gerard always being so damn secretive and just plain annoying.
"Well?" Frank urged after a moment of silence.
"What? Oh, yeah," Gerard murmured, running a hand through his long black hair. "Frank...I've put a lot of thought into this and...I want to join the army."
Frank blinked. He blinked again, and looked at the ground. He looked out the window, at the couch, at the annoying neighbor walking her dog, at that coffee stain on the beige carpet that wouldn't come out, anywhere but Gerard's approval-seeking face.
"Frank...," Gerard said softly, tears obvious in his voice. "Come on, baby. Look at me. What do you think?"
Frank didn't look at him.
Still staring at the floor, he said, "You...you're f*king kidding me, right? Gerard...the gddamn army? Gerard...people die in the army. I mean, the f**king Twin Towers went down a week ago!"
"Yeah, and I watched the bodies fall! I want to make a difference!" Gerard shouted, tears running down his face.
"Well, you won't make a difference if you're dead," Frank hissed, grabbing Gerard's arm.
"I won't die, Frank! I promise you. I'll come home safe, I promise!" Gerard cried. Frank released Gerard's arm and looked at the floor, shuffling his foot.
"Promise?" he asked quietly. Gerard smiled and kissed him on the lips. No tongue, just a simple, sweet kiss.
Frank remembered that sweet, little kiss. He came to this window, this spot where it took place to remember his lover better. Not that he could forget the introverted genius very easily.
This morning, Frank leaned against the window, resting his forehead against the glass much like Gerard had done that fateful morning.
Gerard had left for training two weeks later. There had been much tears on both of their parts, but it was Frank who refused to let go.
Frank clung to Gerard, crying. Gerard was crying softly too, not wanting to leave so soon.
"Baby...baby, I gotta go," Gerard mumbled, as the plane's boarding call went up. He was flying to North Dakota for training, and then hopefully, he wouldn't be sent to Iraq. Hopefully.
Frank didn't unwrap his arms from Gerard's neck.
Instead, he cried, "Why are you leaving me?"
"I told you already, sweetheart. I wanna make a difference," Gerard said, kissing Frank's forehead and prying the smaller man off of him.
Frank rubbed his face and stared into Gerard's eyes.
"Promise me that you'll come home safe?"
"Promise," he grinned, kissing Frank on the lips the same way he did that morning two weeks ago. He shifted the bag on his shoulder, and turned on his heel.
And then, he walked away, into the darkness of the unknown future.
Frank sighed, suddenly longing for a cup of coffee. Not just any coffee, though. Coffee made by Gerard. It seemed that coffee addicts always made the best coffee.
He sighed again, deciding that drinking coffee would only make his heart hurt worse. And if his heart hurt worse, he'd have to rip it out to stop the pain. Even though it would probably hurt more to rip out his heart. And technically, he'd be dead.
Frank stood there, musing on which one would hurt worse, when he noticed a black car drive up and park in front of his house.
He cocked his head, confused. Who the hell would be visiting at this hour? It was only like five in the morning.
The driver's door opened, and out stepped a man in a military uniform.
A man that wasn't Gerard.
Frank's breath caught in his throat, and he felt his eyes fill with tears. He knew why this man was here.
His only thought was, 'You promised me, Gerard.'
It was around seven o'clock on a Tuesday when the phone rang suddenly.
Frank, who had been studying for a big exam coming up at college, groaned, slamming his book shut.
"Hello?" he growled into the receiver, annoyed at the interruption.
"Frankie, sweetie, what's wrong?" the voice asked sweetly, his voice shaking slightly.
"Oh, damn Gerard, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I was just studying and-."There was a soft sniffle on the other end, and Frank stopped speaking.
"Babe, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly.
Gerard swallowed hard, and exclaimed, "I'm being shipped out to Afghanistan!"
Frank heart dropped.
"Baby, promise me that you'll com back home to me."
Gerard laughed quietly, and said softly, "I promise you Frankie, I'll return to you. We'll get married, and move to some random ass island somewhere, and adopt lots of kids and we'll grow old together."
Frank laughed and said, "I love you, Gerard. I love you so much."
"I love you, too."
There was a powerful knock on the door, and Frank warily crept over to the door. He pulled it open just so he could stick his head outside and look the man up and down.
"Yes?" Frank asked softly.
The man sighed and took off his hat.
"I'm very sorry sir, but I have some bad news. There was a suicide bomber, and Sergeant Gerard Way was killed..."
The man went on, explaining the situation and informing Frank of the nation's regrets for his loss and so on and so forth.
Frank stopped listening to what the man was saying after he said the words Frank had never wanted to hear. Ever.
He couldn't cry. The tears wouldn't come. The only man Frank had ever loved, the first boy Frank had ever kissed, made love to, cried in front of, held close during the night, the only person that kept Frank alive was never coming home.
Frank wasn't sure that he could carry on.
But he was pretty sure that tearing out his heart would be less painful at this point.
"Mr. Iero?" the man asked, breaking into Frank's thoughts.
"Huh?" Frank looked at the man, willing him away so that he could go to sleep and never wake up.
"Here are Sergeant Way's personal affects," the man said, holding out a small box.
Frank took it, chewing on his bottom lip. Metallic liquid filled his mouth, but he could care less.
"What of the...remains?" Frank asked, wincing.
The man sighed.
"I'm sorry, sir. All they found was an arm and his dog tags."
Frank squeezed his eyes shut, clutching the door for support.
"Oh Jesus," he muttered, tears finally starting to roll down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry sir," the man repeated, before turning and walking down the walkway to his sleek black car.
Frank stared at the man for a moment, before turning and slamming the door shut with all his might. He let out an anguish filled cry, sliding to the floor and clutching the box to his chest.
"You promised me, Gerard! You're a liar!" he screamed at the ceiling, suddenly realizing that it didn't hurt missing someone until you realized that you were never going to see them again. Ever.
He just sat there, sobbing for a few seconds or hours, before remembering the box.
Frank shakily reached down and pulled open the box. Renewed tears filled his eyes as he saw what was in the box.
It was the silver ring that Frank had bought Gerard for their second anniversary. It was custom made, with a black rose with silver outlining on top, and silver thorns intertwining to make the band.
Gerard loved that ring.
Frank bit his lips, curling his fingers around the ring tightly.
"YOU'RE A LIAR!!!!" he screamed, flinging the ring across the room angrily,
And then, he collapsed sobbing on the floor, a pathetic mess of skin and bones.
A week later, there was a memorial service in Belleview, New Jersey, their hometown.
Frank was the third person to take the podium, after Gerard's mother and his brother.
He cleared his throat and sniffled, pulling out the crumpled paper where he'd written the eulogy.
Staring at the paper, he immediately crumpled the paper and threw it over his shoulder.
Then, he looked at the tearstained faces of the crowd.
"Well, I had a whole speech written out, but I know Gerard always hated to do things beforehand- he liked to procrastinate- so why not do his eulogy spontaneously? Plus, my speech was so damned sad it would've made me cry /again/. We all know that we're tired of the tears."
All of you who knew Gerard personally would know of the many times he's complained about funerals being too sad. Gerard, even though he had a strange obsession with the morbid and the macabre, was a pretty optimistic person, despite the contradiction that statement just held."
He was a smart, sweet, loving person, who just wanted to make a difference. I don't know if he actually made one out there in the war, but I know for sure that he changed my life, and everyone's life that he was around."
He was a beautiful person, inside and out. He lit up a room, even though he usually hid out in the back and watched everyone else get drunk and act stupid. Including me. But he was a great person. He didn't deserve to die this young. No one does."
Frank bit his lip, trying not to cry.
"I love Gerard, and I always will. He'll always be with us forever, in our hearts and souls. He promised me that."
And then, Frank broke down.
But this time, he would get up and carry on. That would be what Gerard would have wanted.
A/N- Oh snap, that was sad. sniffles Please review, I beggeth of thou. REVIEW!!!!!