FicWad

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, don't own the basic plot and quotes you recognise from Californication.

WARNINGS: This story is based on the television series "Californication", if you didn't like it or were offended by it, please do not read. I have changed a lot of the plot to suit my own wicked ways but it still includes a lot of swearing, alcohol and drug use, sex in every shape and form and some volgarity. Please do not read if this offends.

Chapter Nine - Eminem is a home wrecker

"So tell me again, why isn't Bob here?" Frank asked his two friends, trying to act as though he was truly hurt their old drummer hadn't given them the time of day.

"The girls are sick. Two sick babies, two adults; the wife is really keeping him chained to the house," Ray explained, shaking his afro about as though he had an itch he couldn't be bothered scratching.

"Wow Ray ... that hair man. I'm pretty sure it's time for a cut," Mikey said, his eyes fixated on the towering head of hair that seemed to be trying to engulf them all.

"I know right!" Frank chimed in excitedly, glad that somebody else finally noticed the problem.

It had been so long since they had all tried to get together like this. As was per usual, not everyone could make it. Bob was at home with his sick family; Gerard was swamped with a comic-book meet and Jack's parent teacher day. Lindsey was still in New York, so she clearly wasn't much help.

"How are you anyway Frank? Mikey's been telling me a lot of great things." Ray smiled kindly as though quite proud of him whilst Mikey just stared wide-eyed as though he wanted Ray to shut his mouth and not give it away that they discussed him in their phone calls.

"Is that all you guys do? Ring each other up and just talk about me. God, you're just lucky I have a life otherwise you two would really have nothing to discuss."

Frank wasn't angry, he actually found himself quite flattered that two of his friends talked about him in their discussions. He was sure it was mostly out of mutual concern for his well-being, but still, it was nice to be thought of.

"Still with the boy friend then? What's his name - er - Max was it?" Ray asked, glancing at Mikey for confirmation.

"Yeah that's him and yes, still with him," Frank stated simply. For some reason he really didn't feel like discussing Max at that moment.

"So, have you officially decided then? I mean, is it guys or girls?" Mikey raised the one question that Frank was often asked by his friends, the one question he hated being asked.

"Why settle for one side when I can have both? I feel sorry for you uncultured people, you have no idea what you're missing out on," Frank stated simply. Mikey scrunched up his face in distaste whilst Ray just laughed.

"I saw one of those 'sides' you're talking about a long time ago Frank, I still have nightmares about it. I'll stay one hundred percent straight thank you very much," Mikey said, shaking his head as his skin paled slightly.

Frank laughed softly at his friends words. Strange how lately they all seemed to be thinking over the same old memories. It was almost as though they were all watching the movie of their life and that morning they had all seen the scene from that hotel room so very long ago.

Ray shook his head as his eyes seemed to drift beyond a point any of them could actually see. Perhaps he to was remembering that fateful day. Frank still cringed inwardly whenever he thought back to it; he hated that he had cried in Ray's arms like a great big girl. Looking back, knowing what he knew now, there was plenty of reason to cry, but not for the reasons he did back then.

"Shit Frank, you know, no matter how hard I tried I still couldn't prepare myself for what you fucking said that day," Ray reminisced, head still cocked to the side as though he was daydreaming. "There's never any in between for you is there? It's to the extreme or not at all. Certainly never saw that one coming."

"Alright, let's not talk about that moment please, for the sake of what little sanity I have left," Mikey through in, sticking out his bottom lip slightly as he pouted.

Ray and Frank nodded, silently agreeing, but whilst they were on the subject, Frank knew he had to ask them both something quite relevant and extremely important. Much like with his relationship with Max, if he was ever going to try and fix things in the present, he needed to know where he went wrong in the past. This time it wasn't about relationships, it was about the band.

"Seriously though, I've got to ask. Was that the day that ruined it all? I mean, did we split the band?" Frank asked, preparing himself for the answer.

Mikey and Ray didn't look at each other, they didn't want confirmation, they wanted to decided for themselves. There was silence amongst the three friends as they all seemed to think it over. It was almost five years ago, they had all moved on, Frank knew he could handle the answer being yes, because he had already convinced himself it had been his fault all those many years ago.

"I'm not going to lie Frank, it certainly didn't bring us closer," Ray stated simply, running a hand through his massive hair. "I personally think we could have reacted better then we did, but it was just so unexpected. We were just trying to get into the swing of things again after our long break and I think that was just too much too soon. You guys knocked us all completely off balance, we didn't really have time to let it sink in."

Frank respected the answer; it was definitely the best he had heard in a long time. Still, it didn't take all that guilt away he still had wrapped up somewhere in his mind. It was like a Christmas present, just sitting there, stored to the side. It was one he knew he couldn't open, his path to self-destruction after everything that had happened wasn't one he really wanted to venture down again.

"I could have reacted differently," Mikey finally spoke up. It was blunt and emotionless, but Frank didn't need anything more from him. He didn't need Mikey to explain his actions; he had already labeled them completely justified many years ago.

It wasn't long after that particular conversation that Ray had to leave to pick up his little girl from school. Whilst he loved that girl to pieces, both Frank and Mikey knew that, he seemed quite reluctant if not extremely disappointed that he had to leave. It was with a stoic voice that he bid them farewell, once again making Frank promise to come and visit them soon.

"He seem a bit off to you?" Frank asked the moment Ray and his colossal hair were out the door of the shop.

"Yeah, he did. Maybe it's something in the water, I dunno, everyone just seems really down lately," Mikey explained, playing with the last few spoonfuls of mashed potato on his plate.

It didn't go unnoticed by Frank that Mikey still didn't seem like his usual self. Mikey had looked like this once before, from what Frank could remember, and that one time had led to an all out breakdown from the base guitarist, one which ended up in him needing some serious help. Frank didn't want to see, what could quite possibly be his best friend, like that ever again. If he could do something to stop this downward spiral of depression, he would. Sometimes he felt it was his job.

"You spoken to Alicia yet?" Frank dared to ask, referring to the last conversation he and Mikey had had. When Mikey shook his head, he tried another approach. "Gerard? You spoken to your brother about it?"

Somehow Frank already knew the answer was going to be yes, least he hoped it would be. Mikey always told Gerard everything, the day that he stopped would be the day that Mikey had truly given up again. When Mikey nodded this time, Frank sighed in relief. His friend wasn't that bad yet.

"Yeah, I spoke to him. He didn't say much. The message I basically got from him was to get over it or get help. Apparently I was messing up my life thinking about the band and that I had to let it go. Honestly, it was probably the worst thing my brother had ever said to me."

Mikey's facial expression darkened dramatically at these final words. Frank inwardly flinched because that didn't sound like Gerard at all. That sounded like some horrific monster that had possessed Gerard and was forcing him to say things that he would never, not in a million fucking years, say out loud. Not to his brother, his own flesh and blood. Those uninspiring words just never saw the light of day when it came to Gerard fucking Way.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better Mikes ... I've started playing again," Frank admitted proudly. He had promised himself he wouldn't tell the guys, not yet; he didn't want to jinx it. But, Mikey seemed like he really needed the boost.

Immediately, his face lit up.

"Are you fucking serious Frank? You have? I mean, have you actually picked up the guitar and started playing some melodies again? New stuff or old stuff? Are you writing? Please tell me you're writing."

Mikey's excitement caught on. Any sign of depression or anxiety were deleted from his face as he simply beamed at him. Frank felt his heart swell with pride. If Mikey's reaction wasn't incentive enough to keep practicing every fucking night, he didn't know what was.

"Yeah you bet Mikes. Old stuff and new stuff. Just some old melodies that are in my old 'not a hit' box, but it's a start. Haven't written anything else yet, but give me time. Some of the old stuff really has potential. If we're desperate, I guess we can let them finally see the light of day," he said, winking at Mikey as he spoke.

He hoped the younger Way brother would pick up on the message behind his words. Frank was basically reassuring Mikey that they would play again. Even if it wasn't in 'My Chemical Romance', they would still play together again soon.

The message was definitely received because the rest of their conversation was spent discussing stage designs that they had always been dying to try and various bands that they would really love to use as some sort of inspiration in a new CD.

By the time they were parting ways, Mikey was smiling more then Frank had seen him do in a long fucking time and he pulled Frank into a tight hug before getting into his car.

As he watched Mikey drive away Frank found that he was suddenly left to his own thoughts, which were drifting off to what Gerard had said to his brother. It didn't sound like Gerard at all. Sure he was a different person now, they all were, but Gerard basically telling someone to give up on their dreams was like Santa Claus telling people that giving gifts to others was bad.

It didn't make any sense.

That was probably why, as he usually did when things didn't make sense, Frank jumped into his car with every intention of driving to Gerard's place. At that moment though, his mobile started ringing.

"Always when I'm about to fucking drive," he complained, thrusting his hips up and out of the seat rather awkwardly so he could reach into his back pocket and pull out the offending electronic device.

Max's name flashed across the screen and Frank rolled his eyes as he clicked the green button.

"Max! What's up?" he said, sounding a little blunter then he had meant to. Truth was, he had other things on his mind.

"What's up? You're joking right? I heard that stupid interview you had this morning Frank and let me tell you, I wasn't impressed."

Instantly Frank sat himself up straighter in the driver’s seat. How the hell could Max be angry with him over a simple radio interview? He strained to think back to what the fuck he could of said to upset Max so much.

"What? Did I offend you or something?" he asked with a yawn. He was too tired for arguments.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about Frank! All that shit you said about rap music and just doing it to fit in. You did it just to piss me off, I know you did!"

"Don't be stupid, I didn't do it to piss you off, I was just making a dumb statement in a radio interview. No body listens to that crap anyway," Frank snapped back, inspecting his nails as he spoke. It was a petty argument, every relationship had one. Max would get over it.

"I listened to it Frank and I didn't appreciate you having a go at me. You only said it because I pissed you off this morning, real childish you know! You don't have to bring your personal crap into every public appearance you make. I'm not going to become someone you can just rip off and have a good laugh about with your friends," Max continued, slowly getting more and more worked up.

Frank sighed heavily into the speaker. It was quite obvious Max was in a shitty mood, either that or he was finally showing his true colours. No one could get so pissed off over a few meaningless words, could they?

"I don't have a good laugh about you; it wasn't like that at all. I'm sorry it pissed you off so much alright?" he said, rolling his eyes and trying to bring some sort of calm to their conversation.

"No it's not alright Frank! That was a half-assed apology! Let's just face facts here, you don't care about anyone or anything but you’re fucking self. I should have known this relationship was over before it even began. I was right about you all along. Good bye Frank."

With those final words, Frank began to defend himself, but the line went dead. Irritated, he thought about calling back or at least texting a response back. He hated that Max had gotten the last words. Still, he had had plenty of fights like this in all of the other relationships he had been in before, it was nothing new.

They would get past it; Max just needed time to cool off.

Frank tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, put on his sunglasses, cranked the radio up and started up his car. The sun was already beginning to go down, he wanted to get to Gerard's before it was too late, maybe that way he would be able to see Jack before he got sent to bed.

Jack always cheered him up.

--------------------------------------------------

By the time Frank arrived at Gerard's place, the sky was completely black. He had no idea why it had taken him so long to get there, probably something to do with being stuck in the McDonalds drive through. Boy did he hate having a rather unhealthy addiction to McFlurrys.

Still, even though it was quite late, somehow Frank knew where he could find Gerard.

Whenever Gerard was left alone, he tended to sit outside, under the night sky. Numerous times Frank had arrived home, after days of touring, to find Gerard sleeping outside in the lounge chair they had put there just for him. Frank often wondered if Gerard had spent every night he was away out under the stars.

For some reason, the night just seemed to bring Gerard some sort of comfort. Frank understood, he didn't know how, but he did.

With that particular character trait in mind, Frank didn't even bother going to the front door, he simply pushed through the side gate and headed around the back to the pool area. Sure enough, Gerard was sitting there, legs up on the table in front of him, his head buried in a comic book.

He just stood there, a smile playing across his lips as he watched Gerard flip the page, his eyes never leaving the colourful images that lay throughout the entire book. Frank loved it when Gerard was like this; quiet and focused. It made him seem like such a mystery, one that Frank was always dying to solve over and over again.

Finally realising that he couldn't just stand there and stare forever, he approached the other man. The moment his footsteps crunched down on a few dried up leaves, Gerard sprung into action. He abandoned the comic book as he spun around, his intense eyes locking with Franks and sending a spark shooting through his entire body.

"Shit Frank, you scared the crap out of me," Gerard claimed, smiling once he realised that it was just Frank breaking into his house and not some axe murderer.

"You're a bit jumpy lately aren't you," Frank teased, making himself at home as he pulled up a seat next to Gerard. "You weren't doing anything you're not supposed to are you? There's not a porno behind that comic book cover is there?"

Gerard just snorted out a sarcastic laugh as he tossed Frank the open comic book. It was clear that there was no porn anywhere in site, just some guy in tights with mysterious powers, saving the day - as per usual.

"You know, I'm real proud of you Frank," Gerard suddenly announced as Frank momentarily lost himself in the comic book. It was actually quite good stuff, Gerard always knew the right ones to read.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?" he asked, pushing the book aside so he could give Gerard his full attention.

"Because you spoke at Jess' school today. You really didn't have to do that, but I think it was really cool that you did. Apparently you made quite an impression," he finished with a wink.

"I don't think I made that much of an impression Gee. I just came across as some washed up artist who couldn't even keep his own band together," Frank said, opening up somewhat, but at the same time simply hoping that Gerard would say something to the contrary.

"Don't be stupid Frank, there's no way you're washed up. Your careers just beginning you know, those teenagers were apparently quite taken by you. And Jess had quite a lot of good things to say about you and she's a hard one to impress. She seems quite taken by you actually, it's strange. What is it about you Frank that's so fucking addictive?" Gerard asked, a curious glint in his eye.

"Awww, you think I'm addictive Gee? That's so sweet," he taunted, if anything just to get Gerard's mind off Jess and how 'taken' she was by him.

"Don't get too cocky. Just remember, everything that's addictive is bad for you."

"Not everything! What about ... chocolate?" he argued, eager to play one of these old games with Gerard. He loved to tease.

"Chocolate is fat, Frank. It's bad for you," Gerard responded, catching on to what Frank was trying to do but letting him do it nonetheless.

"What about coffee? Milk, sugar, water - that's good enough!"

"Coffee? You're kidding right, that's the worst!"

"Oh yeah ... what about cigarettes?"

"Come on Frank, now you're just being stupid -"

"OH I GOT ONE! How about eggplant salad?" he shouted out proudly, clapping his hands when Gerard didn't immediately come up with a reply.

"That's not addictive Frank, that's just gross," Gerard shot back, turning up his nose and pulling a face.

Frank feigned a shocked and rather hurt expression.

"How can you say that? I used to cook it for you every night when we were together and you never ever complained," Frank protested, shaking his head as though ashamed of him.

"What? Frank, every single time you made it I complained! Remember that time I faked being sick just so I didn't have to eat it?"

"You did? You little bastard!"

With that they both started laughing. Frank liked it when he and Gerard could have a decent conversation the one they were currently having. They could talk about their past life together without getting into an argument, it made Frank feel comfortable enough to keep pushing Gerard, just to see how far they could go back and how much they could discuss. Sometimes he missed being able to talk to Gerard about everything.

At the moment, there was one particular thing that had been bothering Frank since his phone call with Max. "You don't care about anyone or anything but yourself," that's what Max had said. Frank hated hearing that more then anything because he had never, not once, been told that he was selfish. But, was that the same thing that ruined his relationship with Gerard? Was he to blind to see what he was doing wrong? Finally he decided just to ask.

"Gee, I've got to ask. Did I treat you badly? I mean, am I selfish?"

The smile on Gerard's face faltered and then left completely. But it didn't mean he was unhappy with the question, it just seemed that he was slightly concerned if not a little curious why Frank had even asked the question at all. It wasn't like him to doubt himself, but lately, he had been doing a lot of that.

"You never treated me badly Frank, you just weren't around enough to treat me well, if you know what I mean. I was used to you; I knew what you were like. You show affection in different ways, you have your good days and you have your bad days and then you have your down right fucking ugly days, but not once did I ever think badly of you."

Gerard leant forwards as he spoke, his eyes never leaving Franks. The words hit hard and Frank felt slightly better. Still, it wasn't exactly the answer he had been hoping for. He had wanted to hear about what he had done wrong, he didn't want to hear that he was a good person, cause if he treated Gerard so well then why did he fucking run off back to Lindsey?

"As for being selfish well, everyone has their moments, but as far as I'm concerned you're the most selfless person I know Frank," Gerard said simply.

Reaching up, Gerard placed a hand on Frank's shoulder. Once there, he rubbed it in a small circle before sighing and pulling away. The gesture was small and simple but to Frank, it meant so much more then any of his words ever could.

"So anyway Frank, how's that boy friend of yours doing?" Gerard asked, clearing his throat before he spoke as though trying to break the seriousness that had spread between them. Frank just sighed at the simple question.

"He's pissed at me. But, he'll get over it," he explained, shrugging his shoulders. "By the way, I'm taking Jack tomorrow, all fucking day. You can have a break ... paint me something."

With that, Frank abruptly stood up. Gerard just smiled and nodded his head. He was used to Frank's quick little escapes. Frank could talk about anything serious so long as it was in the past when it came to talking about serious issues in the present, like how his boy friend was doing, he'd do anything to avoid the topic of conversation. He was pleased Gerard understood.

Plus, a part of him still liked to play hard to get. And hard to get was best played when you were at the end of a good conversation. Leave before it gets ugly, that way you leave them wondering what else you could have talked about and what else could have happened if you had of just stayed that little bit longer. Frank liked having that control.

"That sounds good Frank. Thanks," Gerard said, but as Frank shrugged his shoulders and waved a hurried goodbye, Gerard reached out and grabbed his wrist to inspect the new sparkling piece of jewelry a little more closely. "Frank ... is that Lindsey's watch?"

"Ah - that is a long story my friend. One for another day," Frank stated mysteriously.

Gerard just smiled at Frank in slight confusion as he studied him closely. But Frank merely winked dramatically before reluctantly turning his back and walking away.

Damn, he still hated to walk away from that man.

---------------------

When Frank woke up the next morning he was vaguely aware of something warm curled up next to his neck.

Something warm and furry.

He secretly prayed to god that it was Pansy and not some horribly hairy women he had brought home from some bar. When he remembered he had been visiting Gerard last night and not drinking at some random place, he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

It was at that moment though that he was vaguely aware of some other presence in the room. This one seemed hostile and when he opened his eyes, he found himself staring at the back of a man he recognised to be Max. Straight away he noticed that he was shoving various items of clothing that were scattered around Frank's room into a large over night bag.

He was packing up his things!

"What are you doing?" Frank asked with a heavy sigh, waking up Pansy with the sound of his voice. Max spun around at the words before proceeding to shake his head as though unable to believe Frank had just asked him that question.

"What does it look like I'm doing Frank?" he said, answering Frank's question with one of his own. "Don't pretend like you didn't see this coming. I said goodbye to you on the phone yesterday and I meant it literally."

Frank let out a snicker of disbelief as he scratched Pansy behind the ear.

"You're seriously going to blow this whole thing over Rap music?" Frank asked, trying to make Max see reason as to how stupid this was. "Well, that just proves I was right, it is shitty. It breaks up relationships. Eminem is a home wrecker."

"God, everything is just one big fucking joke to you isn't it Frank?" Max snapped back, turning away from Frank so he could continue to stuff a pair of his pants into his bag.

"I'm not the one ruining a perfectly good relationship over a stupid little argument."

Frank sat up now, getting more into the conversation. He suddenly realised that Max was being quite serious and he suddenly realised that he wasn't sure he wanted Max to leave him. He didn't want to be alone again.

"What relationship Frank? We get drunk, we fuck and then we watch horror movies in-between. You're not seeing a problem here?"

"You never complained before!"

Frank watched Max stand up so that he could get a better view of the room and locate any more personal items he still had lying around. When he was satisfied that there was nothing left, he zipped up his bag, threw it over one shoulder and then rummaged around in his pocket for something. Finally locating what he had been looking for, he pulled out a small key and tossed it onto the bed in front of Frank.

It was the key Frank had given him to his place a few weeks ago. It was a big step he had taken that day, giving Max the key, and now it felt like an even bigger fucking step backwards that it was being handed back to him.

"Bill left his wife Frank," Max finally said, hanging his head in what was no doubt shame.

For a few moments Frank merely stared at Max in confusion, because he struggled to remember who the fuck Bill even was. Then it all came back to him. The guy he had stolen the puppy off, the guy Max had been seeing before him, the guy that had refused to leave his wife for Max.

Now he clearly had left his wife and now Max was leaving Frank for him.

It suddenly all made sense. This wasn't about a simple disagreement over music, this was about Frank being the rebound guy. The one Max could fuck with until he got what he really wanted and that was clearly Bill. He had Bill now, Frank was finished.

Frank knew the game well; he had played it before with many women. Now he was getting his back; now it was being done to him. And it fucking hurt!

"I get it now. You're fucked!" Frank said fiercely.

With that, Frank rolled out of bed and stormed out of the room. Immediately he headed for the kitchen, he needed coffee, he needed booze, he needed something, anything to get rid of that feeling of rejection. Sure, if he was going to be completely honest with himself he had never liked Max as much as he should have; Max was his rebound fuck to. Truth was though, dumping someone was one thing, being dumped was something totally different.

Max didn't need Frank anymore, he had what he wanted. But Frank didn't have what he wanted yet, so basically, he still needed Max.

"Don't act so surprised Frank, you were fucking using me from the start as well. It was never going to work, we both knew it and yet we both just went along with it," Max shouted after him, as he followed Frank into the kitchen.

It was clear Max was feeling guilty and Frank was fucking glad. There was no way he was going to let him feel any better. If this was it, if he was really going to leave him, he was going to make him feel as guilty as fuck!

"Yeah well, I'm not the one breaking it up am I? Just fuck off, I hope you and what's his face are very fucking happy together. I hope you have lots of little dogs running around your expensive art filled home."

Frank didn't want to look at Max anymore, he had had enough. He distracted himself with the toaster, putting some bread in it and trying to pop it down to toast. He tired and tried and the bread wouldn't stay down, finally he got so annoyed that he just ripped the toaster from the wall and threw it across the kitchen.

Max just crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

"You need to switch it on if you want the toast to stay down," he stated simply, his voice a lot calmer now as he stared at Frank with a look of great sadness on his face.

"I fucking know that, I'm not stupid!" Frank defended himself, staring at the power point as though wishing he could simply blow it up with the power of his mind.

They both just stood there for a few minutes in silence until finally Max approached Frank. He grabbed his face in his hands and placed a small kiss on his forehead. Then, just like that, he rubbed at his slightly teary eyes and turned away.

"I'm sorry Frank. You really were the best rebound I ever had though, if that makes you feel any better. We both deserve better then this though. I hope it doesn't take you too long to figure that out. Whatever you’re waiting for Frank, whoever your waiting for, I hope it works out."

With those final words, Max let out one more small sob before hitching his bag further up his shoulder and walking out the door. The moment it shut behind him Frank numbly opened up his cupboard door, hoping against hope that the bottle of Jack Daniels he had bought a few weeks ago was still there.

It was, and the moment he had it in his shaky hands he leant against the kitchen cupboards and slid down them onto the floor. Once there, he unscrewed the lid and started to drink the burning liquid.

Surprisingly, his thoughts weren't even on Max. Sure, he missed him already, sure he hated what had just been done to him, but that was in no way why he was so upset.

He was upset because this had all happened before.

Gerard had left him to go running back to Lindsey, his previous lover. The moment Lindsey needed him he was rushing back to her side. Back then, Frank had felt like the rebound fuck to.

After what had just happened with Max, he was seriously beginning to wonder if he had been too fucking blind back then. Had Gerard simply used Frank for nearly four fucking years because he was waiting for Lindsey to want him again? Was Frank a full-time rebound?

It was a while before Frank even remembered that Max had just walked out on him, because in his mind, all he could see was Gerard confessing to him that he had slept with Lindsey, that they weren't working out, that he was going back to her.

In his mind, Gerard had just left him all over again

Letting a stray tear roll down his cheek, he lifted the Jack Daniels bottle to his lips and started drinking.

---------------------------------------------------------

By late afternoon Frank had long since abandoned his bottle of Jack Daniels. He wasn't sure how long he had sat sulking on the kitchen floor, but he figured it was long enough.

No one gave a shit how miserable he was, no one gave a shit how his life seemed to be falling apart over and over again, so he figured why waste it trying to get people to notice. Instead, he put the bottle of alcohol back in the cupboard for another bad day then showered and dressed himself.

He honestly wasn't even really aware what he was doing, his body just seemed to be emotionally numb. Only one thought filled his tired brain - he had a date with Jack. He knew what it was like to be let down, to be disappointed, he wasn't about to put Jack through that as well. He had to be there.

Grabbing the wriggling Pansy, Frank jumped into his car and drove off to Gerard's; unfazed by the fact he was probably quite drunk and should no doubt not be driving.

The moment he got to his destination, he actually thought that everyone had gone out. The house was deathly silent. If it wasn't for the fact that the front door was unlocked, Frank probably would have just turned around and headed home.

"Hello? Anyone here?" he called out, stepping into the hallway and peering into the lounge room. The TV was on but the volume was turned right down. No one was in the room.

"FRANKIE!" an excited voice cried out and he turned around just in time to see a miniature Gerard come running towards him.

Jack threw his small arms around Frank's waist and clutched on tightly, immediately Frank bent down so that he could pick up the ever growing boy and cuddle him for a few moments before placing him back on the ground. It was just something Frank needed to do, he needed a real hug right then and there and Jack wasn't surprised by the act of affection at all, he seemed rather pleased with it.

"What on earth are you wearing?" Frank asked, taking in Jack's choice of clothing for the first time since he had arrived.

The dark haired boy had on what looked to be an old pair of pajama pants. They were bright red apart from the black draw string. He had an over sized black jumper with 'The Misfits' printed over the front of it in green bubble writing. Frank recognised it as one of his old jumpers, he had given it to Jack over two years ago, it was still far too big for him.

"I dressed myself," Jack announced proudly, bouncing around with far too much energy.

For a six year old, dressing wasn't a hard thing to do, but selecting out society approved clothing was definitely a challenge to their uneducated mind. The thing that struck Frank as odd though was the fact that Jack actually had to dress himself, was Gerard even there?

One look at Jack's untied shoe laces and Frank was seriously beginning to think that Gerard was missing in action.

"You still haven't learnt how to do up those laces huh?" Frank asked, secretly looking into any room he could see for any sign of Gerard.

"Shut up Frank, it's hard," Jack whined, stamping his foot in frustration. It was clear he didn't like being reminded that he still couldn't quite figure out the bunny ears routine.

"Alright, keep your shirt on, I'll show you again. Speaking of shirts are you even wearing one under that?" Frank asked, somehow already knowing that the answer was going to be no.

Sure enough, Jack lifted up the over sized jumper to show off the pale bare skin on his chest. No shirt. Frank made a mental note not only to teach Jack how to tie his shoes but to dress properly to. Knowing the kid as well as he did he was certain he would pick up on some of Gerard's mannerisms; the last thing he needed was for Jack to run around announcing that he wasn't wearing any underwear.

Once Frank and Jack had successfully done up both shoe laces, Gerard finally decided to show himself. He entered the lounge room calling out to Jack, he had on an old 'Black Flag' shirt on and it was covered in paint.

"Frank? I thought you might have forgotten," Gerard exclaimed, clearly quite surprised to see him there.

"Daddy!" Jack squealed happily, standing up on the lounge so Gerard could see him better. "Look, I dressed myself."

"Aren't they pajama pants?" Gerard asked his son, screwing up his face in confusion.

"They sure are, you must be so proud," Frank said, grinning stupidly as Gerard continued to look Jack up and down. Finally he just shrugged.

"Oh well, could be worse I supposed. Nice work Jack, I think you could start up a new trend," Gerard announced, holding out his palm for Jack to high-five it. The small boy did so with great enthusiasm as he leapt over the lounge in one rather awkward bound.

Frank continued to watch the odd site playing out before him in confusion. It wasn't unusual for Gerard to have his days off, the kind of days where he didn't bother asking Jack seven times if he had brushed his teeth that morning or shouting at him for jumping on the furniture with his shoes on. Yet, something just seemed a bit off.

Gerard was acting very carefree which was extremely unusual considering the past few times Frank had seen him he had been seriously stressing about the up and coming wedding. To be honest, what Frank was seeing before him was old Gerard, non-committed Gerard. He didn't hate it, but he hadn't seen this Gerard in so long that he was actually quite concerned why he was showing his face now.

Still, Frank always told Gerard to relax and have fun every once and while, perhaps he had finally taken his advice. After all, he had clearly been painting all morning; he probably just got a hit of inspiration and went with it. Frank had said he'd be round, maybe Gerard just figured it would be earlier. It wasn't bad for a parent to have some time to themselves every once and a while. Jack was six now, he was big enough to know some right from wrongs.

Finally convincing himself that nothing was really that much out of the ordinary, Frank and Jack said goodbye to Gerard and left the house.

"Aren't we going to drive Frankie?" Jack asked as Frank shoved his car keys in his pocket.

"Nope, I brought Pansy along, we're going to go for a long walk to the ice cream shop," Frank said, unable to help sounding quite excited at the thought of ice cream. The truth was, he hadn't been planning on walking but after realising how drunk he might actually be, he figured it was safer not to have Jack in the car with him.

Pansy was waiting impatiently for them back at Frank's car. He was biting on the gear stick and growling as though hoping he could destroy it and pay Frank back for abandoning him, if only for a few minutes.

He clipped the lead on the small animal and the three of them were off.

One thing Frank loved about hanging out with Jack was that all of his problems seemed a million miles away. When he was with Jack, everything just seemed normal, almost stable. The events of that morning were practically forgotten about as he walked along, locked in discussion about Hannah Montana; apparently Jack found her quite attractive.

"You're joking aren't you? She has two identities, you know that right? It'd be a hard life Jacky, you wouldn't know who you were going to get next, Miley Cyrus or Hannah Montana," Frank said, amused at how serious Jack was discussing his crush on her.

"They're still the same person silly. When you get big and famous again, can you introduce me to her?" Jack asked, pulling on his arm excitedly.

"Maybe ... by the time that happens though I'm sure you would have moved on to somebody else."

As they got ice creams and continued their walk along the beach, their conversation went from everything to what they both had for breakfast that morning to what type of sweets Frank was going to have in his chocolate factory when he got rich enough to buy one.

"So, stupid question Jack, but I'm curious, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Frank asked when their ice creams were long since finished and they were running out of things to talk about. They were now sitting on the beach, Pansy barking playfully at a hermit crab that was trying to scurry away unnoticed.

"A rock star!" Jack cried out, not even taking a moment to think over his answer. Frank just laughed.

"You don't want to be a rock star Jack, it's not a very good life," Frank said a little sadly. Truth was, Frank loved playing music, he loved being a star, but looking back on everything they had gone through to get there, he wasn't sure he wanted Jack to have to go through all of that.

"I don't mind. I just want to play music like you and daddy and Uncle Mikey do," Jack admitted, shrugging his shoulders as though he didn't care what Frank said, his mind was already made up.

"Well then I'd better start giving you rock star lessons," Frank announced, standing up and gesturing for Jack to do the same. "I want you to jump around and scream for me as loud as you can."

"No Frankie, I'll look silly," Jack said, giggling as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.

"That coming from a kid in red pajama pants and a jumper that's big enough to be a dress. Come on Jacky, I want to hear you scream," Frank said, egging him on. "Watch, I'll show you how."

With many sunbathers and swimmers staring at him in surprise, Frank cupped his hands together like he was holding an imaginary microphone and he started shouting the words to 'I'm Not Okay' whilst jumping and rolling around on the sand. Pansy barked enthusiastically as she tried to jump in and lick at his face without getting kicked whilst Jack clapped and laughed at the display.

"Now your turn," Frank exclaimed the moment he was done butchering the old 'My Chemical Romance' song. He was panting and he was covered in sand, but his heart was pounding in his chest as though for a moment he had truly been performing on stage.

Jack hesitated slightly but with Frank's help, the small boy was cupping his hands together, much the same as Frank had just done, and begun screaming the words to Miley Cyrus' 'Stutter' out so well that Frank found himself eager to join in. They jumped around each other, screaming and shouting into imaginary microphones as Pansy jumped around excitedly.

Frank eventually stopped, just watching Jack continue to roll around in the sand, a great sense of pride swelling up in his heart. The kid looked just like Gerard did on stage and for a moment a wave of nostalgia washed over him. He needed to see Gerard perform again. He needed to see 'My Chemical Romance' take the stage once more.

"How was that?" Jack asked when he had completed the whole song. Frank just stood up and clapped.

"You're a rock star Jacky! Look out world, Jack Way is going to be taking over! Now all we have to do is teach you the guitar and no one will be able to stop you," Frank announced proudly, lying down on the beach again, quite exhausted now.

"Maybe you can take me with you the next time you go and play Frankie," Jack suggested, his eyes wide almost as though he was pleading Frank to take his suggestion seriously.

"I'll tell you what Jack, if you can get your dad to want to get the band back together again, then you can even come on tour with us," Frank said, secretly knowing that he was safe with making that deal because Jack would never accomplish such a task. The band seemed to be the last thing on Gerard's mind lately.

"It's a deal!" Jack squealed excitedly before running to chase after Pansy.

Frank was too quick for Jack though and the moment he tried to run after the puppy, Frank put out his arms and wrapped them around the boys' legs. With a small cry of surprise, Jack lost his balance and went crashing into the sand. Frank burst into a fit of laughter as Jack lunged at him, clearly frustrated at having been knocked off his feet.

When exhaustion and the heat of the sun finally hit them, they both just stopped moving and lay on the beach, side by side. Frank turned his head so that he could see Jack and he was actually quite surprised when Jack turned up his nose at him.

"You smell like dad," he stated simply, holding his nose as though to prove his point.

It wasn't often Frank took offense to what a six year old said, but he couldn't help but feel a little down at that particular comment. One thing Frank had never held back on was hygiene and he could still remember how badly Gerard could smell; it was a harsh statement even from a kid.

"Come on, I don't smell that bad," he defended himself, cautiously sniffing one arm pit. If he did smell that bad, he certainly couldn't smell it.

"I'm not talking about that smell silly; I'm talking about the other smell. You smell like alcohol," Jack offered, grabbing Frank's arm and giggling at how silly he must have looked sniffing his underarm.

Frank ignored the fact that poor six year old, innocent little Jack knew what alcohol smelt like to focus on the bigger issue: Frank smelt like booze (no doubt from the Jack Daniels he had been drinking that morning), Jack said Frank smelt like Gerard, therefore assuming his calculations were correct, Gerard smelt like alcohol! Why the fuck did Gerard smell like alcohol?

He almost laughed at how many times his brain ran the word 'smelt' over and over. It was a funny word when he thought about it and it was even funnier that they were having a conversation on how somebody smelt. But, sometimes it was the smaller things that kids picked up on but this wasn't small at all, this one was certainly a heavy find.

Gerard didn't drink! Not any more.

Frank opened his mouth to tell Jack he was wrong, that there was no way in the world Gerard would start drinking again, yet somehow the words failed to leave his mouth. They all seemed to think that Gerard was doing fine, Mikey had the marriage problems, Ray and Bob had the settling down problems and Frank had too many problems to fucking count. But Gerard, well, he seemed to have it all.

Then again, wasn't that Gerard's problem in the first place? Long ago when he first started drinking no one thought anything of it because they were all drinking. Good old Gerard would never have a problem, he was the crazy one, he was the one always laughing and he was the one that would always come out on top. The one that could have a whole stadium full of people doing anything he asked them to do. But back then, they had all been horribly wrong, he hadn't been doing well at all, he was disintegrating before their eyes.

Franks thoughts wondered back to just before when they had left Gerard to paint. He had been acting a little odd after all. Was Gerard fucking Way, the face of sobriety, drinking again?

Why the fuck was he drinking again?

"How is your dad doing anyway? He missing your mum?" Frank asked, figuring that maybe Jack had picked up on any changes in Gerard's personality lately.

"Na, he's alright. Been really happy actually, I think he's excited about the wedding. Plus he's drawing heaps again. You should see the comic book he's working on, it's so cool!" Jack exclaimed happily, waving his arms around to exaggerate the word 'cool'.

It wasn't the answer Frank had been hoping for, if there was something wrong with Gerard he wanted to know what it was, especially if it was causing him to drink again.

Still, perhaps he had it all wrong, Jack was only six after all, what if Gerard wasn't drinking at all? What if he truly was happy? Was Frank just looking for excuses now? Did he want Gerard to be unhappy? Truth was if Gerard was unhappy then he would go looking for Frank again. That was sort of how it happened the first time.

At that point, Frank hated himself all over again. He didn't want Gerard to be unhappy, that was just selfish.

Frank knew at that moment he needed to stop his brain from thinking. At that point he envied Jack, he envied that he could seem so at ease with the world. A child’s mind usually only had room for one problem at a time, sometimes Frank wished life could be that simple again.

Deciding that it was going to get dark pretty soon and that they had had enough excitement for one day, Frank helped Jack up off the sand, put the lead back on Pansy and together they headed back to Gerard's place. Frank humming any song that came to mind, just to distract his mind from the ever increasing list of questions he wanted to shout out to anyone who would listen.

"Frankie?" Jack asked as they made their slow trek back. It seemed both puppy and boy were too exhausted to keep up with Frank.

"Yeah Jack, what's up?" They were getting nowhere fast, Frank wished he had of brought his cigarettes, at that moment, he needed one.

"Daddy said you had my name tattooed on you. Can I see it?" he asked, sounding almost as though he was ashamed to ask.

Laughing slightly, Frank just ruffled up Jack's hair letting him know that it was okay that he asked the question. In fact, he was quite surprised that Gerard had told Jack about it at all.

"Course you can! Sorry it kind of gets lost amongst all the others, but I know where it is and that's all that counts," he stated proudly as he bent down and lifted up his shirt.

"Woah Frankie! You have tattoo's everywhere!" Jack said in amazement. Immediately his small fingers traced a few of the various pictures and words he clearly liked. Frank giggled as his touch tickled his skin.

"There's your name right there," he stated, pointing to the word 'hope' the flame and then the boy's name right above it. "Pretty cool huh? I got it when you were about three."

Jack didn't really say anything as his fingers traced over the name again and again. For a moment Frank thought that perhaps he didn't like it. In fact, now that he thought about it, he felt quite stupid. Here he was with the name of a kid that wasn't even his tattooed permanently into his skin. All this time he had worn it with pride, even after Gerard and him had separated, Jack was still the closest thing to a son he would ever have. But now, he worried that perhaps Jack found it stupid, maybe even pointless.

After all, once the band had split they had all still remained close friends, but lately; everyone seemed to be headed along their own paths. They saw each other less and less, what would happen if they all drifted away from one another permanently? What would happen if Gerard left, taking Jack with him? What if Frank stopped seeing the kid?

An image of a grown up Jack (who bore a striking resemblance to Gerard) flashed into Frank's already crowded mind. This Jack, the adult one, wouldn't care that some old man had his name tattooed on his chest. One day, Frank wouldn't mean anything to him!

When Jack's still tiny fingers moved away from Frank's chest, he hurriedly pulled his shirt back down and stood up feeling slightly awkward. He had so many tattoos because that was what he did, it made him feel better, it made him feel like everything he loved and everything that made him happy was on him constantly. Showing Jack his life, showing Jack everything that was special to him felt like he was letting him inspect his very heart and soul. What if Jack didn't like what he saw?

Yet, the moment Frank stood back up, feeling strangely embarrassed, Jack's arms were once again wrapped around Frank's middle. This time he clutched on so tightly and for so long that Frank found himself breathing out a heavy sigh of contentment.

Yes, one day Jack would be older but Frank knew that he would still be there. There was no way in hell anyone could tear him away from the kid. And so what if one day he did think that Frank's tattoo was slightly lame, for now Jack loved him and that was all that mattered.

"You alright Jack?" Frank asked when Jack continued to just hold onto him tightly. He was now slightly concerned that maybe he had upset him somehow.

But Jack merely shifted his head so that his neck was flat against Frank's stomach and he was looking up at him with a huge smile on his face. Those tiny rounded teeth that reminded him so much of Gerard flashed up at him.

"Yeah Frankie, I'm just happy that I'm part of your life too," Jack said, still smiling up at him.

A part of Frank felt strangely complete at that point. He couldn't explain it, he just felt great and he found himself pulling Jack away from him, if anything, just so he wouldn't cry like a great big fucking girl. Jack didn't seem to mind, he merely clutched onto Frank's hand instead and they finally began walking again.

"Do you really have the names of all your dogs tattooed on your butt?" Jack asked as they trekked up the steep hill.

"Where the hell did you hear that?"

"The internet."

-----------------------------------------------

AN: Hey hey all. Sorry it's so short. This was just the end of the episode and I liked it so much I had to pack it full of stuff. LOL! This one is important, cause I wanted to pick on poor Gerard. Cause he's my fav character most of the time and I wanted everyone to think, oh is he or isn't he, lol! Did you think that? Hope you like xxxx