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 Twelve: That's a great fucking name ... If you're a hooker! (Part Two)

When Frank got hurt, he laughed. He had no idea why, but it was just something he did. Right now, he was leaning against the wall, clasping at his aching jaw and snorting in-between hysterical giggles.

"You can hit me as much as you want, I don't have any money," Frank said, still laughing at his current predicament. After all, what else could he do?

No matter how much he got hit by Trixy's six and a half foot tall ape-like pimp, it still didn't change the fact that unless he was allowed to go to a bank teller of some sort he had no cash. Not one single cent.

It was funny, he suddenly remembered how much Gerard used to pester him about how he should always, no matter what, carry at least a couple of dollars around with him. Too many times had he tried to catch a train or a bus only to realise he had an empty wallet. It turned out Gerard's advice was good ... shame he had never taken it.

The alcohol and drugs he had consumed were still numbing his pain slightly; unfortunately it was also slowing down his reflexes. If he hadn't of been so wasted, he probably would have seen the next attack before it happened and managed to save himself from receiving a sharp blow to the side. He felt his whole rib-cage shudder and he let out a moan through his giggles as he cowered once again against the wall.

"Come on Frank, this is getting old," Trixy spoke up from her spot on his lounge.

The moment her pimp had walked in the door Frank had been dragged out into the lounge room, rather unceremoniously, by his foot. Her pimp's massive fist had immediately plummeted down towards his jaw. Honestly though, Frank didn't really mind the attack, in a way it was kind of soothing.

The fact of the matter was, at that moment, pain was the only thing keeping him going. It fueled his self-loathing and served as a nice, heavy blanket over the grief that threatened to over-power him. Yup, Frank was definitely enjoying being beat up.

"Don't you have like an expensive watch or something?" Trixy tried to bargain with him. It seemed that she too had come to the realisation that it didn't matter how much her pimp beat the living shit out of him, he still had nothing to pay her with.

Frank's rib-cage made a recovery and he was able to stand straight again with only the tiny hint of discomfort in his side. The room was still spinning, he was still on that high from the heroin, the whole situation was highly amusing and he just started laughing once again.

Trixy just rolled her eyes as her pimp looked at her in slight confusion.

All in all, as far as pimps went, even though Frank hadn't met that many, he figured Trixy's wasn't all that bad. It didn't look as though he got any real pleasure out of hitting Frank; it merely looked like he was doing it because it was his job to. If Frank didn't know any better he could have sworn that the guy was some sort of security rather then a pimp. For all he knew, he could have been.

"What about your guitar? That's got to be worth something. I'd take your credit card but you'd have it cancelled within minutes," Trixy continued to think out loud, inspecting her nails in a bored manner.

"It's got so many scratches and stickers and shit all over it that I doubt you'd get five bucks for it," Frank stated rather simply, giggling again, this time just to rub it into Trixy's face. She was loosing, he didn't have anything.

This time Frank saw the hit coming and he scrunched up his face and braced himself, unable to do anything else. Trixy's pimp, security, whatever the fuck he was, raised one massive fist and brought it down, once again, against Frank's already tender face.

Moaning loudly, he put both his hands up so as to protect his face from any further damage, but the next blow didn't touch any part of his upper body, instead, the much larger man lifted up his knee and sent it in the direction of Frank's balls.

This time, Frank felt the full blow and with one last pathetic laugh and one last useless cry in pain, he fell to his knees and simply lounged out the rest of his body on the soft carpet of his lounge room.

It was at that very moment when he rolled around, clasping at his extremely tender crotch, that his front door burst open and two people he recognised as friends rushed in. Bob and Ray took in the scene that they had just walked in on and their features scrunched up into a look of pure confusion.

"What the fuck?" Bob said loudly as he looked from the bored Trixy to the giant pimp and then down to the cowering Frank.

"Hey guys ... You remember Trixy don't you? From the bar? Well, this is her pimp," Frank slurred drunkenly from his position on the floor. After all, he figured it would be rude if he didn't introduce everyone.

"Shit Frank ... are you alright?" Ray called out, as he slowly began to realise just what was going on.

Frank just moaned loudly and rolled his eyes.

"I'm fucking fantastic Toro - you fucking moron."

If his head hadn't of been swimming with all the poison he had filled it with, he probably would have been able to take in more of what was happening around him. All he was aware of though was that the hitting had stopped and that the attention was no longer on him. The other thing he was aware of was just how much his fucking balls ached.

Next thing he knew there was a rather loud commotion and when he finally found the will-power to look up, Bob had one of his own fists flying towards Trixy's pimps face. It connected with a rather satisfying cracking noise and Frank was positive the guy’s nose was broken. Still, it didn't take the pimp long to recover and if it wasn't for Ray suddenly jumping in between them both and waving his wallet around, he was sure that Bob and the pimp would have fought it out to the very end.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Ray cried out, flinching slightly when he realised that he was in-between two very large and angry men. "How much does he owe?"

That question alone instantly had the pimp lowering his fists and calming himself down. After all, it was all for the money. He didn't do it all for the satisfaction of beating somebody up, he did it because he wanted his weakly payment. Frank figured it was a sucky job, one he was glad he didn't have to do.

Trixy named her price, which of course had gone up since the last quote she had given Frank, and with great hesitance, Ray pulled out all the cash he had and then asked Bob to hand over all of his to. Together, they had just enough to pay and with a beaming smile Trixy and her pimp left Frank's apartment.

"My wife is going to fucking kill me if she finds out I just paid a prostitute. Even if it wasn't me that got the loving, I still feel guilty as hell," Ray said, breaking the silence that had fallen about the room now that the commotion had stopped.

Frank just clutched at his balls and started laughing again. After all, what else was there to do? He wanted to tell Bob and Ray thanks, but he could do that later, for now all he was interested in was the high that he was currently still experiencing and the grief that he wanted to suppress for as long as possible.

"Shit Iero, this is the first time I see you in months and I'm already beating up pimps and paying for you to have sex," Bob added to the conversation, but their was the hint of excitement in his eyes that had Frank staring at him in slight confusion.

It was clear Bob had enjoyed his little fist fight.

The next thing Frank knew, hands were all over him and he was being roughly lifted onto his shaky feet. He was positive he was going to go crashing to the ground again, his body simply ached all over. Yet, strong arms wrapped themselves around him and then all Frank could see was a huge forest of curly brown hair.

"Ah! Ray! Get it away, get it away!" Frank cried, swatting away the curls frantically as Ray continued to hold onto him tightly.

Frank probably would have wrestled his friend away, he didn't want to be hugged, but the next thing he knew, Ray was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Frank slurred as he gave in trying to fight the hair and stared at Bob for some kind of help. Bob merely shrugged his shoulders and continued to inspect Frank's rather disheveled house.

"I-I just remember all those t-times when Don used to drive the bus," Ray stammered out, still crying softly into Frank's body. "I m-miss him to you know, he w-was a g-good fucking man."

With an irritated groan, Frank managed to wiggle himself free of Ray's needy grip. Everyone else may have thought it was time for acceptance, but Frank wasn't ready yet. It still wasn't time to morn the loss of Don Way ... he wasn't ready yet.

When the hug was broken, Ray seemed to get a grip on his emotions. Hastily he brushed away all of his tears with the back of his hand before he looked at Frank with a new found purpose.

"Come on Frank, we got to get you on that plane. We've got a funeral to go to," Ray announced, not a sign of the tears he had recently shed showing through his now determined features.

"I already told you, I'm not fucking going! I don't belong around the Way's anymore," Frank snapped back.

He stumbled against the wall without Ray's strong hands supporting him. With new found purpose and the desire to get away, he summoned up the strength to push himself off it and stumble past both a bewildered Ray and a rather pissed off Bob.

"Where are you going now?" Bob snapped, apparently not all that keen on chasing him again. After all, it was well past midnight and they were no doubt tired enough without having to follow him into whatever other trouble he got up to that day.

"Just, stop following me ... leave me alone," Frank found himself saying without actually meaning to say the words.

He didn't want to sound so harsh, especially after everything his friends had done for him, but he just wanted to be alone. Frank wasn't ready to go yet, he didn't want to say goodbye and as he pushed Ray aside and gave Bob a look that said quite simply to give him some space, he stumbled out of his front door, crawled into his car and started the engine.

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Frank liked Christmas, always had. It was his second favourite holiday next to Halloween.

It was a time for family and friends to come together and forget their differences and for as long as he could remember, there had not been one single bad memory that he could recollect from any of the years he had participated in the holiday.

That was, of course, up until now.

Truth was, it should have been one of the best Christmas' he had ever celebrated. He and Gerard had been living together for eight months, it was safe to say that Frank was finally settled in; he had adjusted to his new life.

Jack was three years old and still a handful, but for the most part Frank was coping a lot better. Somewhere along the way, he had even started viewing the small child as his own. In his mind, they were one big, happily messed up family and their first Christmas together as one was supposed to be a memorial event.

Naturally, from the very moment he was rudely awakened, he knew that it was going to be a terrible day.

Frank had never played Santa Claus before and when Gerard woke him up well past midnight on Christmas Eve, Frank was sure that it was some kind of bad joke. But as it turned out, that was the best time to fill up Jack's stocking with presents as no three year old was awake at midnight.

The next day when Jack woke up to look at what Santa had got him, Frank was sure it would feel like it had all been worth it. But, the truth was, Frank wasn't all misty eyed and joyful like Gerard was at seeing his son so happy, Frank was actually quite bitter.

After all, he had picked out a lot of those presents and he had been quite proud of his selection. Frank had also been the one to get his ass out of bed at an unreasonable hour to fill the stocking full of toys. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why some fat, imaginary man in a red fucking suit should get all the praise when it had been Frank and Gerard that had done all the work.

When Frank was forced to explain the reasoning behind his bad mood, Gerard just burst into a round of laughter before shaking his head and walking away from the still pouting Frank. Needless to say, for the rest of the day he was in a pretty fowl mood and he couldn't quite understand why.

First on the agenda was visiting Frank's parents; they got the three of them for an early lunch. The moment they arrived, Frank decided that they shouldn't have even bothered going in the first place. His parent’s home was filled to the brim full of family members that Frank hadn't seen in years and whilst he usually didn't mind big Christmas' at home, this year, he couldn't stand it.

Every set of eyes was on him, Gerard and Jack. He was the Iero kid who left his wife and girl friend of almost fifteen years and messed up his dream of being in a band to be with some guy who already had a kid. Needless to say, they didn't stay long.

Then, of course, the next stop was Gerard's parents' home. The one stop that Frank was seriously not looking forward to. After all, he and Don were still on strictly no speaking terms and Mikey was still finding it much easier to ignore Frank all together then have to deal with the memory of what he saw in the hotel room almost a year ago.

To Frank, sitting at the dinner table with Gerard's family all around him was nothing short of slow, painful torture. When the meal was over, his bad mood had risen to an all knew level. The moment Don went outside for a beer, Frank took a deep breath and followed him out.

"What is it Iero?" Don said in a disinterested tone when he noticed that he had been followed outside.

He cracked open his beer and took a long sip, looking out over his back yard rather then at Frank. The anger only grew and Frank finally found the strength to say to Don what he should have said a long time ago.

"What is it? You're kidding right? I have been fucking bending over backwards trying to impress you, trying to show you that I'm capable of taking care of your son the same way Lindsey did and you still don't even fucking notice my existence," Frank began, trying to keep his voice steady so as not to alert the others inside of the argument that was no doubt eventually going to get out of hand.

Don snickered to himself as he took another deep swig of his drink. It was clear Frank's words were getting to him and he was glad. After all, that was why he was there.

"I just don't get it! You always liked me, you never had a problem with me and I know that I pushed my luck this time but - fuck - Gerard was just as much to blame as me! I had a life with Jamia to you know! We both made sacrifices; we were in it together, why should I still have to be the one that's constantly being punished?"

It all spilled out of Frank in one giant flood of words. He had bottled it all up for too long, trying to please Gerard rather then Don, but deep down, it was all slowly eating away at him. Already he felt slightly better getting it off his chest, but his heart still hammered uncontrollably, wondering what Don was going to say back to him.

"Look Frank ... just shut your mouth and go back inside," Don said, his voice slightly emotionless as he continued to stare out over his backyard.

Frank just stared at him in disbelief, after everything, he was still just going to try and ignore him. Instantly, he shook his head and took a defiant step forwards.

"No! I know you hate me Don, but I'm not fucking going anywhere until you tell me what your problem is! Why can't you just be happy for us?" Frank said, his own anger erupting completely and his voice rising slightly.

Instantly, he thought Don was going to snap. He had raised his voice, he was getting out of control, he was being pushy and he was slowly invading his personal space, he knew Don well enough to know he didn't like confrontations. Sure enough, when Don spun around to finally look at him, there was anger behind his eyes and Frank took a few wary steps back.

"You just don't get it do you Iero," Don suddenly spoke; Frank braced himself for the hit - because this was going to hurt badly. "All I ever wanted to do was fucking hate you for breaking up Gerard's family! But no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't ..."

Frank stared for a few moments ... because, he couldn't have possibly heard him right. Don still looked angry, his voice still leaked venom and yet, the words that were being spoken were not what he had expected at all.

"I'll never forget that day Donna and I went around to visit Gerard, Lindsey and Jack," Don began, staring at Frank so intensely he felt slightly awkward. "The first thing we heard as we walked up to the front door was him and Lindsey screaming at each other, talking about affairs and separation. The moment I heard your name thrown into the mix Frank I wanted to fucking kill you!"

Frank wasn't sure whether to open his mouth and defend himself or to perhaps take a few more steps back away from Don's reach, just in case he still wanted to carry out those plans. Frank still remembered that day, because he had been in the lounge room, contemplating whether or not he should leave and give them room to vent.

It was a few days after the band had broken up, in a state of despair, Frank had gone around to Gerard's house. They had argued with each other over their stupidity, told each other to keep away and give the other some space. Before Frank knew what was happening his lips were sucking at Gerard's neck whilst his hands were gripping his shoulders tightly.

Lindsey walked into her home that day to find Gerard with his hands down the front of Frank's pants. Needless to say, they broke apart quickly, desperately trying to come up with some believable explanation. When there wasn't any, Gerard retreated to the bedroom to begin the yelling match with his wife whilst Frank grabbed the screaming Jack and tried to calm him down.

He should have left that day, given them some space, but he felt his place was there. Jack's chubby little face lined with tears almost begged him not to leave.

Frank snapped out of his thoughts and locked eyes with Don. He had no idea he had been there that day so clearly he hadn't gone through with his plans to kill him. Frank decided not to speak, he was now far too curious to hear the end of the story.

"Donna and I already had our suspicions," Don continued, his stare still intense. "Gerard was never good at keeping secrets especially from Mikey and he had already noticed that Gerard seemed distant when he was around Lindsey. Then the whole band breaking up, we weren't stupid; we could tell something was up.

"When I walked into that house, I thought about breaking up the argument, telling my son that he was a moron and that he needed to work things out with his wife. I couldn't understand how he could leave such a beautiful women to be with a fucking man! But then I remembered that my son was a grown-up now. As much as I hated to admit it, I had to let him fight his own battles now."

Don paused to take a sip from his beer, the fury was still there but his voice was softer now. Frank swallowed hard, not daring himself to speak. This was the first time that Don had ever opened up to him, that was enough to keep him quite.

"I love my son Frank and I loved his fucking family! You don't understand what it was like, Jack meant everything to us, he was the grandson that almost didn't make it. Not because he was sick or unhealthy, it was because for a while, Donna and I were convinced that Gerard wouldn't make it. He was so fucking destructive, he was always depressed, always drunk, when he over-dosed on our sleeping pills at seventeen, we were convinced that one day we were going to loose him. But we didn't ... and that same train wreck son grew up to have a wife and a kid. I had never seen him so happy."

Don paused with those words and Frank felt his face flush and his eyes started stinging. It was anger that held the tears back, he didn't want to cry, that was what Don wanted, to watch him break down ... wasn't it? Still, the story hit hard, Frank had heard it all before, he knew Gerard back in those days and he to had felt that great sense of pride and over-whelming happiness when Gerard had gotten married to Lindsey and again when Gerard called him in tears stating that he had a son.

"Look ... I'm -" Frank began to say, felling that he should say something, but Don raised a hand to silence him and continued to talk over what he had been about to say.

"Save it Frank, I'm not finished. I walked into the house the back way that day, to find you, to get some clarity into what exactly was going on. Donna begged me to let it be but I told her to wait in the car and I marched right into that place looking for you. Then, I walked into the lounge room Frank and do you know what I saw?"

For a moment Frank was positive that Don was going to explain how he had seen him there that day and beaten him senseless, but Frank remembered that day with great clarity and he knew that he had never, not once, seen Don in that lounge room.

"I saw you and Jack sitting on the floor. He was sitting in your lap and you were playing peek-a-boo with him. You even had a fucking CD playing so that most of the fight was drowned out. Jack was laughing and smiling, he had no fucking clue that his parents were down the hall screaming their lungs out at each other," Don explained, stopping suddenly as he took a deep breath and had another sip of his beer.

For a moment, Frank thought that he was crying, but he had never seen Don cry and he doubted he ever would. That wasn't his thing, he was the tough one in the family, the strong one and Frank knew Gerard respected him for that. That was why it was so important that Frank gained Don's respect in turn. Had he possibly had it all along?

"I couldn't believe that you hadn't ran away," Don said, his voice suddenly quite low as though he still couldn't believe it. "You didn't just run off when things got problematic, you stuck around to make sure that Jack wasn't left on his own ... And I fucking love that kid Iero and what you said to him that day made me re-think what I was planning on doing to you when I got my hands on you. Do you remember what you said to him?"

It took Frank a few moments to realise he had been asked a question; he had been so caught up in the story, at the new emotions playing out on Don's face. He couldn't talk just yet, so he just shook his head. He couldn't remember and even if he did, he wanted to hear it from Don, it was his story.

"You said 'some day you're going to hate me for this Jack, but until then, I promise that I'm going to love you and your dad so much that one day, long after all that hate, you might just be able to forgive me again'. And then you just fucking picked up that kid and hugged him so tightly that I knew right then and there that you weren't just messing around. Even though I couldn't understand it, you loved my son and it was fucking hard Frank because I wanted to hate you, I still do!"

Frank still didn't truly understand, he knew that Don was trying to reassure him in his own way that he didn't hate him, but it didn't make any sense. He wasn't making it any clearer; things still weren't okay between them. Would their relationship mend in time? Or would Don always just ignore him and choose to look down at him and everything he had done? Simply because, in the end, it was easier to ignore then to deal with the complicated emotions.

He didn't know what to say, he couldn't understand why Don was still looking at him with such loathing if he claimed he didn't hate him.

And then it happened, the eye contact was broken and Don turned away. He took another sip of his beer, his fingers clutching at the neck of it tightly whilst his free hand by his side curled up into a fist with the same inner fury. Frank didn't move away or flinch, he wasn't about to be hit, he was about to see the fury at last.

"God damn it Frank!" Don burst out, apparently not able to hold it in any longer. "You two always had something, from the very start! Why couldn't you have just fucking told him you liked him when you first saw him? Why'd you have to wait so fucking long and ruin everything he had built?"

With those final words Don waited for a reply but one never came, Frank was speechless, what could he say? He had met Gerard long ago but he didn't think he liked him, not back then, or had he? There was no way of knowing and life didn't work like that. It always picked the wrong time for all the right things to happen. It sucked.

When Frank continued to stay silent, Don merely sighed deeply and went back into the house, leaving Frank alone with his thoughts looking out over the backyard.

They hadn't solved anything, they still weren't any closer to getting along and Frank began to seriously wonder if it would happen at all. Could they ever get past everything that had happened?

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Frank knew exactly where he was going, he also knew that he definitely shouldn't have been driving. He vaguely remembered Ray and Bob running out of his house to stop him, but by then, he already had his foot planted down hard on the accelerator.

The drugs were wearing off and the alcohol was still swimming around in his head, drowning his brain. Without the high of the heroin, he was suddenly being hit with the realisation that something wasn't right. Don was dead ... that was depressing.

His good old friend misery was sitting right next to him in the car, waiting for that last protective barrier that the drugs gave him to wear off. Once that shield was gone, it would strike him down and Frank didn't want that to happen just now.

Half way to his destination he seriously considered turning around and racing back into the waiting arms of his two friends. Bob and Ray where there for him and he was pushing them away. He needed the company, he wanted it more then anything and yet he had been too stubborn to take it when it was there.

Gerard was no doubt already with his Mum and his brother, together they would be strong enough to overcome their grief, but Frank, he was once again utterly alone.

Finally he turned into the street he had been looking for. The street lights all melded into one long streamer of light and he was well aware that he was driving in the middle of the road. Frank was lucky that it was so late at night; otherwise he was positive he never would have made it to the house he had been looking for in one piece.

When Gerard's house came into view, Frank tried to park as close to the gutter as he could. Instead, he ended up driving up and over it at a dangerous speed. It was lucky for him he had enough love for his car to be able to put his reflexes into overdrive and pull up the hand break with a terrible screeching noise just before he smashed into the fence.

As he jumped out of the car and miraculously landed on his feet rather unstably, he had already forgotten all about the car accident he had nearly had. It was too late, he had tried to outrun it, but the grief was there at last, slowly swallowing him whole.

It was the site of Gerard's house that did it. Usually there would be at least one light on, a car in the drive way and the sounds of some old rock-band gently flowing out of Gerard's lounge room window. But tonight, there was not even the hint of human life within it's walls. Everyone was gone; Jack, Lindsey and Gerard were all off somewhere else together ... Frank was truly alone.

With a heavy sigh he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stumbled towards the backdoor. He knew the house wouldn't be unlocked, but he knew where Gerard kept the emergency key.

Frank wasn't sure what he had been hoping for, but the moment he got into Gerard's dark and desolate house, he seriously wished he hadn't of come at all. He longed to be back in his own house, drinking until he passed out with Ray and Bob. They had been there for him and if they knew where he had driven off to, they would still be there for him. But as it just so happened, Frank's stubbornness was once again to blame for his loneliness.

Now that he was at Gerard's he had no idea why he had come at all. There was no logical explanation for it. Still, he was there now and he was suddenly aware that he wasn't even sure how he had gotten there. Did he drive? He couldn't really remember the drive there at all now, he definitely shouldn't get back into that car, he was stuck there.

Frank's feet seemed to move around the house on their own, he had walked up the stairs without even realising it and he was now standing in the middle of Jack's room. His bed was unmade, his pajamas scattered on the floor. There was no sign of the dark haired boy and Frank wondered why he even thought there would be.

Feeling over-whelmed, feeling defeated, Frank swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall and wondered back out into the hall. The next room he ventured into was Gerard's. It was even messier then Jack's was and it smelt of cigarette smoke. Frank closed his eyes and inhaled; as he did so, he could almost picture Gerard still lying in his bed, sleeping soundly, just waiting for Frank to arrive.

When he opened his eyes again, there was just an empty bed.

Sighing heavily, Frank made his way over to the chest of drawers that sat just next to the bedroom window. He knew what he was looking for; he still remembered where Gerard liked to keep all of his things and sure enough, in the top drawer, was Gerard's shoebox filled with photos.

Frank had always been the organised one, he loved keeping photo albums, but Gerard always stored his away in a messy heap inside a closed box or a locked drawer. It was almost as though he didn't like to look at photos unless he really needed to. At that moment, Frank needed to, if only to remember how things used to be.

Sure enough, he found a photo that seemed to meet his needs. It was taken far too many years ago, when My Chemical Romance had just released their second album, 'Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge'. Don was standing in the middle of the photo, a huge smile plastered on his face as he wrapped one of his arms around the long haired Gerard's shoulders and the other around a much younger Frank with half black, half blonde hair.

It was the picture that represented everything that Frank missed. He missed the simplicity of his and Gerard's relationship back then, he missed the proud and happy Don and he fucking missed the band that they would be playing in straight after the photo was taken.

Frank's lip trembled and his hands shook as a stray tear finally squeezed itself free and rolled down his bruised and swollen cheek. Swearing loudly at himself for getting so emotional, he sat on Gerard's bed, placed the photo by his side and pulled out his lighter and his packet of smokes from the pockets of his jeans.

He placed one of the smokes in-between his lips and immediately lit it, sucking in the fumes with great eagerness. It instantly calmed him and he swiped away the tear and went back to studying the photo.

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Frank held the bottle of Jack Daniels tightly in his hand as he stared at his unexpected visitor in disbelief.

When he had heard the knock on his front door he honestly had no fucking idea who it could have been. No one visited him any more, mainly because he was hardly ever at home. Since his break-up with Gerard and the splitting of 'Leathermouth', Frank had taken to spending all of his time at some random club or other. Nobody knew where to find him anymore and he liked it that way.

He had opened the door, not sure what to expect because he honestly didn't know who he had left anymore. Ray and Bob were still there for him but they had decided to give him some space after he had promptly told them to fuck off and mind their own business the last time they had confronted him about his involvement in the collapse of 'Leathermouth'. Mikey had visited as often as he could, but Frank understood that his loyalty would always be to his brother and so had politely asked him to stop coming around as well.

His parents still tried to call and Jamia still tried to visit him to make sure he was doing alright, but they to eventually got sick of his negative attitude.

The last person in the whole fucking world Frank had expected to be standing in his doorway was Don Way - Gerard's fucking father! They had barely spoken a word to each other through the whole three year relationship that Gerard and Frank had shared and now suddenly, after their separation, there he was, coming around to no doubt rub it all into Frank's face.

"What do you want?" Frank said, taking a swig of the alcohol in his hand as he glared at Don dangerously.

Don just stared from Frank's fierce glare to the bottle in his hand and then he simply shook his head as he pushed past him and entered his house. Just like he always did when Frank and Gerard had lived together, Don inspected the state of Frank's home with a critical stare.

"When was the last time you cleaned up around here?" Don finally spoke, as he took in the empty beer bottles, piles of clothing and half-full take-away containers lying around everywhere.

Frank just stared at Don in disbelief. He couldn't understand why he suddenly cared what state his home was in, it's not like Gerard or Jack lived with him anymore, he didn't need to take of himself or anything he owned for anyone anymore.

"Seriously, what the fuck do you want?" Frank repeated, unsure if Don had heard him the first time.

Don stopped inspecting the house and sighed heavily as he approached Frank with an expression that was hard to read. Was it pity? Was it disappointment again? Frank didn't know, but it still bothered him. He still cared what Don thought and he fucking hated himself for it.

"Jesus Frank ... what the fuck are you doing?" Don suddenly said, with an air of defeat in his voice.

It was such a simple question, there was no anger in his tone, he just looked Frank up and down with a sad look in his eyes. Instantly Frank took a few steps back, he didn't want this from Don, not now. After all the shit he had put him through over the past few years, there was no way he was going to let him act this way now.

"Why are you here?" Frank shot back, aware that they were getting nowhere when neither would answer the others questions. "Aren't you fucking satisfied enough? Gerard's fucking gone! Jack's gone! They've gone back to their perfect little lives. He left me, that's what you wanted isn't it?"

"Frank ..." Don said calmly, trying to stop him.

"It was all my fault! I was a bad fucking boyfriend ... or whatever the hell I was. He enjoyed me whilst he could and then he left me!" Frank continued to shout, his emotions getting the better of him.

Don already knew all of this, Frank was merely spelling it out to him, pure and simple. There was no reason for Don to be around there anymore, he didn't have to act like he cared what happened to Frank.

"God Frank, would you listen to yourself. You want my answer? No, I'm not satisfied Frank, not one single bit," Don responded, leaning over the kitchen counter rather then stepping any closer to the furious Frank.

Immediately Frank grew hot with anger. He placed the bottle of Jack Daniel's on the kitchen bench and stared at Don with watery eyes. He couldn't help it, that was it, he was going to fucking cry!

"You did nothing but ignore me and look down at me when we were together and now you've just come around here to rub my face in it! What the fuck do you want from me?" Frank snapped as he could no longer contain the tears and they began spilling from his eyes.

He hurriedly tried to wipe them away because there was no fucking way he wanted to cry in front of Don. But it was too late, the more he tried to stop himself the more the tears started to fall from his eyes. It was no use, Don had won, Frank had nothing and no one and he finally felt defeated.

Instantly Don's face changed. He made a slight movement as though he was trying to get to Frank and he licked his lips nervously as he ran a hand through his hair. It was a gesture that reminded Frank of Gerard. He had never really noticed any family resemblance until now.

"Fuck Frank. I've known you since you were that little pink-haired kid playing in that shit punk-band of yours. I wanted to slap you around the head and knock some sense into you every time you lit up a joint or came over to our place showing off a new tattoo or a new piercing. When you joined my boys and started playing in that band with them, you were as good as a fucking son to me," Don said, his eyes not leaving Franks even though he wished they would. He was full out crying now and he really didn't want Don to see him like this.

Finally, Don stepped around the kitchen counter and took a few steps towards Frank, slowly closing off his much needed personal space. Frank just sniffed loudly and hastily tried to dry his eyes, but nothing he tried was working. The hopeless, lonely tears kept falling.

"I was so mad at you Frank because you left your wife!" Don continued, his voice softer now. "You were ruining the life that you had built for yourself to. That was the only reason I put you through so much shit! Don't think you were so put-out, Gerard got the same treatment you did. For three years I ignored the both of you and I'm a down right fucking fool for doing it. I never wanted to tell you two how to run your lives, I just got so mad because I realised I had no control anymore. You two had grown-up, you were capable of thinking for yourselves ... you didn't need me anymore."

Frank took a shaky breath as he tried and failed to shut out Don's words. He had wanted to hear them for years, he had been waiting to hear why Don was so mad at them and now he knew. Yet, he didn't want to understand, he wanted to hate Don, everything was so much easier that way. Caring about people got him nowhere, it didn't work for him, he only got his heart broken.

"I am so angry at my son for doing what he did Frank. If you two were having problems he should gone about it like a proper relationship and spoken to you about it all first. Believe it or not Frank, I wanted you two to get it right. I wanted you both to be happy."

Don let out a heavy sigh as he studied Frank closely. Finally, he reached out a hand to gently touch Frank's arm. To over come by grief and the frustration at having shown that grief to the one person he constantly tried to be strong in front of, Frank pulled away.

"Nobody wanted us to be happy!" Frank snapped back in-between sobs. "Nobody thought we'd make it. Everyone's saying I told you so and telling me how much better it is this way ... It's not fucking better! Not for me!"

"Frank!" Don said, loudly and firmly as Frank's tears kept flowing and he buried his head in his hands. "I know you must be going through hell right now, but you're fucking throwing your life away! I know he messed up, believe me, I know that now, but you can't keep drinking and doing all these drugs and expecting to wake up day after day. Because one day Frank, you won't wake up and what then? What will Jack do without you? How do you think Gerard would feel?"

Attempting to pull himself together, Frank sniffed loudly as he finally looked at Don again. Now he understood what he was doing over at his place; it wasn't to laugh at his misfortune and tell him just how much he had messed up, it was to make sure he was alright, it was to make sure he didn't mess-up his life. Don did still care about him. After all those years, he still cared.

"Gerard may be my kid, but I'm not going to take any sides. You had your chance with him Frank, you both just weren't ready. Let him have second best, because I know that Lindsey will only ever be second to him. But he's got Jack and he's got her and we both know that he never really had you Frank; he'd call his mother whenever you were gone, he missed you because you were never there. I'm only saying this because you need to move on Frank. You need to move on before it tears you apart. I love you like a son and I don't want to see you in pain," Don explained, his voice low as he tried once again to clasp Frank tightly by the arm.

This time Frank didn't pull away because the words sunk in and he knew that they were right. He had been spending so much time with the band, he had left Gerard and Jack for days on end without so much as a phone call, he had a family and yet he was neglecting it, all because there were times when he took it all for granted.

It was out of pure desperate loneliness that Gerard had run back to Lindsey and Don was right. He was much better off. Lindsey would always be second, but sometimes second is far better then first. It was fucking lonely at the top.

"I just fucked it up so badly," Frank finally said, his emotions getting the better of him as he raised a hand to cover his teary eyes.

Nothing else was said as Don gave Frank's arm a gentle tug and pulled him into his body. With nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, Frank let himself be hugged but didn't have the strength to hug back.

"What are you crying for?" Don suddenly said, rubbing Franks back as he continued to sob into his shoulder. "I always said you were a fairy Frankie ... never would have guessed I was right."

Just like that, Frank laughed. He couldn't help it. It was such a Don thing to say. The side of the man he hadn't seen for years was suddenly back as though nothing had ever happened and even though he had tears in his eyes and a hole in his heart, he couldn't help but smile.

He had known Don for years, but never had they shared a moment like that one. It had been a long struggle, but Frank suddenly realised that he had had Don's approval all along. Frank was being treated the same way as Gerard, they had been in it together the whole time.

Don Way was merely trying to watch out for his sons. Because that's what Gerard and Frank were; his messed up sons.

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"Fuck," Frank cursed loudly as he tried desperately to wipe away the non-stop flow of tears.

He honestly wasn't sure when they had started, but now they wouldn't stop and he continued to swear loudly as he took deep breaths and willed them to end. Crying wasn't going to bring Don back and ... Don was never very fond of tears. He could almost hear his voice in his head telling him to stop crying like a pansy.

Frank almost laughed at that. Almost ... but there was nothing to laugh about ... Don was gone.

"Fuck Frank ... that was hands down the worst park I have ever seen."

Instantly, Frank thought the voice was still in his head. It didn't belong to Don, but it couldn't belong to the person he thought it did. There was no way. Gerard was miles away, with his real family, he didn't have time for Frank.

But when Frank finally tore his eyes away from the picture and looked up towards the bedroom door, there stood Gerard, standing there with his hands by his side and a sad look upon his pale face.

"Gee? What are you doing here?" Frank asked, wishing he could reach out ... touch him, hold him, just to make sure he was real and that his grief and the heroin weren't driving him into insanity. "I - I thought you'd gone back home."

"Last I checked Frank, this was my home," Gerard stated simply as he continued to stand by the door inspecting Frank from afar. "What happened to your face?"

Frank laughed lightly as he thought back over his night. It was certainly a story they could both appreciate at a later date, but for some reason, the moment he thought back over it all, he was hit with a great sense of loss and just as soon as it had started, the laughter faded and Frank found himself burying his head in his hands as he started to cry.

It didn't take long before he felt a pressure on the bed next to him and he lifted his head just in time to see Gerard's own tear strewn face before it disappeared into Frank's shoulder. They sat there, arms wrapped around each other, crying softly. The whole moment seemed so surreal.

Frank gave them a few moments and then he took one last deep shaky breath before he put a final stop to the tears. It was Gerard's turn to grieve; Frank was done now it was his time to be strong for him once again. After all, Gerard was there for him now, right by his side. He could touch him and smell him; he was real. That was all Frank had really wanted.

"We have to be on the plane in three hours," Gerard finally said, in-between small sobs as he too seemed to calm himself down.

The hug ended and Frank almost screamed at Gerard to never let go. It wasn't right, without his touch he felt like he was going to slip away again; it felt like this still wasn't real, like Gerard was still really hundreds of miles away and just a figment of Frank's imagination.

"What's wrong?" Gerard asked, biting his lower lip, clearly noticing the intensity behind Frank's stare.

Frank just shook his head as he tried to reason with the thoughts that were hysterically bumping into one another inside his head. The alcohol clouded his mind though and as his brain was currently out of action, he decided to think with the other one instead. Without a moment’s hesitation, Frank lifted his hand, grabbed the back of Gerard's neck and pulled him in closer until their lips were crashing together.

He was still well aware of the fact that he was well and truly drunk, but at that moment it didn't matter. Gerard was kissing back, he could feel the pressure against his lips and that was insensitive enough for him to keep on going.

Gerard's hands immediately found the hem of Frank's shirt and it was the first item of clothing to be removed from their bodies. Gerard's fingers traced his tattoos as though fascinated by them and Frank groaned into his mouth as goose bumps covered his entire body.

The noise seemed to spur Gerard on and there was a moment's struggle where both of them tried to force the other down onto the bed before Frank finally realised what was happening and gave in, letting his back hit the already disheveled blankets as Gerard crawled on top of him.

Frank was already hard, it hadn't taken much, and the moment Gerard rubbed up against him whether accidentally or not, he bucked his hips forward and kissed back furiously. Instantly, Gerard pulled away and sat upright and for a fleeting moment all Frank was aware of was the pounding of his heart inside his chest.

He was sure that was it, that it was all over. The moment was broken, Gerard had realised what he was doing and was going to put a stop to it, but Frank was thankfully mistaken. With shaking hands, Gerard fumbled around with the button and fly on Frank's jeans. It took Frank a few seconds to realise what was going on before his own hands were attacking Gerard's pants to.

The only noises that broke the silence of the empty house were the two of them moaning in ecstasy as they rubbed up against each other. Gerard was on top and therefore in charge and Frank had no idea how far he was willing to take what they were doing. All Frank knew was that Gerard's erection felt so good grinding against his inner thigh and that he was going to come any moment if he didn't change his tactic soon.

As though sensing that Frank wasn't going to hold on much longer, Gerard stopped his movements and pulled away, once again, just enough to leave Frank wondering if it was all over. But with amazing strength, Gerard grabbed Frank's shoulders and managed to flip him onto his stomach with a little help from Frank - when he actually realised what Gerard was trying to do.

Neither of them spoke as Gerard pushed himself inside of Frank in one swift movement. There was no preparation and there was no concerned words about how the other was doing. It was quick and it was messy and Frank was positive that they never had any time to get themselves into a steady rhythm.

Gerard found that special spot inside of Frank quickly and simply held tightly onto Frank's hips as he continued to push as far into that spot as he could. Frank bit his lip as he moaned in pleasure and the moment Gerard started to move again, he knew he was finished.

His fingers dug into Gerard's pillow and he arched his back and thrust forward into the mattress as he came. The tightening of his muscles must have set Gerard off as well because Frank was aware of a few breathy moans in his ear before Gerard was pulling out of him and collapsing onto the bed.

Frank just lay there, his chest heaving, his body sweaty. He didn't trust himself to speak, nor did he trust himself to move. They had been in it together, but Frank had initiated it ... he had no idea how Gerard would feel once that high from his orgasm was gone and his mind began to race with feelings of guilt and betrayal.

Needless to say, when Gerard's hands snaked around Frank's stomach and he rested his head in the crook of Frank's neck, he was able to let out a sigh of relief as his whole body finally relaxed. Gerard continued to kiss and suck gently at his neck until sleep must have finally hit him hard as his arms went slack and Frank was met with the soothing sounds of his breathing in his ear.

Frank turned his head to the side enabling him to stare at the sleeping Gerard. He had always known that he and Don had shared something special. From the beginning it was the one thing that bonded them together.

That day, Frank realised what it was. The one thing they both had in common, the one thing that drew them together - Gerard. They both loved Gerard.

Perhaps Don had been right after all. Perhaps Frank had always loved Gerard, right from the very start.

With a great deal of effort Frank turned his body the other way, Gerard shuffling slightly at the sudden movement. On the floor next to his discarded shirt, Frank spotted the photo of himself, Gerard and Don.

"Goodbye Don," Frank said, before wrapping his arms around Gerard and falling asleep to the sounds of his breathing.

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AN: Sorry it took so long guys and sorry I'm not too good at writing sex scenes, LOL! The next one will have no more flashbacks, just to give you guys a break. So yay!!!!! And it will get straight back into the story at hand. Hope you enjoyed XD