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 Fourteen - I'm sorry, but this is just how things have to be.

"Woah Pansy! Easy there girl!" Frank called out after the retreating dog as he quickly grabbed his beer and stopped it from falling. "Watch where you're swinging that tail.”

Pansy simply wagged her tail even more vigorously at the sound of Frank's voice. She barked enthusiastically at him and lowered her chest to the ground, tail in the air, waiting to play.

"No Pans, I'm not in the mood," Frank whined, hating to turn down the playful puppy but really not feeling up to another fruitless wrestling match with a Labrador.

Ever since his rather disappointing conversation with Gerard in the car yesterday, he seriously wasn't up for much more then lounging around in his sweat pants and drinking beer. Even if it was before midday.

"Be a good dog and grab me another beer from the fridge," Frank asked his puppy, waving his bottle around in front of her watchful eyes.

Pansy's tail stopped wagging as she cocked her head to the side and studied him in confusion. It was as though she was trying to understand what he was saying but just couldn't quite grasp people talk just yet.

"Don't worry, I'll get it."

Frank rolled rather unceremoniously off the lounge and made his way to the fridge, pulling up his slowly slipping pants as he went. He passed the ever-growing Labrador and patted her on the head affectionately. When he made it to the fridge he pulled it open and grabbed himself another ice-cold beer. But, before he could even twist the top open, he sighed heavily and for a moment simply looked around and frowned deeply at what his life had become.

He thought that maybe, just maybe, if he could get his act together again then everything would be alright. So what did he do? He got his act together of course, and what did it fix? Nothing! Nothing at all.

"Men and women Pans, they're all the fucking same. I can't understand any of them!" Frank exclaimed, spreading his knowledge off relationships onto his attentive dog as he finally opened his beer.

Frank had barely slept at all that night, he was too busy wondering what the hell was bothering Gerard now. There was only one thing that gave Frank the slightest inkling of satisfaction and that was the fact that whatever was bothering Gerard this time, it had nothing to do with him.

After all, Gerard hadn't really been mad at Frank, he was more confused, perhaps upset at the path his life was taking. Either way, there was something else and he was sure of it, something new. But that only made Frank toss and turn even more, because what the fuck else could happen to them? What else could be thrown at their already crumbling lives?

Either way, the only thing keeping Frank going was the knowledge that, this time at least, not everything was his fault.

"Shit! Pansy ... No! Bad dog!"

At the sound of his ringing cell phone, Frank instantly slammed his beer down onto the kitchen counter and made a dash for the ringing object. But he was far to slow for Pansy and on cue, she barked loudly, ran to the table, placed her two front paws onto it and moved her mouth around until she could firmly grasp Frank's cell in-between her teeth.

"DROP IT!" Frank shouted, getting used to the way she felt the need to steal his phone every time it started ringing. This was definitely an annoying re-occurring event.

It appeared as though Pansy wasn't on her game today, either that or she could sense the frustration in her masters voice and decided to give him a break, because she didn't make a run for it but rather stood there, wagging her tail vigorously, waiting for Frank to wrestle it out of her mouth.

"Give me that ... Shit! It's covered in slobber Pans!" Frank whined as he pried her jaw open and rescued his phone.

Pansy barked at him playfully as he dried the phone with his shirt and quickly answered it when he was satisfied that he wouldn't get a thick layer of drool attached to his face.

"Hello," he said loudly as he grabbed Pansy's collar and did his best to drag the barking dog outside so he could actually hear whoever it was on the other end.

"Hey dude, what you doing?"

It was Mikey and Frank couldn't help but smile at the sound of his friend’s voice. He had been seeing and hearing a lot from Mikey lately; he didn't mind in the slightest.

"You know, the usual," Frank said through a yawn as he scratched his tattooed chest and made his way through his house and to the front door.

"Lying around drinking beer?" Mikey asked, just to clarify he still understood what 'the usual' was.

"You got it!"

Frank stepped outside, down his path-way and to his letter box where he flung the back open and rummaged around for any letters inside.

There was a grand total of four letters. One was his phone bill, another was his electricity bill and another was some form of junk-mail for sure. However, the last letter caught his attention as it was definitely something new and he opened it with increasing interest.

"I just called to see if you, I dunno, maybe wanted to hang out today," Mikey continued to speak in his ear.

"Sure man, I'd be lying if I said I was too busy," he responded, unfolding the letter and getting the shock of his life when he realised what it was. "Holly shit Mikes!"

"What?" Mikey said loudly, clearly concerned at Frank's sudden change of pitch.

Frank ignored his friend for a few moments whilst his eyes quickly scanned the letter in his hand. He wanted to make sure he understood what he was seeing correctly.

"What Frank? What is it? Hello?" Mikey continued in a hurried, almost desperate voice.

Frank just laughed in disbelief when he realised that what he held in his hand was his, all fucking his! And he had actually earned it to!

"For fucks sake Frank! WHAT IS IT?" Mikey shouted, snapping Frank back to reality.

"Get your skinny ass round here A.S.A.P Michael. We're going shopping!" he said simply and with that he ignored Mikey's hurried disarray of questions and hung up the phone.

He walked up to his beer, skulled it with a new sense of enthusiasm, marched to the back door and flung it open for the still extremely excited and worked up Pansy.

"We're fucking rich!" he shouted, jumping around enthusiastically as Pansy's hyperactivity seemed to suddenly step up that extra notch to far.

With one great high-pitched bark of excitement at Frank's craziness, she lept up and onto him like she did when she had been a little puppy. Only problem was, Pansy wasn't as small as she used to be and Frank wasn't as tall as the average male and he caught her rather awkwardly and tumbled backwards onto the carpet.

Pansy barely even flinched at the small accident and she continued to bounce all over Frank and lick his face with the energy of a child with A.D.D. on red drink and junk food.

Frank simply let himself be smothered by the energized animal; after all, he was too happy to care.

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"Is this real?" Mikey asked, waving the cheque around in front of Frank with a stunned look on his pale face.

"You bet your sweet ass it is!" Frank shot back, still smiling.

From the moment he discovered the cheque in his letter box, he had not stopped smiling. It was a royalty cheque for all the extra money the movie 'Love is all you need' made. Apparently, as it was thanks to Frank's failed concept album that the movie ever actually came to be, he was still entitled to a certain percentage of the prophets.

He rang his lawyer to confirm that everything was in order and was now buzzing with excitement at all the money he had just came into possession of.

Sure, Frank had never been one to care about trivial things like how much money was in your back account or how big a pool you had in your back yard, but it was certainly nice to be rewarded for his talents. It reminded him that he wasn't useless, that he still had talent left in him yet and that people would pay good money for it. It was like one last thank you and it felt fucking awesome.

"That is so cool," Mikey practically whispered as his eyes misted over at the thought of exactly how many old arcade games and comic books this amount of money could get them. "... and please don't talk about my ass."

Frank burst into laughter at Mikey's last comment and snatched the cheque back off him so he could stare at the six figured number again in quiet disbelief.

"Who would have guessed that that shitty movie would have raked in so much money," Frank said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Mikey simply rolled his eyes at the comment, clearly amazed at how Frank could still resent that movie and it's creator so much after receiving a pay check the likes of which he himself had never ever seen, not even when their band was at it's highest peak.

"So ... what are you going to spend it on?" Mikey asked, nodding his head when Frank pulled out a beer and looked at him questioningly.

"I'm not too sure yet but ... I have more big news," Frank announced, twisting open his own beer and taking an eager swig.

"More? Man, this is the most interesting you've been in a fucking long time," Mikey shouted excitedly and Frank merely scowled.

"What are you talking about Mikes, what Frank have you been hanging out with? My life is full of more drama then the fucking OC."

"Sex stories and you and my brother bitching gets old after a while," Mikey said simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "Tell me the big news!"

"Okay ... but you should probably sit down for this one," Frank encouraged, pointing to his lounge chair where Pansy was finally curled up and sleeping.

Mikey hurriedly took a seat and patted the dog with one hand as he raised the beer to his lips with the other. His eyes never left Franks and they were filled with eagerness.

Frank took a deep breath. "I wrote songs."

Mikey stared, the hand on Pansy stopped and his beer almost fell from his hand.

"Songs? What kind of songs? L-like for the band, those kinds of songs?" Mikey asked, staring at Frank a little expectantly as though waiting for the punch line or for him to yell that he was just joking or something.

For a split second Frank thought that Mikey was going to behave the same way as Gerard. What if this never happened? What if he read them all wrong? What if Mikey had decided to settle down with Alicia after all?

"Frank! Y-you mean songs for us ... songs we can use for My Chemical Romance," Mikey practically yelled when he wasn't getting an answer.

"Y-yeah ... they're not finished or anything and they still need a lot of work, but I figured we'd all want to do some work on them anyway, like we used to," Frank said rather hesitantly as he realised that Mikey’s expression was quite unreadable. "You're not mad are you?"

"Mad? MAD!" Mikey continued to yell at Frank as his butt moved to the end of the lounge and his beer lay forgotten about in his hand. "Are you fucking insane? How the fuck can I be mad? Frank you fucking wrote songs! We're going to be a band again!"

With that Mikey leapt out of his seat and let out a very uncharacteristically loud cry of delight as he punched his fist in the air triumphantly. Pansy was awake and up on all fours again instantly, she barked at Mikey’s excitement, her tail a complete blur as she lunged from the lounge and towards him unexpectedly.

She landed with her back paws down and her front two on Mikey, throwing him completely off balance. He just managed to save his beer as he tumbled to the ground and he held it up out of the way as Pansy licked every bare inch of his flesh she could find.

"I wanna listen, do you have recordings? Put it on!" Mikey's voice was slightly muffled under the mass amount of fur that was smothering his face.

"W-well I can't just yet. I've given all my notes and stuff to Gerard and -"

"WHAT?" Mikey squealed, if possible, his voice even louder then it had been so far. It took him a few minutes to wrestle Pansy off him and scramble to his feet and even then the excited puppy would not stop jumping around them.

"Gerard's got the stuff for the songs," Frank repeated, feeling slightly warn out after all this excitement.

"OH MY GOD! FUCK! Frank ... is he going to sing? Is he going to write some to? Shit ... SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Frank ... this is huge. Dude! I'm pulling the bass out tonight! I want a copy of those songs man! This is it! I can feel it!"

By the time Mikey was back on the floor wrestling excitedly with Pansy, Frank's checks were aching from all the smiling. This was the reaction he had wanted from Gerard and whilst he didn't get it, Mikey was the next best thing. He would get them to come around, one band member at a time. Gerard would see reason when they were all together again, he would just have to.

"Dude, it's going to take me weeks to get Pansy to calm the fuck down again," Frank settled on saying instead.

Mikey barely even listened, he was simply so ecstatic about Frank's news. And Frank didn't bother stopping the craziness that was no doubt going to get out of hand very quickly. This was how things should be, he hadn't felt this fulfilled in years, he hadn't seen Mikey this hyperactive in even longer.

Everything was finally falling into place.

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Frank got a car.

It was Mikey’s fault, there was nothing wrong with the car that Frank already had, but Mikey insisted.

"You've got to buy something ... what have you always wanted?" Mikey had asked, the moment Frank had managed to sedate Pansy with a big fat, juicy bone.

"A black Chevy Impala," Frank answered after some thought.

It wasn't what he had always wanted, but truth was, the one thing he had wanted since he was a kid, with a weird obsession with Michael Jackson, was an old done up car he could cruise around in with his leather jacket on.

"Fuck yeah!" Mikey had shouted at him before grabbing Frank's keys and jumping to his feet.

And that was how Frank ended up taking the keys to his new black Chev from an old man in some town Frank had never even heard of, miles away from any sort of civilization. It was worth it though, the car was perfect.

The moment he test drove the car he knew he loved it, but it was thanks to Mikey's never dying enthusiasm that made him seal the deal.

"Fuck Frank ... j-just fuck," Mikey exclaimed as Frank took off at the traffic lights with an impressive growl from the car's engine.

"Is that a good fuck Frank, a bad fuck Frank or a kinky kinda fuck Frank?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the still grinning Mikey.

"The first one mostly, and maybe a bit of the last one," Mikey joked with a wink in Frank's direction.

"It's cause I own a sexy car isn't it?" Frank played along, enjoying the wind in his hair. It did, however, just remind him that he was in desperate need for a hair cut.

"It's cause you came through man ... you really fucking did," Mikey corrected him as he sunk lower into his chair, visibly relaxing. "With the band, with everything. You promised you'd fix it and you did."

Frank didn't say anything, he didn't need to, he just took the compliment and held onto it tightly. He was doing good, with everything. Not only did he apparently do something right with the whole movie deal, but he helped Mikey out, he took an important leap forward with the band and for once, Gerard was not pissed at him. It was refreshing to say the least.

"So ... where are we going?" he finally asked, not really wanting to go home just yet.

"Well, I was wondering if we could go see Gee, I've been kinda worried about him since dad, you know," Mikey said, noticeably going slightly quiet.

"Oh ... y-yeah sure Mikes, that’s fine," Frank replied, slightly put off at how weird Mikey had been when he asked.

Frank took a hard right so that he was heading in the right direction for their new destination. There was an awkward silence in the car now and Frank could feel Mikey’s eyes on him every so often. What the fuck had just happened? Why did things go so weird at the mention of Gerard?

"Hey Mikes, don't mention the whole band thing around Gee just yet, he wasn't in the best mood the other day when I gave him the songs," he decided on saying to break the silence. Perhaps Mikey's sudden weirdness had something to do with Gerard’s behavior yesterday.

Frank wasn't sure if he should prepare himself for bad news or what. After all, fate had a funny way of giving him something great only to take something irreplaceable away. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to loose anything just now. He was so ecstatic that he was finally getting things right that if one more thing went wrong he would just fucking give up on the lot.

"Yeah sure ... don't mention the band - got it," Mikey said back to him, finally smiling again.

It should have reassured Frank that everything was fine, but there was still that nagging at the back of his mind that told him he was going to get a serious kick back down to reality pretty soon. The reality that life sucked dick, and apparently Franks more then anyone else’s.

They drove in silence the rest of the way to Gerard’s house. Frank was so close to just asking Mikey what the hell was the matter, but in truth, he didn't want to know. They had been discussing Gerard earlier that day without any problems, now that the excitement had died down slightly it was clear Mikey was remembering some thought or other that was making talk of his brother a rather awkward topic of conversation.

To Frank, that just spelled bad fucking news all around. After all, he was certain things hadn't seemed this awkward between them in a long time. Mikey had taken a while to recover from the whole hotel incident many, many years back and it took months before he spoke to Frank again back then. And they had been best friends!

Something definitely felt off once more. In a big way.

Yet, by the time Frank pulled into Gerard's drive way and made his way up to the front door, he and Mikey were talking and laughing animatedly again as though nothing had even happened. In fact, Mikey's excitement over everything had only escalated once more. So much so that when Gerard opened up the door, Mikey practically launched himself at him.

"Gee!" he shouted, hugging his brother tightly and startling him slightly. "What did you think? Have you looked at Frank's songs yet? Are they good?"

Frank rolled his eyes, after all he had told Mikey not to bring it up due to Gerard's bad mood. Yet, he was Gerard's brother and what did he care if he was in a shit mood, they were friends till the end, guaranteed, that was the best thing about being family. You could push all the wrong buttons and know that at the end of the day you will eventually make up.

For a moment or two, Frank actually envied their relationship.

"Woah! What's got you all excited?" Gerard asked, grinning despite himself at his brother’s happiness. Good moods do tend to spread like a deadly virus sometimes.

"You're kidding right? Gee, we fucking have songs ... we're getting the band back together bro!"

At all the shouting, a weary looking Jack joined the three of them out in the hallway, staring at his Uncle in confusion as he did some kind of retarded happy dance.

"Jacky!" Mikey squealed, startling the poor kid slightly as he was picked up off his feet and spun around in his Uncles arms.

"Mikes, I haven't looked at the songs yet," Gerard said with a heavy sigh, trying desperately to stop the insanity.

Whilst Mikey put a still slightly startled Jack back on the ground, his smile fading slightly, Frank continued to do what he had been doing since the moment Gerard had opened up the front door ... stare.

He had been studying Gerard very closely, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the way his hair laid flatter then usual as though it hadn't been washed in days, how his skin was a shade of pale that Frank didn't think possible for a living human being. His pants even sat rather lower on his hips then usual as though he hadn't been eating right. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before Gerard said something to kill Mikey's joy and now here it was.

“What’s going on? Why are you so happy Uncle Mikey,” Jack asked, staring at Mikey and giving him a small grin.

That was when Frank noticed Jack.

As usual, he looked exactly like Gerard. Which today unfortunately meant that he looked just as pale, just as tired, just as miserable. What the fuck was going on? Had Frank been so absorbed in his own life that he was failing to notice the obvious problems in the lives of those he cared about?

Mikey completely ignored Jack’s question and clicked his tongue loudly at Gerard.

“What do you mean you haven’t looked at the songs?” Mikey questioned, his good mood fading so quickly that Frank wondered if this all had something to do with why Mikey had suddenly acted so weird in the car.

“I’ve been busy Mikey, you know that!” Gerard snapped far too quickly at his brother.

“Too busy to have a look at a few fucking lyrics?” Mikey snapped back as Gerard looked even more pissed that his brother had sworn in front of Jack. “Come on man, you're being a stubborn dick head!”

To Franks great surprise, Gerard took a few angry steps towards his brother and for a fleeting moment he thought that he was actually going to lash out and hit him! It was at that moment that he dared to step in, after all, this was getting out of hand.

“Hey Gee ... it’s cool, you don’t have to look at them yet if you don’t want to. Why don’t you come for a spin in my new car,” he offered, hoping that Gerard would get distracted at the prospect of something new.

“New car?” Jack offered, his face brightening slightly at this news. Frank wasn’t sure if his young mind could quite pick up on the distraction that he was trying to create, but he was glad for his helpful enthusiasm.

The distraction did what it was supposed to, Mikey and Gerard stopped death staring each other as all attention was now on Frank. Unfortunately, that didn’t quite go as it was supposed to, now Gerard’s hatred and anger was directed at him.

“I don’t even have time to look at some stupid songs Frank what makes you think I have time to go for a drive with you two,” Gerard announced, so harshly that Frank instantly felt slightly defensive and thought about throwing a couple of punches himself. “Some of us actually have to work hard for there shit Frank.”

With those final words Franks eyebrows shot upwards in surprise and he actually snickered. He would have said something, anything in his defense, but Mikey reached out and grabbed Gerard by the arm roughly.

“I think you and I need to have a little talk,” Mikey said with surprising calm considering moments ago they had been about to beat the shit of each other.

Frank was positive that Gerard was going to continue to fight, but to his great surprise, he just took a deep breath and let Mikey drag him off towards the kitchen. Of course, that only left Frank and Jack standing there in the aftermath of the fight.

“You alright Jacky, you look kinda tired,” Frank said, urging himself to calm down.

Truth was, he was fucking pissed. How dare Gerard accuse him of not working hard for his shit, Frank had done nothing but work his ass off to help not only himself but everyone else get their lives back together. All he asked for was a little attention and praise from the one person that mattered to him most. Gerard.

“Daddy’s been really upset,” Jack offered with a small shrug and for a second Frank thought he was going to cry.

Frank let out a heavy sigh as he pulled Jack closer to him and hugged him tightly. He didn’t want Jack to feel like Gerard’s bad mood was his fault, the guy had a lot of issues, he always did and Frank was seriously beginning to wonder if he would ever get out of this slump he had recently slipped into.

“Did you really get a new car Frankie?” Jack asked as he pulled his head back far enough from Frank to look up and talk.

“Sure did. Wanna come out for a drive?” he offered and was relieved to see a smile spread across Jack’s pale face. “Awesome. Wait here and I’ll tell your dad.”

With that, Frank let Jack go and get a jacket and put on some shoes whilst he took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen. All through his conversation with Jack he could hear the raised, angry voices of both Mikey and Gerard. He didn’t care about walking in on their argument though, truth was, he was just so over it.

He walked into the kitchen and thought for sure that his heavy footsteps would give his presence away, but neither Mikey nor Gerard seemed to notice right away.

“Fucking hell Gee, you know you’re going to have to tell him eventually don’t you. It’s only fair,” Mikey said before Gerard’s eyes locked with Franks and Mikey spun around to face him to.

There was a moment’s silence which only confirmed Frank’s fears that they had in fact been talking about him. He didn’t ask what Gerard had to tell him though, he didn’t even bother to say anything in regards to what he had just over heard. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it.

A sick feeling was already crawling around in Frank’s stomach and he knew that today was not the day to hear any bad news.

“Can I take Jack out?” he asked quite simply, breaking eye contact with Gerard rather hastily.

“Um ... yeah, sure,” Gerard said, slightly thrown off at Frank’s question. Clearly he had been expecting a drilling as to what they were talking about.

Frank merely nodded his head in understanding and left the room, Jack was already waiting for him and he swung his head at him to signal that they were out the door and that he was therefore allowed to go for a drive.

They waited silently in the car for Mikey to join them and when he finally did he eyed Frank worriedly and gave him a small pity smile. Frank barely even noticed, he merely turned the key and floored the ignition a little harder then he had meant to.

“Where are we headed?” Mikey asked, his voice quiet as though afraid he was going to aggravate Frank.

“Bob’s place. Figured the least I could do after he saved me from being beaten to death by a pimp was to visit him,” Frank said with a shrug.

“What’s a pimp?” Jack questioned, tuning into the conversation at all the wrong times like only a six year old could do.

“Nothing Jack, what do you want to listen to?” Mikey offered, turning on Frank’s radio and searching for a station.

“There! Stop there,” Jack shouted when Mikey passed a station that was playing The Cure.

Frank laughed silently to himself; after all, Gerard and Jack were simply too much alike. But, the thought of Gerard only made that sick feeling in his stomach return.

“Go on, ask me,” Mikey said, making sure that Jack was busy listening to the music before addressing Frank.

“I don’t want to know Mikey,” Frank snapped, wishing that they could just go back to that morning when everything was happy.

“You should ... you deserve to,” Mikey shot back in frustration, it was clear he had enough of being the middle man for one day.

“No I don’t Mikey!” Frank snapped back, just as frustrated. “Gerard and I are long over, we both know it. He’ll be married to Lindsey soon, what’s done is done. I don’t need to, nor do I want to know every detail about his life anymore.”

Mikey just sighed and shook his head as he glanced back at Jack one more time to make sure he was still obliviously unaware of the conversation going on in the front seat.

“I’m not stupid Frank, I know my brother and I know you, far too fucking well. My brother doesn’t risk his relationships on people he doesn’t care about,” Mikey said, watching Frank closely.

“What are you talking about?” Frank asked, annoyed at these pointless riddles Mikey seemed to be throwing at him today.

“I’m talking about the night you two spent together before flying to New Jersey and attending Dad’s funeral!” Mikey almost shouted.

It was clear he was angry, after all, Mikey hated it when his brother ruined his family last time to be with Frank, this time it was different though. Mikey was angry there was no denying that but it was almost as though he had expected this to happen. Frank wasn’t sure if he had the right to be pissed or not anymore. After all, Mikey was being dragged through just as much shit as they were.

“Look Mikes, I’m sor-”

“I don’t care Frank, it’s none of my business what you two do, you’re both adults. I just wish that Gerard could sort himself out, it seems that he’s been fighting his whole life for something and now that he’s got everything, he’s lost track of what he was ever really fighting for. I can’t explain it any better then that. Just ... please Frank - don’t give up on him yet,” Mikey suddenly said, surprising Frank completely. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Frank sat in silence letting everything sink in for a few moments. By the time he pulled into Bob’s drive way, he had had enough silent time to think over what Mikey was asking of him. What gave him the impression he had given up? Frank and Gerard had been through too much to just forget about each other, perhaps Mikey just needed to hear that Frank wasn’t going anywhere.

Frank was important in Gerard’s life; even he could see that, maybe Mikey was concerned about what would happen if he decided to end the friendship indefinitely. That wasn’t his intention, it never was, yet part of him was extremely worried that whatever Gerard had to tell him would strain that friendship indefinitely.

Not having anything to say and feeling slightly paranoid about what Gerard would tell him when the time was right, Frank didn’t say anything back to Mikey.

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It was like the day had begun all over again when Mikey and Frank left Bob’s, because they were both smiling again, that sense of excitement as something big was just around the corner returning to them in full force.

Bob had been more thrilled then Frank had ever seen him before when they showed up on his door step. His wife was out and he had just gotten his twin girls off to bed so he looked worn out but happy. That happiness was nothing compared to the amount he let flow from him when Frank and Mikey proudly announced that they would like to try and get the band back together.

Despite the wrist operation he had had and the promise of taking it easy indefinitely, he practically picked Frank off his feet and crushed every bone in his body as he pulled him into a tight hug.

“You better not tell me this is a joke. I’m so up for this you have no idea. Yes, yes, yes! Please Frank, there's too many girls in this house, I need to do something manly again before I forget the location of my balls!”

Frank took Bob’s rather crude statement as nothing but sheer joy. The big guy was almost crying he was so happy. He begged to see Frank’s songs stating that now the girls were starting to take after him and sleep more heavily then was humanly possible, he could attempt to play the drums without waking them.

That conversation was followed by Frank, Mikey and Bob having to explain to Jack what exactly the balls they were referring to were and why Bob had to locate them before the twins woke up and Bob sadly had to say goodbye.

Frank dropped Mikey home first at his request and he had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with him wanting Frank to be alone with Gerard when he dropped Jack off. They parted ways in a much better mood and Mikey even pulled Frank into another grateful hug before he walked purposefully towards his home, no doubt eager to tell Alicia about the news.

Jack scrambled into the front seat and yawned.

“Why are you so tired?” Frank asked, concerned at the fact that Jack looked just as warn out as his father. “Does it have anything to do with your Dad and his bad mood?”

“Both Mum and Dad. They keep fighting because they’re stressed,” Jack offered as he rubbed at his eyes and yawned again.

“About the wedding?” Jack just nodded in response.

“Well you know Jacky, you can come stay with me anytime you want,” Frank suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

But he wasn’t even sure if Jack had heard him or not because when he next looked to him he was fast asleep. In fact, he was sleeping so deeply that Frank had to carry him out of the car and to Gerard’s front door.

“Frank?” Gerard asked, rubbing at his own eyes as he swung open the door and studied him closely. “Shit ... what time is it? Come in.”

He moved out of the way so that Frank could carry Jack inside and put him to bed. It had been a while since Frank had gotten to tuck the kid in and fuck did he miss it. He gently lowered Jack’s head onto his pillow and pulled his blankets right over his shoulders so he wouldn’t get cold.

For a fleeting moment Frank was taken back to a day when Jack was only three years old. Even though Gerard put Jack to bed nearly every night back then, Frank always snuck into his room to make sure he was tucked in and to kiss him goodnight whenever he got home, no matter how late or how tired he was.

Jack was always asleep when he did it, but somehow he must of known because one day when Frank was so sick with a stomach bug that he could barely move, Jack snuck out of bed and into Gerard and Frank’s room to pull up the covers right over his shoulders and kiss him delicately on his burning forehead.

Frank just stared at the six year old and felt a deep sense of love wash over him. He couldn’t understand why it happened right then and there but it did and he reached out a hand and gently brushed Jack’s over grown, dark fringe out of his eyes and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

“Night Jacky. Don’t worry kid, I wont give up on you or Gee, no matter how much he pisses me off,” Frank said, answering the question that Mikey had been so desperately asking earlier as though he thought the answer would be more or use to Jack then to Mikey.

When Frank was satisfied, he made his way back down the stairs and begun his search through the peacefully empty house for Gerard. He found him sitting out the back by the pool, a beer not far from his twitchy, needy grasp.

“Where’s Lindsey and Jess?” he asked, starting the conversation with a simple question.

“Jess is staying at one of her friends places and Lindsey is away with the band for a few days,” Gerard responded, reaching for his beer and drinking deeply from it.

Frank nodded in understanding and took a seat in the chair next to Gerard’s.

“Sorry I’ve been in such a bad mood Frank,” Gerard said sheepishly as he took another sip of his beer. "I'm just stressed ... You know how much I hate these big weddings."

Once again, Frank nodded as he just stared at the gentle ripples forming on the surface of the pool. Gerard was drinking. One drink and he was completely unwound and relaxed, because one drink meant another and another and another and to Gerard that was relaxing, that was peaceful and that was comforting. It was only because he had alcohol that he was apologizing.

For a moment Frank even felt bad. Gerard had never been a rude or violent drunk, he was always so happy, so peaceful and yet unfortunately so self destructive. He wasn’t that bad yet; he was merely enjoying his alcohol as a sedative almost. Who were they to try and take that away from him again? Didn’t he deserve to sit back and just forget about his problems for one night like Frank did almost every night?

“I can’t read the lyrics Frank,” Gerard said, taking it upon himself to speak again.

“Why?” Frank asked with a heavy sigh.

“Because it’s you, every word. It’s your deepest most inner most soul leaping out of you and onto the paper and ... fucking hell Frank, I can’t handle that,” Gerard continued, picking at the sticker on his beer for the distraction.

Frank didn’t respond right away. After all, what was he supposed to say to that? It was true because that’s what lyrics were supposed to be, Gerard knew that better then anyone. So many times Frank had almost died waiting for Gerard’s lyrics, just so he could know what he was thinking, what he was truly feeling.

“I’m not re-joining the band Frank ... I can’t.”

Gerard’s words broke through Frank’s thoughts like a sharp knife and Frank actually flinched as though he had been cut. Because everyone was just a little bit selfish and Frank didn’t want to hear that from Gerard, not now, they were so close.

“Why not?” Frank asked, unable to help himself.

Gerard simply sounded too sure, too final and Frank hated that. He hated that more then anything else ... this wasn’t right. Gerard even sounded almost pleased with his decision. Frank couldn't handle this, it wasn't supposed to be voluntary, there was supposed to be some other reason so that Frank could annihilate it and everything would be back to normal.

When Gerard didn’t answer, Frank only got more agitated.

“Look Gee, I can understand that things are different now, you have a family, I get that. But Jack wont be six forever and hell, we can just tour closer to home, you don’t even have to be away for all that long. Plus, Lindsey’s still in a fucking band, she hasn’t given up anything why should you have to give up everything,” Frank snapped, his voice raising more and more as he spoke. He needed Gerard to see his point.

“You don’t get it Frank!” Gerard shot straight on back like Frank knew he would. “I have my comic, that’s all I even wanted. And ... F-Frank ... I can’t be around you alright! I just - I can’t fucking ... I just can’t be near you.”

Frank stared at Gerard in complete shock. This wasn’t what he had expected. Why didn’t he see this coming? Was this what Mikey had been talking about? Was this what Gerard had to tell him?

“Gee ... I -”

“Frank,” Gerard interrupted, swallowing hard and staring at his beer rather desperately. “Lindsey’s pregnant.”

Frank felt his blood run cold and that knife that Gerard had been unknowingly swinging around stab him through the heart over and over again. At Frank’s stunned silence, Gerard hurriedly continued.

“S-she hasn’t been well, the doctor said it’s still early but he’s pretty sure that it sounds like all the symptoms of pregnancy. A-and even if she’s not right now Frank, one day she will be again. I mean, we’re getting married, it’s expected! I can’t be away Frank, I can’t be around you. I need to be here for my family, I can’t mess this up again and if I leave with you then I will.”

There were a million horrible thoughts and feelings running through Frank’s head, but only one thought made sense.

He had lost.

All this time Frank had fought and fought for Gerard, refusing to give in, but now it was all over. How could he compete against this? Gerard had always been about family, that was all he seemed to live and breathe for. Now he had one and Frank wasn’t part of that ... he never was.

Gerard was admitting he loved him; he couldn't be around him because he would want to be with him again. But, it didn’t even fucking matter any more. No matter what Frank did or how hard he worked, he couldn’t give Gerard what he wanted. Frank couldn’t give Gerard a family. And his love for his family, for Jack, and his instinct to do the right thing by them was stronger then his love for Frank. He couldn't compete against that!

They could play house and fuck each other every night if they wanted to but it made no difference. Gerard would always have attachments to Lindsey, real, living attachments in the form of little people, in the form of his kids. Frank could pretend as much as he wanted, Jack wasn’t his son, he would never be. Gerard knew it, Lindsey knew it. They were better then him, they were his family, not just some random guy that his Dad decided to experiment with for a few years.

Suddenly, everything Frank had lived for recently disappeared through a giant crack in the earth.

He was left with nothing.

Not one single thing.

“Look Frank, I’m sorry ... b-but this is just how things have to be,” Gerard said before drinking down the rest of his beer nervously. “Jack needs me, Lindsey needs me, Jess needs me.”

Franks pity seemed to die away and he was filled with an untamable rage. After all, he had just lost everything; there was nothing worse then a man who had just lost everything. It meant they had nothing else to lose.

“Jess doesn’t need you Gerard, she’s a lost cause that one,” Frank spat out without thinking. Some part of him felt that he still had to fight and for some reason it seemed easier to lay the blame on someone.

Gerard just hung his head and tisked loudly at Frank's childishness. Even Frank couldn't believe he was dragging Jess of all people into a stupid fucking argument, he was being an idiot.

“What the fuck are you talking about Frank, you're just being stupid, you don’t even know Jess,” Gerard said, trying to remain rational as Frank clearly wasn't.

He didn't like that Gerard was being so calm; he didn't like that he was speaking to him like a child. Gerard had just dropped a bombshell and he didn't even care about Frank's feelings on the matter. He was beyond caring about his blame game now.

“I know her a lot better then you do Gee and I can tell you what she’s really like,” Frank said, his anger only rising when the reminder of the news that Gerard had just spilled came back around to stab him again.

He knew he was angry, he knew it would pass, but he couldn’t help it. Somehow he had always known that he wouldn’t win and yet, he always had just that small inkling of hope. Now that was gone, completely gone. The band was nothing without Gerard, he was nothing without Gerard.

“Fucking hell Frank, where is this coming from? She’s a good kid, she fucking worships you, she always asks how you are or if you're coming around to visit. She has pictures of you all over her school folder and ...” Gerard suddenly trailed off as though tossing some thought around in his head.

Frank just continued to glare at the pool angrily. Part of him actually wondered how hard it would be to stick his head under and just stop breathing all together. But he knew he had to breathe, this would pass, tomorrow he would wake up as optimistic as ever, it had just been a long day.

He was ready to call it quits, to just walk out of there and go home to a bottle of vodka and bed. After all he was fucking arguing about Jess! He guessed that secretly he was still trying to fight for Gerard, still trying to make him see that nobody was perfect, that life was messed up and it didn't matter who he was, Jack would understand.

Unfortunately though, Gerard wasn't quite ready to quit this new topic of conversation and Frank almost did dive into that pool out of pure shock at his own stupidity. It was time for that hard kick back down to earth.

“Frank, how the fuck did you know Jess?” Gerard asked, startling Frank into paying attention.

The first thought that leapt into Frank's exhausted mind was, what the hell kind of a question was that?

“You introduced me, here, remember?” Frank shot back, getting slightly angry at how Gerard was still sticking to this topic, didn't he know it was just Frank looking for someone to blame? It was always easier to blame someone you were already pissed off at.

“No, no, no! You recognized each other ... you fucking knew her already!” Gerard exclaimed as he suddenly stood up from his chair and towered over Frank.

And it was at that moment that Frank’s eyebrows shot up as realization kicked in. He had fucking slept with Jess, Gerard didn’t know that ... yet! He was a smart man, he had figured it out! But how? Why now?

Why did he have to fucking bring up Jess? What was wrong with him?

“I-I met her at a CD shop before, that’s it. She was listening to one of our old CD’s and she struck up a conversation with me,” Frank offered hoping to throw Gerard off the dangerous path he was headed down.

Gerard shook his head vigorously and continued to stare at Frank in disbelief.

“No, she told me you had never met before, if you simply met at a CD store then why didn’t you tell me about this before? Why wouldn’t you tell me about that? Nothing wrong with meeting someone in a CD shop unless you fucking took them back to your place Iero!” Gerard shouted, staring at Frank intently.

It was too late; Frank knew his expression had given him away. Gerard knew him to well, knew how he would pick up any random and take them back to his place if the offer was there. But he wasn’t like that anymore, lately he had changed, this wasn’t his fault!

“Frank! Answer me!” Gerard yelled again, grabbing Frank and pulling him to his feet.

“I didn’t fucking know how old she was! How was I supposed to know?” Frank shouted back, pulling his arm out of Gerard’s death grip.

It didn’t really matter though; all he did was free up Gerard’s fingers enough so that he could roll them into a fist and bring it plummeting down towards Frank’s fragile face. After all, being beaten up was becoming a regular thing for him as of late.

Frank stumbled slightly, mainly out of surprise. After all, Gerard had never thrown a punch with that much strength in it before. This was something else, Gerard was beyond pissed and Frank didn't blame him. He never even dared imagine how Gerard would feel about all this, it was best not to.

“What sort of a fucking excuse is that?” Gerard shouted, the non-existent colour on his face draining so much his face almost glowed in the light. “H-how could you - why would you - Frank, she’s fucking sixteen! How could you not know?”

Recovering from the punch, Frank took a few steps away from the yelling Gerard. Frank wanted to say something, but he had no fight left. After all, he had known this discovery was coming for a very long time and it was the best time for it. Frank had nothing now, no purpose, no hope, he may as well be beaten up by the one person who ruined his chances at everything.

“FUCK! Frank ... sixteen! That’s fucking illegal! Don’t you ever think?” Gerard was running out of things to say, he was beyond furious.

Frank wasn’t even scared, he was just angry at himself. Gerard looked so pissed off, so hurt, so worried about what he was supposed to do with this discovery that Frank hated himself for putting all those emotions onto his perfect face.

“I didn’t fucking know! I’m sorry, I’m a complete fucking idiot for not seeing it but I didn’t know! She came onto me, she asked to come back to my place ... I didn’t know!” Frank tried one last time, but Gerard was beyond listening to him now.

“Frank, you need to get out ... seriously. I don’t want you coming around here, I don’t even want Jack around you, just fucking, get out,” Gerard said, his voice much lower now but the rage still there.

Frank didn’t need telling twice, he needed time to think, Gerard needed time to cool off, they both just needed to get out of each others space. With one last pleading look at Gerard to somehow find it in him to forgive him, Frank left via the side gate and headed straight for his car.

He climbed in and started the engine, the fury in him only rising now that he was away from the yelling Gerard. How dare he be pissed off! He had every right to be on a fucking bender back then and make mistakes, Gerard had fucked with his head back then and he was doing it again now.

He knew, he always knew that Frank would be there for him. Now he was calling it quits and Frank was just supposed to smile sweetly and move on?

With an angry cry he chucked another hard right and headed in a direction other then home. It wasn't where he wanted to be right now, not at all.

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

Frank had lost track of where he was, why he was there and who he was with. He couldn’t even remember the time or the fucking day, nor was he trying.

“I need another of these mother fucking ones,” he slurred, waving his glass around in front of the one face he did recognize. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadam ... it’s your turn to pay up or ship out.”

He giggled and nearly fell off his chair whilst Adam tried his best to stand and walk to the bar in a sober fashion.

Now Frank remembered.

He was at a bar, he had met the band there. Not the band he used to be in, those friends seemed like a long lost memory now. No, these were the members of ‘Pledge for the broken’ his new band, his new friends. After all, he would never get the old band back now, this was it. This was his new life.

Adam returned with a round of drinks, his hands extremely unsteady for someone who played lead guitar with the perfect precision that he usually possessed. Frank found that amusing to and started giggling again.

"So tell me why you called me up so late and made me get fucked with you?" Adam said, leaning over the table to get closer to Frank as though the alcohol was making him go deaf somehow.

"An old friend found out I slept with his sixteen year old step daughter - or daughter in law - or whatever the fuck she's supposed to be," Frank explained, giggling again when Adam merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Big fucking deal! I slept with a fifteen year old once, I swear to god I had no fucking idea! You should have seen her man, looked at least twenty five or some shit. Anyway, parents got suspicious, police turned up at my door and everything, didn't matter if she wanted it or not, I was the adult, I was the fucking bad guy. Luckily she had some form of a heart and told the police her parents were wrong and that we hadn't slept together. And that's why I'm not in fucking jail right now!" Adam said, barely paying attention to his own story as he watched a fly land on his beer and became completely mesmerized by it.

Even though Frank was too drunk to really take in what Adam had said, he appreciated the general gist of the story. Basically, he wasn't alone; this stuff happened even if it shouldn't. Gerard would realise that and cool off eventually, but that still didn't change the fact that the trust would be shattered.

“Fucking bastards!” Kennedy, the bands drummer, said angrily as he joined Frank and Adam at the table. He sat down with such force that the whole floor seemed to shake.

“What’s up with you two?” Adam asked as their singer, Steven, sat down on the last vacant chair wearing the same expression as Kennedy.

“Those guys over their playing pool,” Kennedy said, pointing towards the one and only pool table, carelessly placed right opposite the live band playing that night where people were trying to dance.

“What about them?” Frank asked, studying the guys closely.

There was at least six or seven of them and they were all staring at Frank and his band members and whispering and laughing to each other. Frank felt a wave of anger roll around inside of him. He didn’t like being laughed at.

“Wont let us have the pool table,” Steven said, folding his arms across his chest and staring at the guys at the pool table intently. "They've had it for hours! It's our turn!"

“Fucking bastards!” Kennedy repeated, accepting one of the remaining beers from Adam eagerly.

“God this music sucks! We could play way better then this,” Adam slurred, waving his half empty beer around and blinking a lot slower then was normal.

Now Frank could remember a little bit more about what happened after he left Gerard’s. Their argument. It was big, bigger then any they had ever had. He liked to think it would get better, that he would wake up tomorrow and everything would be fine, but he was in a deep state of self pity and therefore headed to the one place that he knew could make him feel better.

A bar. With alcohol.

One phone call and he had Adam there as well.

Adam was not only the lead guitarist for the band but the drug supplier as well. Problem with smaller bands is that there’s always a lot of drugs and alcohol. It’s like a written rule or something. Frank had gotten past that stage with My Chemical Romance, now he was there again. How did his life take such a great big fucking leap backwards?

So, when Adam arrived they had taken their beers outside, smoked a few joints, snorted a few lines. By the time Kennedy and Steven arrived, Frank and Adam could barely walk straight. That was probably why Frank had resorted to staying seated and asking his friends to get him beers.

Gerard wasn’t far from his mind though. And that was probably why he kept handing over the money for more alcohol and stepping outside for another joint or another line. Frank didn’t care about anything but getting so fucked up that he forgot all about the fight. Forgot about the fact that the resurrection of My Chemical Romance was over with, forgot about the failed struggle to win Gerard back and forgot about the fact that he wasn’t allowed to see Jack anymore; the closest thing he had to son, the closest fucking thing he had to real, unconditional, unwavering love.

“I’m out,” Frank announced as he skulled his beer at the thought of Jack and slammed his empty glass back onto the table a little harder then he had meant to.

“And that’s your last one Iero, you’re the very definition of fucked,” Kennedy announced, making sure to include his favorite word in every sentence.

Frank liked that he could rely on Kennedy. Even if the only thing he could rely on was him using the word fuck in every sentence, it was better then nothing.

“Give the guy a break, he lost his fucking kid tonight,” Adam said, remembering back to the deep and meaningful they had had earlier.

“What? I didn’t know you had a kid,” Steven quickly threw in, being the only married one in the band he liked to hear about everyone else’s’ love lives or families.

“I don’t! He’s not mine,” Frank said, wishing he had a bottomless glass of beer.

Honestly, he hated that these guys didn't know him, he hated that he had to get to know a whole other band. As much as he liked them all, it just wasn't the same. He didn't belong in another band; they never, ever worked out.

“Ohhhhh! I get it. Same thing fucking happened to me,” Kennedy offered, passing Frank his beer out of sympathy. "Darn bitch had me paying child support for years."

“No you don’t get it. Completely fucking different,” Frank slurred, waving his hand around dramatically and nearly knocking over the beer that Kennedy had just given him.

“Fuck I want to play pool!” Steven whined, glancing longingly at the pool table.

Every time Steven or Kennedy made eye contact with the guys at the table, they returned to their death stares and secret whispering and laughing. It only took Frank a few moments before he was on his shaky feet and trying to stagger away from the table.

“Wait, Iero, where you going?” Steven asked, being the most sober and therefore the mother of the group.

“To get you your fucking pool table,” Frank replied, continuing to stager away.

He heard the scraping of chairs and knew that his friends were close behind, ready to help if things got ugly. Frank hoped things did get ugly, that was the only reason he had stood up in the first place. His knuckles ached to be used.

"Hey ... I think it's time you let somebody else have a go," Frank said as he walked up to the group of guys hanging around the pool table in what he hoped was a straight line

Two of the guys looked at each other and laughed as Frank just tried his hardest to behave. One of them looked him up and down and shook his head as though doubting someone of his size could ever take them on.

Naturally, they had all consumed far too much alcohol that night and before Frank really knew what was happening, Kennedy had stepped forward and punched the guy closest to him right in the jaw. One of his friends made a swing at Kennedy but he ducked just in time, unfortunately Frank wasn't fast enough and he coped the blow right on the side of his face where Gerard had got him earlier.

"Fuck Frank, sorry man," Kennedy threw in as he made a dive for the guy that had lashed out at Frank.

Frank simply shook off the disorientation and joined the full fledged fight that had now broken out between his band mates and the group who wouldn't surrender the pool table. He had no idea how many times he was hit, he really had no recollection of what he was doing, his mind was blank as he swung and kicked out blindly, the last of the alcohol was kicking in and Frank was ready to simply crash.

"Stop it the lot of you or get the fuck out!" one of the guys behind the bar shouted out as he ran over to the violent group.

"They fucking started it," the guy closest to Frank called out in his defense.

"Did not," Adam shouted back from somewhere to Frank's right.

The fighting finally died down and Frank found himself breathing heavily as his hands clasped tightly onto a thick arm that was wrapped loosely around his neck. When he was let go he turned around to see a guy with dark brown hair and a bleeding cut on his forehead grinning at him as though he found the whole situation highly amusing.

"I don't care who started it, just stop now or I'll call the cops," the bartender warned as he looked relieved that the fighting was beginning to stop.

As Frank took in more of the scene around him he noticed that most of the people drinking at the bar that night had joined in on the fight. Most of them were helping up whoever they had just been pummeling or were already retreating back to the bar to order more drinks.

"Fuck!" Kennedy called out, rubbing at the lump that was already forming on his forehead.

Adam was picking himself up off the floor looking remarkably unscathed whilst Steven lowered the pool cue that he had been holding sheepishly as though ashamed he had ever resorted to using a weapon.

"I think you guys have earned yourselves a game of pool. Whaddya say? Us vs. you pansy's?" the guy that had Frank in a head lock moments before said still looking highly amused.

"Sure ... that'll fucking do," Kennedy said, looking at Frank in disbelief as he just shrugged his shoulders.

Frank was lucky he was used to these kinds of fights; after all, he spent a lot of his early twenties attending Eyeball Record parties that would end up something just like the night that he was currently experiencing. Drunken, disorientated fights was really the only way to make friends. Now they were going to play a game of pool with the very same guys they had just set out to beat up.

"Here buddy," Adam slurred as he stumbled towards Frank and handed him another beer.

He must have been pretty drunk because one minute Adam was just getting up off the floor, the next he was playing pool and handing out beers. He had lost all sense of time and all Frank could do was laugh lightly to himself as he sipped at his beer.

"You playing Frank?" Steven asked, holding the pool cue out for Frank to take.

The faces of the others that they had been fighting with moments before were all watching him expectantly. The dark haired guy that had been particularly beating on Frank during the fight was watching him with great interest, it was slightly unsettling.

"Na, I gotta wee," Frank replied, giggling at himself as he struggled to stand, Steven just smiled back at him and shook his head.

"You're drunk," Steven said to him. Meanwhile Adam was wobbling dangerously on his feet as his eyes seemed to struggle to remain open. Frank wondered if he looked that wasted to.

"Derrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," he sung out happily as he found his feet and staggered in the direction of the bars bathroom. He pushed the door open and staggered in.

Frank stumbled against the bathroom sink, giggling drunkenly as he looked up and into the mirror. It wasn't particularly funny that his lip was bleeding and starting to swell, nor was it funny that his ribs ached every time he inhaled. He was certain he would be feeling it all in the morning, but for now, he was just drunkenly numb.

For some reason, he just continued to clasp onto the bathroom sink for support whilst he moved his face closer and closer to the mirror, inspecting every gash and every bruise. When his nose bashed against the glass he just laughed at how close he was and slowly backed away. That was when he was finally able to take in the rest of his surroundings and he saw another person standing just behind him.

"You're lucky we stopped when we did," the voice said as Frank slowly tried to remember where he had seen this particular man before.

Then he remembered. The guy standing directly behind him was the one that had been kicking him in the ribs and that had him in a head lock right before the fight had been called to an end. Frank didn't really register him as a threat anymore; he didn't have a problem with handling himself against one guy ... even if he was fairly wasted. Plus, he figured they were all past the point of fighting now.

"Come back for more have you?" Frank slurred as he simply giggled when his legs almost gave out from under him.

"You could say that," the guy shot back as a large smile spread across his face.

His dark brown hair fell about his face as he stared at Frank intently for a few moments. All Frank could do was continue giggling stupidly as he realised, even in his drunken state, that the staring was making him feel quite awkward. He snorted back a laugh and quickly lowered his head to break eye contact with the guy before he completely lost it and started laughing so hard that he knew he would never stop.

Once again, Frank had no idea how much time had passed, all he knew was that a few more words were exchanged with the meat head standing behind him, words he knew had left his mouth but for the life of him he couldn't remember what was said. He was aware that the thug was standing quite close to him and that was when, to his great surprise, his brain slowly began to react to a slight pain at his neck.

"Ouch," Frank whined, reaching up a hand to brush away at whatever the fuck was causing him that irritating pain.

To his great surprise, his hand connected with flesh and he found himself looking back up into the mirror only to find that the dark haired guy who had once been standing behind him smiling was now biting and sucking at his neck.

He didn't really know why, but he tilted his head to the side, stretching his neck out more and giving this random stranger easier access. Apparently taking Frank's move as a sign to step things up a notch, the mans hands moved down to Frank's hips and rested on them as he continued to attack his neck.

If it wasn't for the mass amounts of drugs and alcohol he consumed he probably would have reacted a lot quicker to what was really happening to him. When he finally realised that this stranger was kissing his neck and inching his clammy hands around to Frank’s crotch, he instantly snapped out of his daze and moved his neck away.

Apparently the other guy didn't take the hint and he merely held more firmly onto Franks hips, and pushed himself up against his back so that Frank was pinned between this stranger and the sink.

"You're joking right?" Frank asked, his voice slightly shaky as he realised that this other guy meant business and he wasn't sure he was capable of fending him off.

After all, it had to be a joke. For one, this guy didn't strike him as the type who would fuck some random guy in a bar; he simply looked too straight for that. Then again, what did Frank know? Clearly he couldn't read people as well as he thought.

"Just relax," the other man responded, breathing heavily into Frank's ear.

Goosebumps spread through Frank’s body and the first thought to reach his buzzing head was that he really wished he had of stopped drinking and participating in the recreational drug taking hours ago. He was more then certain that he would have been able to defend himself against this guys advances with perfect ease.

Unfortunately, the whole event was one rather horribly rushed blur. One minute he was alone in the bathroom, his nose pressed against the mirror whilst he felt around his rib cage for broken bones, the next he had hands on his hips and a mouth at his throat. Now all he was aware of was that he was unintentionally aroused and there was a hand down the front of his pants, causing that arousal to completely deteriorate whatever brain cells he had left that were telling him to stop this guy or cry out for some kind of help.

All he knew was that there was nothing he could do to stop the inevitable and as it was, he wasn't even sure he wanted it to stop. The drugs had a way of exaggerating every touch and Frank found himself squirming around in slightly unwanted pleasure.

The breathing in his ear increased and he could hear the rustling of clothes behind him as the other guy no doubt released his own arousal from its material prison. Frank's vision cleared up long enough for him to get a good look at the image of himself and this stranger in the mirror directly in front of him. Instantly there was a harsh moment of clarity where he realised just what the fuck was happening.

Yet, he knew there was no point in trying to fight his fate now. Besides, he was positive that he didn't have one ounce of a fight left in him. The alcohol and drugs had stopped his brain almost completely; the only thing keeping him standing and apparently conscious was his other body organs and the lack of that one last drink that would no doubt send him off to blissful unconsciousness.

Therefore, Frank didn't stop the attack, he simply let it happen. After all, he didn't want to bitch and complain and cry out for help, he knew it wouldn't help any, not in a place like this. No, Frank didn't want to be some victim; he didn't want to be pitied or looked down upon because he was fucked unwillingly by some asshole in a bar.

"Fuck," the guy that was now violating Frank exclaimed in a cry of pleasure. Instantly he was snapped out of his own head and back to the reality, once again, of what was happening.

It was now far too late to do anything about his current predicament so all Frank had left to do was close his eyes tightly and try to imagine that it was somebody else fucking him and that they were both somewhere other then some dirty bathroom in a seedy bar. Naturally, the one person that came to mind was Gerard, the fight was forgotten about, they had made up, it was all he could do to distract himself.

With the drugs and the prospect of it being someone else that was having sex with him, Frank felt himself being pushed closer and closer to his climax and he prayed that the other guy was close to. No point in prolonging the inevitable and Frank just wanted this to be over with.

Apparently Frank must have given some sort of impression that he needed help with finishing, either that or this other guy just needed something to hold onto. Either way, the next sensation Frank felt was a hand tugging at his erect dick once more. It didn't take long for it to become anything short or pleasurable. Eventually he just felt sore and worn out and his drugged out brain was messing with him so badly that for a split second he was positive this guy was just going to jerk his dick right off.

Finally that special spot inside of him was hit one to many times and the pain momentarily disappeared as he finally climaxed and released himself onto the vanity in front of him. The other man groaned into his ear and swore one last time before he to came, luckily he pulled out of him for this rather unpleasant dispatch.

When it was all over, Frank knew it was time for the worst part of all; he had to open his eyes. All thoughts of some quick fuck with Gerard were evaporated as his eyes slowly opened and he caught site of the bars dirty bathroom sink and graffitied walls.

But the image wasn't as clear as Frank remembered it being before he shut his eyes. Apparently the momentarily lapse of vision had affected his brains bearings and the room spun violently as he clasped tightly onto the sink and tried to stay upright.

His knuckles turned white as he struggled to stay attached to the sink even though he felt he was tumbling sideways. Instantly the room seemed to stop spinning just as suddenly as it had begun and the result was Frank leaning forwards to throw up everything he had in his stomach into the filthy sink in front of him.

When he resurfaced, the room seemed to remain steady and he was able to look around his surroundings and finally just take in everything that had just happened. With trembling and disorientated hands he buttoned up his pants and tightened his belt until his blurry site finally landed on the guy who had just fucked him rather roughly in the seedy bathroom of a bar.

"Fuck you," Frank spat out, surprising even himself. That wasn't what he had intended on saying, but he felt it needed to be said.

The guys face contorted into anger and instantly he lashed out a fist and struck Frank right across the face. Frank was instantly throw into disorientation once again only this time he had nothing to hang onto and he tumbled to the bathroom floor.

And then there was nothing else to do but laugh. His high-pitched, girly laugh that made him look like some crazed drug addict at that moment as he was sprawled on a seedy bathroom floor looking, no doubt, beyond terrible.

"Fucking faggot," the guy spat out at him, clearly not impressed by his laughter.

Frank only laughed harder at this response. After all, this guy was the one that followed and fucked him, not the other way around. If anything, Frank should be the one calling out the names.

Shaking his head, the other man straightened up his clothes and exited the bathroom, leaving Frank all alone. He didn't mind, his head was still buzzing and he was still laughing at something he didn't even fully understand.

After what felt like hours, he finally stopped laughing and his body slouched even more heavily against the wall as he felt that low hit him hard. He was tired, he was cranky, his head was spinning and he felt unwell. Also ... What the fuck had just happened?

He tried to pick himself up off the floor, but it was a lot harder then his brain originally made it out to be. There was nothing to hold onto and he was terribly unsteady on his feet. His whole body felt strange, from his toes, to his ass, to his face, it all felt slightly detached as though it didn't belong to him. He felt sticky, clammy and irritated and his whole skin felt like it was stretched just a little too tightly around his insides.

Something told him that this was all going to hit him fucking real hard when he woke up in the morning.

It took three unsuccessful attempts before he finally found the strength to hoist himself up off the ground. He puked again in the sink and washed his face and mouth on auto-pilet. By the time he exited the bathroom and returned out into the crowded bar, it was as though he had only been in there a few minutes, everything was the same ... had he really even just been in the bathroom? He was definitely tanked.

"Hey man, Adams passed out, thought you had to, where the fuck you been?" Steven asked, looking him up and down with relief painted across his face. Maybe he had been gone longer then he originally thought.

"Pissing," Frank stated simply as he pushed past his band and headed for the bars exit.

"Where you going?" Simon called out after him, making to follow but stumbling drunkenly into some man ordering a drink.

"Home!" Frank called out over his shoulder.

And he didn't even stop to see if Steven had heard him or not. He had to get home; he had to make it into his bed before he passed out on the streets somewhere. There was nothing worse then being so drunk and out of it when you were around people you didn't know all that well. Because, after all, he didn't know Steven, Kennedy or Adam all that well. They just hadn't gone through the same shit as Frank had with his real friends.

He wasn't with Gerard, Bob, Ray or Mikey, he wasn't around his old band. He hardly knew these people and he certainly didn't trust them in the same way. All he knew was that when he was feeling this shitty and sick that he didn't want to be around them, he wanted to be with his friends, his family.

Yet, whilst he was glad to be out of the noisy bar, the moment he actually realised that he was crossing a road and practically running to god only knew where, he panicked. Where was he going? What was he doing? Why did he have to drink so much?

Which way was his home? He had a vague idea; he recognized some of these streets.

Frank crossed roads without looking both ways, stared at street lights in fascination at the fact that they wouldn't stand still, he tripped and stumbled and he threw up a few more times and somehow picked himself up out of the gutter more times then he could count before he finally began to sober up enough to stop the world from spinning out of his control.

He still had no sense of direction and he was still for every intent and purpose of the word, wasted, but he was away from that bar and that was all that mattered. Yet, he was alone, wondering the streets, where was he even going?

It was about time for paranoia to set in, Frank knew that and so he had been expecting it. Luckily it gave him the energy boost he needed to run for his life. And he kept on running until he turned into a street that had a series of houses that he instantly recognized.

He almost fell to his knees and kissed the footpath that he ran along. It wasn't his street, it wasn't his home, but it was home to someone that cared about him, someone that knew him.

When he turned into Gerard's front yard, he took a moment to catch his breath before he stumbled up to the front door and knocked.

Gerard was pissed at him, he remembered and he knew it was the reason he had drank so much that night, but he could explain. Gerard would take him in, Gerard would take care of him. Wouldn't he? Wasn't he mad? Madder then usual ... as in really fucking pissed?

There was no response and why would there be? Who knew what time it was, Gerard would be sleeping soundly. Frank made to turn and leave, but the sound of a door opening just behind him made him spin back around to face a rather disheveled looking Gerard.

"Frank, what the fuck? It's three in the fucking morning," Gerard growled, rubbing at his tired eyes in disbelief.

"I - I know ... b-but I -" Frank began, trying his hardest to catch his breath and make sense of what he was doing here and how exactly he had gotten there.

He was so busy trying to focus on what exactly he was going to say as explanation to Gerard that he forgot to keep himself steady and he would have tumbled right to the ground if it wasn't for Gerard’s hand quickly lashing out and grabbing a hold of his bicep tightly.

"You're fucking off your head Frank," Gerard stated angrily as he shook his head at him.

Instantly Frank knew he wasn't welcomed here. He had screwed Jess; Gerard had found out ... it was all coming back to him now. He would never spend time with Jack again, Gerard would never want to speak to him again, he had ruined everything!

"I just - I'm just - I only -" he tired desperately to think of some sort of explanation as Gerard studied him closely.

"Fucking hell Frank, have you been fighting? Did you get into a fight?" Gerard questioned, watching him closely. He must have looked worse then he originally thought if Gerard could tell he had been in a fight.

At that instant Frank felt slightly crowded. He couldn't even explain why. Gerard’s grip felt like it was burning a hole in his arm and he tried to weekly pull away.

"Gee ... let go," he pleaded, realizing that he didn't want to discuss his night with Gerard anymore. He wanted to go home, he didn't want to be reminded that he had messed up.

"W-what? No ... not till you tell me what happened. Did you do this because we had a fight?" Gerard asked, still watching him closely. "Did you go get drunk and beat someone up because we had an argument?"

Gerard shook his head as though extremely disappointed in Frank and that was all that he could take. It was all his fault, he deserved to be beat up, he deserved to be treated like shit, even Gerard thought so. What happened that night, it was self inflicted, it was his fault, all his fault.

For some reason everything just seemed to fall down around him and the reality that Frank had once again lost Gerard, for real this time, hit him like a tone of bricks. Suddenly, and to his instant horror, he found that he was crying. And not just the normal, gentle tears rolling down his face, tough guy crying that he usually did, this time it was raw pain.

If Gerard hadn't of tightened his grip on Frank's arm, he was positive he would have fallen to the ground and just curled up into the fetal position and cried and cried until he finally just fell asleep. But as it just so happened, he wasn't going to be able to this time, because at his sudden outburst of uncharacteristic crying, Gerard clutched on so tightly that Frank felt for sure he was going to sever his arm.

"Frank ... w-what the fuck?" Gerard asked for the second time that night, but this time there was nothing but fear in his eyes. "What's wrong? What happened? Y-you're scaring me."

Too many questions. Instantly Frank felt surrounded and vulnerable, it was horrible, this was all wrong; he had to get out of there.

"L-let go ... just let m-me g-go," Frank stuttered, tugging his arm away with such force that Gerard relinquished his grip out of pure shock.

"Frank wait!" Gerard said, still staring at him in apparent horror. "Talk to me, tell me what happened!"

But Frank didn't stay any longer then that, instantly he was off, stumbling down the road, desperate to get away. He was positive Gerard would chase him, perhaps get in his car and track him down. That was pure fear in his eyes, after all Frank had never cried like that. Not ever!

Naturally, not wanting to be caught, Frank took an alternate route home, the back streets. After all, what else could happen to him tonight? If Gerard had gone looking for him, then Frank's alternate route clearly worked because he made it home without running into him again.

Somewhere along the walk home, Frank managed to compose himself enough to stop his shameful tears. Eventually he was just numb and by the time he got to his apartment, he opened the door, stumbled to his room, stripping off the best he could along the way, before collapsing onto his pillow and finally shutting his eyes.

It was mere seconds before he finally just passed out into blissful nothingness.

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AN: Ummmmmmm, sorry? I dunno. It wasn't a bad chapter but it took so long to write that I felt it was a little forced and ... I'm just not sure. I don't hate it, but I don't really like it yet. Oh and yeah, sorry. But that's what happens when you get reall, really drunk and you're not around good friends who know you well. So yeah, don't worry, Frank will learn, he's just on a bender. Sorry for pissing anyone off (eep)! xx