FicWad

Frank was dying on the inside. Mikey could see it; Frank was never a very a good actor. Mikey knew the problem, but what was he supposed to do about it? He sure as hell couldn't tell Gerard, he would blame himself for Frank's state; it would crush him. But Mikey knew if he didn't do SOMETHING soon, it might be too late to save the guitarist.
He decided an intervention like conversation might help. He sure as hell couldn't do nothing. But Frank would avoid such an event like the plague, as shown by his previous actions. So Mikey had to corner him at his most vulnerable time. Which just so happened to be when he was on the toilet.
"Hey Frank," Mikey called through the bathroom door.
"I'm hurrying!" Frank yelled back, clearly aggravated.
"Not what I was gonna ask," Mikey said.
"So what the hell do you want?" Frank responded in an angry tone.
"Can I come in?" Mikey asked, sure this request would give him away. To his surprise, he heard a flush and the sound of a zipper and the answer he got was a, "Sure." He walked into the small room, and found a very annoyed midget.
"Now will you tell me what the hell you want from me?" Frank asked, spitting venom with his words.
"There is absolutely no denying the fact you have a problem, Frank," Mikey said, "Everyone is out of their minds with worry."
"Does it look like I care?" Frank spat viciously, "If I want to be fucked up, that is my business."
"But you're in the band with us, so it makes it our business too," Mikey responded. Frank gave Mikey his death glare, and Mikey decided it was time to bring out the big guns. "Just imagine what this is doing to Gerard,” he said
"How dare you use that against me!" Frank practically screamed, "I told you that because I trusted you!"
"And now I'm telling that to you so you stop killing yourself!" Mikey yelled back.
"I'm fine," Frank said, suddenly much calmer, "I'm going to be fine. Just let me deal with this."
"If I let you deal with this on your own," Mikey responded, "You're probably going to end up dead."
Frank got a calm expression at the thought of him dying, and it alarmed Mikey. "Look," he said, making one last ditch effort, "If you don't want to talk to me about this, fine. But please, PLEASE, talk to someone." Frank nodded, and wandered off the bus, still with that strangely peaceful look.
~~~~~~~
Ashley was lying in his bunk when he heard a knock on the tour bus door. He was the only one around-Jinxx and CC were at an interview, Andy was with Gerard, and God knows where Jake was-so he had to answer it. He groaned as I got out of bed, having had a long night, worrying about Frank for some reason. Ever since the “incident” Ashley couldn’t stop thinking about him. He wasn’t gay, he was sure of that, but...something about the way Frank had broken down made him feel...differently. He thought maybe the feelings had been there even before then, but seeing Frank like that just brought them to the surface.
When Ashley finally managed to drag himself to the door, who did he find but Frank. He had a peaceful look on his face, and that relieved Ashley. He was so sick of seeing him in pain, but then again this could just mean he was stoned.
“Can I come in?” Frank asked quietly, after a few moments of awkward silence.
“Sure,” Ashley said in reply.
Frank trudged in slowly and flopped down on the couch.
“What’s up?” Ashley asked tentatively, not sure he wanted to know.
“If I died tonight, what would you do?” Frank asked in a calm voice.
“I would cry,” Ashley replied, alarmed at the question, “I would mourn the death of a great musician and man. I would refuse to accept the passing and live in denial for several weeks. Then I would realize its true and cry again.”
Frank smiled slightly, and nodded. “You would be the only one,” he murmured.
“The question was hypothetical right?” Ashley asked, still unsure he wanted to know. Frank just chuckled darkly in response.
Ash moved off of the chair he had been sitting in and sat next to Frank. "Look at me," he said in what he meant to be a stern voice, but it trembled. Frank did as he said, and Ashley saw something in his eyes that he would never forget. He saw something broken, he saw something withered and dead, he saw something abandoned and left behind.
"Frank," Ashley practically whispered, "What happened to you?"
Frank bowed his head, and his fringe covered those beautiful and pained eyes. "It's a long story," he said.
"I got time," the other replied replied. So Frank told him.
He told about how he fell in love with Gerard. He told how it hurt him every time he saw Gerard in a relationship with another girl, but at least he knew he had never had a chance anyway. And he told that Gerard getting with Andy was the last straw because Andy was a boy. It meant he had a chance, a chance he didn't take. He told how he had spiraled downward, how he didn't see the point anymore. And with each word that left his mouth, Ashley’s heart broke a little more.
After Frank was done with his story, he was crying even harder than he had been the day he was raped. The worst part was, there was nothing Ashley could do. Andy was his best friend, so he couldn't break him and Gerard up; it would kill him. And what could he possibly do to help Frank move on? So Ashley did the one thing he could; he grabbed Frank some Skittles. He accepted them gratefully with a murmured "thanks".
"Frank," Ashley said, "I honestly have no idea what to say. I can't even imagine what it's like to be you right now. But it will get better. I don't know when or how, but it will."
A small smile spread across Frank's face, and he said, "Thanks Ash. For listening. I don't feel better in the slightest, but it helped a bit. I won't be dying tonight at least."
"And what more could we ask for?" Ashley replied, even though the thought Frank had been even considering that scared him, and hugged him.
"Ash," Frank said, quieter, "Can I stay over here tonight?"
Ashley nodded and said, "Sure, give me a sec though." He grabbed his phone and walked to the other side of the bus. He called Andy and told him to stay in the My Chem bus that night. He didn't tell him why.