Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance

Early Sunsets

by XKilljoyParadeX 16 reviews

Frerard One Shot

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2012-09-06 - Updated: 2014-12-01 - 3818 words

Early Sunsets

I guess I've known this day would come. I guess I've always known. Deep down. I've always thought that one day, something would just be too much. Something would push me over the edge.

But what I never counted on, was someone being there to save me.

I've always known how I'd do it: I'd find somewhere quiet and alone, I'd make sure no one knew where I was, I'd wait until the tears had stopped. And I'd slice my skin and watch the blood pour out; a river of hopelessness. Humiliation. Desperation.

I'd always known it would be this way; It was always only a matter of time. But that was before I met you.

It was a normal day. The kind of day when you never expect anything to happen - you know it's going to be the same as it always is. I was sat on the ground in the lonely park near my house, looking up at the grey sky; the clouds swirling and changing above my head, tiny droplets of ice cold rain falling onto me, slowly drowning me. I'd just had a big argument with my parents- they'd said I was pathetic. Stupid. Immature. 'Why couldn't I just grow up and stop being so depressed, get over it?'

They didn't understand. They didn't understand the voices in my head. Constantly telling me how worthless I was; taunting, daring me to do things to myself. They didn't understand how much control the voices had over me- what they could make me do.

That was the first time I saw you. You were walking through the park. We'd never met, but for some unexplainable reason, you saw me that day, and you knew you had to help me. You saw the pain in my eyes. You understood. So you came and sat next to me, letting your body drop next to my collapsed form. I looked up at you, eyes wide in silent question. You held out a cigarette to me: a peace offering.

"Hey," you said as I took the cigarette with shaky hands, "I'm Frank"

It took me a few moments before I managed a reply, forcing the words out of mouth as if they were poisoned. "Gerard" I choked out quietly, accepting your lighter as you began to smoke silently beside me.

You smiled at me as we both sat, silently, wondering what sudden twist of fate had brought us together. It was a lopsided, rough-around-the-edges smile. But It was real.

You sat beside me that day, until we were both soaked to the skin, and the New Jersey sun had begun to set over the dusty, concrete grey buildings. We talked. Well, you talked, I listened; taking in the glint of your eyes, your happiness despite the situation, as the day came to an end and the darkness overcame the city. That was our first day together.

We met again in the same place - the park on the edge of Monroeville - the next day, and the next, and the next. We started seeing each other a lot and began to grow closer. We would meet in the park, or at either one of our houses, almost every day. It was the summer holidays, so neither of us had school; we were free to spend our days with each other, talking, listening, laughing. For the first time in years I felt free again. When I was with you I felt as light as a feather, as if all my problems had dissolved away with the persistent Jersey rain.

Then, after six weeks of long summer days spent with each other, the holidays ended and we found out we went to the same school - Monroeville High. It was there that we spent endless hours on the edge of the field, skipping gym class, talking about anything and everything.

Our friendship was all I had, and sometimes I think it was all you had as well. You were always so much stronger than me, but we still needed each other.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Frankie" I said one day, using the nickname I called you so much, as we walked through the park.

"Good thing you'll never have to find out" you grinned back at me.

Life was looking up, I felt like I was slowly getting better.

That is until one day, I messed everything up. We had spent the day at my house; reading comic books, having fun. Then we decided to do something completely out of the ordinary. We decided to go to a party. An old friend of yours was hosting one and had invited you and 'a friend'. So despite my moaning and unwillingness, you eventually persuaded me to go. "It'll be fun, Gee, trust me" you said, grinning as you did my hair for me. So I did. I knew at that moment that I would have trusted you with my life.

As we entered the house I could feel the bass pounding through the building, bright colourful lights flashed in my eyes and a sea of writhing bodies stood before us. In a way, It was magical. The music was pure, running through our bodies like a drug as we got sucked into the mass of people. I looked at you, feeling nervous and excited and scared all at the same time. You knew I was nervous - wasn't used to being around so many people - so you smiled at me, held my hand and took me to the centre of the room. We began to dance, just letting our bodies move by themselves and enjoying the freedom. You never took your eyes off me that night, not once. You made sure I was alright, you laughed with me when I fell over a drunk couple making out on the floor, you spiked some jock's beer so strongly that he threw up over his slutty girlfriend when he spilt his previous drink all over my jacket. It was fun. Until I fucked everything up.

It was nearing the end of the party. Only a few stragglers were left and we were heading home. We laughed together as we walked the dark, empty street back to your house. After a while we stopped for a rest under the bright orange glow of a streetlamp.

"Tonight was awesome!" I grinned, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the music and atmosphere of the party.

"It was" you replied, smiling softly. But your face had a serious edge to it, like you were deep in thought.

"Whats wrong, Frankie?" I asked. I was confused by your sudden reluctancy to speak.

You didn't say anything. You just looked at me, your eyes searching mine; looking deep inside of me. I could practically feel the frantic beat of your heart as you brought your hand up to my cheek, and suddenly your face was just inches from mine. Before I could realise what was happening, I felt your lips on mine. Our mouths crushed together as you started to move your lips and I could feel your warm breath graze my cheek.

I froze. I panicked, I couldn't help it. I was so shocked, so, surprised, I didn't know what to do. I pulled away fiercely as I realised what was happening.

But it wasn't what was happening that was the problem, what scared me the most was that I liked it; I wanted it to happen. I didn't want you to stop.

You looked at me, eyes wide, and it was the first time I'd ever seen tears threaten to fall down your pale cheeks. You looked like your heart was breaking, and I couldn't take it. So I ran. I clapped my hand over my mouth in shock, tears already springing to my eyes and pushed past you. I didn't stop running until I got home. I threw open the door, deaf to my parents shouts and complaints at the time of night and ran to my bedroom, slamming the door she behind me.

I didn't leave my room for days after that. I didn't eat, didn't sleep, just lay on my bed, thinking about you. Sliding the cold, metal blade over my skin and watching the blood slip out - only a little - and drip down my arm like a river of humiliation and regret.

I would have stayed there, wallowing in my own pathetic self-hatred, for a long time, if you hadn't have found me.

There was a soft knock on the door one afternoon as I was sat on my windowsill, watching the grey trails of rain race down my window.


It was you. I knew it was you as soon as I heard the small, scared sounding voice. I thought of you, standing cold and broken in the street that night. I thought of the way your hair had been a mess, sticking if in tufts and falling over your golden eyes. I thought of your laugh, your smile, the bright sparkle in your eyes that showed how alive you were. I remembered you, and you were perfect.

And in that moment, as soon as I realised how stupid I had been, and how I should have realised this a long time ago, everything changed. Suddenly I knew exactly what I had to do, I knew exactly what I wanted- what was supposed to happen. For once in my life, I was going to do something right.

You gently opened the door and stepped inside, slowly and nervously making your way towards me. I could feel your presence behind me, and I noticed your confusion when I smiled to myself and you saw the reflection in the window.

"Gerard, I'm so sorry about the other night, I- wait, why are you-"

I cut you off as I got up, turned to face you and did what I knew I should have done a long time before. I took your perfect face in my hands - my scars and cuts were on full display but I didn't care - and I kissed you, meshing my lips into yours. It was magical, as if suddenly, time had stopped. All that mattered, all that existed on earth at that moment in time was us. You and me.

You relaxed Into my kiss and began to move and widen your mouth as your realised that this was my answer. It wasn't awkward or embarrassing, it wasn't confusing, it was right. We clung to each other's bodies, desperate, as if we were never going to let go. Our lips fitted together perfectly, moving in graceful harmony. Eventually we broke apart, dizzy and flushed from the kiss.

And we smiled at each other. Grinning and looking deep into one another's eyes.

"I love you, Frank" I said softly, searching your eyes for a reaction; a hint of what you felt towards me. For a second I panicked, thought I'd taken it too far, gone too quickly. I thought you weren't going to say anything. But then you smiled back at me, your eyes bright and more alive than ever.

"I love you too Gee, more than anything"

"Promise me you'll never leave me" I whispered, wrapping my arms around your neck.

"Never," you replied softly in my ear, burying your face in my hair, "I'll always be with you..."

Most people at school found out about us, and thankfully, they mostly just ignored us. There were a few, as there always is, who took it upon themselves to make our lives hell. But you never let them get to you. You always told me, "Never let them win, Gerard. Promise me you'll never let them win."

I tried not to, I really did. And it got better for a while- the sly smirks, taunts and hushed whispers behind my back lessened and people started to move on. Ignore us. The important thing was, that for the first time in my entire life, I felt happy. I had you, that was all that mattered and life was good. The voices got less and less each day; I felt like I was healing.

But then the world came crashing down around me.

The day you told me was the day a part of me started to die. I told you I wouldn't make it on my own. I needed you. But your dad had got a new job; the opportunity of a lifetime, managing a large company in Sydney. The other side of the fucking world.

You hated it so much, you held back the tears as you explained to me that to had to go. That you were getting on a plane, and travelling twenty-four hours, thousands of Miles away.

"You can come and visit anytime Gerard," you said. "I'll only be a plane trip away" you said, trying to smile as you wiped a tear gently from my eye. Then you grabbed me in a suffocating hug, you cried into my ear and whispered that you'd miss me so much, but that we'd see each other soon enough.

But we both knew a plane ticket to Australia was hundreds of dollars. Neither of us would ever be able to afford it.

I came to your house to say goodbye properly, the day you were leaving. I burst into tears as soon as I entered your bedroom and saw all the boxes, the bare walls; just a reminder that made it all seem real. We held each other for what seemed like hours, the tears falling silently and endlessly.

The feeling of emptiness as your parents car disappeared into the distance, you waving back at me, overwhelmed me. I felt so numb, so detached, as if, suddenly, nothing mattered; nothing was real anymore.

I didn't cry after you were gone, I was too numb; like all the emotion inside of me had left when you had. I stopped going out of the house, only occasionally making it to school, despite numerous letters home threatening permanent suspension If I didn't start attending. My parents did everything, they shouted, screamed. They tried bribing me. New clothes, new cd's, even a brand new iPod. But none of it mattered. There was only one thing I wanted, needed, and he was a million miles away, and never coming back. They tried talking, hell they even tried getting me a therapist. But I just refused to talk. The voices in my head were so bad by then anyway, I could barely hear the outside world anymore. I was trapped inside my own personal hell, and eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. I wanted out...

My parents went out for a weekend away yesterday. They do this quite often nowadays; I know it's just because they want to get away from me. They gave up on me long ago. I know that now.

The house was silent and lonely as I walked around it one last time, taking in the last dregs of familiarity from the place that held so many memories.

But now I sit here, in the room that's seen so much: the first time you saw my room; the walls covered in posters and drawings. The time we stayed up until six am just talking, about anything and everything. The first time we kissed, properly. The moment you told me you loved me. The moment you told me you were leaving me..

I've managed to break through the voices and remember you for one last time. Remember us. But I can't do it anymore, I know I've only got one way out. But that's okay, because I found you, I loved you. So, so much. I'll never leave you, Frankie. I'll always be there, with you, I promise.

Just promise me you'll live your life, Frank. I know you're going to do great things one day, you will be great. Do it for me; live your life as I never got the chance to. Never let them win, Frankie, don't ever let them win...


Frank doesn't realise how much he is crying until the words on the page before him begin to run and merge together. He's just got in from a twelve hour flight - Sydney to New Jersey - and he hasn't slept in days, just waiting for the right moment to take a chance and come and see his baby.

He was in Australia for just a few weeks before it all started to go wrong. First, his dad's new company went bust, just weeks after them moving there; that was when his dad started drinking. With no money coming in, and his dad spending all they had on alcohol, their lifestyle quickly went downhill. And Frank missed his Gee so much. He fell asleep crying most nights, purely from the pain of having to leave him. His family was, slowly but surely, being torn apart, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. So he left one night; took the last fifty dollars from his dads wallet, the one spare plane ticket they had, and headed for the airport.

He had been ecstatic at the thought of seeing Gerard again- of surprising him like this, it was all that kept him going...

He was confused when he saw the police cars and ambulances parked outside Gerard's house. Why would the cops be there? He didn't understand when he saw Mrs Way sobbing into her husband's shoulder outside the front door. He didn't understand when they wheeled the body, covered in a white sheet, out of the living room and into the ambulance. He didn't even get it when he was handed a crisp white envelope with 'Frankie' written elegantly in Gerard's own fancy, calligraphic handwriting.

A rough hand on his shoulder makes him jump and he turns around to see Mr Way - Gerards dad - standing, puffy eyed and red faced from crying in front of him.

"He's gone, Frank. He's gone." he says simply, before pulling Frank into a bone-crushing hug and then walking back to comfort his wife, leaving Frank standing in the cold, tears streaming down his face, the crumpled piece of paper he has just read still clutched in his shaking hands.

He looks once again at the last line but notices something he didn't see before; the now damp, tear stained paper has turned slightly transparent and Frank can see more words on the other side. He turns it over slowly in his shaky hands, not sure whether he wants to see what it says. The words are written fluently and easily, as if no thought was needed to create them...

Late dawns and early sunsets,
Just like my favourite scenes,
Then holding hands and life was perfect,
Just like up on the screen,
And the whole time while always giving,
Counting your face among the living,

Up and down escalators, pennies and colder fountains,
Elevators and half price sales, trapped in by all these mountains,
Running away and hiding with you,
I never thought they'd get me here,
Not knowing you'd change from just one bite,
I fought them all off just to hold you close and tight,

But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I had the guts, to put this to your head...
But would anything matter if you're already dead?
And well should I be shocked now, at the last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained...

But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I had the guts, to put this to your head...
And would anything matter if you're already dead?
And well should I be shocked now, by last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained...
And In saying you loved me,
Made things harder at best,
And these words changing nothing,
As your body remains,
And there's no room in this hell,
There's no room in the next,
And our memories defeat us,
And I'll end this direst.

But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I had the guts, to put this to your head...
But does anything matter if you're already dead?
And should I be shocked now, by the last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained...
And In saying you loved me,
Made things harder at best,
And these words changing nothing,
As your body remains,
And there's no room in this hell,
There's no room in the next,
But does anyone notice, there's a corpse in this bed?

Frank lets out the air from his lungs when he realises he has been holding his breath. It's a song; the most beautifully tragic, darkly romantic lyrics he's ever read, and it's signed at the bottom in the same black ink and Gerard's flowing handwriting.

I thought of you and wrote this, Frankie- you've helped me through so much, you've held my hand. So this is for you. I love you, so whatever you choose to do with it; keep it a secret or make something out of it, it's our song, Frankie. Through it, we'll always have each other.

Frank folds the note up carefully and puts in back in the envelope before tucking it safely into his pocket. Warm, salty tears still slide down his cheeks and he knows he won't be able to stop; his heart is shattered, broken, bleeding. He doesn't know why things had to happen this way- why did Gerard have to go through so much pain? Why couldn't Frank help him through it? He helped him find love, taught him how to live again, so why couldn't he save him from this; save him from himself?

But he does know one thing. He is going to keep his promise, he's not going to let the demons overcome him as they did with Gerard. He is still alive, and he will never stop fighting. He has to keep going, for his baby.

The sun is beginning to set over the city - although it seems far too early for it to be dusk yet - as Frank sits, once again, in the park where he hand Gerard shared so many memories. It casts dark shadows over the buildings, the deep orange glow contrasting with the black. He closes his eyes, letting the last rays of sunlight absorb into his skin. Gee will never do this again, he thinks; never sit in this park, never laugh, never love.

He re-reads the song in his head, absorbing the meaning behind it. His heart chokes and he almost can't breath as he thinks about Gerard, about the early sunset he is seeing, and the one in Gee's song.

Early sunsets over Monroeville...
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