Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance

Broken Promises

by whyyhellothere 7 reviews

(Frerard one-shot) When Frank and Gerard meet in a twist of fate on a rooftop, neither of them had thought it would end like this. *TRIGGER WARNING*

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2013-08-22 - Updated: 2013-12-02 - 5428 words

Hello! Um This story looks a little weird in this format, but I hope that you can bear through. Although I wish I did, I do not own any the people in this story. I will be updating every once in a while to fix grammar and spelling mistakes, but until then please read and review. Arden, if you're reading this, ily.

The breeze is a harsh one; one that would have been painfully unbearable to anyone else. But I savor it, finding relief in its sharp, bittersweet feel.
I walk along the edge of the rooftop in nothing but a plain black tee-shirt and skinny jeans. When a gust of wind strikes me across the face, a smile appears on my lips. The pain is a bearable kind, almost like the kind that come from the scars that line my wrist.
I gaze down at the streets below. People scurry everywhere, going about their daily lives, completely oblivious to the person standing high above them.
It would be so easy...
I glance at my feet; my feet seem to inch towards the ledge. All it takes is one little step. It's seems so simple I feel like It'd almost be cheating. One step and all the pain of this world would be gone.
But no, that's not what I came for. I'm not ready to end my life, not just yet.
I tear my eyes away from the dangerous height and slink into the corner of the roof. It's so quiet and peaceful; that's why I love it so much. This is my hideaway where I come when I desperately need to think or escape for a while.
My back is pressed against the cold hard bricks that somewhat block the wind. I close my eyes and lean back into them. A flicker of a smile crosses my lips. This is my paradise.
I stay in this position for a long time the cold slowly sucks the feeling out of my skin until I'm completely numb. I don't mind.
I'm fading in and out of consciousness when a shuffling noise catches my attention. My eyes snap open and I immediately tense to jump up.
There's a figure clad in all black off to my right. He doesn't seem to notice me tucked away in my little corner. The person is standing near the edge not far where I considered jumping. A hood protects the person's face from both the cold and my eyes.
I remain motionless, praying that the figure will leave. It's small, yet it still kind of scares me.
But then, he places one foot hesitantly on the ledge.
The sudden realization of what he's doing hits me. I can't sit here and watch someone take their own life. "Don't do it!" I yell in a voice I didn't think I had.
Started, he whips his head around to face me. My eyes lock with his hazel ones that are somehow bright yet emotionless. His eyes widen in fear. His jaw drops slightly but no words come out.
I stand up; ignoring the pain in my protesting legs, and take a step toward him. He watches me carefully and I notice that, though quite short, he's not much younger than I am. Either way, he's just a kid.
"Please step down," I say, unable to hide the urgency in my voice.
"Why should I?" He snaps. He tries to look angry, but once I see how broken and innocent he looks, I can't be intimidated.
"Because you'd be making a mistake," I say softly, risking another step toward him. He's still halfway across the rooftop, yet I can see the panic growing in his eyes from all the way over here.
"No, I'd be doing the world a favor." The boy turns away from me and glares down the street. Then in a sudden movement, he steps up with his other foot.
"No!" I shout. I can see the determination in his stance; he's about to jump. Without thinking, I sprint over to where he is and throw my arms around him. I pull backwards with all my strength just as he loses balance.
My heartbeat feels as though it's slowing down even though I know it's speeding up. Everything seems sluggish like we're stuck in slow motion.
The boy crashes into my chest, caught off guard. The two of us tumble backwards and collide in the hard rooftop. I land on my back and the air rushes from my lungs. I gasp for breath, finding it almost impossible. I dully realize the boy is still wrapped in my arms.
He rolls away from me. I don't stop him.
When I can finally breathe again, I turn over to find him glaring at me.
"Why did you do that?" He growls; his eyes blazing fiercely.
"I already told you. It would have been a mistake."
"No it wouldn't have." He then scoots over a bit, obviously uncomfortable by how close we are. We lay across from each other, neither of us daring to break eye contact or to speak.
Finally, when I can't take the silence any longer, I ask, "and why do you say that?"
He looks slightly taken aback. It takes him a moment to get any words out. His wall of anger breaks and he sounds so little and broken. "I'm worthless here"
My heart snaps in two. "I doubt that" I whisper. I've said those words so many times, but something about him saying it hurts deep inside.
I look over at him, long and hard. Short dark hair crowns his head. His face is chiseled and his skin is pale.
And then my eyes fall on his wrist. I suck in a deep breath at the sight of the familiar, puckered skin. The boy quickly tries to cover it with his sleeve, but it's too late. I've already recognized the cuts. I gently reach out and pull back his sleeve, I can feel his eyes staring intently, yet he doesn't stop me. I run my finger over the marks and a whimper leaves his lips.
"It's okay." I say holding out my own arm. Tears fill his eyes; he fights so hard against them. "It's okay." I repeat.
He stops fighting the tears. They spill down his cheeks as a rough sob shakes his body. I sit him up and pull him into my lap its not long before you realize that I'm crying, too.
The boy curls up and buries his face in my chest. Heart wrenching sobs claw their way up his throat. I rest the side of my face on the top of his head. Neither of us care that we're crying in the arms of a stranger.
When the boy quiets down, he looks up at me and sniffles. I smile at him the best I can.
"Sorry," he says blushing and wiping away at his eyes.
"No need to be sorry. I'm Gerard by the way," I respond.
He pulls me away just enough to look me squarely in the face. "Frank."
Then Frank smiles for the first time. The pain is still apparent in his eyes, but now a glint of happiness can be seen there, too. An adorable dimple appears on the side of his lip, and I can't help but feel my grin widen.
I guess we both needed to let that out.
I'm about to ask what brought him to this rooftop when I see a shiver spread across his body.
"You cold?" I ask. He nods violently.
"Let's go inside then," I suggest. Frank quickly hops to his feet and reaches down to help me up. I can't help but notice how his hand completely engulfs mine.
We walk side by side back into the building, where we collapse in what appears to be a forgotten hallway. Frank leans against the wall across from me, his eyes never leaving my face. I began to feel very self-conscious and I absentmindedly pick at the hem of my tee-shirt.
"What were you doing on the rooftop?" Frank ask after a long silence.
"Thinking," I reply without looking up.
"About what?"
I take a deep breath. "The consequences."
Frank says nothing, but realization crosses his features. He nods slowly, "I understand."
I stare at my shoes, he stares at his. Another silence hangs over us. This time I'm the one to break it.
"What led you to wanting to kill yourself?"
Frank cringes. "Everything" I wait for him to go on. "My dad left, but I saw that coming. My mom hates me too; she said I was better off dead."
Frank goes down on his horrifying list of factors. I listen intently, and when he ends up crying, I coax him into another hug.
I can't believe everything that happened to him, and he's only 18. He's young, yet he's experienced more pain than some people do in their entire lifetime.
Our conversation expands to life in general. I learn about his love of dogs and his favorite foods. I In turn, share about my brother Mikey, my drawings, and my obsession with coffee.
"Really?" he says after I tell him about my strong passion for music. "I play guitar, you know. Hey, maybe we could start a band one day!"
"Yeah," I say with a smirk "I would like that"
We spent the next few hours talking about the most stupid, irrelevant things for hours, never growing tired of each others laugh. I almost forgot what laughter felt like. A small bubble of happiness grows inside me.
I always thought that if I were to put everything out there- my whole life- I would feel empty, but it's the opposite. There's a warmth growing in my chest and just being able to talk to someone makes breathing less of a burden.
It soon fades to dark and our conversation slows down. I can see in Frank's eyes that he doesn't want to be the one to say goodbye.
"Well, I should get going" I sigh.
Disappointment fills his face. The corners of his lips turn down slightly. "Okay, I guess you're right."
I look down at my hands. I don't really want to go. Then I pull out my small notepad and pen I always carry with me in case I got a sudden idea for something. I flip to a blank page and hand it to him. "Put your number in." I instruct.
Frank does as he is told without hesitation. When he hands it back to me, I make a mental note to send him a quick 'hi' so he can save my number when I get back.
"Frank, if you ever feel like committing again, please call me," I say quietly.
He stares at me for a long moment as though deciding how much he trusts me. Finally he nods and I let out the breath I was holding. "Okay, Gee."
He grins at me and relief floods through my body. I might be able to keep this boy alive.
We walk out of the building, side by side, beaming with the knowledge that we both have a friend.
That's the last I see of Frank Iero for a while. We text a little after that, but there isn't much to be said. I assume that all he needed was to rant and let it all out and that he must be fine now. I'm doing much better, knowing someone out there cares about me.
But just because I've been feeling better, doesn't mean Frank has been. I should have known that.
I'm in the middle of brushing my teeth when the phone rings. Seeing Frank's name flash across the screen, I quickly spit and answer. "Hello?"
"Gerard," His voice is so faint; my heart drops to the pit of my stomach.
"Frank, what's wrong?" I ask urgently.
He takes too long to respond "Gerard, I- I messed up."
I barely notice the shaking in my hands. My heart in pushing its way farther into my stomach, yet all I can concentrate is his voice.
"I'm on your way right now. What's your address?" I ask rushing straight to my car, not even bothering to grab shoes.
Frank weakly recites his address and I stomp on the gas pedal. "I'll be there in a minute; just stay on the phone, okay?" I'm desperate and taking corners way too fast. Not to mention my car is an old piece of crap. A few cars honk at me but it doesn't register. I needed to get to Frank now. I can feel panic and hysteria rise inside of me.
"Frank, are you still with me?" I call out when the other line becomes too quiet.
"Yeah, the door's unlocked, and Gee?"
I grip the steering wheel tighter. "Yes?" I choke out.
"Please hurry," he whispers.
I press down harder on the old petal. Street signs blur past the windows but I don't know where I'm going. If only I can get there faster.
After far too long of a time, I slam my brakes in front of the small, dingy house that Frank lives in. My legs move without me instructing them to, they went as fast as they possibly could go.
"Frank?" I call, slightly out of breath.
I'm greeted with silence. My body is shaking and my knees are quivering so hard they almost give out.
"Frank! Please, where are you?" I shout.
My fear is drowning me. My head is spinning and I can barely breathe. I slip down a random hall, yelling his name over and over.
"Frank! Frank! Please, tell me where you are!"
Then I hear it. A soft whimpering comes from somewhere to the left. I dart around a corner where I find a closed door waiting for me. A sliver of light beneath it tells me this is exactly where I want to be.
A small shriek escapes my lips the moment I open the door.
Frank is on the bathroom floor, the skin on both his arms shredded. Fragments of what used to be a mirror littler the room and blood paints the floor like a giant canvas. His face is such a deathly shade of white that tears spring in my eyes.
"Oh God no," I whisper. I bring a shaking hand to my lips to cover my gasp.
At the sound of my voice, Frank's eyes flutter open, lock on me and close again. They're dull and lifeless.
I recover from my initial shock and carefully make my way toward him. I dance around the pieces of glass, deeply regretting the decision to not wear shoes.
When I reach him, I'm not really sure what to do. I gaze down at his broken body. How did I not see this coming?
I swallow the lump in my throat and sit down beside him. I take his head in my lap and stroke his hair absentmindedly while dialing an ambulance.
Frank gazes up at me while I frantically explain the situation to the operator. I'm not at all assured when the lady on the other line says "We'll be there soon."
I hang up and toss my phone across the room in frustration. We don't need them 'soon'; we need them now.
"The ambulance will be here any minute," I tell Frank anyways.
His eyes widen in terror. "You'll be okay," I say comfortingly.
He nods and allows his eyes to drift back to a close. He can't keep them open anymore. I feel my panic increase.
"Frank?" I whisper. "Why?"
"I'm so sorry" he whispers more softly than I had. "I wanted to be strong like you. I threw my razors out a week ago- but- I couldn't do it, I'm sorry Gerard"
I put my head down over Frank and I break down. I'm blinded by the tears quickly multiplying in my eyes and running hastily down my face. I want to tell him that I'm the one who's sorry, but no words can escape. Instead, I pull his head into my chest and hold him tight.
I can feel his warmth slowly fading. I'm sobbing now. "Frank please don't go. I need you. You're the only one I have left. Don't do this, Frank please."
But I get no response. Sheer terror floods my veins and I feel like I'm on fire. The only thing that is running through my head is that Frank isn't going to make it.
Help comes quickly after that, but not soon enough. Frank feels like death in my arms. They tell me it's serious, but that he should make it.
They struggle to get me to calm down, telling me that he'll be fine. But I stop listening to the things they tell me. They all sound like lies.
But soon they tell me I can see Frank.
I walk into his hospital room in a trance. Frank lies in the middle of the bed. His eyes are closed; and his chest rises and falls lightly. If I didn't still have the horrible image of him covered in blood, I could almost pretend he was sleeping; but I know very well that that isn't the case.
I pull up a chair and sit next to the bed, refusing to leave his side for anything except occasional bathroom breaks. Nobody else shows up to visit, his parents included.
As soon as Frank stirs a little bit, my heart skips a beat. I grab a hold of his hand and wait for his eyes to fully open.
"Gerard?" He asks, voice rough as he struggles to focus on me.
"The one and only," I say with a meek smile.
The corners of his lips turn up slightly at that. There's a small fluttering in my chest that I decide to ignore.
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
Frank frowns and looks down at me. "Bad."
I reach out, without thinking, and trace the new cuts that line his otherwise perfect skin. He doesn't so much as flinch away from my touch. Instead, he watches my hand intently.
"Please don't ever scare me like ever again. You- you're the only one I have left," I say, choking up at the end.
"I- I'm sorry. I'll try not to."
"No Frank, don't try, you need to fight. You'll get through this; and I'll help you. Just promise me- that you'll never leave me alone." I take a deep breath, my courage rapidly deserting me after my little speech.
"Okay, Gee. I promise."
Frank slips his hand in mine and squeezes it once, reassuring me. The stupid fluttering comes back into my chest again.
"Thank you."
And then, like nothing had happened, Frank ask, "So how was your day?"
I chuckle. "Pretty terrible."
He looks genuinely guilty for a minute, and I quickly take it back. "But now that you're awake, I couldn't be better."
We exchange smiles yet again and dive into a random conversation about the latest football match, not even like I care about sports anyway. It's so ordinary I almost forget that we're in a hospital because Frank came so close to killing himself.
Our topics slowly drift to a billion other subjects; I don't mind. I could listen to Frank all day. There's just something about his voice.
I catch myself staring at his face many times throughout, too. I don't even realize I'm doing it either, but I'm not really bothered by it. He was attractive and there was no denying that. But his lips look so soft, my eyes slip to them subconsciously.
What am I doing? I shouldn't be gazing at another guy's lips; that's weird.I nervously begin fiddling with my thumbs, hoping he didn't notice. I try to focus on our conversation after that.
All too soon, a nurse cuts us off. She tells me that visiting hours are over and I have to leave. I feel heartbroken and I can see the Frank feels the same way. I wanted to stay and talk all night.
First thing the next morning, I go straight back to the hospital. He's not even awake yet but I could care less. Then when he does wake up, we repeat the day before.
This goes on for about a week until they deem Frank healthy enough to leave the hospital. The doctors are extremely concerned about him being at his house alone, so I agree to stay with him for a while; I don't really have much of a place to stay anyway. He doesn't seem to mind too much; we've both learned to take comfort in each other's company.


"Gerard! What do you think about this shirt?" Frank's voice carries down the hall after about 2 months of me staying with him.
"Bring it here, I can't see it!" I yell from my comfortable position on the couch.
"Lazy sack of potatoes," he grumbles, coming into the room wearing a sleek, black button-up shirt. I can't help but stare; it perfectly sculpted him muscles and brought out the light streaks in his hair.
Oh god I'm starting again. I quickly avert my eyes to the commercial playing on the T.V.
"Well?" Frank asks impatiently.
I forgot to answer; dang it. How do I say this without sounding creepy?
"It looks- nice," is somehow what comes out of my mouth. I mentally slap myself; he looks so much better than just 'nice'.
Frank looks somewhat disappointed with my answer. "Thanks."
I watch him turn back down the hall. My heart aches as he goes. I want to tell him how beautiful he looks in it, but for obvious reasons I can't.
In all honesty, I can't keep my eyes of Frank lately. His face, his hair, his body, it's all so perfect. His smile literally takes my breath away. He is the definition of beauty.
I'm not sure when I started looking at Frank this way.
I'm even more un-certain of when I started to fall for him.
My mind is muddled with a mess of confusion when I'm with him and it's extremely aggravating. I want to tell him how I feel, but fear holds me back. I know he doesn't feel the same. He'd be so appalled by me if he knew.
He'd hate me, just like how I hate myself for this. I can't lose the one person who cares about me; so I bottle up every single one of these feelings until I'm about to burst.
On and on it goes, for weeks, until I'm toying with insanity, I'm about to reach my breaking point.
I glance over at Frank, who senses my wandering and turns to face me. I can't seem to look away from his strong gaze.
"Gee, you're missing the show," he chuckles.
Blood rushes into my face. "Oops," I breathe. His smile makes my stomach sink.
Then suddenly the space between us seemed so small. It'd be such an easy distance to close.
My heartbeat speeds up at this realization and neither of us breaks eye contact.
This is my chance. I'm going to hate myself for this, but this the only change I may ever get.
"I'm sorry Frank," I whisper.
Before he can even respond or question me, I lean over. I'm acting on pure adrenaline now.
Franks stiffens beneath me, caught completely by surprise. Our lips brush against each other and I feel a spark, I pray to God that he feels it, too.
I hesitantly press my lips into his. He remains motionless, yet I carry on. I kiss Frank with all the emotions I've been holding in for so long. His lips begin to move with mine and I swear I'm about to burst with happiness. All I ever wanted to know is what his kiss felt like, and now I do.
My bubble of ecstasy is popped as soon as Frank pulls away.
His eyes widen with fear and confusion. He quickly puts space between us.
I shouldn't have done that. I just messed up big time.
I'm breathless, dizzy, and though Frank's waiting for an explanation, no words come. All I can think about is what a big mistake that was.
"I.. um..Gerard?" Frank asks frantically. "I had no clue- that you- I- when-" His stuttering takes over and he gives up trying to speak.
"Frank I'm sorry, I should have done that, Please don't hate me" I beg.
I pull my knees up to my chest and curl into a sort of ball under his hard stare.
"I didn't know you were-"
"I didn't know either," I say cutting him off.
"But you like me?"
Fear is ripping my insides right out. What have I done?
Frank shakes his head slowly. "Gee, I have to think about this," he says. Without another look at me, he slips away into his room.
I just ruined everything.
I don't see Frank for the rest of the day. I sit there on the couch for hours, shocked at what I had done. I still can't believe it; for once it my life I actually managed to do something right and I blow it up in the most pathetic way possible. It doesn't even matter that I have a small crush on him anymore, things just wouldn't be the same between us. Hollowness fills my core and I crave something to try and fill it. I crawl under my bed and my hands press up against a small bottle of Xanax and I reach over and grab it. I had managed to become clean for a little while for Frank, but I guess now I don't have anything to lose.
I pop each tablet into my mouth, one by one. I don't remember the last time I took it, but I knew this was the most I had taken at one time. I take a swig of the vodka I had kept with me since I first moved in, just in case I ever needed it, letting the burning liquid slip down my throat. I don't care that the combination can kill you; I've done it hundreds of times before. Besides, I needed something to help me forget that my heart has just been ripped out of my chest. But of course, It only makes everything worse.
Things get even more horrible when I find the letter sitting on the counter.
It's neatly folded and I instantly recognize the handwriting on it. My breathing hitches in my throat. With shaking hands I open it and begin to read.

Dear Gerard,
You are an amazing friend to me. I wouldn't be alive today if it weren't for you, and that's a fact. You saved me, and I really love you; you're like a brother to me.
But that's all you are to me. I don't really know how to put this, but I don't think I could ever think of you in that way. Words can't explain how sorry I am. I thought long and hard about this, and trust me; it wasn't an easy decision.
You got me back on my feet in my time of need; I will always be grateful for that. You fixed me. This is most likely the hardest thing I've ever done. Please don't be angry at me for this.
I've gone to stay with an old friend that I recently reconnected with for the rest of the week. I thought that would be best so you can have time to figure out where you want to go from here. I truly hope we can remain friends after this, but If you don't want to I understand.

My blood goes cold. I re-read the letter over and over, the words not sinking in. I can't believe it.
I jump to my feet and the letter falls to the ground, I race to Frank's room. Sure enough, half his closet and a suitcase are gone. My knees give out and I collapse to the ground in a sobbing heap.
The only person who ever cared about me is gone. We both know that we can't be friends anymore; no matter what he had said. He was only trying to make me feel better. Motivation deserts me, leaving me on the floor for hours. I don't get up when my nose starts heavily bleeding; a side effect from the drugs. I sit there; watching the thick liquid slips into my mouth and on the floor.
He didn't even say it to my face; he just left me with a damn note.
Frank hates me.
Now it's official. Nobody wants me here.
No one cares. No one loves me. I'm worthless and unwanted and a freak and a faggot, I was an idiot for thinking that Frank could love me back.
I slowly push myself up and force myself to stand. My legs wobble beneath me. The blood has slowed down and I wipe as much as I can away.
Numbness creeps into my brain, blocking each emotion one at a time. I give in to it. There's nothing left for me anyways. Fixing Frank was my way of fixing myself, but he doesn't need me anymore.
I make my way over to the counter and tear a piece of paper from the notebook I always carried with me. I toss the rest of the notebook away; none of it mattered anymore. It's a shame, all the time I put into it, and now it's just going to waste. I pick up my pen and begin to write a note to Frank; but something tells me he'll never see it.

Dear Frank,
Thank you for being there for me. You gave me the best couple months of my life. You gave me a reason to stick around.
Now don't feel guilty, you had no clue about how I was going to react. You had no clue how broken I was from the start because I didn't show you. I wanted to focus on you getting better, and now that you're better, you don't need me.
I'm sorry for being such a hypocrite and I hope you will forgive me. But I feel like that's okay though, considering you broke your promise. You promised you would never leave me, and that's what you did, you left. So I guess it won't matter if I left, too.
There's a little bit of blood on the paper, but I'm sure that you'll understand. I'm certain you'll never see this anyway, because you don't care much anymore. As much as I wish you did, I know you don't, and I realize this now.
So now I guess it's time for me to go. I know that you won't be thinking about me too much, but know that I will really miss you.

My hands are shaking terribly by the end of the note. I fold it up as nice as possible and place it exactly where I found Frank's.
I take one last look around the small house. I'm going to miss this too. It had become my home.
I sigh and turn to go.
I know exactly where I'm going. My feet carry me to a tall, abandoned building a few blocks away. They take one step at a time until they reach the all too familiar rooftop. My heart speeds up when I spot the ledge where I first saw Frank. I give a small smile in remembrance of that meeting.
And now I step up onto the very same ledge. I almost expect someone to come running from my corner, telling me not to do it.
No one stop's me though. None of this is Frank's fault, I know that. This was going to happen sooner or later, and at least I could help someone before. It's almost like I took his place, and that makes me glad. Frank deserves to live; I don't.
I stare down at the cars passing by and people going on their way. None of them will care that I'm gone.
I briefly wonder if it'll hurt, but I push that thought away. If I can't be strong any other way, I have to be in my last minute.
I gaze up at the clouded sky, hoping for one last ray on sunlight that never comes.
Finally, I take a deep breath and let everything go.
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