FicWad

Right. So I've ignored Ficwad for a while. I apologize for that, but things have really been insane. Still are, but I'm working on an update for my other story and then I'll get back to this one again..



I felt oddly nervous calling Mrs. Iero's house. I dialed in the number I still knew by heart although it was such a long time ago I'd last needed to call her. I had gone straight to Grace's after school, from whom I'd learned that Frank had dragged his belongings to his mother's house yesterday morning after our little chat in the kitchen.
This information made my stomach flip over and over, like those big wing-like pieces of plastic inside slushie machines that kept the mush moving. Was he really that mad at me?
I waited for someone to pick up, cursing Frank for not having his cell phone on.

"Hullo?" A husky, distantly familiar voice called.

"Mrs.Iero? Hi, it's Em calling.." I let out a shaky breath. I wasn't sure what the woman thought of me and whenever that was the case, the odds were usually against me. She used to love me ten years ago, when I came out every day to entertain Frank who suffered from various infections as a kid. Sinuses, ears - it was always something keeping him locked up in the house.

I suppose it isn't such a shocker that the guy turned all ADD on everyone's ass, I myself was always ready to flip after spending only two days in my room with chicken soup and nothing but TV-SHOP or re-runs of various sit coms as company.

Despite her liking the kiddie version of me, it wasn't hard to imagine how she would have it in her to blame me for all the misbehavior Frank and I had pulled later on - my mother used to blame it all on Frank, after all - or the way she was forced to kick him out of the house when things started to really spiral down. I was always there, and calling me the cause of Frank's less than presentable way of living was surely almost too easy.

"Em? Well, if it hasn't been a while!" She exclaimed, her tone light but edgy and laced with a thick accent. I wasn't sure whether she was skipping with joy over hearing my voice or whether these was some secret message of sarcasm tightly wrapped around her words.

"Yeah, it h-"

"Said the same thing when my son showed up at the door yesterday. I've been waiting, expecting.. When I said he couldn't live here no more I never meant for him to not visit his ol' Ma, y'know?"

"I know, look - is Frank there at the moment?" Cutting in between her whiney rant was a task without coming off rude.

"He's in his room, d'ya want me to go get him?"

"Or I could just drop by if that's okay with you?" I asked a bit unsurely.

"Sure, sure-"

"Just let him know I'm on my way, thanks - bye!" I hung up and breathed out heavily before dialing in another number.

The apathetic, nasal voice greeted me after the third beep.

"Gerard, you still in the city?" I blurted out hastily without bothering to say hello.

"Just finishing at the library."

"Pick me up from the apartment on your way to Belleville? I'm on my way to the Iero house, you can pick me up there on your way to work later, like we agreed?"

"I'll be there in ten." He disconnected and I made a brief happy dance for not having to waste my money on a train ride.




The ride to Belleville was quiet. I could see a pattern forming here, Gerard and I driving to Belleville and back in more or less awkward silence. I noticed the vein on his temple throb unhealthily and almost proceeded to ask him about that carrot shoved up his ass but stopped myself. I was enjoying the benefits of a free car ride and I wasn't about to risk getting dumped on the side of the road while we were still in the grounds of New York City.

Once we reached Belleville, I decided that the nostalgia had definitely lost its charm after the past few, very frequent, visits. I was bummed that I didn't get to do this with Frank - to return to the old neighbourhoods together to wander around and reminisc. Instead, I'd been making these trips with none other than the older Way, the one that had made my first visit at Donna's intolerable, the next time and the trip to Booth Park confusing but extremely worth-while, and the third, being just yesterday, had been beyond words. I still cringed at the memory of seeing my mother, and at Gerard confessing his feeling for Frank, and... It was a bad day, ok.

I gave him quick instructions on how to drive to the Iero's, and he made a snarky remark on the fact that I'd tricked him into driving me to Kearny, when I'd let him assume I was only hitching a ride to Belleville. I'd objected, claiming that Kearny was only a ten minute drive from the street our mothers lived on, and was sort of surprised to see him actually take the turn I'd asked him to. I'd prepared myself for a halt, and a cocked eyebrow on Gerard's face saying I think this is your stop. I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the ride.


After calling out a sincere thank you to Gerard and watching the van speed away with a concerning rattling sound, I knocked on the massive oak door for the first time in years.
A part of me was greatly relieved when the face of the person who answered the door belonged to Frankie instead of his mother. I felt guilty, and I didn't even know why. She hadn't accused me of anything over the phone, but who knew - if she had grown to be anything like my mother, it could've been a trick to get my ass here so I could pysically shrink under her disapproving stare and then run in circles in the back yard while trying desperately to escape the crazy lady with a stick in her hand. I shook my head, trying to stop myself from confusing his mother with mine. It was rather disturbing.

"What's wrong?" The concern in his eyes was bare and instant, and I could just see the wheels turning inside his head. My popping up at his mother's porch for no apparent reason might've been alarming enough, and adding the frown on my face didn't help much.
I quickly rearranged my expression into an easy smile, and brushed past him into the hall.

"Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"Has something happened?" The cautious tone was still there.

"No, really. Sorry for scaring you. Nothing's happened."

He nodded and led me to the stairs.

"Mom went outside, apparently she's really gotten into gardening or some shit. Which is great because I wanted to give you a heads up - this is just an innocent visit and if she asks anything about my apartment in the city, you just say it's very nice and spacious and that there's no mold in the refridgerator. Got that?"

I smirked as we slumped up the stairs.
"Anything else you want me to lie to her about? I could make up a story about a steady girlfriend, or a well-paid job?"

I don't know how one's able to kick as swiftly as Frank while being located several feet from their victim, but the pain on my leg was fierce and very real.

"Ow, Frank!" I whined. "Whatever happened to hospitality?" I was sick of getting abused and mistreated everytime I visited someone's house.

"You killed it with your tackiness. It suffered horribly. Had to be put out." He muttered but even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell there was a smile lingering somewhere along the lines.

He threw the door open that led to his room and a wave of horror washed over me as my eyes took in the numb, unpolluted whiteness of the space. A smell of fresh paint stung my nostrils as I peeked in further to confirm what I thought I was seeing.
I gave Frank a doubtful look, and saw well-disguised sorrow in his eyes. He shrugged in indifference.

"I know. It's quite morbid. I guess she meant what she said all that time ago about never wanting me to step a foot in her house again. Packing my things up would've been a reasonable thing to do, though. I hate to think of all those collectable Hall of Fame cards and the rare 7 inch vinyls lying around on a dump." He sat down on the equally white bed and I followed, making the mattress squeak in protest. I frowned.

"Oh Frankie, I'm so sorry! This is terrifying!"

I remembered Frank's room being the coolest thing I ever saw. Even as a kid, before I had any idea of the music that later stole my soul, I would stare at the posters on his dark, dull grey walls and feel a wave of awe go through my body. He had always been good at expressing himself, and decorating his own little space had started at a young age.

It went from drawing dinosaurs on the walls with permanent markers to plastering posters of horror movies and bands everywhere, and writing song lyrics on the free spots on the walls before proceeding to cover up the ceiling. I remembered writing my name on there numerous times, adding a handful of threats to anyone who'd dare to erase my mark.
Clearly, my threats hadn't been taken seriously.

The room, as I remembered it, was simply so Frank that I couldn't help but love it.
He used to fasten random things on the walls with pins or superglue, things he had found on the street and thought were meaningful somehow, things that he made himself out of paper sheets on boring all-boys school classes, things that I gave him as desperate excuses for birthday presents I'd forgotten to get.
It had been like a scrapbook on display.
And now it was all gone, replaced by an impersonal layer of pearly white paint. My breath caught in my throat as I digested what Frank had said. All his things had been dragged away to a dumpster?

I wrapped my arms around him in comforting manner as I stared at the single duffel bag on the floor, the one that held some clothes and things that he hadn't been able to leave behind when he had left a couple years ago. The bag that had often been nestled in either Grace's living room floor or mine, back at mother's house and later at the apartment Mikey and I shared.
This was awful.
Clearly neither of us would ever have thought that his mother would get rid of the rest, and I could detect the hint of regret in his hazel eyes, thinking about all the things he would've taken with him if he'd known this was going to happen.

"I feel even more homeless than I did two days ago." He stated, rubbing his thumb on my arm that I had tightly wrapped around his body.

"Why did you come here in the first place? You know you can always crash at mine? Mikey won't mind and Ger-" I stopped right there, and trying to erase the first syllable that already got out of my mouth with a fake cough. "You should come back. Or go to Grace's, if you're not particularly afraid of getting murdered in your sleep."

"I just didn't feel like sticking around."

"Frank..." I squeezed him lightly. "Look, I know what this is about."

I had to come clean. I was going to have to talk to him about the night in Booth Park in any case and the pocket dial that had taken place if I had any intentions on restoring our friendship. And I did. Mentioning Gerard was inevitable, as was the fact that I'd figured out what was going on in Frank's head. Despite the awkwardness of outing him without giving him a chance to come out himself, I was going to grab the bull by its horns and tell him that I knew.

I still hadn't made up my mind about telling him about the other things I knew, the Gerard related lovey dovey things that I'd rather just ignore for the rest of all our lives, but those things were secondary. I still had time to ponder about what to do with that information. Right now I had to get things straight with Frank.
I pulled a crooked smile as I thought of how wrong it sounded, getting things straight with a gay person.. ha!

I looked up and saw caution in his eyes, half expecting me to start ranting about something completely irrelevant and let him off the hook, half unable to hide the hopeful glint of surprise that my words had caused to surface.

"You do?" His tone matched his features perfectly, laced with doubt and a slight incredulous undertone that was designed to keep the backdoor open, so that if it turned out that I in fact did not know what this was about, he could still take a step back without having given himself away.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about.. Look - That night with Gerard, it would have never happened if I had known about your feelings." I started. "I swear to you, Frank, you mean too much to me. And I am so so sorry that you had to overhear it, too. You really should get Gerard to apologize for that, though, cause it was his phone that got somehow squeezed in his tight pants without the keylock on and-"
The look in his eyes made me stop.
No sidetracks.
Back to the point.
I smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry. I want you to know that I would never hurt you like that on purpose. You just.. You really should've told me, okay? You could've spared us all this.. tangling up.. and we could just be happy and carefree and all that peachy shit instead."

"You really think we could be happy?" The friction of hope bursted into a breathtaking intensity in his gaze. So afraid yet so full of faith.

"Ofcourse we could! There's no reason to be so unsure about it. I know now, and not only do I feel okay with it, I fucking embrace it and you should, too."

I felt so needed, so vital, as if I was a tremendously important part of the world, a cogwheel without which it could not turn, as I gazed back into the eyes of my best friend. He knew I hated talking about feelings, or anything remotely deep, but if I had to speak my mind and tell him all about the emotions that made my heart swell up to make the spark return into his eyes, replacing that disillusioned sadness, I would do just that.
He was my best friend, my partner in crime, my one and only confidant in this endless battle against the rest of the world, my- I was getting carried away again.
This wasn't Super Mario and he wasn't Luigi.

He untangled my arms from around his torso, but held on to both of my hands.

"How did- how did you know?"

I wasn't used to Frank stuttering like that as he spoke. My heart went out to him - this must all be very hard for him, and although I could not entirely understand of empathize, I had to remember that this time it wasn't us talking about some random everyday thing that had no real meaning whatsoever. This was a huge moment for him, and I had to show him that I understood that.

"It doesn't matter.. I'm good at figuring things out. Well things apart from my own life, of course." I was fishing for a smile, and got one.

"I wonder... "

"If he feels the same way?" I finished his question. This was the time to decide. I loved Frank, but just thinking about him with Gerard made my chest ache and for reasons unknown, I didn't want that. It felt like a thousand little daggers thrown at the sensitive part of my heart, the part that I'd never let anyone damage, and a sickening feeling of jealousy shot through me. I was jealous. Of Gerard. Because... I encouraged my subconscious to go on with the realizations. Go on. Because...

Because I wanted him.

The depth of that fact was firmly obscured, and seeing as even admitting this made my breathing laboured and my head spin, I wanted to leave it at that.
The lenghts of this want were unknown, whether they were physical or more, but I didn't want to give it another thought.

"Honestly, I have no idea." I shrugged, pretending to be as clueless as ever.

It was so damn hard to act, to lie before my best friend's eyes but I couldn't bring myself to tell him. I don't know if I could ever stop them from finding out, but I could atleast drag it on.. Procrastinate it. Until I was ready to face the facts myself, to accept the fact that these men loved each other and them being together meant me getting stranded with nothing but a shitty task of letting go.
I would lose Gerard. I had never really had him, and I had never really went as far as to realize I wanted to have him, but I would lose him nontheless. I would lose the scraps of my denial that I had held on to, thinking he wasn't entirely gay.
Not gay enough to not date Kat, and not gay enough to not have sex with me.

I had deluded myself into thinking there was a chance.

I wasn't ready to let go of that.


Slowly it dawned on me that I would lose Frank, as well. Not immediately, not in reaction to him being gay, but we would drift apart in a vague manner much due to the fact that he would have the one that I discreetly wanted. I don't think I would be able to bear it, and I would gradually start to lose the only real friend I ever had. My partner in crime. My only confidant. My motherfucking Luigi..

Super Mario and Luigi wanted the same damn mushroom, and someone was bound to get hurt.
Yet again, the odds were against me. The mushroom wanted Luigi.

It took me a long time to snap out of my thoughts, and once I finally did, it took another moment to realize the thick, heavy silence that had fallen upon us. I looked up with panic written all over my face - did he know I was lying? Had I been so transparent? Did he k-

His face was indiscribable - his eyebrows were nearly drawn together by a deep frown, his eyes no longer held any traces of joy or hope, they remained a pair of empty black holes in his skull. His mouth was slightly open, and the shaky breaths he took were the only proof that he hadn't dropped dead infront of me. His hands no longers gripped mine, and I withdrew them, suddenly feeling like something was very, very wrong.

I couldn't deal with whatever it was - I had come here thinking I would talk to him about that night, to apologize, and then leave. I was not prepared for anything less lighthearted than that, I didn't have it in me to endure anything more dramatic, anything more severe, and I jumped up, heading for the stairs.

I think he knew that I was keeping something from him.

"Em, wait." I heard him whisper, but didn't turn around. I couldn't deal with this. Whatever this was. Everything was supposed to be fine after I'd gone my way to apologize. It was supposed to be simple. Easy. Now my mind had forced itself to confess that I had feelings for Gerard, which alone was way too much for me to handle without getting frantic, and adding the look on Frank's face that had gone from relief to horror - I knew nothing anymore.

I was out of my depth here, and my natural response to feeling out of depth was to leave the scene, run, and shrug it off later.

"I have to go, I have a job interview at six. We could all get together at my place afterwards? Seven-ish? I'll call Grace and.." My voice trailed off and I was greatful that I couldn't see his face from where I was standing. I took a deep breath and started towards the first steps, calling out to him once more before I landed on the first floor,

"Gotta go now, Frank, see ya later!" I grimaced at my attempt at a cheerful tone, and flew out of the front door.

Some really weird fucking shit was going on in my group of friends and acquaintances and I couldn't take it. This was so not the time for a job interview, but I figured I'd take anything at this point to get my mind off these men. Nevermind the other one was actually taking me to the said interview....Gah!

I was so going to get wasted afterwards. It was my only hope to ever get through this stupid interview with a million things on my mind. I stopped dead as I realized that I would in fact have Gerard accompany me. I would have to face him first time since acknowledging my feelings toward him. And so soon! I had had no time to prepare myself for this! I needed a week, or even a full day to get my head sorted out and my fucking act together before seeing his face!
I sat down onto the curb and lowered my head, resting my forehead on my knees.

I would have to do everything in my might to forget about Gerard, to suppress whatever it is I'm feeling and get over it. When I'm done doing that, when I can trust myself not to fall apart over it, I will tell Frank the truth and they both can be happy, and I will survive.

I just have to pray that neither of them will have the guts to confess anything to each other until I'm done preparing myself for the unavoidable.

In ten minutes, Gerard will be picking me up and I will put on a brave face, a face that gives away nothing, and I will fucking shine at Comic Network. When I'm done there, I will find the first liquor store and drink my brains out. I hope Frank didn't take the invite seriously, because what I had in mind included me, Grace (whose level of fucked-up-ness has never ceased to make me feel better about myself) and possibly a pill or two from her to help me regain weightlessness. But no more than two.. three, tops.



There. I have a plan. I only have to stick with it.