Disclaimer: Own, I do not the members of My Chemical Romance or the Used. Neither do I own any of the song lyrics contained within this document. Don't sue me, don't steal, and have fun. :)

Because You're the Only Hope for Me

The Collision

of

Frank Iero

and

Gerard Way

If there's a place that I could be

Then I'd be another memory.

Can I be the only hope for you,

Because you're the only hope for me?

And if we can't find where we belong,

We'll have to make it on our own,

Face all the pain and take it on,

Because the only hope for me is you alone.

Collision

I was feeling pretty low.

Basically this whole day has kind of sucked. Not that anything particularly bad ever happened; it's all been little stuff, random things happening all throughout my morning and midday that had finally built up to make this day suck.

I was wearing my hood over my head as I walked into the music store for some much-needed solace. I was with a couple friends; well, they were sort of my friends. I didn't really care about them. I don't think they really cared about me. One of them was skipping school to be here with us; he seemed totally psyched to be out of school. I would almost give being back in school just for something to do. I would have graduated a few months ago had I not flunked at the last minute. The school told me I had to take 12th grade over again. I refused to do it. "I'm never going to college," I stated when my parents asked how failing school would ultimately affect my life. "So it doesn't matter whether I finish school or not." And it didn't, I told myself. I didn't care about what I was learning in school; they weren't really even teaching us anything. All I cared about was music; music was my life, as much music as I could take in each day, surrounding myself with it. I played guitar, I played bass. Now I'm in a music store. You do the math.

I wasn't feeling as interested in the store as I normally would have. I had been here three days ago. The company didn't help either. The guys were hyper, darting between displays almost the second we were in the door, talking and laughing in loud voices. Another loud voice cut through my stupor. I raised my eyes, lined in red, to the direction of the voice. A largish man was yelling at a shorter, paler man behind the front desk. The other man was pale…did I say that already…? well he was deathly pale, like, vampiric almost, with raven hair that fell unkempt to his shoulders. He was wearing a dark hoodie and a dark shirt underneath. I could see the top of his dark jeans; his eyes were lined in faded black, like he may have been wearing the same liner for several days. He was taking the larger man's words pretty well, I thought, considering the larger man was screaming in his face. I couldn't discern what exactly the vampire guy had done to deserve this manic treatment, but at least he was taking it well. I wondered if he was used to it.

"Yo, Frankie, check this!"

I looked over to my friend, very much not caring what he had to show me. I realized in the back of my mind that I was far more interested in the verbal abuse behind the counter than whatever this guy thought was interesting.

It was some new album. From some band. I didn't even care who it was.

I heard a new voice start shouting. I looked back quickly and saw the vampire coming back in the other guy's face, spitting his response as though he had been holding himself back from saying these things for as long as the other man had been yelling at him. I couldn't hear his words over the loud music in the store, but I felt like he was justified in whatever he was saying. He looked strong, like he was completely convinced he was right.

He finished. They stared each other down for a few seconds. Then the larger man pointed. He just pointed. His fat, stubby finger was aiming into the office behind the counter. The other man looked from the office back to him, then stormed into the room without a word. He emerged carrying a beaten leather jacket. He stepped passed the larger man without sparing him a glance, and walked out into the rest of the store, moving towards the door.

I wasn't paying attention. I wasn't thinking. I didn't move, and he must not have noticed me - the consequences of being short - and before I realized what was happening, he had slammed into me, almost sending me sprawling.

"Oh," he said, sounding a little stunned. "Oh, man, I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

"It's okay," I responded, rubbing my arm a little where we'd collided. "I should have moved, I didn't see you either."

"You didn't hear me?" he asked with a bemused little smile, glancing over his shoulder at the large man, who was attending to another customer with a sour look on his face.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I'm sorry. Did he…fire you?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding unconcerned. "But it doesn't matter."

"Why?" I asked, and then thought maybe I should clarify. "Why'd he fire you?"

"No reason," he responded, blowing a strand of ebony hair out of his face. "And I don't care. Crappy job anyway."

"Mm," I said, hearing my friends shouting somewhere behind me. I think they might have been shouting at me.

"Those you're friends?" the vampiric man asked.

I shrugged. "I guess," I said.

"Hey, Frankie, come look at this!"

"Well, I guess I better leave," the vampire was saying, looking back at the counter, from behind which the large man was glaring at him, his arms crossed angrily. "Before he calls someone to kick me out."

"What are you going to do now?" I asked impulsively. That question wasn't even in my mind until I heard my own mouth saying the words.

The vampire shrugged. "Buy some coffee. Maybe walk to the park. Why?"

I smiled a little. "I kind of meant long term."

"Oh. I don't know. Find another job, I guess." He shrugged. "Anyway…" He turned with a little wave and walked towards the sliding doors. I sighed and turned back to my friends. My…those people I know. They were shouting for me again. I did not want to come and join them.

"Hey…"

I looked back quickly; the vampire was standing within the first sliding door, looking back at me. "Do you…maybe, wanna get some coffee with me?"

I…what? was my only somewhat coherent thought before my mind was taken over in a whirl of strange emotions. He wants to get coffee with me? We barely even met. I don't even know his name!

"Hey Frankie!"

"Yeah," I said firmly to him, my mind suddenly made up. I stepped away from my wild acquaintances, towards this pale, dark-clothed enigma that I had just watched get fired less than a minute ago. "I would."

"Cool," he said, a smile of relief crossing his features. I joined him at the sliding doors. I think I heard one of the guys call, "Frank?" uncertainly as I was walking out, but I didn't really care. They had the car to get home.

I stepped out beside my new companion into the brisk autumn breeze. It was more chill than normal, and he pulled his leather jacket on quickly.

"The best coffee place is just down the street," he said, rubbing his pale, long-fingered hands together. "You'll like it."

I mumbled something obligatory. Some back part of my mind was shouting at me that this was insane, randomly going for coffee with a random person I had just watched get fired. He could be about to kill me, or take me back in an ally and suck my blood, which honestly seemed more likely. The man was so pale, I just couldn't get over it. Had he ever seen the light of day?

"I'm Gerard, by the way," he added, stopping his manic friction to offer me his right hand.

"Frank Iero," I responded, taking his hand. It was deathly cold, colder than mine.

"So, do you normally take random requests from random people to go out and get coffee?" he - Gerard - asked. "'Cuz I just realized that was pretty random. I understand if you wanna leave and go back to the music store."

And those freaks I came here with? No way. "No. And no, I don't, not really. You're not a mass murderer, are you?"

"No," he said, laughing a little as though he thought being considered a mass murderer was rather funny.

I realized I thought it was too, and laughed a little with him. "Well, I am," I said, sliding my hand into the side of my red hoodie like I was reaching for a hidden gun. "And I only agreed to come so I can add you to my list of rotting corpses."

"You keep a list?" he asked.

I nodded. "I keep a book of the names, and those only go so far till you bury them," I said, still nodding sadistically.

He laughed very quietly. "That's really clever, actually. Those are good words."

"Um…thanks," I said, wondering if he wrote poetry or something.

"Oh, this is it," he said, pointing towards a small shop on our right and altering his course towards the front door. By the way he moved, it was almost like the shop was a magnet, and he was the metal. "Coffee," he whispered as he pushed open the door, not seeming to realize he was even speaking. I smiled a little. I liked his subconscious whispering.

"Hey, Gerard," said the red-haired girl behind the counter, looking up briefly from her screen before returning attention to her current customer.

"Hey, Roberta," Gerard called across the room. First name basis. Friends, lovers, or Gerard really loves this coffee shop.

I breathed in the heavenly scent of coffee beans, chocolate, and cake. I can understand why he loves it.

Gerard waited in Roberta's line even though hers was slightly longer than the one to our right. The look she gave him - amiable, but without a smile - made me think definitely not lovers. That look was far from romantic.

"Uh, tall cappuccino…how's life, Roberta?"

"Same. How's yours?"

"I just got fired."

"Harsh." She didn't sound like she thought it was. She almost sounded like she would love to get fired.

"You should take the man some coffee, tell him you're sorry," a guy in the back called to Gerard, looking up briefly from fixing Gerard's order.

"And throw it in his face!" Gerard snapped back, laughing a little. That brought the smallest quirk to Roberta's mouth. Almost a smile.

"What'd you do?"

"Nothing. Just the usual."

"Agh. Your boss is a d…"

"Roberta!" a faint voice shouted from a small room to the side. "What did we say about customer relations and company policy?"

"Sorry." She leaned closer to Gerard and whispered, "Your boss is an ass-hole."

Gerard laughed a little. "I'm aware."

The teenager in the back leaned around Roberta to set Gerard's coffee on the counter. Gerard thanked him as he pulled out his wallet. He paid and took the coffee, stepping aside for me to order.

I started to open my mouth, my eyes on the board and all the awesome hot caffeine-and-sugar I could potentially order, when I realized that I had no money with me. I had left it all at home, all five dollars of it, determined not to spend it all while I was out with my sort-of friends. "Um…" I said, a little embarrassed. "Never mind. I don't have any cash…"

I stepped aside, but Gerard stopped me, looking very concerned. "I'll pay for it. No one should ever have to go without coffee."

I would have refused him - I mean, I normally would have refused anyone, but I had had such a bad day, and I was already doing slightly insane things, so I might as well do more. "Okay," I said, stepping back towards the counter. "Thanks."

We walked back outside into the wind and the grey atmosphere, the cold no longer effective on us with the charm of hot cups of coffee in our hands. The wind kind of bites, though – I'm only wearing my hoodie as outerwear. Gerard looks unconcerned in his leather jacket.

"So, do you like music?" I asked, wondering if we had anything in common besides our similar clothes - he was wearing black skinny jeans that were slightly too big for his slim hips and worn Converse, like me, besides our obvious eye make-up.

"Yeah, a lot," he said. "What kind of bands do you like?"

"Mm, screamo, metal heads, punk. Black Flag, the Misfits…"

"No way, I love the Misfits!"

"Get out," I said, wanting to push him but too concerned about spilling coffee. "They're one of my favorite bands."

"Yeah, mine too. And I've been listening to a lot of Metallica recently. My friend Ray…I blame him."

I laughed a little. "Metallica's cool. You like Iron Maiden?"

Music carried us down the streets of the city, and when I looked up at our location again, I saw we were on the sidewalk outside of the park. Gerard had been serious about going to the park on a day as dreary and dark as this one.

Gerard drained the last of his coffee and tossed the empty cup into a trash can. I clung to my almost-empty cup as I followed him over the fence onto the grass around the swing set. Gerard claimed one of the swings, wrapping his arm around one chain, and I sat down on the one next to him. I had to jump to make it; my feet swung several inches above the ground.

"So, do you have a job?" Gerard asked, rubbing the back of his head. He was musing over being fired, I could tell.

"Not really," I said awkwardly. "I just got out of school."

"Oh, okay."

"Do you go to college?" I asked, not really sure my exact reasoning for bringing up that subject.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, I used to. For like two years."

"What'd you take?" I asked, wondering what he was interested in.

"I went to art school," he said, shrugging.

"That's cool," I said.

"So are you going to college?" Gerard asked after a moment.

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I didn't finish school, so it's not like I can anyway."

"You could," Gerard responded gently. It struck me as really nice of him to say that.

"But I don't really want to," I finished. "I'd rather just…play music," I muttered, trying and failing to kick the rocks below my feet.

"You play music?"

"Guitar, yeah. It's awesome, I love it."

Gerard laughed a little, looking at his shoes. "I can sort of play. Kind of. I'm not any good."

"Oh, come on," I said, glancing at him. "I'm sure you're fine."

He laughed again. "No, I suck at guitar. My brother, Mikey, though…he plays bass. He's awesome."

"Cool," I said, smiling a little.

Gerard brushed his hair back from his face, but it only fell back again. I loved the contrast between those two features; his ebony hair to his ivory skin. It was gorgeous.

Wait, was I just staring at Gerard? Oh em gee, I think I was. I blushed a little turned determinedly away, throwing my empty coffee cup to the far end of the gravel.

The wind was starting to pick up. I rubbed my arms.

"It's cold," Gerard stated, as though he had only just realized that. "Let's go somewhere else."

I jumped down from my swing and grabbed my coffee cup before it could blow away on the wind. "I'm into that. Hoodies are not good in wind."

"No," he agreed.

Shivering, we made our way back up the street towards the coffee shop and the music store. I scanned the parking lot for my friend's red car; I didn't see it. Great. I'd have to walk home.

Gerard stepped purposely in front of me, brushing past while rubbing his arms, shivering, purposely guiding me to the right. I followed him up to a beaten Subaru. He stood outside the door, using the car as a windbreak. "Do you need a ride somewhere?" he asked me, still shivering slightly, his teeth chattering together.

I should have said no, but I just nodded, too cold for words.

Gerard seemed to have reached that point as well, because he just turned and unlocked the car. I ran around the side to the passenger's door. He opened it from the inside and I threw myself in.

It didn't feel as cold inside his car as out. I think it was the lack of wind.

Gerard shivered again, rubbing his arms together, and shifted a few things around in his car, throwing some junk into the backseat, searching for his keys, which he had somehow managed to lose between unlocking the car and now. He finally found them, fallen between his seat and the arm rest; he turned the key in the ignition and his car shakily grumbled to life.

Rock music blasted from the stereo, filling the air around us.

"Okay," he said, turning in his seat so he could see out the rear window as he pulled backwards. "Just tell me where to go."

I gave him directions as we drove; I was tired, so I almost missed like, half of the turns. Finally he pulled up just outside my house.

I sat still for a moment, too tired to move. It was five. It was after five. I don't know. It doesn't matter. "Thanks, Gerard," I said, finally reaching and cracking the door.

"Don't mention it," he said.

I glanced back at him. Strangely, I didn't wanna leave. His car was warm and comfortable, whereas outside was chill and breezy. Kind of an easy choice to make.

"I guess I'll see you sometime," I said, pushing the door farther open with my foot. It was so cold outside. I irrationally wanted to stay here in Gerard's beaten Subaru listening to rock music forever.

"Yeah," he said, sounding numb, which somehow broke me enough from my own numbness to push the door the rest of the way open and climb out. "Hey, Frank?"

I stopped, looking back into the car. Gerard was hurriedly writing on a small scrap of shiny paper that looked like a gas receipt. "Here's my number," he said, holding it out to me. "If you ever wanna call."

I reached out for it, grasping it in my hand.

"You know," he added, smiling as he let it go. "If you ever feel like randomly going to get coffee with a random person again."

"Thanks," I said, smiling.

I honestly felt good as I walked up the steps toward my house. Despite the fact that I was irrationally exhausted and that the wind was biting my skin through my red hoodie, I felt warm. Happy, almost. Like today hadn't actually sucked so bad after all.

I crumpled the gas receipt with its new seven-digit number written on it, and slipped it into my pocket.

This fic is a distraction. It's distracting me. I'm writing another MCR fic right now called The Way of the Walking Dead. I just brought LynZ into that fic. I love LynZ and I'm excited to write about her, and I have some scenes already planned. But...then I read the awesome high school Frerards that are You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison by Muttly13 and High School by CosmicZombie, and all I want to do is put Gerard in random situations that involve Frank randomly kissing him. Argh! This is bad. So I started writing this the other night, after midnight. I felt like I should post it, even though it's not very good, for all of my fans who are waiting for an update on WotWD and won't get one, because of this. I thought I should share. So here it is. I'll keep updating until I lose interest; hopefully I'll finish it as that happens and then go back to WotWD, my Frerard fires all burnt out. We'll see. XD

Xoxo,

Rebel Rose