Hey guys! So, this is a sadder story, as I tend to write. If you review this one I'll write some cute, happy fluff. I'm posting it on here along with on wattpad, so you can check it out on either of those. I appreciate you're reviews. I do not own MCR or any of their songs (I wish!) But, here's my newest story. R&R please! J

The Tragic Life Of Frank Iero

Chapter 1

"Hurry up, Gerard! We're gonna be late!" Gerard walked behind Frank, getting distracted by every shiny thing in the parking lot. Frank wasn't surprised; Gerard was always like this on Fridays. It was as if he couldn't keep his attention on one thing for more than a minute.

A butterfly flitted by Frank's head and soon Gerard was chasing it, causing Frank to run after his absent-minded friend. The butterfly escaped, but it wasn't long before he found a new distraction. To Frank's relief, they had reached the school doors. He grabbed Gerard's arm and dragged him inside as the bell rang.

"So, what do you want to do this weekend?" asked Gerard, his dark hair a mess from the wind. It was a warm June morning, and there was only a few weeks of school left. The sky was clear and a refreshing breeze rustled the shrubs surrounding the building. It was perfect.

"You wanna jam? I haven't played in a while, and I need a singer." Gerard frowned.

"I'm not singing in one of your bands. You know I don't sing in front of people, Frankie." Frank just rolled his eyes.

"I'm not starting any new band. I just thought we could work on a few covers. It's okay if you want to do something else, though. I understand." He looked hurt at Gerard's lashing out, his hazel eyes glittering. Gerard's heart melted.

"No, it's okay. We'll work on some Iron Maiden covers. I know some great songs." They got to Gerard's classroom where he would spend the next agonizing hour learning Algebra. Frank would spend the first bit of his morning in separate classroom, in History. They would meet up again at lunch.

Gerard and Frank had been best friends since kindergarten, when an older boy stole Gerard's action figures and Frank stole them back, sneaking into his cubby, leaving a handful of glue-coated popsicle sticks in their place. The boy never stole from Gerard again, and he and Frank had been inseparable since. At sixteen years old, they had yet to get sick of each other.

"See you at lunch, Gee!" Frank said cheerfully. "I'll miss ya 'til then!" He flashed Gerard a heart-stopping smile, completely oblivious to the effect it had. For ten years, Gerard had been in love with Frank, who had no clue to what his best friend was feeling. Even a playful handhold or sweet message was enough to drive him crazy.

He entered the classroom, ignoring the crude comments as he made his way to a back desk. Someone threw a crumpled piece of paper at his head. He opened it up, rolling his eyes. In large, messy print, the word 'Fag' was scribbled. How creative, Gerard thought. Sure, it stung a little, but Frank almost always managed to take the sting of the insults away. He made him feel special, like he had a purpose on the earth.

The teacher walked in seconds later and began to write on the board. Ignoring the lesson altogether, Gerard began to doodle, writing phrases in his notebook.

There were several, including I'm Not Okay, We All Go To Hell, All We Are Is Bullets, Love Won't Stop This Bomb, and So Long And Goodnight. He did this for several minutes, including the odd song lyric from his favourite bands. The noise of the classroom was drowned out as his mind wandered, and he couldn't wait t o go home and sing with Frank. Frank. His mind kept wandering to him, as if an automatic function. He wondered if he was as bored as Gerard was, if he was doodling and writing song lyrics.

He jumped as a sound broke his daydream barrier. It was ear-splitting and cracked the air like a thunderbolt. Maybe it was. Unfortunately Gerard knew exactly what it was, and knew exactly why every other student in the classroom was hiding under their desk.

Someone had shot a gun. And the shot was coming from the area of Frank's classroom. Without a second thought. Gerard jumped up from his desk and bolted towards the door, where the teacher was in the process of locking it. He pushed him aside, only to be grabbed by the shoulders.

"Let me go!" he cried, feeling tears threatening. "I need to see Frank!"

"Mr. Way, you're endangering every other student in this room," hissed the teacher. Gerard managed to open the unlocked door and pulled against the teacher. He was successful and ran out into the empty hallway. He called Frank's name, not caring if the gunman found him or not. All he wanted was Frank. He turned a corner and ran towards Frank's classroom. He got a few meters before freezing, a scream sticking in his throat.

A few feet away was Frank, but he hadn't noticed Gerard. He was far from noticing him. Instead, he was lying in the middle of the hall, alone, holding his stomach. Blood was flowing through his fingers, and a quiet groan escaped his lips. Gerard swallowed bile and fell to his knees beside Frank, ignoring the blood that covered the bottom of his shoes.

"Frank," he whispered. Frank looked up through his bangs, his eyes empty of the life that had been in them only a half an hour earlier.

"Gerard." He winced as he spoke, as if the two syllables were each a knife to his heart.

"No, Gee, you have to go. Get safe." He shook his head and pulled Frank into his lap. His Misfits t-shirt was soaked in his own blood, darkening the black fabric.

"I'm not leaving you," he said, blinking back tears. He wouldn't cry. It would only upset Frank, and he would lose blood. When he opened his mouth to speak, Gerard put a scarlet finger to his lips. "Don't speak, Frankie. It'll only cause you to lose blood." He pulled off his shirt and pressed it against the gunshot wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. Frank coughed and snuggled into Gerard. "Frank, I love you. I've been in love with you since kindergarten, and-"

"-And you wanted me to know just in case I die," he finished. Frank smiled. "I'm not afraid to die, Gee. I'm not in a lot of pain, now that you're here. I was only worried to die in this hallway, alone, waiting for the police to show up. I want you to listen to me, though. Promise?" Gerard nodded and grabbed Frank's hand, squeezing it.

"I promise." He smiled as a tear rolled down his cheek, falling onto his bare chest.

"Good. If I don't make it, I want you to sing at my funeral. Since I trust you, I want you to pick the song. I love you, Gee, and I know you'll do this for me." As he finished speaking, he rested his head against Gerard's chest. The amount of blood that flowed from his stomach was decreasing. Gerard thought he was gone, and was about to start sobbing when Frank spoke again. "Don't bury me in some monkey suit. Bury me in one of my rock shirts and dress pants. I can't spend all of eternity in some shitty tie." He coughed and sucked in a wheezy breath. His voice was quiet, yet Gerard could still understand every word. "One last thing." He stopped and clutched his stomach, a trickle of blood leaking from his lips. "I want you to kiss me." He reached up and touched Gerard's cheek, streaking it with blood. "Please, for me."

Hesitating, Gerard leaned down and pressed his lips against Frank's. It tasted like salt and blood, and his lips were cool. Despite that, Frank kissed back as fully as he could, tasting Gerard for the first and last time. It felt like electricity and fireworks, like something tragically beautiful. When Gerard pulled away, Frank whispered something, but Gerard couldn't make it out.

He began to sob as his only love went limp, his chest slowing and eventually stopping. His everything was dead, and he had nothing to live for. If he had been with Frank he could've pushed him out of the way. He could have saved his life. As he held the cold body, he tried to think of what Frank had said. He wanted to know his dusted lover's tragic last words.

After several minutes of sobbing and thinking, it hit him like a tidal wave. Frank had whispered "So Long and Goodnight," some lyrics from the song they had been writing.

He watched as Frank was whisked away to the hospital because the medics had found a faint pulse, but Gerard knew he was already gone. Frank had accepted death so easily, as if it were a gift. Maybe it was.

He would have to overcome his fear for the funeral. He would sing his heart out for Frank, and he knew exactly what song he would do.