Boston 1957, Thanksgiving.

Gerard squeezed Frank's hand tighter, for the first time, not wanting to even crack a smile at the smallness of it since they met. He held on, closing his eyes, he wasn't letting go. He was holding on for dear life- no, he was holding on to his life. 25 years with him, his best friend, the love of his life, his other half. He's fight until his own demise for this man.

"Gee..." Frank sighed.

Gerard's eyes flitted open, "Yeah? Are you alright? I-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." Frank managed a weak smile, causing Gerard to crack his own. "I don't want you to worry okay? I told you, I'll get through this. Just like I got through pneumonia twice, and the car accident, and the-"

"I know. I know, you're a trooper." Gerard said, running a hand through Frank's hair and kissing his forehead. "I know."

"Anything. We'll get through everything. Remember? Stop worrying, Gee."

"I'm not worrying, Frank." The white, sterile atmosphere of the hospital room was putting him on edge.

"Yes you are, bug."

"Frank. I'm not." He wished he could sound irritated, but it showed impossible in their situation.

"Yes you are. I've spent twenty five years with you; you think I don't know how to read your face yet? You're worried."

Gerard kissed his forehead again, holding his lips there longer than the first time, closing his eyes again, "I am worried. Because this isn't easy to beat. Not everyone gets through it."

Frank rolled his eyes. Those beautiful eyes of his. "Alright, well, I've made it through this much; I think I can make it though. So little faith in me!" Frank smirked. Gerard couldn't help but smile back. Frank intertwined their fingers and looked up at Gerard, "But, bug, if I don't... Fly me to the moon and stay with me forever?"

"Always... always, Frank."

The knock on the door startled them both, the nurse they'd had the last two days sauntered in with Frank's lunch, unappealing, potato soup.

"You two, you make my day. You know that? You do. I'm envious, of what you too have... love, happiness." She shrugged, acting like it was nothing, but she yammered on about her love life. Frank smiled up at Gee, stealing looks at each other, knowing each other's thoughts on the nurse without saying a word.

The nurse took a seat in the chair next to the cold hospital bed directly across from Gerard. "How did you two meet?"

"What?" Gerard retorted. Almost defensive. Frank squeezed his hand.

"I mean, how did you two meet? It must be a sweet tale..." the nurse mumbled innocently, almost like a child, asking for a princess bed time story. Sorry honey, this wasn't your classic Disney.

"Well..." Frank started. "No, no, you tell it Gee. You're better at it."

"Me?" he laughed, "No way, you're way better at it. WAY better, I always get parts mixed up."

They went back in forth about it, laughing, glowing almost.

"Oh, come on! Someone tell me the story!" the nurse giggled, much too excited for her own good.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell it. Fine. IF I MUST." Frank said, dramatically, causing him to go into a coughing fit. "Alright, well, it was actually Thanksgiving, in New Jersey..."

New Jersey 1932, Thanksgiving.

Roars of laughter and the cheers of the men watching football filled the room as much as the signature smells of Thanksgiving. He stumbled into him, causing gravy to dribble down the front of the crisp, white button down the shacked man whom he had just collided with. In an instant panic, he attempted to blot out the stain that the liquid would soon enough form.

"Shit, I'm so sorry! I am- oh. Man, it's going to stain. Man, is there, uh, is there anything I can do? I can replace it, I-"

"It's fine, it's fine, I promise" he said laughing.

He looked up from the towel he was holding to the man's green eyes standing before him. Biting his lip; thinking, hesitating.

"I mean, it's going to stain though... are you positive, I feel terrible..." he mumbled, looking back down at the cotton towel.

"Yes," the emerald eyed man laughed. "I can get it cleaned, it's not a problem, I swear."

"Uh, alright then, alright. I- yeah." He smiled down at the gravy bowl, "So much for gravy, eh?" he sighed, setting the empty china on the counter. Smiling at the green eyed man, noticing the almost childlike smiles he was wearing.

"I guess not! Uhm, have we met? I don't want to be rude; I've just been meeting new family members left and right..."

"No sir, I'm Frank Iero, I'm a friend of Doris... She's Jason's sister."

"Ah! I see, Jason is my new brother-in-law. It's really nice to meet you though, Mr. Iero." He said each syllable with emphasis, almost teasingly. "I'm Gerard."

"Gerard what?" Frankie said, tilting his head in amusement. He smiled at the Jersey accent heavy on his tongue.

"Way." He smiled back.

"Oh, well, it's nice to meet you too Mr. Way." attempting to say each syllable with mocking emphasis. "Thank didn't work as well as I thought it would." he tagged on, laughing. "Now that you say it, I can tell you're a Way, you look like one, or, at least what I've seen of them." Frank smiled; he was noticing the pale skin, and intelligent eyes of Mr. Way.

"Well, thank you sir. I can see you aren't one of us as well, thank goodness." He grinned his cheesy grin, compliments of his father.

"Why is that?" Frankie laughed, unsure if it was a compliment, or an insult.

Gerard nodded towards him. "Well, you just don't look like us; you don't have the same mouth. I don't know, you can just tell" He shrugged, not willing to let him know what was really going on in his mind. He was in reality admiring the boy's eyes, greener than his own, and his mouth of his, it was fucking perfect... He had to shake himself to focus again.

"Ah, damn, I was hoping I could blend in here." He laughed, grinning up at Gerard.

"Come sit with me? I think they're getting ready to bless the food." Gerard said through an uncontrollable smile as he turned towards the dining room.

"Of course I will, Mr. Way." He said with mocking emphasis again as he started towards the door with him, intentionally closer than before.

Frank turner the scrap of paper over and over in his hands, smiling. He bit his lip again. They had exchanged address, promising to write, hoping silently, that they could fan the spark they had created on that much too cold November evening. Could they? With him living on the complete opposite side of Jersey? Himself living on the outskirts of New York, leading completely different lives? It wasn't that far away, not too too far, he kept promising himself.

He stood on the semi-iced over sidewalk, tapping his uncomfortable, black dress shoe impatiently. Waiting for the trolley. It was running late, and he was regretting not accepting Gerard's offer of walking with him to the trolley stop.

"I can take it to Manhattan with you at least, then take it back to Jersey from there." he had told him, saying he wanted him home safe. Neither seemed entirely safe to him, and his lack of trust was getting him nowhere, he politely declined and gathered up his black trench coat as he hugged goodbye the friends he had come with.

And here he stood; in front of the trolley that had finally showed up. His black dress shoes click, click, clicking in the floor of the trolley car as he made his way to the back. Sitting down and propping up his feet on the vacant cold leather seat next to him. He leaned his head back on the frosted glass, closing his eyes. Reviewing the night in his mind, thinking of all the things he would change, criticizing his every move, and kicking himself for not being bolder.

With his eyes closed, he became all too aware of his exhaustion. After drifting off for only a few minutes, the trolley screeched to a stop, knocking Frank completely out of his seat, onto the ground. Eyes blinking open, he looked across the vacant seats, looking for a good reason for the extreme sudden stop. He glanced around, noticing a tall figure in the dim light of the trolley coming towards the back, breathing hard. His heart racing, it jumped to his throat, choking him with panic, he plotted out how he would attack his own attacker. He held his breath, and tried to look angry, in a desperate attempt to scare away the must-be-murderer. Trying to emit a frightening vibe, it was really a sad sight, but he tried. Panic was setting in until the man's face came into focus in the light.

"G- Gerard?" he stuttered, rising from his seat.

"Sir, you, in the black, please take your seat" shouted the driver in a thick, angry Boston accent.

"Sorry..."He mumbled, looking down." But wait. WAIT. Gerard? What?"

He laughed and took his seat next to Frank. "You obviously have never taken a trolley to Manhattan at this hour before, it's too dangerous."

"H- What? How did you get here?" Frank stammered out, shocked, wondering if e had hit his head too hard when he had fallen out of his seat.

"I ran."

"You ran?"

"I ran." He smiled, and slouched down in his seat, still breathing hard. He lit a cigarette, and looked at him. "One thing, woo. One thing, if I die because of that run, do one thing for me?"

"Yeah? What?" Frank replied, completely confused at what he was talking about.

"Fly me to the moon, and stay with me?"

Frank turned away from him, and faced the seat in front of him, "He ran."

Boston, 1957 Thanksgiving.

"And I never left. He wouldn't have gotten rid of me after that if he wanted to." Gerard finished. The nurse had tears forming.

"Oh my, oh my. I just can't even fathom that. I just...Oh." she was babbling as she left the room.

"I love you Frank." Gerard said, kissing him gently, afraid to hurt him.

"I love you too Gee. Fly me to the moon..." Frank mumbled back.

"And I'll stay with you forever." Gee smiled, as he squeezed his hand and smiled down at him.