You're a Heart Attack In Black Hair Dye
Now I know that I can't make you stay
But where's your heart?
But where's your heart?
But where's your...
And I know there's nothing I can say to change that part
Frank strums the last few chords of Helena and lets his guitar down. The lights shut off with the theatrical sound effects they always are and he watches his best friend, Gerard, close his eyes. Frank blinks a few times as his eyes start to adjust to the normal lighting, discreetly admiring Gerard from the edge of the stage, regardless of the show being over.
Gerard walks into the side wings and doesn't speak to anyone. Frank almost holds his arms out, expecting the usual hug he receives after every show, but instead he just glances at the ebony haired man as he passes. Frank runs a hand through his sweaty hair and walks slowly off the stage. He tries his best to put on a smile for his fans as he signs his name hundreds of times, but it gets more difficult as he lets his mind wander; trying to figure out what is wrong with Gerard. After all, he is nowhere to be seen backstage. Frank assumes he is back on the bus curled up in the back seats.
Imagining this brings a small smile to Frank's face. After all the work they have done tonight, they all deserve some sleep; Gerard especially. After a few more photos, Frank finds a way to sneak out the back door, his hand with a slight cramp from autograph signing. He eyes the bus which stands across the venue lot. A cold breeze softly blows with a slight stinging sensation as Frank closes the door behind him, unsure whether to walk towards the bus or not. The worry wins over and he walks to it, hesitant in his steps. Frank is terrified for his friend. All evening he had seemed to have less energy and didn't quite seem like himself. Frank feels something is wrong but he doesn't know what.
He enters the bus and finds the strong scent of alcohol lingering. He sighs miserably and finds his best friend sitting with already two empty bottles and drinking another one. No… Frank murmurs under his breath and sits across from Gerard. Gerard doesn't look up and Frank doesn't expect him to.
He takes a deep breath and goes into his rehearsed rant. "Gerard, I know you don't want any help. We all know that. But you need help. You need to talk to us. You were getting better! What do you think you are doing?"
"I'm done," came the singer's response. "I'm done with being sober. It's terrifying on stage and I'm tired of all of this."
"We don't expect you to adjust immediately, Gee… you knew this was going to be hard, but you've got to give it some time! It hurts me to see you in pain. It hurts all of us... you don't deserve this."
Frank has to pause for a moment in his response due to his voice cracking. It is all true, though. Despite Frank's almost authoritative voice, every time he sees his best friend like this, it feels as if he is breaking inside. Gerard means the world to him, and seeing him broken is enough to bring even Frank's normally upbeat, positive attitude down. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts again.
This is interrupted by Gerard's soft, shaking voice breaking the heavy silence which has fallen over the small bus in Frank's attempt to recompose himself. "I tried, Frankie- I promise I did."
"I know you did, Gee. I know... look, you better try to at least get some sleep. We have to get up early for that interview tomorrow," Frank responds as he gently puts a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Sleep well."
Frank starts to stand up as he feels a hand reach up and grab his own. He looks down to see Gerard looking back up at him.
"Wait-" came Gerard's voice in a barely audible whisper. "Can you, er, can you stay over here tonight?"
The shorter of the two gives him his best gentle smile. Frank knows what he is talking about. Sometimes, when it was cold at night and there were limited blankets, Frank would wake up during the night to find himself cuddled against Gerard, which he wasn't complaining about at all. And on some occasions, he would wake up and find himself wedged in between Gee and Ray, with Ray's huge hair strangling him. That was… slightly less pleasant.
"Of course, Gee." Frank responds. And with that, he curls up against Gerard. Frank is just small enough to fit on the same seat. Gerard still smells of sweat and it is obvious that his hair has not been washed in quite a while, but Frank doesn't really care. He is simply happy to be with his best friend. He feels safe.
The metallic clanging noise of a door closing brings Frank back to reality just as they both had started to drift to sleep. Frank's eyes adjust to what appears to be Ray. Then he sees that a slightly smaller body is holding onto Ray's. It's obviously Mikey, who, in short sleeves, is shivering so hard that Frank is almost certain he is shaking Ray as well, along with the glasses that are perched right at the end of his nose.
"Well it's your fault for not bringing a jacket, dipshit!" Ray laughs, continuing the conversation they started outside. He quiets down when he realizes that Gerard is asleep.
"Sh-shut up-p!" Mikey shoots back as he curls up into one of the front seats, wrapping a blanket around himself. He grabs what seems to be a stuffed unicorn and Ray stifles a giggle. Mikey gives him his best death glare, which of course looks more adorable than intimidating. He turns his head to face Frank, Gerard, and the empty beer bottles. Mikey lets out what almost seems to be a small whimper seeing the bottles, which Frank noticed.
"I know, Mikey… me too, dude." Frank chokes.
Frank brushes his hair to the side and watches Gerard out of the corner of his eye. Gerard is acting normal, as if nothing had happened the night before. But Frank is still worried about his friend. He has only smudges of makeup on and his normally tame hair is wild. Frank knows this is nothing like Gerard.
Frank doesn't realize he's been so contained in his thoughts until Mikey gives him a small nudge to the side, indicating that the interviewer is asking him a question. He looks up to see eager faces looking towards his.
"Oh, uh, yes?" Frank manages to choke out, hoping that he didn't just agree to something he'll regret in thirty seconds.
His band mates stare at him for a moment in surprise.
"Wow, Frankie," Ray starts. "I didn't think you'd agree to that!"
"Wait, agree to what…?"
That's all Frank can manage before a man comes out, holding a small box.
"What exactly is in the box?" Frank squeaks, guessing it isn't going to be pleasant.
Unfortunately, that's the last thing Frank can say before the box is handed to him. He cautiously opens it only to find an enormous spider. Upon discovering this, Frank lets out a squeal, almost dropping the box.
"HOLY FU-" He shrieks, followed by literallyjumping straight into Gerard's lap.
Gerard obviously is already in a bad mood, but even so no one hurts his Frankie.
Frank recognizes his friend's protective demeanor when he sees that Gerard is actually staring down the spider, as if he's mentally cursing it.
The interviewer, who is almost in a state of shock at this point (mainly because Frank's aim to jump into Gerard was kind of bad, resulting in Frank almost kicking her), finally manages to compose herself again.
"And I believe that's all we have time for today!" She says, masking her shock in that almost fake happy tone interviewers always have to use.
Frank is relieved that the interview came to an end. He steps outside to the back of the building and takes out a cigarette assuming the rest of the guys were already back on the bus. Or, at least, Mikey is. He had just previously seen the younger of the Ways sprinting back to the bus in his ridiculous short sleeves, yelling, "SCREW JACKETS!"
This brings him to recall the time where he asked Mikey why he doesn't bother with coats or jackets. The young bassist responded with something about the jackets covering up his "awesome band tee-shirts." He had never seen Mikey more serious about anything since the debate with his older brother about whether unicorns existed or not. The memory brings a small smile to Frank's lips.
He lets out a small cloud of smoke, watching it slowly blow away in the nearly frigid air. The relaxing atmosphere vanishes when Ray suddenly appears beside him, out of breath.
"Dude, how long have you been running?" Frank raises his dark eyebrows.
"Frank, it's Gera-"
Frank doesn't give Ray time to finish. He drops the cigarette and is already running as fast as he can towards the bus.
Frank practically flies through the bus doors and rushes to the back of the bus where Gerard is on his knees, leaning forward; as if he is hiding something.
"Get Frankie. Please go find Frankie-!" Gerard is still muttering to himself. This must be what he was telling Ray seconds before Ray found Frank. Gerard is obviously trying to hold back tears, but he isn't exactly succeeding in it. Frank almost starts to cry himself, yet manages to hold himself together. That is, until Gerard feels his presence and slowly looks up.
This is when Frank tear up, taking in the sight below him. Gerard looks back up at him with his pale complexion, now even paler than usual. His face is tear stained and full of regret, fear, anger, and intensity. It is only when Frank finally notices the crimson slits on the singer's wrists does he actually break down. He gets down to Gerard's level and his tears spill over his eyes, causing his vision to become blurry.
"Frankie, no," Gerard starts. "Do not cry for me."
Frank's voice is almost a whisper. "How can I not, Gerard?"
"Just don't. I can't see you cry. Especially when it's too late for me-" he chokes.
"No! We'll get you help! It's not too late! It can't be…" Frank panics.
"I'm sorry," Gerard whispers looking at the deep lines on his wrists.
"It's not too late," he insists.
"I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm so sorry."
"I know, Gee." Frank responds. An idea pops into Frank's mind. Drying his eyes, he stands up.
"Wait here," Frank says hopefully. "I think I've got something."
He makes his way to his bunk. He opens up one of his bags containing gauze, which Frank always needs just in case he jumps off any more drumsets. Or people.
He quickly goes back to where he left his friend, small and curled up on the bus floor. Kneeling beside him, Frank takes out the gauze. "Let me see your wrists, Gee."
Gerard slowly holds out his damaged wrists towards his best friend. Frank kneels down and wraps the gauze carefully around his wrists.
Without thinking, he lifts Gerard's bandaged limbs to his lips and kisses them softly. "Don't hurt yourself anymore," Frank whispers and stands back up.
Gerard's pale face suddenly loses its ghost like color and replaces it with a bright rose color. A small smile curls at the very end of his lips, which of course makes Frank feel much happier inside knowing that his friend was content. Which is all true. Just seeing Frank's warm, comforting smile is always more than enough to make Gerard feel better.
Frank tosses and turns in his sleep that night, having numerous nightmares over and over of his best friend hurting himself. Frank jerks up in his seat, tears streaming down his face and whimpering Gerard's name. He's breathing heavily and looks around to see if he accidentally woke anyone during this time. He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees Mikey and Ray only stir slightly in their deep slumber.
Frank lazily stands up, careful not to wake up anyone. Especially Mikey; That guy's like Satan or something if you wake him up. He tiptoes out of the bus and into the cold midnight air with only the light of his cigarette glowing so he could see. Frank starts to walk forward when he finds himself falling face first onto the pavement, due to tripping over an object. A very large object.
Frank winces as he starts to stand up, brushing himself off, just as he's almost certain he saw the dark object stir. In fact, the object is whimpering. Oh, god, no. Frank thinks to himself as he rushes towards the now shaking 'object.'
"Gee…?!" Frank asks with obvious worry in his voice.
"F-Frankie-?" Gerard responds, almost as if he is talking to himself instead of Frank.
"I'm here, Gerard. What are you doing out here? It's like, three in the morning!"
"I know Frank. I'm sorry-" Gerard only manages to sob out as his shaking arms slowly raise up to reveal that the bandages that Frank had wrapped just the day before, gone.
"Gerard! What happened to the bandages?" Frank tries to sound calm but his voice only sounds more eccentric when he realizes Gerard's wrists are bleeding again.
This is when Gerard starts to cry. Not just small whimpers, but actually crying. "I can't do it anymore, Frankie! I-I want to die-" Gerard closes his eyes.
Frank doesn't bother to wipe the tears that immediately fall down his face when he hears Gerard say this. How could Gerard say that? Why can't he realize how beautiful he is? Thoughts spin through Frank's mind, and the only thing that he can do is bring Gerard up into his arms and hold him tightly; never wanting to let go.
"So- cold-" is all Gerard can choke out between whimpers.
"I know, Gee," Frank whispers into his ear. "Just hold on to me. I'll get you warm. I'll get you safe."
"No, Frankie. I'm going to die- I'm going to die here. Now." Gerard looks at him weakly his eyes barely open, but his arms tight around Frank's nervous body.
Frank barely shakes his head and buries his face in Gerard's frail shoulder. "Don't leave me."
"Too late for that," came an almost laugh. The singer's weak hand reaches up to his friend's head and moves it so he can look into the other's eyes. "I won't without this." And in that sentence, Gerard sounds strong.
Gerard leans in close to Frank, their lips touch and the kiss was sweet and innocent in a moment of pure sorrow. It ends too soon as Frank feels his best friend's body go limp in his arms. Even through his blurred vision, due to the stinging sensation of tears welling up, Frank notices that Gerard doesn't look like how people are always describing the deceased. There isn't anything remotely creepy or eerie about him. Despite his pale complexion and sad eyes, Gerard is smiling. It's the same smile Frank would receive when Gerard would see him enter the room. It's his Gerard's smile.
Frank kisses his friend's forehead and whispers in his ear, "Sleep well, Gerard."
He doesn't expect morning to come soon. Frank lays down and curls against the motionless body of Gerard Way, the best man he had ever known, and went to sleep hoping it had all been a dream.
What's the worst thing I can say?
Things are better if I stay.
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight