A/N: Hey Guys! Long time no see! So, my writers block finally broke for this but not for my Black Veil Brides fic so I do apologise. Since it's close to Christmas, I won't be on again for a while now but you've got this as a present and the Sherlock fic I uploaded a few weeks ago so that should keep you going. Apologies if there's any errors in this but after that, hope you guys all have a good Christmas and I hope to see you soon! :) xo

I apologise for not keeping in touch with you for a few months. I've been ill, you see. What started out as something as simple as a cough, turned into something much worse. But I promise I'll be okay. At least, I hope so, anyway.

It was a typical Friday night for Frank and I. The sort of Friday night that consisted of popcorn, movies and cuddles. Cookie included. I'd given up watching the movie that was was on TV (I couldn't for the life of me tell you what movie it was, anyway), to watch Frank, instead. Until you study Frank when he watches a movie, you won't quite understand how incredibly adorable he is. He doesn't laugh when something funny happens. No, no. He chuckles. And once you've seen it, I swear to you, you'll never find anything else quite as cute.

I gotta hand it to him, he's been working his ass off to keep me somewhat okay. Our kitchen began to resemble a chemist's counter with all the meds I've been on. Not to mention the amount of washing of clothes and bed sheets that he was doing because I'd either drenched them in sweat or puked all over them. Then, to top it all was the countless hours he'd spent on the internet trying to find some ways to keep me comfortable. Oh and the journeys back and forth to the hospital he'd done for me because I'd flatly refused to stay there for more than one night at a time.

I'd lost part of Frank in exchange for part doctor, part laundrette worker and part taxi driver. I had a multi-rolling partner and I was genuinely surprised that he wasn't ill himself with the amount of work he was doing and stress he was under.

The movie came to an end and Frank turned his head to look at me, his cheeks flushed when he realised that I'd been watching him rather than the TV for the duration of the movie.

"You still look pale." He frowned a little, his hazel eyes scanned my face.

"I've pretty much established that my colour isn't going to come back anytime soon."

I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. He said this on a regular basis and I was finding it hard not to find it annoying, my skin was already pale to begin with but now it just looked worse. Frank simply ignored my comment.

"You coming to bed?"

"I'm not tired." I had other things planned. Take that statement how you want, you were probably right the first time round.

Frank shrugged, assuming I was staying downstairs and headed for the door. I stood up and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind.

"Gee, what are you-" He stopped to let out a soft groan when my lips pressed to his neck, his jaw, before I sucked gently at his ear. His hands rested over my arms and his eyes fluttered open. A brief, lazy smile flitted across his face.

I automatically took that as a form of an "okay" and let him go, tugging him gently upstairs. The bedroom door closed. Hands wandered. Shirts were slowly removed. I pushed him down gently onto the bed and fiddled with the button on his jeans. His erection grew beneath my touch and I could only smirk as I removed his jeans.

Frank let out a soft whimper every time our skin touched. I wriggled out of my own jeans, both of us now in just our underwear. My arms slipped beneath Frank and I pulled him up slowly, chests pressed against chests. Kisses were trailed along his collarbones, his neck. Frank groaned low from the back of his throat. His lips met the hollow of my neck gently and I couldn't help but exchange the same, low groan.

There was one thing I wanted to do that night and it wasn't just making out, that's for sure.

Our lips met. Eyes were closed but as soon as my hand slipped into his boxers, I was screwed. (And I don't mean sexually, either).

Frank shoved me off by my chest and I fell onto the opposite end of the bed. I wasn't really sure where or what the problem was.

"I don't want to." Frank mumbled, suddenly interested in his hands.

I played dumb just to get a straight answer. "You don't want to, what?"

"This. Sex. Just, no. I can't."

"Aw c'mon, Frank! Did I do something wrong?"

The look on Frank's face was something unreadable. He looked like he was about to explode.

"Why do you always assume something's wrong when I don't want to have sex? Do you know how annoying that is?!"

I won't lie, this had happened numerous times before. So he had every right to be mad. But for the life of me, I can't tell you why I always assumed it was my fault. Something just snapped in my brain and once the thought was in my head, there was no turning back.

"I'm sorry, I just thought-"

"That we could have sex. Yeah, I got that." Frank retorted.

"Yeah, I did! So fucking what? I've missed you, Frank, you know that?" I didn't mean to raise my voice but I just couldn't help it.

"How can you miss me when I've been here the whole time?!" Frank began aggressively pulling his clothes back on, starting by yanking his shirt over his head. He reached for his pyjama pants and wriggled into them.

"Maybe in person you have but you're not the same Frank you were a few months ago! You're constantly working like it's the only thing you have to do! I miss seeing you laugh because you tell me, Iero, when was the last time you genuinely smiled?!"

Frank spun around on his heel from where he was finding out spare blankets from a draw.

"I'm working for you! I'm doing all of this for you Gerard! Don't you dare accuse me of not being the same me when I've had no choice but to change!"

I could have replied to that, there was plenty I could have said but he didn't give me the chance. He bundled a few blankets under his arm, grabbed a pillow from the bed and stormed downstairs to sleep on the sofa. The bed suddenly felt really empty and it's safe to say I didn't have an incident in my boxers anymore. I came to realise that I was still only wearing my boxers and sighed, getting up to find a shirt to wear. I'd really screwed up this time. You can't exactly blame me, right? You can see my point, right?

Anyway, I climbed back I to bed and sighed heavily, pulling the covers up to my neck, attempting to fall asleep. I say attempting...

"Gerard!"

I woke up to Frank shaking me violently, the bed sheets and my pyjamas were drenched In sweat. I was coughing do hard that- my hand covered my mouth and there was blood all over my hand. My chest was heavy and is was doubled over in pain. Frank tried to make an attempt at cleaning my face while holding a cold, damp cloth to my head.

The worts part of all of this was the fact I still didn't know what was wrong with me. Frank knew. Obviously the hospital knew so why the hell did I not know?!

"Frank-" I managed before doing my best to get out of bed. I was going to throw up.

He let me move and I fell to my knees on the bathroom floor, head down the toilet, throwing up. Blood too. And so, with the force of it all, my nose began to bleed. I'd say eventually it stopped and I felt a little better but that wasn't exactly the case. I mean, the throwing up did stop and so did the nosebleed but I felt no better for it.

Cookie came padding in and it's kinda cute yet kinda weird that she tugged the towel from the side of the bath and dropped it in my lap so I could clean myself up. I put it down to the fact she was just a smart dog, not that fact that Frank had trained her which is what I originally thought. She curled up beside me and I ran my fingers through her fur, sitting back against the bath. I wanted to call for Frank but I hadn't the energy. My head was light and my chest was still just as heavy.

I cried. That's all I could do and just about had the energy for. I buried my face in my hands and sat helplessly. Let's face it, I was pretty helpless. I could barely do anything on my own now.

Frank came in and sat the opposite side of me and cradled me in his lap. I enjoyed the silence while it lasted. The only reason it was eventually broken was because I got up to continue to throw up. Frank got up and ran I to the bedroom for his phone. I heard him call for an ambulance. In all honesty, the last place I wanted to go was the hospital but I couldn't be bothered to complain.

Don't ask me how long I'd been out of it but I was already desperate for my own bed back. If I remember rightly, I had something called Haemoptysis. That's what I'd overheard briefly from one of the doctors, anyway. Apparently they'd had to find out if this shit load of blood was actually coming from my lungs no or not before clarifying that it was. But that wasn't the worst of it. Oh no. I'll be brutally honest, I already said I wanted my own bed back but I certainly didn't want Frank, that's for sure. You see, a lot can be overheard when you pretend to be unconscious and eavesdropping was something is as getting good at.

The door opened. I was actually, properly awake by now. Frank smiled and came and sat in the chair beside my bed. He shouldn't have been smiling. That was the last thing I felt like doing. How dare he. Oh he was in for it when he found out that I knew what was wrong with me. I don't think I can remember another time where I was this angry. Even being denied sex never made me this angry.

"Feeling better?" He asked all too innocently.

Like hell was I feeling better! If anything I felt worse! I kind of grunted in response.

"Why don't you go back to sleep?"

I shook my head. I wasn't tired. Instead, I cleared my throat and actually turned my head to face him rather than staring up at the ceiling.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I guess I was meant to snap but my throat was too sore and dry so it sounded like a feeble attempt to be angry.

"Tell you what?" Frank raised an eyebrow.

"You know full well what I'm talking about." I scowled. If my voice was going to fail me then facial expressions would have to do.

"Do I?"

"I'm dying, Frank. I'm dying and it didn't once occur to you that it would have been a good idea to tell me that is sick. Jesus Christ, I have cancer! I have lung cancer and you wouldn't tell me?! Did you not think that the reason why I've been crying too much, refusing hospital trips, kicking up huge ordeals was all because I was frightened?! Because I was desperate to find out what was wrong with me?!"

Frank just started at me. He wasn't sure how to respond. I took a few moments before he clasped his hands in his lap and took a few deep breaths.

"I didn't want you to over react and get too upset." He muttered.

"Over react?" I scoffed. "Get too upset? What do you think I'm doing now?! When were you going to tell me, Frank? When?"

He didn't reply.

"Or were you going to leave it till my last few moments?"

"Don't talk like that!" His head shot up and cheeks were pink with tears.

"Like what?!"

"Like you're going to die!"

"I AM GOING TO DIE! It's been too long now for them to even try and fix me! I'm not stupid! It's been too long that I haven't known what I have! Sure, I could have guessed but I needed an answer and you'd never tell me! So I had to wait to overhear the doctor's conversation with you. Even he said I'm past the point of being cured!"

"Gerard, please! I just wanted-"

"Get out."

"Gerard!"

"Get. out."

Frank got up and left the room. I felt like shit, probably looked like shit but I really didn't care. I thought he loved me. Well, obviously not.