Antichrist (Frerard)

24: Drama In The Homosexual Vampire Community

Frank was fucking tired: it was barely five in the morning, and not only was Frank awake, he hadn't even gone to sleep in the first place.

He had needed some time to himself to think, and it soon became painfully apparent that the aforementioned time had soon grown from a few minutes into a few hours, and maybe, Frank Iero didn't care nearly as much as he should have done.

The park was nice this early: quiet and almost devoid of all life itself, and Frank kind of needed the peace that brought him, because with what Bert had told him earlier- well, hours ago now, he needed to finally get his head to stop spinning, and start making some sense of anything at all.

Because everything was clouded and fucked up and torn with his hatred for Gerard: the lies and the murders and the mess and the fucking, and everything and how that still all meant far much more than it ever should, and then the fear - the absolute fear of truly losing the one person he was supposed to despise with everything he had.

It was ridiculous, and almost as if Frank's head was screwed on backwards, or simply not there at all, or something, which really probably even would have helped him here, because this was simply a battle of his heart and his head, and there seemed to be absolutely no hope for either of the two winning, and holy fuck, Frank hated nothing like he hated this limbo, and this nothingness, this emptiness, this headache.

Alone was good, but not now, fuck, right now, Frank needed someone more than ever, but what he really needed above all, was the guts to actually admit that to himself - never mind someone else, because that seemed like nothing more than a pipedream at this point, and it looked an awful lot like it was going to stay that way.

But then, Frank almost jumped out of his own skin as someone sat down beside him on the bench. 

"Frank." It only took one fucking word - the call of his name, for the nineteen year old to know everything about who he was dealing with here, because the stranger sat beside him wasn't a stranger at all, but god, Frank would have given anything for the person beside him to have been a stranger all along.

"Alex- fuck, I-" And as usual, Alex cut him off before he barely got a few words through his lips, leaving Frank wide eyed and utterly dumbstruck as to how Alex had made his way from New York and right onto this fucking bench in this fucking park with Frank fucking Iero, because just like this, with one word from him, memory of Alex had faded away as he stopped being unimportant and distant, and became far more real than Frank would ever care to admit, because if there was anything that Frank Iero wanted, it was for this whole fucking mess just to fade right away.

"I'm here to see you, Frank, not to fuck your life up - stop looking at me like you're scared of me, stop looking at me like you hate me... stop hating me. I'm your best friend, you care about me, don't you, Frankie?" Alex sighed out, grabbing Frank's hand as he spoke. "Come on, I know you do, even if you're back with Gerard, you still care."

"I'm not with Gerard." Frank snapped, and perhaps with just too much vigour, because maybe Frank was putting entirely too much effort into hating Gerard Way, because maybe, it was so fucking hard that Frank would even consider calling such a thing impossible.

"Oh, well, that's... unfortunate." Alex raised his eyebrows before turning away slightly and setting his gaze upon the horizon. "Tell me about it - what happened between the two of you?"

"We just... we just... I..." Frank stuttered, tripping over his words as he soon came to realise that there was no easy, simple way to convey the fact that Gerard Way had killed his parents and lied about everything to Frank from day one, and still, Frank was awkwardly and reluctantly in love with him, despite the fact that he'd never even consider admitting such a thing, even if it was the most obvious of truths.