Smoke. |Frerard|

Smoke.

Frank Iero had always been someone who found his escape in the rolled up pieces of paper that society called cigarettes. He'd been smoking since around 15, the period of time when everything and anything decided that they were going to pummel Frank's self-esteem into the ground. His shoulders were constantly holding tension, constantly feeling like he would be better off alone. He enjoyed staying inside more, only going outside to go for a quick walk throughout the neighborhood. The people of Cemetery Drive were always in awe when Frank would be seen on a leisurely stroll, even though Frank knew it was never leisurely.

Frank's mind was always yelling at him different things. Not many of them were good and confidence building, most quite the opposite. Before the smoking habit, he didn't have any way to dull those voices, those screaming, always taunting voices. Eventually, he'd found a strange looking guy standing outside the counseling building, and he'd been nice enough to give him a free smoke.

His name was Gerard, Gerard Way. Now, he was a masochist who had no hope for life. He was a person who was dragged down by depression, his only true passions being art and music. Well, that was before the small man came around, his face holding a frown as he kicked at the small rocks on the cement. Gerard was leaning against the edge of the worn brick wall, one hand in his pocket as the other held a cigarette to his lips. The boy only noticed someone else was there when Gerard exhaled the smoke. He only told him a few words, waiting for the young man's response.

"Want a smoke?"

It took a few moments for him to respond, the boy eventually nodding and taking an extra smoke from Gerard's hand. Gerard helped to light it for him, as it was obvious that it was his first time. The boy followed Gerard's movements the first time, then getting the hang of it and beginning to find his own pace. After all, Gerard was obviously an expert.

"So," Gerard asked after a few minutes of pure and blissful silence, "What's your name?"

"Frank, Frank Iero. You?"

"Gerard Way. First time smoking?" He asked another question, and Frank simply nodded but not saying anything else.

Eventually, Frank and Gerard decided that they liked each other's company, their feelings becoming more relaxed and personalities more open, so they made the decision to head for coffee. Gerard loved coffee, which was something Frank soon found out. He also found out that Gerard had one brother, whose name was Mikey, and he had asthma, and all about how he hated his therapists and how Gerard thought it was stupid and pointless. He learned all about Gerard's passion for drawing and how he took his sketchbook everywhere( He even got to see some of his drawings), and how his idol will forever be David Bowie. Gerard had such a passion for music, but he was still very insecure about his voice, but Frank understood that.

Gerard, on the other hand, learned a lot about Frank. How he loved guitar, and wanted to own at least eight dogs. Frank loved to take pictures, and he loved the MisFits with all his soul. It was the same feeling that he had with his grandfather. Frankie, as he'd given the permission to call him, was a tattoo loving person, and his arms and hips were covered with them. Gerard had no problem with that, he'd actually wanted tattoos if it wasn't for his fear of needles. Frank was also super enthusiastic when it came to the state, as he was a pure New Jerseyan, and would probably fight anyone on the spot if they insulted his home state. Gerard laughed a lot at the statement, beginning to tease him. It didn't work, Frank was already on board with it.

Eventually, the boys decided it was time that they do something about their new found love for each other, and after a month decided that it was time for them to become official.

--

Three months. That's all it took. Neither of them were ready for the news, but neither of them had an actual choice in the matter. There was nothing that could be done, but there was one thing that could at least ease some of the pain. All the doctor told them was that Gerard had lung cancer, and it was too far along for him to be able to be saved. They were told that they had to wrap everything up in a matter of about 11 days. The worst part was, no one knew where to even start.

They sat on the couch, both of the boys curled underneath a blanket. The movie was on quietly in the background, but their minds were in a different place as it drowned out the movie. It probably wasn't interesting anyway, they'd seen all the movies in that house a billion times each. Frank sat, rubbing Gerard's forearm as Gerard curled up against him, his face blank as Frank leaned down and kissed the top of his head. The spent days like this, just falling asleep on the couch in the same position. Therapy was of no use to either anymore, especially when one of them was going to die in a matter of days.

One day, a dark and gloomy day as the rain fell outside, Frank sat on the same couch, but he was alone. Alone for the first time in three months. The blanket was still draped over him, sure, but his arms felt empty. There was no Gerard to hold in his arms and tell him everything that he wanted to. Eventually, Frank was forced to drag himself off of the couch, a ring of the doorbell being the cause. He wasn't originally going to open the door, but this person—whoever it was— wasn't going away anytime soon. Besides, Frank needed the movement, his legs were falling asleep.

As he opened the door, he recognized the boots right away. He recognized the jeans, the jacket, the glasses. It was someone who he'd seen a few times, but knew all too well. It was Mikey. Gerard's brother was here, but he shouldn't be. He should be at home, grieving over his brother. Yet, he wrapped the shorter man in his arms, squeezing as both men began to sob once again. When they did pull away from the other and the tears stopped flowing, Mikey fiddled with his jacket pockets as Frank wiped at his eyes.

"He wanted me to give this to you," Mikey said quietly, the door shutting behind him as the rain pounded on the window pane. Frank stared down at the envelope in his hand, not sure if he wanted to take it. Mikey extended his arm further, and Frank eventually grabbed it and locked his eyes on the writing. The writing style was cursive, a format that Frank had grown accustomed to reading with Gerard. He couldn't open the note slow enough, though Mikey's intense stare made Frank want to throw the piece of paper at him.

The note read:

Dear Frankie,

I'm sorry for everything, I didn't mean for it to come to this, I don't want to leave you like this. I hope you're doing okay. I know by the time that Mikey gives this to you, I'll be gone, but I'm really not. I promise I'm still with you, and you'll always have the memories. I miss having fun with you, and I'm sorry I dragged you down.

I've already told Mikey to call my Aunt Marie. I want to be buried in my favorite colors, but Mikey and yourself are in charge of my stuff. Only you two. Also, Frankie, I really love you. There aren't any words for me to say on how much I appreciate you staying right by my side. You could've left me and not had to deal with this much pain, but you didn't. And I wish you did. I don't like causing you pain, it hurts to see you like this. It's all my fault that this ending is mine, so I hope you don't blame yourself for any of this.

I wish I could've married you someday. But, please, live your life. Don't allow me to drag you down in death, too. And, take care of Mikey. I love him. Sweetest little dude. Make sure he lives a good life, and get him help.

I love you so, so much. The hardest part of all of this was leaving you, Frankie. See you later, but hopefully not too soon.

XOXO,
G

Frank was already in tears after reading the first line. He missed Gerard so much, and Mikey did too, but he had a job to do, and he wasn't going to let him down. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.