18th Floor Balcony (Frerard)

Chapter Two: It Was A Lie When They Said You Won't Feel A Thing

In the living room, Gerard sat in his mechanical wheelchair, watching reruns of some sitcom he was paying almost no attention to. When he heard the front door open, he turned around in the chair to see his new poor soul that's here to take care of him, only to have his jaw drop to the ground when he got a good look at who it was--Frank fucking Iero.

"F-frank?" he gasped.

Frank didn't know what to say. He just stood there, stunned to see the same awkward, artsy punk kid now in a wheelchair, his body slowly deteriorating from a terminal and fatal disease. This is the same exact guy he went to highschool with, and he has changed...a lot. Frank knew he couldn't let himself get carried away with his own dismay and shock for his old friend, though. He's got a patient to take care of.

"Hey, Gerard. Been awhile, hasn't it? You...," Frank stopped as he was about to say that the young man looked good, but that would be so wrong to say...still he did not look bad, though....Oh, fuck it. "...look good. How have you been?"

"Uh, well...I-I can't say I look the greatest...b-but thank you," Gerard stuttered, still unable to shake the fact that his best friend from highschool is standing right in front of him. It's like something straight out of a strange dream, and he's waiting for the moment to wake up back in his hospital bed with his breakfast at his bedside. "And...well, I can't say I've been all that great, either. Been better, been worse. How are you?"

"I'm alright," Frank shrugged. "I mean, it's been rough since dad died of cancer, but...I get by with my grandma's help, y'know?"

"Oh...I'm so sorry," Gerard said, a part of him deep down envying Frank's late father. Why did someone like him get to die while a miserable quadriplegic fuck like Gerard has to keep going on and on, suffering every waking hour of his life?

"It's alright. I mean, we had lost contact by then, but I still appreciate the sentiment. What about your parents, Gee?" Frank asked, curious of what the agency dared not to tell him about Gerard's "personal life". "Umm...I was told that you had no family other than Mikey. Did you...like, lose them like I lost my dad?"

"No, Frankie...," he nodded, feeling his insides turn to jelly, as well as his stiff body tremble with rage at the thought of his cheater of a father. "I still have my mom, but...I lost my dad. He...he was a filthy cheater. He left mom for a younger woman. He left us not long after I was first diagnosed,"

"Oh wow, Gee...I'm so sorry," Frank frowned. "I never thought that Don was that type of guy. How did your mom take it?"

"Oh, Donna was a mess. I find it hard to believe she's over it, despite her telling me she truly is...and I'm pretty sure you knew damn well how overbearing she was, right? Well, ever since dad left...she's gotten worse...much, much worse, especially with babying me all because of me being a fucking cripple,"

"Wait...I'm confused," Frank said, furrowing his brow in bewilderment. "If you have Mikey and you have your mom...why do you need me? Not that I don't want to be here. Hell, this beats taking care of some old stranger, and at least I've seen your pale ass when we used to go skinny dipping in the summertime,"

"You've got that right," Gerard laughed dryly, looking back at the fond memories of him and Frank fucking around. "It's just that...my mom couldn't handle taking care of me anymore. She's an old lady with a bad back, so after she stopped caring for me, she helped us get our own place and Mikey started to take care of me instead. But now...I'm declining. I need more help, unfortunately. Just waiting until I finally drop dead, really,"

"Damn Gee, that's no way to talk! You got to make the best of what you have--"

"How can I? I'm just a dependent, immobile sack of shit that's just gonna get sicker!" Gerard exclaimed, shaking a little in the seat of his wheelchair. His eyes suddenly widened, knowing that upsetting his new caregiver is a bad idea. "I...I'm sorry, Frank. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It's just hard sometimes...,"