Welcome to the Pride Parade [Frerard AU]

Part II: Chapter 2

          

CHAPTER 2 – LITHIUM

I'd been finding myself with these extreme urges to draw different things lately, and I certainly wasn't complaining. Motivation was motivation and I was constantly in need of it if I ever wanted to be productive.

Recently I'd been working on a cartoon of me and Frank – still on that new-relationship high, I guess – and it was turning out better than I thought it would. In the picture we were dressed formally, him in a necktie and me in a bow tie. I hadn't gotten very far at all, still sort of deciding what I wanted to do with it.

I began tracing over Frank's arm, having him reach up to straighten his tie as he always did.

That was all I got to do before my phone vibrated again. Wow, were these people social. I glanced down at it.

Private Message from Frank Iero: Okay I don't know how else to put this other than that I'm actually really upset and need to vent and I figure you're the only one who cares because on Friday I...

The message cut off there. I opened it to read the rest.

From Frank Iero: Okay I don't know how else to put this other than that I'm actually really upset and need to vent and I figure you're the only one who cares because on Friday I went to therapy and because I tried to off myself a few weeks ago they figured my meds weren't working well enough, which makes sense, just change the prescription or up the dosage. Should be fine. But then the ENTIRE day my parents kept complaining about how I should get over myself and they seem to think they're wasting their time and money on medication just because I'm a Moody Teenager or whatever and they seem to think by going to therapy I'm giving up, and by getting a fucking diagnosis I'm making an excuse for myself to not be perfect and ??? I'm getting help for a disorder??? I don't know it just really pissed me off and I don't know why I'm telling you this it's not like you can do anything about it but I just hate my parents and they have to understand - they HAVE to understand - that they are part of the reason we're going through this at all

I had not been expecting a novel of a text.

I drafted a response.

Frank that's way intense, I'm so sorry they're like that. You know you're doing your best and you're right, you're getting help, so really they don't have anything to complain about!

I deleted the second sentence and tried another one.

You're doing what you need to do to stay healthy so really they don't have the right to complain about the cost!

I paused, the cursor blinking impatiently at me. I wanted him to know people still cared because, despite the fact he said he didn't know why he was telling me this, if his own parents were treating him badly just for having depression – which he certainly didn't volunteer to have – who else was there to tell him they cared? I guess he picked me of everyone to clarify.

That meant there was a correct answer to this and it wasn't just a vent to be ignored. He could have just written it down on paper and then torn it up, but instead he told me. So I had to be there for him.

That was a lot of pressure to put on one text.

I scrolled back up to reread his message to me, finding specific pieces to address and patching together what I judged as a decent response. I prayed I wouldn't accidentally say something that came across as insensitive or ignorant and sent the message before I could second guess myself again. It was just the start of a conversation, so there was nothing to worry about. Right?

From Gerard Way: holy shit frank that's intense, I'm so sorry they're like that. You're doing what you need to do to stay healthy so really they don't have the right to complain about the cost! Maybe I can't do anything about it but I can at least make sure you know that your parents must at least care a little bit, because as reluctant as they seem to be, they are putting you through therapy and they are getting you the meds you need. I'm definitely not defending how they're acting but just something to consider