Fic: "Through These Years"
Title: Through These Years, ~9k
Characters: MCR: Frank/Gerard; Michael Pedicone
Summary: Frank and Gerard started as friends, then became lovers and, through these years, they've known each other like no one else. In the end, there will be much more than love between them. However, only one of them will live long enough to realize that.
Warnings: character death, mild angst, heart diseases; mentions Vietnam but not in detail.
Author's Notes:
1) Story for christmasbang! Thank you mods for the opportunity.
2) THANK YOU kuriositet for betaing.
3) THANK YOU chibifukurou for doing art for me.
4) This story was inspired by The Years of Arc, an old story a friend sent me over e-mail. Only the main structure of both stories is similar, though.
5) There's an alternate ending linked at the end of the story. Read it at your own risk.
Through These Years
by happilyappled
Art by chibifukurou
20 December 1967.
Frank's running as fast as he can. His legs are short and his breathing is labored, but he's still trying his best. He wants to get there as soon as possible. Usually the mailman is the first one to knock on the Ways' house, then Frank comes right after, sometimes the mailman hasn't even left their porch. Today, though, Frank's running late.
He got sick just a few days ago, but nothing he isn't used to. Every year, November brings the cold and a cough to Frank's lungs. It's mathematic. Sometimes it goes away in a few days and doesn't return until January; other years - like this one - it just stays and bothers Frank until he's out of patience to stay in bed.
The persistence that his cough has had this year might be related to how Frank's been running to the Ways' house every morning, running because tomorrow it might be too late. He goes there to see if the mailman brings any telegram from his best friend, Gerard Way. They went to school together once, then Gerard turned eighteen and was forced to join the Army. Every eighteen-year-old male has to join the Army, with that war going on on the other side of the planet.
Today, the mailman is just leaving, rushed. "Hello, son! It's your lucky day," he says. Frank waves him off with one hand and runs up to the Ways porch.
The door is open and Frank invites himself in. In the foyer, there's Mama Way with tears in her eyes and something in her hands. It's white and looks like paper, so Frank is hopeful that it's something from Gerard.
Little Mikeyway is by her side, jumping around her and exclaiming, "Gee wrote! Gee wrote!" Frank feels sorry for this kid. He's only six years old and has to deal with his brother's absence already. It must be so heartbreaking for him, as it is for Frank - and Frank is seventeen! He still smiles at the simplicity of Mikey's enthusiasm at having finally received something from Vietnam, from Gerard.
"Good morning, mama," Frank greets, courteously and bows in front of Mama Way. The friendly nicknames are very common in between the Way and the Iero families. They do live in a small town and are very close to each other, and Frank has always been forbidden of calling Gerard and Mikey’s mother by her name or "Mrs. Way". Mama is personal.
Mikey giggles and she follows, smiling fondly at Frank before stating, "I don't think I can read this."
Last year, fresh in his eighteens, Gerard was taken to do the Army Tests. He passed and was immediately recruited to join the forces. It took a year in training camp before he could actually leave the country and the letters were frequent for those twelve months; the camp was right in New York, so writing was easier. Now, Gerard's fighting with more troops in Vietnam and Frank is left running every day to his house and waiting for any news. Gerard’s family is, too.
It's been six months since they last heard from Gerard, so this is certainly important for them. At the same time, it's scary, because no one has any idea what this telegram's about. Mama Way's holding it securely in her fists and rubs two papers together; so there's two telegrams? Frank's just eager to open them and read what they say, so he says, encouraging, "It must be good news, mama, if the mailman was allowed to deliver it."
"Gee wrote! Gee wrote!" Mikey keeps yelling around his mother's legs. He sounds so excited that it's killing Frank's nerves, deeply.
Mama Way smiles and nods, shifting the papers in her hands again and flicking them towards Frank. She says, "Could you open these, please? I'm too nervous."
"Of course." Frank speaks fast because he feels ready to open the telegrams. At the same time, though, he feels terrified. He has no idea what they say, but they're both from Gerard, so it means he's still out there somewhere thinking of them. At least, there's hope that Gerard's thinking about his family and about Frank.
He finally tears the telegram open, not exactly carefully, but still trying to not rip it in pieces. That's when Frank notices that his hands are shaking very hard. It's all the emotions building up, not having seen Gerard or heard from him in so long. It's been killing him every day, coming up to the Ways' house to find an empty mailbox and dealing with his mother's concern about his jogging every morning, out in the cold, when his lungs complain so much. Frank doesn't mind, though; he does it for Gerard and he loves that.
The first telegram, dated from five months ago, reads:
I have arrived. STOP. It's chaotic. STOP. I love you all. STOP. Wish I was home. STOP.
The second telegram, from three months ago, reads:
3 months. STOP. I'm scared. STOP. I miss Mikey so much. STOP. Miss you all. STOP. Wish I was home. STOP.
Frank reads them to himself, then out loud, trying to make the information sink in rather than complain about how short they are. It's true that they're telegrams and not really supposed to be long, but still; Frank expected more. Or maybe he just wanted more but couldn't get what he wanted. Sometimes the world did work against Frank's will.
Mama Way cries the whole time. Not having Gerard under her wings has always made her so worried, and Frank is aware of that. He manages to hug her, when he's finished with the letters.
Little Mikeyway is still jumping around, chanting, "Gee wrote! Gee wrote!"
**
21 December 1970.
Tonight, Frank has the radio on to hear the news. It's almost time for another news block. He hates that he likes to wait for it, though, but this station always says the names of the soldiers who die in combat that same day. It dedicates several minutes many times a day to inform the country about those names and, apparently, honor the men who died in Vietnam. Frank's always terrified that he's going to hear Gerard's name, but he can't stop himself from listening.
It's necessary, because every day that he doesn't hear Way, Gerard on the news block, it means that Gerard might write another telegram soon and tell them how scared he is of everything. Those telegrams are always short, especially short on information, but it's good to know that the words come from Gerard's mind. It's strangely comforting. Gerard's still out there, after all, how can that not be comforting for the family?
Frank's lost in his readings of Gerard's past telegrams when the signal comes. It's time for another news block. First, the newscasters inform their listeners about the attacks and retreats and possible war strategies that the troops use on the other side of the world, in a place Frank has only seen on a map. Then the time comes when the one man and the one woman take turns reading the soldiers' names.
They always do it alphabetically, spreading it out over the day, so it's only at night that Frank cares to worry about the names being announced. He holds his breath when they start on the V. Gerard's name might be revealed soon. For some reason, Frank's heart beats faster than usual today; he can't quite put his finger on the reason why, though. He just listens.
"Vaughn comma Keith. Vig comma Fredrick. Vorley comma David. Waller comma Jeffrey. Ward comma Raymond. Way-"
Frank inhales sharply. This is it. In a frame of second, Gerard's on the line.
"comma Francis. Wells comma Seymour…"
Frank exhales, relieved. It isn't time yet, so he leaves the radio on and focuses on getting paper and pen to write a Christmas letter. He's running to his father's office to get paper and a pen, then back to his bedroom. Tomorrow, the Army will accept families' letters to send to their soldiers, rather than just short telegrams. The letters can't have more than a hundred words, though, or won't be sent. The reason for that rule, Frank isn't aware of it, but he sits back down and writes this letter with confidence. He wants Gerard to know that everybody's thinking of him and missing him.
"Dear Gerard,
we miss you so much. Youve been away for too long and our hearts have been broken ever since. Your mother cant stop her tears every time no telegram comes and every time a telegram does come and I read it to her. Little Mikey keeps running around the house whenever we get-"
Frank stops. That information about Mama Way will only depress Gerard, so he starts over.
"Dear Gee,
we miss you every day. I still run to your house every morning to see if theres a telegram from you. Im still sick about that, but it doesnt get worse, so dont worry. Mama Way cries for you and thinks we miss it, but shes alright, just worried. Mikey is still himself, a happy child, who jumps around when theres a telegram. Mom and Dad send love. Me, I got refused as a recruit. The Army has access to my medical records and saw family's history and my own sickly past. They refused me. I can never be with you and fight this war, Im sorry. I'll love you from home. Wish you were home."
It exceeds the Army's word count limit and it's not that good of a letter. Frank huffs and starts over. After at least five different tries, Frank thinks he's got it right. He reads it to himself:
"Dear G,
merry Christmas. Your mother tried to write a letter, but cried the whole time. She says she loves you, though. I helped Mikey write his own, he was so amazing. As for myself, got the Army's reply and will not become a recruit. I was in my best condition but they have access to medical records, so I cannot join you, even though I'm old enough. I wanted to, but they forbid people who are 'under sickness risk'. I'm sorry we can't be together. I love you. And I miss you very much. Wish you were home.
Love, Frank Iero."
It's not something terrific or absolutely impeccable, but it shall be enough. He tells Gerard about the news from his own Army Tests, which he took two years ago and last year and this year, but always got refused. His medical record is filled with disease, Frank's perfectly aware of it, from all the viruses he incubated when he was young, and all the flus, and all the history of high blood pressure and heart attacks in his family.
He doesn't really want to go to war, of course not, he despises it and awaits the moment when the war sends Way, Gerard back to his family and to Frank himself. They're best friends, have been for a long time, ever since that day when Frank was ten years old and saved Gerard from being run over by a truck by riding his bike directly in front of him. That day marked the beginning of a beautiful friendship that hasn't ended yet, and it's been ten years now.
Frank wants Gerard back, but if he had to join the Army in order to be with him and take care of him, his fears and his mind while fighting this war, Frank would do it. He would sacrifice everything to be with Gerard and help him in everything he needed. That's the value of friendship for Frank and he preaches in its favor, rather than in favor of the war.
After being rejected, though, Frank can only keep writing telegrams to Gerard and reading the telegrams he gets from Gerard, even three or six months after they were sent. What matters is that Frank reads them and shares them with the Ways, leaving Mama Way still crying and Mikey still chanting around the room.
Today, though, with Christmas almost here, Frank writes a letter, writes the address he was given by the Army and seals the envelope. All he has to do now is wait for Gerard to get it.
---
Dear Sir, we're sorry to communicate that we will not be able to send your letter. It exceeds the one hundred words limit by two words.
**
22 December 1980.
At the age of thirty, Frank thinks his life is pretty much perfect. He has a job, a place to live in, a human shelter for every difficult moment and a living wish. There are only smiles and hope and vision in Frank's mind as he lives every day into the future. For once, he's not scared of what's to come, like he was in the past, when his best friend Gerard went to war and one day there was a telegram and the next he was MIA. Or when Gerard came back home wounded and not wanting to see Frank for whatever reason - Frank refused to hear what it was later, because he'd gladly forget those days of a horrid living. At the moment, that is all part of the past and details that Frank is willing to forgive and forget.
He's content enough to look forward to the future, now. He sleeps next to Gerard every night and wakes up to Gerard's gorgeous face every morning, not as friends anymore, the best part being the fact that they share the same routine and the same happiness. The awesome thing about doing it and feeling it and sharing it with Gerard is that it's his adolescent love that has lasted. And together they are free and pleased and thankful to look forward and accept whatever may come, whenever it comes.
---
Being thirty and running the biggest grocery store in town is the best because its success is everything Frank could ever dream of. It's a small town he lives in, not really in the countryside nor influenced by the city lights, and that's what is so great about it. The elders trust him, the products he sells and the quality of the service; they respect Frank's hard-working personality and dedicated spirit. The youngest like to visit too, because Frank always has a little sweet to enthuse their smiles and brighten their days. It's a place Frank loves to work at, where he sees everyone at least once a week, many people come every day, and it's all he can desire in his life.
Frank runs it with Gerard, of course, and together they invested a lot in it, but it's paying off in every way. They ride together every morning, on week days and Saturdays, and open the doors at exactly 8am. The first person to come in is the baker, distributing the day's bread, because many elders prefer to buy their morning bread in there rather than have it delievered at home before dawn and have it robbed before they get up - that has seriously happened more often than not. Those people come in not long after the baker leaves. It's the best way to see friendly people in the morning, because Frank and Gerard have a smile on their faces to whoever comes in.
At 9.30, their part-time employee comes in through the door, greeting everyone warmly. He's just a High School dropout, a very young fella with dark skin and tattoos called Mike - Pedicone, he prefers, who rarely gets a smile from Gerard. Frank laughs about it because he knows the cause for such odd animosity. So maybe Frank's guilty enough, as he accepts Pedicone's flirting and sometimes flirts back, but only when Gerard's around. Frank loves to play this game with him, because he knows Gerard's trying not to show any jealousy but rarely manages to keep it under control. Frank's just having fun with it and can only hope Pedicone feels the same way, but they talk about it sometimes and the kid doesn't seem to mind playing the game.
A little before 11am, Gerard leaves. Frank kisses him goodbye behind the counter, just a small peck and a grin because Gerard always tells him something about Pedicone and the flirting, something possessive; Frank thinks it's adorable. Then he lets Gerard go with his thoughts to work at his parents' Italian restaurant, Estasi, where he's the manager during lunch hours, until 3pm. During that time, the routine at the store is serene: the customers that come in and out, the occasional re-stocking, the small lunchboxes Frank and Pedicone brought in with them which they empty in the storage room, in turns, in case there's this or that customer.
Then by 2.30pm, Pedicone leaves and shares a joke with Frank about anything, leaving a good mood and a smiling boss behind. Frank's on his own from then on, until Gerard comes back, sometimes at 4pm if he comes directly from finishing up at the restaurant, sometimes after 6pm if Frank's mother needs him to run any errand for her. It happens and there's nothing to complain about because Frank's mother has helped them a lot, including taking them in into her house until they get financially stable enough to get their own place. Helping her out is a way to thank her for helping them so selflessly, now that she's a widow and a little sick.
The store closes to the public at 6.30pm and Frank always locks the door half an hour later, after having closed the register and organized the storage room for the next day. Gerard's always beside him, either telling him something about Estasi, or about his brother, or about the errands he had to run, but every winter day what he complains about is the cold. That's what happens today. Gerard's saying how windy it is, how cold his hands feel despite the gloves and how much time Frank's taking to lock the door. Frank laughs. "And we're not even going home yet!"
Gerard rolls his eyes when Frank turns to him, but lets Frank wrap his gloved hands around one elbow as they stroll towards where Gerard parked his motorcycle. It really is windy today, and they might get some snow by nighttime, according to the weather man, but Frank focuses on something else. It's their last day of work until next week, since they're never open for Christmas, and there's always a warm dinner waiting for them at home.
Frank looks forward to that, but first they have to face a fifteen minute ride on Gerard's motorbike. It's their transportation every day, because neither of them owns a car and Frank's mother's old compact died a few months back. This way they really have to face the rigorous winter, but it's something Frank's already used to. Gerard still complains about it, but Frank knows how much he hates the cold. It doesn't matter as soon as they spot their house - or Frank's mother's house - at a fair distance.
When they stop, Frank hops off and lets Gerard go park the bike in the small garage they managed to build next to the house last year. Meanwhile, he goes get the mail, which has been delivered after 4pm and, although Gerard could have picked it up earlier, this is their routine. Today, Frank is more than glad about it. He sees a letter he's been expecting for almost two months, even if it's addressed to Gerard. He grins and grasps the small amount of mail they have, moving towards the door and meeting Gerard halfway.
"No bills to pay, I presume?" Gerard asks. Frank looks up and he's smiling, fondly, his bright teeth showing. His question is as assertive as that because when there are any bills, Frank opens the letters before getting to the door. Frank smiles back and nods towards the entrance, waiting for Gerard to get the house keys and open the front door. It does not have a handle on the outside, they have to use a key. They could knock and wait for Frank's mother to open it, but it doesn't matter. It'd mean waiting a little more out in the cold, and Gerard likes to open the door for Frank. At least he always makes a huge deal out of it, acting all gentleman-like and taking Frank's coat. It happens very day, but Frank still giggles at his actions.
"Welcome home," Gerard says, courteously and grins. Inside, they settle in, silent, in front of the coat rack by the door. They take off their beanies and gloves and scarves, then their coats and jackets and put on warm hoodies, take off their shoes or boots and put on their slippers - and finally they're comfortable and at home.
The Christmas tree is there, in the living room, tall and grandiose, witnessing their arrival. It watches close when Frank pulls Gerard for a kiss. It's short and soft, a touch of lips and a bit of tongue, just something welcoming and gentle. It feels good every day and every day, Frank smiles as he pulls away. Gerard's right there, hands on his shoulders and a kind smile adorning his mouth.
Frank has often thought of how lucky he is to have such an amazing life, after a hard time struggling for Gerard and the return of his sanity. The war was awful to him and Gerard came back home completely scarred and speechless. It took him several years of a persisting, careful treatment, first with his family, then with a therapist he allowed in and then Frank. Together they've battled a long path to this stability they have now and Frank's proud of how strong they were and still are just for the fact of being a couple. To Frank, it's still pretty incredible what good feelings and a steady mind did to them.
Today, however, he doesn’t need to think about that. They're totally fine, both smiling, finally at home at the end of another day and the beginning of another night. Their band's putting up a show at the town's biggest club, The Mist, like they always do. They started as a group of friends in Middle School and emerged as a band years later, applauded quite loudly by the town's population - and the visitors that hang out at the club. Frank's actually excited about the show tonight, because there's this rumor that a major label has been hanging around the state listening to smallish bands and signing new contracts. He reminds Gerard of that and says, "It might be tonight, Gee."
"I know. It's been making me nervous for weeks," Gerard jokes, with a small laugh. Frank grins in agreement. Signing their small town band has been a dream of Frank's for years now and his heart beats harder than ever when he considers that and how close their chance might be. There is another dream yet to come true, which kind of still lies in his hand - he's still holding the mail, after all. Gerard pulls him out of that chain of thought, by saying, "We gotta have dinner first. C'mon."
Frank goes, as Gerard takes a firm hold of his empty hand and guides them to the left, to the kitchen. Frank's mother must be in there because the house is silent and there's a delicious scent in the air when Frank inhales. He calls out, "Ma, we're home!" just as they pass the door and she spots them, smiling.
"Hey Ma, it smells really good tonight," he hears Gerard greet his mother, pausing to kiss her cheek. Frank loves how they get along so great. Frank's an only child and the Way brothers have always been like sons to Frank's mother. That awesome bond between the two families still lasts, especially the respect Gerard and Mikey hold to their second mom. It has taught a lot to Frank, mainly in those occasions when the rebel kid in him failed to see how wonderful she is as a mother and a person in general. Frank loves her, though, and loves his great family that sticks together in every moment.
"French onion soup," she says, still smiling and waiting for Frank's greeting. He hugs her quickly; the usual. "It's almost ready, so if you please-"
"You got it." Frank's response is immediate. He puts the mail down on the counter and goes to get the soup bowls, Gerard's gone to get the spoons. Frank smiles when he sees that Gerard's spotted the mail lying there.
"What's in the mail today?" he asks, like he doesn't know. "I didn't even look at it properly."
When the table's ready, Gerard reaches out for it and looks closely. Frank looks up at his mother and winks; he couldn't have thought of this surprise Christmas gift by himself. Gerard certainly deserves more than the usual gifts and Frank knows this is very perfect. It's what Gerard always wanted. Frank looks back at Gerard and sees him putting away the three letters to his mother and focusing on the faded yellow envelope in his left hand. Frank's jumping on the inside. He's been expecting it for a long time, but it definitely has come in perfect timing.
"There's something for me," Gerard says, cryptically, twisting the envelope in his grasp. Before opening it, he adds, "It's from California."
Frank contains his grin somehow. Gerard's about to find if his prayers have been answered or not - Frank kind of knows they have, because otherwise the letter would have arrived much sooner or not at all. He waits as Gerard reads the letter. He looks really apprehensive and his skin turns a little pallid, too. Frank asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just-" Gerard gulps, puts the letter down and looks up at Frank. For a moment, only the boiling soup interrupts the silence, but a second later Gerard continues. "This is from that art school that I love, you know, the one in California that was advertised worldwide? It was all over the news months ago."
"Yes, I remember. You even sent your portfolio to them. I helped you write your motivation letter?" Frank says, trying to remain unsuspicious.
"Exactly, but that was over a year ago. I can't believe they just found my application. It's not possible," Gerard responds, frowning. Biting the inside of his cheek is the only thing Frank can do to not shout in Gerard's face that it's his fault; he sent another copy of Gerard's portfolio to California and his mother helped him write a letter telling the school how interested and hard-working and talented Gerard is in everything and especially in art. He smiles and sighs as soon as Gerard looks down again, looks at the letter.
"So, what, one year after I sent them my portfolio full of crappy superheroes and tiny storylines drawn in High School and themeless pictures of you from when we've lain in bed all lazy and comfortable, they want me and write back? I don't understand. It's been too long, they can't possibly be interested in me," Gerard finishes at last, sighing. His shoulders slump down and the frown on his forehead intensifies, which concerns Frank.
"What exactly does the letter say?" he intervenes, seeing his mother stirring the pan.
"They want me in their Exclusive Classes in the course of my choice, lectured from January to June, and," Gerard stops, his voice failing and his eyes trembling. Frank can see that when Gerard looks up. He seems honestly surprised and actually a little emotion. Frank smiles fondly and approaches Gerard, as he keeps talking. "And they want to give me a full scholarship for it."
"But that's so great! How can't you be happy? This has been your dream ever since you finished High School and started working at Estasi. You have a chance after all these years," Frank says to him, assertively. His heart's beating crazily, against his ribcage and in his mouth. Frank keeps it in, no matter what he knows. He's guilty as Hell, and wants Gerard to react differently. He had been expecting a little more enthusiasm for sure, something more personal and Gerard-like. He's just shocked and wide-eyed, frowning, when he should be yelling of joy and telling everyone he knows! Frank wants that, wants the gleeful laughs and the high squeals and the passionate hugs.
"It is great," Gerard starts, un-frowning his forehead and throwing his weight onto one hip. Frank sees the shift in his body. "I just don't understand why they took one year to respond. The letter is dated from two weeks ago, this is very recent. I don't get it. Hm. Unless-" He locks gazes with Frank, softly, wondering.
"This one's easy, Gerard," Frank's mother says as she turns off the stove. Frank looks at her and gives her a look, but she shrugs. Frank does so too and when he looks back at Gerard, there's a light in his eyes.
It looks like he's figured it out because his eyes widen even more and he goes, "Unless someone else reminded them about me, for some reason."
"Yeah, that sounds possible," Frank agrees, still not willing to just give in, but letting all the clues out. "Maybe as a Christmas present, who knows. We've got friends everywhere, maybe it's a groupie. Ma, you want any help?"
"Frank," he hears Gerard.
"What?" Frank says, still handing a bowl out to his mother to put soup in it.
"Frank, I'm talking to you," Gerard insists, his voice louder. Frank doesn't react, just looks at his mother and finds a smile gracing her features. He can't keep his in, though, and ends up grinning at her. Gerard talks again. "Did you do this?"
Frank turns to him, placing the full bowl on the table. "Why would I do such a thing?"
"Because you're you! And your mother's sly grin says enough, thank you very much. I know you both. Frank, look at me!"
Frank obeys, smiling. "Congratulations," he whispers while his mother laughs, and a bowl clinks against something. He also loops his arms around Gerard's waist, in a dancing move.
"You did this! Oh my God, you really did," Gerard exclaims. Frank nods and they hug, or crush each other. Frank's mother laughs again. Gerard squeezed Frank until the youngest can't take it and pulls away with a laugh. He's still grinning as Gerard asks, "Why'd you do this? Seriously. I thought you didn't want me to go because it's across the country!"
"It's still your dream, Gerard," Frank answers, honestly. He looks at the table and there are three bowls of soup on it already. They sit down after the lady of the house. Frank sets down to eat immediately; they can finish that conversation after dinner.
---
Already in the bedroom upstairs, as they get ready to leave, Gerard asks Frank about the faded yellow envelope again and Frank’s reasons to have sent another letter to that school. Frank responds, "Maybe I didn't like the idea when you first sent your portfolio, maybe I thanked God when there was no answer. Maybe I silently prayed every night that you didn't go away again, but then maybe I as wrong. I thought better. This is your dream. You couldn't afford it right after High School, but it's been many years of postponing it. Now the business is doing good, our band performs every night. We're stable and happy, so maybe you can finally pursue this career. You deserve this, Gee."
"But moving over there would mean-" Gerard starts, but interrupts himself. They're being honest with each other now and can't leave anything behind, so Frank waits patiently. It finally comes. "I know why you didn't want me to go before. I know and I understand. I love you. You love me. We have a lot in this town, as a couple."
"Absolutely, but it doesn't mean you have to give up everything for me, okay?" Frank says, smiling softly. He grasps Gerard's hand and sighs. "We've been living MY dream for so long, playing with our band at The Mist! I want you to do this, it's what you've always wanted. I can stay here for half a year, I can take care of the store and help out your dad at the restaurant any time he needs me, we'll tell the truth to our fans and we'll do something without you in town. Everything while you go attend your dream classes and get your dream knowledge."
"But there's other stuff," Gerard persists, speaking quickly like he means to say a lot more. Still, Frank doesn't let him. He squeezes Gerard's hand and says,
"We'll figure it out before you go, okay?" Gerard nods, smiling, and Frank grins at him, happy.
Gerard pulls on Frank's hand swiftly and Frank stumbles into his open arms. He smiles and looks at Gerard, who's grinning and soon pecking his lips. Frank lingers on that kiss before they leave for the club. Gerard pulls away and says, "If we didn't have a show to play, I'd thank you now. It was a huge Christmas present, you deserve something special."
Frank laughs, nervously. He gets the hint, and he would have even if Gerard hadn't added a small wink. He'll always get that kind of hints, seriously, so he says, "Don't worry. We don't have to get up early tomorrow!" And kisses Gerard hard in a mess of mouths and limbs and hearts.
**
23 December 1990.
Frank makes a gurgled sound and inhales desperately. It startles Gerard so much that he's standing by Frank's bed the next second. He can't help being edgy at the moment, with what this situation involves. It happened all of a sudden during what was supposedly one of the most beautiful moments between them. One minute Frank was arching under Gerard and moaning, the next Frank was laying motionless on the bed as Gerard called an ambulance on the bedroom phone. The sole image in Gerard's mind of Frank's rigid pose is agonizing, but the present sight isn't any better. Frank's face is pale and his hair's almost translucent. It's awfully incredible how someone as hopeful and vivid as Frank can look like that in a moment of agony.
Gerard pulls the chair closer and sits down again when there's silence again. This time he's as close to Frank as he can, moving Frank's hands to beneath the blanket. Then, he slides his own down there to clasp them around one of Frank's and it’s freezing. He sighs because there's nothing he can do at the moment, really, and it exasperates him. He wants Frank back in bed, arching up and moaning and feeling the pleasure of their sex, but what he gets instead is a Hospital room and trouble in his mind. It's not the Christmas he planned, no matter how vague their plans were besides Christmas dinner at Estasi and the gift exchange at Gerard's parents' house, with all the family together. It probably won't happen now. It's only tomorrow night, but it's almost out of Gerard's range. He feels bad to think that way, though.
Frank moans. Gerard looks up and analyses his figure. It's still not moving but the previous sounds are positive enough to him. They might mean Frank's gaining back his conscience, Frank's coming back to the world of the living, back to Gerard. The sound he just heard was weak and fragile, still not reassuring enough, but it's more than the silence of the last two hours. The sun's setting outside, Gerard notices the difference in the natural light through the window, although the sky isn't clear. It matches his insides, rainy and filled with worry. It's been like this for quite some time now, years actually, because Frank's malady isn't something new to them. Gerard wishes it wasn't even a reality. He wants Frank to be healthy and lively, despite his forty years of age. The number never meant a thing to him, because Gerard has been there before and made a huge deal out of it and Frank was always comforting and understanding and great at talking Gerard down. It's over now and it feels great to have made amends with their age, but nothing takes away this anguish.
Gerard shushes Frank when the next sound comes. "Easy, Frank, take it easy. You're okay now," he says smoothly, silk in his voice like Frank's always done to him when something bad happens. Like when Mikey crashed his car a couple of years ago, or when Gerard's father went to court under a false accusation of child abuse; every time something bad happens, Frank's there with a soft tone of voice and now it's his turn to be on the receiving end. Gerard loves to reciprocate all those things, because Frank's an amazing person and deserves only the best. Thinking about that, he squeezes Frank's fingers and places his forehead on Frank's covered forearm, secure and protective.
Frank moans again. It's less feeble, but more painful. When he inhales, there's a horrible scratchy sound that hangs in the air, a cat's purr that shouldn't be there. Frank sounds horrible, but Gerard knows the putting cats have been in Frank's lungs for almost a week; he's noticed the difficult breathing some nights in the bunks of beds. He looks horrible too and Gerard's all hopeless and helpless. All he can do - they can do - is wait for things to get better. Doctor Dewees, who Frank has been seeing since Gerard can remember, said that Frank's lucky, that they acted quick and probably saved him, so there's no reason to change now. Frank's luck will still be there in the end.
Gerard is still scared because Frank's ill and frail, and might never fully recover. The uncertainty of the future brings something else to Gerard's care, besides the worry: it brings a silent prayer. Gerard has learned to be a Catholic with Frank and studied the best prayers from Frank's mother's books; now he uses them all creatively and honestly. He's convinced that since God's doing this to them, then only God's power is great enough to undo it.
Frank inhales once more, the purr pronounced and loud, and Gerard looks up at his face. It's pale and inexpressive, but his eyes are open. Gerard murmurs his prayer loudly until it's over and moves his hand to grasp Frank's rosary; it lies beside the pillow. He puts it in between their joined hands and Frank squeezes the beads softly. It grazes Gerard's hand and another moan follows, something similar to a word but still undefined.
Gerard changes his Catholic murmurs to laic words. He says, "Calm down, Frank. It's me, I'm here with you. Don't panic, it's gonna be okay."
Frank inhales again and a lot of more sounds follow, some of them turning clear. "What-" Frank tries in a raspy voice, but seems unable to continue. When he coughs, the reason for it is pretty clear for it comes with fluids and mucus, and it makes Gerard even more worried. He lowers his mouth to Frank's ear the best he can in his sitting position and whispers, "It's alright, take your time. This isn't just a cold, Frank, but you'll be fine. The doctors'll save you and I'll help. So help me God."
Frank seems to smile and he also squeezes the rosary and Gerard's knuckles again. The next time he inhales, the exhales that follows brings a proper question: "What happened?"
Gerard gulps, remembering. "You had a heart attack."
Frank inhales, deeper and louder this time. He coughs too and it sounds painful, so Gerard stands from the chair and, with one knee on the Hospital bed, he lies his upper body next to Frank's and hums a melody into his ear. It's supposed to be soothing as the news kick in.
It's not like they haven't been aware of this possibility, due to Frank's family history and his own past, but it's always scary and uninvited. Just because Frank has always had trouble staying healthy during the cold season and had been saved from the horrids of war because of it, that doesn't mean they know what to expect all the time. Usually, the rain comes and causes a snotty nose, then the cold nights hit and bring a steady cough, and finally the snow falls and carries infections, or fluids, or fever, or many days in a row without getting out of bed. However, due to the history of heart diseases and high blood pressure in the Iero family, the worst case eventually arrived to Gerard and Frank's lives. Two grandparents have died of heart attack, one uncle has always suffered of a severe heart condition that limits him to living inside a sterilized room since he was twenty years old and Frank's mom has been having high blood pressure crisis for at least seven or eight years. However, Dr. Dewees advised Frank to take medical tests to evaluate his situation, but the results haven't a concern of the couple. Until now, that is.
"This isn't home," says Frank, weak as Gerard hates to see him. Whenever Frank gets sick, whatever the cause and the disease, Gerard can hardly stand the pain of looking at him. He's always pale and sad and barely alive, so of course Gerard doesn't like it, but he also knows he's one of the people Frank most likes to have beside him. And he's proud of it, nevertheless, never refusing to do it.
"No, you're at the Hospital. They've got you wired to control your heartbeat, to compare results and save you from another attack," Gerard explains very slowly. He can see that Frank starts moving around a lot, agitated, so his tone, words and caresses serve the purpose of calming Frank down. The increasing beeps on the monitor, though, make Gerard nervous and he squeezes Frank's hand beneath the blanket.
The minutes go by in their silence. Frank's eyes close again and the beeps accelerate even more, while Gerard tries his best to shush Frank into calmness again. He does so in whispers, yet it doesn't seem to work because Frank grasps and holds his chest filled with air, and his eyes are suddenly wide, and his mouth is suddenly open. Gerard panics, squeezes the hand and the beads of the rosary. Then there's a nurse beside Frank too, injecting something in the IV on Frank's arm; she checks his eyes, his mouth, neck and chest and a few seconds later, Frank calms down again. The beeping slows down to a steady rhythm and Frank's head lolls to the side. He's out again.
With a sigh, Gerard lowers his head to the bump their hands holding rosary form under the blanket and feels something in his eyes. It's probably tears because he's sad, he doesn't want this to happen, not when they've got a real band that tours across the country, playing in bigger clubs and halls; and when they've got a house that's really theirs where there's music and art and happiness; and when they've got people working for them and the store's expanded in size and success, following the natural growth of every town. Their life is so wonderful, they have each other and share so much, and this murmur in Frank's heart, diagnosed in '85 - it simply shouldn't intervene and put Frank in this misery.
Gerard stops thinking and focuses, sighing. He looks up and Frank's out, sleeping due to the medication the nurse brought earlier. Rubbing his eyes first, he lets go of Frank's hand to do the sign of the cross at his front and grasps the rosary tight, and then he starts murmuring and counting the beads. He counts randomly and speaks freely whenever he feels ready, a little relieved from the pressure of the previous scene and fully committed to this deity he has learned to trust. He mumbles his words, murmurs like Frank's heart somewhere inside him. Gerard focuses on that and prays to the Lord he deeply believes in.
**
24 December 2000.
The door opens and closes behind them. It's definitely warmer inside.
Frank's moan echoes in the empty house. It vibrates through the air, through Gerard too. He kisses Frank harder to get another moan, because Frank staying quiet is definitely impossible if he makes the right move. He also gropes Frank's crotch. Gerard knows everything's frantic and quick, but he's been waiting for hours now.
They're just coming home from dropping Frank's mother at home after the Christmas dinner at Mikey's newly decorated dining room. It was a simple family dinner with gift exchange included, the usual for many, many years. Gerard remembers being a kid and celebrating Christmas with the Ieros in his childhood house which was barely big enough to host them all, or going to the Ieros' house and learn more about guitar, or even going to his grandma's house and tell Frank all about the sculptures, the paintings, the piano and the videotapes. It's been an amazing ride, this life through all these years.
Today, they come back home again and it's peaceful, despite the kissing and the groping and the moaning. Gerard's just wanting and needy, not even thinking about how tired he feels. They stop for a minute to take off the scarves, beanies, gloves, coats and boots and let them fall to the floor. Gerard follows Frank to the living room but reminds himself to go back and lock the front door; they never take any risks with security.
Frank's laugh echoes in the empty house. "This house is deadly silent. I hate it," he says, later.
"Let's fill it with noises, yeah?" Gerard winks. He steps forward too, towards Frank and his lips and arms, but Frank moves faster and runs up the stairs. Gerard follows and catches him easily, Frank's never been much of a runner, and even if Gerard himself hates doing it, when it's for fun, he can easily catch and outdo Frank.
He gets to the bedroom door first and opens it quickly so that, when Frank gets there, Gerard just pulls him in and closes the door with Frank's body as they kiss. They're automatically glued together. It doesn't start slow. Gerard just goes for it, he kisses Heaven and Hell out of Frank and Frank totally complies. He's relaxed under Gerard's mouth and hands, which Gerard can't stop. They move on their own, almost. His arms get loose around Frank's torso, then Frank's hips and later his fingers wrap tight on Frank's flesh. And his tongue darts out and explores.
The kiss is fierce and hot. Gerard's hands move to Frank's shoulders and hair, pulling, causing moans and bringing Frank closer to the bed. Their lips battle easily, knowing it all by instinct. Gerard stumbles at some point and falls on his ass. He's on the edge of the bed; thankfully it's not on the floor, but Frank's laughs anyway. It does not echo this time. The bedroom is small and filled with them, with their presence and heat, simply lit by the light spilling from the street lamps through the wide open shades.
Frank takes a step closer and Gerard knows where this is going. That's why he makes a move that stops Frank in front of him. "Wait," he says, and gets up from the bed.
Gerard walks to the nightstand on the side of the bed that's closest to the window. Frank's side of the bed. There's a pitcher with water on the bedside table; Gerard fills a glass with it and takes the box of pills inside the single drawer. He places only one on his open palm and closes his hand, securely. The pills are part of Frank's medication and serve their purpose of controlling Frank's heart; they're pretty new after the last heart attack, six months ago, that scared Gerard to death and depression. Frank recovered and Gerard was thrilled, but he's still scared. The usual.
"I'm only supposed to take them before going to sleep," Frank whines, but gently. This isn't the first time Gerard's doing this before anything sexual happens on their bed, and he probably knows it won't be the last.
"I know, but I wanna play safe," answers Gerard, as honestly as he can. Then he adds, "Please," before sending Frank his serious gaze. It's the important one that neither of them should ever ignore.
"You always do this," Frank says.
"I always care."
Frank smiles gently after that line, as Gerard finally walks over to him to hand him the pill and the glass of water. Frank takes it all and swallows effortlessly, as he is so used to that routine already with daily meds to take every morning and every night. He's not a kid anymore, after all, and Gerard doesn't really understand how he can take so many and Gerard doesn't take any, even when he's older. Frank doesn't let him question it, though, claiming that health trouble was a part of his family history and there was no way around it. Gerard can't help it, though; he wonders why and talks himself down every time Frank gets weaker.
The worst of it are the dreams that leave him restless after he wakes up. They began after that last heart attack in June and remain horrible every night, always very creative. Some of them are colorful and undefined, but others and in black and white and revolve around Frank's death in different circumstances. It chums inside Gerard after he wakes up and makes him disgusted, cold and distant for a couple of hours. Gerard never told anyone about them, but might do so for New Year's Eve, since they always share, as a couple, what they consider the previous year's failures and the new year's resolutions.
"You're thinking about something," Frank interrupts his mind, handing him the glass bkac. Gerard walks back to the nightstand and puts it down where it belongs. He sighs, too, but forgets soon. This is not the time to dwell on all this; he's alone with Frank and they've been waiting for this moment for enough days now.
"Yeah, about what I wanna do to you," he says, unrevealing as he shakes the thoughts out of his head. He approaches and kisses Frank. It's honest and raw, strong enough to show all the care and affection that he feels every single moment of every day of his life.
He lays Frank properly on the bed, then rolls them over and lies on his back on the mountain of pillows at the top of the bed. He lies comfortably there and lets Frank lead the next kiss. It's beautiful to feel Frank there, hear Frank there, that kiss and the hums and his hands under Gerard's sweater, shirt and t-shirt, struggling for the touch of skin. Gerard easily grasps the hem of the sweater and sweatshirt Frank's wearing and pulls them off. The kiss stops until there's enough touch, and Frank's skin is definitely the right kind of warm to please Gerard. He presses Frank down against him and breathes hard, a drum in his chest. He also feels Frank's heartbeat when he mouths at Gerard's neck. Gerard moans softly.
"C'mon!" Frank pulls away and hums, willing. "I know how desperate you are, show it to me, Gee."
Gerard smiles warmly. Frank says that and knows it because he must be hungry too, after the last few weeks. It's been a month or so, after all, because December is always a crazy month, at the store, at the restaurant, on a tour, and there's barely time for intimacy. They don't even think about it because, at the end of every day, the feel of fresh sheets under their exhausted bodies leads to instantaneous sleep. It's irremediable. Which leaves the best part for after Christmas.
"It's been too fucking long," Frank interrupts again, mouthing at Gerard's earlobe, then jaw. He pulls back and starts unzipping his pants. Gerard moves quickly to help him.
They both get up on their knees in silence, not because it’s a routine like th rest of their days, but because these tiny moments before the sex are sacred and gorgeous. Gerard loves to watch Frank slide his boxers off with ease, but afterwards he fights hard with his own to take them off along with his pants. They're all tangled in his feet and it's driving him crazy tonight, which is not making anything easier. Gerard's cursing quietly at his own hands, but he's all shivers when Frank mouths at the back of his neck, helping him out because it's so disconcerting that his clothes finally slide down and fall on the floor.
He lies back down, naked, exposed, with Frank's mouth up his chest and Frank's arms sliding over his sides. They moan because that touch has been missed for too long. Gerard's spine arches up and follows Frank's mouth, but then Frank pulls back to kiss his lips again. They end up holding each other and moaning and kissing, a mindfuck kiss that makes Gerard dizzy and helpless. He's kind of squirming on the bed, under Frank, but nothing he isn't used to. Nothing he doesn't like. Frank's cock is perfect against him, hard and heavy, and hot, so much that Gerard doesn't know what to do with these feelings. It’s all too much for him to hold on.
He moans and hums and maybe shouts, but his mind's too blessed out to understand what happens next. It's all about feeling, there's no keeping it in, only pleasure rocking through every inch of him and he bucks up. Gerard's too desperate for this, but Frank kisses him and his mind comes back into place. He fists Frank's cock and moves fast, concentrated on producing an orgasm.
Frank stops him. Maybe Gerard whines. Frank says, "You don't have to do this, okay."
"But I want to. You can come first-"
"It doesn't matter. Just let it go, Gerard," Frank insists. Gerard knows what he's talking about.
He can't, though. "I can't, it's too-"
"I know what you're thinking," Frank intervenes assertively. His eyes are diamonds against Gerard's, brilliant and strong and unbreakable. "But don't- I'm not gonna die tonight."
He just kisses Gerard. Gerard lets himself be kissed, too, slow and passionate. That simple line made it for him, honestly. His heart's in this moment like always, but as every night there's a pinch of fear outlining it. He can't avoid it. Giving Frank that pill reminds him of his frail condition, but never stops him. He wants to be intimate and passionate and forget all things when he's with Frank, but at the same time he can't - there's too much at stake.
For now, though, because Frank requested so honestly and exposed Gerard's biggest fear into the bedroom air, Gerard concedes. He lets Frank lead him and soon he's melting under Frank's doing because he is Gerard's undoing. Gerard comes hard and fast on their duvet.
He jerks Frank off later, and Frank looks hot sweaty gorgeous. They lie limp and exhausted in their afterglow and yes, Frank is still very much alive. Gerard grins at him and holds him close, thankful. There can't be a better way to spend Christmas night.
**
25 December 2002.
"It was a beautiful service," Frank's mother whispers in his ear, by the altar, her voice trembling. Gerard nods against her head, next to his, in that warm embrace. She's been holding on as Gerard never thought she could, at the age of sixty eight, even one year later.
These past twelve months have been very difficult to him. Living in a house all alone when it's full of memories, it hurts deep into his core. He doesn't remember much of it, but the confusion, the hurt and the empty space in his bed is still present.
Frank has been gone for a whole year and his memory will never fade. Gerard wishes so.
~the end~
"Through These Years" - alternate ending: 1,000 words.
Characters: MCR: Frank/Gerard; Michael Pedicone
Summary: Frank and Gerard started as friends, then became lovers and, through these years, they've known each other like no one else. In the end, there will be much more than love between them. However, only one of them will live long enough to realize that.
Warnings: character death, mild angst, heart diseases; mentions Vietnam but not in detail.
Author's Notes:
1) Story for christmasbang! Thank you mods for the opportunity.
2) THANK YOU kuriositet for betaing.
3) THANK YOU chibifukurou for doing art for me.
4) This story was inspired by The Years of Arc, an old story a friend sent me over e-mail. Only the main structure of both stories is similar, though.
5) There's an alternate ending linked at the end of the story. Read it at your own risk.
Through These Years
by happilyappled
Art by chibifukurou
20 December 1967.
Frank's running as fast as he can. His legs are short and his breathing is labored, but he's still trying his best. He wants to get there as soon as possible. Usually the mailman is the first one to knock on the Ways' house, then Frank comes right after, sometimes the mailman hasn't even left their porch. Today, though, Frank's running late.
He got sick just a few days ago, but nothing he isn't used to. Every year, November brings the cold and a cough to Frank's lungs. It's mathematic. Sometimes it goes away in a few days and doesn't return until January; other years - like this one - it just stays and bothers Frank until he's out of patience to stay in bed.
The persistence that his cough has had this year might be related to how Frank's been running to the Ways' house every morning, running because tomorrow it might be too late. He goes there to see if the mailman brings any telegram from his best friend, Gerard Way. They went to school together once, then Gerard turned eighteen and was forced to join the Army. Every eighteen-year-old male has to join the Army, with that war going on on the other side of the planet.
Today, the mailman is just leaving, rushed. "Hello, son! It's your lucky day," he says. Frank waves him off with one hand and runs up to the Ways porch.
The door is open and Frank invites himself in. In the foyer, there's Mama Way with tears in her eyes and something in her hands. It's white and looks like paper, so Frank is hopeful that it's something from Gerard.
Little Mikeyway is by her side, jumping around her and exclaiming, "Gee wrote! Gee wrote!" Frank feels sorry for this kid. He's only six years old and has to deal with his brother's absence already. It must be so heartbreaking for him, as it is for Frank - and Frank is seventeen! He still smiles at the simplicity of Mikey's enthusiasm at having finally received something from Vietnam, from Gerard.
"Good morning, mama," Frank greets, courteously and bows in front of Mama Way. The friendly nicknames are very common in between the Way and the Iero families. They do live in a small town and are very close to each other, and Frank has always been forbidden of calling Gerard and Mikey’s mother by her name or "Mrs. Way". Mama is personal.
Mikey giggles and she follows, smiling fondly at Frank before stating, "I don't think I can read this."
Last year, fresh in his eighteens, Gerard was taken to do the Army Tests. He passed and was immediately recruited to join the forces. It took a year in training camp before he could actually leave the country and the letters were frequent for those twelve months; the camp was right in New York, so writing was easier. Now, Gerard's fighting with more troops in Vietnam and Frank is left running every day to his house and waiting for any news. Gerard’s family is, too.
It's been six months since they last heard from Gerard, so this is certainly important for them. At the same time, it's scary, because no one has any idea what this telegram's about. Mama Way's holding it securely in her fists and rubs two papers together; so there's two telegrams? Frank's just eager to open them and read what they say, so he says, encouraging, "It must be good news, mama, if the mailman was allowed to deliver it."
"Gee wrote! Gee wrote!" Mikey keeps yelling around his mother's legs. He sounds so excited that it's killing Frank's nerves, deeply.
Mama Way smiles and nods, shifting the papers in her hands again and flicking them towards Frank. She says, "Could you open these, please? I'm too nervous."
"Of course." Frank speaks fast because he feels ready to open the telegrams. At the same time, though, he feels terrified. He has no idea what they say, but they're both from Gerard, so it means he's still out there somewhere thinking of them. At least, there's hope that Gerard's thinking about his family and about Frank.
He finally tears the telegram open, not exactly carefully, but still trying to not rip it in pieces. That's when Frank notices that his hands are shaking very hard. It's all the emotions building up, not having seen Gerard or heard from him in so long. It's been killing him every day, coming up to the Ways' house to find an empty mailbox and dealing with his mother's concern about his jogging every morning, out in the cold, when his lungs complain so much. Frank doesn't mind, though; he does it for Gerard and he loves that.
The first telegram, dated from five months ago, reads:
I have arrived. STOP. It's chaotic. STOP. I love you all. STOP. Wish I was home. STOP.
The second telegram, from three months ago, reads:
3 months. STOP. I'm scared. STOP. I miss Mikey so much. STOP. Miss you all. STOP. Wish I was home. STOP.
Frank reads them to himself, then out loud, trying to make the information sink in rather than complain about how short they are. It's true that they're telegrams and not really supposed to be long, but still; Frank expected more. Or maybe he just wanted more but couldn't get what he wanted. Sometimes the world did work against Frank's will.
Mama Way cries the whole time. Not having Gerard under her wings has always made her so worried, and Frank is aware of that. He manages to hug her, when he's finished with the letters.
Little Mikeyway is still jumping around, chanting, "Gee wrote! Gee wrote!"
**
21 December 1970.
Tonight, Frank has the radio on to hear the news. It's almost time for another news block. He hates that he likes to wait for it, though, but this station always says the names of the soldiers who die in combat that same day. It dedicates several minutes many times a day to inform the country about those names and, apparently, honor the men who died in Vietnam. Frank's always terrified that he's going to hear Gerard's name, but he can't stop himself from listening.
It's necessary, because every day that he doesn't hear Way, Gerard on the news block, it means that Gerard might write another telegram soon and tell them how scared he is of everything. Those telegrams are always short, especially short on information, but it's good to know that the words come from Gerard's mind. It's strangely comforting. Gerard's still out there, after all, how can that not be comforting for the family?
Frank's lost in his readings of Gerard's past telegrams when the signal comes. It's time for another news block. First, the newscasters inform their listeners about the attacks and retreats and possible war strategies that the troops use on the other side of the world, in a place Frank has only seen on a map. Then the time comes when the one man and the one woman take turns reading the soldiers' names.
They always do it alphabetically, spreading it out over the day, so it's only at night that Frank cares to worry about the names being announced. He holds his breath when they start on the V. Gerard's name might be revealed soon. For some reason, Frank's heart beats faster than usual today; he can't quite put his finger on the reason why, though. He just listens.
"Vaughn comma Keith. Vig comma Fredrick. Vorley comma David. Waller comma Jeffrey. Ward comma Raymond. Way-"
Frank inhales sharply. This is it. In a frame of second, Gerard's on the line.
"comma Francis. Wells comma Seymour…"
Frank exhales, relieved. It isn't time yet, so he leaves the radio on and focuses on getting paper and pen to write a Christmas letter. He's running to his father's office to get paper and a pen, then back to his bedroom. Tomorrow, the Army will accept families' letters to send to their soldiers, rather than just short telegrams. The letters can't have more than a hundred words, though, or won't be sent. The reason for that rule, Frank isn't aware of it, but he sits back down and writes this letter with confidence. He wants Gerard to know that everybody's thinking of him and missing him.
"Dear Gerard,
we miss you so much. Youve been away for too long and our hearts have been broken ever since. Your mother cant stop her tears every time no telegram comes and every time a telegram does come and I read it to her. Little Mikey keeps running around the house whenever we get-"
Frank stops. That information about Mama Way will only depress Gerard, so he starts over.
"Dear Gee,
we miss you every day. I still run to your house every morning to see if theres a telegram from you. Im still sick about that, but it doesnt get worse, so dont worry. Mama Way cries for you and thinks we miss it, but shes alright, just worried. Mikey is still himself, a happy child, who jumps around when theres a telegram. Mom and Dad send love. Me, I got refused as a recruit. The Army has access to my medical records and saw family's history and my own sickly past. They refused me. I can never be with you and fight this war, Im sorry. I'll love you from home. Wish you were home."
It exceeds the Army's word count limit and it's not that good of a letter. Frank huffs and starts over. After at least five different tries, Frank thinks he's got it right. He reads it to himself:
"Dear G,
merry Christmas. Your mother tried to write a letter, but cried the whole time. She says she loves you, though. I helped Mikey write his own, he was so amazing. As for myself, got the Army's reply and will not become a recruit. I was in my best condition but they have access to medical records, so I cannot join you, even though I'm old enough. I wanted to, but they forbid people who are 'under sickness risk'. I'm sorry we can't be together. I love you. And I miss you very much. Wish you were home.
Love, Frank Iero."
It's not something terrific or absolutely impeccable, but it shall be enough. He tells Gerard about the news from his own Army Tests, which he took two years ago and last year and this year, but always got refused. His medical record is filled with disease, Frank's perfectly aware of it, from all the viruses he incubated when he was young, and all the flus, and all the history of high blood pressure and heart attacks in his family.
He doesn't really want to go to war, of course not, he despises it and awaits the moment when the war sends Way, Gerard back to his family and to Frank himself. They're best friends, have been for a long time, ever since that day when Frank was ten years old and saved Gerard from being run over by a truck by riding his bike directly in front of him. That day marked the beginning of a beautiful friendship that hasn't ended yet, and it's been ten years now.
Frank wants Gerard back, but if he had to join the Army in order to be with him and take care of him, his fears and his mind while fighting this war, Frank would do it. He would sacrifice everything to be with Gerard and help him in everything he needed. That's the value of friendship for Frank and he preaches in its favor, rather than in favor of the war.
After being rejected, though, Frank can only keep writing telegrams to Gerard and reading the telegrams he gets from Gerard, even three or six months after they were sent. What matters is that Frank reads them and shares them with the Ways, leaving Mama Way still crying and Mikey still chanting around the room.
Today, though, with Christmas almost here, Frank writes a letter, writes the address he was given by the Army and seals the envelope. All he has to do now is wait for Gerard to get it.
---
Dear Sir, we're sorry to communicate that we will not be able to send your letter. It exceeds the one hundred words limit by two words.
**
22 December 1980.
At the age of thirty, Frank thinks his life is pretty much perfect. He has a job, a place to live in, a human shelter for every difficult moment and a living wish. There are only smiles and hope and vision in Frank's mind as he lives every day into the future. For once, he's not scared of what's to come, like he was in the past, when his best friend Gerard went to war and one day there was a telegram and the next he was MIA. Or when Gerard came back home wounded and not wanting to see Frank for whatever reason - Frank refused to hear what it was later, because he'd gladly forget those days of a horrid living. At the moment, that is all part of the past and details that Frank is willing to forgive and forget.
He's content enough to look forward to the future, now. He sleeps next to Gerard every night and wakes up to Gerard's gorgeous face every morning, not as friends anymore, the best part being the fact that they share the same routine and the same happiness. The awesome thing about doing it and feeling it and sharing it with Gerard is that it's his adolescent love that has lasted. And together they are free and pleased and thankful to look forward and accept whatever may come, whenever it comes.
---
Being thirty and running the biggest grocery store in town is the best because its success is everything Frank could ever dream of. It's a small town he lives in, not really in the countryside nor influenced by the city lights, and that's what is so great about it. The elders trust him, the products he sells and the quality of the service; they respect Frank's hard-working personality and dedicated spirit. The youngest like to visit too, because Frank always has a little sweet to enthuse their smiles and brighten their days. It's a place Frank loves to work at, where he sees everyone at least once a week, many people come every day, and it's all he can desire in his life.
Frank runs it with Gerard, of course, and together they invested a lot in it, but it's paying off in every way. They ride together every morning, on week days and Saturdays, and open the doors at exactly 8am. The first person to come in is the baker, distributing the day's bread, because many elders prefer to buy their morning bread in there rather than have it delievered at home before dawn and have it robbed before they get up - that has seriously happened more often than not. Those people come in not long after the baker leaves. It's the best way to see friendly people in the morning, because Frank and Gerard have a smile on their faces to whoever comes in.
At 9.30, their part-time employee comes in through the door, greeting everyone warmly. He's just a High School dropout, a very young fella with dark skin and tattoos called Mike - Pedicone, he prefers, who rarely gets a smile from Gerard. Frank laughs about it because he knows the cause for such odd animosity. So maybe Frank's guilty enough, as he accepts Pedicone's flirting and sometimes flirts back, but only when Gerard's around. Frank loves to play this game with him, because he knows Gerard's trying not to show any jealousy but rarely manages to keep it under control. Frank's just having fun with it and can only hope Pedicone feels the same way, but they talk about it sometimes and the kid doesn't seem to mind playing the game.
A little before 11am, Gerard leaves. Frank kisses him goodbye behind the counter, just a small peck and a grin because Gerard always tells him something about Pedicone and the flirting, something possessive; Frank thinks it's adorable. Then he lets Gerard go with his thoughts to work at his parents' Italian restaurant, Estasi, where he's the manager during lunch hours, until 3pm. During that time, the routine at the store is serene: the customers that come in and out, the occasional re-stocking, the small lunchboxes Frank and Pedicone brought in with them which they empty in the storage room, in turns, in case there's this or that customer.
Then by 2.30pm, Pedicone leaves and shares a joke with Frank about anything, leaving a good mood and a smiling boss behind. Frank's on his own from then on, until Gerard comes back, sometimes at 4pm if he comes directly from finishing up at the restaurant, sometimes after 6pm if Frank's mother needs him to run any errand for her. It happens and there's nothing to complain about because Frank's mother has helped them a lot, including taking them in into her house until they get financially stable enough to get their own place. Helping her out is a way to thank her for helping them so selflessly, now that she's a widow and a little sick.
The store closes to the public at 6.30pm and Frank always locks the door half an hour later, after having closed the register and organized the storage room for the next day. Gerard's always beside him, either telling him something about Estasi, or about his brother, or about the errands he had to run, but every winter day what he complains about is the cold. That's what happens today. Gerard's saying how windy it is, how cold his hands feel despite the gloves and how much time Frank's taking to lock the door. Frank laughs. "And we're not even going home yet!"
Gerard rolls his eyes when Frank turns to him, but lets Frank wrap his gloved hands around one elbow as they stroll towards where Gerard parked his motorcycle. It really is windy today, and they might get some snow by nighttime, according to the weather man, but Frank focuses on something else. It's their last day of work until next week, since they're never open for Christmas, and there's always a warm dinner waiting for them at home.
Frank looks forward to that, but first they have to face a fifteen minute ride on Gerard's motorbike. It's their transportation every day, because neither of them owns a car and Frank's mother's old compact died a few months back. This way they really have to face the rigorous winter, but it's something Frank's already used to. Gerard still complains about it, but Frank knows how much he hates the cold. It doesn't matter as soon as they spot their house - or Frank's mother's house - at a fair distance.
When they stop, Frank hops off and lets Gerard go park the bike in the small garage they managed to build next to the house last year. Meanwhile, he goes get the mail, which has been delivered after 4pm and, although Gerard could have picked it up earlier, this is their routine. Today, Frank is more than glad about it. He sees a letter he's been expecting for almost two months, even if it's addressed to Gerard. He grins and grasps the small amount of mail they have, moving towards the door and meeting Gerard halfway.
"No bills to pay, I presume?" Gerard asks. Frank looks up and he's smiling, fondly, his bright teeth showing. His question is as assertive as that because when there are any bills, Frank opens the letters before getting to the door. Frank smiles back and nods towards the entrance, waiting for Gerard to get the house keys and open the front door. It does not have a handle on the outside, they have to use a key. They could knock and wait for Frank's mother to open it, but it doesn't matter. It'd mean waiting a little more out in the cold, and Gerard likes to open the door for Frank. At least he always makes a huge deal out of it, acting all gentleman-like and taking Frank's coat. It happens very day, but Frank still giggles at his actions.
"Welcome home," Gerard says, courteously and grins. Inside, they settle in, silent, in front of the coat rack by the door. They take off their beanies and gloves and scarves, then their coats and jackets and put on warm hoodies, take off their shoes or boots and put on their slippers - and finally they're comfortable and at home.
The Christmas tree is there, in the living room, tall and grandiose, witnessing their arrival. It watches close when Frank pulls Gerard for a kiss. It's short and soft, a touch of lips and a bit of tongue, just something welcoming and gentle. It feels good every day and every day, Frank smiles as he pulls away. Gerard's right there, hands on his shoulders and a kind smile adorning his mouth.
Frank has often thought of how lucky he is to have such an amazing life, after a hard time struggling for Gerard and the return of his sanity. The war was awful to him and Gerard came back home completely scarred and speechless. It took him several years of a persisting, careful treatment, first with his family, then with a therapist he allowed in and then Frank. Together they've battled a long path to this stability they have now and Frank's proud of how strong they were and still are just for the fact of being a couple. To Frank, it's still pretty incredible what good feelings and a steady mind did to them.
Today, however, he doesn’t need to think about that. They're totally fine, both smiling, finally at home at the end of another day and the beginning of another night. Their band's putting up a show at the town's biggest club, The Mist, like they always do. They started as a group of friends in Middle School and emerged as a band years later, applauded quite loudly by the town's population - and the visitors that hang out at the club. Frank's actually excited about the show tonight, because there's this rumor that a major label has been hanging around the state listening to smallish bands and signing new contracts. He reminds Gerard of that and says, "It might be tonight, Gee."
"I know. It's been making me nervous for weeks," Gerard jokes, with a small laugh. Frank grins in agreement. Signing their small town band has been a dream of Frank's for years now and his heart beats harder than ever when he considers that and how close their chance might be. There is another dream yet to come true, which kind of still lies in his hand - he's still holding the mail, after all. Gerard pulls him out of that chain of thought, by saying, "We gotta have dinner first. C'mon."
Frank goes, as Gerard takes a firm hold of his empty hand and guides them to the left, to the kitchen. Frank's mother must be in there because the house is silent and there's a delicious scent in the air when Frank inhales. He calls out, "Ma, we're home!" just as they pass the door and she spots them, smiling.
"Hey Ma, it smells really good tonight," he hears Gerard greet his mother, pausing to kiss her cheek. Frank loves how they get along so great. Frank's an only child and the Way brothers have always been like sons to Frank's mother. That awesome bond between the two families still lasts, especially the respect Gerard and Mikey hold to their second mom. It has taught a lot to Frank, mainly in those occasions when the rebel kid in him failed to see how wonderful she is as a mother and a person in general. Frank loves her, though, and loves his great family that sticks together in every moment.
"French onion soup," she says, still smiling and waiting for Frank's greeting. He hugs her quickly; the usual. "It's almost ready, so if you please-"
"You got it." Frank's response is immediate. He puts the mail down on the counter and goes to get the soup bowls, Gerard's gone to get the spoons. Frank smiles when he sees that Gerard's spotted the mail lying there.
"What's in the mail today?" he asks, like he doesn't know. "I didn't even look at it properly."
When the table's ready, Gerard reaches out for it and looks closely. Frank looks up at his mother and winks; he couldn't have thought of this surprise Christmas gift by himself. Gerard certainly deserves more than the usual gifts and Frank knows this is very perfect. It's what Gerard always wanted. Frank looks back at Gerard and sees him putting away the three letters to his mother and focusing on the faded yellow envelope in his left hand. Frank's jumping on the inside. He's been expecting it for a long time, but it definitely has come in perfect timing.
"There's something for me," Gerard says, cryptically, twisting the envelope in his grasp. Before opening it, he adds, "It's from California."
Frank contains his grin somehow. Gerard's about to find if his prayers have been answered or not - Frank kind of knows they have, because otherwise the letter would have arrived much sooner or not at all. He waits as Gerard reads the letter. He looks really apprehensive and his skin turns a little pallid, too. Frank asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just-" Gerard gulps, puts the letter down and looks up at Frank. For a moment, only the boiling soup interrupts the silence, but a second later Gerard continues. "This is from that art school that I love, you know, the one in California that was advertised worldwide? It was all over the news months ago."
"Yes, I remember. You even sent your portfolio to them. I helped you write your motivation letter?" Frank says, trying to remain unsuspicious.
"Exactly, but that was over a year ago. I can't believe they just found my application. It's not possible," Gerard responds, frowning. Biting the inside of his cheek is the only thing Frank can do to not shout in Gerard's face that it's his fault; he sent another copy of Gerard's portfolio to California and his mother helped him write a letter telling the school how interested and hard-working and talented Gerard is in everything and especially in art. He smiles and sighs as soon as Gerard looks down again, looks at the letter.
"So, what, one year after I sent them my portfolio full of crappy superheroes and tiny storylines drawn in High School and themeless pictures of you from when we've lain in bed all lazy and comfortable, they want me and write back? I don't understand. It's been too long, they can't possibly be interested in me," Gerard finishes at last, sighing. His shoulders slump down and the frown on his forehead intensifies, which concerns Frank.
"What exactly does the letter say?" he intervenes, seeing his mother stirring the pan.
"They want me in their Exclusive Classes in the course of my choice, lectured from January to June, and," Gerard stops, his voice failing and his eyes trembling. Frank can see that when Gerard looks up. He seems honestly surprised and actually a little emotion. Frank smiles fondly and approaches Gerard, as he keeps talking. "And they want to give me a full scholarship for it."
"But that's so great! How can't you be happy? This has been your dream ever since you finished High School and started working at Estasi. You have a chance after all these years," Frank says to him, assertively. His heart's beating crazily, against his ribcage and in his mouth. Frank keeps it in, no matter what he knows. He's guilty as Hell, and wants Gerard to react differently. He had been expecting a little more enthusiasm for sure, something more personal and Gerard-like. He's just shocked and wide-eyed, frowning, when he should be yelling of joy and telling everyone he knows! Frank wants that, wants the gleeful laughs and the high squeals and the passionate hugs.
"It is great," Gerard starts, un-frowning his forehead and throwing his weight onto one hip. Frank sees the shift in his body. "I just don't understand why they took one year to respond. The letter is dated from two weeks ago, this is very recent. I don't get it. Hm. Unless-" He locks gazes with Frank, softly, wondering.
"This one's easy, Gerard," Frank's mother says as she turns off the stove. Frank looks at her and gives her a look, but she shrugs. Frank does so too and when he looks back at Gerard, there's a light in his eyes.
It looks like he's figured it out because his eyes widen even more and he goes, "Unless someone else reminded them about me, for some reason."
"Yeah, that sounds possible," Frank agrees, still not willing to just give in, but letting all the clues out. "Maybe as a Christmas present, who knows. We've got friends everywhere, maybe it's a groupie. Ma, you want any help?"
"Frank," he hears Gerard.
"What?" Frank says, still handing a bowl out to his mother to put soup in it.
"Frank, I'm talking to you," Gerard insists, his voice louder. Frank doesn't react, just looks at his mother and finds a smile gracing her features. He can't keep his in, though, and ends up grinning at her. Gerard talks again. "Did you do this?"
Frank turns to him, placing the full bowl on the table. "Why would I do such a thing?"
"Because you're you! And your mother's sly grin says enough, thank you very much. I know you both. Frank, look at me!"
Frank obeys, smiling. "Congratulations," he whispers while his mother laughs, and a bowl clinks against something. He also loops his arms around Gerard's waist, in a dancing move.
"You did this! Oh my God, you really did," Gerard exclaims. Frank nods and they hug, or crush each other. Frank's mother laughs again. Gerard squeezed Frank until the youngest can't take it and pulls away with a laugh. He's still grinning as Gerard asks, "Why'd you do this? Seriously. I thought you didn't want me to go because it's across the country!"
"It's still your dream, Gerard," Frank answers, honestly. He looks at the table and there are three bowls of soup on it already. They sit down after the lady of the house. Frank sets down to eat immediately; they can finish that conversation after dinner.
---
Already in the bedroom upstairs, as they get ready to leave, Gerard asks Frank about the faded yellow envelope again and Frank’s reasons to have sent another letter to that school. Frank responds, "Maybe I didn't like the idea when you first sent your portfolio, maybe I thanked God when there was no answer. Maybe I silently prayed every night that you didn't go away again, but then maybe I as wrong. I thought better. This is your dream. You couldn't afford it right after High School, but it's been many years of postponing it. Now the business is doing good, our band performs every night. We're stable and happy, so maybe you can finally pursue this career. You deserve this, Gee."
"But moving over there would mean-" Gerard starts, but interrupts himself. They're being honest with each other now and can't leave anything behind, so Frank waits patiently. It finally comes. "I know why you didn't want me to go before. I know and I understand. I love you. You love me. We have a lot in this town, as a couple."
"Absolutely, but it doesn't mean you have to give up everything for me, okay?" Frank says, smiling softly. He grasps Gerard's hand and sighs. "We've been living MY dream for so long, playing with our band at The Mist! I want you to do this, it's what you've always wanted. I can stay here for half a year, I can take care of the store and help out your dad at the restaurant any time he needs me, we'll tell the truth to our fans and we'll do something without you in town. Everything while you go attend your dream classes and get your dream knowledge."
"But there's other stuff," Gerard persists, speaking quickly like he means to say a lot more. Still, Frank doesn't let him. He squeezes Gerard's hand and says,
"We'll figure it out before you go, okay?" Gerard nods, smiling, and Frank grins at him, happy.
Gerard pulls on Frank's hand swiftly and Frank stumbles into his open arms. He smiles and looks at Gerard, who's grinning and soon pecking his lips. Frank lingers on that kiss before they leave for the club. Gerard pulls away and says, "If we didn't have a show to play, I'd thank you now. It was a huge Christmas present, you deserve something special."
Frank laughs, nervously. He gets the hint, and he would have even if Gerard hadn't added a small wink. He'll always get that kind of hints, seriously, so he says, "Don't worry. We don't have to get up early tomorrow!" And kisses Gerard hard in a mess of mouths and limbs and hearts.
**
23 December 1990.
Frank makes a gurgled sound and inhales desperately. It startles Gerard so much that he's standing by Frank's bed the next second. He can't help being edgy at the moment, with what this situation involves. It happened all of a sudden during what was supposedly one of the most beautiful moments between them. One minute Frank was arching under Gerard and moaning, the next Frank was laying motionless on the bed as Gerard called an ambulance on the bedroom phone. The sole image in Gerard's mind of Frank's rigid pose is agonizing, but the present sight isn't any better. Frank's face is pale and his hair's almost translucent. It's awfully incredible how someone as hopeful and vivid as Frank can look like that in a moment of agony.
Gerard pulls the chair closer and sits down again when there's silence again. This time he's as close to Frank as he can, moving Frank's hands to beneath the blanket. Then, he slides his own down there to clasp them around one of Frank's and it’s freezing. He sighs because there's nothing he can do at the moment, really, and it exasperates him. He wants Frank back in bed, arching up and moaning and feeling the pleasure of their sex, but what he gets instead is a Hospital room and trouble in his mind. It's not the Christmas he planned, no matter how vague their plans were besides Christmas dinner at Estasi and the gift exchange at Gerard's parents' house, with all the family together. It probably won't happen now. It's only tomorrow night, but it's almost out of Gerard's range. He feels bad to think that way, though.
Frank moans. Gerard looks up and analyses his figure. It's still not moving but the previous sounds are positive enough to him. They might mean Frank's gaining back his conscience, Frank's coming back to the world of the living, back to Gerard. The sound he just heard was weak and fragile, still not reassuring enough, but it's more than the silence of the last two hours. The sun's setting outside, Gerard notices the difference in the natural light through the window, although the sky isn't clear. It matches his insides, rainy and filled with worry. It's been like this for quite some time now, years actually, because Frank's malady isn't something new to them. Gerard wishes it wasn't even a reality. He wants Frank to be healthy and lively, despite his forty years of age. The number never meant a thing to him, because Gerard has been there before and made a huge deal out of it and Frank was always comforting and understanding and great at talking Gerard down. It's over now and it feels great to have made amends with their age, but nothing takes away this anguish.
Gerard shushes Frank when the next sound comes. "Easy, Frank, take it easy. You're okay now," he says smoothly, silk in his voice like Frank's always done to him when something bad happens. Like when Mikey crashed his car a couple of years ago, or when Gerard's father went to court under a false accusation of child abuse; every time something bad happens, Frank's there with a soft tone of voice and now it's his turn to be on the receiving end. Gerard loves to reciprocate all those things, because Frank's an amazing person and deserves only the best. Thinking about that, he squeezes Frank's fingers and places his forehead on Frank's covered forearm, secure and protective.
Frank moans again. It's less feeble, but more painful. When he inhales, there's a horrible scratchy sound that hangs in the air, a cat's purr that shouldn't be there. Frank sounds horrible, but Gerard knows the putting cats have been in Frank's lungs for almost a week; he's noticed the difficult breathing some nights in the bunks of beds. He looks horrible too and Gerard's all hopeless and helpless. All he can do - they can do - is wait for things to get better. Doctor Dewees, who Frank has been seeing since Gerard can remember, said that Frank's lucky, that they acted quick and probably saved him, so there's no reason to change now. Frank's luck will still be there in the end.
Gerard is still scared because Frank's ill and frail, and might never fully recover. The uncertainty of the future brings something else to Gerard's care, besides the worry: it brings a silent prayer. Gerard has learned to be a Catholic with Frank and studied the best prayers from Frank's mother's books; now he uses them all creatively and honestly. He's convinced that since God's doing this to them, then only God's power is great enough to undo it.
Frank inhales once more, the purr pronounced and loud, and Gerard looks up at his face. It's pale and inexpressive, but his eyes are open. Gerard murmurs his prayer loudly until it's over and moves his hand to grasp Frank's rosary; it lies beside the pillow. He puts it in between their joined hands and Frank squeezes the beads softly. It grazes Gerard's hand and another moan follows, something similar to a word but still undefined.
Gerard changes his Catholic murmurs to laic words. He says, "Calm down, Frank. It's me, I'm here with you. Don't panic, it's gonna be okay."
Frank inhales again and a lot of more sounds follow, some of them turning clear. "What-" Frank tries in a raspy voice, but seems unable to continue. When he coughs, the reason for it is pretty clear for it comes with fluids and mucus, and it makes Gerard even more worried. He lowers his mouth to Frank's ear the best he can in his sitting position and whispers, "It's alright, take your time. This isn't just a cold, Frank, but you'll be fine. The doctors'll save you and I'll help. So help me God."
Frank seems to smile and he also squeezes the rosary and Gerard's knuckles again. The next time he inhales, the exhales that follows brings a proper question: "What happened?"
Gerard gulps, remembering. "You had a heart attack."
Frank inhales, deeper and louder this time. He coughs too and it sounds painful, so Gerard stands from the chair and, with one knee on the Hospital bed, he lies his upper body next to Frank's and hums a melody into his ear. It's supposed to be soothing as the news kick in.
It's not like they haven't been aware of this possibility, due to Frank's family history and his own past, but it's always scary and uninvited. Just because Frank has always had trouble staying healthy during the cold season and had been saved from the horrids of war because of it, that doesn't mean they know what to expect all the time. Usually, the rain comes and causes a snotty nose, then the cold nights hit and bring a steady cough, and finally the snow falls and carries infections, or fluids, or fever, or many days in a row without getting out of bed. However, due to the history of heart diseases and high blood pressure in the Iero family, the worst case eventually arrived to Gerard and Frank's lives. Two grandparents have died of heart attack, one uncle has always suffered of a severe heart condition that limits him to living inside a sterilized room since he was twenty years old and Frank's mom has been having high blood pressure crisis for at least seven or eight years. However, Dr. Dewees advised Frank to take medical tests to evaluate his situation, but the results haven't a concern of the couple. Until now, that is.
"This isn't home," says Frank, weak as Gerard hates to see him. Whenever Frank gets sick, whatever the cause and the disease, Gerard can hardly stand the pain of looking at him. He's always pale and sad and barely alive, so of course Gerard doesn't like it, but he also knows he's one of the people Frank most likes to have beside him. And he's proud of it, nevertheless, never refusing to do it.
"No, you're at the Hospital. They've got you wired to control your heartbeat, to compare results and save you from another attack," Gerard explains very slowly. He can see that Frank starts moving around a lot, agitated, so his tone, words and caresses serve the purpose of calming Frank down. The increasing beeps on the monitor, though, make Gerard nervous and he squeezes Frank's hand beneath the blanket.
The minutes go by in their silence. Frank's eyes close again and the beeps accelerate even more, while Gerard tries his best to shush Frank into calmness again. He does so in whispers, yet it doesn't seem to work because Frank grasps and holds his chest filled with air, and his eyes are suddenly wide, and his mouth is suddenly open. Gerard panics, squeezes the hand and the beads of the rosary. Then there's a nurse beside Frank too, injecting something in the IV on Frank's arm; she checks his eyes, his mouth, neck and chest and a few seconds later, Frank calms down again. The beeping slows down to a steady rhythm and Frank's head lolls to the side. He's out again.
With a sigh, Gerard lowers his head to the bump their hands holding rosary form under the blanket and feels something in his eyes. It's probably tears because he's sad, he doesn't want this to happen, not when they've got a real band that tours across the country, playing in bigger clubs and halls; and when they've got a house that's really theirs where there's music and art and happiness; and when they've got people working for them and the store's expanded in size and success, following the natural growth of every town. Their life is so wonderful, they have each other and share so much, and this murmur in Frank's heart, diagnosed in '85 - it simply shouldn't intervene and put Frank in this misery.
Gerard stops thinking and focuses, sighing. He looks up and Frank's out, sleeping due to the medication the nurse brought earlier. Rubbing his eyes first, he lets go of Frank's hand to do the sign of the cross at his front and grasps the rosary tight, and then he starts murmuring and counting the beads. He counts randomly and speaks freely whenever he feels ready, a little relieved from the pressure of the previous scene and fully committed to this deity he has learned to trust. He mumbles his words, murmurs like Frank's heart somewhere inside him. Gerard focuses on that and prays to the Lord he deeply believes in.
**
24 December 2000.
The door opens and closes behind them. It's definitely warmer inside.
Frank's moan echoes in the empty house. It vibrates through the air, through Gerard too. He kisses Frank harder to get another moan, because Frank staying quiet is definitely impossible if he makes the right move. He also gropes Frank's crotch. Gerard knows everything's frantic and quick, but he's been waiting for hours now.
They're just coming home from dropping Frank's mother at home after the Christmas dinner at Mikey's newly decorated dining room. It was a simple family dinner with gift exchange included, the usual for many, many years. Gerard remembers being a kid and celebrating Christmas with the Ieros in his childhood house which was barely big enough to host them all, or going to the Ieros' house and learn more about guitar, or even going to his grandma's house and tell Frank all about the sculptures, the paintings, the piano and the videotapes. It's been an amazing ride, this life through all these years.
Today, they come back home again and it's peaceful, despite the kissing and the groping and the moaning. Gerard's just wanting and needy, not even thinking about how tired he feels. They stop for a minute to take off the scarves, beanies, gloves, coats and boots and let them fall to the floor. Gerard follows Frank to the living room but reminds himself to go back and lock the front door; they never take any risks with security.
Frank's laugh echoes in the empty house. "This house is deadly silent. I hate it," he says, later.
"Let's fill it with noises, yeah?" Gerard winks. He steps forward too, towards Frank and his lips and arms, but Frank moves faster and runs up the stairs. Gerard follows and catches him easily, Frank's never been much of a runner, and even if Gerard himself hates doing it, when it's for fun, he can easily catch and outdo Frank.
He gets to the bedroom door first and opens it quickly so that, when Frank gets there, Gerard just pulls him in and closes the door with Frank's body as they kiss. They're automatically glued together. It doesn't start slow. Gerard just goes for it, he kisses Heaven and Hell out of Frank and Frank totally complies. He's relaxed under Gerard's mouth and hands, which Gerard can't stop. They move on their own, almost. His arms get loose around Frank's torso, then Frank's hips and later his fingers wrap tight on Frank's flesh. And his tongue darts out and explores.
The kiss is fierce and hot. Gerard's hands move to Frank's shoulders and hair, pulling, causing moans and bringing Frank closer to the bed. Their lips battle easily, knowing it all by instinct. Gerard stumbles at some point and falls on his ass. He's on the edge of the bed; thankfully it's not on the floor, but Frank's laughs anyway. It does not echo this time. The bedroom is small and filled with them, with their presence and heat, simply lit by the light spilling from the street lamps through the wide open shades.
Frank takes a step closer and Gerard knows where this is going. That's why he makes a move that stops Frank in front of him. "Wait," he says, and gets up from the bed.
Gerard walks to the nightstand on the side of the bed that's closest to the window. Frank's side of the bed. There's a pitcher with water on the bedside table; Gerard fills a glass with it and takes the box of pills inside the single drawer. He places only one on his open palm and closes his hand, securely. The pills are part of Frank's medication and serve their purpose of controlling Frank's heart; they're pretty new after the last heart attack, six months ago, that scared Gerard to death and depression. Frank recovered and Gerard was thrilled, but he's still scared. The usual.
"I'm only supposed to take them before going to sleep," Frank whines, but gently. This isn't the first time Gerard's doing this before anything sexual happens on their bed, and he probably knows it won't be the last.
"I know, but I wanna play safe," answers Gerard, as honestly as he can. Then he adds, "Please," before sending Frank his serious gaze. It's the important one that neither of them should ever ignore.
"You always do this," Frank says.
"I always care."
Frank smiles gently after that line, as Gerard finally walks over to him to hand him the pill and the glass of water. Frank takes it all and swallows effortlessly, as he is so used to that routine already with daily meds to take every morning and every night. He's not a kid anymore, after all, and Gerard doesn't really understand how he can take so many and Gerard doesn't take any, even when he's older. Frank doesn't let him question it, though, claiming that health trouble was a part of his family history and there was no way around it. Gerard can't help it, though; he wonders why and talks himself down every time Frank gets weaker.
The worst of it are the dreams that leave him restless after he wakes up. They began after that last heart attack in June and remain horrible every night, always very creative. Some of them are colorful and undefined, but others and in black and white and revolve around Frank's death in different circumstances. It chums inside Gerard after he wakes up and makes him disgusted, cold and distant for a couple of hours. Gerard never told anyone about them, but might do so for New Year's Eve, since they always share, as a couple, what they consider the previous year's failures and the new year's resolutions.
"You're thinking about something," Frank interrupts his mind, handing him the glass bkac. Gerard walks back to the nightstand and puts it down where it belongs. He sighs, too, but forgets soon. This is not the time to dwell on all this; he's alone with Frank and they've been waiting for this moment for enough days now.
"Yeah, about what I wanna do to you," he says, unrevealing as he shakes the thoughts out of his head. He approaches and kisses Frank. It's honest and raw, strong enough to show all the care and affection that he feels every single moment of every day of his life.
He lays Frank properly on the bed, then rolls them over and lies on his back on the mountain of pillows at the top of the bed. He lies comfortably there and lets Frank lead the next kiss. It's beautiful to feel Frank there, hear Frank there, that kiss and the hums and his hands under Gerard's sweater, shirt and t-shirt, struggling for the touch of skin. Gerard easily grasps the hem of the sweater and sweatshirt Frank's wearing and pulls them off. The kiss stops until there's enough touch, and Frank's skin is definitely the right kind of warm to please Gerard. He presses Frank down against him and breathes hard, a drum in his chest. He also feels Frank's heartbeat when he mouths at Gerard's neck. Gerard moans softly.
"C'mon!" Frank pulls away and hums, willing. "I know how desperate you are, show it to me, Gee."
Gerard smiles warmly. Frank says that and knows it because he must be hungry too, after the last few weeks. It's been a month or so, after all, because December is always a crazy month, at the store, at the restaurant, on a tour, and there's barely time for intimacy. They don't even think about it because, at the end of every day, the feel of fresh sheets under their exhausted bodies leads to instantaneous sleep. It's irremediable. Which leaves the best part for after Christmas.
"It's been too fucking long," Frank interrupts again, mouthing at Gerard's earlobe, then jaw. He pulls back and starts unzipping his pants. Gerard moves quickly to help him.
They both get up on their knees in silence, not because it’s a routine like th rest of their days, but because these tiny moments before the sex are sacred and gorgeous. Gerard loves to watch Frank slide his boxers off with ease, but afterwards he fights hard with his own to take them off along with his pants. They're all tangled in his feet and it's driving him crazy tonight, which is not making anything easier. Gerard's cursing quietly at his own hands, but he's all shivers when Frank mouths at the back of his neck, helping him out because it's so disconcerting that his clothes finally slide down and fall on the floor.
He lies back down, naked, exposed, with Frank's mouth up his chest and Frank's arms sliding over his sides. They moan because that touch has been missed for too long. Gerard's spine arches up and follows Frank's mouth, but then Frank pulls back to kiss his lips again. They end up holding each other and moaning and kissing, a mindfuck kiss that makes Gerard dizzy and helpless. He's kind of squirming on the bed, under Frank, but nothing he isn't used to. Nothing he doesn't like. Frank's cock is perfect against him, hard and heavy, and hot, so much that Gerard doesn't know what to do with these feelings. It’s all too much for him to hold on.
He moans and hums and maybe shouts, but his mind's too blessed out to understand what happens next. It's all about feeling, there's no keeping it in, only pleasure rocking through every inch of him and he bucks up. Gerard's too desperate for this, but Frank kisses him and his mind comes back into place. He fists Frank's cock and moves fast, concentrated on producing an orgasm.
Frank stops him. Maybe Gerard whines. Frank says, "You don't have to do this, okay."
"But I want to. You can come first-"
"It doesn't matter. Just let it go, Gerard," Frank insists. Gerard knows what he's talking about.
He can't, though. "I can't, it's too-"
"I know what you're thinking," Frank intervenes assertively. His eyes are diamonds against Gerard's, brilliant and strong and unbreakable. "But don't- I'm not gonna die tonight."
He just kisses Gerard. Gerard lets himself be kissed, too, slow and passionate. That simple line made it for him, honestly. His heart's in this moment like always, but as every night there's a pinch of fear outlining it. He can't avoid it. Giving Frank that pill reminds him of his frail condition, but never stops him. He wants to be intimate and passionate and forget all things when he's with Frank, but at the same time he can't - there's too much at stake.
For now, though, because Frank requested so honestly and exposed Gerard's biggest fear into the bedroom air, Gerard concedes. He lets Frank lead him and soon he's melting under Frank's doing because he is Gerard's undoing. Gerard comes hard and fast on their duvet.
He jerks Frank off later, and Frank looks hot sweaty gorgeous. They lie limp and exhausted in their afterglow and yes, Frank is still very much alive. Gerard grins at him and holds him close, thankful. There can't be a better way to spend Christmas night.
**
25 December 2002.
"It was a beautiful service," Frank's mother whispers in his ear, by the altar, her voice trembling. Gerard nods against her head, next to his, in that warm embrace. She's been holding on as Gerard never thought she could, at the age of sixty eight, even one year later.
These past twelve months have been very difficult to him. Living in a house all alone when it's full of memories, it hurts deep into his core. He doesn't remember much of it, but the confusion, the hurt and the empty space in his bed is still present.
Frank has been gone for a whole year and his memory will never fade. Gerard wishes so.
~the end~
"Through These Years" - alternate ending: 1,000 words.