ficlet?
"Never Coming Back"
Frank/Gerard, Frank/Jamia, Gerard/Lyn-Z. Future!fic.
Warnings: Angst, MCR break-up.
Word count: 566
This is the song I was listening to while writing this:
I Don't Need Your Love - Aereogramme (It's an amazing song, you should give it a listen!)
Lately, everything is stretching at the seams, pulling the entire band apart until they're on the brink of insanity, almost smothered. But no matter what is said, it is always centered on them. In the studio, it's always the same awful scene played on repeat. Outbursts of arguments, screaming, throwing whatever insults they can at each other. Neither seems to have a problem with shouting how much one hates the other.
Every night Gerard comes pounding the door. The door of the house of the home Frank has made for his family. Jamia and the kids took a trip up to her mother's for the week and he knows he should feel awful, guilt-filled. But he doesn't feel guilty after all of Gerard's rushed apologies, frantic kisses and murmuring of how the arguments meant nothing. They were just words.
Frank knows that this isn't necessarily true. Everything has been building. The last couple years are taking its toll on the both of them and the band. Ten years have been exhausting and Frank just wants to rest and forget about recording deadlines, touring, and arguments.
"I'm not going to keep coming back to you, Frank," Gerard speaks up, nestled under Frank's arm. "One day, I won't. It's just another addiction to fight. I'll try to be stronger. I have to be."
"Why try to be stronger?" Frank sighs. "You'll always come back. I knew you for over fifteen years. You're pretty predictable, Gee."
"No," Gerard shakes his head, abruptly. "It's not working. And it's fucking everything up; the band, everything, you and me. Everything's falling apart." Gerard pulls himself up, looking down at Frank. "I won't come back tomorrow."
Frank watches Gerard yanking his clothes back on. He knows that he'll come back. He always will. Tomorrow and the day after. He always will.
It's the day Jamia and kids are coming back home. They're due back at five-thirty. Frank turns to the alarm clock, it's four-fifteen. He turns to Gerard and runs his hand over Gerard's dark locks. There are some grays mixed with the black, his hairline is starting to thin and wrinkles are etched from Gerard's frown settled on his face.
"This shit has got to stop, you know," Gerard says, softly. "Fuck, I got Lindsey. Everything should be fine. I shouldn't need you like this."
"Maybe, it's supposed to be like this-" Frank starts to say.
"Fucking what, Frank? We fight all the time, disagree with like, fucking everything! And then this?" Gerard makes a gesture to himself and Frank. "Okay, this ends here. Right now," Gerard says, searching for his clothes on the end of the bed.
"You'll come back. You always will," Frank says, as Gerard takes once last look at him - a sad smile - and exits the bedroom.
The next day, Frank tells Gerard how much he hates him, how his song-writing has become shit, how he always fucks everything up, how much he has changed. It becomes a screaming match. Bob, Mikey and Ray recognize the warning signs at this point and quickly leave. Gerard storms out, leaving Frank yelling until his throat is raw and hurting.
That night, Frank keeps checking the clock. He leaves Jamia and the kids at dinner and falls asleep in the guest room, whispering into the pillow how much he loves Gerard and how he wishes he'd come back. He always will. He just has to.
Gerard never comes back.
Frank/Gerard, Frank/Jamia, Gerard/Lyn-Z. Future!fic.
Warnings: Angst, MCR break-up.
Word count: 566
This is the song I was listening to while writing this:
I Don't Need Your Love - Aereogramme (It's an amazing song, you should give it a listen!)
Lately, everything is stretching at the seams, pulling the entire band apart until they're on the brink of insanity, almost smothered. But no matter what is said, it is always centered on them. In the studio, it's always the same awful scene played on repeat. Outbursts of arguments, screaming, throwing whatever insults they can at each other. Neither seems to have a problem with shouting how much one hates the other.
Every night Gerard comes pounding the door. The door of the house of the home Frank has made for his family. Jamia and the kids took a trip up to her mother's for the week and he knows he should feel awful, guilt-filled. But he doesn't feel guilty after all of Gerard's rushed apologies, frantic kisses and murmuring of how the arguments meant nothing. They were just words.
Frank knows that this isn't necessarily true. Everything has been building. The last couple years are taking its toll on the both of them and the band. Ten years have been exhausting and Frank just wants to rest and forget about recording deadlines, touring, and arguments.
"I'm not going to keep coming back to you, Frank," Gerard speaks up, nestled under Frank's arm. "One day, I won't. It's just another addiction to fight. I'll try to be stronger. I have to be."
"Why try to be stronger?" Frank sighs. "You'll always come back. I knew you for over fifteen years. You're pretty predictable, Gee."
"No," Gerard shakes his head, abruptly. "It's not working. And it's fucking everything up; the band, everything, you and me. Everything's falling apart." Gerard pulls himself up, looking down at Frank. "I won't come back tomorrow."
Frank watches Gerard yanking his clothes back on. He knows that he'll come back. He always will. Tomorrow and the day after. He always will.
It's the day Jamia and kids are coming back home. They're due back at five-thirty. Frank turns to the alarm clock, it's four-fifteen. He turns to Gerard and runs his hand over Gerard's dark locks. There are some grays mixed with the black, his hairline is starting to thin and wrinkles are etched from Gerard's frown settled on his face.
"This shit has got to stop, you know," Gerard says, softly. "Fuck, I got Lindsey. Everything should be fine. I shouldn't need you like this."
"Maybe, it's supposed to be like this-" Frank starts to say.
"Fucking what, Frank? We fight all the time, disagree with like, fucking everything! And then this?" Gerard makes a gesture to himself and Frank. "Okay, this ends here. Right now," Gerard says, searching for his clothes on the end of the bed.
"You'll come back. You always will," Frank says, as Gerard takes once last look at him - a sad smile - and exits the bedroom.
The next day, Frank tells Gerard how much he hates him, how his song-writing has become shit, how he always fucks everything up, how much he has changed. It becomes a screaming match. Bob, Mikey and Ray recognize the warning signs at this point and quickly leave. Gerard storms out, leaving Frank yelling until his throat is raw and hurting.
That night, Frank keeps checking the clock. He leaves Jamia and the kids at dinner and falls asleep in the guest room, whispering into the pillow how much he loves Gerard and how he wishes he'd come back. He always will. He just has to.
Gerard never comes back.