PART IV: Chapter 1

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PART IV – TO THE END

CHAPTER 1 – LESS TO WEIGH

A/N: In case some of you decided to skip the rest of Part III due to the trigger warning, a recap (if you already read the last few chapters you can go ahead and skip this A/N unless you want a refresher or something) – Frank decided to drink a toxic chemical in Chemistry class in order to kill himself and Gerard has been struggling with feeling guilty about it and generally remorseful for not caring more. He texted Frank on the off-chance that he might be able to let him know he's okay, though he doesn't expect him to be okay at all after what he saw him do. We left off with Gerard realizing there was nothing he could have done to prevent it and nothing he can do now.

My mind had begun swimming with better questions than why. How long had he been planning this? Did he leave a note anywhere? Why did he do it in front of everyone? Just to spite me? He certainly succeeded there.

Just a week ago I was worrying about Mikey's health. Now I was worried about Frank's. Just a week ago. It's crazy how fast things can change.

It was in the middle of Study Hall the next day that something better happened.

The vibration of my phone against the desk made me physically jump.

New message from Frank Iero

My heart positively stopped.

You'd think I would've jumped at the chance to talk to him again. To read what he had to say, at the very least. But no – I stared down at the pixels that spelled out his name until the screen went impatiently dark again. Absorbed by incredulity, I forced myself to move my suddenly heavier hands to reach out to read his message.

This is Frank's mother. He is alive and recovering. Thank you for your concern. However, I have read your previous messages to my son and therefore have to ask you to stop talking to him, because your sexuality is influencing him. Thank you.

I read the text over again. My emotions being out of whack entirely, I didn't react to it at all. Instead I passed my phone to Ray, who took it out of confusion and seconds later heaved a sigh of relief. "Dear God, Frank..." he muttered quietly. He set the phone back on my desk.

I felt like I was about to cry. He was alive.

I ignored the second half of the message. Like hell I'd stop talking to Frank. If anything, I needed to talk to him more often now. I needed to ensure that he was honestly doing better, not just pretending that he was. I needed to start asking him what was wrong if he ever stopped pretending. Now that I knew, now that everyone knew, it was about time I got past the it's-too-awkward part and talked to him.

It was up to fate to bring him back so I could do that.

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