Frerard Oneshots

The Robot And The Skeleton

"What do you see when you look at him?"

The question had thrown Frank off guard. He leaned back into the metal coffee shop seat, tossing the query around in his mind. It was such a difficult thing to answer. The anger and betrayal inside him made Frank want to give out a shitty and rude response, one that would certainly change someone's mind about the man in question. It didn't feel right though. The man he was thinking about required something more complex, something that was both artistically abstract while also uncomfortably blunt.

When he had received a call from a new music label asking for an interview, he was prepared to answer anything. Anything besides questions about his ex. A part of him felt like he should've expected it, but the other half thought that because it had been so long ago, the subject had been dropped by most people. Frank expected more of the teenage girl half of his fandom to ask such a thing, rather than an adult interviewer. Every other time, he would dodge a situation like this, blaming the past relationship on drugs or anti-homophobia. Frank would lie, and Gerard would lie. Even now, he had an excuse ready, but something had settled in his stomach, and as much as he wished he could ignore it, Frank couldn't.

He looked down at his still warm coffee, cradling the cup in his hands. The man sitting across from him was eagerly waiting for a response, with his pen in hand. The sight was almost amusing to Frank. Since technology had come so far, most interviews were done over camera or some other type of machine that would record every word he said. He hadn't seen someone use a pen and paper for an interview in years.

Even so, Frank couldn't delay this any longer. He ran his hands through his hair, and exhaled.

"When I look at him, I see a skeleton." He stated. When Frank finally looked back up at the interviewer, whose name he couldn't remember for any reason, he saw that the man stared right back at Frank with his jaw hanging open just the slightest. The man looked shocked to say the least, but Frank wasn't surprised by that. It was a dark, morbid answer. Him and Gerard had been so close, and for Frank to say something like that when the world thought everything was okay between them changed their entire perspective.

The man shook his head quickly, as if trying to wake himself from his daze and regain focus on his mission. He adjusted his glasses and forced himself to speak. "Care to elaborate, Mr. Iero?"

"Gerard was human once. As he grew up, he came into contact with the world's darkness rather frequently. He was born different, you see," Frank explained, "Gerard didn't view the world like most people did at that age. His imagination was wild. Where you might see something normal or mundane, he would see it as extraordinary or special."

"Gerard had this light to him. It was beautiful. He radiated this.. glory. He could make anyone see things differently, in the most positive way." Frank smiled a bit, remembering the first time he saw Gerard work his magic like that. Then, his smiled faded as another memory worked its way into his mind. "And then something happened to him. I'm not sure what it was, but it slowly took that light away from him."

Frank quieted down then, a stern frown on his features as he nibbled on his thumbnail. The man across from him was busy scribbling down notes when he realized Frank had stopped talking. He peaked up at him from his glasses, noticing the bleakness that covered Frank's face. He felt bad, almost, for sending this damaged soul back to a place that probably would've been better forgotten. This was his job, however, and he wasn't going to get paid to pat Frank on the shoulder and offer him a beer for his sorrows.

"I see. I'm aware you spent many years with him while you were in a band together, but you speak like you watched him fade into this darkness, this depression. Yet, you said that this started when he was young. I'm also aware you're a few years younger than him. Were you around for his... descent, or do we just have different definitions of young?"

Frank chuckled bitterly, "No, we mean the same thing. I wasn't around to see him fade. He told me about it, that's how I know."

The man nodded in understanding. He looked down at his notes, processing all of his new information while thinking of another question. "How does this darkness make him a 'skeleton' as you say?" He asked.

"As Gerard lived in his dark world he got into bad things, and hung with bad people. I believe that people started to figuratively peel his skin away, and dismember him, and cut out his organs. They took away everything that made him human, and everything that made him okay, in the more realistic way of speaking. Eventually, nothing was left besides bones. When he realized he was just a skeleton, that he had lost his humanity, he tried to rebuild himself. Except when he did, he used metal slabs and wires and bolts. He became a robot so it wouldn't be so easy for people to peel him away."

Again, the interviewer was stunned into silence. He was partly astonished at the depth of Frank's response, and the rest of him was almost scared at the macabre visual.

"So.. he's actually a robot, not a skeleton?"

"Gerard is a skeleton inside a robot. When he rebuilt himself, he programmed himself with almost everything he needed to survive, but he left out one thing." Frank clarified.

"And what part would that be?"

"A heart."

The interviewer nodded slowly. "So are you saying that he is heartless? Do you think that makes him cruel or bad?" He questioned.

Frank shook his head and took a swig of his coffee. "No to both of those. I think it just means he can't feel anything. Robots are not capable of emotion."

He watched the man write down more. "I believe this will be my last question before I head out, but I'd like to know what you are, Mr. Iero."

Frank didn't have to sit long and think about that. He already knew what he was. The harder part was simply forcing himself to say it. He stood up, taking his beverage in one hand while looking down at the writer.

"I am a skeleton. I had everything stripped of me, but instead of them taking my heart out, they broke my ribs. Now, I've got bone permanently piercing me, so I am always bleeding. I didn't rebuild myself. I feel everything, but because of my damage I feel it differently. There is always the looming reminder of what's wrong with me, and Gerard...." Frank took a long pause. "We are alike in many ways. We could've been beautiful, but we just don't function right to work together. It's okay though, because sometimes someone comes along and puts their hand against my eternal wound, and the bleeding stops."

He smiled at the man, feeling bittersweet hope. "That's what the world needs. Enough people to put their hands up on the bleeding spots to stop the flow. To stop the pain." He took the man's hand with his free one, and shook it. "It's been a pleasure to talk with you."

The man simply gaped at him, but managed to shake his hand anyways. "Take care of yourself."

Frank nodded, and walked out of the coffee shop.

~~~~~~~~~
A/N: so that got

interesting

the picture above is what inspired this

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