It was over.
Well, the conflict was over: it was over in general, but for Frank Iero that was really not the case.
When Frank woke up on Bob Bryar's living room floor, at first, he thought he was dead, but really, everyone was glad to hear that that just wasn't the case.
It was over, and Frank could quite believe it.
The town was empty and desolate: devoid of life, but devoid of them, and somehow, somehow Bob's plan had actually worked, and the five of them found themselves alone, but alive in the remains of what was once the town that Frank had been moved to for his own safety.
Safety.
That fucking made him laugh, because really, this place had been nothing more than the cause of all his problems, but he wouldn't have it any other way, because Gerard Way stood in the kitchen, talking to Bert: unaware that Frank had woken up yet, and really, Frank was happy to just watch him for a moment or two, because everything felt fucking surreal with his head spinning like this.
He couldn't quite hear their conversation from here, and he couldn't properly read either of their facial expressions either, which made it pretty hard to decipher just as to exactly what was being said, but the fact that Gerard was alive right now mattered for more to Frank, because the nineteen year old really couldn't ever even dream imagining losing him at all.
Perhaps they'd move on and Frank would accept an apology, but he wasn't sure yet: it wasn't easy, though, and he was sure of that at the very least, because damn, his head was a mess, and it always had been ever since he got here.
And really, he couldn't help but remember when things were innocent and it was all nerves and mystery and Frank didn't even know who Gerard was and what he was capable of, let alone what he'd done and why he could never help but mean so much to Frank.
Maybe Frank wanted those days back: when Ray was still goddamn alive, for real, and Ray was his best friend, and Mikey was okay, and Pete was no one, and Gerard was just the shadow behind him in the record store and the chills running down his spine - everything felt pretend back then, but now it was just a constant headache, and Frank was going to be sick any moment now, and Gerard could feel Frank's eyes in the back of his skull, and he turned, and everything went wrong.
Frank recognised the tear stains on his face immediately: Gerard most certainly didn't make a habit of crying, but it was rather evident as to what had turned his eyes so red and his face so pale, well, paler than usual.
And Frank was frozen upon the spot as Gerard met his gaze, and everything felt static, and it was lost: Bert miles away from the two of them, despite standing within reaching distance of Gerard.
It was complicated: it always had been, and it always will be, and it was Frank decision from here. He could leave right now, now it was safe to leave this town, and he could make his way back to New York and start a new life and pretend this was just some distance daydream: that one winter you won't remember by the age of forty three, but it wasn't right, and Frank was frozen right on the spot, and Gerard meant far too much to just leave alone.
"Gerard- I..." Eloquence proved not to be Frank's strong point, as he finally found enough energy in his body to make his way across the room to Gerard, and to figure this all out.
"He's dead, Frank. Mikey's dead- I... I could never save him, and this is my fault.. I killed him in the end, Frank- why did you? Why did you let this happen, I... I... I don't matter... I... he's dead..." Gerard met Frank's gaze with an unplaceable anger, and Frank was a little nervous to say the least: searching his wrong doings in the nothingness, and resorting to turning to Bert, who simply stood wide eyed and guilty.
"What? I... this isn't your fault, Gerard. I know he's dead, but that's not anyone's fault... it's just the world fucking things up again... it was horrible, but... god, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, but you can't blame yourself: you can't blame anyone."
Gerard only shook his head firmly. "No, you're wrong." And with that, he stepped away from Frank, leaving the teenager wide eyed and just generally shell shocked as he stood alone and nervous in the middle of Bob Bryar's kitchen, because it was never over, not really.
"Frank, I... I'm sorry, but..." Bert stepped forward, walking past Gerard until he was in front of Frank, pulling the nineteen year old into a slightly unexpected, but always appreciated hug. "Look... I fucked up here... I told you that there was a reason I wasn't supposed to fuck with this shit, and I thought things were fucked up as they were, but these things... they... I'm sorry... I should have known that you can't just resurrect people with no real consequences-"
"Mikey died because I didn't." Gerard snapped, summarising Bert's stuttered excuse for an apology in one cut throat kind of sentence, that practically killed Frank too.
"Fuck." The silence was too long and the response was inevitable, but still Frank had nothing to say at all. "I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't have brought me back: you can live without me, but everything I've done was to keep Mikey alive, maybe I got lost somewhere down the line, but seriously, he's my little brother, and he doesn't deserve this mess: he never did anything wrong, and he never hurt anyone at all, whereas I'm the world's worst nightmare and this is all down to your guilt, because you feel bad for hating me, when you should: you should hate me like you hate every asshole who's ever wronged you, because I've sinned a thousand times more than them all combined."
"I don't hate you, and this isn't a guilt thing, because Gerard... you're wrong, I can't live without you, I mean this, I... I..." And the words caught in his throat.
"You don't have to say it: it's just guilt, and it was just a mistake, it was just to protect you... I couldn't have you dead... I couldn't live without you, Frank, I'm pathetic and obsessive, and you really do know that by now. I'm sorry: I fucked up a million times over, but still, ten million apologies wouldn't be enough-"
"One is enough for me." Frank continued, meeting Gerard's eyes in order to convey just how much he really did mean this, even if it was the stupidest decision he'd ever made, it was one he was damn sure of.
"No, Frank, that's fucking stupid, you-"
"Accept his damn apology, you fucking idiot." Bert piped up, shaking his head at the two of them.
"Okay." Gerard muttered after a moment, stepping forward and grabbing Frank by the hand, and glancing at his wrist, only for his eyes to widen a little. "The bracelet I gave you- I... it's gone?"
"I'm sorry..." Frank muttered, blushing a little. "I... uhh... lost it." That sounded better than the fact that his grandfather freaked out about it for some reason, but really, due to Frank's unconvincing tone, it really didn't.
"Good. I'm glad you did." Gerard sighed out, grabbing Frank by the hand and pulling him towards the living room. "Bert, can you give us a moment?" He nodded in response, disappearing behind a door to look for Bob and find out as to just what the hell he'd done to deal with this mess.
"Well..." Frank exhaled loudly as he sat down on the sofa beside Gerard, his knees pulled up to his chest and his beating at the twice the speed in his chest.
"You forgave me too easily, and... you actually... you actually did that of your own accord... I- I...?" And really, to Frank, Gerard wasn't making all that much sense at all.
"What do you mean? Of course I did." Frank turned to Gerard, utterly fucking confused. "I'm really sorry about Mikey, I am, but... I... I... you know I... you know I-"
"I love you." Gerard blushed a little at that, pulling his gaze away from Frank's out of embarrassment. "I'll say it for the both of us, shall I?"
"Yeah... I guess that'd be best." Frank sighed out, giggling out of anxiety as he did so. "Wait so this... I.. what do you mean with the forgiving me thing?"
"Frank, this isn't going to be easy, but I have to be honest with you now, because fuck, I should give you every reason to hate me, because I still can't believe that you still like me, because honestly, if I were you, I would have slapped me and fucked right off back to New York."
"I was thinking about leaving now and just going back there and forgetting this all, actually..." Frank paused, meeting Gerard’s gaze and trying to read his thoughts off his expression, but it was impossible: Gerard was complicated and always had been. "But I can't: you mean too much to me and I can't forget you, and I'm really damn stubborn about that."
"Well, I guess this will really test how stubborn you are, because I was a fucking horrible piece of shit to you, because...I... fuck... I didn't think of you as person for quite a while at first: I didn't think of you as my boyfriend and more as the pretty little slut who'd do whatever I said, but then... then everything got fucked up and whatever heart I have left got the better of me, and that’s entirely your fault. That bracelet was cursed, you see, it was a... it was a mind control, well just influence kind of thing... it's complicated, and well, Bert's not the only person who knows a little bit about curses and magic, let's say, but I just wanted to keep you as mine, and I wanted to ensure you obeyed my every word and was loyal to me, no matter what I did, and that was the way I was sure of that... but... you don't even wear it anymore, and that really fucked me up..."
"What the fuck, Gerard?" Frank's voice was cracking, and he was unsure as to what the hell he felt right now, because it was a fucking cruel mixture of hatred and love, and he wanted out, and he wanted to wish it all away. "Fuck... I... I..."
"Love isn't something normal in vampire culture... relationships, god no, and I didn't expect this at all, but you're everything I need, and Frank... I can't tell you how much I mean it when I say I love you."
"When did this stop... when did you start actually giving a fucking shit about the guy who was head over heels for you, huh?" Frank snapped, biting his lip as he glared at Gerard, utterly unsure as to what the hell he was supposed to make of this, because fuck, Gerard was messing with his head again, he was sure of it, but Gerard wasn't, and Frank was the one messing with his own head here.
"Quite a while ago now, it was sort of gradual, I guess, I don't really know... it was unexpected, goddamn, but now... I guess, if you want to, and if you don't hate me, if you can look past the monster I am, then I'd like to start out new and I'd like a whole relationship: one where we don't lie and we can't say I love you without freaking out, and one where it's just normal and we cuddle and watch shitty TV and get out of this fucking town and have a life together, and everything's okay... and that's a pipe dream.. I'm not sure I can ever escape this world, but with you... for you... I'd do anything, I promise."
And Frank sat, awestruck in silence for far too long, because every single second hurt with every single heartbeat and everything that was killing him inside. This meant too much, and this was always complicated, and he just wanted this to be simply and easy, and maybe, just maybe, Frank was the one complicating things, because maybe, just maybe, things could be easy if he wanted them to be, but he was always unsure.
"Tell him you love him before it's too late." The two looked up to see Pete Wentz stood in the doorway: his eyes red from crying, and his body shaking slightly like he was struggling to hold it together, but he was trying, and he deserved everything for that. "Don't fuck up like I did."
And as Pete left, closing the door behind him, Frank turned to Gerard, and Gerard’s lips in particular, because actions spoke louder than words, especially when they were caught at the back of your throat.
And immediately Frank knew he'd made the right decision, because this was easy, this was natural, this was everything this damn town had fucked him over for.
Gerard Way was his silver lining: hidden away, dull in the darkness of the shadows, but shining like perfection itself out in the open.
-
Pete wondered if his life had all just become one big practical joke, as he highly doubted that the tears would ever stop, and the heartbeat would ever pass.
This was a mess, and he knew it like he knew that it hurt.
There was nothing left of either Mikey or Ray now, and Pete knew that really, it wasn't anyone's fault, but still, that did nothing to fix the great gaping hole inside his chest.
It was a lovesick ordeal that needed to stop right fucking now, but Pete had no self-control and no knowledge of when to stop: a train that had left its tracks miles behind it.
There was nothing left for him to do here, and still he stood on the hills on the outskirts of town, and set his gaze off into nowhere: his thoughts following in the same direction, because it was unimportant, and he was unimportant, and everything was enough to make him sick.
Bob's explanation had been meaningless, and all in all, this had all meant nothing, but at least, for the time being anyway, Frank and Gerard were okay, and Pete would be the good person today, because even if he felt like the sand at the bottom of the ocean, it didn't mean he had to drag people down to the depths with him.
Things were fucked up as they were, anyway, and maybe that just wasn't something that Pete could do anything about, and maybe that was okay, but really it wasn't, and maybe Pete needed to become a better liar if he wanted to have any chance of surviving at all.
But maybe that didn't matter anymore, especially not with Mikey gone: there was no hope in trying to fix this and bring him back, after all, he'd seen what Ray had become, and maybe this was God's fucked up way of saying that he never should have gone to this fucking town with a fucking shitty ass crazy drunken teenage dream... he wasn’t Katy Perry, after all.
He'd grown up a hell of a lot here, actually, and it had hardly been anytime at all, but it felt like the best part of forever and maybe he was a lost cause by now, but that wasn't going to stop the stubborn asshole inside of him.
Frank and Gerard had made their way out of this place the next morning, and to where, well, no one had a fucking clue, but they just wanted out, and they couldn't be blamed for it at all: Gerard needed to get away from the town that had haunted him for decades, and Frank needed the guy who'd ruined his life to ruin it all over again.
Bert and Bob were working on rebuilding this mess: having buried the bodies of their friends, and burned the ones of their enemies, and Pete knew that with their determination and friendship, or perhaps something more than that, they'd sort it all out, but Pete was alone, and he had nothing, except the town that had killed his boyfriend.
Mikey mattered: always had and always will.
Pete had nothing to say at the funeral, and he felt guilty, but it didn't matter: the eulogy was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and perhaps so was this - one relationship amongst the many in Pete's life.
And chances were that he'd move on and start something else and forget about this all within twenty years, but he knew that was absolutely impossible.
Pete just knew that he'd done the right thing in ensuring that Frank said I love you back, because with one sentence, Pete had saved Frank from the same fate destined to him.
It was okay anyway: Pete could stay here, inside his head, where insanity reined free, because locked inside the four prison walls of his self-destructive subconscious, Pete saw Mikey all the time.
And that would kill him in the end too.
-
i have nothing else to say other than the fact that i was seriously considering killing off frank at the very end in a very painful manner and you should all be very grateful that i decided i couldn't be bothered to do that, so you get angsty pete w/ some character development instead- wait what i mean i totally did it out of kindness and not just a lack of effort lmao. anyway this is over no there wont be a sequel like half the people are dead. i like killing people off at the end its a very good excuse not to write a sequel. i don't like writing sequels. books only end when i get bored writing them lmao. i doubt pretty will ever end tbh. anyway, for serious thank you all very much lots for putting up with my shit and stupid puns and death and well idk i love you all a lot and i dont know what else to say but can you believe that there are people in this world who dont even know about the milk fic? do you think obama knows about the milk fic?