Work Text:
Sunday morning, June 5.
Gerard sat alone on the bench-swing on his patio and sighed, watching the wind blow through the grass peacefully.
Peaceful, lazy Sundays like this hurt more than anything.
The swing was made for two people. It felt strange being the only one sitting on it. It felt.. Uneven.
I should’ve been Frank sitting- no, curled up with him on the swing. But that chance was gone now. Frank was gone now.
It was unfair. Frank had been taken from him so early.
He hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye, hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him how he felt. It’d been so long since the last time they spoke.. He hadn’t gotten a chance to—No, he couldn’t do this to himself.
Gerard merely stood and headed inside, being sure to remind himself never to go near that swing again.
It was early October, the 7th he was pretty sure, when he’d gotten the news.
He’d been on the phone with his boyfriend of a few months, when his mother walked in and sat on his bed. Something was definitely wrong. His mother never walked in without knocking first. She’d been crying and he could plainly see it.
Gerard pretended to hang up his call and set his phone aside frowning. “Mom, what’s.. Did someone die?” His mother only acted this tense when someone passed. “Was it Aunt Polly or something? You said she was sick..” His mother just sat there silently and stared at him, as if trying to decide on how to tell him. “Did something happen to Mikey..?” He asked warily, relieved when his mother shook her head now. “Can you tell me who passed..?”
“..Frank. Last night, I think.”
Time stopped around Gerard.
Tuesday Evening, October 10th
The memorial service was otherworldly.
Gerard stood to the side, completely numb as people gave their condolences to Linda on the other side of the room.
He spotted Frank’s bandmates sitting up with his family during the service. He knew he didn’t belong there.
One of his previous bands performed a quiet song Frank had written. It was about his parents’ divorce, Gerard remembered. Frank has been spending the night at his house when he wrote it. He remembered curling up under his desk (his favorite spot when he was younger), writing it in some dumb journal and letting Frank write every other verse. He remembered Frank being so happy.
They were in the fifth grade.
He cried a lot. He met a few of Frank’s friends that he didn’t know. They seemed nice, but they didn’t know Frank like he did, and he could sense that they knew that.
Someone talked to him during the service. He mostly blocked out their words and face. Their voice was no match for the buzzing in his ears.
~*~
The months following the service were hard. Gerard found himself crying often. Talking to Frank often. With every memory that unearthed itself, Gerard found himself shedding more and more tears.
The boyfriend didn’t last. He got jealous of Frank’s memory.
Gerard found himself finding friendship with Linda. She was surprisingly easy to confide in. Not so easy to cry to, though. Gerard never let himself cry around her.
Gerard just barely made it to senior year, littered with breakdowns, messy relationships, self destructive behavior- the usual. He picked up smoking, then social drinking.
Nothing quite helped.
Nothing was quite the same without Frank, it seemed. He found himself constantly remembering the 16 year old boy with a passion for music and a light-up smile that he cruelly left behind.
What hurt him the most, he discovered, was how Frank was taken.
A self-inflicted gunshot, he’d overheard at the funeral.
Looking down at the gun in his lap, he supposed he wasn’t really strong enough to say goodbye to Frank after all.
Everything was black after that.