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Frank had been the first in the van that night, frustrated and on the verge of tears because...well, he couldn't actually think of a reason.
But Otter and Ray, as much as he knew they didn't mean to keep him awake when they came back, just kept fucking talking.
For hours.
Fucking hours.
And every other movement made that stupid loose floorboard creak.
Now he was awake, and staying awake.
It was too hot, but nothing could be done about it because the AC didn't work and they weren't stupid enough to leave the windows all the way open while they were in buttfuck nowhere, on there's-a-murder-every-two-days lane.
Basically, if everything didn't just fucking stop, Frank felt that his best course of action was to kill himself.
At no point did he hear Mikey come back, which meant he was either dead, or hooking up with someone again.
Whatever, he'd maybe find it in himself to care in the morning, when even the scent of the seats too close to his face wasn't sending him into overdrive.
Then the door fucking opened.
Frank really was going to cry now.
He couldn't stop the pathetic whine that slipped out as he sat up, because he knew his hair was a mess and he was all pouty and would probably shout at whoever had just disturbed his attempt at falling asleep, despite how badly it had been going.
But then Gerard spoke.
"Frankie, I know, but Ray took my usual seat, so can I...?"
They didn't need to verbalise the rest of their question, because Frank was already sliding over to the other side of the van, with much more force than necessary.
Gerard climbed in, and the van fucking creaked again, meaning Frank was now only narrowly avoiding the urge to slam his head against something solid until it knocked him out
He sat up, planting his feet on the floor, wincing when an empty beer can complained under the weight of his shoe.
With a deep breath, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and face buried in his hands, lower lip trembling.
From what Frank could hear, Gerard was possibly changing their shirt, or just generally shuffling around in an attempt to get comfortable, but he didn't really care what it was, because it made the van move and therefore creak.
'I'm going to kill myself', he thought, the beginnings of blind rage forming in his fists, starting to replace the overwhelmed annoyance from before, 'I'm going to kill myself and take everyone with me.'
He jumped when Gerard's hand landed gently on his shoulder.
"You should get some sleep," They said quietly. Finally a noise that didn't make Frank want to tear all his skin off and throw it around like some sort of crazed serial killer. "You were the first one back and you're still awake."
Frank only just managed to not roll his eyes and huff out something stupid like 'Really? I didn't notice.' and instead muttered "M'fine."
It came out slightly broken, and he sounded far more like a petulant child than he'd like to admit
Gerard sighed and shuffled closer to Frank, who, despite the heat, shivered a little.
"No, you're not. I can see you crying,"
Oh. Frank hadn't known he was doing that.
"-not that crying makes you weak or anything. You know I'd never think that, especially not of you. I hate the whole 'men don't have feelings' thing, like, who the fuck decided that?"
Uh oh. They were rambling like they always did. Which was extremely hard to stop once it got started
Frank lifted his face from his hands and shot them a look, which apparently worked, because they stopped talking and shifted to face him a little, opening their arms in an invitation.
As if out of instinct, Frank pretty much threw himself at them, curling up and clutching at their shirt.
Gerard made a sympathetic noise, leaning back so that Frank was sort of on top of them, wrapping their arms around his small frame, one hand carding gently through his hair.
"C'mon, Frankie. Tell me what's wrong 'cause I can't fix it otherwise."
Frank grit his teeth, trying to ignore the sob building in the back of his throat and the way it felt like his head was going to explode. "Everything."
The hand in his hair stopped for a moment before resuming it's gentle motions.
"Oh. Well, that's...a lot. Um," They paused and Frank stiffened because they were sober. They were definitely stone cold fucking sober.
He sat up, unable to stop his gasping breaths and the tears now flowing freely and hotly down his face, dripping off his chin.
"I- I can't sleep 'nd the van's too loud and too ho- hot-" He swallowed, starting to talk again but it broke off into a pathetic cry.
"Shh, Frankie. You can sleep, you're just overwhelmed, 'kay? Everyone's stopped moving now so it shouldn't creak for a while," They spoke softly, pulling him back into their hold.
Frank felt so, so guilty. They shouldn't have to deal with this. He was supposed to be asleep, not bothering anyone, letting Gerard get some rest, lord knows they needed it.
Apparently, he'd been babbling this out loud because Gerard shook their head.
"Stop that," They murmured. "You take care of me all the time, the least you deserve is for me to return the favour."
Frank sniffled. His sobs had died out and his eyes were drooping, feeling dry and a little itchy.
"C'mere," They pulled him up their chest until his face was resting in the crook of their neck.
Grimacing a little, he tried to push some of their greasy hair out of the way, but instead he just sort of decked them in the side of the face, and they laughed.
"Excuse you," And Frank couldn't help but grin.
"Not my fault you don't wash your hair," he grumbled. Admittedly, not his best comeback, but it let Gerard know that he was at least feeling a little better.
"Yeah, yeah," They responded, sounding tired. "It's not like it'll kill you."
"You don't know that," He giggled a little. "Maybe you've created a new kind of bacteria. It feeds on black box dye and kills those who breathe it in."
"Goodnight, Frank." They said firmly, squeezing him a little.
"Whatever," Frank yawned, still a little upset but mostly glad he could finally get some sleep.
Gerard's presence tended to do that to him.
Not quite make everything disappear, but so long as they were there, nothing seemed quite as awful as it did without them.
There was a long moment of quiet, filled with steady breathing and Ray's quiet snores from the next row of seats.
"I love you, Frankie." Gerard whispered. So quietly and so out of nowhere that Frank almost didn't catch it.
He smiled sleepily and mumbled "Love you too, Gee." before he let darkness cloud his mind, and unconsciousness dragged him under.