What would I give?

I sit and stare out the window, watching as raindrops race down the window pane, each trying to beat the other to join the pool forming along the window ledge. I press my hand against the glass and feel nothing, I close my eyes as nothingness fills me. I never imagined it would be like this, death I mean...I had prepared myself for everything, or so I thought. Black abyss' of neverending darkness I could handle, fluffly coulds and shining golden gates with some old bloke stood outside with a guest list I could handle, damp dark ceverns filled with impossible heat and flames with a guy wearing the bottom of a goat and horns on his head...I would learn to handle. But not this, not just carrying on. Not being stuck here in this damn apartment block watching you fall apart, watching you cut every-one out of your life. A part of me is surprised you haven't left, but then again we did say this was our home...the place we would live together in forever. I only said it because it made you smile, truly, anywhere you where I counted as my home.

I turn in the window seat and see you slumped on the dirty cream sofa, your pale cheeks stained with the remaining tracks of tears that still fall ocasionally. Your hands are shaking as they hold a small square phtograph, your thumbs running over the image, you handle it so gingerly, so carefully as though it where the most precious jewel on the earth. It isn't though, it's only a poloroid snap-shot of a young man, about 28 with scruffy brown hair laughing at a long forgotten joke. A man the world will soon forget as easily as the joke he's laughing at, just like ripples in a pond. Soon I'll be gone, every-one will forget, every-one but you that is...but even then, in a way your only a temporary reminder, in 80 years who will know who Frank Iero is? Who will know that I loved you with all my heart? Who will know how I died, what I died for? Standing I walk towards you, my shoes making no noise as I walk across the beaten wooden floorboards, my clothes don't rustle as I kneel beside you, looking at the photograph from your 33rd birthday party. A sob escapes your lips and you clitch the worn phtograph to your chest, almost like you can kid yourslef that it'sme in your arms like I used to be. Gently I reach out and place my hand on your knee, your eye's flicker to where my hand rests for a moment, then you brain dismisses it and your eyes focus solely once more upon the photograph. I'm pretty sure that a small part of your brain recognizes that I'm still here, that I'll never leave you, but the rational part forces the more open side to remain closed.

The doorbell rings and I already know who will be behind the chipped white painted door when you open it, it's been the same person everyday at the same time since I died, everyday at five sharp for seven and a half months. Reluctanlty you peel yourself off of the grimy cream couch and march over to the door, yanking it open to reveal Mikey stood there, his hair quiffed back with a baggy t-shirt on and tight blue denim drainpipes encasing his legs that end in a pair of heavy looking black doc Martins. He smiles when he see's you, even if he knows you won't, or can't, smile back, and slips past you as you step to the side before slamming the door shut. As usual he struts over to the sofa and sinks down into it before he notices the photograph, slowly he reaches out a hand and picks it up, looking over the phtograph a small frown on his face as a sad light fills his eyes.
"It's his birthday today." your croaky voice reaches my ears and I turn slightly to look at you, as does Mikey. "29. He would have been just 29. He was too young Mikey...he still had so much left to d-do." You cut off as sobs fill your throat. My birthday. I never even realised, I just sort of lost track of the days after I died, didn't see much point trying to keep track of them to be perfectly honest.
"Gee...I understand that it hurts, and I know that you want him back, we all do. But mopeing around in your apartment isn't going to bring him back." I watch as Mikey stands and walks over to you, your eyes watching every careful step he takes towards you, when he get's about a meter away he raises his arms for a hug but you just stare at him blankly, sighing his arms drop to his sides. "This isn't what he would hve wanted Gee, you know that." You run a shaking hand through your hair as you open and close your mouth, searching for words to speak.
"It's just- I know- I mean-" You close your eyes before speaking lowly. "I just miss him so much...." Mikey rests a hand on your shoulder.
"We all do." Silence engulfs the flat or a moment, almost equal to the erry silecne that nearly always seems to follow the harsh eruption of noise like a gun-shot.

I close my eyes as I remember the night seven and a half months ago when everything around me completely collapsed.
"GEE! Quit it!" Your hands dance over my ribs as you tickle me, causing me to squirm and wiggle in our bed as giggles erupt from my throat, a slight manic grin on your lips as you kneel above me.
"Do you give?" I shake my head as I begin to have dfficulty catching my breath to verbally answer you. A smirk twists onto your lips at my answer. "Very well then." You continue to tickle me until my chest and cheeks hurt from laughing so much and my scream of submission comes out as little more than a breathless squeal. You climb off of me, satisfied with yourself at gaining my surrender while I lay breathless on my back, my hand resting across my stomach as my lungs try desperatly to regain some oxygen. For a moment you simply lie beside me, your head propped on you hand until you speak up, your silky smooth voice smug with victory. "Say it." I eye you from the corner of my eye, a slight smile playing on my face. I turn on my side so I'm facing you, a small teasing smirk settling on my lips.
"And what if I don't?" You chuckle before your fingers link with mine.
"Do we need an action replay of the last half hour ?" you ask while quirking your eyebrow.
"Fine!" I sit up and get comfy on our bed, watching you as you lay on your back, a satisifed grin on your face.
"Gerard Way-" I begin in a small mumble but am cut off by you.
"Louder." You speak simply, and slightly irritated I comply.
"Is the most handsome, kindest and hottest man I know." I continue in an obnoxiosuly loud voice, sure to wake the neighbours. However still you look at me expectantly.
"Aaaaannnddd?" You ask, dragging the word out childishly. Groaning I continue.
"He's also the best lover alive and has the largest cock known to man." you blink at me dumbly before giggling hystericaly.
"I don't remember that last bit!" You excalim between giggles, I shrug simply.
"Figured I'd give it a bit of Frankie-ness, y'know, spice it up a bit." We both sit there giggling at our stupidness until a loud scraping noise makes us both drop into silence.
"Did you hear that?" Your voice a scared whisper, I raise my finger to my lips, listening as more scuffling sounds come from within our apartment. "It sounds like it's in the living room." Your voice still the choked whisper from before.

Quitely as I can I lift myself from the bed, the springs creaking slightly as I move my weight from them, your hands grab my wrists.
"What are you doing?" You ask, your eyes wide. I put a hand on your cheek.
"Hey calm, I'm just going to see what it is, stay here ok? If you hear anything stay here, do not come out. Just call the police, ok?" You look me in the eyes, reluctant to let me go alone. "Ok?" You nod, even though your face clearly shows that your not happy wih the situation. I smile and peck your lips before reaching a hand under the bed for the cricket bat I keep under there 'just in case', wrapping my hand around the handle I walk ut the room through to the living room, the bat raised and ready to strike.

As I enter the living room I can clearly see two people rooting through our things, deciding what's worth taking and what's not. Without even thinking I yell out.
"Hey! What the fuck do you think your doing?!" They both spin to see me, one pulls something out of his pocket, and without thinking I swing for him, what I didn't realise at the time was he was the one I shouldn't have been worrying about. He only had a small pocket knife, his friend on the other hand was another story. A gun-shot made me freeze, a sudden flaring pain ripping through my chest made me cry out. The cricket bat that was in my hands dropped to the floor, my head drops slightly to see a crimson patch spilling out across my chest, my hands raise to it as my legs give out from under me and I slam against the cold wooden flooring. I hear the two intruders run out of the flat, and a set of slow hesitant footsteps coming towards me, that suddenly become fast and rapid causing small vibrations to run through the flooring and into my body. A muffled coversation seeps into my hearing range, even though it sounds as though the conversation is taking place miles away.
"FRANK! Oh God, Please, my boyfriends been shot, please help us!" Sobbing, then, arms holding me close, gripping at my body, some-one pleading with me to not leave them as blackness begins to filter into my vision.

I shake my head and shiver at the thoughts of that night, Mikey is still looking at you, pleading you with his eyes while you refuse to make eye contact.
"C'mon Gee, Ray, Bob and Billie miss you, they all miss you. Mike and Tre as well. It's just one night Gee, one night out with the guys." You shake your head.
"No, I can't. I just wanna stay here." You begin to back away from his slightly but he takes a step fowards for every one you take back.
"Please Gerard, it can't be good for you to be cooped up here all day long everyday." You sahke your head still whispering that you just wanna stay indoors. Mikey stops advancing on you and folds his arms over his chest. "Your not the one that died Gerard." You freeze at the cold words from your brothers mouth, bit he's not finished. "He wouldn't want you to be like this, he would want you to live. I know he would. And somewhere deep down You know it too." Your eyes remian locked with Mikey's, eah of you refusing to let up on the steely gazes being exchanged. I stand and cross the floor, moving at a fast pace towards you, not knowing how long Mikey will stay this time. I place my hand on your shoulder and watch as you visibly flinch, your eyes break contact with Mikey's and look for whoever is touching you, I lean in and speak before the rational part of your brain can take over.
"He's right Gee. Go out. Live." Your eye's are wide, and I can see tears begin to fill your vision. "I'll still be here when you come back. I'll always be here." I let go of your shoulder and step back, I watch hoping that you'll listen, even if you do just think I'm a part of your imagination. You dither for a minute, chewing your lip as your fingers pick at a loose thread on your sleeve.
"Ok Mikey, you win. Jus tonight though." The grin on Mikeys face lights the entire room up and nearly slpits his face open.
"Alright!" he grabs your hand and begins to walk with you to the door.
"No alcohol for me though." You remind him. He just grins and nods as you both walk out the door. I move towards the window and watch as you both run through the rain trying to avoid getting soaked, I rest my hand against the window and think about what I wouldn't give to be able to run through the rain with you, to be able to go out with our friends one last time, to kiss your lips. Soon I realise the only thing I would never give is the thing I've lost. You.