Finding Gerard

Franks point of view

I parked the car in the first space I saw, grabbed my shit from the trunk and made a dash for the terminal building. It was the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, but there must be a flight.

Welcome to Des Moines International Airport read the sign over the door.

"I need to get to California," I said to the woman sat on the only desk open.

She jumped a little.

"You're in luck, check in right now, flight leaves in 45 minutes to San Francisco," she said.

"Awesome," I said, throwing my case up onto the scales.

Within 15 minutes I was sat at the gate waiting to head out. I had to split the ticket between 2 credit cards as I was close to my limit on all of them. Damn band not making any money.

I texted Mikey, telling him what time I would be in San Francisco. I guess I'll have to rent a car and drive up to Sacramento.

I felt sick. My chest hurt. It was as if my heart was aching to know what was going on.

Gee can't be dead.

I boarded the plane. I was numb.

The journey barely registered.

The next thing I was really aware of was Mikey's strong arms wrapping around me in the airport in San Francisco.

"It will be OK Frankie," he said, rubbing my back.

"I just... I can't," I sobbed into his shoulder.

"I know," he said, I could feel his tears dripping onto my head.

"I'm so sorry I was such a jerk Mikey," I sobbed, squeezing him tighter.

"I was a jerk too Frank," he said.

"Let's get a car and go and sort this all out, OK?" he said, taking a deep breath.

I didn't want to let him go. Hugging Mikey like this reminded me of the last time I had been in Gerard's arms.

"You gotta let go Frank, we need to go," he said softly, a few moments later.

I let him go slowly and sniffed. I wiped my puffy face with the sleeves of my hoody, Gerard's hoody infact.

Renting the car and driving up to Sacramento was a blur. Mikey drove and I sat in the passenger seat and stared out at the world. The sun had fully risen now, but the day was still young.

"I think we're here," said Mikey slowly, checking the address against the one on his phone.

West Sacramento Mortuary.

I took a deep breath and got out of the car. I grabbed Mikey's hand.

"I-" began Mikey.

"Don't say anything Mikes, I'm sure it will be OK," I said, trying to hide the fact that my voice was trembling.

My knees were weak as we walked slowly to the door. It was locked. I peeked through the window, then tapped on it.

A few moments later a female police officer appeared.

"Mr Way?" she said, opening the door and looking at both of us.

"That's me," said Mikey.

"And this is?" she asked, gesturing at me.

"Gerard's partner," said Mikey shortly.

"Come through," she said, closing and locking the door behind us.

The room was white and sterile. My palms began to sweat profusely and my eyes welled up with tears. Mikey squeezed my hand. I could feel him trembling.

We followed the officer down a long corridor, with many white doors off it. She reached a door and opened it.

"I'll give you a moment to make your identification. I'll be right outside," she said, she didn't smile, she just nodded towards the door.

My heart began to pound in my chest, my stomach churned violently and my head was spinning. I could be just about to look at the dead body of the only person I have ever truly loved.

"Are you ready?" asked Mikey, his eyes full of tears.

"Let's go together," I said.

Neither of us moved towards the door.

I looked at Mikey, and our eyes met. We both understood that, no matter how much we didn't want to have to possibly see Gerard's dead body, that we couldn't grieve without knowing it was him, and we couldn't continue searching for him if we didn't know he was alive.

"Ready?" I said. Mikey blinked hard. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

I strode forward, into the room, dragging Mikey by the hand with me.

The room was cold. There was a steel trolley in the centre of the room. A man lay on the trolley, covered by a white sheet up as far as his waist. I slowly crept over, my eyes fixed on the body on the trolley.

The body was bloated, and almost as white as the sheet he was covered by.

Mikey let out a strangled sob. I looked closely at the man's face.

"That isn't Gerard," I sighed, relief flooding my body.

"Open your eyes Mikey, it isn't Gee," I said.

Mikey peeked his eyes open and sighed.

"You're right. There's no way that's Gerard," he said, grabbing me and hugging me tight.

"Lets go home Frankie," mumbled Mikey, as we hurried from the cold room.

"Negative?" asked the officer.

"That isn't him, definitely not."

"Sorry to have brought you all the way out here," she said, walking us back down the corridor towards the exit.

"Knowing he is still alive somewhere is completely worth the journey," I answered as she let us out.

I did a small dance for joy right there on the steps of the morgue.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Yelled Mikey into the air dramatically.

I grabbed him and hugged him, crying tears of happiness.

"Lets get some motherfucking coffee," sighed Mikey.

"I hear that," I agreed.

It only took us a few minutes driving around to find a Starbucks.

After parking the car we both practically skipped up to the door. I went for the door but it was flung open towards me, making me jump backwards.

A scruffy man with long unkempt black hair and a baseball cap barged past me, also knocking into Mikey.

"Well I'm sorry, excuse me," I said sarcastically. Mikey snickered.

I watched the man hurry away across the parking lot, clutching his coffee close to his chest.

The man had almost reached the other side of the parking lot when he turned and looked back.

Hazel eyes glimmered from under the brim of his hat, a familiar smirk on his face. He turned back around and kept on walking, nearly breaking into a run.

"Mikey!" I gasped, tugging on his arm, my eyes not leaving the quickly retreating back of the man.

"What Frank?" he said, still trying to walk into the coffee shop.

"I think that man.."

"Was rude?"

"Was Gerard," I said, before starting to run after him.

I broke into a sprint, just hoping I would be fast enough to catch him.