So Long and Good Night

"Hello? Gerard?" I heard his voice whine through the phone speaker. I slowly let it slip out of my grasp, falling with a light thud to the top of my bed.

It's cancer is all I could hear as my stomach dropped out of my body and my breath caught in my closing throat. A dryly choked sob leaked from my mouth as my body started heaving, crying with not a single tear to be found.

"Mr. Way, I need you to come back in within the week so we can discuss." Dr. Smith whispered before the call ended with the distinct click.

It's cancer. It's cancer. It's cancer. It's Fucking Cancer! My mind screamed. I felt the salty burning well up behind my eyes. I was too afraid to let it go, I knew Frank would be walking in and second and--

Frank

How could I possibly tell him? I told him we would be together forever and no I find out I'm going to die?! It will break his fragile heart. But I have to tell him.

"Hey Gee." He smiled, walking through the door. I snapped my head up to look at him. Big mistake.

"Oh my God, what's wrong." he asked, the concern smothering his words. He knelt down next to me.

"N-nothing. I...We'll talk about it later. Okay?" I forced a smile, roughly wiping the tears form my eyes.

"O-okay." his voice shook with its hesitant reply.

"Everything's fine." I lied. God I need to stop doing that. Especially to him. "C'mon, let's start getting you moved in." I stand up and open the box that was thrown on my bed.

Frank stood next to me and pulled shirts from the box, unfolding them and slipping hangers into the collars.

"Did you order a pizza? I'm starving." he finally asked, breaking the intense silence.

"Oh, No. I got...distracted. I'm sorry. I'll go order now." I faked a smile and turned towards the doorway.

"Just a plain pepperoni please."

"Coming right up." I walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

"Shit." I cursed under my breath. My cell was still on my bed. I walked back to my bedroom and grabbed it quickly.

"Well don't look so happy, sunshine." Frankie chuckled, poking me in the arm.

What? Oh, sorry. I'm just tired I guess." He nodded and I went back into the kitchen. turned my hone on and opened my text messages. Clicking on my conversation with Mikey, I started typing.

Me: Mikes, we need to talk. It's important.

Typing...

Mikey: Okay, Dude. You can come by the house later tonight.

Me: Thanks.

With that I felt the tears burning under my eyes once again. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked over to the side of the refrigerator. There was a magnet that had the number to a local pizza place printed on it.

"Hello, this is Tony's Pizzeria, Jessica speaking. How may I help you this evening."

"I'll take an extra large pepperoni."

"Alright, delivery for the sir?"

"Yes. I'm on Fourth Avenue. Parksin Apartments. I'm in 8-C on the top floor."

"Alright sir, we'll have that to you in under 30 minutes. You have a nice night."

I could feel her fake smile through the phone as I hung up. God I hated those kind of people.

"Hi there, Geester." Frank smiled walking through the doorway.

"Oh hi. Did I ever tell you how much I hate people in fast food?" I asked, slinking my arms around his waist.

"No, I don't think you've brought it up."

"Then, I just did. I hate people in fast food with a passion." I weakly smiled.

"Well, to kill some time, why don't we have a question session? Seeing as we only know the basics about each other." Frank smiled backing away from me and into the living room.

"Okay." I agreed, joining him on the couch. ''Kay, your idea. You go first."

"What's you favorite color?"

"Really, you ask me that?"

"What, I don't know." he chuckled defensively.

"If you must know, my favorite colors are black and red. What about you?"

"A softish pink."

"Christ you're gay." he blushed.

"What is your full name?"

"Gerard Arthur Way." I smiled. I always hated my middle name. "What's your's Fun Ghoul?"

"Frank Anthony Iero."

The stereotypical questions were shot back and forth until we just ran out of them. Frank finally broke the silence with a quite unexpected question.

"Do you want any kids?" he asked. I tried to catch a bluff, but his expression read nothing but serious.

"Um, I never really thought about it. Though I have always loved the name Bandit for a little girl."

"I want a little girl. And I wanna name her Scarrlett Harper." He smiled, looking down and fiddling with the hem of his shirt."

"Honestly, I think that's adorable that you wanna be a dad." I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand.

"Well, I wanna be a dad with you. I think It would be perfect." Frank smiled, looking down with a shy blush.

All I could do was chuckle. "God. You are so fucking cute when you blush like that."

"Oh shut up!" he yelped, his face turning a shade darker.

"So. You know my favorite colors, my full name, that I eat weird fuckin' foods, the fact that I hate cows, I'm afraid of needles, I fear death, and that one day I might want to have a kid with you. Anything else your curious little brain wants to know about me?" I smiled, letting my head fall back. That's when I remembered what I had to tell him and my stomach dropped.

"i just wanna know everything. All your secrets.' Frank smiled, rubbing my hand lightly with his thumb. "Like, tell me what had you upset earlier."

I felt the familiar burning behind my eyes as tears were already sliding down my cheek.

"I-I...I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. I promise I'll be right here with you."

I nodded slightly. "When you were getting clothes, Dr. Smith called me. He said when they sent me in for the full body scan, they found a tumor in my brain." I saw his features grow heavy as he looked at me. "They took some blood and ran some tests...everything thing came back fine except one.." I trailed off, my voice being over taken by the sobs escaping my lips.

Frank pulled me in close, his hand falling flat against the back of my head as I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

"Frankie." I finally managed to whisper. "I...I h-have cancer."

***

FRANK'S P.O.V

The word 'cancer' hung in the air with such a weight I though it would bring my whole world crashing down.

I slowly pulled away from Gerard's shuttering body. He kept his head down as my lips gently touched his forehead before I rose from the couch and walked out the door.

All I could hear running through my mind was Cancer. Cancer Cancer Cancer.

"No." I thought to myself, "It can't be. Gerard is perfectly healthy. This is just a bad dream, like the car accident. Just a bad fucking dream." But I knew I was fully in reality.

That's when I started falling.

I stumbled through the front door of my apartment. I had one thing one my mind and one things only. I trudged into my bathroom, tears rolling in fat drops down my cheeks.

I tugged open the top drawer to my right side and instantly saw the blade, coated in dry, flaky blood. I picked it up, my breath quivering and held out my wrist, littered in scars. I took the razor and rubbed off the dry blood from the last time I used it before lowering it to my pale skin, pressing in a neat line across my wrist. The crimson blood dripping down my hand, dotting the sink with red. I repeated this step over and over again, slicing open old scars and new skin. I was about to go in one last time, when I heard a muffled sobv come from the doorway. I snapped my head around to see Gerard standing in the doorway, his hand over his mouth and his cheeks tear-stained.

"Gerard..I-I...I c-can explain!" I sobbed, the razor still in my hand.

"Just....just put down the blade. And never, EVER pick it up again. You hear me? I know things have taken a turn for the worse, but nothing is worth hurting yourself over. I'm not going anywhere Frankie." his hoarse voice whispered, snatching the blade from my hand and pulling my into a hug so tight I though I was going to suffocate. In the good way.

"Nothing is worth hurting yourself over Frank. You hear me? Fucking nothing." he whispered into my head, tears running down both of our faces.