Bulletproof Heart (Teacher/Student Frerard)

Dead Friend

Gerard's POV

"He wasn't been talking for the past couple of days." I said to Jason, taking a deep breath as I adjusted my black tie. Today was Saturday, the day of the funeral.

"Why, what happened?"

"I don't think that's my place to say." I heard the sound of him trying to light a cigarette for the fifth time.

"And what about you? How have you been doing?" He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm okay." I leaned on the countertop, looking closely at the pill I was trying to break in fourths. I took a small fourth of the white oval pill, sighing softly as I put the rest back in the pill bottle.

"You usually take the whole thing."

"I'm trying to stop taking them." Jason looked a little surprised.

I saw Frank's reflection in the mirror, and he stood beside me.

"Hey, sugar." I said softly. "Your suit looks nice."

"Thank you." Frank's voice was hoarse, like he was in desperate need of some water. There was a cigarette dangling from his lips, and he exhaled smoke through his nose.

"You're talking. That's good. Are you feeling okay?" Frank shrugged.

"I don't know." I stopped putting on my eyeliner and looked down at him.

"Well, you're able to walk, so that's good. Any, uh, any pain?"

"My back hurts a lot." He said after a few minutes, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Where at?" Frank slowly started to unbutton his shirt, tossing it on the floor.

He pointed to a red mark on his back.

"I'll get you some medicine later."

Frank put his top back on.

"Yes, everyone just walk up in the bathroom when I'm just trying to put on makeup." I put my waterproof eyeliner in a drawer.

"Love you too, Gee." Mikey said, standing in the doorway. I fixed his tie, ruffling his hair.

|-/

"Father Reynolds." I shook the priest's hand.

"Gerard, it's been a while. How are you doing? And who's this?" I took off my dark sunglasses, putting them in my hair.

"Um, I'm doing okay. And, uh.." I turned to Frank, who extended his hand to Father Reynolds.

"Franklin Anthony Thomas Iero Jr., Father Reynolds. Pleasure to meet you." They shook hands, Father Reynolds beaming.

"Franklin." I said to myself, chucking.

"Iero. That name sounds familiar. Are you.. Linda's son?" His face softened as he looked at Frank.

"Yes." I guess sudden realisation crossed Father Reynolds face as to why he was leaning on my arm.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Would you like to talk? My doors are wide open." He looked at me, and I removed my arm from around his shoulder.

"Sure. Why not." Frank walked with Father Reynolds into the confessional, and I sat down in one of the pews.

|-/

"20."Frank said with a chuckle, limping slightly as he sat down beside me.

"20 Hail Mary's?" I turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.

"Twenty Hail Mary's, yes."

"That's surprising. The repast is at my mom's. We can go if you'd like. I can show you my old room."

|-/

"You're a vegetarian, right?" Frank nodded as we walked into the kitchen.

My mom smacked my hand as I reached for some food.

"Mom, just let me get something, alright? He's shaking." She sighed, tossing a bottle of apple juice.

"This'll benefit him more than that food will." I gave him the bottle, and we left the kitchen.

Frank was still limping.

"So, my room is down here in the basement." I led him down some stairs, opening the door.

"This is the only amount of outside light I get in this room." I pointed to a small window.

"Your room is cute." He looked around, examining the art that I had tacked up on the wall.

"Thank you." I stroked his cheek with my thumb, examining his face.

"Gerard, who's this?" The door was opened, and my father stood in the doorway. I took my hand away, stepping away from Frank.

He went to shake my father's hand.

"I'm Frank Iero, sir."

"You're limping. You're hurt." He announced, and Frank nodded.

"Indeed I am."

"Why are you hurt?"

"My mother hits me." Frank replied harshly, though I didn't think it was intended.

"Well why didn't you hit her back?"

"I'm sorry, I have more than a shred of respect in my body and I know that it's not okay to hit women. Or anyone." Frank snapped, and my dad looked over at me.

"Is this your, uh-"

"Frank is my boyfriend, dad."

"....okay. Well, food is done, everyone's coming soon. Just, be safe, alright?" My dad closed the door, and I heard him go back up the stairs.

Frank pecked my lips, taking a sip of his apple juice.

"Does your door have a lock? Like, at all? How many times have you been caught?" I chuckled, looking down.

"I think my family members just steer clear of my room if there's moaning. This room.. might echo if you're, uh, if you're loud."

"Interesting." I took his hand, opening the door.

"Let's go eat, hm?"

|-/

"Gerard, you need to eat. Like, more than small bites. Please." Frank looked at me, and I shrugged.

"I'm just not that hungry, Frankie." He took the fork out of my hand, twirling the spaghetti and placing it in front of my face.

"Come on, Gee." Grumbling, I took the fork and ate the rest of my food, shoving my plate away from me.

"I just can't believe she's gone. Like, really. She's.. she's the reason that I got started with everything. She was my inspiration, honestly." I leant back, staring at the ceiling.

"My dad was the reason I started playing guitar. He had an old one laying around, and he decided to teach me how to play." That was the first time Frank had actually given me some insight about his father.

The door opened, and Mikey stepped in.

"Sorry. Um, mom says for you to come up and eat something besides spaghetti. And she has some Tylenol for Frank, something about him limping?" I nodded, standing up.

"I like that your mom makes you eat. That's good." Frank stood up after me, and we both went upstairs.

a/n: sorry, this is shorter. it's sort of a filler but sorta not?? idk. i love you guys, okay?

xojay