My Angel (Frerard)

15: My Angel

Frank's POV

"Guys, we need to get him out of the bathroom," Brendon sighed, putting a cigarette to his lips. Ryan hadn't bugged him about it yet, but that's probably because Brendon's stressed out. "We need to get him to talk."

"Does anyone know why he's upset?" Pete asked, sighing out and taking a sip of his water.

"It's because he said that he loved me and I got shocked," I piped up, all eyes on me now. "He thought I didn't love him, and he wouldn't let me say anything once I was out of shock. I do love him. He just wouldn't give me a chance."

"My god, I just wish he wasn't so stubborn," Patrick sighed, grabbing his phone and checking the time.

"Yeah," Mikey agreed, cuddling up next to Pete. His black eye had already faded, but I think Patrick was considering giving him another one for rubbing it in Patrick's face that he has Pete and Patrick doesn't.

"How long has he been in there again?" Bob chimed in, surprising everyone, because Bob is usually quiet. I checked the date on my phone: March 22nd.

"Fifteen days," I answered, remembering it like it was yesterday. I stared at the background on my phone: Gerard and I, a collage of us. There was pictures of us kissing, smiling, hugging, everything. I sighed and pocketed my phone.

"Oh," Bob said, picking up his phone and doing something.

"It's my fault he won't come out," I sobbed, breaking down again. Ray came over to me and hugged me tight, comforting me. It felt nice.

"No it isn't," Ray sighed, rubbing small circles on my back. "Don't blame yourself, Frankie, okay? It's not your fault."

"He probably hates me now!" I cried, curling up next to Ray. I sobbed into his chest for about five minutes, before Bob spoke up.

"Well, you love him, right?" Bob asked, putting away his phone. I nodded, looking at him like everything he was saying was gospel.
"Then go tell him. Prove it to him."

Why the fuck haven't I thought of that?! I nodded quickly before jumping up and running to the bathroom door. I knocked lightly on it.

"Gerard," I said, sniffling a little. I wiped away my tears and knocked again. "Gerard, I- I wanted to tell you that... That I love you."

Silence. No note either.

"Gerard, please talk to me?" I tried again, knocking on the door once more. "Please? I love you. Please let me in."

It then clicked in my head. I could pick the fucking lock!

I ran back out into the living room, walking over to Lindsey. "Let me see your Bobbi pin," I said, holding out my hand. She looked at me, confused. "Just do it, please." She took it out of her hair and handed it to me. "Thank you."

I ran back to the bathroom, sticking the pin in the lock. I fucked around with it until I finally got it unlocked. I opened the door.

...

Oh my god.

I didn't expect to see what was before my eyes:

Gerard, pale as a ghost, lifeless, cold and stiff looking. Blood in the bathtub. Empty pill bottle on the floor beside the tub. Paper on the countertop.

I stood there in shock for a moment, looking at the scene. Tears began rolling down my cheeks.

I ran over to him, pulling him up a little, and I leaning into the tub, clutching his cold, skinny, lifeless body. I began to sob hard.