Random Frerard Fluff [ONE SHOTS] [COMPLETED]

Cancer

AU FIC

TW - extensive mentions of cancer and themes of loss.

A note to my younger self

February 23rd had never meant anything to you before today. You didn't know anyone with a birthday on that day, nor did any special events take place. To you, the 23rd was just another day of winter ending. Marking another few months of shit New Jersey weather. What was different about it? You couldn't have known. How could you have?

Just you wait, buddy.

Here's how you described the day in your diary:

It was a knock at the door which started everything. I was inside playing my Playstation, when the harsh sound of pounding against the pine of my door struck. The knocks were repetitive and urgent. Instantly, I knew something was up. But I didn't expect that it had anything to do with me. It was probably just my father, drunk and pathetic, desperately begging for my mother's forgiveness... again.

"Frank, honey," Mom called in tiredly from the kitchen as I shook this thought away, "could you answer that please?"

I groaned in annoyance, pausing my game and thrusting my controller to the floor. I pushed myself out of my bean bag, sprawling myself in a heap on the floor, and cursing when the insistent knocks continued. I managed to get up finally, sauntering for the door.

I never would have expected to see Mikey slumped on my doorstep. You see, Mikey and I had never really been close, so this meant that something was most definitely up. And it wasn't just the fact that he was there. It was what he looked like. His whole appearance screamed distress. His face was red and puffy, stained and shiny from the tears rolling down his cheeks behind his skewed glasses. He was puffed, as if he'd run here, but from where, I didn't know. He lived in a whole different part of town.

For a moment we merely stared at each other, before I did the only thing I knew to do. I let him crash into my arms, holding him close and tight, like a mother. He sobbed and stumbled as I struggled to manoeuvre us to the living room couch.

I didn't know what to say, so I just didn't say anything. I knew he'd be able to talk on his own soon enough. I patted his knee awkwardly, hoping to give him some sort of odd solace.

"What is-" my Mom began as she stepped into the room, confused, and I quickly hushed her; ushering her out of the room. She nodded understandingly, and made her way to her bedroom.

Eventually, a short time later, Mikey's racking sobs started to subside, replaced by shuddering gasps which soon evened out into calm, slow breaths.

"Wow," he said finally, looking up at me. "I'm a real mess, huh?"

"Fuck yeah you are, dude," I chuckled fondly. Mikey smiled weakly.

"But there's nothing like an Iero hug to make you all better," he said quietly. I knew this was his way of saying thank you.

I flopped down on the couch next to him, and held his stare steadily.

"So. You wanna talk about it?"

Mikey fingered a hole in the couch material and made an affirmative sound in the back of his throat.

"Yeah," he said, simply.

---

Gerard has terminal cancer.

Gerard has terminal cancer.

Gerard has terminal cancer.

Whatever it was that I had mentally prepared myself for, it sure wasn't that. It felt like someone had dropped rocks into the bottomless pit of my stomach, and they were going to continue falling into eternity. I was devestated.