"How the fuck did these get leaked?!" Frank seethed.
On Twitter, he and Gerard had been tagged. A post showed a picture.
In the photo, Gerard weakly laid under mounds of blankets, hair in his face and eyes closed. Slumped in a chair by him, Frank slept. They were connected by Frank grasping Gerard's hand.
Gerard looked so sick. He was so pale and his hair was visibly thin. He was hooked up to a cannula that supplied him with oxygen and was severely atrophied.
Frank hated it.
Ray looked up. "I didn't post anything, but I took a picture when you two were sleeping. It just...I got sentimental."
"You didn't post it?" Frank got worried.
Cell phone hack?
More pictures appeared.
This picture made Frank furious. He knew Mikey had taken it, but he didn't want it shared.
In this, Gerard was laying on Frank's chest. He was crying. He was so vulnerable. So weak.
"It hurts." He would mumble.
Frank huffed angrily.
"Do they think this is fucking funny?!"
Gerard whimpered in his sleep.
"Shh, calm down. You'll wake him up." Ray sat him down.
"Frank." Gerard whispered.
"I'm here. Everyone's here." Frank soothed.
"Why... You're crying?" He opened his eyes a bit.
"I'm not crying." He lied, wiping his tears.
"Yeah, you are." His eyes slipped shut as he coughed harshly.
"Shh, Gee. Shh..." Mikey eased him onto his back.
Gerard loosely clasped a hand around Frank's stripe-clad arm, begging him to stay close.
"Frank, when was the last time you ate? Showered? Took a nap?" A voice pled.
"Ray, he needs me."
"He'd understand." Mikey's voice was soft. "He'd want you to take care of yourself. I need you to go take a shower and eat something. Then, you'll come back here and lay down and take a nap."
"I can't leave him." Frank felt Gerard's loose, icy grip slip off as he fell back asleep.
"Please. If he were lucid, he'd want you to take care of yourself." Ray convinced.
He gently lifted Gerard's frail arm off his lap, setting it back on the bed.
He slowly stood, leading Gerard to wake up. "Uh..." He groaned, trying to grab Frank's arm. "No...no..."
"I'll be right back, honey." He kissed his husband's forehead.
After a shower, some food, and a good cry, Frank fell asleep with Gerard's thin body on his chest surrounded by friends. He felt much safer than he had in years.
Gerard was at a low point months ago. He couldn't form sentences very well and had several tics.
When a fan cornered him, things got awkward.
"Hey," They'd start. "Are you Gerard Way?"
It'd take him awhile to respond. "Yeah."
He'd sit crookedly in that fucking wheelchair with his hair in his face. He had no clue where he was half the time or what was going on.
"Can I have your autograph?" They'd ask.
"Uh, sure."
But then he'd get the piece of paper and forget some vital information.
How to spell his name.
He'd hold the pen in his heavily shaking hand and sigh.
"Frank, sign first?" He'd mumble.
Frank would sign the the paper and at the bottom, in tiny letters, he'd spell Gerard's name.
G-E-R-A-R-D W-A-Y
Then Gerard would sign the paper and smile.
Like nothing was wrong.
Keep smiling.
