Famous Last Words || FRERARD

Epilogue

Frank screamed. He screamed and cried and cradled Gerard's shell of a body in his arms.

He visited Gerard's house for his funeral. Mikey was dressed in all black, eyeliner already running like crazy. Pete was there, his arm around Mikey practically the whole time. Donna Way was nowhere to be found. Donald Way didn't get a funeral.

Frank spent most of the funeral away from everyone, though. He didn't want to talk about it. Simple as that. About how much he loved Gerard, how they were still dating when he died, how they were soulmates. He didn't want to talk about how Gerard shot himself in front of Frank. He honestly didn't think he ever would. He spent most of the time in Gerard's room, as much as it hurt. He lay in Gerard's bed, trying to cry, but effectively feeling nothing. He looked over to Gerard's wall, frowning at the sheet that was taped across it. That didn't used to be up there. Frank got up to investigate, walking over and carefully taking it down. That prompted the waterworks of course, because he didn't expect to see himself all over Gerard's wall. Not in photographs, like in a stalk-ish way, but in drawings.

It was every drawing of Frank that Gerard had ever done for that stupid art project, the one that Frank had never even fucking finished. There was easily fifty of them, all in different styles but all...him. All of them captured him so well. In some, he smiled. In some, he wept. In all, though, he could see just how much Gerard had truly loved him, and it hurt more than a thousand gunshot wounds. It hurt more than shooting himself in the head, he imagined.

He'd never finished that stupid art project. He'd never even finished that fucking song he was working on for Gerard. Famous Last Words. What a cheesy title. But that didn't fucking matter anyway, becuase he'd never get to play it for Gerard. Gerard would never make fun of Frank's cheesy title either. Because he's dead.

Well, better late than never.

"Now I know that I can't make you stay. But where's your heart? But where's your heart?" Frank said softly, humming along to the tune in his head. He was missing a few words here and there, seeing as he couldn't remember all of it, but whatever. Gerard doesn't fucking care. Or at least Frank hoped. "So many bright lights that cast a shadow. But can I speak? Well, is it hard understanding I'm incomplete? A life that's so demanding, I get so weak. A love that's so demanding, I can't speak" Frank's heart skipped a few beats as he just gave in to the noise inside his head, full-on rocking out to the song. Why shouldn't he? Frank's entire fucking world just shot himself! Why shouldn't he dance like an idiot in his dead boyfriend's room? The world is over. Over. So why the fuck not?

"I am not afraid to keep on living. I am not afraid to walk this world alone. Honey, if you stay, I'll be forgiven. Nothing you can say can stop me going home!"

"Frank?" Mikey called, walking into Gerard's room and giving the dancing boy a confused look. But Frank just laughed and grabbed Mikey by the hand to the center of the room.

"Come on, man! Dance with me!"

"There's no music playing."

"Yeah, there is! Just listen to it in your head! Can't you hear it? It's fuckin' kick-ass!" He laughed, and a concerned Mikey wrapped him in a hug, the laughter dissolving into tears as sobs wracked Frank's body. And he whispered the words to himself, over and over because fuck, his mind was reeling and his heart just couldn't fucking take it anymore.

"Fuck you."

"I love you too."