The Man I Know I'm Not [Frerard] (Sequel To Tell Me I'm A Bad Man)

Twenty-five - Things Have Changed

[No A/N at the end, epilogue up soon!]

"I want to go home."

Gerard froze, his mug of coffee halfway to his lips. "Huh?"

"I want to go home, as in...I want to go to my mom's house."

He frowned. "Why?"

"Because...I just do. I want to move back in with my mom for a while until I sort myself out with a job and an apartment of my own."

His mug slowly lowered, his face falling. "Oh."

Maybe he got it straight away, maybe he didn't. All the same, he finished his coffee and took our stuff out to the car.

I'd barely slept at all for the past five nights, even with Gerard's slow and soothing breathing beside me. We'd been out to dinner, had sex in the bed, in the shower, in the car at one point, and we'd been shopping - and I loved him, but it didn't feel quite...right. You know when you truly love someone, but the relationship doesn't feel the way it used to? It's a complicated emotion, and it hurts. I'd accidentally made myself sick last night, worrying and thinking about it.

The journey back to Jersey was silent, and Gerard barely let up his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. We ended up, not at my mom's house, but outside the cemetery in which Ryan and my father were buried.

"I'm going to take a walk." He said, his voice shaking. "You do what you want."

He left the car, heading through the gates and up the path. I followed, but went the opposite way, towards Ryan's grave. The cemetery was quiet and warm, and I found myself wishing I'd left my jacket in the car. There were flowers on almost every grave I passed, messages from loved ones or acquaintances or even complete strangers. Young, old, somewhere in the middle...you don't know it will happen until it happens, I guess.

There was someone already at Ryan's grave when I got there, and that someone was Brendon.

"Hey." I said, approaching him. He looked up, smiling despite the tears in his eyes.

"Hey, Frank." He said, before patting the space beside him. "You here on your own, or...?"

I shook my head, sitting down. "Gerard's around here somewhere, but, uh, things aren't good between us right now."

He didn't ask why, nor did he act like he was surprised. He simply nodded slowly before giving my hand a squeeze. "It'll be okay, no matter what you decide to do."

"But it hurts, and it'll hurt even more, no matter what I decide."

"Only for a little while. Everything hurts less after a little while, unless you choose to submerge yourself in the memories and continue to hurt yourself." He exhaled, glancing at the slab of black marble, and he twisted his fingers together. He raised a hand and pushed his hood back, running it through his hair. "God, this is fucking weird." He said, breathing a laugh. My fingers reached out to brush against the cold gravestone as I nodded. "Fuck..." He repeated, rubbing his palm against his knee. "Fuck."

"Fuck." I agreed, smiling the tiniest bit.

"I'm never gonna be used to waking up without him." He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of Ryan's favorite scarves, holding it in both hands and lifting it to his nose and mouth. "Ever. Even if I...marry someone else...I just..." His lower lip trembled and his eyes filled with tears. "Never mind."

I took his hand, just as I had at the funeral. "It's gonna be okay." I promised.

"Just as it will be for you." He smiled, even though tears ran down his pale face, and I wiped them away with my free hand. "Have you made a decision?"