Gerard draws dicks for a living. Frank takes them. Gerard Way moves into a new apartment in a dodgy complex where he's bound to get beaten to a pulp after his old place is set on fire by those damned 'youths', and by a certain turn of events, his neighbour, the equally provocative, yet entirely in a different way, Frank Iero, ends up in his bed, and then, everything just really goes to shit.

Gerard Way meets a new guy in his school, and tries to guide him for the first few days. Of course, it all spirals downhill (and uphill!) from there.

not mine!!!!!!! creds go to SoloChaos on archive of our own just another copy of the forest fic make sure you have tissues

"Only douche bags wear sunglasses inside." "If I knew what one looked like, I might agree."

Frank Iero liked to prove people wrong, he proved his family wrong by going to college, he proved his professors wrong by finishing it- but he has never been able to prove himself wrong. So when he is offered a job to get him off the streets and out of the gutter he says 'Why not?' but will his closed off attitude clash with his boss? Gerard Way is an artist, the type of artist that is introvert and a coffee addict, an artist that lives and breathes his passion. But now he is lost in a world of black, he hates being poked and pushed by doctors and he had given up all hope of ever getting out of the consuming void he finds himself in. But with a new person in his life will he begin to see things a little more brighter, or will he be left broken hearted?

It's the lake in November, and the move closer to the ocean, and Gerard's fixation, and Gerard's compulsions like tidal waves dragging him down, and Mikey's more distant than ever: like they're drifting out into the middle of the ocean, whereas Gerard's just stuck there: water turning to quicksand around him, drowning. And it's the letter; Frank finds it on the floor of the boys' bathroom on the first floor. It's dropped in accident, perhaps from a pocket or something, and it's drenched in what Frank hopes is tap water, and the words: scrawled in blue ink are difficult to make out as the words join together in a fuzzy inky mess. The only paragraph legible is the final one, and even still, it barely is: 'I've been underwater for a long time now, but I'm not drowning, I'm beginning to think I can breathe like this, but I can't, I'm gasping for breath, and I have to do this, Mikey, I have to end this myself. I'm going to the lake on the 1st of November, don't wait for me... I'm not coming back.' And the name signed at the bottom is little more than a smudged mess of blue ink, and there's nothing Frank can do about it, but he knows for certain that the one thing he can't do is ignore this letter, and he reminds himself of that as he folds it into his pocket. It's a suicide note, Frank's stupid, but not stupid enough to brush over that fact, and whoever this person is, Frank knows that they most certainly don't deserve to die. And Frank isn't going to let them. Because he's going to find this person; he's got time now at least, and he can save them, he will save them - Frank promises himself that. But one person in a whole school, it's like a needle in a haystack, but he's got time, it's November 1st in thirty days, and he can only hope that it will be enough. He's got one month: the date is October 1st.