Frank was fucking tired: it was barely five in the morning, and not only was Frank awake, he hadn't even gone to sleep in the first place.

He had needed some time to himself to think, and it soon became painfully apparent that the aforementioned time had soon grown from a few minutes into a few hours, and maybe, Frank Iero didn't care nearly as much as he should have done.

The park was nice this early: quiet and almost devoid of all life itself, and Frank kind of needed the peace that brought him, because with what Bert had told him earlier- well, hours ago now, he needed to finally get his head to stop spinning, and start making some sense of anything at all.

Because everything was clouded and fucked up and torn with his hatred for Gerard: the lies and the murders and the mess and the fucking, and everything and how that still all meant far much more than it ever should, and then the fear - the absolute fear of truly losing the one person he was supposed to despise with everything he had.

It was ridiculous, and almost as if Frank's head was screwed on backwards, or simply not there at all, or something, which really probably even would have helped him here, because this was simply a battle of his heart and his head, and there seemed to be absolutely no hope for either of the two winning, and holy fuck, Frank hated nothing like he hated this limbo, and this nothingness, this emptiness, this headache.

Alone was good, but not now, fuck, right now, Frank needed someone more than ever, but what he really needed above all, was the guts to actually admit that to himself - never mind someone else, because that seemed like nothing more than a pipedream at this point, and it looked an awful lot like it was going to stay that way.

But then, Frank almost jumped out of his own skin as someone sat down beside him on the bench. 

"Frank." It only took one fucking word - the call of his name, for the nineteen year old to know everything about who he was dealing with here, because the stranger sat beside him wasn't a stranger at all, but god, Frank would have given anything for the person beside him to have been a stranger all along.

"Alex- fuck, I-" And as usual, Alex cut him off before he barely got a few words through his lips, leaving Frank wide eyed and utterly dumbstruck as to how Alex had made his way from New York and right onto this fucking bench in this fucking park with Frank fucking Iero, because just like this, with one word from him, memory of Alex had faded away as he stopped being unimportant and distant, and became far more real than Frank would ever care to admit, because if there was anything that Frank Iero wanted, it was for this whole fucking mess just to fade right away.

"I'm here to see you, Frank, not to fuck your life up - stop looking at me like you're scared of me, stop looking at me like you hate me... stop hating me. I'm your best friend, you care about me, don't you, Frankie?" Alex sighed out, grabbing Frank's hand as he spoke. "Come on, I know you do, even if you're back with Gerard, you still care."

"I'm not with Gerard." Frank snapped, and perhaps with just too much vigour, because maybe Frank was putting entirely too much effort into hating Gerard Way, because maybe, it was so fucking hard that Frank would even consider calling such a thing impossible.

"Oh, well, that's... unfortunate." Alex raised his eyebrows before turning away slightly and setting his gaze upon the horizon. "Tell me about it - what happened between the two of you?"

"We just... we just... I..." Frank stuttered, tripping over his words as he soon came to realise that there was no easy, simple way to convey the fact that Gerard Way had killed his parents and lied about everything to Frank from day one, and still, Frank was awkwardly and reluctantly in love with him, despite the fact that he'd never even consider admitting such a thing, even if it was the most obvious of truths.

"It was bad, wasn't it, Frankie? God, I told you about him, but you never fucking listen, do you? Now, come on, come here." And before Frank could even truly process what was happening, Alex was hugging him tight against his chest, and really, Frank couldn't help feel just a little weird like this. "You'll always be my best friend, Frank, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah..." Frank sighed out, pulling away with a shrug, because really, he was well aware of that fact, but as to whether he was at all happy about it was a different matter entirely, and not really one that he'd like to discuss with Alex.

"He was just using you, as like a fucktoy, you know that as well, don't you?" Alex put his arm around Frank, pulling the nineteen year old into his chest.

"I... uhm... I don't know about that... I-" Frank was unsure just how to go on from that, because there was one fucking clue answer here and that was that Alex was wrong, but Frank didn't reckon he had the guts to just flat out tell him that.

"I came all the way over here for you, Frank." Alex told him, grabbing Frank's hand, and leaving Frank to panic a little. "I came here because I care about you more than I care about anything else and you just don't seem to appreciate that, do you? He's fucking brainwashed you - that's what, and this is fucking stupid, Frank, you know that I'm who you can trust."

"You came here to get me back and you got lucky in the fact that I just happen to be single right now. That's what happened, Alex." And it soon became apparent that in the last ten seconds, Frank Iero had miraculously grown some balls. "It's not going to happen - I don't love you, and I don't care about you either. I don't want anything to do with you."

"You're in love with him, aren't you? You're still in love with him." Alex scoff, pulling away from the nineteen year old with a roll of his eyes. "You're fucking pathetic, you know that, don't you? You say you're over him but you're not, and you say you're over me, but you're not."

"Alex, shut the fuck up-" And with that, Alex slapped him, clean across the face, leaving Frank almost frozen in shock for a good few seconds.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Frank." Alex rolled his eyes, getting up with so much as a glance in Frank's direction, as he left the nineteen year old sat there, shaking in shock, but even if Frank was going to let him get away that easily, there was someone else who wasn't going to follow suit.

"You don't fucking slap him, you hear me?" Frank jumped at the sound of a second familiar voice, and he frozen for the second time as he watched Gerard step out of the shadows and grab Alex by the collar of his shirt. And really, despite the situation, Frank just couldn't help but wonder as to how Gerard had been sitting there, waiting in the shadows, just fucking watching him, and although that was some serious Edward Cullen shit, Frank couldn't help but feel honoured in some weirdass way.

"So you finally turned up to fight for your boyfriend, huh? Well, I've got to say, you're a little late. Gerard, isn't it?" Alex snapped, shoving Gerard away from him, only for the vampire to then slam him against a tree trunk, holding him down as he glared at him.

"Yeah, I'm Gerard, and you're going to fuck right off, Alex." Gerard snapped, absolutely ignoring every little brain cell that was advising him against being an awkward over-protective not quite boyfriend right now, for the sake of his sanity at the very least, because Frank Iero was something else entirely - the kind of something that he was more than prepared to completely fuck himself up for it.

"Gerard-" Frank finally managed to get a word from his lips, standing up and making his way over to the two of them. "Don't hurt him." He pleaded: voice weak and generally unconvincing, but Gerard's soft spot for Frank Iero was proven to be his one weakness once again, as the vampire pulled away from Alex, even if he never did stop glaring at him.

"He fucking slapped you - I can't let that happen. No one's allowed to hurt you, Frank- well, maybe I am, but then that's only when you consent to it-"

"Yet you were fine with k-... you know what, huh?" Frank snapped, rolling his eyes at Gerard. "I fucking hate you, remember that, and beating up my ex-boyfriend isn't going to help your case in the slightest."

"Am I allowed to beat him up?" Alex piped up, gesturing to Gerard and smirking like the world's biggest asshole.

"No you're not." Frank shook his head, exhaling loudly. "I don't want to date either of you - please just fuck off, the both of you- look, if you're both just pathetic, desperate singles, then hey, maybe you should just date each other- I don't fucking care, just leave me alone!"

"Whatever, see you soon, Frankie." And with that, Alex flashed Frank the world's most unnerving smirk before stepping back into the shadows and fucking disappearing.

"Wait- what?" Frank exclaimed, utterly dumbstruck and blinking at the spot that Alex had stood in, almost as if he expected him to suddenly appear back there, but no such thing happened.

"Seems like I'm not the only one who lied to you, Frank." Gerard sighed out, biting down on his bottom lip as he struggled to keep calm about what he'd just seen, because regardless of the circumstance, there was absolutely no way that this could ever be a good thing, at all.

"I can't deal with this." Frank shook his head, turning away and trying not to immediately freak the fuck out. "My head's fucking spinning and I just can't focus because I can't even get a moment of thought to myself without some asshole turning up and spoiling everything- and how long, just how fucking long were you stood there watching me?"

"Couple of hours now." Gerard admitted with an awkward shrug. "I wanted to make sure that you were okay, and it really does seem like you needed me there, doesn't it?"

"He just slapped me, Gerard, that's nothing." Frank protested, rolling his eyes and walking away, only for Gerard to grab him by the hand and pull him back. "Gerard, fuck off, I-"

"It's not nothing to me, because fuck, Frank, I care about you, and I'm so fucking sorry, and I want to make this work, I really do, Frank, I really fucking do-" And Gerard was stubborn as hell and there was no better proof than this, and really, Frank was moments away from just forgiving him because Gerard was his soft spot, and there was absolutely no way around that, not even persistent denial, which Frank was getting rather good at right now, actually.

"Well, I don't." Frank shook his head, pulling away once again. "You can't do this and we can't work, because I can't trust you and I hate you- fuck I'm supposed to hate you, but still I can't even manage to do that, because I'm stuck with this feeling sorry for you bullshit and it's driving me crazy, because it's not even realistic and I shouldn't care about you at all because you're just an asshole, but I- fuck, I can't help myself, and goddamn, I still can't hate you for that."

"Why do you feel sorry for me?" Gerard asked, eyes growing wide, leaving Frank's jaw to drop about a million metres as he came to the realisation that he'd just let slip a certain piece of information relating to the vision that Bert had relayed to him a few hours prior.

And Frank knew that he should most definitely tell Gerard, especially when it so seriously affected him personally, and then with the fact that Bert tended to be right about this things, somehow, it was spooky as hell, but definitely kind of useful, but still, Frank just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Nothing. No reason. It doesn't matter - just go."

"Frank-"

"Fucking go!"

-

"I know you slept with him." Ray, Mikey, and Pete stood alone in Bob Bryar's kitchen, engaged what was probably the least pleasurable conversation known to mankind. "It's obvious, Mikey, don't even try to lie - I can see it, and I wish I couldn't, and I wish I could just wish this all away, but I can't and you know that- and it's not like this is the first time, is it?"

"Ray, please-" Mikey begged out, shaking his head and biting down on his bottom lip in a not exactly successful attempt to hold back his tears, but he was trying at least, and that was what should have counted. "Please, can we just talk about this civilly, and we just fucking think about this and sort it out, instead of letting everything fall apart, again- Ray, you didn't come back just to waste that all again, and I can't- I just can't lose you again, you know that, don't you?"

"Then you should have stayed away from him." Ray pointed in Pete's direction, narrowing his eyes at Mikey. "Anyway, it wasn't my choice to be turned into a fucking cold, apathic asshole of a vampire, was it? In fact, I had absolutely no say in the matter whatsoever, so there's absolutely no way that you can make this my fault - got it?"

"You only didn't get a say because you were dead - you couldn't have provided an opinion if you wanted to! Ray, I would have let you make the choice if you could have done, I promise, but in that situation, I had no choice - it was saving you or losing you and I picked the choice that makes sense to me!"

"Maybe you should have just left me dead: that was how I should have stayed, and you know it, but you were being selfish again, like you're being selfish with everything and like you're being selfish with Pete, because he hasn't had a single say in this whatsoever, despite the fact that it very much involves him as well, and that's ridiculous, Mikey, you know that, and you know just how much of an asshole you're being."

"Fine, what the fuck do you want me to do, Ray?" Mikey lost it right then and right there, resorting to downright screaming at Ray. "There's nothing I can do, and you just don't seem to realise that - this is fucked, get over it! And don't waste your second chance, you should be just a little grateful to me, at the very least, don't you think?"

"I don't have to do or be anything, especially anything that you tell me." Ray rolled his eyes, pulling away from Mikey. "We were done the first time, and bringing me back to life didn't change that at all, did it? And I bet my whole damn resurrected life that you fucked Pete at least once while I was dead - I'm better off not being here, aren't I? You don't need me, Mikey, and that's more than fucking clear-"

"Ray, please, I can promise you that he never stopped thinking about you - he visited the record store everyday and just sat there for hours - for you!" Pete pleaded, standing up for the person he loved, but standing up for them in a manner that would increase the chances of their ex-boyfriend taking them back, and really in this situation, Pete could either be incredibly stupid or incredibly kind, and Ray couldn't help but suspect the former.

"Good for him." Ray snorted, rolling his eyes. "Fucking glad that you feel guilty, and I hope you're fucking glad that you killed me, even if I wasn't the intended target in the first place. You know how I died, Pete? No, of course you don't- he poisoned some wine that was supposed to be for you, but I was the one who ended up drinking it, so I ended up dying instead of you." 

And in the jaw dropping silence that he'd created, Ray grinned. "I expect a thank you, Wentz."

And with that, Ray Toro made his way out of the room and left Bob Bryar's house, and unbeknownst to any of the three, never to return again.

-

"Mikey, please- tell me he's fucking with us!" Pete begged out, practically screaming at this point: his face tearstained and his fingers curled tightly around Mikey's, as he held onto the vampire as if he had the intentions of never ever letting go.

"Pete, I-" Mikey stopped, his words almost freezing in his throat, and fuck, suddenly he felt as sick as fuck, and god, he was going to hurl all over Pete if he didn't manage to calm himself down within the next five seconds.

Thankfully, he did, and managed to gather his composure and look Pete Wentz in the eye, and tell him the truth: the fucking destructive, life ruining truth, but the truth nonetheless. "He's right."

And Pete was silent for entirely too long: at first he couldn't even believe what he was hearing, in fact, he didn't want to, and god, his head was spinning like he was condemned to spend the rest of his life tied to some sort of sadistic, murderous carousel.

"He's right." Pete repeated, shaking his head and backing away from Mikey, utterly disgusted at the guy before him, and suddenly unable to recognise just what he'd ever seen in Mikey Way in the first place. "He's right about you. You're selfish, and you're cold, and you're cruel, and you're arrogant, and I hate you, and I'm going to leave now as well, because fuck you, Mikey, fuck you!"

"Pete, please, let me fix this - let me explain-" Mikey cried out, grabbing the eighteen year old by his arm and pulling him back to meet his gaze. "I didn't want to have to kill you, I didn't want to have to kill Ray - I didn't want to kill anyone. Gerard manipulated me, basically, you can even ask him, he'll be arrogant enough about it to just confess it to you, but please, Pete, please, believe me... I... I... love you..."

"You shouldn't- Mikey you shouldn't have said that-" Pete shook his head firmly, continuing to back away, but this time, Mikey let him, giving up inside, because maybe, he would just have to accept that Pete Wentz was one of things he was going to lose in life, much like Ray Toro, and despite his continuous efforts.

"I did, and I meant it, I meant it." Mikey promised him, never pulling his gaze away from Pete's. "I'm sorry, and I love you. Please."

"I need to think about this: it's fucked up and you know it."

"I know." Mikey sighed out, shaking his head. "I love you, though."

"I know."

- 

Hey guys:) more traumatic plot lmao, also only three chapters left after this one, but i know what I'm writing after this and i think you'll like it tbh;) votes and comments would be super cool!!! i love you all<3