Hi again. 

I'm kinda like, slowly collecting MCR album themed shoes. I have a pair of high top Converse (the kind with the thick tongues and short laces) and they're black but the lining is dark red and the laces are gray, so that would be Revenge, and then I just got the bright red ones that are the same color as Party Poison's hair, so those are my Danger Days ones, and then I need black and white ones for TBP, and... I'm not really sure what for Bullets.

So anyway, this is a continuation of the last one, and the next one will be a continuation of this one.

TW for the same type of self harm trigger as before, no doing of self harm, but direct evidence. Guilt over relapsing, self-harm recovery. Also, like, blood loss, and hospitals, and stuff that comes along with that.

 The happy one comes after this, so you can skip this one bc it's not like essential to know.

(There's a summary of the chapter at the end if you skip)

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Frank had gotten Gerard clean. 

It was only for about a month at this point, but it was progress. He was completely prepared to understand and handle setbacks and relapses in his boyfriend's recovery process, but after the discussion they had had following the incident with the discovery of his self-harm, when Frank had actually cried at the thought of Gerard going too far, of his hatred of himself being enough to kill him, even on accident, Gerard had clearly tried to do his best in being cooperative.

At first, he was obviously confused, which broke Frank's heart. His boyfriend honestly could not grasp the concept that Frank would choose to stay with him and help him get better, rather than leaving him to his fate as he predicted.

They hadn't told his parents or even Mikey; Gerard wanted to wait until he was well recovered enough that he wouldn't relapse if the scene he expected from everyone actually played out - in which his family hated him and basically shunned him for being a freak and a disappointment.

Frank knew that would never happen, plausibly, but he respected his boyfriend's wishes, just stayed over a suspicious amount during the following month.

He knew the outside parties likely assumed they were having sex, as usual teenage boyfriends with prolonged periods of alone time would, but they had not.

Not even close.

For one, neither of them were ready for something like that. Frank wanted to make it special for them both, and Gerard figured Frank would never have a desire to do anything off the sort with him, so an opportunity never arose in the first place.

Secondly, it was slightly difficult to think of getting down with your boyfriend when the evidence of his inner turmoil was blatantly scattered across his arms - and legs, as Frank had learned.

Not that Frank found the marks ugly, or disgusting - nothing on Gerard's body could really ever be that way; it was a part of him, after all.

They were not necessarily attractive, but the only repulsion they offered was the symbolic meaning, and Frank knew they wouldn't be moving forward in a physical sense until they were faded tracey white and pink lines, rather than raised angry red ones.

At any rate, the month was passed with Frank practically living in the Way family's basement with Gerard, and Gerard struggling to overcome the self-destructive urges that had become a part of his daily life.

It almost physically hurt Frank when all Gerard could do was cling to him, sobbing as the need to hurt became umbearable, and it was all he could do to not attempt to rip though his skin with his own fingernails.

On those days they rarely left Gerard's room, only occasionally retrieving food or staying out to watch a movie.

But on the better days, Gerard was happier. Sometimes he hardly felt the urge at all, and it was easily chased away with a cup of coffee and a few well-placed kisses.

Most days recently had been good.

But not this day.

Frank wasn't even aware until he got home from an extensive shopping trip with his mom, since she had decided he spent too much time away and ensured they go Christmas shopping, without his phone.

He had ended up enjoying the trip, though, and had even bought Gerard a new Green Day jacket.

His good mood filtered away, however, as he picked up his phone from his nightstand to check it, his eyes instantly being drawn to the twenty seven missed messages and calls, all from Gerard's number.

Every one was him begging for Frank to pick up his phone, or pleading for help fighting against the temptations he could surely find a way to satiate.

The last message was sent thirteen minutes ago, simply reading 'I'm sorry'.

Frank new he wouldn't turn to his family; he was certain they would be disappointed and judgemental, maybe even encouraging the habits he was trying so hard to kick.

As fast as he could, he pulled his coat back on, running through his house and calling to his mother that he's be back soon, not stopping long enough to be forced into explantion. 

While sprinting down the street, he frantically dialed Mikey's number, holding his phone to his ear as he waited for the younger boy to pick up.

Receiving no reply but the beeping and the automatic voicemail robot. Cursing, he tried again, holding his breath (not a great idea while flat out sprinting down an icy street) as the seconds passed.

At last, he heard the familiar click and Mikey's cheerful voice eminated from the device.

 "Hey, Fra-"

Frank cut him off quickly and breathlessly.

"Mikey," he gasped, nearly sliding into a truck as he struggled to stop in the icy sidewalk of an intersection. "Mikey, where's Gerard?"

"Uh, probably down stairs," Mikey said, far too used to Frank's antics to catch actual urgency from this situation. "Why don't you just call him? Is his phone dead?"

"No, Miley, it's something else," he said, finally beginning to run again. "Gerard's been- oh god, he gonna kill me for this... But... Gerard's been self-harming, cutting himself, for a while now, and-"

"What!?" Mikey exclaimed. 

"Shush, I know, I'll explain later, but I didn't have my phone on me, and he was texting me a lot, like for help, and he hasn't said anything in almost twenty minutes now, and I'm so worried about him-"

"Okay, yeah," Mikey said, finally catching on."I'll go check on him."

As the silence passed, Frank hoped and prayed that Mikey would come across Gerard simply reading comics in his bed, having overcome the urge on his own, but the  more his calls of his brother's name were met with silence, the more Frank's hope deflated.

"I  can't-" there was the sound of Mikey opening a door and then a gasp that had every hopeful feeling in Frank finally die out. "Gerard!?"

There was the sound of Mikey doing something on the other end of the line, but Frank was running too fast to stop and try to figure it out.

"I'm going to call an ambulance," Mikey said shakily. 

"Okay," Frank swallowed, and let Mikey hang up, slipping his phone into his pocket to focus on getting to Gerard's house before the ambulance did.

Ten minutes later, he was in the car with Mikey and Donald, Donna having claimed the ride along in the ambulance.

Frank had only briefly glimpsed Gerard's unconscious form spread out on the gurney, but that sight alone was enough to nearly make him sick.

When they got to the hospital, it took hours to see Gerard.

Donna had rejoined them in the waiting room, saying that Gerard was being taken into emergency surgery and they would have to await results.

The Way family plus Frank took turns stopping every member of medical staff in sight, always asking about their son or brother or boyfriend.

At last, a short, dark-haired doctor approached, introducing herself as Doctor Nestor.

She told them that Gerard had suffered from multiple life-threatening lacerations horizontally and vertically on his inner forearms

Then it was Frank's turn to officially confirm the doctor's suspicions of self-harm.

He explained to the Ways that Gerard was terrified they would have bad reactions, as in hating him or telling him he deserved it.

He assured the doctor that Gerard's parents had shown no signs of being abusive - emotionally nor physically, and that it was just Gerard's mind convincing him if the worst.

Almost two whole days later, Gerard was scheduled to wake from his medically induced coma.

Gerard 's family decided it would be best for Frank to first see him alone and then invite the rest of them in, so there he was, sitting in the mildly uncomfortable chair beside his comatose boyfriend's bed.

Dr. Nestor entered the room, moving to check some machines that Gerard was apparently hooked up to. 

"We took him off the medication keeping him under about an hour ago, so he should be waking soon. I'll just need to ask him a few questions and then you can be alone with him, it won't take long."

Frank nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on Gerard's face until finally, his eyelids began to flutter open.

"Gee?" Frank asked breathlessly, hanging off his seat in anticipation. 

"Fra-frankie?" he croaked, his voice hoarse.

"I'm right here," he assured him, clutching his hand tightly as Gerard opened his mouth to say something.

"Sorry to interrupt things," Dr. Nestor interrupted. "But I need to ask you a few questions. Just about how you feel for now, we'll talk more after you've seen everyone."

She rattled off a few simple questions that Gerard answered easily, things like how much his arms hurt and if he was lightheaded or not.

At last, she left the room, leaving Frank ready to pounce on Gerard with huge and kisses, but his boyfriend just looked sadly at the sterile hospital sheets.

"I'm sorry, Frank," he said, refusing to look up. "I know you didn't want me to do this anymore, and I tried not to, I promise I tried-"

Frank cut him off, his apologetic rambling slowly becoming hysterical.

"Gerard," he said, firmly but lovingly. "I promise I don't hate you. I know exactly what you're thinking, and I swear it's not true. I love you, Gee, and nothing like this could ever change that - I don't think anything could, if I'm being honest."

Gerard looked up at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. It was the first time those words had ever passed either of their lips, even if they had both been thinking it.

His shock was quickly overtaken by his natural cynicism, his brain interrupting the happiness Frank wanted him to feel. 

"But-"

In a quick motion, Frank sat on his knees on Gerard's bed, leaning over to kiss his chapped lips. He kept his face close, even when he pulled away, letting his breath ghost over Gerard's mouth. 

"I love you," he said again. "I'll do anything to keep you safe, and this won't stop me."

Gerard breathed out slowly.

"I love you, too."

"Now we should let in Mikey and your parents, and then the doctors will want to talk about therapy, that okay baby?"

Gerard nodded. Anything was worth Frank pressing his mouth against his jaw slowly, not in a sexual way, but an intimate action nonetheless.

"Okay."

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SUMMARY FOR THOSE WHO SKIPPED: Frank is forced into going shopping with his mom, and has to leave his phone at home and when he gets back he finds a lot of texts and calls from Gerard, ending with 'I'm sorry'. Frank runs to their house and calls Miley on the way, Gerard is taken to the hospital (unconscious bc of blood loss). He's put in a medically induced coma, and a few days later he comes out, and then they say their first 'I love you's' and Gerard agrees to talk about going to therapy.

I promise the next one will be happy.

I don't under people. I feel like I experience emotions in another level than most people, like, either far more intensely or a lot less. I read somewhere that people with depression usually act the happiest, working the hardest on their jokes and trying to make people laugh, and I definitely feel that, and I think that might be why a lot of us have self-esteem issues, because we always want other people to be happy, and then we want them to like us, and then we think we're not good enough. 

I don't know if anyone else feels this, I'm just ranting.

I got to have a group discussion so YAY major anxiety session.

Anyway, love you cherries.

- Brightside