Frank approached Pete's familiar house on tired feet; he hadn't really wanted to stop by today - not because he didn't want to see his friend, Frank was just running on three hours of sleep, and he had originally planned on napping before he had to be at work in a few hours.

But Pete had been blowing up his phone, starting at nine o' clock this morning, and continuing with his relentless messaging even once Frank had proven that he was still alive and functioning after last night. Pete refused to stop his excessive texting until Frank had agreed to come over, so Frank found himself knocking on his best friend's door halfheartedly as he did his best to stifle a jaw popping yawn.

"I've got it mom!" Pete's excited voice rang out, and Frank wondered how deaf Pete thought his mother was that inspired him to yell so loudly that Frank could hear it from his position on the front porch.

"Frankie!" Pete grinned happily before engulfing Frank in a bone crushing hug. Frank wasn't a very affectionate person, but Pete was always like this, even if he had just seen Frank yesterday, and Frank often compared him to an overexcited puppy in his mind.

Sometimes, Pete's hyper active nature could get irritating, but Frank actually enjoyed his bubbly personality. It brought Frank out of the morose cloud he was typically cocooned in, and Pete never failed to make Frank smile, which was a feat in itself. Pete and Frank's friendship proved the old saying "opposites attract", because even though they were contradictory in so many ways, they melded together perfectly.

"Hey Pete," Frank shoved his friend off gently when Pete showed no signs of letting go of him anytime soon.

"I was worried about you when you didn't respond to any of my texts yesterday." Pete grinned sheepishly when he finally released him.

"Sorry, but you know how I get...I just didn't feel up to socializing you know?" Frank shrugged uncomfortably, because even though he felt bad about ignoring Pete, he thought he would understand his radio silence. Maybe he had forgotten what day it was - Frank wouldn't blame him if he did.

"It's okay, you are here now."

"So...are you gonna invite me in, or are we hanging out on the porch today?" Frank smirked at Pete, who literally looked around as if he had only just now realized that they were still standing outside.

"Oops, my bad," Pete giggled before heading back inside with Frank trailing after him.

"Hello Frank dear," Pete's mother greeted them as they entered the kitchen, where she was cooking something that smelled delicious.

"Hey Mrs. Wentz," Frank answered as he took in the amazing scent that wafted from the oven.

Frank loved spending time at Pete's place, especially when his mother was home, because she always treated him like part of the family, and she reminded Frank of how his mother used to act before his father's departure. Frank felt more at home here than he ever did in his own house lately, and even though he hadn't wanted to come over earlier, he was glad that he had. Something about Pete's house just oozed peacefulness, and Frank could fully relax here.

"Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes."

"Yeah that would be great, thank you so much," Frank gushed while his stomach growled loudly, as if it wanted to vocalize its input as well.

Frank hadn't had a chance to eat anything today in his rush to get to the bank and make some deposits, and there hadn't been any decent food in the house anyway. He had been planning on grabbing a quick bite once he got to work, but a home cooked meal made by Mrs. Wentz was an opportunity that he would never pass up.

"You don't need to thank me Frank, you know you are basically my second son."

"You are too nice to me Mrs. Wentz." Frank blushed slightly at her kind words, because even after all these years, her acceptance of him never failed to surprise him, and he would be eternally grateful to her for taking him in whenever he needed a place to stay.

"Well somebody needs to feed you - look how skinny you are getting." Mrs. Wentz shot him a sad look before turning back to the stove. She knew about his mother of course - not everything, but enough to deduce that Frank wasn't being taken care of properly.

"Frankie - come on!" Pete spoke up from the top of the stairs, gesturing for Frank to follow him to his room.

"You don't need any help do you Mrs. Wentz?" Frank asked, ignoring Pete's obnoxious hand motions for the moment, because if Pete's mother was going to serve him dinner, the least he could do was offer to assist her in some way.

"No - you boys go upstairs, and I will call you when it is ready. Thanks for asking sweetheart," Mrs. Wentz smiled before shooing Frank away from the kitchen. Pete had already disappeared down the hallway, he probably bolted as soon as he heard Frank's question so he wouldn't get roped into making dinner.

Once Frank had ascended the carpeted steps and made his way into Pete's room, he collapsed on the messy bed with a heavy sigh, closing his tired eyes for a moment as Pete rummaged around through his precariously stacked pile of CDs he kept on his desk. After a few minutes of muttered cursing, Pete let out a happy exclamation, and then Nirvana's Lithium began playing through Pete's crappy computer speakers.

"So...you okay Frankie?" Pete sat down next to Frank, making the mattress dip slightly under his weight. Frank usually hated when anyone called him Frankie, because that was the nickname his father had used for him, so he became very defensive when anyone attempted to do the same. Pete was the exception though, because he had been using the same endearment since kindergarten, and he was the only one who could utter the dreaded name without making Frank want to punch them in the face.

"Yeah - just peachy," Frank mumbled with his face pressed against Pete's comforter, which smelled slightly like salsa - only Pete would eat salsa in bed, or at least, Frank hoped he was eating it, and not doing some weird kinky shit involving spicy dip.

"I didn't forget what yesterday was, I just didn't want you to be alone," Pete spoke up after a few minutes of silence.

"Oh...well yeah, I'm okay. I mean - it was two years ago now," Frank lied, even though he knew he could tell Pete how he was truly feeling, he just didn't have the energy to get all emotional right now. Frank had barely gotten himself out of the depressive state he had been in last night, and he wasn't eager to sink back down into it so soon.

"You are a terrible liar." Pete's tone of voice was causal, like he was commenting on the weather or something, but Frank knew he was trying to hide his hurt feelings when Frank didn't open up to him. Pete seemed to view his close friendship with Frank as a point of pride, and when Frank tried to shut down on him, Pete got offended, and Frank knew he wasn't going to get over this unless Frank told him something.

"Fine...I'm not okay, but that's kind of a given. I'm here, and I'm better than I was last night, so yeah..." Frank rolled over so Pete could read his face, which carried an honest expression tinged slightly with exasperation.

"I could have hung out with you, kept your mind off it - you know?" Pete still sounded slightly offended, and Frank knew he shouldn't be getting irritated at the only person who cared about him, but he was. He just didn't want to talk about this right now, and Pete knew that, but he was convinced that letting things out would help Frank heal, so he was always pushing him to vent about his feelings.

"Yeah I know, I just wanted to be alone - sometimes that is what's best for me."

"Frank...are you sure you are okay? I mean - like you said, it's been two years, and it seems like you are getting worse instead of better."

"I'm trying Pete, really - I am. It's just hard..." Frank stared down at the deep red blanket he was lying on top of instead of at Pete, because no matter how much he trusted his best friend, he still hated exposing himself like this.

"I know...I just want you to be happy."

"Same here Pete, believe me - I do. It's just not that easy," Frank sighed, because it wasn't like he was making himself miserable for no reason, but right now, dragging himself through each day took all of his energy, and it was hard to stay cheerful when he didn't have anything to look forward to.

"I just thought time would help you, but - fuck, I don't know what I'm saying. I'm not a fucking therapist, so I should just shut up," Pete groaned out, and he sounded truly distressed at the fact that he couldn't magically fix all of Frank's problems.

"No Pete, it's fine. You care, and that helps more than you know, but can we talk about something else?"

"Yeah of course," Pete stretched out next to Frank on the bed, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek in the process. Frank smiled at the gesture; Pete was always affectionate, even when they were just hanging out, and he liked it. It made him feel special, even though he knew it was just a friendly habit.

"So have you told your parents you are gay yet?" Frank asked after wracking his brain for something that would distract Pete from Frank's pathetic life for the time being.

"No..." Pete groaned, flipping over and burying his face into a nearby pillow.

"Why not? You have the coolest mom ever, and your dad is pretty chill too. I know they wouldn't care."

"Your right, I guess I'm just scared of disappointing them - you know? I'm an only child, and they are always talking about how they want grandchildren one day, and - fuck, I just can't Frank." Pete's voice came out muffled, but Frank still got the gist of his words.

"Well it's not like being gay means you can't have kids; there is adoption, and surrogacy, and all that stuff. Just explain it to them. They might freak out at first, but I'm sure they will warm up to the idea," Frank reassured his friend. He truly believed his parents would be cool with it; they hadn't ostracized him after his father had come out like so many of his neighbors had, and they were some of the most understanding people Frank knew - there was no way they wouldn't support their son in his choices.

"But what if they don't? The gay topic has never really come up, and I honestly don't even know how they feel about any of it. I've tried to go through with it a hundred times, but I always end up freaking myself out."

"I understand, and I'm not pressuring you. I just think you are making too big a deal out of this." Frank put his arm around Pete in a comforting gesture, and his friend exhaled heavily against his shoulder.

"I'm going to tell them eventually, I was sort of just waiting until I got a boyfriend. Then I would actually have incentive to come out I guess." Pete shrugged, and Frank patted his back gently.

"Take your time dude, it's no rush. I was just curious - that's all."

"Boys - dinner is ready!" Mrs. Wentz called out from downstairs, and Frank's stomach grumbled again, making him wonder if it somehow understood the English language.

"Come on man, let's go eat. My mom is right - you are getting way too thin."

~~~

Gerard was ninety percent sure he was still drunk from last night, and that was pretty sad given the fact that it was two in the afternoon, but he had no idea when he actually stopped drinking yesterday, although he knew it was the early hours of the morning, so he wasn't too surprised by the fact that he was possibly still inebriated.

He just couldn't control himself, especially not last night. Everything was just too much, and he had no one to distract him since Mikey had disappeared to fuck knows where - hopefully Ray's house so he would at least have someone to watch out for him.

Gerard should have been worried about the fact that he was clueless about his brother's exact location; he still hadn't come home, even though he had left around nine last night, but his pounding headache and roiling stomach were distracting him from his brother's absence.

Honestly, Mikey was probably doing exactly what Gerard was, trying to get over a hangover, or something, and debating on if he could risk moving right now, and Gerard didn't blame him.

With a tortured groan, Gerard began rummaging around his room for his missing phone so he could text Mikey, but his search came up empty of course.

He couldn't even remember half of last night, which was probably a good thing. He had intended on going out to meet Bert for a drink, but that plan had gotten thrown out the window when he started the party early, and by the time ten had rolled around, he was already too wasted to even consider driving.

He hadn't really wanted to be around people anyway, but Bert had convinced him that it would be better to distract himself by actually leaving his apartment and socializing, but Gerard had ended up texting his friend and canceling, which Bert had sort of been expecting the entire day anyway.

That was the last time Gerard remembered having his phone, but he couldn't recall what room he was in when he sent that message - maybe the kitchen?

Pulling himself to his feet, Gerard attempted to walk on shaky legs toward the aforementioned room, but he didn't even make it halfway there before he had to change directions and bolt for the bathroom.

Gerard barely made it in time, choking back bile as he tossed open the toilet lid so hard he wouldn't have been surprised if it had cracked, but he couldn't worry about that right now, not when his stomach was cramping painfully as he threw up everything he had eaten yesterday and what felt like a few internal organs as well.

When his stomach was finally done emptying itself, Gerard collapsed onto the cold tile floor in a heap, too weak to continue his journey into the kitchen to retrieve his phone. Mikey was probably doing better than Gerard was right now in any case.

This was the worst hangover Gerard could remember experiencing in ages; he rarely got them anymore, but he had gone overboard last night. He just couldn't seem to drink enough to shut up his mind, and he had kept going until everything became a fuzzy blur of tears and anger, until he had finally blacked out.

Gerard was suddenly struck by what a pathetic picture he presented in this moment, sprawled out on the bathroom floor, his greasy unwashed hair fanning out behind him, his face still stained with tears from last night.

How did he fall so hard, so fast? Not that Gerard had ever been the epitome of happiness, but fuck - this hurt, and it hadn't stopped hurting since that night. His pitiful existence made him want to cry again, but he had done enough of that last night, and his eyes were dry and scratchy because of it.

He knew where it started - actually, he would never forget, but even though he had a perfectly legitimate reason to be such a mess, he thought that after two years, he would have started to pick himself back up, but he seemed incapable of doing that, no matter how hard he tried.

Elena had always done that for him; she had been the helping hand that dragged his sorry ass off the floor when he didn't have the strength to move, the supporting presence that convinced Gerard to follow his dreams, even though they had crashed and burned in the end.

Even when Gerard's parents had kicked him out of the house for being gay, saying they never wanted anything to do with him again, Elena had taken him in and given him a place to stay and a shoulder to cry on. Mikey had come to live with them not long after, he couldn't stand his parents treatment of Gerard, and he eventually came out as pansexual himself.

She was their everything: their mother, and father, and best friend, and mentor all in one. Without her, Gerard had no idea where he would have ended up, and it wasn't a pleasant thought, not that his current situation was an ideal one, but it would have been so much worse without Elena.

But she was gone now; she had passed away two years ago as of yesterday, which explained Gerard's binge drinking and Mikey's disappearance last night. Her death had destroyed both of them, it had been so sudden, and they had no time to prepare or brace themselves for their lives without her in it, so they had fallen apart into the sad shells of people they currently were today.

Gerard thought time would make things better, but it didn't. Everything hurt even worse today then it had when he had first received the news, probably because the shock and denial had worn off, and he couldn't hide behind his numb facade as well as he used to.

She was never coming back, and Gerard and Mikey were alone - besides each other, but even then, it wasn't enough. Two broken people couldn't come together to make a whole, it just didn't work that way, and even though they tried to support each other the best that they could, Gerard knew they were just placing masking tape over their internal wounds, using drugs and alcohol as a temporary fix for their pain.

That was why Gerard had lost himself in a liquor bottle last night, that was why he was at least buzzed eighty percent of the time, because he had to continuously apply a new bandage over his damaged heart, or it would break apart, and he would never be able to stitch himself back together again when that happened.

This wasn't living, and Gerard knew it, but it was the best he could do for the time being, and maybe one day, he would pull himself together and find some joy in the world again, but not today, and probably not tomorrow - maybe not ever, and Gerard had come to accept that.

I have been trying so hard to finish this chapter, and I am still not very happy with it, but I give up for now. The rest of the chapters won't be this shitty (hopefully), so please bear with me for now.

I have been kind of in a weird funk lately, and all I want to do is write, but I am not really happy with anything, but hopefully this isn't as bad as I feel like it is.

Anyway, I want to thank all of you guys for getting so excited about this story, all of the comments on the first chapter really made my day, and I hope this lives up to all of your expectations.

So I already asked this when I posted the new chapter of Biblical, but I didn't get an answer, so I am going to ask you guys here too. I don't know if any of you have read So Little Time (and if you haven't, I don't blame you - it sucks ass), anyway - it was the first Frerard I ever wrote, and even though I hate it, I was thinking about rewriting it and uploading it as a separate book. I don't think the plot was too bad, but twelve year old me's writing style was terrible. So I kind of really want to do it, but I don't know if anyone would be interested in reading it, so some opinions would be nice.

Also, dangergays and I are starting a collab fic called I Wish I Never Saw The Sunshine, and even though we only have the prologue up, it would mean a lot to the both of us if you checked it out.

Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to -ladyofsorrows for your super nice comment, and I hope you keep enjoying this fic.

((((writing vibes))))

<3 starr