Credit to agentFOB

Seven years later...

"Thank you, but Daddy. I don't want to go to bed. Can I stay up with you? For just a little bit?" Declan asks as if all his begging could actually work. I only chuckle and hug him close as I set him down in his bed, Bandit already fast asleep in the bunk beside him.

"You have to go to sleep now so you can get up early tomorrow and get ready for school. You wouldn't want to miss out on seeing Cherry would you?" I ask with an ounce of a playful tone in my voice. Declan groans, his cheeks a bright red as he shakes his head.

"Okay, Love, goodnight and I'll wake you both up tomorrow. Maybe I'll make pancakes. Remember, we're also going to The Black Parade tomorrow. We don't want to keep Uncle Mikey and Pete waiting, now do we?" I ask, a smile across my lips.

Declan sighs and nods. With his eyebrows furrowed and a nod of his head, he replies, "Okay, Daddy. I think that's good."

"Good," I smile, "Now goodnight, get some sleep."

"Wait, Daddy," Bandit calls from her bed, and I internally let out another sigh, "Can you sing us the lullaby?"

"Yeah!" Declan agrees from where he lays in bed.

I only roll my eyes, a fond smile on my lips, "Okay, just one more time and then you have to go to sleep, all right?"

"Okay." Declan agrees.

"Which one do you want?" I ask.

"I want the Beautiful one."

"What's wrong with the Silly Bear one?" I ask in mock offense.

"The Beautiful one is better." Bandit pouts.

"Okay, okay," I say with a smile and a roll of my eyes.

I clear my throat, then begin singing. Remembering each note as if they were sung to me yesterday. Sung with the beautiful voice, the hint of a Jersey accent.

"These are the eyes and the lies of the taken
These are their hearts, but their hearts don't beat like ours
They burn 'cause they are all afraid
For every one of us, there's an army of them
But you'll never fight alone
'Cause I wanted you to know."

I take a seat at the foot of Declan's bed and shut my eyes as I continue.

"That the world is ugly
But you're beautiful to me
Well, are you thinking of me now?

"These are the nights and the lights that we fade in
These are the words, but the words aren't coming out
They burn 'cause they are hard to say
For every failing sun, there's a morning after
Though, I'm empty when you go
I just wanted you to know.

"That the world is ugly
But you're beautiful to me
Are you thinking of me
Like I'm thinking of you
I would say I'm sorry, though
Though I really need to go
I just wanted you to know

"I'm thinking of you every night, every day...

"The world is ugly
But you're beautiful to me
Are you thinking of me, now..."

"Goodnight, Loves..."

***

I shuffle through my bedroom, my teeth brushed and my eyes droopy but with all the clothes littering the floor, it's near impossible. As I walk, I end up tripping over a box, falling onto my elbows on the floor and letting out a soft, "oomph,"

Dammit.

I look back at the box, attempting to get up with a glare on my face but it softens as soon as I see the name imprinted on top. A name I haven't heard in a long, long time. It makes my heart melt. My stomach twist. I wince at the sight. The sight of his name.

Gerard

I swallow, I'm not letting the tears come again. I've moved on... I swear. I'm okay now. I don't need these memories...

Are you sure? You couldn't live without them when I was still here to doubt your every move, what makes this any different?

I stand up, cringing at the new forming bruise in my knee. I'd lost this box forever ago, but that was okay. I was hoping I wouldn't find it. So my heart couldn't hurt any more than it already does. It took two years to accept his death when I finally gave in and said it was okay. The dreams of him still come at night. The dreams of him. Of his warm cuddling. I wake up thinking he's by my side, but he never is. It's all empty space. Empty bedding. Empty...

My hands shakily pull the box up onto the bed, and I can't help but run my fingers over the side, dust wiping off. It's been forever. I can't remember when I lost it, but it was much longer than a year ago.

As I look over it and try to will myself to do it, I find that I can't open it. I'm so scared of what I'll find. His face staring up into mine, a condom from a Homecoming dance from an eternity ago? A Christmas present I was supposed to open two years ago?

My hands finally pull the lid off of the box, and my teenhood is poured down on me in a hurricane of nostalgia.

Oh nostalgia, we don't need you anymore...

Are you sure...?

The first thing I see is a dry, red rose.

I hear the back door shut and my eyes dart back up to see Elisa with a bouquet of black and red flowers. There are dark tulips and lilies and four roses placed among the bouquet. One for each year. Each pedal pristine and neat. They're untouched by human hands, and they're beautiful. Just like Gerard...

Just like me...

I set the rose on the bed. I remember buying roses every year after Gerard's death and visiting Mom's, Megan's, and Donald's graves while placing the roses next to the mausoleum. It was a favor from Brendon to get him buried in there. I'd asked because I knew Gerard had always been in love with the mausoleum.

I'd say hello. Wishing they were still with me... leaving...

I had kept one of the roses to remember The Black Parade by...

Beside the rose is a badge. Donald's badge. The one from The Black Parade. I don't really have a memory of this besides the drawing of Mikey and the symbol on Donald's grave, but Mikey had said that it had sentimental value to both him and Gerard and I agreed to add it to the box.

Next, is a condom. The condom. The condom Brendon threw to Gerard and me at Homecoming when we were making up for three years...

Gerard kisses me hungrily, his lips moving fast against mine. Sucking, biting, licking. Everything he can do in the attempt to get some sort of reaction from me. To drive me crazy. My fingers tug harder at his hair as he slides his fingers down my chest.

Down, down, down. I'm tensing up. Where is he going with this? He needs to stop. I want it, but I'm afraid. His fingers keep tracing down my figure, down my stomach...

"Nice show," I hear a voice say. My heart sinks. I swear to fucking god I am going to kill him. I pull away, blushing furiously as Gerard glances at Brendon.

"Brendon fucking Urie!" Gerard hisses, frustrated, "How long were you two standing there?"

Ryan laughs at us, his brown eyes crinkling in joy. His wavy chocolate hair reaches to about his jawline while a gray and white scarf hangs around his neck messily. He's wearing a dark brown sweater, each thread looks soft and honestly I'm a little jealous of it. To top it all off are dark blue skinny jeans, black Vans, and a black fedora atop his head.

Brendon, on the other hand, has his black hair spiked slightly and his bangs spread out just above his right eye. His brown eyes look energetic, excited like he just drank a pot of coffee straight out of the mug, a monster, and a bottle of beer. He's wearing a light brown jacket over a plain white shirt. One arm is slung over Ryan's shoulder and then, of course, in his hand is a packet, and I know exactly what that is.

"Since you started," Brendon replies with a smirk.

"You are such a little shit." My boyfriend growls, "What's the condom for?"

"Well, Ryan and I were going to use it once we got to Joe's but it looks like you need it more than we do," Brendon replies throwing it over. Gee catches it.

I remember later that night, the blowjob. The way his mouth wrapped around me...

I shiver at just the thought of it and place the condom beside the rose. Next is a sheet of paper. Pete gave me that paper, but I don't know what it's doing here. This is Gerard's box, not Pete's box...

I unfold the paper to find, in fact, two pieces.

Hey Trick,

I don't know how long you plan on staying here but if Brendon kicks you out, you can always come to my place. My mom is never home anymore, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind. There are painkillers in the bedside drawer if you need them and water in the bathroom. If you need anything, text me. I had to go to my counselor's because of my bipolar disorder, sorry.

Text me when you wake up?

-Panda

A tear drips down my nose, I sniffle. I don't want to go through this, just like I didn't want to keep visiting Gerard seven years ago but... I feel like I don't have a choice at this point...

I've got troubled thoughts
And the self-esteem to match
What a catch, what a catch

You'll never catch us
So just let me be
Said I'll be fine
Till the hospital or American Embassy
Miss Flack said I still want you back

They say the captain
Goes down with the ship
So when the world ends
Will God go down with it?

I will never end up like him
Behind my back I already am
Keep a calendar, this way you will always know

I've got troubled thoughts
And the self-esteem to match
What a catch, what a catch

My breathing hitches...

"Confused?"

"Uh... Yeah?"

Pete pulls me closer and points to the title, "What a Catch, Donnie. There was a man named Donny Hathaway. He had depression, and it's a lot like my bipolar," His finger lowers to the first stanza, "This is you," His finger continues to the second stanza, "Donny committed suicide just last year. This woman, Flack, made music with him. He misses her," Down to the third verse, "3 AM thoughts, wondering when this world will end. If it would really be worth it to kill myself."

The fourth stanza, "I will never end up like Donnie, behind my back, people think I already am, keep a calendar, this way you will always know I'll be here," Fifth stanza, "Closure. Despite all the depression and the suicide attempts, you make me realize just how worth it is to stay. Your self-esteem gets to you, I know, but you've done so many amazing things. You've saved me."

I set the notes down beside the rose and the condom... And there is the CD right there.

An orange background, the world going up and flames. A girl, a boy, lost in their own world.

Oh, Gerard...

21st Century Breakdown...

I set the CD down beside the rose, the badge, the notes, and the condom and pull out my old notebook. Full to the brim with lyrics I'd written to cope with Gerard's passing. I'd been so depressed that all I had the will to do was write songs until Donna physically forced me to go to school because she said it was very unhealthy.

I'd written so many songs in this. Songs not only about Gerard but lots of different things in general. My favorite out of them all will always be Miss Missing You. I'd worked hard on that one. It was the one I'd poured all my emotion into.

Don't panic
No, not yet
I know I'm the one you want to forget
Cue all the love to leave my heart
It's time for me to fall apart

Gerard to me, then me to Gerard.

Now you're gone
But I'll be okay
Your hot whiskey eyes
Have fanned the flames
Maybe I'll burn a little brighter tonight
Let the fire breathe me back to life

This line was from me to Gerard. I can't believe you left me. Hot whiskey eyes. Just another troubled soul. They've helped me through so much. Recognizing that emotion only you and I understand.

Baby, you were my picket fence
I miss missing you now and then

I'll still remember despite the fact you're gone.

Chlorine kissed, summer skin
I miss missing you now and then

You were always so beautiful.

Sometimes before it gets better
The darkness gets bigger
The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger

It hurts so much, but I've healed. I've gotten better. I've improved. I would save you, but you only ended up dying in a way I couldn't help. You shot me. You shot me down, and I didn't know if I could ever get up. I still don't know if I've fully recovered from your passing...

I set the notebook down, and next comes a drawing.

My heart nearly breaks with this one, I can feel it drop.

Beautiful.

It's my Christmas Eve present...

My gray hair, my nose, my mouth, the top of my chest. It all looks like perfection... He was such an amazing artist...

I squint my eyes at the drawing, "Is that me?"

Gerard nods and tears the paper from the sketchbook, careful not to rip the page, "Um... Christmas Eve present?"

I giggle softly but take it, folding it in half, then in half again and stuffing it in my pocket.

I set that down on the bed, too, and finally... finally... pull out the notebook...

I take a deep breath.

And open the first page.

Hey Sugar,

I know you're reading this. Christmas present. I just want to say I love you but you can't read this until you're at least 21. I know, it's weird, but you have to trust me. It's a surprise... I love you, and I know it's tempting but... for me? Have a good rest of your day whenever you're reading this and never forget that I'll always be with you...

-Gerard

You broke that promise, now, didn't you...?

I flip the page.

Fear is killing us

That's it. The rest of the page is blank.

I flip the page again.

But true love can survive

Next page.

If we cooperate

Next.

We can beat doubt

But first rebuild trust

Take responsibility

Happiness is still free

Though not always apparent

When it's right in front of us

So keep calm. It's gonna get better

I throw the notebook across the room.

Gerard, Gerard, Gerard. Why, Gerard. What's wrong with you, Gerard? Why did you have to fucking die, Gerard? Why couldn't you wake up, Gerard? Did you ever love me, Gerard? What's wrong, Gerard? Why did you have to do this to me, Gee...? I love you, Gerard. You loved me, Gerard. I want you back, Gerard. I miss you, Gerard. Gerard. Gerard. Gerard.

Gerard!

The name is venom, but I love the venom. I love the poison because it brings back nostalgia. Nostalgia, I don't need you anymore, but I still love you. I love you because you make me feel happy. You make me feel happy because you make me feel like I'm back at the bridge. You make me feel like I'm in love again. You make me feel alive. You bring back everything I've been missing for seven years.

In only four months, Gerard, you healed me. In only four months, I was alive. It takes some people years to recover from abuse. From anxiety. From depression. From PTSD. From grief.

But you...

You healed me...

And then you broke me again. You broke my fucking heart.

But I swear to God, Gerard. That guy that's been giving me a hard time for these past ten years? Him. I swear to fucking God, I would do it all again...

Just to see you...

I walk around the bed and pick up the notebook...

So keep calm. It's gonna get better.

It's gonna get better...

Really?

I flip to the next page...

Pete and I made a song for you. We worked on this together for a few months before Christmas...

So... enjoy?

Pete... Petepetepete.

Am I more than you bargained for yet?

Yes... you really are.

I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that's just who I am this week.

You told me everything that happened to your Dad and your mom and Mikey. Is that what this is about?

Lie in the grass next to the mausoleum

I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song

I'm gonna guess that's about Pete.

Drop a heart

You've broken my heart

Break a name

Pete's ego.

We're always sleeping in and sleeping for the wrong team

I was supposed to be sleeping with Gee, not Pete

We're going down, down in an earlier round.

Drama.

And Sugar, we're going down swinging

So much was happening that we all kind of just fell apart.

Sugar...

I'll be your number one with a bullet

He always loved me, he'd do anything to be my number one.

A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it.

I was a hell of a lot more confident on drugs

We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded God complex cock it and pull it

Is this more than you bargained for yet?

Yes.

Oh, don't mind me, I'm watching you two from the closet
Wishing to be the friction in your jeans

Is this whole thing about Gerard being jealous of Pete and me?

Isn't it mess up how I'm just dying to be him?

A little bit.

I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song

Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in and sleeping for the wrong team

We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded God complex cock it and pull it

We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded God complex cock it and pull it

Next page.

Here's your lullaby by the way, just thought you might want it.

It's The World Is Ugly, but I don't read it. I've seen it far too much. Next page...

Okay, Sugar, I know this whole thing is kind of confusing... I'm sorry about that...

I want to ask you something, and this is why you have to wait until you're 21 to read this.

Disregard this page if we've broken up.

Ignore this page if I'm not available at the moment.

That doesn't help.

Disregard this page if you're under 21.

Ignore this page if we've started fighting recently.

By the time you're reading this, and you're over 21, I've already bought the ring. The only way I haven't is because one of the above happened or I've stolen this from you.

Yes, I know there are a million things that could go wrong with this but think about it: I'm only 16 right now. Extremely young and I'm just hopelessly hopeful because we both know most high school relationships don't last all that long. I've thought this out.

You're the one I want.

So... marry me?

I swallow.

And I take out my phone.

And I call Pete.

It rings once, twice, three times...

"Hello? 'Trick?" He answers.

I'm crying, I'm crying so very hard right now, and I try my best not to let it show but it doesn't work very well.

"Gerard." I say, "He was gonna marry me."

Silence.

"You read the notebook?"

"Yeah."

More silence.

"I'm so sorry..." He whispers.

"It's..." I feel more tears leave my eyes and fall back on the bed, "I would've said yes... I... I don't know why I'm calling you. I... I shouldn't have looked in the notebook. I knew this would happen. I fucking knew."

"Hey, calm down. I'll be right over, alright? We can talk about this. You can play a few songs if you want. We can read the lyrics again..." He says, "We're going to The Black Parade tomorrow night, too. I can ask Mikey to pick up the kids..."

"Thanks, Pete..."

"Anytime."

***

"Are you ready to go?" I ask Mikey as Bandit and Declan chase Bronx and Saint around the city block. The Black Parade is long gone, but both Mikey and I wanted to stay a little longer. We always do.

"Yeah," The boy says, his now blonde and brown hair looks ridiculous but, just like seven years ago, it somehow still looks good on him.

"Daddy, where are you going?" Bandit asks, tugging at the bottom of my shirt. I smile softly and crouch down, "Uncle Mikey, and I are going on a walk for a bit. Do you think you can help Pete take care of Declan for a bit?"

Bandit scrunches her nose, "But I wanna go with you!"

"Sorry, Cupcake," I say, hugging her, "We'll be back in a bit, alright?"

"Okay..." She says in the saddest voice she can muster, "Where do you always go?"

I chuckle and hug her close, "I go to see a boy who's very special to me."

She frowns, "Can I see the special boy?"

I smile and pull back, a nostalgic expression across my features, "Someday, Love. I promise."

"How strong are your promises?" She asks, desperation in her tiny voice.

I smile back, "I've only broken two."

I stand back up and look Mikey in the eye. He looks away, tears are forming in his eyes.

"It'll be okay," I whisper, "I promise..."

He smiles softly and wipes his tears, "Okay..."

I smile softly, he's going to be fine. I believe in it... I'm almost healed... I believe he can, too.

We walk down the block, watching the high schoolers from the marching band get packed up and Mikey squeezes my hand softly. I take it, knowing how much it hurts for him. As we continue to walk, though, I swear I see something out of the corner of my eye.

It can't be...

I turn my head and sure enough...

It's a fedora.

It looks ragged, torn up by the wind and I can't help but look up at the skyscraper above us.

I've been up there before.

"Promise not to do it again...? Please?" He asks, basically begging. There's so much sorrow and fear in his voice. Does he mean it? All that troubled emotion? Does he really love me? It can't be true...

"I promise..." I whisper. And I mean it.

Yes...

He really did love me...

***

I told you he'd get better, now didn't I?"

I gaze down at the blonde haired boy, my hazel eyes flickering across his beautiful features, "Yeah..."

Dad pats my back gently, "Someday he'll join us, I promise you that. In the meantime, he has to decide his own path. Declan and Bandit need him right now. As a father. Mikey needs him to heal just like he needed you to heal."

I nod, my hands weaving in Dad's.

"Now, let's see what they want to say to you this year, hmm?"

"Okay."

And with that, we walk together through the void. Past the paraders, past the white girl and the black boy, past the soldiers, the women on horses, the instruments, the drums, the clarinets, the flutes, the bass.

And we stop at the mausoleum door, beside Dad's grave with the Arrowpoint badge.

"Someday." I whisper to Patrick, "Someday."

With those words he looks up, confusion etched across his face, but it doesn't matter.

As long as he heard.

And he did.

***

Now go back and look up the first letter of every chapter.

I love you, Bandit. Pass this onto Declan if you can.

Xoxo, Dad.