Everywhere hurt.

His throat burned: raw and damaged.

He'd been scared.

He felt like he'd been screaming for hours.

He hadn't made a sound.

And perhaps it would stay like that.

As he stayed like that.

Cold water.

So he could feel it.

But he'd still been scared.

He would always be scared.

Of everything.

Of everyone.

Of himself.

Of his mind and what it made him do. Of the letter and who had found it, and still, he lay there, eyes wide and raw: all of him, raw, burned out, drenched, wet hair, cold skin, the window open, ocean air, early morning, and not a sound in the world.

He'd taken pills, it seemed not enough.

Because he'd been scared, and this wasn't a question of choice anymore, this was something he had to do, and he didn't like it, he would never like it: it was all wrong, with weeks to go until November 1st, but he hadn't had a choice.

He'd taken the pills, he'd ran the bath, cold, cold like the ocean, cold like the lake, and closed his eyes as his head had began to throb, because he knew he shouldn't have taken so many pills, but he needed it work; he'd been desperate for it to work, and still, it hadn't.

He'd gotten into the bath and leaned back against the tub, closing his eyes and drifting out of consciousness as the water had continued to run.

But here he was, raw, aching, all over, but still alive, and with no pills left, no second try, because this was wrong, he couldn't do it like this, he had to force himself, and he looked down at the water around him, having flooded the bathtub a little.

He reached forward, turning the gentle stream of water off, and cringing a little as he felt water overflow from the tub as he moved forward, still alive, still breathing, still there, somehow.

He sat up, this time just letting the water overflow as he put his head in his hands and began to cry, because he knew that no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't, he just couldn't do it like this not anymore, he couldn't leave knowingly, because before he'd almost tricked him into doing it, he'd been silent, he'd been desperate and he'd felt unsafe, because someone out there knew.

But now, come four in the morning, Gerard Way sat in the water, so cold around him and cried, cried because he couldn't think of what else to do: Kat was asleep, god knows where his parents were, and he was alone, so fucking alone.

He began to shiver, feeling seeming to move back into his body, and he came to realise just how cold the water around him had become, he groaned a little, his sobs becoming whimpers as he leaned forward, glancing up at the light and one insect, a moth or something perhaps, that had flown in from the bathroom window, fluttering around the light bulb like it was the only thing keeping it alive.

He wondered what his own light bulb really was, because the date was just a prolonging of this all, he wondered what kept him sitting there, what kept him unable to just pull his head underwater, to do it properly.

It wasn't the way it was supposed to be, he hadn't said goodbye, and perhaps Gerard just wasn't quite ready to let go quite yet, perhaps he needed to do it now, now as the world was asleep, he needed to go out and he needed to find the letter, the one that had gone, and if he found it or even just where it had gotten to then everything would be okay again, he could wait until November 1st and everything would be just like it was supposed to be.

Gerard looked back up at the moth and got up, reaching for the light switch, letting darkness fill the room, and watched as the moth made its way back out the window again, into the moonlight, always moving on; the moth didn't just sit in the dark, and that was exactly what was the difference between the seventeen year old boy who'd just failed in drowning himself and the small winged nocturnal insect, because Gerard, he sat in the dark, both literally and metaphorically, before finally pulling the plug and watching the bathwater drain away.

He sat there for a few minutes more, shivering as the water drained away from around him, until he finally found himself, sat there: knees pulled up to his chest, naked, freezing, and so fucking scared.

He got to his feet, stumbling a little and nearly banging his head against the wall as he got out of the bath, making some attempt at drying himself, not the most successful one, but an attempt nonetheless, before pulling his clothes back on.

When he'd taken his clothes off a few hours ago he didn't think he'd ever be putting them back on, and naked wasn't really the way he wanted to be found, but you couldn't be embarrassed once you were dead, and that was the logic he'd been following as he'd attempted to fuck this all up.

He met his reflection in the mirror and regretted doing so, biting his lip as he made his way out into the hallway, finding himself drawn to the bright light of the kitchen: it seemed to draw him in, a comfort of sorts.

He found himself stood there beneath the light bulb for a good few minutes, mesmerised by the light and existence as his whole body continued to ache: alive. He couldn't quite figure out how and why he was still alive.

He reached up towards the light bulb, his fingers burning as he touched it, and it took him just a little too long to pull his hand away. He thought of the moth, he thought of the light bulb, he thought of never having woken up again, he imagined the moth to be the first creature to see his dead body in that very bathtub. He imagined Kat to be the second, and suddenly everything inside him began to burn, because no, that wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Gerard jumped a little as the doorbell rang. His eyes widened a little, as he came to terms with the situation: the doorbell had rung at four in the morning, and still despite the oddity of the situation, he made his way over to the front door and opened it, perhaps expecting to see his mother, having forgotten her keys: drunk, and oblivious to the fact that Gerard was so close to having died right then and there.

But it wasn't his mother.

"You weren't at the beach, so... I... I hope this is okay, I mean, it's a really stupid time, but I... I wanted to see you, there's something I need to talk to someone about, I-"

Frank was cut off as Gerard reached forward, pulling him against his chest: tight, so tight, Gerard was so scared, and suddenly so scared to let go, and then, crying again.

"Hey..." Frank began, putting his arms around the seventeen year old, just a little confused, "what's this for?" He laughed a little, moving his hands to Gerard's hair, "hey, your hair's wet, did you wash it? Gerard, I cannot believe this," Frank exclaimed, laughing a little.

Gerard pulled away, biting his lip as he let out a sigh, nodding.

"Are you okay?" Frank continued to ask, his tone changing a little as he took in Gerard's demeanor, and worry began to spread throughout his body.

Gerard bit his lip, turning away from Frank and shrugging, because the simple, and true answer was of course, 'no, I literally just tried to kill myself', but there was no way Gerard would ever say that aloud, not even to Frank, especially not to Frank.

"What does that mean?" Frank stepped forward, sighing a little as he felt Gerard move away from him at the same rate that he moved towards him, but still he respected Gerard's space and remained still after a moment. "Did something happen? Something bad?"

Gerard nodded, his mind fixated upon the letters and the matter of finding them, and just what he could say to Frank, because he certainly couldn't just ask him to leave, fuck, Gerard was unsure if he could even remember how to talk anymore.

Frank let out a sigh, desperately wanting to hug Gerard, but with him unhappy to touch him and acting in silence, Frank didn't quite know what do to in the situation. "I'm really sorry, Gerard. I want to hug you, but I get that you don't really want to."

Gerard paused, looking up at Frank, and those eyes, at this boy who he really did not deserve, at this boy who really didn't understand but was compensating with just being a fucking nice person. Frank was special, and Gerard was sick to his stomach at the notion of Frank making his way into Gerard's home and finding his body in the bathtub.

He looked up at the light bulb again, focusing upon the light, focusing upon Frank's face illuminated, focusing upon what was real right then in that very moment, but of course, in doing so, he couldn't detract his attention from the way everything seemed to be slipping from his grasp.

"Papillon de nuit." Gerard's words seemed to catch Frank by surprise, and of course the language they were spoken in came to shock him moments later.

"French?" Frank guessed, following Gerard's gaze up to the light bulb, "you sound beautiful speaking French, I mean you always sound beautiful, but you know. I don't have any idea what you're saying, though."

Gerard nodded, smiling at Frank as he pulled his gaze away from the light bulb.

"Is that the point?" He continued, pausing for a moment, "you're upset, you're nervous, or something, and this is easier than trying to make me understand, because maybe I won't? And that makes you nervous?"

"Je pense que tout me rend nerveux." Gerard continued, words beautiful upon his lips, devoid of meaning to Frank, but most certainly not of beauty. In fact, Frank seemed to see Gerard in this beautiful glow constantly.

"I guess nerveux is nervous." Frank blushed a little, "no clue about the rest though- wait, do you not want me to try and guess what you're saying?" Gerard firmly shook his head no at that. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you could speak French, you didn't tell me that." Frank continued, sitting down on a chair pulled up to the kitchen table.

Gerard waited a few moments, eyes fixated upon the light bulb, before joining him. "Il y a beaucoup de choses que je ne te dis pas." He bit his lip, finding an odd comfort in Frank's continued smiles and oblivion, because he could say anything, fuck, like this he could tell Frank the truth, and he wouldn't know, he would never know.

"Are you just saying random words or are you actually responding to me?" Frank continued to ask, a small smile on his lips.

"Nous allons avoir une conversation merveilleuse, seulement tu ne le sais pas." Gerard explained, leaving Frank to laugh a little, growing evermore content in naivety, in just letting Gerard speak, because it certainly seemed better than him saying nothing at all.

Gerard was smiling, and for Frank that was what mattered.

"You totally just could have told me that I'm an asshole, but I'm still smiling at you, how does that feel?" Frank continued only to grin, leaning back in his chair and watching Gerard's lips move as he spoke what seemed to be an inherently beautiful language, only made a million times more beautiful by the boy speaking it.

"Tu n'es pas un connard, tu es magnifique et très spécial à mes yeux. Je ne m'en rends compte que maintenant." Gerard continued, watching Frank's face, watching his reaction, watching him unknowing to all meaning, and still comfortable, still trusting, still trusting in Gerard, letting him speak, say anything.

"Are you going to speak French for the rest of your life now? Or will this end? Any idea when?" Frank asked, not wanting to push it and upset Gerard, but of course he had no idea what he was responding with, so really, Gerard could be telling him how much he hated him right now, but Frank highly doubted it; Gerard didn't seem to be a hateful person at all.

Gerard shook his head to signify a clear no, before continuing in French, "Je ne sais pas. Je suis désolé, merci de tout faire pour essayer de comprendre. Tu es si spécial a mes yeux."

"That's good, I think the meaning behind your words is just as beautiful as the way you speak them." Frank continued, smiling, as Gerard pulled his head away, his expression beginning to falter, because he knew what he needed to do, he needed to tell the truth.

"J'essayais de me tuer un peu plus tôt, et tu me souris parce que tu ne le sauras jamais. J'avais tort. J'ai paniqué parce que j'ai écrit cette lettre mais maintenant elle a disparu et tout le monde peut la lire. J'ai peur, mais ta présence me rassure."

Frank nodded, no longer so focused upon the words coming from Gerard's mouth, but the way they were spoken, but the person speaking them, and how much Gerard meant to Frank.

"Je vais me tuer. Je suis tellement désolé."

Frank sat in silence for a moment, glancing at Gerard, "do you not have anything else to say?"

Gerard shook his head, biting his lip, and reaching for Frank's hand, holding it tight as he made his way down the corridor to his bedroom.

-

Kat woke up early, again, which was seriously a habit they wanted to destroy with every fiber of their being, but the likelihood of doing so didn't ever seem to appear all that promising.

They just lay there in bed for a few minutes, letting a few glimpses of dawn light make its way through the blinds on their window, as they began to contemplate the world, Gerard, their mother, their father, everything, everything in their life that was giving them hell.

And then suddenly as their cellphone vibrated against the bed beside them, they found themself smiling in light of the one thing in their life that wasn't.

It was just a text message, and in fact, that wasn't what their phone had even notified them of, fuck, the thing had been insistent that they update to the new iOS and well, as far as Kat was concerned, the new iOS could go fuck itself when Pete Wentz had sent them a text message.

Because truth be told, just this one time, it seemed like things might actually work out with Pete, and honestly, Kat was just as shocked by that idea as the rest of the world was.

'Can we meet today? I think I might even like spending time with you?'

And in typical Pete style, the message had been sent at one in the morning, just a while after Kat had fallen asleep, and amidst the events of that night that Kat remained oblivious to: Gerard's darkest secret yet.

'Sure. Not at six am though.'

Kat responded, knowing that Pete wouldn't be up for another for hours now and that they shouldn't bother waiting for a response, as they got to their feet, making their way over to the window and pulling the blinds away, letting the dawn half illuminate the room, letting the day, letting the world in.

Because Kat did a lot for other people, they found themself often crippled with worry for Gerard, for Pete, for their parents, as much as they might hate their mother and father, they just couldn't help but care.

Perhaps this was where the early morning habit had arisen from, because come six am, none of the world was awake yet, and Kat felt themself alone in the quiet and dim light of their bedroom, at peace even, but they knew the moment they stepped outside they'd have to go find Gerard, have to go make sure he was okay, worry if he was speaking again and try to make sense of what could possibly be going on in his head.

And then, then they'd have to worry where their mother was, they'd have to find her drunk and passed out somewhere or already off to work, they'd find her just living, no longer giving a fuck, and when they'd been younger they'd even thought that a mother who didn't give a fuck and let them get on with life would be a good thing, but Kat knew now that it really wasn't the case.

And once they found themselves fairly certain that their mother hadn't died, they'd try again with their father, try again to get him back, try again despite their dislike for him, try again for Gerard, because in a way, Kat had come to realise that out of the many things they did, so many of them were for Gerard.

And still, they wanted to get away, they wanted to trust Frank with Gerard, but they weren't sure they could do that anymore - it had been the alcohol speaking, and Pete had known that, of course he had. Pete knew Kat well, and Kat loved to hate that.

With a sigh, they brushed their hair from their face and made their way out into the hallway, heading straight for Gerard's room: the door open just a little - not how they'd left it the night prior. And as Kat made their way into their older brother's room, they found themself speechless at the sight: Frank, of course.

The two of them, curled up in Gerard's bed, even after Gerard had made Kat aware of the fact that he allegedly didn't want to see Frank.

Kat stood there, staring for a moment, unsure of what to say, what to do, ready to just walk out and wait for the two to wake up on their own and for Gerard to sneak Frank out or something, and then perhaps they could avoid talking about this mess, but no, Frank rolled over in bed and opened his eyes, squinting in the light coming in from the hallway as he met Kat's gaze.

"Morning," Kat offered with a raise of their eyebrows.

"M-morning..." Frank stuttered out, blushing a little, glancing over at Gerard (still asleep), before sitting up at the end of the bed and continuing to address the younger of the two siblings, although due to the nature of the situation, it most certainly didn't seem as such.

"Is he talking?" Kat asking, cutting straight to the chase: no bullshit, fuck it was too goddamn early for bullshit.

"Only in French," Frank explained, "I don't know a word of French, but he had a lot to say. But that was last night and I have this feeling that he might be better now it's morning."

"You have a feeling?" Kat scoffed, resisting the urge to roll their fucking eyes at Frank. "You really don't know anything about Gerard do you?"

"I know that he was upset and he needed someone there for him, so really you should be pretty glad that I was awake at four and was there for him, because where were you, Kat? Asleep." Frank let out a sigh, realising how he was coming off, "you can't be there for him all the time, and you shouldn't expect yourself to be."

"Don't fucking try to tell me shit, Frank, I have a better idea what's going on with my brother than you do-"

"Do you think maybe that perhaps the person who knows Gerard best, is neither you nor I, but Gerard himself?" Frank snapped, leaving Kat storming out of their brother's room in search of their mother.

"Thank you." Frank jumped a little, feeling a hand on his: Gerard.

-

many many thanks to PunkyPumpkin for helping me with the french in this chapter !!! i hope you liked it, tbh im #1 nov 1st trash and i will fight anyone and everyone for this title !!! votes and comments would be CoOl!!! lov u pals !!!