Gerard wasn't entirely sure why he had listened to Frank, perhaps it was simply something about how guilty he felt knowing that Frank sat by him: uttering unaware that he'd be gone in less than forty eight hours, and indeed in less than twenty four now, for it was October 31st, and somehow, it didn't quite feel real.

But he had listened to Frank, and he'd allowed him to drag him home, and he'd watched Kat's face light up in a concoction of shock and delight, and he'd watched as Kat narrowly resisted the urge to utterly disrespect his personal space and pull him into a hug right then and right there, but the three of them had just stood in an odd kind of captivating silence in the kitchen: as if the world around them had grown to a halt in that very moment, and in all honestly, Gerard just wanted to run, to go and lock himself up in his room: a place he'd sworn to himself that he'd never see again, but the world had a funny way of working, and perhaps he did owe Frank and Kat this at least: one last day, his last day, and he'd attend Frank's party and he'd smile and he'd pretend, and indeed everything would be okay with the simple knowledge of what was to come in the morning.

He'd eventually just walked into his bedroom and locked the door behind him, catching the sounds of badly muffled and suppressed yelling from the kitchen: the voices of Kat and Frank, and the subject none other than Gerard himself, and he wasn't at all surprised, and in truth, he didn't care nearly as much as he should have done. He sat there, in his room and let them argue, let the world fall into chaos around him, because here he was, and his death was very much a fixed point and drawing closer and closer by the minute, and everyone lay so naive and unaware.

And Gerard was sorry, but not sorry enough: only sorry because he felt compelled to be so, not sorry because there might have ever been an ounce of regret within him. And in the most blatant truth, Gerard wasn't really sorry at all. And that was okay, because no one would ever have to know.

Come the morning of the 31st: the final day in October, the final day of his final month: a simple twenty four hour countdown, and indeed a means to an end, Gerard sat on bed his bed at nine in the morning, having surprised himself by getting a good eight hours sleep that night, but in truth, he had found himself to be awfully tired yesterday, as there was something about wasting away in the middle of nowhere that was indeed nowhere near as appealing as letting his home fade away around him, as he looked out onto the ocean and found comfort in every single shade of blue he saw.

Gerard was content and perfectly ready for what was to come; he'd found that Kat had finally emptied his draw of pills, but that wasn't an issue, it wasn't an issue at all, in fact, in the odd sense of euphoria that Gerard found taking over his final day, nothing seemed to matter at all.

He had his letters: completed and fine tuned finally, and he had the picture of himself: a picture he'd taken up by a tree upon the hill, and a message scrawled upon the bottom of the polaroid in black marker pen: 'October, G.W. - 'The End'. He glanced over his darkened hazel eyes, and his hair: dark and strewn across his face messily, and the way the colour had almost been drawn completely from his cheeks, and to some degree, he did indeed look dead in that state.

And most importantly, he had Frank's birthday gift, which was perhaps not something Frank might have expected out of his emotionally drained wreck of a boyfriend- Gerard stopped his train of thought to ponder the fact that Frank wouldn't have a boyfriend come tomorrow-... to produce, yet Gerard had laboured over an A5 sized painting of the sea, upon which two black silhouettes stood by the shore, and Gerard knew as he'd created it, that this was what Frank had, and this was what Frank would treasure and remember him by, and somehow, suddenly, his art held worth and impact and meaning to the world, and indeed a part of him wished that it just didn't have to be this way.

Gerard continued to sit in silence as he came to conclude that in a very short amount of time, not only would Frank no longer have a boyfriend, but Kat would no longer have a brother, and his mother would no longer have a son... and his father... hell, he wondered if his father would finally give one single shit, because in truth, a hell of a lot had happened in the space of one October.

He found himself thinking back to the start, back to when there were four people living in this house, back to where there wasn't soon to be two, back to when his father meant the world and cared so much, and his mother yelled, and Kat was called Mikey, and everything was different.

Gerard soon came to realise that he'd bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood; he cursed slightly, and got up, out of bed and wiped his face: bracing himself as he met his reflection in the mirror for what would easily be the final time, and in turn, Gerard found himself fixated upon the last time for everything, because there'd be so many lasts for him today, and therefore, every moment held some significance, and indeed his heart began to beat with a little more meaning.

Because it was becoming apparent that he was only capable of finding worth in something as it was slipping right through his fingertips. Regardless of the hope of worth, however, he let it slip, and let everything go, because it wasn't worth enough - it could never be so.

-

Gerard made it out of his bedroom and down the hallway, and into the kitchen by twenty minutes past ten that morning, and indeed found himself just a little shocked to see not only Kat stood by the countertop, but Frank, also: both of them turned their heads in his direction as he made it into the room, and in consequence, Gerard made a specific effort to avoid eye contact with either of them, and simply made his way over to the cupboard and poured himself a glass of water.

From the way Kat and Frank were stood so close together, it was rather apparent that they'd been engaged in some form of conversation before Gerard had walked in, and from the prolonged silence, it was rather apparent that they were rather hesitant to continue it, which left Gerard to assume the likelihood that the subject related to him.

He couldn't find it within himself to give all that much of a fuck, though, and simply finished his glass of water, before grabbing a slice of bread and a plate, before placing the bread into the toaster.

And it was a good three minutes since he'd entered the room, as he was waiting for his bread to be toasted, that the silence that was finally broken.

It was Frank that did it, with a simple, "Gerard?" that had Gerard freezing on the spot, because fuck, he found himself so unprepared for conversation, and especially a conversation that held any kind of importance, as he could only assume this was one was, considering the tone of sincerity that had Frank's voice quavering slightly under its pressure.

The toaster let out a pop to signify that his toast was ready, and Gerard took it from the machine and placed it down on the plate, and buttered it rather half hearted, before finally turning around to face his sibling and his boyfriend. "Yes?"

"So..." Frank let out a deep sigh, glancing across at Kat, who seemed to have seen it coming and made a definite attempt to look sternly at Gerard, and absolutely no one else. "Me and Kat have been talking, and well, we spoke about you, and we're very worried about you, and we think you should... you should- no, you have to take your medication."

"And actually do it." Kat added: their tone far less cautious than Frank's, "actually fucking do it, Gerard, not just hide everything away, because you can't fucking do that: you can't just fucking hide away from the world. Take your medication, right now, whilst we watch."

Gerard shook his head firmly, "I'm not doing that. Not today. Not fucking today."

Frank inhaled sharply and shot Kat a glance: making it evident that perhaps he really wasn't all that keen to deal with the situation at hand.

"What?" Kat's eyes widened as they met Frank's gaze and comprehended what had put that look in his eyes. "You're going to agree with him? You're going to let him do that? You're going to let him not take his meds? You're going to let him ruin his life? You're going to fucking do that, are you, Frank?"

"Kat, I-" Frank stumbled over his words as he searched for an explanation. Gerard took this as a perfectly good opportunity in which to commence the eating of his slice of toast.

"You think that's a good idea? It's like you're working against me here, you know, how you fucking found him and had done for hours, and thought that it was perfectly fine just to let me worry about him, and start fucking crying, thinking something had seriously happened to him, when you were right there with him and you fucking knew everything!" Kat had evidently lost all the chill they'd ever possessed in their life in the space of the last forty eight hours, and Gerard knew that Frank didn't deserve the full force of it.

"It was my fault," He spoke up, looking between Kat and Frank, who were perhaps not quite so accustomed to Gerard volunteering information and speech casually, and indeed, it wasn't particularly characteristic of him, but this was his last fucking day alive, and nothing that had once meant anything seemed to matter, and everything that had always meant nothing, meant the world. "I asked him to just stay with me for a while, just us there and not go back or tell you, yet." Kat's eyes widened slightly: partly unable to process just what Gerard was telling them. "I'm sorry, I just- I was scared. I still am scared, because you're both all expectations, and okay, maybe I'm not okay, but I.. I can't take those pills - they make everything worse!"

Kat appeared to be pondering his words for a good few moments, whilst Frank spoke up: his voice perhaps even more nervous than it had been before. "Couldn't he try some different pills? Like he gets a different prescription?"

Kat nodded, looking up at Gerard and meeting his eyes with intent, "so if we go and ask for an alternative prescription in like in a few days time or something, you promise you'll take those and at least try them out?"

Gerard let a small fall over his lips and nodded, because holy fuck, he could promise the world to everyone, as long as he had to hand it over in a few days time, because in a few days time, there'd be nothing left of him to give, and Gerard felt as if he owed it to himself to play on their naivety, because he struggled to think better of himself, when he cared so little in regards to what the world could assume of him in his last few hours, because everything was so fucking temporary and nothing mattered.

"I promise."

And in that moment, at half past ten on October the 31st, it was all smiles in the Way household, but they were indeed smiles that would not last.

-

Kat had been hesitant at first, but both Frank and Gerard had ensured them that everything would be fine, and that they could survive without their presence for a few hours, and that had left Kat only more hesitant, of course, because Kat was all suspicion and over worrying until the world split in two, and in truth, Frank saying he'd look after Gerard meant just as little to Kat as it meant to Gerard, who was planning to kill himself in the morning, but still, Kat had let Gerard and Frank convince them, because they did want to wish this all away.

As for the past few days, it was like their every single thought was comprised of a crippling worry relating to Gerard and/or Frank, and/or their relationship, which was something that Kat had only just gotten accustomed to at this point, and they needed a break, and to top it all off, they'd hardly spoken to Pete over the past few days as a result of the mess, and that really wasn't helping matters at all.

So Kat had thrown common sense and hesitance out of the window in favour of themself and their boyfriend, because they could be selfish, sure as hell they could, and sure as hell, they would, even if just once, even when it didn't appear to selfish to anyone else, because everyone else lived blind to the mess that was unfolding around them, because the thing was, Kat wasn't sure as to how, or even why, but they had this odd sense that something just wasn't quite off, and that it was also a very big and very important something, and this coupled by the obvious nonchalance and casual tones in Frank and Gerard's conversation left them tearing themself into pieces, because it was becoming awfully clear that there was nothing they could to do to either dull or justify this sensation.

And so, they found themself, after a ten minute walk through town, at Pete Wentz' doorstep, and as they rang the doorbell, they found themself contemplating every time they'd been here: unexpected, waiting out in a slight drizzle, and how every other time it had been after a fuck up or a fight with someone else, or a need to get away from the world, and how Kat had always viewed Pete as some form of safety net, who'd always be there to catch them, and how that had been so wrong of them, because Pete was a fucking person- and... and it wasn't like that this time.

Kat swore it wasn't like that this time.

And they didn't have quite long enough to come down to questioning the credibility of their prior statement before the door opened, to reveal a rather sleepy looking Pete Wentz stood in the doorway: dark hair sticking up at all angles, and wearing nothing more than an oversized grey hoodie.

Kat let out a small chuckle, "it's like eleven, Pete, you should have been out of bed already." They made their way inside and left Pete to yawn and stretch as he closed the door behind them.

"If I don't have to be out of bed, I'm not going to be out of bed," Pete let a lazy kind of smile fall across his features as he followed Kat into the living room, where they'd sat down with their legs curled up to their chest on the rather questionable, mustard coloured sofa. "You, though, this, though. This is a nice surprise. I've missed seeing you so much."

Kat nodded, "mmm..." They watched as Pete sat down beside them, leaning into their shoulder slightly, in a way that made Kat's arm ache, but they weren't at all inclined to ask Pete to stop or move at all, because this was it: this was the escape, this was the happiness, this was the fuzzy feeling in his chest that multiplied too fast and took over the whole world. "Me too."

"Is everything okay now?" Pete asked: having been vaguely informed via text message of the whole situation concerning Gerard, but in no degree of detail.

Kat shook their head, because if there was anything they had learned, it was that there was no point in lying to Pete Wentz, not anymore; they'd made that mistake too many fucking times. "He's back but... it's not right. There's like this unsettling feeling, like fucking unavoidable, overwhelming feeling of dread that is crushing everything inside of me, just fucking screaming at me that something's not right, but never screaming what or how to fix it or what the fuck to do, and it's no help, and it just leaves me paranoid and in a wreck, and-"

"Hey... hey... hey..." Pete reached for Kat's hand, giving it a squeeze and allowing them to breathe for a few moments. "It could be nothing, you know?"

"Doesn't fucking feel like nothing." Kat snapped before their could stop themself, then glancing up at Pete a moment later with a timid, apologetic expression.

"It's okay," Pete mumbled slightly, leaning closer and pressing a kiss to Kat's forehead, "it's all okay. Hey, I promise you, things will be okay. It's my friend Frank's birthday party today- we could go to that-"

Kat looked up at Pete oddly, "it's my friend Frank's birthday today. I'm already going to that."

Pete let out an awkward kind of laugh, "do you think maybe we have the same friend called Frank?"

"Maybe," Kat offered with an awkward shrug, "Frank Iero? Short, bit of a fuckboy, naive as fuck but means well, dark hair, emo as shit-"

"Yeah, yeah, Frank Iero." Pete nodded, smiling, "that's a pretty accurate description you got there, do you know him well? He's one of my best friends, we're in most of the same classes at school."

"He's not so much of my friend, but he is my friend, I mean, well I met him first, about at the start of this month, and he let me stay at his place overnight after this argument, and well we became friends, and he accepted my gender really well, so that really meant alot to me, and then, well, then it turns out... well... he's more of Gerard's friend, he's like Gerard's only friend, best friend, and then they started dating, but yeah... I know Frank Iero."

"They started dating?" Pete exclaimed: eyes wide, "I didn't know he was gay- wait, what I-"

"Fuck..." Kat cursed, rolling their eyes slightly, "okay, I didn't say anything, okay?"

"Yeah," Pete nodded, "I mean, I don't mind, course I don't mind, but well... wow, I thought he would have mentioned it?"

"Well, did you ever mention anything about your sexuality?" Kat asked, eyebrows raised slightly.

"Well..." Pete trailed off, "no, but... I mean..."

"There you go." Kat smiled slightly, leaning into Pete's side, "there you go."

"So we're going to this party then?" Pete continued to ask, running a hand back through his hair.

"Yeah, I mean, I've got to keep an eye on Gerard." Kat explained, sighing slightly. "I mean, Frank says he can, but... he just... it's... so... it's just... he doesn't fucking know what he's doing. He thinks Gerard entirely lacks the capability to lie about anything, and the moment Gerard looks at him, he fucking melts and lets him do whatever he wants and ruin his own life. He's just not responsible."

"He's sixteen- well, seventeen now. He's not an adult, he's not supposed to be responsible. He's just supposed to be a good boyfriend, isn't he? And Gerard is seventeen too, he can look after himself to an extent, can't he? Don't kill me for saying this, but I don't think you should baby him so much. Would you act the same if he wasn't autistic? Just because he's got-"

"It's not the fucking autism, Pete, that's fucking nothing to do with anything, it's the fucking fact that he's depressed and unpredictable and never opens up or says anything, and will openly lie- and fuck, it's the fact he kept a drawer full of hundreds of pills in his bedroom for months and months without anyone knowing, and it's the fact that those were the pills he was supposed to be taking, and it's the fact that Frank doesn't seem to care so much about the implications of that, like he can't even imagine them."

Pete was very silent for quite a while after that, and in truth, Kat couldn't bring themself to blame him. "I'm sorry, I just want you to be happy. I hate that you have to spend so much time worrying about him."

"I hate it too." Kat continued, before they could stop themself. "No, I don't mean that. I don't mean it- I-"

"Hating worrying about him isn't the same thing as hating him or blaming him." Pete reminded them.

Kat nodded, "I know, I still... I just... I can't say that. I can't."

-

Gerard and Frank had taken to sitting in Gerard's room once Kat had left for Pete's house, and throughout the course of a good twenty minutes, the pair had said very little, and had indeed just resorted to sitting curled up in bed together.

"Happy birthday." Gerard finally said, once the two had found themselves comfortable in the process of time passing generally around them like the wind, and passing them by as if they resided only in their own little bubble.

Frank stared blankly at Gerard for quite a few moments before actually managing to process that despite all this mess, Gerard was indeed right, and it was indeed his birthday. "Oh... shit... yeah... thank you." He paused for a moment: taking in the fact that here he was: seventeen years old and he'd barely even given it an ounce of thought amidst all of this. "I am, aren't I? I kind of forgot..." He let out an awkward kind of half laugh, and Gerard offered him a small smile in response before getting up off the bed and walking over to his desk, opening a few drawers before pulling out an A5 sized piece of paper and holding it up so only he could see for a few moments, before letting out a sigh.

"It's not..." He stumbled over his own words: unable to quite look Frank in the eyes, "I made you this, but it's not very good, but happy birthday..." He let out an awkward sigh as he held it out to Frank.

Frank's eyes widened slightly as he held the painting in his hands: breath escaping him in a startled gasp, "oh my god... Gerard, this is fantastic... this is amazing... this is beautiful..." He stumbled over his own words as his eyes scanned over the piece: desperate to take in every aspect of the painting Gerard had made for him, because in truth, he hadn't been expecting anything at all, but before him lay an ocean scene, complete with two figures holding hands by the shore.

Gerard blushed slightly as he sat down beside Frank, looking over his shoulder at his own work: it taking everything he had not to spew out his hatred and point out every flaw and imperfection that was highlighted in red: screaming loudly at him as he scoured the piece.

"That's..." Gerard trailed off, attempting to say something: anything, as he suddenly felt it expected of him. "That's us." He reached out and pointed to the two figures by the shore, "me and you. I didn't know if I was going to add us, but I... I thought I should, because I don't want this to be any ocean, I want this to be our ocean, our shore, our painting, our skyline, our moments."

And in truth, Frank had to struggle not to cry as he pulled Gerard into a hug, and choked out a breathy kind of, "I love you," into his chest.

Gerard held him there: silent and still, and Frank was perhaps too fixated upon the gift to take note of the lack of response upon Gerard's part.

-

Gerard had never been one for parties, but indeed Gerard had never been one for living and smiling, but somehow he'd managed the both of them for far too long, and as his final night, and Frank's birthday, he felt as if he owed this to him somehow.

Of course, Gerard didn't owe anybody anything, he just felt like he should, because he understood that people cared about him - that had never been the issue, he just didn't want to live and grow old and keep his head in check, and somehow it had kind of gotten to the point where he'd been stuck in this odd depressive state for so long that he had difficulty in recalling what had caused this all in the first place, but that didn't matter: nothing mattered as he continued to find himself awfully content in the end of everything.

Gerard had found certain anxieties within the prospect of the night before him, but he'd brushed them aside, as he'd made his way over to the corner of the living room and sat down cross legged as he listened to the sounds of Frank inviting people in, because he just had to be here, he just had to pull off happiness and recovery for one final night, and then everything could fall into pieces: pieces that had been carefully planned to fall into place.

Gerard found himself getting lost in the scenery and the colours of Frank's house and how it seemed to feel different with people in it, to the extent that he found himself dissociating completely, until he found a familiar presence by his side: a presence in the form of none other than Frank himself: reaching out his hand and pulling him up to his feet.

"Are you alright?" Frank offered him a concerned sort of half smile as Gerard let Frank pull him to his feet: having resided to just letting the world happen around him for the time being, for there would very soon be a time when he no longer had to endure it at all.

"Yeah." Gerard offered him an awkward half hearted smile, allowing Frank to take his hand and lead him across the room, to where a small group of people, who Gerard assumed to be Frank's friend's had gathered.

"Hey..." Frank coughed slightly: grabbing the attention of the group with an odd kind of blush upon his face, leaving Gerard standing there, looking around at the group, and finding himself recognising Lindsey immediately: who offered him a small smile. "So, I have something to say, well, this is Gerard, and he's my boyfriend."

And from the importance held in Frank's words, and the way it was evident that he'd been building the confidence to say that for a while hit hard in Gerard's chest, because come twelve hours time and he needn't have bothered, because sure, Gerard was his boyfriend now, but there'd be no Gerard left very soon, and everyone in the room lived oblivious to that, and Gerard couldn't deny that he fucking loved it.

"Oh..." Came an undefinable, yet vaguely positive kind of response from a boy with a mass of brown curly hair. "Nice to meet you, Gerard," he turned to Gerard, who immediately felt sick in the abundance of attention upon him.

Gerard gave him an awkward kind of stiff nod, before glancing around the group of people, and speaking mostly to Lindsey, who he found some form of comfort in, as he spoke, "uhh... nice to meet you all."

There was a general consensus of nodding and smiles, and Gerard found relief in Frank loosening his grip on his hand, and allowing him to slip off through the house as Frank continued to converse with his friends.

Gerard found himself making his way upstairs, and into Frank's bedroom: pressing his fist carelessly in the vague direction of the lightswitch and sitting down upon the window sil. He focused upon the darkness outside: upon the world and what he would see of it.

In thirty minutes or so time, he jumped slightly at the sound of the door creaking open, and Frank making his way into the room: his eyes slightly up noticeably at the sight of Gerard. "You're alright," he let out a sigh, "I thought for a moment you'd run off again. I was worried I'd done something."

Gerard only gave a vague nod as Frank sat down beside him on the window sill: not quite daring to consider Frank's position come to tomorrow morning, and how he might think that was his fault too, but this was much bigger than him, and as harsh as it sounded, Frank was nothing in comparison to the way he felt inside.

"So, my friends seem to like you." Frank offered him an awkward kind of smile. "That's some good news. I was fucking terrified, you know?"

Gerard nodded slowly: trying not to feel too bad, for fear that he might somehow just blurt it all out with less than half a day to go. "If they didn't like you because of your sexuality, then they shouldn't be your friends."

"Yeah, but it's not that - it's you. I want them to like you: you're important, you matter." Frank continued: utterly oblivious and crushing Gerard's heart with every word.

"You matter." Gerard told him: not quite daring to meet his gaze. "You matter a lot. Promise me, you're going to be okay?"

"What do you mean?" Frank asked: confusion evident upon his face.

Gerard shrugged slightly, "I just don't want you to be sad, you know?"

"I'm gonna be sad sometimes." Frank's face broke into a smile, "I'm only human. But everything's better now, everything's better now I have you."

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Gerard's lips, and Gerard could taste alcohol on his lips, and Gerard let him kiss him even though he didn't really want him to, because it was drawing close to midnight on October 31st, and Frank was smiling.

Frank was smiling into the kiss, and Gerard just let everything happen.

Gerard closed his eyes and let the world happen around him.

Only to have them flicker upon come 23:59, displayed in red numbers on the clock on Frank's bedside table, and in turn, watch those red numbers flicker over onto 0:00.

And like that, the date was November 1st.

-

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