"Well he seemed broken-hearted, something within him. But the moment I first laid eyes on him all alone, on the edge of seventeen."
— 'Edge of Seventeen' Stevie Nicks
——

The imminent death Frank braced himself for was treacherously encased in ice outside.

In other words, Frank wasn't sure how to walk down the path and into the driveway to get inside his truck without slipping to his death when the concrete was nearly entirely crystallized with ice. After a heavy rainfall lasting a majority of the night, the low temperature caused the water to freeze over the ground, even going as far as to frost the greenery surrounding the neighborhood, icicles looming threateningly above where they trickled down from the roof's edges in temporary stillness. Frank would rather there be snow than ice causing him to become overwrought with anxiety. His heart thumped wildly imagining the deathly consequences of driving against the black ice patching the roads, completely inescapable. He stared out the window in distress minutes before it was time for him to drive off to the classes his mother insisted he attended, guaranteeing the safety of the snow chains laced across the sturdy tires made for frigid conditions.

"What if I die?" Frank worried the strap of the backpack slung across his shoulder by picking at a thread coming undone on the inseam.

"You're not going to die." Linda clicked her tongue. "Don't be dramatic. I've driven during these conditions lots of times."

"You've been driving longer than I have."

"Just go slow and be careful while making turns." Linda carried on insisting Frank wouldn't lock eyes with the Reaper, halfway shoving him in the direction of the door.

"It's not just driving on the roads, what if I fall and crack my head open?" Frank's hands flailed in the direction of the ice glazed ground.

"Then walk slowly. You're going to be late to class, Frank." Linda's slight sternness urged Frank to shed his insecurities about the weather conditions or else she'd be very displeased.

Avoiding all levels of dissatisfaction, Frank heaved a deep breath as he pried the door open, his hand lingering on the knob for a moment. He'd fallen in worse conditions, such as the time he skidded across the road on a skateboard for the first time and hit a pothole, sending himself flying onto the unforgiving roughness of the floor heavily scraping his palms and knees taking the burden of the landing. There was still a jagged scar on his right knee from the incident, protruding ever so slightly from the rest of his skin, and Frank found himself absentmindedly stroking along the shiny battle scar whenever he zoned out. Frank warily examined the ground while stepping outside and immediately grabbed for any supporting railings, hearing his mother make a sound of amused exasperation behind him. He shot a indignant look over his shoulder while making his way towards the driveway path.

Halfway down the cement without slipping so much, Frank's predictions proved to be triumphant. In a lapse of judgement, Frank thought it would be smarter to take large steps to avoid stepping along the ice for longer than necessary. He vowed to never trust his theories over instinct again as his foot skidded across a sheet of ice camouflaged by the light shade of the driveway and sent him falling onto his ass on the floor in a pile of flailing limbs. Frank yelled at the impact, immediately grabbing at the tire of his truck resting nearby, and hysterical laughter ripped through him as a coping mechanism for the soreness flaring all the way up his spine.

"Are you okay?" Linda called out from the front door in  deep concern after witnessing Frank fall.

Frank's head whipped around and he noticed Linda was clumsily starting to make her way out the door, but Frank shouted at her to stop with a hand in the air.

"It's fine, I'm fine!" Frank stuttered over his words. "I don't want you to fall, too."

"But you need help getting up!"

"It's okay. I can pull myself up." Frank groaned and clutched onto whatever was in reach to haul himself off the ground, gasping whenever his feet slipped, but he managed to fully stand upright. He twisted around to glance at his jeans, wiping off fragments of ice lingering on the back, and he frowned deeply at the developing soreness settling insistently under his skin. He wondered if he'd landed hard enough to bruise; his skin was rather delicate in the infuriating way where he appeared more fragile than the actuality of what he could tolerate.

"Be careful, Frank, please. If you hurt yourself, call me immediately."

"I think the smart thing would be to call an ambulance." Frank grumbled. Although he hated to draw much attention to himself, if any bones were to shatter, he found it more ideal to dial an ambulance rather than his mother.

Waving goodbye to Linda, Frank carefully maneuvered into his truck, the door heavily slamming shut in his wake. Cranking the heater on at full force, Frank took a moment to allow the truck's engine to warm before cautiously pulling out of the driveway. On the way to school, Frank carefully trekked along the roads with his hands clutched tight around the steering wheel. His gloved fingers and the assistance of the heater managed to keep him from shivering at the weather, but he knew the moment he stepped outdoors again, the cold would instantly soak through his clothe. His body wasn't used any temperature that wasn't dry and typically warm, causing him to nearly freeze solid sat weather under sixty degrees. Frank's tongue fiddled with and tugged at his lip ring while maneuvering his truck towards the school, breathing a sigh of heavy relief when he was near enough to begin turning into the parking lot. The other scattering of cars entering the lot carefully slid across the ground to avoid slipping against the random sheets of black ice crystallizing the blacktop. Frank anxiously kept his eyes stapled to the road, easing into an open parking space.

Frank twisted the keys out of the ignition once he was successfully parked. He puckered his lips glancing out the window, pocketing the keys. He retrieved his phone to text his mother that he arrived safely for her sake. Frank retrieved his bag from the back of the cab nd pried the door open to step out into the morning awaiting outside. He inhaled the thick scent of rain saturating the pine and spruce trees standing tall in the borders of the school premises. His exhale materialized before him in a vapor cloud he batted away, but each time air filtered through his nostrils, he resembled a fire breathing dragon preparing to throw a streamer of murderous flames. Frank checked the snow chains secured around the tires, dusting at the cracked ice between the plaits. Frank slung his bag over his shoulder and began walking, noticing it felt lighter than normal. At the realization, he stilled at the further end of his truck sticking out from the row of cars he settled between. His brows puckered and he shrugged the bag off and into his awaiting hands.

Digging through his items, Frank's insides sparked with shock to realize he'd forgotten to ask for an important notes binder for one of his classes back after lending it to Frances at the cafè the previous day. It slipped both of their minds, apparently, and Frank vaguely recalled Frances mentioning she wouldn't be present at school that day to attend an anti-police violence protest out of town. Frank swore under his breath, slapping a hand against his forehead. The binder was filled with vital notes he took to aid him on his History test that afternoon, notes Frances quickly glanced over to copy down onto her own notebook for the make-up test she was bound to take when she returned. Frank shook his head, knowing it wasn't entirely anyone's fault, and began to zip his bag shut.

A peculiar feeling washed over him in the process. Frank paused, lifting his eyes and glancing around. From across the parking lot, his gaze met Gerard Way's practically piercing into him from the distance. Again, with faint frustration scribbled into Gerard's pale features, and a livened curiosity the moment Frank met his eyes. Frank shivered, uncertain if it was due to the cold or the relentless intensity taking permanent residence in Gerard's eyes. Frank felt the collision of glaciers inside him once again and he tore his eyes away the instant it took ahold of him. What was Gerard Way staring at him for? Was he contemplating another string of personal questions or orchestrating Frank's murder? There was never a crossroads between them, it had to be either or, based on the observations Frank made. Huffing, Frank glanced up again, finding Gerard was looking away that time, but with his head tilted in the same direction as before. Frank fixed his jaw and yanked his backpack entirely shut. The aggressiveness of the motion must have been notable; Gerard glanced Frank's way again, revealing nothing in his expression, but Frank couldn't avoid the mystifyingly unorthodox aura reaching to where Frank was planted, the strongest of all energies he had ever sensed. It was nearly impossible to make full sense of, all of the rivers of ice cascading into the anguished waterfalls hidden deepest in the shadows.

A sudden high pitched shrieking noise startled Frank sharply out of his fleeting fixation. The sound of it made him flinch, but the source was unknown to him. Frank looked around with large eyes, finding other students doing the same, turning their heads in search of the location. Suddenly, it grew much louder, nearer. Alarmed cries began rising out of students in the direction Frank's back was turned to. Automatically, Frank turned, fright cooling his blood like the ice dripping from the spruce tree branches. His eyes wheeled around and finally made sense of a vehicle, a sturdy van, sliding wildly across the perilous ground. The tires couldn't find a steady grip on the blacktop, causing the van to lose control, but what caused Frank's entire body to seize up into an immobile statue of horror was the realization that the screeching van jaggedly cutting through the parking lot at an alarming speed was headed towards him.

The options were unfairly limited. If Frank threw himself to the left, no movement was quick enough, and the van would crush him against the outer corner of the truck, undoubtedly killing or critically injuring him. If he cowered between the truck and the car beside him, the van would collide with the car, and sending it barreling into him, also crushing him. Either way, his bones would shatter, or something would tear and rupture, a chain of undeserving injuries. The impending doom was so severe that, for the second Frank's heart stilled, all he could think about was his home in California, his father, and his mother who likely wouldn't forgive herself for pushing him to leave to school in icy weather.

Frank couldn't move, each of his limbs solidified. His eyes open as wide as possible skated around so quickly, locking with the eyes of a horrified Gerard Way across the lot. Then, Frank shot one final glance at the van, flinching his eyes shut to brace for the imminent killing impact.

Except, no killing impact arrived. Frank felt something solid shielding his entire body, sending him flying towards the ground. The back of his head thumped on the blacktop in a mildly sharp pain shooting through his skull, and he was sliding across the solid floor, wrapped up in the armor materializing out of nowhere. The sound of metal clashing together and shattering glass deafened Frank, his ears ringing from both the throb in his head and the noise. Another screeching sound and a heavy crash thundered beyond his senses being frazzled by the rapid series of events moving too quickly to comprehend. Darkness lived behind Frank's tightly shut lids trembling from the effort. The van groaned hoarsely, the engine sizzling, and the noises finally came to a halt. Frank's body violently trembled, frantically bouncing over questions; what just happened? Why wasn't he dead? How did he manage to escape the impact without more pain than the dull ache residing at the back of his skull? It was impossible.

Voices swirled around him. Frank dizzily swam through them until one became clear, an unexpected harmony shaping around his name. Frank's inhale was broken and shaky, and he slowly pried his eyes open. They met Gerard's large and petrified stare boring into him. The more Frank's sluggish brain process his surroundings, he came to realize the solid armor shaping around him was the circle of Gerard's arms holding him protectively against his body in an iron grip. Frank breathed raggedly, slowly turning his head. The van careening towards Frank collided with the corner of his truck and the back of the other vehicle beside him, bruised and surrounded by broken glass shards that rained onto the ground. There was a deep indentation in the side of the van— more like a crater, in the shape of two solid hands pounding against the door to stop it.

"What?" Frank's shrill voice sounded too fragile and breathy for it to be his. He was limp in Gerard's arms— Gerard's arms? Impossible.

"Frank? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Gerard's hurriedly concerned words took a moment to sink in.

Frank's eyes snapped up. He stared at Gerard hard, ignoring the ache in his head, the pounding of his heartbeat noisily pulsing through him. "How did you— how did you get here so fast?"

Gerard's unnaturally bright eyes flashed. He shook his head quickly, looking around when they were being surrounded by shouting students running towards the scene. "I was walking towards you right before this happened."

"You were over there." Frank jabbed a finger in the opposite direction. "I saw you."

"You turned away before you saw me coming over."

"No!" Frank snapped.

Gerard's face screwed up in frustration, then it melted into one of deep concern. "You hit your head. Are you okay? Please be careful."

Frank focused on the blow he took to the back of his head. It throbbed, and he hissed, cupping it gingerly. He brought his hand in front of his face and breathed out in relief to find no blood stained his fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment and quick shuddering noise broke through the air.

"I'm— I'm fine. You did this." Frank opened his eyes and meant to stare at the indentation in the van— only, it was no longer there. His jaw unhinged. It was there only a second ago.

Gerard said nothing. Instead, he carefully swept Frank up in his arms, barely wincing at the weight, and began carrying him around the tangle of cars. Frank's eyes flew open, protesting, until the sound of the frightened students flocking the parking lot overpowered the sound of him.

He raised his voice. "Put me down, my legs are fine!"

"You might lose your balance." Gerard dismissed.

"I don't have brain damage, for fuck's sake, and I'm not a girl." Frank growled, cheeks flushing with humiliation.

Gerard's eyes flashed again and he stiffened. To Frank's surprise, he wordlessly set Frank onto his feet beside the unscathed side of his truck, and stepped back. Frank stared at him, clutching the lip of the truck bed. Gerard refused to meet his stare.

Before Frank could demand what happened, he was circled by classmates informing him an ambulance was on its way, asking if he was okay, thanking god he was alive and unharmed for the most part. The owner of the van, a gangly boy named Justin, broke through the crowd in worse condition, babbling hysterical apologies. Some of the attention was redirected to him, reliving Frank partially, and he tried to let Justin know the accident wasn't his fault.

Adam and Ray burst through the crowd looking paler and more serious than Frank had ever seen them. Ray gently grabbed Frank's arm when he took a step and almost slipped on the ice, and Adam's eyes bulged out. Frank was immediately overwhelmed and lightheaded from the surge of anxiety and a sense of danger hitting him where it rolled off of everyone else. He pretended it was a matter of his head, cupping the back of his skull.

"What the fuck, Frank? How are you alive?" Adam gaped.

"I . . . I don't know." Frank whispered. He couldn't explain to them what occurred when he wasn't so certain he read it correctly himself, and not where others could hear him. He glanced over his shoulder at Gerard who stood at a careful distance, as stony as ever. His stomach turned and for a moment, some of the shock erupted and raked over him in a nauseating current.

"Some people are saying Gerard pulled you out of the way?" Ray asked. He was guarded, but very concerned, asking in a hushed voice.

Frank didn't answer. He shut his eyes in an attempt to push away the intense vibrations of emotion plundering him and the upset churning of his stomach, groaning softly. His friends kept awkward hands on him so he wouldn't topple over. Frank turned away and leaned against the side of his truck, bending to press his forehead against the icy exterior. Ray reassured him the ambulance was approaching as quickly as possible, but it didn't alleviate Frank. The tension wouldn't fade because it wasn't all his own, at least, temporarily. He was fully certain he spiraled into shock.

Frank kept his eyes shut when he was analyzed and carried away by the paramedics, laid out on a stretcher with something supporting his head after they were informed of the little impact he took. His eyes snapped open when Gerard climbed into the vehicle.

"Seriously? Are you playing superhero?" Frank mumbled accusingly.

"For one, I'm more like an unconventional savior, and second, they asked me to come." Gerard said patiently as the doors shut and he was seated beside the stretcher.

"People at school are gonna act like you're a God for . . . whatever you did back there." Frank's mouth went dry and he forced himself to look up at the ceiling of the ambulance.

Gerard laughed mirthlessly. "The likeliness of that is extremely slight, Frank."

Frank ignored the way his voice danced around his name. He closed his eyes again and willed himself to focus on the swaying motions of the truck making its way to the hospital. Gerard remained silent, and Frank preferred the quiet, but it made room for his thoughts to intrude now that some of the shock subsided. He revisited the events that were mostly painted in black when he kept his eyes shut, but he easily recalled the sounds, the solid body yanking him out of the way, and the deep indentation in the side of the van that somehow managed to come to a crashing halt before it could crush anyone. Frank didn't think it was possible for anyone to halt a van moving so speedily that there was barely time for Frank to react the way he did. According to what he remembered, his eyes locked with Gerard a second before he shut his eyes in preparation for either death or searing pain taking ahold of his body. Gerard claimed to be making his way towards Frank in that moment, but Frank's memory begged to differ.

Frank's eyes slowly pried open. He turned his head slightly, going to discreetly glance at Gerard, to find Gerard's eyes were resting on his face. Frank's lips parted and he was ensnared in the intensity of Gerard's heavy gaze. He felt it again; anguish. Crippling enough to make Frank's throat swell and his tear ducts tighten. Gerard gave away his level of concern torn between an internal conflict Frank couldn't pinpoint. He wasn't capable of reading minds, only emotions, and even that was to an extent. Frank's breathing hitched and Gerard looked away quickly to stare at the ground instead.

The ambulance arrived at the hospital in a flash. Frank was rushed in to be seen by the doctor as quickly as possible. He sat in a room filled with beds separated by privacy curtains, but it did nothing to conceal the constant apologies coming from Frank's neighbor who happened to be the driver of the vehicle causing the collision. Frank tried to insist everything was forgiven, but Justin kept babbling apologies. Frank rolled his eyes and rubbed at his temples with his back turned to him, tuning out the excessive apologies.

Gerard entered the open space Frank reserved after searching for his mother with a preference for her assisting Frank, knowing she was one of the most professional and skilled doctors in the medical field.

"She'll be seeing you in a few minutes." Gerard announced.

"I don't need a highly refined doctor for something that could be nothing." Frank gently pressed the tenderness at the back of his head, barely wincing.

"Internal and external are two separate things. You could be concussed." Gerard rose an eyebrow.

"Do I look concussed?" Frank challenged. He met Gerard's eyes and didn't falter keeping his stare intact.

Gerard's mouth tightened. He sank down on the plastic seat beside Frank's bed. "That's for the doctor to find out."

Frank sighed. He swung the leg folded under him down and let both dangle, frowning when his feet didn't quite touch the ground. The lack of extra height made it nearly impossible. "I'm definitely not going back to school after this."

"Why not?"

"I don't want everyone hovering around me pretending they care. I'll take concern from my friends, that's it." Frank scowled in dismay imagining becoming the popular topic again, word spreading all across town. He felt slightly dehumanized by it.

"Wouldn't you be concerned if your classmate was nearly ground into dust?" Gerard cocked his head slightly to the side.

Frank stared and his eyes narrowed. "I'd be more focused on their savior that materialized out of nowhere. And stopped a van from crushing them."

Gerard's posture went rigid. He clenched his jaw and Frank mirrored the pose, irked by Gerard's attempt to plant another story in Frank's head as if he was a fool with no original thoughts.

"I told you what happened, Frank." Gerard whispered so no eavesdroppers could listen.

Frank leaned in and lowered his voice just the same, not missing Gerard's hands curling into tight fists at his sides. "Don't take me for an idiot. I know exactly what I saw."

"You hit your head on the hard floor. You must've seen things wrong." Gerard's burning eyes pulsed like they were alive.

"There was a massive crater in the fucking van. Did you manhandle it to get it back into shape?" Frank hissed.

"There was nothing there. I sprinted and shoved you out of the way, that's all that happened." Gerard leaned back far in his chair, his nostrils flaring.

Frank leaned back as well. He glared at Gerard while puzzling over the encounter in his mind, seeing fragments scramble together and create a muddy picture Gerard sought to rearrange in his way. Frank knew there was a crater, it burned into his memory like the kiss of a branding iron, but there was no evidence of it ever existing. That was the only factor forcing Frank to waver.

"I don't appreciate you thinking you can fool me like I'm a brainless imbecile." Frank folded his arms across his chest. "I want the truth."

"I've given you the truth. I don't think you're an imbecile. This is reality, Frank, not a television show." Gerard's refusal spiked fresh infuriation through Frank again.

"I'm not pretending it is!"

"Trust me on this, okay?" Gerard's beguiling eyes nearly seared Frank with their beseeching glimmer. Frank found it hard to concentrate while looking into them.

Before Frank was given the chance to speak again, in the background, he heard the familiar voice of his mother hurriedly asking a staff member where Frank was. His eyes widened and he turned around, seeing Linda speed walk through the open double doors, the epitome of restless worry. Her appearance made Frank's anger melt away for the most part, despite the lingering irritation at the back of his mind. From the corner of his eye, Frank saw Gerard rise from his seat, and he watched in surprise as Gerard swiftly exited the room, disappearing down the hall without glancing back.

"Frank! Are you okay? I came as soon as I got the call." Linda bustled in and flailed her hands like she wanted to touch Frank, but she refrained, helplessly looking him over.

"I'm alive." Frank sighed. "I just hit my head. There was no blood."

"I'm so relieved." Linda pulled Frank into a tight hug. Stunned, he didn't respond until a few seconds later, patting his mother's back and flushing at the eyes in the room that glanced at them when they passed by.

"You'd know if I'd been crushed like a soda can." Frank smiled halfheartedly when they pulled away.

"Don't make jokes like that." Linda frowned. "You could've been seriously hurt, Frank."

Or killed, Frank thought ruefully, envisioning the disaster coming out with a worse outcome taking a toll on his mother who seemed horrified enough. The pinch in his chest chastised him for being ever so mildly irritated over the amount of concern.

"Well, I wasn't. I just hit my head a little hard." Frank halfheartedly waved around his head.

"Where is that doctor?" Linda impatiently looked around the room.

"Gerard said the doctor would be in shortly." Frank struggled not to let his tone go dry when mentioning the frustratingly enigmatic savior of his.

"Gerard? Do you mean Dr. Way's son?" Linda's eyes were wide.

Frank hesitated, sighing softly. "Yes. He pushed me out of the way."

"Is he alright?" Linda asked shrilly.

Frank winced, but covered it up by rubbing his nose harshly. "He's perfectly fine." Not a single scrape, no evidence that he stopped the vehicle from obliterating Frank other than his presence in the end.

"Actually," Frank began to mention before Linda launched into an interrogation, "The kid who was driving is in worse condition. They took him somewhere else for x-rays."

"The damn ice . . . school shouldn't be in session in these conditions." Linda crossed arms over her chest, her brows puckered with two lines creasing between them. "I'm so sorry I made you go, Frank, I didn't think it would be this bad."

"Don't kick yourself for it, mom. I'm fine."

"You were almost not fine."

Frank's intentions to response were stolen away by the arrival of the doctor making her presence known as she walked towards him and his mother. Frank's eyes darted over to Gerard who followed in her stride, his face revealing nothing more than a smoothed over look of calm composure. Frank focused on the doctor beaming as she closed in with her hands clasped together.

"Frank Iero. The son of one of my favorite nurses!" Dr. Way cheerfully greeted.

Frank struggled not to let his mouth fall open in her presence. Dr. Way, as Frank should've suspected, was just as exquisite as her adoptive and biological children. Her mane of wavy golden hair framed her pale face, her hazel green eyes framed in thick eyelashes as deep as the ocean, but filled with genuine warmth. Her lips were thinner, but delicate, and she stood tall for a woman with such a fragile appearance. Her held herself with certainty and her eyes didn't wrinkle at the corners when she grinned as Frank imagined they would; he couldn't locate a single flaw in her appearance.

"Donna, I'm surprised you weren't busy." Linda sounded as surprised as she mentioned, but not unbothered by Dr. Way, or Donna's, appearance.

"It's fine, I'm just checking to see if Frank is good to go home." Donna redirected her attention to Frank who still stared in awe. He quickly flushed and darted his eyes to a poster in the distance beside her head when he was caught looking.

"I feel fine. I'm probably just wasting your time." Frank wrung his hands.

"Nonsense. Gerard told me you knocked your head on the ground." Donna glanced over the paperwork attached to the clipboard she carried in with her. "Everything else seems to be fine. I just need to check to be safe."

Frank sighed through his nose, shooting Gerard a dark look. Gerard feigned aloofness, but the corner of his lips lifted the slightest bit.

"Let's see if you're not concussed." Donna set down the paperwork and tucked a small light from the pocket of her medical coat to check Frank's pupils.

As she examined him, Gerard's presence was impossible to ignore, and it seemed to intimidate even Frank's mother standing close by to be assured Frank was unharmed. She shifted her weight frequently and glanced over at Gerard a few times, burning internally with unspoken questions. Frank also seared within by biting back his own inquiries, but those were reserved for another time when no other pairs of ears could listen in on the exchange.

"You're doing just fine. I'm a little worried about the tenderness here, but an x-ray can let me know what's going on." Donna gently pressed at the area of the back of Frank's hair she fretted over. He winced slightly, a dull throb radiating through the spot.

"Do you think he might've hurt his skull?" Linda asked, overwrought with worry.

"Most likely not, but it's better to be safe than sorry. After we take a closer look, you're good to go home, Frank." Donna warmly smiled. Frank peered into her eyes for a short moment long enough to sense the compassionate way about her, a tender and almost motherly warmth exuding from the inside. Frank smiled back subtly, soothed by her essence.

"Thanks." Frank mumbled. "Thank god Gerard was standing there with me. It would've been much worse if he hadn't pushed me out of the way."

Gerard stiffened, and Donna's smile turned slightly robotic. Frank's eyes flickered between them both curiously.

"Yes, you're very lucky. I'll send over the orders immediately. The waiting room for the x-rays is all the way down the hall, take a left and go through the second door on the right." Donna nodded at both Frank and Linda, gathering her items to leave as Frank continued to stare. It was odd how quickly she dismissed Gerard's participation. Wouldn't she, as a mother, feel proud of her son for saving someone's life?

"Thank you, Donna. I'll see you later." Linda adjusted the strap of her purse resting on her shoulder.

"Take care." Donna briskly exited the room, and Frank expected Gerard to follow, but he lingered, his cool composure never cracking.

"Let's go wait, Frank." Linda started towards the door.

Frank hesitated when he stood, locking eyes with Gerard. "Actually, mom, I think I'm gonna talk to Gerard for a second first."

Surprised by this, Linda looked between both of them curiously, something sparking in her eyes that Frank wished he could shut down immediately. He forced a half smile, waving as she nodded and exited the room. When she vanished around the corner, Frank took it upon himself to escort Gerard to a more private portion of the building, between a vending machine in a vacant hallway and a corner where the sounds of their voices would be muffled.

"If this is about what we were talking about earlier, I think that conversation has come to a close, don't you think?" Gerard passiveness took Frank aback.

Frank's eyebrows arched down and pushed towards each other. "Not if you're the only one who thinks so."

Gerard's mouth twitched. "You should, too."

Frank took a deep breath to calm himself. "I covered for you back there. I lied to your mother."

"You weren't lying."

"I'm not concussed. Or delusional. You heard it straight from the doctor. You weren't standing next to me, Gerard."

"Shock and your fight or flight instincts can cause confusion."

"Can you just — stop?" Frank hissed.

"Stop what?" Gerard's flawless eyebrows lifted.

"Stop acting like I made everything up in my head. Even if you didn't stop the van with your hands, you got to me impossibly fast." Frank's words almost slurred together from how quickly he spewed them out, indignation controlling the movements of his vocal chords and the sharpness of his tongue behind his teeth.

"Of course I did. I needed to act quickly."

"No one moves that fast. You were there in a matter of seconds."

Gerard's eyes narrowed into an expression stunning Frank. "Any ordinary person would thank me and be grateful that they weren't smeared across the road."

Frank stumbled over his own words. He defied Gerard's sharp gaze by glaring back with intensity of his own, watching Gerard's brow arch up higher than the other in faint surprise. "Well, thank you. Do you want a medal?"

Gerard huffed, his eyes flashing. "That wasn't a demand for your gratitude. I don't understand why you can't let this go."

"I'm not going to. Not until you tell me how you were across the lot one second and pushing me away the next." Frank willed himself to keep his glare steady with Gerard's despite his heart accelerating at the bleakness in Gerard's heavy gaze tethered to the sound of violence and ice emitting from his very soul. Frank stood as if he was as much of a threat, a physical warning.

"You're being ridiculous." Gerard clenched his jaw tight. He looked away, avoiding Frank's piercing eyes at all costs. Frank couldn't help but feel a flash of triumph, but following that was rage shocking through his system.

Frank took a deep breath to calm himself. "Look. You can tell me the truth. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."

"There's nothing more to tell you." Gerard sighed in exasperation.

"I don't believe that."

"Believe it or not, I have nothing left to say to you. Let it go."

"You know what? Fuck you." Frank spat. "I don't know why you went through the trouble if you can't stand me. If anything happens again, don't even bother."

Frank couldn't linger on the shock sprouting on Gerard's face before he was turning on his heels and stomping down the hallway. He feared that if he continued on with the heated exchanged, he'd wind up doing something he would later regret, such as curling his hand into a tight fist and ramming it into Gerard's eerily flawless face. Good looks were only skin deep, Frank was suddenly reminded of a saying he heard before, and vehemently agreed with the statement after experiencing it firsthand. He figured Gerard was the epitome of the saying. A face of Adonis didn't guarantee a heart embroidered with silver, framed by marigolds and gardenias. Gerard might have taken Frank for a fool, but he was sure to prove he was no such thing, and by that, he wouldn't stay behind to coax answers out of him. Frank knew when he wasn't wanted, so he'd save Gerard the grief and the intolerance by keeping away. Frank wouldn't give into the false allure or the temptation of his own anger spilling anew through him each time Gerard acted unjustly. Frank still wasn't sure of the reason why Gerard handled his presence the way he did, why he seemed to dislike Frank while nonetheless intruding in his life, but Frank wouldn't uncover the mystery, mostly for his own sake at that point.

Frank stormed into the waiting room, fighting to wipe the scowl off his face when he found his mother sitting in one of the plastic blue chairs, engrossed in a recent issue of Entertainment Weekly from the pile of magazines on the side table. He steadied his breathing, shoving his hands in his pockets. He sank down on the creaky chair beside his mother and sighed.

"What did you two talk about?" Linda asked without peeling her eyes away from the pages.

"I just . . . thanked him for sort of saving me." Frank clicked his teeth together at the end.

"You don't seem very happy." Linda glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

Frank wasn't as inconspicuous as he hoped. He tilted his head back and stared at the television screen in the corner of the room playing an episode of Property Brothers at a low volume.

"I don't think he likes me very much." Frank mumbled.

Linda fully turned her head, baffled. "Why would you think that? You said he saved you."

"Maybe he doesn't want me dead, but he doesn't seem too excited when I'm around." Frank crossed his arms and slouched back in the seat. "I don't really wanna talk about it."

Linda dropped the subject, not being one to pry. Frank was thankful for the temporary silence until he was called in for his x-ray. He hoped they wouldn't reveal if his brain swelled to the point of near explosion with aggravating thoughts involving Gerard Way.

—

Graciously, Frank was allowed to stay at home under a swaddle of blankets shielding him from the cold outdoors. He took advantage of the extra hours to nestle underneath them and fall into a deep sleep where he discovered swirling colors and sunshine accompanied his body in dire need of defrosting. He imagined he felt the heat of California washing over his face as he rode through the desert in a familiar car with work leather seats, the windows down as the smell of dust and purified air swirled underneath his nose. He felt the wind whipping through his hair, tousling all of the locks in a disarray he could care less about during the sweetness of his reunion with the summer sky barren of any rumbling clouds knitting together while deviously plotting a drenching storm. His skin was lathered in sunlight all the way to the bone.

The illusion was so sweet that heavy disappointment blanketed over Frank when his eyes slowly wrenched open hours later and the sound of rain pelting the roof slammed him back into dreary reality. He sighed, rubbing his open palm across his face only somewhat warmed from pressing deep into the blankets. He rolled over and ached for the sunshine, the smell of sea water lapping against blazing sand, the Joshua trees proudly planted in the desert sands he passed through on road trips with the windows rolled all the way down. Frank missed ridiculous fragments of California like the smell of car exhaust and fruit trees from the more rundown communities in Orange County. Frank never imagined he would crave the scent of pollution, and his nose wrinkled, wondering if that was only due to the haze of grogginess lifting sluggishly from his mind. He wiped at his eyes and swung his legs over the side of the bed, hauling himself onto his feet. His head ached, an intrusive pain building at the back of his head. Frank sighed and carried himself to the bathroom to refresh and huff a cigarette.

Frank trudged downstairs and called out to his mother. No response came, and he realized after checking the time that she took off already to her shift at the hospital. Frank wandered into the kitchen, flicking lights on as he went, and he noticed a yellow sticky note plastered onto a medium pizza box centered on the dining table. Frank curiously peeled the note from the cardboard box and read what his mother scrawled across it.

'I'll be back at midnight. Got you a vegetarian lover's pizza — hope you like it!'

Frank's heart warmed at the gesture. He wasn't sure if his mother was aware of how pure she could be, how her benevolent intentions showed a kinder heart on the inside. Frank located a pen inside one of the drawers in the kitchen and decided to leave his own note for her to discover when she returned home later that night.

'Thanks mom. Love you.'

He opened the pizza box, finding it was still warm, and his stomach grumbled at the scent of roasted green peppers and rich mozzarella cheese swirling under his nose. Frank eagerly jogged to the pantry to retrieve a plate and piled it with slices to satiate his hunger. He grabbed a cool water bottle from the fridge along with a dosage of Advil to relieve the throbbing steadily worsening in his skull, aching to absolve it as soon as possible. While he ate, Frank retrieved his phone, and with redness tinting his face, he realized Frances called several times while he was asleep, and sent a text message demanding him to return her calls immediately. Frank shoveled in a few more large bites of pizza before dialing her.

No more than three rings later, Frances answered, yelling, "You're fucking alive! Thank god."

Frank's face burst into flames and he sheepishly coughed. It seems someone filled Frances in on all she missed. "Uh, yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead."

"For all I know, you could've been spread on the parking lot like jam on bread."

"I'm pretty sure Adam or Ray told you I'm fine." Frank appreciated the concern to an extent, but he wished the entire situation away as it flooded his mind with unpleasant memories and emotions. He withheld a sigh.

"Obviously you're not dead, but holy shit, Frank. Do you realize you could've been killed in front of everyone?" Frances's disbelief rang shrilly in her voice.

"Yes. But I wasn't. My head x-rays came back with no signs of damage." Frank absentmindedly rubbed the lingering soreness at the back of his head.

"The one day I ditch. Try not to get killed again, alright?"

Frank snorted. "I don't really enjoy playing ping pong with the reaper."

"Ha, funny. Seriously, Frank, are you okay? That was a really close one."

"I'm fine. My head kinda hurts, but it's not gonna take me out." Frank leaned back in the kitchen chair, ignoring the creaking noise it made.

"Are you still coming to school tomorrow?"

"I don't know if I want to. The last thing I need is to be the center of attention again." Frank's anxiety would spike and worsen his condition once he captured the buzz reaching out to him.

"We'd like to see you. Adam tells me you didn't go back to school after it happened." Frances worriedly pointed out.

"No. The doctor suggested I should go home." Frank's thoughts lingered on the mental image of Donna's face matching the exquisiteness of the rest of her family, a strange feeling stirring in his gut.

"Well . . . I kinda need to give you your notes back. And I need to give you a hug. Near death experiences are not something my friends usually frequent in."

Frank chuckled, his lips forming into a half smile. "Fine. I'll be there tomorrow. I don't wanna linger on it though, okay? Enough people will be stuck on the subject as it is."

"Great. And, we're crystal clear. But I do have a question." Frances trailed off in a curious tone.

Frank's smile fell from his face. "What?"

"What the hell was Gerard Way doing to be close enough to shove you out of the way?"

The reminder of the event send a wave of aggravation flooding through Frank in an instant. He scowled recalling the stubborn impoliteness of Gerard's stance, fighting to convince Frank he was delusional. Frank suppressed the urge to bang his forehead against the table.

"I don't even know. I don't wanna know." Frank sighed deeply. Upon further thought, the explanation sounded insane, which was an impression Frank didn't want to give off. Gerard might not have been able to convince Frank he was delusional, but it wouldn't be difficult to convince others of it. "Maybe he was gonna ask about our project."

"That I'm assuming you did ninety-nine percent of the work for." Frances snorted.

Begrudgingly, Frank said, "No, he actually put in his part. He did some make-up work while he was gone. Shockingly."

"Well that's something. Maybe he would've made you do it all if he knew about your stellar gpa from your old school."

"I don't know, maybe." Frank chewed his lip. "Are we about to shit talk now?"

Frances giggled. "No, I was just checking in. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. And I won't be a ghost, in case you were wondering."

"Damn. It'd be cool to say I'm friends with an undead dude."

"Keep your hopes up for another time and another friend." Frank half smiled.

"Will do. I'll bring your notes tomorrow, see ya."

"Thanks. Talk to you later." Frank ended the call and set his phone down. He finished the remainder of his dinner and cleaned up after himself, washing the few dishes stacked in the sink and wiping down the counters so his mother would come home to a pleasantly tidy kitchen.

Feeling a burst of energy after shining up the kitchen, Frank decided to spend the energized inspiration by sweeping the floors, vacuuming the carpet, and dusting whatever surfaces it could possible compile on. He bustled around the house until everything was neat and pristine, going so far as to reorganize the inside of the pantry after taking in the lopsided rows and mix matched items occupying the shelves. Linda wasn't as much of a mess as Frank's father, and Frank assumed the organization would last longer while taking that into consideration. When Frank was finished tidying up, he lounged by the window where the rainfall lessened and puffed two cigarettes, feeding the craving building from the lack of nicotine consumption that day.

Frank showered and rolled out of the steamy restroom. His hands were trembling, he realized, as he sank down on the bed while running a towel through his hair to gather all the droplets of moisture dangling from the strands. His heart began erratically thumping, making the mattress underneath him feel as though it was shuddering along with the rhythm. Frank pressed an open hand on his chest, attempting to even out the pattern by breathing steadily, but it was a futile attempt. His phone belted out its ringtone during the middle of his second attempt to slow everything down, drawing his attention to it. Frank saw his father's name flashing across the screen.

"Hey dad." Frank answered, his voice a tad frail. His face scrunched and he tapped his throat, clearing it.

"I'm glad I finally got to call you, Frank. What's this I heard about you getting in an accident at school today?" Frank Sr.'s roughly concerned voice spilled out through the speaker.

Frank sighed silently in exasperation. He fell back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling decorated in plastered glowing stars, slowly connecting makeshift constellations between them. "You have no idea what kind of day I had."

Running through the entire event again, Frank expected to feel drawn, ready to move on from the subject. Although that preoccupied part of his mind, he realized as he revisited it again and took in the concern of yet another parent, it rattled Frank's core to realize how closely he grazed fatal injury or worse. What if his legs had been crushed, or he sustained a blow that paralyzed him from the neck down? If he were to take a worse killing blow, the future he slowly threaded together would never come to life, and his soul would be ripped from him at a tragically early age plastering him all over the news for days. Frank realized the source of his trembling hands and heartbeat was the absorption of shock. He forced it to subside to settle for being infuriated by a certain someone's unbelievable behavior. Sleeping away the minor aches allowed his body to shut down momentarily, and he wasn't given the time to reflect on the depth of what happened.

After hanging up with his father, Frank curled up under a blanket, rolling over to stare out the window where raindrops trickled like teardrops across the glass. He fought to breathe evenly, swallowing hard. He supposed he owed Gerard some gratitude for eradicating any of those horrifying possibilities flashing through Frank's mind. As miffed as Frank was, he couldn't deny the sudden soften at the inner linings of his heart to realize someone had given him a chance to continue on. He resented his inability to stay as angry as he was when not all factors turned out unpleasant. Frank took a deep breath and shut his eyes, pressing his cheek into the pillow underneath his head.

As much as he currently loathed Gerard Way, he'd find some way to thank him genuinely.

——
Hi! Sorry I'm kind of late, I had other things to focus on, but I finally got around to editing and publishing this. I hope you like it!

More is coming soon, I keep forgetting where I am in the story is not where you are, haha, so sometimes I find myself almost publishing the new chapters I'm writing, but that would be a huge mistake.

See you soon!

"In the starlit nights I saw you. So cruelly you kissed me. Your lips a magic world, your sky all hung with jewels."

-rosexo