"You're dead." I told him, after moments of dumbstruck silence, watching as the man I'd grown to hate invited himself inside and sat down in the living room of the empty house, and really, my head was exploding right now, because there was something far more fucked up about this that I just couldn't quite place.

"Evidently, I'm not." He sighed, meeting my gaze as he made himself comfortable in the chair, almost as if he was annoyed with the fact that he had been shot in the fucking head, and fucking killed. What the fuck, seriously? "Is Gerard in-"

"No, you're fucking dead, Bert McCracken, so what the fuck is going on here? What the fuck? Gerard told me that you were dead, dead. He shot you and then we ran away and I freaked out over this and even Mikey knows it and you're dead, so what the fuck is this?" My words came to a slow as everything fell over me like tidal waves in quick succession of memories: both familiar and repressed, and phone calls and text messages, both answered and ignored.

"Frank, I'm not dead, and I'm sorry.. I-I... came here to say sorry. I want to say sorry to Gerard, but he's not here is he? I've been trying to get in contact with him on his phone for weeks now, but he just won't, so I guess I have to set things straight face to face. I am really sorry, Frank, look I know you hate me for things I did in the past, but I wasn't mentally stable and the drugs didn't help at all, I-"

"The phone calls, fuck... that was you, and oh my god, you're alive- how the fuck are you not dead?" I threw myself back into the sofa, pulling my cellphone out like my life depended on it, dialling Gerard's number, only for my efforts to be returned with nothing more than a few brief seconds of dial tones before it went straight to voicemail. "Gerard killed you, when you came up to his room and... he killed you, he shot... there were gunshots... I..."

"I never came up to his room, Frank, I... I hate to break it to you, and I know you won't want to believe me, but I'm very much alive, and Gerard is far much more of a liar than the average person." And his words weighed heavy like bullet wounds in my own chest, but it soon came to mind how I'd never seen the body or any real evidence of anything: Gerard had just picked up my passed out body and run away with it, and I'd simply taken what little snippets of explanation I could get out of him as the truth.

Needless to say, love is blind.

But fuck, why? Why would he do this? What the fuck?

"But why? Why would he pretend to kill you and then run away with me for like a week or so until I could convince him to come back and then still people played along with your death, and what? What the fuck is going on, Bert?" I screamed at him, and really maybe, I did start to believe that he'd simply come here to apologise to an ex-boyfriend that he'd been a shitty person to, and had his apparent death dropped on him like a bombshell instead.

"Like anyone has the slightest fucking clue as to what's going on in Gerard's head, even half the time. It must be both a dream and a death wish to think like him." Bert stood up from his chair, peering out the front window, before turning back to me. "He's the kind of mad were it's all passion, all feeling, all emotion, and all without reason. Where is he now?"

"I... don't know..." I stuttered out, almost like I knew that my answer was already acceptable by no degree.

"Fuck, what the fuck do you mean that you don't know? Seriously who put the idea of leaving someone like him alone for longer than ten minutes into your heads?"

"He told me that you used to never let him go and hold him tight to your side and shit..."

"Well do you fucking wonder why, Frank? Look, he's worse when he's actively taking drugs and shit as well, like ten fucking times worse, and he says he's better, but he's not, and really, you just can't tell if he's lying to himself or just you, anymore. We need to fucking find him, though, fuck, he'll do something stupid, I-"

"So if he didn't kill you... what were the gunshots?" I stuttered out, eager to believe Bert, despite who he was and simply due to the fact that it was the only explanation that actually seemed to cover everything for once, and I was far too eager to leave this all to someone who seemed to know what they were doing with this mess far better than I was.

"Fuck..." Bert exhaled, throwing his head back against the wall, lighting a cigarette, and glancing across at me like he was just about to tell me that my house had burnt to a crisp, my parents had died, and I was going to have to go live some distant fucking relative that I had never even heard of, who just happened to be some evil fucking psychopath dude trying to kill me for the money I had inherited - he did not however tell me that.

"Has Gerard... has he ever spoken to you about the gun under his pillow and what it's there for?" I shook my head, slowing realising that the multitude of secrets I had teased out of Gerard recently barely even scratched the surface of what really made him up as a person. "Has he ever talked to you about what the pills he takes are for?" I shook my head again. "Did... did... Gerard ever... talk to you about... killing himself...?"

And in the silence, as my brain finally kicked starting after the shock that his words brought, it was then that I spoke. "Yes." And as Bert's eyes widened in shock, I thought it best to continue, because perhaps, maybe, the guy did still intimidate me, even if just a little. "This morning."

"And you didn't think that something like that raised any fucking red flag or something, Jesus Christ, Frank, I know you're like twelve, but seriously, something like that doesn't require much brain power."

"I'm eighteen, Bert." I told him, nonchalantly and calm, despite the fact that a thousand bombs were going off inside me. "So what do we even fucking do now because I couldn't possibly have a fucking clue where he is, of course, could I? Because you're so much cleverer than me and everything?"

"Fuck off." Bert rolled him eyes, biting down on his lips as a look of 'oh fuck why' crossed his eyes. "I don't like you, Frank, you know that. I just happen to give far too much of a shit about the only thing we have in common, and that's Gerard Way, and really, you know nothing about him, not really. So just fucking let me sort this out, okay?"

And, as if things couldn't get any fucking worse, the door slammed open, leaving the two of us to throw our gazes in the direction of the front door and the scrawny seventeen year old who had walked in, not really expecting to see his brother's ex-boyfriend in their living room, but from the look on his face, I knew that there wasn't a chance in hell that this was just a casual, everything's fine, I'm home early kind of thing.

"Mikey?" I was the first to speak, perhaps just to break the silence, perhaps just to fill the air, or perhaps just some kind of acknowledgement between the three of us.

"Where's Gerard?" Mikey snapped, his words directed in Bert's direction, and without a question to the state of his mortality, which of course sent me spinning further down the path of insanity, and it seriously was not doing me any favours. "Where the fuck's Gerard, McCracken?"

"Why did that fucking brother of yours go around telling people I'm dead, because I sure as hell don't know, and neither does little Frankie here, and you seem awfully nonchalant about the fact that I'm still alive and kicking, in contrary to what I've just been told by Frank. So, do enlighten me, Michael, dearest? You and Gerard were always blood pact esque close, weren't you?"

"Stop fucking talking about him in the past tense, because he's fucking fine, you know that? And none of this is any of your business, for God's sake! He's not your boyfriend anymore and you and him are done, and he's still so much of a fucking asshole, but at least he hasn't got a psychopath of a boyfriend anymore."

"I wasn't the psychopath in that relationship, Mikey, I promise you that." And the silence that followed only seemed to bring Mikey slight discomfort, almost as if he'd been expecting and bracing himself for this, and I was still frozen, in shock, and fucking silent beyond measure, as I considered the world of lies I found myself stuck in.

"Gerard's fucking manipulative, okay, and I think we all fucking know that, so maybe if he was prepared to fucking shoot me in the leg, I was prepared to lie for him." Mikey snapped, sighing, not quite meeting my gaze, or Bert's for that matter.

"But why?"

"Because Gerard has a fucking shitty aim when he's drugged up like hell, and he fucking missed his own fucking head by millimetres, and maybe, maybe it was easier just to pretend that your brother hadn't nearly killed himself for like the second fucking time, okay? He's arrogant as well, couldn't just admit that he'd fucked up, so he started lying to save his ass. Thought he was going to make you happy as well, Frank, by fucking cutting Bert out." Mikey sighed, unzipping his hoodie as he played with the zip awkwardly. "Don't fucking stare. We've all warned you a million times, and you're still some fucking lovestruck puppy, Frank. I'm even surprised that you're still alive at this point, honestly."

"Yeah, and now he's fucked off again, hasn't he, so no fucking prizes for guessing what he's going to do, huh?" Bert threw his head against the wall, practically giving up at this point, and really, this plan to apologise had brought him more grief than anything ever had. "Do you even have any idea where he would fucking go?"

"He might... he might go to the woods where we first met, I mean, it's a long shot, of course, and I'm not sure, but-"

"Frank, just fucking shut up, your boyfriend could be about to shoot himself right now. Pull your shit together." It seemed Bert McCracken and manners were two things largely unacquainted, and I personally began to wonder how he'd ever planned upon pulling this 'apology' off in the first place, but that barely even seemed to fucking matter as reality began to sink, and my head began to spin like I was the one with a bullet in my brain.

"Leave him the fuck alone, Bert. Just because you've been 'victimised' by Gerard doesn't fucking cleanse you of all your fucking sins. Like I'm ever going to fucking forget what you did to me." Mikey spat, and I reckoned that perhaps I'd go stand a little closer to him as I concentrated on not fainting, because that would be especially problematic, and this what not something anybody needed right now.

"What Gerard told me to do to you, remember?" Bert rolled his eyes, pulling out his cellphone and trying what we all presumed to be Gerard's number, only for it to go to that bittersweetly familiar voicemail, and really, the guy fucking looked like he was going to punch something, and I really didn't want it to be me.

"I need to check something." Mikey ran up the stairs two at a time, leaving me staring wide eyed as I came to accept that he'd left me alone with Bert, and really, I couldn't help but pray for him to return quicker.

Yet, when he did return, he return with nothing but bad news, and not just any bad news, but the kind of bad news that tore your heart from your chest, because all the jigsaw pieces finally fell in place, but only to portray a picture reminiscent of a nightmare.

"The gun's gone."

-

It's stupid, and I know that more than I've ever known anything before, and it's the kind of stupid, where the sole reason that it remains cast off as 'stupid' is for the sake of an alibi, because I hate being scared, perhaps more than anything else, and I absolutely despise being scared when it's about Gerard - the one person I care the most about in this whole damn world.

And dear god, it was such a shitty fucking world, and dear god, how I grew more scared and more hateful with every fucking step I took, because we'd separated at the very least, and as I let my feet guide me into the all too familiar forest, and for once, for the first time, it did nothing to lift my mood, and I didn't like this at all.

I hated how now it felt far too much like my recluse had become nothing more than a prison cell, and yet the walls were wooden, and I was well and truly alone for once, because despite how much everyone could lie to me about this, without Gerard, I was well and truly alone, again.

And perhaps, I even began to wonder if that was something I could bare at all, but I wouldn't do something quite as stupid as he would consider, because there was just a certain uncertainty when it came to Gerard's mind and the ticking time bombs locked away inside it, because he didn't share himself, not really, not truly with anybody, and that was what was letting the insanity and creep and take all that there was left of Gerard Way for itself.

And it sickened me; as the reality sank in, it sickened me further, and my head began to spin with every step, but still, I couldn't quite stop myself, because there was a certain melancholy to this, and if I was walking anywhere, if I was actually accomplishing anything with every stupid little step, I didn't know, because really, it didn't feel like it, and in fact, if this felt like anything at all, despite the dull pound in my chest grinding my heart and sense of emotion to an utter stop, it felt like I was walking to my own fucking funeral.

And the golds of the leaves turned into brown with my lack of hope, and soon into greys as my vision got hazy and everything started to spin as I slipped, only for red. Only for everything to return to red, and for the first time today, my heart stopped beating like crazy, but really, pressed up against his chest, I could feel that his heart was beating for the two of us.

"Frankie, are you okay?" He had the fucking guts to ask me if I was okay, fuck. I simply ignored his words, pulling myself against his chest and letting myself forget the whole world for just a short, bittersweet ten seconds.

And fucking Bert and that whole fucking mess didn't even seem to matter at all, just as long as right now, he was fucking alive, and both our hearts were still beating, and really we could leave the explanations until later, and ruin ourselves in the process, because all this was a repeating cycle of heartbreak, love, and sex, but that was us, and I don't think I would ever change that, or ever let anyone for that matter.

"What's wrong, Frank-" This question, however, he didn't get to finish, as my sanity was slowly gaining, and I pulled away from my boyfriend, standing on my own two legs and not even passing out - it was my mind that was collapsing in on itself.

"What the fuck is wrong? Gerard, what's with all the lying, and what's with the secrets you can't tell me? What's with Bert and what's with the gun that's gone from your room? Why do you want to kill yourself and why do you keep lying to me? Do you even love me at all, because fuck, I love you like hell, and you need to love me back."

"I do, Frankie, I do love you..." He choked out, starting with the easiest of the questions, much as I had expected, but as long as he gave me some kind of explanation in the end, I didn't really mind. "But you know I'm fucked up, you know that, and I have stupid thoughts and I want to do stupid things, and-"

"Give me the fucking gun, Gerard."

At first, of course, I was left with nothing more than bittersweet reluctance, as we remained in silence, and my eyes never left his, he finally pulled the gun from his back pocket and handed it to me.

I stared at it for a few seconds, because I'd never held a gun in my hand before, and the nonchalance with which Gerard handled the object almost scared me, but after today, I wondered if there really was anything else really worth being scared of, and still that within itself was still an awfully frightening thing.

But everything had to end, and as did my moment of question, and Gerard eyes wide upon mine as for the first time in his life he really shut up, and it ended as I threw the gun into my pocket, and pulled my hoodie down over it, trying my best not to look like someone who needed arresting.

"Bert." He spoke before I did, and I think it shocked the both of us, and perhaps it really hadn't been intentional on his part, but nothing more than a thought accidentally vocalised. "I'm sorry." And the intentional rush of words followed, and I tried to smile, just to reassure him, but my features seemed to be set into my face like it was made of stone.

"You lied." I told him what he already knew, perhaps just as confirmation or perhaps just a means with which to pass the silence. "Mikey, he tried to explain, but Gerard, I just... why did you even try to shoot yourself in the first place, I-"

"Because I'm what's breaking us, and weighing us down here. I'm the mess, I'm the fuck up, and I'm just a headache refusing to take my medication in the home that one day they'll put me down for that. Because, Frank, you're brilliant, you're wonderful, you're perfect, and I love you far too much, so much that it isn't just in my heart, but in my whole body, and I can't breathe because I love you too much. You're better than this and you're better than this shitty town and this shitty high school and this shitty boyfriend. I'm what's keeping you in Jersey and holding you down. One of has to leave, and you're always far too stubborn, I-"

"So stubborn that I'm not going to let you continue, and you're going to come home, Gerard, and we'll be fine, and I'm stubborn enough to make sure of that."

I smiled, and I made him smile too, but all too soon, that smile faltered and everything fell through like memories forced into suppression, and a love you can’t quite hold onto any longer.

-

Hey guys, I actually have something important to say here so please read this okay? Well, I am glad to announce that this fic will be ending soon (shut up I've been writing this trainwreck of a fanfiction for literally a year now I started this in December of 2013) and I've actually planned out what I would even go as far as to call a decent ending. We have two more chapters after this one (Chapters 52 & 53) and an epilogue. The epilogue is important though, like seriously important so don't just ignore that:')

Anyway, here is the good news bit, I want to get this fanfiction over and done with, so basically this Friday (the 19th) I'm only at school for half the day because we finish early for Christmas and shit, so I am planning to try and complete this story, and yes that means writing like 8000 words in one go so fuck me I will die on Friday, but I would say it's for good, so anyway. I want to get this story offically completed on Wattpad before Christmas, therefore, since we have three more chapters after this one, that means more frequent updates.

And I have no idea as to how and when you'd want these three final updates, of course from the 19th to before the 25th. I'm not going to just throw them at you on Friday after I finish them, 'unfortunately', I might post one on the Friday, but we'll see, what I'm saying is that I'm very much open to suggestion and basically tell me when you want these updates:')

Also if you care, I'm working on an 8tracks playlist for this fic, because I like making them too much, so look forward to that if you want:')

Anyway, about the ending, it's not a mega sad ending, but it's slightly traumatising, and I would call it more evil, really, than heartbreaking. Okay, I'm going to shut up before the author's note is longer than the actual chapter:')

Love you all<3