"Fucking morning... ughh...." Gerard sighed out, his words muffled against the pillow he found himself facedown against and I couldn't help but let out a sleepy chuckle as he shifted in the sheets that we shared, leaving me with barely any covers at all, which was of course something that I was going to protest against.

"You've stolen all the fucking covers, Gee." I grumbled, my tone similarly muffled yet not quite as sleep deprived as his, as I was the one who didn't stay up to like four in the morning watch horror movies - okay, I had planned to, but I kind of fell asleep at like midnight, which was something that I knew Gerard would be laughing at me for just as soon as he gained some kind of conscious state and some kind of caffeine in his system.

"Yeah, maybe that's because you should get up and go make me some coffee and leave me to sleep here in the nice warm bed, and you can make me breakfast too as well, yeah? That sounds great, in my opinion-" I hit him over the head with a pillow at the point, drawing a grumble from his lips as he rolled over to face me: red hair falling over his face and sleepy hazel eyes looking up at me, and even like this, even with a maximum of four hours sleep, he still looked utterly beautiful.

And it was ridiculous, of course, I knew that all too well by now.

"Ow! What was that for?" He exclaimed, rubbing his head and somehow managing to convince himself that a fucking pillow had somehow hurt him.

"Being a little bitch." I grinned at that, pulling the covers off and perhaps just accepting that Gerard was extremely unlikely to just give up and let me go back to sleep for just five more minutes: he wanted his fucking coffee now, and he wanted me to make it and bring it to bed for him like the absolute fucking diva he was.

"Little?" Gerard snorted at that, a grin spreading over his lips, as he laid on his side, eyes open wide as he watched me get out of bed - still completely naked, leaving the memories of last night to come back to him, and his grin to only increase. Really, it'd be falling right off his lips any moment now. "If anyone's little it's you, Frankie."

"Are you talking about my dick there, Gerard Way?" I exclaimed, incredibly personally offended by his comment, and I totally didn't just shake it off and continue to pull on the first pair of jeans and shirt I found, which were both probably his.

"No, of course not." He smirked a little, and I couldn't help but flip him off, which was something that we could just about both agree that he overall deserved. "I'm talking about you in general - you're like four foot... Mr Baggins."

"Do you want that coffee or not, asshole?" I reminded him, eyebrows raised as I watched him turn over in the sheets again, pulling them over his head and burying himself like some sort of blank burrito, which I could even try to lie to myself about not being absolutely adorable.

"Fine, I'm sorry, Mr Baggins." He mumbled against the pillow, and really, hiding his head was a good idea, because otherwise he would have had another smack from a pillow coming his way.

"You're ridiculous - you know that, right?" I told him, and received nothing but a mumble and something vaguely resemblant of a 'fuck off' in response. "Take your pills as well, okay?" And I hated reminding him of it, because I knew all too well just how it made the both of us feel, and really, most of the time I just didn't want to, but he had to have them, and as much as I hated that, there was overall very little that I could do about it.

"Later."

"Gerard-"

"I'll take them when you've brought up my coffee, okay?" He snapped, pulling his head out from under the covers, just for the sake of glaring at me, and really, this day had got off on an absolutely excellent start.

-

I was however, of course, unimaginably stupid, and even more ignorant if I even believed for one second that Gerard grumbling and bitching to me about his medication was the worst thing I'd encounter today, and I'd just about figured out that there was no point expecting anything from Gerard, because he'd just give you everything and nothing all at the same time, and without warning at all.

But what I really hadn't expected was what I saw as I made my way into the kitchen, because the kitchen wasn't empty at all, despite it being eight in the morning on a Saturday, and what did lie inside was nothing of the expected and nothing of innocence at all.

"Frank?" Mikey exclaimed, his eyes widening like headlights and pulling away from the other boy he was with: Pete, very obviously Pete, and Pete's identity wasn't just the only blatantly obvious thing, what they'd been doing together was even more ridiculously obvious too.

"This isn't what it looks like." Pete was the first to speak - or, well, lie: that would be the more accurate terminology, because it was exactly what it looked like and there was no way around that fact - the fact that I had just walked into the kitchen and seen my only two friends pretty much full on making out with each other.

And the only thing I had left to do was wish that I hadn't.

"This is secret, Frank, I-" Mikey stuttered out in response to my astounded silence, because if I was ever expecting anything, this would never be it; I must say that they'd absolutely outdone themselves when it came to the unexpected.

"What? Why? How? When?" The words came out of my mouth almost all at once, as I stood eternally astounded by the sight before me and the two people I would consider to be in my top ten people I didn't expect to find kissing in the kitchen. "Fuck, just fucking explain. Mikey, Pete, I... have no fucking words."

"Why are you even up? It's like eight on a Saturday." Mikey went for changing the subject and directing the attention away from himself and Pete and what they'd been doing, and instead to me and the wide eyed gaze that had never left my face from the very moment that I entered the room.

"Your brother wanted coffee, and was even prepared to kick me out of bed for it." I offered a simple explanation before pushing past the two of them and making my way over to the kettle, switching it on, and pulling Gerard’s favourite mug out of the cupboard. "So, do tell me what you're up this early on a Saturday for, now I've told you why I am. Tell me all about this and what you were doing, huh?"

I even found myself smirking into the silence my words had just created, and not even stopping momentarily to wonder if sadism had taken the better of me this morning.

"We were kissing, Frank. I'm pretty sure you've got that by now, yeah?" Mikey decided it was his turn to get all pissed off and defensive, leaving Pete to stand there awkwardly, and me to finally realise that Pete was wearing pyjama bottoms, and therefore had sleep over here - well, fuck.

"What's with the pyjamas, Pete?" I, of course, found it entirely necessary to point this out, and leave both of them stuck for what to say as I waited for the kettle to boil and to continue to make my asshole of a boyfriend some fucking coffee. "You stayed over, then."

"Well, you fucking sleep with your boyfriend every night, don't you, Frank? So shut up." Mikey was the first to retaliate, but his argument was hardly adequate at all, leaving my lips to give way to a grin as I poured the boiling water into the coffee mug and stirred it a little.

"So Pete's your boyfriend now, is he? Well that's an interesting change from when you were being such an asshole about me dating your brother, and now you go off and start fucking my friend?" I had really fucking had enough of both Mikey and Gerard, and really, just about everyone today, and that was making itself evident.

"Oh fuck off, Frank. You're only jealous because my boyfriend isn't so fucking sick of me that he's trying to kill himself every five minutes-"

Mikey never finished that sentence, and it was moments before he was pinned up against the wall again, but this time not for kiss, but something different entirely.

And, fuck, I didn't even regret slapping him - not at all, and despite how wrong that felt, I couldn't help but just brush it off as I stepped away from him and grabbed the coffee that had caused entirely too much trouble for just about everyone, before turning around to fuck everything up again with just one last spiteful comment.

"Oh, and Pete? How about when you're choosing your boyfriend next time, try not to go for an utter fucking asshole, huh? Just a tip." Mikey looked like he was about to punch the little smirk right off my lips, and maybe I didn't blame him all that much, but Pete just stood there: face blank, like he'd barely even heard me in the first place at all.

"Yeah, Iero, maybe you should fucking take your own advice."

-

"Frank?" I jumped a little at the voice in the living room that I found myself sat in alone: my thoughts elsewhere entirely, yet still extremely conscious of Mikey's absence and just how quickly him and Pete had ran off after the little stand off we'd have between the three of us... well, two, really. Pete had just put the 'stand' into stand off, by really just standing there.

"Oh, hi, Mrs Way." I forced myself into a smile for the far too nice woman who just found herself to be the mother of two absolute head cases, both of whom I found myself hating at the best of times.

"Gerard's still asleep isn't he?" I nodded in response, biting down on my fingernails a little as I came to remember the 'fuck off' he'd given me when I'd asked him if he was planning on waking up, and the 'leave me alone' when I reminded him about the coffee I'd made him, and the 'go fuck yourself' when I reminded him bout his medication.

"Yeah."

"I'm worried about him, Frank, I know none of want me to be, especially not him, but I'm his mother, and I really, I just can't help it. Surely you'd understand, at the very least, Frank?" She met my eyes with a hopeful gaze, biting down on her lip in an almost blatantly obvious display of the anxiety that was pulling her apart - piece by piece.

"Yeah. I do." I sighed out, throwing my head back against the sofa as Mrs Way joined me and another round of awkward and forced smiles were shared, just for manners, and just for the sake of filling the time, because really, there was little else either of us could do to stop worrying about everything and everyone.

"Mikey's gone off with that guy with the dark hair and the eyeliner, hasn't he? What's his name again?"

"Pete. That's Mikey's boyfriend." I told her, regardless of whether they had wanted me to or not, just because I was pissed off and just because I could and reckoned I could just about chance whatever Mikey would throw at me in consequence.

"Oh." Mrs Way simply nodded in response, and really, I couldn't exactly expect her to overreact or anything: being the mother of both Mikey and Gerard, she'd most likely seen it all. "I am terribly worried about Gerard, though, I just... are you sure he's taking his medication?"

"Yeah, I watch him do it now - just to make sure. And he goddamn hates me for it, but it's something that I guess I just have to do." I let out another sigh, burying my head in my hands, as despite the conversation subject, I continued in the struggle of trying my best to think about anything other than Gerard Way.

"You know, I have so much respect for you, Frank." She caught my afternoon almost instantly with that one: words that no one had ever said to me before, and with the change to that, I couldn't help but struggle to give the answer why. "It's not easy to be close to Gerard, not easy at all. And to love him, god that's even harder, and then for him to actually return those feelings, Frank, I honestly think you've achieved the impossible. He needs you, though - you can't let him go, and as selfish as that sounds, we all just need you, and he needs you the most."

"I know. I don’t want to ever let him go, and in fact, he seems far more keen to do so at times than I ever am." I admitted, words heavy on my lips with the meaning they brought. "I'd never let him though - I'd never fucking let him, because maybe I'm his best chance at ever being okay, because really, that doesn't just seem to be something he can do on his own, almost like 'mental stability' just wasn't included with him at birth. Or sanity for that matter."

"Yeah, I really get what you mean, and I, I know both you and him will probably despise the hell out of me for even fathoming suggesting what I'm about to, but as his mother, and as someone who even vaguely cares, I just have to..." She paused, catching my gaze and perhaps attempting to judge any form of reaction, but I continued in keeping my face straight and only nod for her to go on. "I think he should get help. Like properly, like psychological help."

"You want to throw him into a like mental asylum and leave him there?" I, of course, found myself jumping to conclusions, perhaps just because what she'd just told me was downright nearly impossible to hear about someone you fucking loved.

"No, no, no! Frank, please, you're getting entirely the wrong idea!" She exclaimed, grabbing my hand and forcing my gaze back onto hers. "I just want you to talk to him, because really, you're just about the only one who'd ever even have something vaguely resemblant of a chance of getting through to him and I need that. I need you to talk to him for me, please?"

After a few moments of silence and consideration, I finally found myself nodding, and doing so despite just about everything Gerard had told me. "What do want me to talk to him about?"

-

"Therapy, Gerard. It's just fucking therapy. It's not like selling your soul to research scientists or something!" I exclaimed, watching as my red-haired boyfriend slammed his fist against the wall, and cracking the plaster in the process, leaving me with nothing but a thankful sigh that his fist had connected with his bedroom wall, and not my face.

"Yeah, well, I'm fucking fine, and I don't fucking need it." He turned to face me, glaring like hell, and biting down on his bottom lip in a furious rage of impatience and frustration entwined in one. "You know that I'm fine, Frankie, don't you? You'd never care so much about me if I was a fucking head case, would you?"

"Gerard, I fucking love you no matter what, and I hate how that's slowly becoming a problem." I retorted, pulling a hand back through my hair and then watching with widened eyes how he sat down on the bed: his anger all seeming to come to a halt at once, like thrashing tsunami waves dying down into nothing more than a ripple on a pond in your back garden.

"I'm not crazy, Frankie. I'm not." And it hurt like hell to hear him say it like that, because the way he'd spoken made it sound far much more like he was trying to convince himself over me.

"No, you're not crazy, you're just kind of messed up... I mean, we all are." I sighed out, sitting down beside him and trying not to wonder why asking my boyfriend to go to therapy was like trying to explain algebra to a toddler.

"I'm not even messed up, though." And that was just a blatant lie, and he knew too; I watched as his eyes met with the box of pills on the bedside table too. "I even took my pills today, but that didn't seem to stop me being a fuck up, did it? Maybe you're right. Maybe I am fucked up beyond repair-"

"That's not what I'm saying, Gerard!" I exclaimed, exhaling aloud as I grabbed his hand, linking our fingers and giving his palm a friendly and somewhat comforting squeeze. "Look, I love you, and you're not crazy, you're wonderful and beautiful, but there's just some things in you that are doing damage to you, to me, to your family, to us, and... and I think maybe you should just try therapy out. Just try. Maybe it'll just make things easier for all of us."

"I won't feel like a fuck up?" He asked, almost if he was just cutting through the sugar coating and right to the shit inside.

"You're not a fuck up." I told him for what felt like the millionth time, and yet, he still continued to struggle even consider believing me, and it was something like that that was driving me crazy. "I love you, Gerard."

"I love you too, Frankie, but I lie and I pretend and everything’s just fake, and I'm fake and we're all fucked up, and we fake too, because nothing feels real at all anymore, Frank? And the pills do that - they fucking dumb and dull out everything until there's nothing left at all, and I hate that, and I hate me, and I hate the fact that you've still stuck around throughout all this shit, because you deserve so much better, so much fucking better, Frankie, and you know that you're just too fucking nice."

"I love you." I pleaded, my eyes widening as my heartbeat increased at Gerard's words and context of them.

"I fucking over with faking and pretending, and lying, Frank. Fucking stop it! Stop lying to me. You don't love me, and I can't ever expect you to."

- 

Hey guys:) So I've decided that the next part will be in two days (the 21st) and then the epilogue will be posted on the 23rd. I'm writing them all today and I've just finished this and I wrote it all in literally an hour so sorry if it's kind of bad but oh well:') Votes and comments are really very much appreciated and I love you all<3