Screaming. Mikey told me he woke up to screaming. I was working the graveyard shift at the grocery store and wasn't due to come home until around 7am. When I arrived home, the place was filled with cop cars and an ambulance sat unmoving in the driveway. Our father was dead. He had died in his sleep of a heart attack and our mother woke up to find him cold and blue. He had died three hours prior to her waking up, but that didn't stop her from trying her best to save him.

Mikey said that all he could hear while she performed CPR was gurgling from the blood that had pooled at the back of his throat. He was long gone and the 'lifesaving' measures most likely caused a lot more trauma to my poor family members than if they were to just call an ambulance and wait.

It's now been a week and I still haven't cried. I feel so fucked up about it. like my mind is telling me that I obviously didn't care about him if I can't even muster up a singular measly tear. It's not that I don't feel sad. Sad would be a massive understatement for the gaping hole that this has left in my chest. it just plain hurts. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't think... and I can't fucking cry. I miss him so bad but my body is almost not even reacting. Mikey is angry at me for it. I can't hold it against him because I'm somewhat angry at myself for it too. I loved my dad.

"How are you hanging in there?" Ray asks as he sits at the foot of my bed. I've been trying to keep to myself mostly as to not disturb my mom and brother with my uncanny lack of emotion towards what might be the largest event in my life. Ray is patient with me. I haven't done much talking lately but he still comes to visit every day after work. I just feel so helpless and pathetic about it all the time. I hate that he even feels the need to come check in on me but I also appreciate it with every fibre of my being because I have no one else to be annoyed at for caring too much.

"I don't even know.." I admit, noticing now how dry my mouth is. I should probably drink some water. It's been a while since I've drank anything at all. " I still feel all jumbled inside like there's a wasp nest in my chest that someone shook.. if that make any sense." He nods.

"It's only been a week, Gerard. That's to be expected." He shrugs as he pulls a few video games from his bag. I find it in me to roll my eyes and mentally smile though my outward expression remains the same. He 100% stole those from work. He hates his job. I would too if I had to man the Walmart electronic section all on my own. " Do you wanna play Call of Duty or rockband again?" He proposes.

"Rockband."

Soon enough we're a few songs in, watching a loading screen and waiting to play the next song. Ray picked it so I know I'm absolutely fucked when it comes to points.

"Why haven't I cried yet?" I barely even have time to register what I'm saying before it's already tumbled past my lips. Ray gives me a strange look as if to say 'what the fuck'.

"I don't know, man. Grief is weird? When my mom died I bawled my eyes out for a few weeks probably but my sister? You wouldn't even be able to tell that she ever even had a mom. No emotion, Gerard. None at all. I almost didn't think she was human." He tells me absentmindedly and I furrow my eyebrows. So I really am fucked up, huh. "But then after a few months," He starts before reaching forward and taking a sip of his soda. "I could hear her at night just fucking wailing. It didn't hit her yet."

So I'm just behind schedule. I almost don't want to get to that point because I fear that if I start crying, I simply won't stop. Especially if it takes months to get there. I can't let this bottle up like this. I need to cry. Now.

"Ray, what the fuck am I supposed to do?" I question as I pause the game. He just stares at my blankly, motioning for me to complete my thought. "I should be so devastated right now. I should be terrified about what all of this means for my mom, my brother... Why can't I feel anything but straight pain in my chest? It hurts but I also feel so numb. I don't like this, fuck, I hate this." It's probably the most I've said in days. I thought that letting out at least some of my feelings would at least elicit a tear but nothing comes out. My eyes remain dry and Ray just looks down at the dirty beige carpet, deep in thought.

"You know everything is gonna be okay right?" He finally tells me and I scoff. It can't be okay if this is how I find out I'm some sort of psychopath who can't even cry at the death of my own father. Not only that, I will have to become financially responsible and help pay bills. Just that thought alone sends a shiver up my spine, never mind the whole dead dad situation. I just ignore him and unpause the game. He huffs in annoyance but doesn't say anything else for the rest of the time he spends at my house.

--

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for supper?" My teary eyed mother asks as Ray begins to pull his shoes on. She's starting to look quite frail as of late. I imagine that she has the same problem with keeping food down that I do. It makes my chest hurt a little bit more.

"Yes, I'm sure ma'am. I was just stopping in for a bit to see Gerard. Thank you for having me." He smiles politely and speaks the obvious, as if he would be here to see anyone else. Hell, Mikey hates the guy. Mikey kind of hates everyone right now though. I should probably try to talk to him and see where he's at but as previously mentioned, Mikey hates everyone and I'm not exempt from that. Silly teenage hormones.

"Okay, Sweetie, of course. Have a safe drive home." She forces a smile as Ray sets off to his car. It drops as soon as the door closes and she sighs as if that fake smile took all the energy in the world to muster up. I hope she's doing okay. I know she's not, but I also know she's a very strong person. I mean, she lived with Mikey and I this long and hasn't killed one of us yet. She has the patience of a saint and the will of a warrior. I wish I was like her in those aspects but it seems that I've taken after my father. He was always much more emotional. He never really had a great handle in his anger or sadness and I know my mother sees that in me. She is becoming increasingly more aware the older I get but more in the sadness aspect.

It feels weird to know that one of the people that quite literally made you isn't around anymore. Like I could walk to all corners of the earth and never catch a glimpse of him ever. He's gone. I don't know why that's such a difficult concept to grasp. No more arguing over stupid things, no more friendly banter, no more longwinded conversations about conspiracy theories... no more Dad. Fucking ouch.

"Can you go get your brother? I made some Mac and cheese. I know it's your guys' favourite." She attempts to smile warmly again, but anyone could tell that it was forced and cold. There's not too much to smile about around here these days. She knows that I know that and maybe she thinks I appreciate the gesture, but to me it doesn't matter. we're all downright miserable right now. no amount of forced smiles and faking it until you make its are going to fix whatever the fuck we're trying to fix. I don't think anyone here knows. We just know it's broken.

"Yeah, I'll go get him." I sigh, trying not to cringe at the thought of being yelled at again. Mikey is just so emotional right now and I do get it, but it doesn't change anything that's happened. I can take all the yelling and insults being hurled at me, My mom can't. Not right now. she doesn't need that. I pull myself up the stairs by the railing, making sure to take my time on each step. usually I take the stairs two steps at a time but like I said, I'm somewhat apprehensive about speaking to my grief stricken brother. He and my dad had a rocky relationship. It seems as though they always had something to disagree about. Towards the end, our dad had calmed down significantly most likely due to the fact he was in active heart failure. I wonder if he knew he was going to die. He had always joked that he was not long for this world, much to the dismay of my mother and I. We didn't know just how right he was. I finally arrive outside of Mikey's door and can almost feel the angst through it.

"Hey Mikes. Mom made some Mac and cheese. You should come down and eat." I tell him gently as I slowly open the door. His head shoots up at me and he just looks so hateful. I cower slightly, but stand firm.

"Why?" He sneers and I try my best not to roll my eyes.

"Because you need food to do that thing... I don't know, live?" I say sarcastically. He just huffs in annoyance and pushes past me, stomping down the stairs. I follow timidly as to not poke the bear.

we both sit down at the table as our mom loads up our plates. I thank her, Mikey stays silent. We eat quietly. not sharing a singular word. By now our father would have cracked a joke at how burnt the cheese is at the sides of the pan and we would have laughed. Even my mom. She knows she's not a great cook. She took that in stride. Mikey always hated that our dad would point out our mom's cooking mishaps, but lately he's been calling them out just as much if not more than our father did. On more than one occasion he talked about how much he hated dad and how life would be so much easier if her had just died. I think he feels guilty for those late night conversations we shared. I don't blame him because sometimes I would agree.

It's not like our dad was the easiest to get along with. Not by a long shot. He was grumpy, he was angered easily and it wasn't uncommon for arguments to turn physical between him and Mikey once we got older. He wasn't abusive, at least I don't think he was. He had a really hard time growing up. My grandparents immigrated here young and they were just as clueless about life as anyone else is. They were just doing what they thought they had to. so was my dad. We weren't the easiest kids to raise, always fighting with each other and whatnot. Mikey has a real mean streak in him sometimes. That, he definitely inherited from our father. He could just say things without thinking it through first, no matter how hurtful it was. They both could. I think our dad saw a lot of himself in Mikey's anger. Though I hold more of his likeness and personality, Mikey had his anger. He almost hated it for him sometimes I think. Mikey definitely hated dad for passing on the sickness to him. He often made it known whenever he could and our father did in fact feel quite guilty for it. He told me so.

"So I was thinking the three of us could go grocery shopping. I think it would be good for us to get out of the house for a bit." Mom proposes after what feels like an eternity of silence. I agree because it's not like I have anything to do and I also feel like my mom is feeling a bit lonely. Mikey however, somehow takes offence to this proposition.

"Why would I want to be seen anywhere with you?" He huffs, looking up at her above his glasses that have slid down the tip of his nose.

"Mikey-" I give him somewhat of a warning look but I'm cut off before I can finish my thought.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She points her fork at him and narrows her eyes. I also give her a warning look but it goes ignored. Everyone is not in the right headspace right now. I know Mikey is definitely going to say something he regrets and I know mom is going to be sad. I close my eyes tight in anticipation. This is going to be a bad one.

"It means that I fucking hate you! You couldn't save dad and you didn't even like him anyways! You tortured the poor man. He probably only died to get the fuck away from you!" And there it is. Mikey explodes. I just face palm as my mother struggles to even react to what was just said to her. This is exactly what we needed tonight huh? A good old Way family blowup. It almost feels like dad is alive.

"Don't you dare ever speak to me like that, Michael. You hear me? Your father and I loved each other very much!" She tries her best to hold back tears. Mikey is winning. Our parents never had a perfect marriage by any means. I mean, does anybody? She's absolutely right that they loved each other. They wouldn't have put up with each other's shit for so long otherwise.

"Keep telling yourself that mom, maybe one day someone will believe it." Mikey scoffs as he pushes himself away from the table, standing up and focusing his venom-filled glare directly at our mom. If looks could kill, we'd be orphans. "I wish it was you. I wish we woke up and you were the one that didn't. I fucking hate you, Donna." There's the climax. He storms off and I just stare down at my uneaten meal, trying not to notice all the destruction he's left in his wake. After she's sure he's gone, my mom starts bawling her eyes out. I shift my focus to her as she buries her head in her hands. She looks like a child. That's okay.

"Mom, we should go grocery shopping now..." I manage to get out between her sobs. "Or we can just drive around if that's better. We could probably-"

"Yeah, let's just go." She swallows her tears and we leave our uneaten meals at the table in favour of getting away from whatever the fuck just happened. I don't even know what set him off. He never used to act like this with mom. It was honestly a bit terrifying to see. Never once in my life could I ever recall someone causing that much pain in that short of time just using their words. It almost repulses me. I feel disgusted by the words that came out of his mouth. We were raised better than that.

—

I end up being the one to drive because I don't think it would be a great idea to trust my mother with that. She silently stares out the window and I try my hardest not to disturb her. I want to talk about it with her. I really want to talk about everything with her, ask her why I haven't cried, and why she thinks Mikey is being the way she is, dad... I keep my mouth shut.

"Do you think Mikey actually means what he said?" She must be thinking the exact same thing I am. I almost immediately shake my head and give her a look of pity mixed with sadness.

"He just feels guilty, mom. You know how he was with dad. I think he's just finding a way to place the blame of his guilt on you." I guess aloud and she goes back to staring out the window. "He loves you mom. I love you mom. Don't think everything you do for us is going unnoticed."

She starts crying again.

"I feel like I can never do enough." She cries. "I'm so scared Gerard. I've been with your father since I was nineteen. That's basically a whole lifetime we spent together. I just thought we'd have more time... I'm so fucking scared." She seems so human as I rub her back, keeping my eyes on the road. I used to always think she was some sort of super hero who could do anything, but seeing her now makes me realize that she is not just my mom. She's a person. She's a person who had a whole life before Mikey and I were even an iota of an idea. She had a life with dad before us, and now she has a life with us after dad. I put my hand back on the wheel and turn off into the grocery store parking lot as she tries and fails miserably to collect herself. There's so many unanswered questions and this all just proves that my mom doesn't actually know everything in the world.

When she is finally only wiping away remnants of the tears that were running down her cheeks, we wordlessly get out of the car and go into the store. It's the same one I work at and as we walk in, my coworkers are giving me pitiful glances. I try my best to ignore them and my mother doesn't even notice them at all. I don't even think it's registering that I work here. We collect what we need to tide us over for the next few days before looking through the junk food in search of small treats for ourselves. My eyes briefly stop on the Twix bars and my mom just rolls her eyes and chuckles, throwing them into the cart and telling me I can share them with my brother. I won't. They'll be taken straight to my room and she knows that just as well as I do.

"Hey Gerard." The cashier, Frank I think his name is, greets me as I start to put our items on the belt. I don't usually work with him all that much, but I can say that look forward to it when we do. He seems to keep to himself mostly. It's nice to be able to just exist in silence even when other people are around.

"Hey." I don't say his name because like I mentioned before I'm not all too sure of it. My mother smiles at him but he doesn't really notice, he just keeps looking at me in this strange way as he slowly starts to ring up our items.

"I'm sorry your dad died." He says, finally looking away. Wow. I didn't know news gets around that fast. I guess it really has been a week. My mom's face falls at the mention of her husband but I know that she knows he means well.

"Thanks, Frank." I decide to take a chance. He doesn't say anything so I guess I got it right. "It means a lot." He smiles. My mom pays for the groceries and quickly takes the cart out to the car. I stay back because Frank looks as though he feels like he's done something wrong.

"Is she okay? I didn't mean to upset her." His eyebrows are furrowed together and his voice is laced with true concern. It's refreshing after having to hear everyone not really care, but pretend to. I should really try to talk to him more. He's genuine. Real.

"She's as okay as she can be." I tell him. "It's been a rough night with Mikey and all. She's just been taking the brunt of his mood swings." I attempt to joke, but it's not all too funny. Franks eyebrows stay furrowed and I attempt to make it better. "He's just a moody teenager. This doesn't help, but it's really okay. We're all doing okay."

"That's good to hear. All of us here have kind of been worried about you. Even Marnie." He chuckles and so do I. Marnie doesn't have feelings. "When do you think you're coming back to work?" He asks somewhat hopefully.

"I don't know." I admit. "I'm scheduled for tomorrow, but Josh said I can take more time off if I'm ready. It's just so fucking depressing being at home. It might be best for me to come in." I sheepishly scratch the back of my head, feeling tangles in my greasy black hair. I probably look like shit right now. There's no way around it. Mix grief with all ready being lazy and depressed, and you have a perfect recipe for poor personal hygiene. I settle for putting my hands in my pockets, knowing that I'll over think my appearance if I don't for some reason or another. I know I'm weird.

"It'll be good to have you back Gerard." I scoff. "No seriously! It's been kind of falling apart around here this last week. You're the only one that knows how to do half of the techie shit on the tills." He giggles. "Plus, I know we don't work together often, but I miss having you around."

I didn't know that I was that valued around here. Especially by Frank. He actually seems like he means it that he misses me and it kind of confuses me. He doesn't even know me. The gesture is nice regardless so I don't question it. He's an awkward guy. He's probably just trying to make me feel better about being stuck at a grocery job. It's kind of working.

"Do you work tomorrow?" I ask, trying to change the subject. Not that I don't love being showered in praise, I just don't know how to react to it.

"Yeah. Two to nine." He answers quickly with a small smile. He's probably just happy it isn't night shift. Hell, I would be too working here.

"Same." I tell him. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Frank." His eyes light up and his smile turns to somewhat of a toothy grin.

"See you tomorrow."

I head back to the car and an idea strikes me as I do so. I keep it to myself for now due to the nature of it and what it could imply but I feel almost giddy for the first time in my grief stricken state. This could solve everything if I play my cards right and I can't help but believe it's one of the best ideas I've had yet in all my twenty years of life. I help my mom load the rest of the groceries into the car before looping my brain on one set objective. Things are going to be okay if I can just do this one thing.

"Ready to go?" My mother asks as we take our respective seats.

"Yes." I beam over at her and she looks confused, but shrugs it off. She won't even begin to know the half of it. We pull out of the grocery store parking lot.

Ready to go.

***
4006 words.

So I'm super excited to put this out there. With Christmas just passing I'm having a really hard time without my dad and I just needed somewhere to put everything that I've been feeling for the past 10 months. I've been listening to a whole lot of mcr to get through it so I thought what better of a ship to use for this story line other than Gerard and Frank.

Anyways please enjoy this mess of grief. Just remember while reading, grief isn't linear, so the chapters won't align with most orders of how people think grief is felt. I'm going to try to reflect my journey in a way.

Hope you lovelies liked the first chapter,

With love, fan_face ❤️