Frank had told Ray that everything was okay, and perhaps it wasn't such a lie, and perhaps he was indeed fine, but perhaps he really shouldn't measure his emotional wellbeing on whether when he lied he caught a glimpse of a smirk of a redhead figure's lips in the corner of his eye.

Christa had at least been persuasive and had urged Ray to just let Frank go in a manner that would leave Frank suspecting that she really didn't want him in her home at all, and Frank couldn't fucking imagine why, because it wasn't like he was insane was it?

Frank had let Ray practically force-feed him some breakfast, before making his way to the spare room, and trying to avoid staring at the walls, and catching sight of any of those rampantly insane thoughts that had bothered him many hours ago, but that was all it was: hours.

And Frank had something close to a headache as he grabbed the packet of cigarettes from the bedside table, and contemplated just what the fuck he was doing with his life: whether he was making the right decision, that kind of nonsense, but of course, in reality, there was really little such thing as the 'right' decision, just a few that didn't entirely fuck you over.

But still, Frank reckoned that every choice open to him right now was destined to little more than absolutely fuck his life to shreds, and still, Frank pulled on a hoodie, and met his reflection in the mirror and regretted it instantly.

"Fuck." He sighed allowed, shaking his head in synchronisation with the man behind the glass, who indeed looked like him, but wasn't really him at all: for a start, the figure on the other side of the mirror was missing the asshole with the scarlet red hair beside him, who flickered in the light and barely looked real at all.

Frank shuddered, taking Gerard's hand and pulling him closer. The 'younger' man raised his eyebrows at that, following Frank's gaze back to the mirror, where suddenly, a flicker of Gerard's reflection began to materialise.

"How the fuck does that work?" Frank snapped, somewhat in awe as he glanced between 'real' Gerard, and what he could see of mirror Gerard.

Gerard shrugged it off, not entirely sure himself, but he really reckoned that Frank was in anything but the state to just take an 'I don't know' for an answer. "I guess it's something to do with the fact that the closer I am to you, the more 'real' I get, well, I get closer to your dimension of existence, like I'm floating away a little, all the time, but when you hold my hand, it sort of grounds me a little: not entirely, but a little."

"I don't think I could ever let go of your hand again now." Frank muttered, and perhaps he wasn't even exaggerating, because the prospect of Gerard just 'floating away' seemed little short of a fucking nightmare, but if that was a nightmare, what could Frank possibly call his life?

"It's fine, I'm gonna stay here with you, Frankie, you know that, now come on, we've gotta go home, haven't we?" Gerard paused, turning to meet Frank's reflection, "Christa's starting to notice, you know?"

"Fuck." Frank shuddered at that, shaking his head a little, because he was so fucking fucked, and he so just couldn't deal with that at all, but as with everything, he found he had little choice.

"Yeah, come on, baby, let's just go-"

"Baby." Frank repeated, shaking his head in the silence for a moment, as Gerard almost seemed to grind to a halt, and Frank's heart practically pounded right out of his chest. "Baby..." He repeated once more, looking up to meet Gerard's gaze. "W- Why... why are you still calling me that?"

"Because you're my baby." And Gerard said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, his voice perhaps little more than a whisper, but the words meaning the absolute world.

"I was Gerard, that was... when I was eighteen and you were twenty two, and now I'm twenty eight and you're still twenty two, and I'll be thirty eight, and you'll still be twenty two, I'll be forty eight, I'll be fifty eight, I'll be sixty eight, I'll be seventy eight, and then I'll probably get lung cancer and not make it any further, but I'll still be twenty two, and you-"

"But when you die, I 'die', I mean, I have no one tying me down to the living world, so I have to go... I have to go wherever else there is to go: I don't know, I'm sorry, Frankie, but I don't know what the hell is to happen to us." Gerard shook his head, clutching Frank's hand a little tighter. "You're always going to be my baby."

"And you're always going to be the world's biggest sweetheart and the world's biggest asshole at the same time." Frank shook his head, not even entirely sure if there was any sort of endearing intent behind his words at all.

"Maybe, maybe not." Gerard shrugged, pulling away from Frank a little, "come on, before they hear you talking to yourself; that's not going to look like a good sign, you know?"

"B-but...." Frank's eyes widened in disbelief. "Talking to myself? I... Gerard..."

"You're not, of course you're not, but... that's what they think, isn't it? The doctors think that too? They call you schizophrenic, they say I'm in your head, they tell you to forget me, and they tell you to ignore this, they tell you to be scared of your boyfriend, and they fuck with your head, more than I ever could, and you know that, don't you, Frankie? But you don't, because their lies are deadset into your head, and there's no escaping that, is there?"

"I... Gerard... I-"

"You're not schizophrenic, Frankie, come on, hold my hand." And Frank did, shaking a little as he did so, because Gerard's tone wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing in the world. "There you go? Are you hallucinating this? Is this real? Who the fuck knows? I do, though, because I can see so many things that you can't, Frankie; I'm not in your dimension and I'm not quite in mine, I'm between the two, I get overlap, I see patterns, I... everything's blurry, because I'm standing too close but if you look away and visualise the bigger picture... I see everything, and you get that, don't you? I can see Ray and Christa in the kitchen right now, they're talking, Ray is getting suspicious, so is Christa, but she's trying not to let it get to her or her husband; she doesn't want you gone, she believes in ghosts, you know? But she'd never admit that to Ray-"

"Gerard, fuck, you're scaring me, I..." Frank bit his lip, shaking his head and turning away into the silence.

"I'm sorry baby." And cold arms around his waist, and cold lips against the back of his neck: gentle, too fast, too soon, but somehow everything in the world.

-

Frank and Gerard hadn't spoken throughout the whole journey home: it'd just cause inconvenience and people to stare at Frank and wonder just what he was doing engaging in conversation with the nothingness beside him, but Gerard remained close to Frank, in his sights, and perhaps the older man could kid himself that it was enough.

He locked his front door behind him, and Gerard stood there, his gaze something like fixated on the back wall, and the balcony, and the window, and his mind on that night, that night, and Frank's punch, and everything and the mess they'd made, and how Gerard said it was okay now, but it wasn't, it really wasn't.

And it was just like everything that had happened when he was alive: every mistake and every mess, and how they'd simply brushed over that for relief that they could be with one another again, but they could never quite possibly forget just how fucked up everything had been, could they?

Gerard shook his head in disbelief, not at all intent on focusing on the past, but at times like this, he really couldn't help himself, and perhaps that was exactly what was going to fucking ruin him in the end, but if he could be with Frank, Gerard reckoned he'd let the whole world burn.

"Gerard?" Frank asked, tentatively approached the vacant eyed figure; Gerard flickering rapidly, and almost in an alarming manner, like sparking electricity that would kill him if he touched it.

"I..." Gerard exhaled loudly, his eyes widening as they met Frank's, and he pulled the older man as close to him as possible, grounding himself in the moment, and doing everything in his power not to cry. "I'm sorry."

And Frank found himself more than just a little confused as the red head pulled his arms tightly around Frank, not ever intent on letting go.

"Hey... hey..." Frank pulled Gerard away, just a little, so that their face were centimetres apart, and their hands in one another's, and Gerard felt real enough, just for now. "Why are you sorry? Gee, what's wrong?"

And that was when Gerard really started to cry, and quite honestly, Frank hadn't reckoned Gerard Way capable of crying, but of course, he found himself in the wrong for the millionth time.

"Gee, please... I... what's wrong? Tell me, come on..." Frank pleaded, moving one hand away from Gerard's to brush the hair from the 'younger' man's face, and wipe the tears, as he met his gaze once more.

"Gee." Gerard repeated, shaking his head in something like disbelief. "You called me Gee. You haven't called me Gee for ten years, you know that? What the fuck's changed?"

"I..." Frank's eyes widened a little as he revelled in the realisation. "I didn't even, I... I... it just came out, naturally, I... I'm sorry, Gee."

"God, you... I feel like I'm falling apart whenever you call me that, you know?" Gerard shook his head in disbelief, smiling just a little, because Frank was so insanely beautiful, and he was so insanely fucked, but in that moment, perhaps he could pretend that things were just like they had been before everything fell apart.

"How the fuck do you think I feel when you say Frankie or Baby, then?" Frank shook his head, pressing their foreheads together, and perhaps in that moment, it felt like there was really another man close to him, and not just a reality he'd concocted for himself.

And just then, just once, Frank didn't feel like he was about to wake up at any moment: to wake up, perhaps in the same hospital, the same bed, the same hell, the same emptiness, but no, this was real, and Frank was certain of that.

So very certain, so very fucking certain: unbelievably certain, and Gerard's smile, and the stupid words, and stupider smiles, and the fucking tears were proof enough.

"I'm sorry." Gerard repeated, muttering the words like they held weight on his lips. "I'm sorry for that day, because I don't think about it, but I am now, and you think about it all the time, and I can't bear this, and I can't understand how you bear it all the time, and I'm so sorry, I..."

"Why..." Frank shook his head, knowing he was taking a risk here, "Why the fuck did you do it? Come on, Gee, you know you've given me absolutely nothing in regards to an explanation here."

"I did it because I was fucked up enough to think that by removing myself from the situation I was saving you, but now I see that it isn't so: I reckon we kind of fit together, like we're made to be together, as soppy as it sounds, but I need you, and I know you need me too, and I'm so sorry, but look, I'm here now, and that's the best we're going to get but-"

"It's not enough, it's really not, Gerard." Frank shook his head, "I'm sorry, but ten fucking years, I... you have no idea: you really don't, you get that, don't you? But you don't, you never could and you never will, because I don't think you ever truly understand just how much I loved you. And how much it hurt: how much I cried, how much everyone cried, you don't fucking have a clue, you know that, Gerard?"

"I'm sorry." He repeated, his voice weak and shaking a little.

"Fuck you, Gerard."

"Why the fuck are you all 'Gee, please' begging me for an explanation but when I do give it you, why are you all 'fuck you, Gerard' - that's what makes no sense, Frank?"

And Frank shook his head in disbelief, at a loss for any form of explanation. "I don't know."

"It's not good enough."

"I know; I could never be good enough, not for you."

-

And it was a banging on Frank's door at seven in the morning, that had him rolling out of bed and onto the floor with a series of unfortunate, angry grunts and moans, and a chorus of half-hearted, sleepy laughter from the figure in the other side of the bed.

"Fuck you." Frank groaned, stumbling to his feet, and grabbing his shirt from last night from the floor.

"Been there, done that, got your t-shirt!" He smirked, pulling the shirt from Frank's hands like the world's most annoying toddler, and all while the banging on Frank's door only increased.

"Give me my fucking shirt, Gerard." Frank shook his head in disbelief, reaching his hand out for Gerard to place it back in his hand. "Come on, I can't answer the door shirtless, can I?"

"Sure you can." Gerard smirked, moving the shirt under his head, and rolling over and using it like a pillow. "Go on, go answer the door, Frankie."

Frank threw him the most vigorous middle finger known to mankind as he stumbled towards the closet, and ignored all urges to climb into it and hide away forever, as he grabbed a shirt, and pulled it over his head, cursing to himself as he finally made his way to the door, and wondered if the person outside had actually died of old age in the time it had taken him to answer, which, of course, was totally one hundred percent Gerard's fault, not that that was something he could casually explain to whoever it was though.

"You took your time!" Brendon exclaimed, barging into Frank's apartment before the shorter of the two could even fathom protesting. 

"Bren!" Frank exclaimed, watching as his asshole of a best friend made himself far too comfortable on the sofa. "Now is really not a good time!" He protested, shaking his head firmly, and as if the situation could not get any worse at all, a naked Gerard Way made his way into the room to see what was going on.

Gerard made sure Frank was of course very well aware that Brendon couldn't see him as he stood there, all too casually with his dick out.

"Quite possibly the worst timing ever." Frank shook his head, directing his words at both Brendon and Gerard. "But what is it?" He asked Brendon exclusively this time.

"I've done it, Frankie, I've found you a date, and you're going on a date today, and he's totally your type and even Ryan approved him, and it's going to be great and you're going to be happy." Brendon's face lit up into a grin, and Frank looked at Gerard like he was on 'The Office'.

"No, not today, can't do today, can't do ever either; I don't want to go on dates, especially not with people you've 'approved' - he's probably a serial killer or something, knowing you." Frank shook his head, looking at Gerard to gauge his reaction, and well, to say the least, jealousy was something Gerard really did struggle with.

"I'm not gonna leave until you say yes-"

"Brendon's that manipulation, you're manipulating me." Frank shook his head in disbelief. "Look, I don't feel so good, can we talk about this later, I just really need to go back to bed." And Frank even coughed for effect.

Brendon shook his head, but there was a stubborn look in Frank's eyes and he didn't have all the time in the world, "fuck, whatever, get better soon, because you're fucking going on a date with this dude, okay? He finds you attractive, I'll text you a picture of him-"

"Yeah, whatever, Brendon, fuck off, I need to go back to bed before I die of the plague or something."

Brendon shook his head, "you've got a cough at best; you're the worst liar in the world, Frank," and with that he closed the front door behind him.

And just like that, Frank barely had a moment to breathe before Gerard had him pinned against the wall, their bodies pressed up close to one another. 

"Fuck." Frank choked out, his eyes widening as he looked up a little to meet Gerard's.

"Come on, Frankie, you need to get to bed, right now." Gerard snapped, clearly pissed off, clearly jealous, and Frank was just a little bit nervous, to say the least. "Or we could sort this out right here and right now, because you're mine, Frankie, my baby, you're not- you fucking dare-"

"Why would I, Gee?" Frank shook his head, leaning his head back against the wall. "It's just Brendon: I can be ill forever, can't I?"

But Gerard had come to conclude that actions definitely spoke louder than words, as Frank found the 'younger' boy's response to come in the from of his mouth around Frank's cock, which was just a little bit of surprise, to say the least, and Frank couldn't help but wonder what Brendon would think if he came back now and saw Frank's dick being sucked by little more than thin air.

"Fucking hell, Gerard." Frank exclaimed, moaning a little as Gerard took more of his dick down his throat, only to stop and pull off completely, leaving Frank whining like fuck, as Gerard simply smirked up at him.

"You know I literally have no gag reflex now?" And that was all it took, before Frank was literally fucking Gerard's mouth, because he needed to get off, and he needed to get off right now, and he didn't care about anything in the world besides Gerard's mouth and his dick.

It didn't take too long before Frank was coming like hell itself down Gerard's throat, well, technically speaking, the come kind of just shot through him, and landed on the floor regardless, but neither of the two were at all in the mood to get into the logistics of things in that moment.

And Gerard pressed himself up against Frank, "fucking get me off, please, I..." He begged, grabbing Frank's hand and placing it around his dick, thrusting a little, and Frank was shaking like hell, barely able to move, but fuck, he did as he was told, because Gerard and rationality were two entirely different things.

And perhaps Frank kind of liked it that way.

-

hey pals im really tired but look chapter, look vague efforts at smut lmao i tried. 10/10. anyway votes and comments would be super cool because youre all super cool and youre my super cool pals!! i love you super lots, all of you okay