I took Frank home after chemo the next day. He was passed out in the passenger seat, slouched into the door, his head leaning on the window. I frowned a lip looking at him. He looked so tired in general, tired of chemo, tired of pain, tired of living.

Gerard texted me and said he'd be at my apartment any minute to help. As long as he was away from his house and all of the thoughts alone, I was happy. Any help for Frank was appreciated.

When we got there, I came around to his door and opened it slowly, careful not to let him slip through. He leaned against me drowsily and I carefully led him up the steps and into my bedroom.

I went to the kitchen and filled a glass with some water and walked back into my room. I'd expected to see him sleeping soundly, but he wasn't. He was fighting back sobs and faced down towards the mattress.

I dropped the water on my dresser and hurried to his side. I bent down by his head and ran my hand through his sweaty hair. He looked me deeply in the eyes behind tears that dripped down his cheeks. I looked back, and we stayed there locked in each others presence until he fell back asleep.

I stood up and kissed his forehead and started to leave the room. Something was missing though. It was too quiet.

He wasn't sleeping.

I turned back to him and shook his shoulder gently. Nothing. My heart started racing and I searched desperately for the oxygen mask. Emergencies only. This counts. He's not breathing.

The door opened and Gerard offered a smile as I dug in the closet. I turned to him, my eyes bloodshot and teared up. His smile broke and he ran into the room, calling Frank's name repeatedly.

I shouted curse words until I finally found it. Gerard was pushing at his chest and made way as soon as he saw me. I strapped the mask over Frank's parted lips. I felt my heart beating in every part of my body. I backed away and hoped for the best.

A shaky breath came in and Frank coughed violently, but he began to breathe again, falling back asleep after a battle.

I sighed in relief and collided with Gerard. He wrapped his arms tightly around me.

He patted my back, "Good work..."

I nodded and steadied my own breath, "Thank you for helping..."

"I think we better keep that on all the time, yeah?" he suggested.

I nodded again, "Yeah."

Even though neither of us were hungry, we ordered a pizza and nibbled on the smallest pieces in the box. We watched Netflix and Gee even sang for me.

He got a call in the middle of watching a show. I paused the tv and tried not to listen in on the conversation.

"Shit," Gee ran his hand through his hair, "There's no way we can get around it?"

It was quiet for the next few seconds until he let out an exasperated sigh, "Alright, alright. We'll find a replacement."

He hung up and growled at his phone, making a funny face at it.

I laughed, "What was that for?"

"Our manager is pissy about us missing tour dates. He wants us to preform in three days with or without Frank," Gerard explained and looked to my bedroom door where Frank was snoring softly, "There's no way he can play now. I'll have to go find someone to take his place."

"Gerard fucking Way don't you replace me yet," came a voice from my room. I guess he wasn't sleeping after all.

We laughed and followed each other to him. Frank looked a lot better and even smiled a bit as we sat on the bed with him.

"I'm serious. I can play. I'll sit in a chair the whole time if I have to," he persisted.

"With the way you play? Running around the stage like you've caught fire? No way you can sit still for a second," I teased.

Somehow he managed to sell his story to us. He came to the next concert with an oxygen mask strapped to his face. He still wouldn't sit still like I told him he wouldn't. In fact, he didn't have a chair.

The fans went nuts to see Frank. We were worried of what they might think, but they loved his dedication to the band. It was cute to see them so happy just because they saw Frank walk on. He was happy too, finally doing something he liked.

I was happy too.