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Smother me	By : EmilyRose Category: My Chemical Romance > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1444 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of My Chemical Romance. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Frank's P.O.V.

Sometimes I wonder, what had happened if things had been different. If I didn't have a problem with anger, or if Gerard simply hadn't disliked himself so much. If I hadn't listened to that little voice in my head that told me to shut him up, no matter what it took. Every day I wish I had listened to that voice. I imagine it, every day, what would've happened had I not picked the pillow up.

"Gerard, stop that, you're beautiful, just the way you are!" I frowned again, but my words didn't seem to reach his heart. I tilted my head to the right and motioned for him to sit next to me on the bed. As always he obeyed, and I grabbed his hand as soon as he was seated on the edge of the bed with me.

For a minute not a word was spoken, as he didn't seem to know what to say, and as I tried to choose my words carefully.

"Gerard, will you tell me why you can't see yourself in the same light that I can?" I asked, for the first time, willing to discuss it. To perhaps see things from his side, from inside his head, to understand his thoughts. He squirmed next to me, not wanting to answer, but I stayed silent, letting him know I wasn't going to drop the subject.

"I just don't understand why you don't break up with me. There must be so many other more attractive guys out there. I'm fat and ugly and boring." He said, keeping his eyes on the ground. I leaned towards him, and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek, making him smile slightly.

"You're not fat or ugly or boring. You're beautiful, chubby and charming." I admitted. Because it would be stupid to say he was skinny, because he wasn't.

He of course wasn't fat, but he was chubby. I still loved him, and I still loved his extra weight, but fact was that he was overweight. I never understood why some people insisted in lying to their friends.

"I'm so sick of being fat" is a line that no one wants to be answered with "but you're not fat". If someone is overweight, they know it, because they're not stupid. So their friend lying to their face about it is hardly going to make them feel better about it.

No, a line like that should be replied to with "you're still beautiful", "I love you no matter what you look like" or "there's nothing wrong with being chubby". That shows a person you still love them, even if they do have a bit of extra weight. Lying to their face about it, shows that you do care if they're overweight since you have the need to deny facts.

Gerard didn't answer at first, so I dared myself to kiss him once more. This time he let his eyes meet mine, and I could see he was honestly scared. But for what, I didn't know. I didn't say anything, I just kissed him.

We stayed together for a long time, we got married, adopted children, we were simply happy. Happy forever, together.

Of course my fantasy of mine and Gerard's life together changes from day to day. Some days I imagine us living alone forever. Some days I imagine us traveling the world, others I just imagine us having a quiet life. On some days, I even imagine us being famous in a huge band. The two of us, together still, standing on stage every night pouring our hearts into our music. I would play the guitar, Gerard would sing – I knew he could, I had heard him a few times – and two other lucky people would play bass and drums. It didn't matter who they were, their faces were never important in my fantasies. No, what was important was that Gerard and I were together.

Together in a band called… well, that part wasn't important either. Just the fact that Gerard and I got to stand on stage, showing the world our love, was important. I would be crazy, my guitar would almost break from my violent playing. Almost.

Gerard would be confident, almost arrogant, and walk around the stage between songs, holding speeches about confidence and about other things that mattered. But mostly he would stop mid sentence, turn back towards me, and say into the microphone; "I fucking love you Frank Iero!"

Sometimes I think I must be crazy, imagining all the things that I do. But most of the time I know that my imagination is all I have. It's all I have that keeps me sane. It's all I have at night, when the other's come into my cell and wake me from my sleep. When they lick my ear and call me faggot. When they make me feel more pain than I have ever felt before; then I'm glad I have my imagination. As they ruin me once more, I'm happy that I can see myself living with Gerard somewhere far off.

But I never complain, because I deserve everything. Everything. I deserve having people hurt me, I deserve having people throw things at me, and I deserve being miserable. I deserve my mum visiting me only once a year, and I deserve that my father has stopped coming all together.

I had still been screaming at Gerard to wake up when Mikey and Gerard's mother Donna had stormed the bedroom, slamming the door open. I had screamed at them to help him, I had screamed that I didn't mean to, I had screamed that they needed to wake him up.

Donna had rushed to Gerard's body, and Mikey had punched me. I deserved that too. They called the police; I didn't try to run. I came with them, not making a fuss. I confessed instantly, I pleaded guilty, I admitted that what I had done was wrong. I knew- no I know it's wrong! I was wrong for doing what I did, and I deserve everything I ever get.

Except this…

Except being released, after only six years, because of good behavior. Being released from the prison where I lost everything, but also gained so much. My lawyer managed to get the deal, even if I didn't ask for it. My mother paid him, I'm sure.

So here I am, for the first time in six years, wearing my own clothes and not the orange jump suit I've been so used to. Here I am, after receiving my things from an officer. Here I am, as I blinking step out into the sun. And for the first time in six years; I'm free.

A/N:

Now, is this the end or isn't it?
Review, and let me know how you want it to be!

Anyway, so just to clearify a few things.
Of course when Frank imagines what would've happened if he hadn't smothered Gerard, what Gerard gives as a reason for being so selfconfident is only what Frank guesses. Perhaps there is a more deep reason, perhaps Frank is right. It's all in Frank's head, and it's only what he believes to be the reason.

Also, yes, Frank very much did get raped in prison. After all, he had tattooes and was gay - what else could be expected really?

I am very well aware that there are five members of MCR, and not four, but in Frank's imagination he only saw four members as he saw himself as the only guitarist. And like he says, the other members aren't imporant in his fantasy, so they are NOT Ray, Bob or Mikey.

No, I did not tell you weather Gerard lived or died. Perhaps it would be explained in later chapters, or perhaps this was the end?

For now, Frank is free.
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Smother me