At four am, Frank came to both a decision and a conclusion, with dawn light streaming in through the windows, and neither of the two lovers really asleep in bed, but still they lay there, deep in thought, whisked away, but with eyes wide upon and fixated upon two different corners of the room.

There was always something wrong, and that very thing lay at the back of Frank's mind, stemmed from their walk yesterday afternoon, just through the park, through a town they knew too well, that seemed almost like a different world through older eyes.

He hadn't mentioned it to Gerard, but with how much he couldn't get it out of his mind, he wouldn't be all that surprised if Gerard already knew, because yesterday afternoon they'd passed dangerously close to Frank's old street, and all he could think of was that house and the man that may or may not still reside in.

And in those hours, Frank had gathered perhaps thousands of things he wanted to say to his father, but whether any of this was really a good idea was a different matter entirely, and well, Gerard was great with ideas, so Frank did consider talking to him about it, but it was four in the morning and he hadn't slept, and he was hardly in the mindset to do anything besides think destructive thoughts.

And he couldn't fucking sleep, and it fucking sucked.

He rolled over, facing Gerard beside him and giving his boyfriend a small nudge, to which, he rolled over and faced Frank.

"Go to sleep, Frankie, it's like four in the morning." He let out a sigh, propping his head up on his hand, "you're already beautiful, but you need your beautiful sleep."

"And you need to stop being so fucking cheesy." Frank groaned, looking up at Gerard, "do you know?" He asked.

"Know what?" Gerard asked, moving a little closer to Frank.

"What I'm thinking about? You know with your ghost mind reading power bullshit or whatever?" Frank asked, gesturing awkwardly with his hands, well yeah, of course his hands, he wasn't waving at Gerard with his dick or anything, although that would probably be easier than explaining just why he might possibly see his father again.

"Sort of." Gerard sat up, focusing for a moment, "it's about your dad, but I don't know what exactly."

"Mmm..." Frank nodded, sitting up too, only to lean his head into Gerard's lap, because despite this all, he was still fucking tired. "I want to see him, I just... talk to him, I don't know, maybe even just see if he's still there in that house."

"Makes sense." Gerard nodded, responding in exactly the way Frank had expected him not to. "What do you want to say?"

"Just ask him why he's such a fucking asshole. I'm like twenty eight now he's gotta be like sixty, he can't push me around anymore." Frank spoke with an unexpected degree of courage. "I wanna ask him why, you know? It was all fine, he was a good dad until mum died. I miss her, I wish I could talk to her too."

"Maybe you could, I mean, I don't know, if she's still somewhere here, drifting around, then I could try to find her." Gerard began, meeting Frank's eyes, "I don't know how much luck we'd have though, but still you'd have to have a conversation through me."

"I think she'd like you." Frank admitted, smiling up at Gerard, "then again, I really am quite biased, aren't I?"

"So do you wanna just check out your old house? Just ring the doorbell, see what happens, because he might not even live there anymore, it might be some random old lady or something?" Gerard asked, playing with Frank's hair as he spoke.

"Why not?" Frank shrugged it off, "I really want to punch him in the face if I do see him, though, and you'll protect me, right?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Gerard let out a chuckle, "I will fight everyone in this goddamn universe for you, Frank Iero."

"So if we're seeking out both my parents, are you not gonna-"

"No." Gerard shook his head firmly at that one. "You're not dead, Frank. You don't get how complicated this all is."

"Well, couldn't I stop in and see Mikey or your mum because they were there for me a lot after you died, you know? And I didn't say a thing since I got out... it was all New York, new life, some bullshit that I thought would make everything okay. I didn't know what I was doing: I still don't."

"You could, but you talking to Mikey again makes me want to talk to Mikey again."

"And why is that a bad thing?" Frank retorted, raising his eyebrows.

"How many times do I have to fucking say it?" He exclaimed, shaking his head, "I'm dead."

"You could explain. I could explain. Either of us could explain. We could both explain. Whatever - he's your brother, don't tell me you don't miss him."

"Of course I fucking miss him." Gerard's voice grew softer, "he's my fucking little brother, you're never going to understand how close we were, but it's different; he doesn't have this lovestruck thing like you do. You seem to love me no matter what, and I need that, and sometimes I feel like I take advantage of that, but I try not to, this is me trying my best, because this is a second chance for us and I can't fuck this one up."

"Gerard-"

"Has Mikey even forgiven me for killing myself?" Gerard asked, his words slashing the air: everything too blunt, and Frank shivered a little.

"He's your brother, he's missed you, he's going to want to see you again, regardless." Frank let out a sigh, leaning into Gerard's side, "I hated you at first, didn't I? Didn't want anything to do with, that's because I thought I was going crazy, but really I was going crazy without you."

"You weren't crazy at all." Gerard continued, his tone rather adamant in nature. "I mean that, and I know that."

Frank paused, not really wanting to start an argument, "okay, Gee, I'm gonna go to sleep now." He rolled over, pressing his face into Gerard's chest.

"Okay." Gerard paused, brushing Frank's hair from his face, and moving to press a kiss to his lips, "night, Frankie."

"Love you..." Frank muttered, closing his eyes and letting the night close in around him.

"Love you too." Gerard responded, but by that point Frank was already asleep.

-

Frank felt sick the very moment he stepped foot upon the road. Of course, it wasn't just any road, but one of a far too familiar variety.

It wasn't anything special to anyone really, in fact, it wasn't even all that special to Frank himself, it was just his road, and within a few minutes walk he'd find himself at that house, the house he couldn't quite dare to call his anymore.

He knew only then, only in that moment with feet on familiar gravel, that this was a bad idea, but it was in that very same moment that he realised there was nothing he could do about it anymore.

He glanced beside him to face Gerard, the taller man holding tight to his hand and continuing to walk forward with nothing said between the two; Gerard had been reluctant too, but they'd made some stupid little deal about Gerard going to see Mikey, or at least acknowledging his existence if Frank did this.

It was a stupid idea, and Gerard came to that realisation too, but still, the two walked, nostalgia aching through Frank's bones, as every footstep became all the more familiar, and the world around him seem to close in on him again, as if once he set foot in that house he might not ever leave again.

He gripped Gerard's hand more tightly, desperately looking up at his boyfriend, with a panicked look in his eyes, however, Gerard didn't take notice; his mind taken away by what Frank didn't see, but what he did, especially as they approached the house, the whole atmosphere seemed to change into one of horror and hatred, and before him, things that no one should have ever seen: a woman and a man, the man chasing the woman out into the road, only for her to trip and crack her skull on the curb, lying broken in the street as the man stepped away.

Gerard only stirred as a car (a real one) turned around the corner, driving straight through the mess of the woman on the road, and the man beside her, and leaving them to disappear into thin air.

Gerard swallowed hard, muttering a, "fuck," under his breath as he quickened his pace, the two nearing Frank's house with the most intense discomfort.

"What?" Frank asked, grabbing his boyfriend by both hands and forcing his gaze into his, "what's wrong, Gerard?" Because in that moment, Frank desperately wanted something to be wrong, he desperately wanted a reason to turn back, a reason he couldn't do this, but with every step there was only a million more reasons as to why he should keep on going.

"Just something I saw..." Gerard trailed off, glancing back to the curb where a smaller road joined this one.

"A memory kind of thing?" Frank asked, following Gerard's gaze with desperation, despite the fact he knew he could never see anything.

"Yeah.." Gerard swallowed, "it... it wasn't pleasant. This whole road seems to have this bad kind of feeling that goes straight to your bones, do you feel it too?"

Frank nodded, "I thought it was just nerves, though." He paused, his eyes pleading with Gerard's, "what did you see?"

"You don't need to know." Gerard let out a sigh, pulling his gaze away, forward, and burying the vision of that woman's body: bloody, bruised and broken. "It was horrific." He let out a sigh, the two stepping forward, growing ever closer to Frank's house.

"I'm not a baby, Gerard, tell me." Frank insisted, really just eager for anything to distract him from what lay before him in the form of a house he hadn't set foot in for too long, and in the same way, not long enough.

And as Gerard struggled to form some sort of response, he found his gaze fixated upon another figure at the end of the road, and as he focused in upon it, he recognised it to be the very same man, the woman's body in his arms, carrying her still bleeding, broken body out of the road and down the path into the woodland.

And as much as Gerard needed to rid the images from his mind, he needed to follow the man too; he glanced back at Frank, who grew evermore concerned by the second, and remembered how the man and the woman in his arms would be there forever, whereas the man beside him would not.

"She died and now, now I think he's burying her. I don't know. I hope he is." Gerard choked out, turning back to Frank, and pulling him closer, "there's a man, there's a woman too, she fell, she cracked her head upon on the curb, and he carried her body out towards the woods. I want to follow them." Gerard pressed a kiss to Frank's lips, pulling away.

"Gerard, I-"

"I can follow them later, I have to be there for you now." He held Frank's hand tighter, "I promised I'd be there for you."

"That sounds important, though-" Frank protested, using anything as an excuse.

"Nothing is more important than you." Gerard insisted, turning to the house now only a few steps away, "it's this one, isn't it?"

Frank swallowed, "yeah. Can you see anything? Like memories..."

Gerard focused for a moment, stepping closer, "I can feel them, but I... I can't see anything... it's like some one or something's protecting them... it's weird..." Gerard turned back to Frank, thinking for a moment, "step back just a moment, just to the other side of the street."

"Why?" Frank asked, but with the look in Gerard's eyes, he obliged, and watched as his boyfriend stepped closer to his house.

Gerard stood at the gateway, stepping forward and focusing upon the front yard, his head beginning to ache, and the memories beginning to make sense of one another, but still in that moment, he saw nothing more than a figure: ghostly, ethereal, ancient perhaps, stepping forward from what appeared to be nowhere.

The figure appeared to be female, her features coming into focus as she stood before Gerard, acknowledging his presence, but choosing to look straight past him and out the gate towards Frank at the other side of the road.

"Don't bring him here." It took Gerard a moment to realise that it was the figure who had spoken; her voice somewhat muffled, and appearing more in Gerard's mind than the real world.

"Why not?" Gerard asked aloud, only for the figure to ignore him, continuing to stare at Frank, unnerving Gerard just a little. He tried again, this time speaking the same way the figure had, more in his mind, "why not?"

This time, the figure seemed to take notice of him, turning to face him with a somewhat confused expression, "don't bring him here. Bring him here and he'll die here."

Before Gerard could question the figure further, the front door of the house opened, and in the doorway stood a woman, this one far more real in nature, and in her presence, the figure beside him faded away into nothingness.

The woman appeared to be in her early sixties, with blonde hair and wrinkles upon her face, but with that sparkle in her eyes still somewhat intact; she seemed to be vaguely friendly, a good person, from what Gerard could feel from her, but still, there was something with this place, and that figure, it was like something was blocking out everything here - one memory screaming louder than all the rest and perhaps rendering itself the only one audible.

"Can I help you?" She asked, looking at Gerard with a kind of innate distrust, but then again, Gerard had just been standing in her garden, talking to himself for a good few minutes now, it might have caused her to wonder just what was wrong with him.

"Uhh..." Gerard trailed off, glancing back to where Frank had stood, to find him making his way through the gate and to Gerard's side.

"And you?" She turned to Frank, with the same kind of distrust.

"I was just... I was wondering if my father still lived here, I guess he doesn't, so, I guess we'll just go now." Frank blushed a little, his words phrased awkwardly.

"Was your father... I can't quite recall his first name... something... beginning with A perhaps, but the man who lived here before me was a Mr Iero." She paused, deep in thought.

Frank glanced at Gerard with a kind of confusion, unsure what quite had happened here, but Gerard had no answers, instead, he couldn't see anything at all.

"Yes," Frank finally found the words, "I'm Frank Iero, I moved out when I was eighteen, we never really spoke, and I came back to Jersey with Gerard," he gestured to Gerard, "and I just, I was wondering where he is now."

The woman paused for a moment, "would you like to come in? For a cup of tea? My name's Beth, Beth Anderson. I don't know everything, but I can tell you a little about your father."

Frank glanced at Gerard, before nodding, "yeah, that'd be nice."

Gerard however, found himself with an odd kind of sinking feeling in his chest, one directly linked to what the figure had said to him: a feeling he couldn't quite get out of his body, but he knew it'd be ridiculous to say anything, and spirits were often out of touch with reality, she probably hadn't even been aware that she was talking to him, perhaps imagining another man in his place, and with that, Gerard brushed it off and followed Frank inside.

Frank began to shiver a little at the sight of his childhood home: the interior redone a little, but it was still very much the same place, and it still held very much the same solemn tone.

"What would like to drink?" She asked as they made it into the living room.

"Coffee would be fine, a little bit of milk, no sugar." Frank answered, suddenly caring intensely about coffee, but really anything to block out this place from his mind; he didn't need powers like Gerard's to see the memories in this place.

"I'm fine without." Gerard smiled at her, sitting down on the sofa beside Frank.

"Are you sure?" She stressed in that stereotypical motherly tone. "I have water or juice-"

"I'm fine." Gerard insisted, nodding, and with that she finally made her way into the kitchen.

"What can you see?" Frank asked, his tone hushed once Beth had left the room.

Gerard focused hard but still shook his head, "I can't see anything - it's weird, Frank, it really is."

"What about outside? There was clearly something outside." Frank insisted, meeting Gerard's eyes with an odd kind of look.

"Just this figure, but it didn't make much sense at all. Some woman speaking to someone who wasn't there anymore." Gerard let out a sigh, "this place is a place of sorrow, I tell you that." Gerard let out a sigh. "And wherever your father-"

"He's dead." Frank spoke with an odd kind of calmness. "He's dead, I just know it; he wouldn't move, he wouldn't leave this house. He died."

"I'm sorry." Gerard let out a sigh, pulling Frank closer to him. "You've lost everyone now, I'm so fucking sorry-"

"Gerard, it's fine." Frank pulled away a little, "I have you." And the way he said those words made up for the simplicity of them, and in that moment, the two men shared a silent understanding as Beth made her way back into the living room with coffee for Frank and tea for herself.

"Well," she began, placing the drinks down on the coffee table and moving a chair to sit opposite the two men, "I'm sorry, but there's no easy way to say this... your father's dead."

Frank nodded, glancing at Gerard, and watching for his reaction, however Gerard seemed to come to a sudden realisation half way through her sentence, his gaze fixated off elsewhere with an odd kind of unnerving look in his eyes.

"Okay..." Frank let out a sigh, "we weren't... we weren't that close anyway, I mean we didn't speak for ten years or so, and I... he wouldn't leave this place, I guessed that the moment I saw you."

Beth smiled, truly sympathetic for Frank, even if she felt Gerard to be a little odd, "I'm sorry, Frank. I didn't know him, I was just the person that bought this house a couple of months after he'd gone."

"When exactly was it?" Frank asked, ignoring Gerard's odd behavior, and in particular, the way the taller man's eyes fixated upon the door leading into the dining room.

"Last year. Last October, the thirtieth, I think." She shivered a little, "liver failure, they said. He died in a hospital bed. He's buried in the graveyard, I think, if you want to go visit him."

Frank nodded, "I think we'd do that, what do you think, Gerard?" He turned to his boyfriend, but Gerard's face was entirely vacant. "Gerard? What's wrong?"

"Can I just..." He got to his feet, "I'm sorry, Beth, but can I just check something, it's the house, you know?" He stumbled over his words as he spoke, and Frank knew instantly that something was up.

"It's fine, dear, just don't break anything." She let out a half hearted kind of forced laugh, and took a sip of her tea as Gerard made his way through the kitchen and into the dining room, leaving Frank to follow him out of concern.

When Frank made his way inside the dining room, he found Gerard stood with his gaze fixated upon the ceiling fan, a horrified kind of look in his eyes, and with nothing to say for himself.

"Gerard? What's wrong?" Frank exclaimed, his voice perhaps a little too loud, "you're acting weird, you know?"

Beth followed them inside a moment later, following Gerard's gaze, and letting out a laugh, "thing's never worked, no idea why. I've had people look at it, no one can figure out what's wrong with it." She laughed, flicking the switch and showing them that the fan didn't move at all.

Gerard let out a sigh, turning back to Frank and stepping backwards a little; he knew why that fan didn't move.

And in the very same moment he also knew why he couldn't see anything around this house - it had been a case of one thing, being so strong, strong enough to block out the rest.

And that thing lay in the form of a man who'd hung himself from the ceiling fan that didn't move anymore; that man was Mr Iero.

-

I'm like gerard way right now because i have so many ideas for this fic and all of them will make you cry. :) votes and comments would be nice :) i lov u guys :) i promise lmao :) (((this fic is getting so good help me i didn't expect this)))