InsaneJournal

Fic: Stumbling Forward--2/2 (MCR Just Frankie Verse)
header & part one




"Mmphfuckoffsleepin," Frank muttered and burrowed further into his pillow as Matt got up. Which honestly surprised the hell out of Matt, he'd known Frank to barely have an hour's sleep and eyes be snapping open at the least little bit of noise on the bus.

Matt managed to find the bathroom, which wasn't all that hard, the place wasn't that big. A long rummage through his bag came up with jeans and a t-shirt that were barely in the wearable zone, but not going to make everyone in a twenty foot radius puke or pass out or anything. Fuck. Laundry had passed really, really had to do, to critical crisis before the national guard had to be called in to hunt it down and stop alien life forms that crawled out of Matt's gear.

Frank & Matt,

Just turn on the coffee pot, it's set to go. Meet you at your mom's. She already called, said she was taking the day off. You and your laundry are expected whenever you're conscious.

Love J.


Matt started the coffee and settled himself on the couch. Frank wandered out as Matt returned to the couch and the price is right with a second cup of coffee.

For a second a defiant half frightened look flashed in Frank's eyes.

"Bout time you got up." Matt said, ignoring entirely the fact Frank had a soft clinging tank top and no bindings. "You should leave that shit off more often. Least when we're riding between venues and shit and it's just us. You're going to fuck yourself up, and not like any of us are gonna freak or look." Matt dared to say when Frank sat warily on the couch.

Frank shrugged.

"I'll sic Ray on you. He was doin' research and shit."

"I'll kick your ass again." Frank muttered.

"Just sayin'--don't fuckin'--this is your home, asshole, and no one on the bus is gonna--you're a rock star, people can fuck off and stay off the band's bus. The guys aren't gonna think twice. And we'll make sure the new drummer doesn't either. Mikey and I sat on Ray when he wanted to freak out about coughing blood from the fucking ace wraps you used to use...I just don't give a fuck. You're home, be comfortable..." Matt trailed off not sure how to say much of anything without putting his foot in his mouth.

Frank glared at Matt, and oh god, Ray doing research?

"I'll find some place else to crash if you can't just relax and breathe, Frank," Matt said quietly. "Gotta have someplace you feel safe and collapse and if you can't with me or any of us around, no one'll be upset you can't have us here. Why I kinda didn't say anything in the first place, figured you needed your down time--and you do."

Frank swallowed and nodded. Yeah, Matt hadn't missed how fucking deliberate what he was wearing at the moment was, he‘d raided Jamia‘s dresser because his own clothes needed washed so badly they were on the verge of sentient life forms. It was hot, and it was also the first thing not pink or lilac or yellow or something. But a fuck you this is my house all the same. "Reflex, Otter, just habit."

Matt nodded.

"Stay."

"See Jamia's note?" Matt asked.

"Yeah, and so heading over there in a bit. I'm out of clothes I can stand to put on. I raided James'. She's gonna be pissed."

Matt snorted. "If they had a hope in hell of fitting I'd probably do the same."

"Ray doing research means Ray having questions." Frank swallowed.

"Ray gives a fuck."

"Ray's not going to take I don't know or distraction like Gerard does." Frank sighed. "Awkward Twenty Questions Version Ray's gonna be a bitch when he gets to it.."

Matt raised an eyebrow.

Frank drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins, hiding his face in his knees.

"Oh no you don't. Uh uh, Iero. You are not taking me to meet your mother lookin' like someone shot your puppy while you were having a nervous breakdown. Fuck you, she'll kill me. And considering she got you to turn out pretty decent she's got to be fucking scary."

Frank gave a watery laugh. "Mom's...fucking amazing."

"Bet so. Her son is." Matt said sincerely.

Frank trembled just a little. "I'm not a girl." He’d thought it, but he’d never actually said it before, not aloud. Fuck, skittered away from thinking it.

"We pretty much all have that figured out, Frank," Matt agreed.

"Easier to just play and hide than think about..."

"Fuckin' believe that, can't--fuck." Matt shook his head. "Can't imagine."

“I…”

Matt didn’t say anything, waited and wished to hell someone else was sitting next to Frank just now. Someone who--wouldn’t fuck up and break Frank.

“I’m not a girl. I’ve been fucking head over heels in love with a lesbian since I was goddamned eleven and that didn’t work out cause I’m not a girl. My band is in fucking limbo without a drummer and a lead singer in rehab and…”

“Gerard’s gonna pull it together. You aren’t a bona fide band until at least one member has an addiction and has either gotten busted for dope or hit rehab. You’re not losing My Chem. And you won’t lose Gerard, or Mikey or Ray or me for friends no matter how long it takes to get the band back on the road. And your Jamia…she loves you, not the way you want maybe, but that woman would kill or die for you, saw that just the few minutes last night.”

“Yeah. She’s…she’s my Jamia.” Frank swallowed. “Can’t imagine her not around ya know?”

Matt shook his head. “Not really. Never had anyone like that.”

“Okay who the fuck are you and what did you do with Cortez?” Frank sniffed and swiped at the tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

“Fine, be that way, Awkward Twenty Questions Version Matt.” he snorted. “You ever have sex so bad that you were-- writing your fucking grocery list?”

“Yeah, no, worse…Senior year. Andy Bonatti. My exact thought during was I fucking skipped algebra for this?”

Matt winced. “Oh that’s bad“

“Trust me, it was.” Frank snorted.

They end up hauling four pillow cases stuffed with clothes to Frank's mom's and Frank wearing a five sizes too big t-shirt with a jack-o-lantern on it even if it is July over the tank top.

Linda Iero is tiny and bubbly, and downright scary and Frank is completely her son. Completely. And with one glance, it's very clear if Matt ever does anything to hurt her baby, his body will never be found, not a single teeny tiny piece, they will all be well hidden or fed to wild dogs and fish. Then she starts fussing about dirty laundry and has them at the table within moments of the washing machine being loaded and plates of food heaped in front of them.

"You need to call your grandma, baby, she was fussing the other day."

Frank groaned. He loved his grandma dearly but that was going to be an ordeal. Because he was never going to meet a nice boy and get married and have three kids and a mini van with all his tattoos and silliness with guitars.

"Frank. Anthony." Linda said sharply, and with that, Matt was irrevocably totally in love with Frank's mom. "C'mon, Matt, we'll go find us a movie to watch while Frank's on the phone."

Matt stops and stares at the pictures on the living room wall. The little pixie in her first communion dress, long dark hair and big eyes and a smile that's just FRANKIE. A pretty girl about thirteen or fourteen with long hair, and a girl recognizably a much younger Jamia, the two of them with a dog that was about as big as either of them were. The dark haired chubby cheeked baby in the pink dress and the bow holding up a little 'pebbles flintstone' style lock of hair on top of her head. "She was a cute kid," Matt said. The picture of Frank,and that was Frank, with a slightly forced smile with short hair styled girlyish as it could be with the way it was hacked up and a pretty sweater and little diamond stud earrings in his ears, in what had to be his senior picture. "And he looks really wrong in that sweater--uh."

Linda smiled. "I know what you mean."

Matt swallowed relieved.

"So how did this actually all come out?" Linda winced. "I know my son. He's stubborn and I'd get, it just did mom it's okay but,” she sighed. “I worry about him..."

Matt choked. "Oh god...uhm..." He could feel heat rising up his cheeks. Because he. was. not. telling. Frank's mom. the. truth. "Gerard and Mikey've known a while--I don't know exactly how. Er, Frank was sick and didn't have his brace on and..Mikey noticed or somethin'" Gerard will lose his mind if you kill Mikey for pulling Frank's shirt up. "That was, uh, quite a while back actually but uhm...we, were watching a movie, and uh, Frank said something and Mikey was kinda drunk and said Frank should know and...Frank said Gerard could tell me and Ray."

Linda raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess the movie was from the horrible porn collection Frank was complaining to Jamia about with the drugged out bored women one of the crew had."


"Uhm." Matt swallowed wishing the floor would swallow him. "Uh ask Frank that. Uhm. Brian was told twice, first time he just thought Frank was scared of spiders and the second time was when Frankie was sick and needed a doctor...and uh, Frank, climbs things. Worm's the one who pulls Frank off things he's not supposed to climb, he accidentally noticed and tries to be careful when he's dragging Frank off shi, er, crap, er stuff. Worm's a good guy he'd never uhm.."

Linda started giggling. "Anyone who has to keep Frankie's feet on the ground and him out of things he's not supposed to be in deserves a medal not chastised for what he accidentally put his hands on prying Frankie out of trouble." Linda laughed all the harder at Matt's miserable expression "And dear god the full truth must be pretty interesting."

"Full truth of what?" Frank asked coming into the living room. "Gramma's at the hairdresser's and Grandpa thinks I'm on drugs." Frank said miserably. "Also, he said Gramma wants to know how do I ever expect to find a husband."

"Oh joy." Linda rolled her eyes. "Another rant from dad, don't worry about it, baby."

"And we're to go to dinner tomorrow night. I said I had company from out of town and I didn't want to leave Jamia stuck entertaining him--so I'm to bring the sleaze ball I'm sleeping with since I've forgotten all the good morals I learned in school. So what was funny?"

"How edited Matt's version of your friends being told has to be."

"Oh Christ, Cortez, what the hell did you say."

Matt repeated almost verbatim.

"Yeah, that's good. That works. Just like that ma. So Matt, wanna be the sleezeball that I'm screwing tomorrow night?"

"You brought me home just to use me completely didn't you, Iero. First the no howling whining peeing on furniture or ruining shoes and now this..." Matt teased.

"Well I do have Jamia's permission to keep you and you are totally my bitch. I'll take you down again if you try to run. You know I can do it."

"You knocked my tooth loose you crazy little--"

"Frank Anthony, you knocked his tooth loose?!"

"He wouldn't let me carry my own equipment so I beat the hell outta him til he punched me back and gave me a black eye."

"Mikey's missing curling iron was much more catastrophic than our tussle." Matt offered.

"Hair straighteners. Not curling iron."

"Whatever." Matt rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up." Frank said to Matt, then repeated to his mother. "Jamia said I could keep him."

Linda stared at her son.

"She tried killin us with a baseball bat in the dark when we got in last night, then asked what he was doing there I said he followed me home and asked if I could keep him. She said sure, but if he whines and howls all night she's beating us both."

Linda shook her head. "I'll pass on details of whining and howling all night, sweetie."

"MOM!" Frank yelped.

"Dryer buzzer." Matt said.

Linda laughed as the two went running to take care of the laundry.


~*~

"Uhm...sorry?" Frank murmured late that evening.

"Your mom's kinda evil."

"Yeah," Frank had to admit.

"She's pretty amazing. See where you get a lot of --everything."

Frank smiled. "Tomorrow's going to suck I--"

"Wear your Motorhead tee, the one with the sleeves cut off if your mom won't kill you."

"She won't..."

"It's going to be miserable and horrible. You might as well wear your own damned clothes and not steal Jamia's. I got to put up with your grandpa thinking I'm doing unspeakable things to his darling grandchild, I might as well have the grandchild I'm used to seeing with me." Matt said quietly.

Frank swallowed and nodded uncertainly.

"Your grandma kill you?"

"No, she'll just fuss...at the ink..."

"I got my own ink."

"Not as much. And just mine'll be the fussing--"

"Frank. It'll be okay."

Frank sighed. "At least they know the band thinks I'm a boy--so that I don't get anyone bothering me...."

Matt nodded solemnly.

Frank shrugged. "Hey it--"

"It's okay, Frank."

~*~

Linda picked them up when she got off work to drive to her parents house.

"You look like a boy, Francie!"

"That's kinda the idea, grandma." Frank swallowed.

"Yes, but you have your young man there now. Don't you want to look pretty for him?"

Frank's grandfather snorted.

Matt put his hand on Frank's shoulder to keep him from bolting.

"Mom," Linda Iero sighed.

"Frank looks just fine to me, ma'am." Matt said softly getting a sharp look from Frank's grandfather.

"You were the prettiest little girl..."

"Grandma," Frank whispered.

"Mom, you're embarrassing Frankie in front of Matt." Linda tried.

"And you! Linda, why didn't you call that nice Morris Henderson back? Where is...in my purse. I have his number in case you lost it. Let me get it for you."

"I'd rather dip my vibrator in battery acid," Linda muttered under her breath as her mother wandered out of the living room.

"Ma," Frank hissed.

"Why did I change the batteries in my damn hearing aid today of all days?”

"You're hearing things, dad."

"Yeah. Sure, girl. C'mon, Sleezeball, beer's in the garage. Can't have it in the house, or my cigars."

"Dad, be nice."

"Yeah, and the mouth on you, let alone the one you raised?"

"We get it from you, dad."

"Grandpa, please," Frank whispered.

"Hey, s'okay, Frank. C'mon."

"I can't go to the garage. Grandma--"

"I can't bear to be parted from you." Matt said firmly, clamping Frank under his arm.

"I'm going to beat the living fuck outta you." Frank growled.

"Probably." Matt agreed. "Lead the way, sir."


~*~

"Here, Sleezeball"

Matt took the beer bottle he was handed and twisted off the cap, managing to get all of a swallow before he was asked. "So what do you do for a living, Sleezeball?"

"Grandpa!"

Matt handed the beer to Frank, who muttered. "I don't fucking believe this," and slammed the rest of it down in long gulps.

"Easy, man, your mom and grandma are going to have my ass on a platter if you get wasted."

"I'm getting fucking wasted when we get home."

"Figured that before we even got here."

"Can't do this tonight..." Frank swallowed.

"You can."

"Fuck you, Cortez"

"Time and place, Iero."

"Sleezeball. I'm waiting." Frank's grandfather demanded.

"I'm a tech with Frank's band. Frank's tech actually."

"Gimme," Frank held out his hand.

Matt handed over Frank's cigarettes, which he'd been given to carry, and took the beer bottle back before Frank dropped it. Frank did manage to drop his cigarettes. Matt crouched down and picked them up, and lit one before putting the pack back in his pocket and handing the cigarette to Frank.

"I can't do this. I can't do this tonight. I can't pretend to be her.."

"Dude, don't you fucking fall apart on me now." Matt said worriedly. "Just be Frank."

"You don't fucking get it..."

"No, I don't." Matt agreed. "But I'm tryin'. Your grandma wants to see her baby. Your grandpa is looking for someone to antagonize--he's as bad as you are when your bored and have too much coffee. Damn."

"You sleepin' with my grandbaby, Sleezeball,"

"No sir." Matt answered not bothering to look at the man.

"FRANCES!" came from the other side of the garage door.

Frank winced.

"Dude, that was my grandpa's name so shove it." Matt said quietly. "Let her fuss at her grandbaby, yeah been a bitch of few weeks but just hold on a few hours."

"Sorry" sorry for picking now to try to fucking fall apart, for being a --

"Iero. I will kick your ass because you won't forgive yourself if you get stupid now, then I have to put up with your shit forever. Gee's the one with the breakdown now, gotta wait your turn. And I think Brian's got dibs on the next one and he might have to fight Mikey for that."

"Fucker," Frank muttered. "And I'd like to see you try to kick my ass, I'll wipe the fucking floor with you again."

"Uh huh. Bad ass who had to have an hour of ice to play."

"You weren't any better."

"FRANCES ANTONIA!" his grandmother called impatiently through the garage door.

"G'on, Frank. Come check up or rescue me if ya gotta."

Matt watched Frank go a bit warily.

"So, sleezeball, why aren't you sleepin' with my grandbaby?"

The question was asked with another beer held out. This one Matt took a couple long swallows of and shook his head.

"Frank's my friend," Matt decided was safe enough to say.

"Suppose you're some kind of faggot, huh, sleezeball?"

Matt just laughed and shook his head. The obnoxious spoiling for a fight was so obvious, or maybe it was just because he'd known Frank for so long.

"Frankie --on the road Frankie have a hard time?" the old man finally asked.

Matt stopped and thought about that one. "Easier with My Chem than with any other band he's been in, I think. Handfull of us know and watch his back," Matt said slowly. "Road gets to wear on everyone but--hell, don't know if we help or make things worse sometimes, but no one would deliberately make things worse for Frank."

"That's something, worry about that kid a lot."

Matt nodded.

~*~

Frank adored his grandma. She was the most sincerely sweet woman in the whole world. He was biting holes through his tongue and it was just too much to try to not rock the boat tonight.

"Gramma please stop..." Frank whispered hoarsely looking down at the lasagna on the plate in front of him.

"Leave the kid alone, Lorraine."

~*~*~

Jamia was gone for the weekend to somewhere in Rhode Island for the wedding of her current girlfriend's cousin, or something like that.

Gerard was going to be back the next week, and Brian was working on their drummer issue as well as another tour. Get going again.

Frank answered the phone waiting for Matt to get back with pizza and beer, or some sort of booze.

"Yeah?"

"Frank?"

"Yeah...Brian?"

"Your signature. Anything possibly be shit about it. Just in case."

"My drivers lisence is signed FA Iero. My income tax are signed FA Iero. Hell my school work dating back to like freaking second grade was turned in as FA Iero because I fucking hated my name. Seriously, fucking Frances?" Frank managed.

"Yeah that sucks."

"Spelling issues aside, it's technically unisex just usually e for a girl and i for a boy..." Frank swallowed.

"Yeah. So we're good. I'm double checking the contract with Reprise and I had Susie going through it too. We're shooting a video in two days, Bob Bryar's at least going to fill in temporarily. You guys decided if he works out he's willing to go permanent."

Frank swallowed. "Have Susie triple check, that anything could bite us..." Frank forced the words out.

"Frank?"

"I won't be what costs everyone else--"

"Fuck that. You won't. So do I tell--"

"No... shit. Lawyer/Client privilege and all...shouldn't...shouldn't be an issue, at least won't be one that gets publicized if it is an issue for her, and she'll know what to look for in the contract, but I used my legal signature so.."

"Bryar agreed to Ray's rules..."

"Ray's WHAT?"

"FUcking hell. I --FUCK."

"What Brian?"

"With what Ray gave me as bus rules and everything I thought...I've known Bryar forever and he's not going to say shit and he doesn't give a shit. Fuck Frankie I'm sorry--"

"Wasn't yours to tell, wasn't Ray's--"

"I will never, not without speaking to you directly god, Frank..."

Frank swallowed shaking. "It's --"

"He shrugged and didn't so much as blink. Fuck I woulda triple checked with you and their background, people they'd worked wtih if it was anyone but Bob."

"Dont. Ever. Ever. Again."

"I won't, Frank, I swear." Brian said softly, sounding as upset as he could possibly be. "Please don't break Ray's hands when you kill him, and no facial bruising until after the video's shot."

"I won't," Frank snarled and slammed down the phone. He was dialing Ray's number a heart beat later.

~*~

"What the fuck happned, Frank?" Matt whispered crouching down in front of Frank. "Damn man you fucked up your hand and Jamia's gonna kill us for the wall..." Frank's apparent punching of the wall left a few smears of blood from the split skin of his knuckles and the picture of flowers was on the floor with the glass in it's frame broken.

"Bob Bryar's gonna drum--"

"Okay."

"Wires-crossed fuck up. Brian told him...I--"

Matt just nodded.

"Ray--fucking Toro...he didn't, fuck, Ray's I think I made Ray cry on the phone. Him and Mikey were coming up with shit. Make things easier on everyone on tour. Keep Mikey busy--he was telling Brian...wires got crossed. Brian told Bryar."

Matt nodded again. "Bryar gonna be a dick?"

"No. Brian says he's cool just shrugged...he's gotta be...fucking insane. A junkie and a tranny freak, and Mikey and Ray, wanna be their drummer--"

Matt grabbed Frank by the t-shrit and shook him. "Don't you EVER fucking say that again, Iero or I will beat the fuckin' shit out of you." Matt snarled. "You are not a fucking trannyfreak--"

When Frank started to protest Matt's hand slapped over his mouth Frank bit and tried to kick him before Matt could get a word out. Frank really didn't care how much hell they were going to get for the busted lamp. The wrestling match ended several furious punches and a bloodied nose later, Matt having Frank pinned down.

"You're not a freak, Iero." Matt snarled. "Fucking lunatic on stage and one of the bravest men I know so fucking knock it off. I'm not going to let you sit here and talk shit about yourself."

"You don't have a fucking clue--"

"No. I don't. But I'm right here. I've been here. You coulda bullshitted out of Mikey's comment. Fuck, he says the strangest shit anyway it's weird if you're not doing a double take when he decides to blurt shit out of the blue. And usually it's about ice cream or unicorns or some fucked shit so who the hell listens to Mikey? Think the little fuckhead does it on purpose. No, I don't know. But I'm here, and watching you get kicked in the nuts by the world at large or tear yourself to shreds isn't a picnic either. I fucking hate it." Matt said quietly.

"I'm sorry." Frankie whispered.

"Don't." Matt shook his head moving off Frank and pulling the smaller man into his lap. "Don't."

"You sick of my nervous breakdown yet?"

"Goddamn it, I will beat you, I swear it." Matt growled tightening his arms around Frank. He'd gotten in a couple good elbows but mostly the tussle had just been containing Frank from his end of it. "You're allowed. Everything caught up along with all the band shit and telling your grandparents--even if your grandpa pretty much figured it out before."

He hadn't even bothered with trying to find somewhere else. Brian insisted he's still got a job, even if several of the other techs have gone on and picked up what work they could and might or might not be available when My Chem hits the road again. He'd seen the crack that first day, before they'd gone to Frank's mom's to do laundry. He kinda would have to have been blind and fucking stupid not to have caught on to that. He had done what he could to pitch in, Frank's grandpa had managed to find him some odd jobs, day or two here and there, mowed lawns and painted garages and shit like that for people the man knew. He and Frank had picked up a couple nights of fill in work here and there with people Frank knew from Pencey and before. A couple nights playing. Another few working the door at a bar because the door guy had been in a car accident and the bar owner desperate need of someone to cover.

He turned a chunk of his small earnings to Jamia, because he knew Frank would probably punch him and tell him no, and he'd bought his share of groceries while he was there. Holding Frank wasn't quite as strange as it should be, he'd had his share of holding up and following Gerard around just like the rest of them Hell they'd been sharing a bed, it was that or one of them on the floor. That argument had lasted five minutes, Matt cut it short and told Frank to move his ass over if they were going to share. Frank wasn't putting a guest on the floor. Matt wasn't letting Frank sleep on the fucking floor in his home where he could finally just relax. Still just holding Frank was a bit strange, mostly because it killed him to have Frank shaking apart like this and just fucking helpless to do a damn thing.

"Sorry," Frank whispered again.

"For what?" Matt swallowed. “You don't have anything to be sorry for, Frank.”

Frank didn't look up and fought not to shake apart.

“What'd Brian have to say otherwise? Bryar's gonna drum..”

“Shooting a video next week. And hitting the road again real soon.” Frank swallowed.

“That's good.” Matt said softly. “Get out there and play again.”

Frank nodded. “Yeah, yeah.” he whispered weakly.

“You need longer?” Matt swallowed, afraid he was going to set Frank off worse. “I'll talk to em--”

“Don't need longer and don't need you to fuckin--”

“No you don't need me to talk for ya,” Matt agreed. “But I would.”

Frank nodded against Matt's shoulder. “I know.”


~*~

They had all of two days to rehearse, for Bryar to, theoretically, learn their music, even if he knew it well, playing it through was different.

“Fucking asshole,” Frank snarled at Ray, still furious but relented enough to hug Ray, as well as Mikey and Gerard.

Ray nearly cracked Frank's ribs he hugged back so hard.

And that was it. Frank has never been one to dwell on anything he didn't have to. He could and would hold a grudge until the end of fucking time if it was something that deserved it. If it was something deliberate and asshole and cruel and vicious, Frank could pay it back in tenfold and never forgive or forget. This wasn't anything but a fuckup of crossed-wires and stress of terrifying proportions. It wasn't asshole, wasn't meant to hurt even if it had felt like a massive fucking betrayal.

He couldn't punish or hate them for fucking trying to help him, for trying to make things easier. He could fuck them all so much worse, ruin all their careers with just fucking existing, being what he was, and that wasn't what they considered at all. No, they didn't worry about the shit that could come down if Frank was 'outed' or whatever the fuck anyone wanted to call it, they worried about Frank. Just like Frank and the rest had worried about Gerard. Not what Gerard's problems were going to do to the band, but Gerard. Pelissier they worried how badly he was going to fuck everything up for everyone and Pelissier was gone. Frank thought maybe they were a little to blame too-but it wasn't anyone hated Matt Pelissier or anything, well maybe kinda a little at the end when shit got so strained, it was mostly he didn't fit with them.

Gerard wrapped his arm around Frank's shoulders and they headed into the space rented for them to practice.