Disclaimer:

No I don't own My Chemical Romance, Bob Bryar or Frank Iero, I'm just really sad Bob left and in a writing mood

Note: We will miss Bob Bryar and all the amazing drumming skills he brought to My Chemical Romance.

"Bob!"

I could feel Franks hand clutching the back of my sweatshirt. You'd think, since he was so little, I'd be able to just wrench out of his grasp and keep walking, but he's strong. And I didn't want to leave.

"Please? You don't have to go, you can stay!"

"No Frankie, I can't. It's time for me to leave," I nearly choked on the last word, the truth finally sinking in. I was leaving. No more drumming, no more music, no more My Chemical Romance, no more Frank.

"I don't care if you can't fucking drum for us you idiotic bastard! You can still stay here, with me!"

I glared down at my wrist. Stupid, stupid wrist. I couldn't drum anymore. I'd never, ever, drum again because I'd been an idiot and gone ahead and played when the doctor had told me no. I hadn't listened. Now I was paying the price.

It would be too easy to just stay, for Frank. My Frank. But it would never work. They were going back on tour. New album out, time to hit the road.

I had been okay with Frank even after I had to quit the band. I loved him, he loved me, the only thing that had really changed was we no longer worked together. As long as I didn't think about where he was going when he kissed my cheek and said he'd be back after work, I wasn't too sad. It was like vacation, and I always had my boyfriend. But tour would be different.

I'd have to see what I was missing everyday. I'd have to hear songs I should be playing, but couldn't, every night. I loved Frank more than anything, but I knew myself. And I'd get depressed if I went on tour, and a depressed Bob is a mean, vicious, violent Bob. In the end we'd break up anyway. It was better to do it now. "Frank you're not staying here. And you know why I can't go on tour, just to watch you guys be amazing."

"Fine, fine, just wait for me then? Or we can do it long distance! Or… or…" He knew none of that would work. Long distance relationships never worked. " I- I'll quit! I'll quit the band too! I'll stay here with you, yeah?"

I turned around to meet desperate, melting brown, puppy dog eyes. So I did the only logical thing to do when faced with that look. I kissed him hard on the mouth and enveloped him in one of my famous big-bear-Bob hugs. "I love you Frank, you know that. And you know that's why I'd never let you quit the band."

He snuffled into my shirt. "Please?" he whimpered, cuddling into the hug.

They were leaving in the morning. He'd be gone, my dreams would be gone. I'd have to find new ones. But not that night. "One more night," he mumbled. "You, me, ice cream, horror movies, and snuggling. Lots of snuggling."

"One more night," I agreed.