(BertxGerard Slight Frerard and Quert). Bert is sick of being the bad guy when it's Gerard who should be blamed.
He had always told himself that he didn't care what people thought of him and on the shallow front, he didn't. But deep inside somewhere, he worried why some people seemed to hate him for no reason. He didn't know what he had done to deserve the instant dislike from people like Gerard's fans. So he googled Gerard Way and Bert McCracken and he clicked on the first link that came up. It was a YouTube video, some childish, fan-made slash thing as Bert saw.
He frowned and watched as it opened with a clip of a Gerard at a concert. Bert watched as he strode across the stage, shaking his ass as usual. Bert swallowed as Gerard drew his pale hand up Frank's tanned arm and kissed his open mouth. He scrolled down the screen immediately and read the comments instead. They didn't help.
OhmyGod, Frank and Gee belong torgrther!! I wish Bert would just leve them alone so they could be torgether!
I luv the pic at 2:20, u can see the love in Gerard's eyes when he looks at Frankie! they would be such a perfect couple!!!
Bert could deal with the twelve-year olds writing the cruel, childish, comments. It wasn't like they had any way to explain why Frank would be so much better for Gerard, other than the fact that they thought he was hotter than Bert. It was the more intelligent comments that rattled him. One of the highest rated was an explanation on just why Frank and Gerard belonged together. It was the fact that it was coherent and had no spelling mistakes or over enthusiastic use of exclamation marks that Bert found himself focusing on it.
Wow, Frank and Gerard just belong together. I wish Gerard would just give up the drugs his junkie boyfriend got him hooked on and realise how happy he and Frank would be together. It's so obvious when they're on stage and in interviews that Frank adores Gerard. I hope McCrackhead gets hit by a bus so Gerard can finally be free of him.
Oh. So that was why Gerard's fans hated him so much. They thought he was the one to get Gerard addicted to drugs. They either didn't know or didn't care that Gerard was on drugs before he ever met Bert and Bert was the one to clean him up and take of him every night when the tremors came and Gerard would sweat and cry in pain. Bert knew it, but still...still everyone thought that Frank would be better. Frank wasn't the one who put him back in bed and forgave Gerard for trying to drag his boyfriend's jeans off and spread his legs when he was high.
Bert shut down the laptop, got drunk and went to bed. Gerard didn't come home that night.
The next morning was like a punch in the gut. Bert knew, he had always known, really, but to have it thrown in his face was shocking somehow and it burned and ached somewhere deep inside. He could always see it. But did that ever stop him from hoping, from being over-confident? Of course not. The ego ran away with him as always. As well as being burned, his pride was shattered.
Bert's ego was a fragile, delicate thing. It needed constant protection and care. Bert had thought Gerard realised that. Maybe he was too selfish to realise that Gerard didn't want to have to constantly watch what he said just so he could refrain from injuring Bert's unstable pride. Bert felt like he had been too stupid to realise that.
Maybe Gerard needed someone who wasn't going to fall apart because he said something wrong. Maybe Gerard wasn't strong enough to carry both of them.
At the last thought Bert felt a hot bubble of anger burst in his chest. Gerard was fine with Bert picking him up from clubs and cleaning up his puke or putting him to bed when he had drank himself into a stupor.
He had no problem with Bert taking care of him and talking him down and reminding him he wasn't useless, but Gerard couldn't do the same for Bert? A few thought out words and Bert would be fine again, just repair the delicate self-confidence that Gerard was the one to tear down in the first place. Apparently that was too much to ask, to soothe the damage that Gerard's thoughtless words and actions caused.
Bert was sick of it. He was done with it all, fuck it. Gerard could go and tear down Frank's pride; he was obviously finished with Bert. Bert eased himself into the deep couch in the sitting room, and wrapped his arms around his own waist. Crackly red leaves fell from the young tree outside the window. There was never any real point in being with Gerard when Frank was the one he would always love more. But Bert couldn't help it, never could. He would always run to Gerard, was constantly terrified of losing him when he had never really had the older man at all.
Bert could have hated Frank for just being there and taking Gerard so easily without any effort. He could have hated Gerard for staying with him when he never really loved him anyway. He didn't really have the energy to hate anyone but himself anymore. The anger, rejection and the shame curled inside his stomach like a hot, prickling bubble of self-disgust.
He was horrified by his actions in the past months, shocked at what he had put up with for all the time.
He had let Gerard take and take from him and use his body and make him beg the other not to leave. Bert scratched his sharp nails against his bare calf and he stood. He didn't deserve this. He kicked the couch and pulled back the door, running down the black tiled hall to their bedroom and he took a ragged breath, standing in front of his wardrobe. He stretched up and tried to grab his gym bag from on top of it. Frustrated by the fact that he couldn't reach it and Gerard could come home at any minute Bert pulled his phone from his pocket and flipped it up, hitting one on speed dial.
He shook his head and grinned, putting the phone to his ear. He didn't deserve, this. He wasn't who the fans thought he was and he had never done anything bad enough to warrant being hit by a bus. "It's me. Can you come over? I want your help."
There was a dial tone and Bert folded his phone back into his pocket, making one more attempt to leap at the wardrobe and grab his bag, but failing miserably. When Quinn wandered into the bedroom, Bert was laughing at himself and trying to clamber up onto the windowsill. Quinn shook his head fondly and grabbed the bag, dropping it on the floor and watching in interest as Bert began piling his clothes into it. "You know I didn't call you over to watch me," Bert mumbled, moving away from the wardrobe and sorting through a mess of books and CDs on the shelf, throwing random objects into the overflowing bag.
"What are you doing? We don't tour for ages," Quinn said curiously before frowning a little. "We don't tour for ages, right?"
Bert nodded, face flushed, dropping to his knee and rifling through a drawer in the bedside locker. He half-chuckled, tossing his possessions around the bag. Quinn got another bag and piled the rest of Bert's stuff into it.
"Can I stay with you for a while?" Bert asked instead. Quinn nodded, zipping up the first bag. "Yeah, sure. Gerard touring?"
Bert shook his head and said brightly, "I'm leaving him."
Quinn dropped a plastic snow globe. "You're what?"
"Yuhuh," Bert agreed. "I'm leaving him. I'm packing and I'm gonna stay with you until I find my own apartment and I'm gonna fuck a lot of people and write a lot and cook more and learn how to dance."
Quinn stared, dazed. "You're what?" He repeated and Bert chuckled at him, throwing a hair brush into the bag. "I told you. Can you take my bags down and I'll wait here to tell Gerard?"
Quinn nodded, hugging a bag tight to his chest. "You're really leaving him?"
Bert nodded, a little more seriously this time. "There's no point in me being here when he doesn't want me."
Quinn's plump mouth formed a little 'o' of understanding. "You're gonna learn how to dance?"
Bert giggled and shrugged. "I don't know. Probably. The point it I'm going to leave this place and I'm going to stop relying on Gerard for happiness. I can do it on my own."
Quinn picked up both bags and tossed one over his shoulder, hugging the other. "Cool," he nodded. "You know I'll be here then. And stuff."
Bert grinned, face flushed. "Sure. Thanks man."
Quinn nodded, looking calm and matter-of-fact. "I know you don't want a relationship but if you ever do, I'll be here."
Bert glanced up. "You what?" He questioned and Quinn grinned, opening the door. "I'm just saying. I know you need time for yourself now, but if you ever get tired of being alone, I'll be ready."
Bert felt a little bit giddy and a slow smile spread across his flushed face. "Thank you. For everything, man."
The end of spring is a sad time for some. The official end of the last dregs of summer. Bert had always preferred autumn anyway. It was a better time for change, when everything turned from a falsely happy green into bright gold and passionate reds. It was the best time of the year to change a life.