FicWad

Gerard smuggled the bottle back to his room so Pen wouldn’t see; this was to keep to himself. He uncorked the bottle as soon as his door was closed and tossed back a fourth of the bottle in one chug. He collapsed on the bed and relished in the bitter, yet so-welcome, taste of vodka on his tongue. He sighed and took another sip, and another, and another. What was the alcohol content of vodka, 40%? Oh well, some shit that Mikey had made him read. Gerard didn’t care about any of that now, he just knew that he had a wonderful bottle of happiness in his palm, and he didn’t plan on giving it up.

Pretty soon, the bottle was empty and Gerard could barely move, he was so saturated with alcohol. His head was spinning, as was the room he was in, and all he could think about was how he had ruined Pen’s life. The drugs, the booze, the sleeping around with complete strangers, it was all his fault. Tears leaked down his cheeks as he thought about his negative impact on the life of someone that he did really care about. Oh Pen, what if she did become sober? She’d realize why it was that she had gotten addicted in the first place, and even if she said she forgave him, she’d harbor a grudge against Gerard for the rest of her life.

Sniffing, Gerard got up. He couldn’t stand it, he just couldn’t. Perhaps if he was gone, if he took away the initial source of the problem, everything would go back to normal. If he took himself out of the picture, Pen would never have done any of those bad things. His drunken mind acknowledged this logic and told him that it was the only way to make up for it, the only way to fix this girl’s life.

Gerard found a razor somewhere in the bathroom, running the pad of his thumb lightly over the edge. His hands twitched (a combination of alcohol and withdrawal), and small beads of blood appeared on his finger. He sucked it for a moment, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He made his way back to his room, sitting on his bed as he gave himself one last chance to back out. Gulping, he brought the blade to the edge of his wrist, ready to drag it across and watch the crimson blood seep out and coat his hands, and possibly the bed sheets if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t want anyone else to have to clean up after him…

“Hey, Gee, I’m sorry I snapped at you--” Pen stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway of his room. She was stock still, even her hands were frozen at her sides. Gerard looked up at her, his jaw slack and hand shaking with the effort of holding the blade poised above his flesh. “Mikey,” Pen whispered, not wanting to startle Gerard. Fuck it. “Mikey! MIKEY! MIKEY!” She screamed as loud as her voice could handle, hoping that Mikey was on the bus. She didn’t know where everyone had went, but hopefully someone who could help was still on the bus. “Mikey! Bob! Ray! Bob! Bob! Bob!”

Finally, Ray and Mikey came out of hiding, running to Pen, acknowledging the urgency in her voice. She shakily pointed a finger to Gerard on the bed with the razor, before passing out and collapsing against Ray.

“Gerard!” Mikey yelled, not wasting a moment in running into the room to wrench the weapon out of his brother’s hands. He chucked it out the open window, grabbing his brother in a tight embrace.

“Mikey!” Gerard wailed. “I’m--so--sorry! I ruined--I ruined Pen’s life! It’s all my fault! My fault! I’m so sorry! Tell her I’m sorry!” He sobbed into his younger brother’s shoulder, Mikey rubbing his back soothingly and casting a helpless look at Ray, who was still holding an unconscious Pen.

“What’s going on?” Bob and Frank had heard the ruckus from a few feet away from the bus, walking on with armfuls of groceries and setting them down.

“Gerard just got drunk and…he--he tried to…he tried to kill himself,” Ray said quietly. Bob and Frank (forgetting to be cross for a moment) both gaped. Frank tried to run into his friend’s bedroom, but was deterred by Ray. “Mikey’s handling it,” he told the smaller man, whose wide eyes took in the scene. Gerard was crying uncontrollably and Mikey looked just as close to tears. He then spotted the bottle laying on the ground beside the bed and gasped.

“That…that bottle…I…” Frank could barely breathe. Gerard had found his stash and gotten drunk, which led to…”It’s my fault,” Frank whispered to Ray, who was still holding him back. He was past crying; Frank never cried. However, his eyes were wide as plates, and his chest was in a vise-grip.

“No, Frank,” Ray told him reassuringly. “You could never have--”

“No!” Frank yelled, struggling once more to get free, but not to go to Gerard this time, to get away. He didn’t want to look at Gerard, to see the face that had been so close to watching a cold, hard blade get dragged across his wrists, because of him. “It’s my fucking fault! That was my fucking bottle! Mine! It was in my room! It’s my fault! Let me go! Let me go, Ray!” He struggled, but Ray was bigger and stronger, and held fast.

“Frank, calm down,” he muttered. “You’re going to freak out Gerard even more. Please, calm down,” His arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller man.

“I’m so sorry! Gerard, please forgive me!” Frank seemed inconsolable, and Ray dragged him back to his own room to get him away from Gerard. He sat him on the bed and sat down next to him.

“Frank, please. It’s really not your fault. You could have never known that he would do that--”

“I should have known! He told me how hard it would be for him, and I didn’t even care! My best friend!”

“No! Frank, it’s not your fault. If he hadn’t been able to get it from you, he would have gotten it somewhere else! Don’t blame yourself! You love Gerard and you’d never do anything to intentionally hurt him!”

“My fault! My fucking fault!” He wasn’t listening to Ray, Frank was just so consumed with the guilt that he felt he deserved for driving his friend to attempt suicide.

“Frank!” Ray finally yelled, shaking his friend. Frank shut up, at least for the moment. “Please! Calm down! You can’t blame yourself, and you can’t get hung up about it. We have a show to play tonight, and you can’t be preoccupied for this one. People are going to be there, important people, like people who can sign us, y’know? We have to play our absolute best, no matter what happened. So please, forgive yourself. I’m sure Gerard never blamed you in first place, and if he did, he would forgive you, right? He’s your best friend?”

Frank nodded, sniffing. He had finally succumbed to tears, but was wiping them away quickly while Ray pretended not to notice.

“Then do him, us, and yourself a favor and forgive yourself too. Please?”

Frank nodded once more, wiping his eyes a last time and taking a few deep breaths. “You’re right,” he finally murmured, and that was all he would say. After sitting with him for a few more minutes, Ray got up and left to check on Gerard, and to see if Pen had woken up on the couch where he had set her.

And Frank sat on his bed for a moment before lifting up his mattress, grabbing his stash of coke, and flushing it down the toilet.