Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > One For Sorrow
Gerard has a funny relationship with alcohol. On the whole he doesn’t drink it, it clouds his mind and makes him do things he wouldn’t normally, so Gerard doesn’t even think about drinking it, he’s in a better place in his life now, there is no need to think about it. Gerard can go, days, weeks and even months without touching the stuff, he is perfectly content with being sober and being alive and here and all of that other shit. But then, but then
It could be a bad day at work, an argument with Mikey, hell it could be stepping on a lady bug on his way home, it doesn’t fucking matter though because whatever it is, who ever it may be it always leads Gerard back to square one. The bottle.
Tonight is one of those nights, Gerard is intoxicated, smashed, paralytic and there is no going back now. He lies on the half collapsed deckchair looking out over the balcony at his town, the stars seem to laugh at him, twinkling in a way that would usually stimulate some kind of creative thought proses. Tonight though, tonight the stars piss him off, all silver and dancing above his head like they have the right to freedom.
There had been an incident at work, an incident at work that Gerard could hardly remember in his state of being, an incident at work that had caused Ryan to quit. Gerard had been typical Gerard all shuffling and glaring at the customers and being a general nuisance like he always is when he hasn’t had a full night of sleep. Ryan had gotten in his way on his third visit, that morning, to the staff kitchen, holding another very steamy, very boiling and very staining mug of coffee. Gerard’s shirt had been ruined, they had lost potential customers and Ryan had gotten an ear full of snappy you-shouldn’t-have-fucked-with-me-Gerard. If it had been Bob at the hand of Gerard’s relentless word vomit the day might not have been such a drag but Ryan was apparently a sensitive little flower and well that was probably the last of the Ross kid Gerard would be seeing for a while.
His mood had only gotten worse through the day and by the time Gerard had reached his flat a drink was desperately needed and wrapped in a brown paper bag, in his hand.
Gerard had an okay apartment, it was on the wrong side of Newark to be considered nice and when he had told his mom just where he was moving she had demurred worriedly for a few days before Gerard could convince her it was a good decision. But the apartment block was new, had been cheep and looked over the glassy mirror of one of Belleville’s lakes. This had been the main selling point for Gerard because, sure the lake got searched every couple months for dead bodies and yes several had been found there in Gerard’s lifetime alone. But the lake was a point of beauty, especially at night when the rubbish and the needles and the hobos and the general Jersey are all tucked into the black cloth of the dark and all that is left is the beautiful silver ink smothering at least half a block of land.
The lake normally inspires Gerard, he writes stories about monsters and ghosts haunting the black abase and paints and sketches it day and night. But tonight, having turned his face away from the falling stars, Gerard is simply looking glumly at it, as if the murky water alone would be enough to change his life. It’s windy so small ripples ricochet through the pool and Gerard watches them, the steady movement sending him into a lull of almost sleep. He knows somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn’t pass out outside but right now, the knowledge seems wasted on him, he doesn’t care if he wakes up tomorrow with pneumonia he doesn’t care if tomorrow he doesn’t wake up at all.
He would rather stay in this lucid state, not quite dreaming but close enough. The cold air is still present pinching at his pink cheeks like his Aunt Mari used to do when he was a kid with a bowl cut at the crowded family get-togethers. Gerard doesn’t miss all those family parties, he hasn’t been to one since he moved out and he doesn’t plan on attending any soon.
The last time he saw all his family together, not all of them had been there. It was Eleanor’s funeral. It was the last time Gerard had properly cried, or at least sober and it had been a day so wrong that it still makes Gerard want to punch things when he thinks about it.
He had stood, holding his mother’s hand in the church, all in black, all silent spare the vicar, at the pulpit, regurgitating the lines Gerard had heard, only before in films. His mother had cried delicately, still staying strong for her boys, his father was on the other side next to Mikey, his face stiff. Gerard had hoped it would rain, he still remembers praying for the black clouds to open up and cry for him, so maybe he wouldn’t have to. But it didn’t rain, didn’t even drizzle it was near summer so the most Gerard got was a light wind and fluffy white sheep gracing the sky. Gerard hates the memory.
A few minutes, or maybe a few hours pass before Gerard decides he has had enough of the lake and the cold and the taunting stars and he makes his way back into the flat, not locking the door behind him. He crashes on the couch fully clothed and flicks on the shopping channel, not watching just listening to the voices, just knowing that he isn’t alone.
-
The next few days fly past in a haze of almost time and colours, Gerard doesn’t go to work or to visit Mrs Harte nor does he call his brother he simply stays inside his apartment and drinks. It doesn’t matter what he’s drinking; only how much he’s drinking, a lot. He doesn’t wash or eat much and by the fifth day, when Mikey comes for him, Gerard is living in disarray.
At some point he spilt most of his paints, staining the floors of his apartment with murky, mixed colours most closely described as brown. The food in his fridge has gone off and more food is leaking onto the carpets and the tiles and sofa. The place stinks but Gerard is worse.
Mikey leaves Frank in the car to come get Gerard, it doesn’t take long for him to realise that he was right about what Gerard had been doing. Over the past five days Mikey has received calls from both Bob and the woman from down the road all worried and confused and asking for Mikey to ‘just go check up on him.’ Mikey hadn’t wanted to, he had wanted to believe that Gerard was fine now, he had been straight for months, Mikey wanted to believe that Gerard was past all this. But when five days had passed and ten phone calls had gone unanswered along with countless worried texts Mikey had decided to come over.
The apartment is a mess matching Gerard, who lies drunk against the wall a distant look in his green eyes. Mikey sighs and moves over to his brother who moans slightly, a small whimper against the things only he can see. There’s sick on his chin and more in a pool beside him, more liquid than anything else.
“C’mon Gee, c’mon” Mikey mutters, brushing away some of Gerard’s hair “What have you done to yourself?”
Gerard grumbles something in response, shifting away slightly from the sound of Mikey’s voice. Mikey sighs sadly and shifts an arm around Gerard’s back and under his arm pit, Gerard huffs slightly but doesn’t make much more of a fuss. It’s a bit of effort but eventually Mikey manages to haul Gerard up to standing where Gerard promptly throws up.
“Jesus Christ” Mikey swears because that shit is on his shoes. But he doesn’t let it put him off as he practically drags his brother’s weight out of the apartment. “C’mon, you”
-
Gerard wakes up in a clean bed, the white sheets and soft pillows tell him instantly that it isn’t his bed. He rolls carefully, trying to avoid the headache leaning in at the back of his skull, and crushes his eyes shut as he tries to remember how he got here.
He’s pretty sure he’s at Mikey’s house if the Ikea art and cream walls tell him anything but he’s not exactly sure why he’s at Mikey’s house. The most he can remember is Ryan crashing into him at work then a lot of shouting, mostly his shouting. This memory does little to help him understand why he’s at Mikey’s but he guesses that Mikey will simply tell him later.
Looking through the blinds, Gerard can see the sun high in the sky, it must be around midday, which means, most likely, Mikey and Alicia are at work, Rowan at her Grandma’s. He wants to sleep but he can’t quite relax, Gerard has never been able to sleep through the day but he’s never been at Mikey’s alone before so he’s not really sure what he can do instead. It seems like a good idea to find some aspirin and coffee though, before he decides.
He sits and ignores, as best he can, the throb at the back of his head threatening to slip further into his brain if he’s not careful. He stays sat for a moment taking in shallow breaths and just keeping still and Gerard’s just about ready to move when there’s a light tap on the door and I head sticking round the white wood.
“You’re awake,” Frank says with a soft smile, he looks awkward, a little flustered.
Gerard gives a weak grin before saying, “Wish I wasn’t, Jesus Christ”
Frank laughs a little, moving more inside but still lingering by the door as if Gerard is not safe for him to be around. Gerard stares a little then, taking in Frank’s features through fuzzy sleep filled eyes.
“You cut your hair”
Frank runs a hand over his buzzed head a little self consciously, Gerard thinks, and grins meekly “Yeah, it was getting to be a pain, like on stage and stuff I couldn’t see” he giggles
Frank looks older now, Gerard notices, now that all the small curls of dark hair have been wiped from Frank’s scalp, the lines of his jaw are more visible, harder he looks less feminine and like, like a man, Gerard thinks.
“It looks good” Gerard nods and he can see, visibly Frank relaxing
“So uh, your brother said today that I’m on babysitting duty, so… do… you want…anything?” The sentence breaks up at the end as Frank mumbles to the ground
“Dude you can not babysit someone ten years older than you” Gerard laughs
Frank’s head shoots up “What?”
“Nothing, nothing” Gerard laughs “I was just gonna get some coffee and fifty aspirins”
Frank nods a couple of times “Stay there, I’ll get it”
In Gerard’s eyes Frank could not be any more perfect.
-
Gerard is curled up on the bed, mirroring Frank and sipping on coffee like he has been for the past hour, his eyes are heavy and his body is really fucking relaxed, it feels good, just being here like this. Frank’s hand traces patterns across the sheets and he’s smiling a little at something Gerard has said. Gerard wants to stay like this forever just sitting in Frank’s aura.
“So do you live with Mikey now?” Gerard asks, hoping the question isn’t too personal
“Yeah I lost my apartment and I didn’t want to live with my mom again and Mikey’s cool so” Frank finishes with a little flourish of his hands “But you’re Mikey’s brother, that’s really cool”
Gerard doesn’t really know how this is cool but he nods anyway moving to put his cup on the floor, he then shifts his weight so that his face is closer to Franks. Frank smiles a little more and his hands brush Gerard’s, it’s brief enough for it to have been an accident but it’s enough for Gerard’s mind to start wondering. He chews on his lip and looks down to where their knees are turned towards each other the heat of Frank’s body radiating onto Gerard’s. This is what he needs, he thinks, this is right.
“Wanna watch a movie?” Frank asks after a moment and Gerard is close enough to feel breath on his face, hot and there
He nods a little and doesn’t pout when Frank moves away slightly to grab the remote. There’s a TV in the corner like the one in Gerard’s living room except with all the movie channels and a remote that actually works properly. Frank channel floats for a while skipping over chick flicks and comedies until he comes to In Bruges and stops with a grin. He relaxes back onto the bed and rests his head by Gerard’s shoulder, not looking away from the screen.
Their knees still reflect one another and Gerard just feels warm and nice, like there’s electricity in his veins but not enough to hurt or bother him. He wonders what it would feel like if Frank actually touched him, moved the few inches separating them and kissed Gerard. He feels as though he might explode, if Frank was to do that, so for now he’s okay with just sitting.
“Just to let you know” Frank says, “I will cry”
Gerard lets out an awkward giggle and Frank rests his head on Gerard’s shoulder, smiling and warm.
-
They both cry, unattractive and blubbering with runny noses and soggy eyes by this point Frank’s knees are tucked into Gerard and his hands are on Gerard’s lap. They both laugh at themselves and then Frank lets out this small shaky sigh and Gerard squeezes his hand and they just look at each other close and definite.
And this is it, Gerard thinks in a sort of spluttering realisation because Frank is so close now and pretty and all glass eyed and hopeful. Gerard brushes a finger over Frank’s knuckles and Frank tilts his head just a little bit so that Gerard can see his parted lips and glistening cheeks and he wants, he wants.
But then Frank just looks away and back to the screen, his head returning to Gerard’s shoulder and his legs tucking up more and he says “This is my favourite part”
And just like that, the moment is gone.
A/N Three is the magic number. Also I'm thinking of changing the day to Monday cause I seem to be normally done by then, but we'll see! Also watch out for my new Frerard oneshot, it will be posted either tonight or toomrow!
It could be a bad day at work, an argument with Mikey, hell it could be stepping on a lady bug on his way home, it doesn’t fucking matter though because whatever it is, who ever it may be it always leads Gerard back to square one. The bottle.
Tonight is one of those nights, Gerard is intoxicated, smashed, paralytic and there is no going back now. He lies on the half collapsed deckchair looking out over the balcony at his town, the stars seem to laugh at him, twinkling in a way that would usually stimulate some kind of creative thought proses. Tonight though, tonight the stars piss him off, all silver and dancing above his head like they have the right to freedom.
There had been an incident at work, an incident at work that Gerard could hardly remember in his state of being, an incident at work that had caused Ryan to quit. Gerard had been typical Gerard all shuffling and glaring at the customers and being a general nuisance like he always is when he hasn’t had a full night of sleep. Ryan had gotten in his way on his third visit, that morning, to the staff kitchen, holding another very steamy, very boiling and very staining mug of coffee. Gerard’s shirt had been ruined, they had lost potential customers and Ryan had gotten an ear full of snappy you-shouldn’t-have-fucked-with-me-Gerard. If it had been Bob at the hand of Gerard’s relentless word vomit the day might not have been such a drag but Ryan was apparently a sensitive little flower and well that was probably the last of the Ross kid Gerard would be seeing for a while.
His mood had only gotten worse through the day and by the time Gerard had reached his flat a drink was desperately needed and wrapped in a brown paper bag, in his hand.
Gerard had an okay apartment, it was on the wrong side of Newark to be considered nice and when he had told his mom just where he was moving she had demurred worriedly for a few days before Gerard could convince her it was a good decision. But the apartment block was new, had been cheep and looked over the glassy mirror of one of Belleville’s lakes. This had been the main selling point for Gerard because, sure the lake got searched every couple months for dead bodies and yes several had been found there in Gerard’s lifetime alone. But the lake was a point of beauty, especially at night when the rubbish and the needles and the hobos and the general Jersey are all tucked into the black cloth of the dark and all that is left is the beautiful silver ink smothering at least half a block of land.
The lake normally inspires Gerard, he writes stories about monsters and ghosts haunting the black abase and paints and sketches it day and night. But tonight, having turned his face away from the falling stars, Gerard is simply looking glumly at it, as if the murky water alone would be enough to change his life. It’s windy so small ripples ricochet through the pool and Gerard watches them, the steady movement sending him into a lull of almost sleep. He knows somewhere in the back of his mind that he shouldn’t pass out outside but right now, the knowledge seems wasted on him, he doesn’t care if he wakes up tomorrow with pneumonia he doesn’t care if tomorrow he doesn’t wake up at all.
He would rather stay in this lucid state, not quite dreaming but close enough. The cold air is still present pinching at his pink cheeks like his Aunt Mari used to do when he was a kid with a bowl cut at the crowded family get-togethers. Gerard doesn’t miss all those family parties, he hasn’t been to one since he moved out and he doesn’t plan on attending any soon.
The last time he saw all his family together, not all of them had been there. It was Eleanor’s funeral. It was the last time Gerard had properly cried, or at least sober and it had been a day so wrong that it still makes Gerard want to punch things when he thinks about it.
He had stood, holding his mother’s hand in the church, all in black, all silent spare the vicar, at the pulpit, regurgitating the lines Gerard had heard, only before in films. His mother had cried delicately, still staying strong for her boys, his father was on the other side next to Mikey, his face stiff. Gerard had hoped it would rain, he still remembers praying for the black clouds to open up and cry for him, so maybe he wouldn’t have to. But it didn’t rain, didn’t even drizzle it was near summer so the most Gerard got was a light wind and fluffy white sheep gracing the sky. Gerard hates the memory.
A few minutes, or maybe a few hours pass before Gerard decides he has had enough of the lake and the cold and the taunting stars and he makes his way back into the flat, not locking the door behind him. He crashes on the couch fully clothed and flicks on the shopping channel, not watching just listening to the voices, just knowing that he isn’t alone.
-
The next few days fly past in a haze of almost time and colours, Gerard doesn’t go to work or to visit Mrs Harte nor does he call his brother he simply stays inside his apartment and drinks. It doesn’t matter what he’s drinking; only how much he’s drinking, a lot. He doesn’t wash or eat much and by the fifth day, when Mikey comes for him, Gerard is living in disarray.
At some point he spilt most of his paints, staining the floors of his apartment with murky, mixed colours most closely described as brown. The food in his fridge has gone off and more food is leaking onto the carpets and the tiles and sofa. The place stinks but Gerard is worse.
Mikey leaves Frank in the car to come get Gerard, it doesn’t take long for him to realise that he was right about what Gerard had been doing. Over the past five days Mikey has received calls from both Bob and the woman from down the road all worried and confused and asking for Mikey to ‘just go check up on him.’ Mikey hadn’t wanted to, he had wanted to believe that Gerard was fine now, he had been straight for months, Mikey wanted to believe that Gerard was past all this. But when five days had passed and ten phone calls had gone unanswered along with countless worried texts Mikey had decided to come over.
The apartment is a mess matching Gerard, who lies drunk against the wall a distant look in his green eyes. Mikey sighs and moves over to his brother who moans slightly, a small whimper against the things only he can see. There’s sick on his chin and more in a pool beside him, more liquid than anything else.
“C’mon Gee, c’mon” Mikey mutters, brushing away some of Gerard’s hair “What have you done to yourself?”
Gerard grumbles something in response, shifting away slightly from the sound of Mikey’s voice. Mikey sighs sadly and shifts an arm around Gerard’s back and under his arm pit, Gerard huffs slightly but doesn’t make much more of a fuss. It’s a bit of effort but eventually Mikey manages to haul Gerard up to standing where Gerard promptly throws up.
“Jesus Christ” Mikey swears because that shit is on his shoes. But he doesn’t let it put him off as he practically drags his brother’s weight out of the apartment. “C’mon, you”
-
Gerard wakes up in a clean bed, the white sheets and soft pillows tell him instantly that it isn’t his bed. He rolls carefully, trying to avoid the headache leaning in at the back of his skull, and crushes his eyes shut as he tries to remember how he got here.
He’s pretty sure he’s at Mikey’s house if the Ikea art and cream walls tell him anything but he’s not exactly sure why he’s at Mikey’s house. The most he can remember is Ryan crashing into him at work then a lot of shouting, mostly his shouting. This memory does little to help him understand why he’s at Mikey’s but he guesses that Mikey will simply tell him later.
Looking through the blinds, Gerard can see the sun high in the sky, it must be around midday, which means, most likely, Mikey and Alicia are at work, Rowan at her Grandma’s. He wants to sleep but he can’t quite relax, Gerard has never been able to sleep through the day but he’s never been at Mikey’s alone before so he’s not really sure what he can do instead. It seems like a good idea to find some aspirin and coffee though, before he decides.
He sits and ignores, as best he can, the throb at the back of his head threatening to slip further into his brain if he’s not careful. He stays sat for a moment taking in shallow breaths and just keeping still and Gerard’s just about ready to move when there’s a light tap on the door and I head sticking round the white wood.
“You’re awake,” Frank says with a soft smile, he looks awkward, a little flustered.
Gerard gives a weak grin before saying, “Wish I wasn’t, Jesus Christ”
Frank laughs a little, moving more inside but still lingering by the door as if Gerard is not safe for him to be around. Gerard stares a little then, taking in Frank’s features through fuzzy sleep filled eyes.
“You cut your hair”
Frank runs a hand over his buzzed head a little self consciously, Gerard thinks, and grins meekly “Yeah, it was getting to be a pain, like on stage and stuff I couldn’t see” he giggles
Frank looks older now, Gerard notices, now that all the small curls of dark hair have been wiped from Frank’s scalp, the lines of his jaw are more visible, harder he looks less feminine and like, like a man, Gerard thinks.
“It looks good” Gerard nods and he can see, visibly Frank relaxing
“So uh, your brother said today that I’m on babysitting duty, so… do… you want…anything?” The sentence breaks up at the end as Frank mumbles to the ground
“Dude you can not babysit someone ten years older than you” Gerard laughs
Frank’s head shoots up “What?”
“Nothing, nothing” Gerard laughs “I was just gonna get some coffee and fifty aspirins”
Frank nods a couple of times “Stay there, I’ll get it”
In Gerard’s eyes Frank could not be any more perfect.
-
Gerard is curled up on the bed, mirroring Frank and sipping on coffee like he has been for the past hour, his eyes are heavy and his body is really fucking relaxed, it feels good, just being here like this. Frank’s hand traces patterns across the sheets and he’s smiling a little at something Gerard has said. Gerard wants to stay like this forever just sitting in Frank’s aura.
“So do you live with Mikey now?” Gerard asks, hoping the question isn’t too personal
“Yeah I lost my apartment and I didn’t want to live with my mom again and Mikey’s cool so” Frank finishes with a little flourish of his hands “But you’re Mikey’s brother, that’s really cool”
Gerard doesn’t really know how this is cool but he nods anyway moving to put his cup on the floor, he then shifts his weight so that his face is closer to Franks. Frank smiles a little more and his hands brush Gerard’s, it’s brief enough for it to have been an accident but it’s enough for Gerard’s mind to start wondering. He chews on his lip and looks down to where their knees are turned towards each other the heat of Frank’s body radiating onto Gerard’s. This is what he needs, he thinks, this is right.
“Wanna watch a movie?” Frank asks after a moment and Gerard is close enough to feel breath on his face, hot and there
He nods a little and doesn’t pout when Frank moves away slightly to grab the remote. There’s a TV in the corner like the one in Gerard’s living room except with all the movie channels and a remote that actually works properly. Frank channel floats for a while skipping over chick flicks and comedies until he comes to In Bruges and stops with a grin. He relaxes back onto the bed and rests his head by Gerard’s shoulder, not looking away from the screen.
Their knees still reflect one another and Gerard just feels warm and nice, like there’s electricity in his veins but not enough to hurt or bother him. He wonders what it would feel like if Frank actually touched him, moved the few inches separating them and kissed Gerard. He feels as though he might explode, if Frank was to do that, so for now he’s okay with just sitting.
“Just to let you know” Frank says, “I will cry”
Gerard lets out an awkward giggle and Frank rests his head on Gerard’s shoulder, smiling and warm.
-
They both cry, unattractive and blubbering with runny noses and soggy eyes by this point Frank’s knees are tucked into Gerard and his hands are on Gerard’s lap. They both laugh at themselves and then Frank lets out this small shaky sigh and Gerard squeezes his hand and they just look at each other close and definite.
And this is it, Gerard thinks in a sort of spluttering realisation because Frank is so close now and pretty and all glass eyed and hopeful. Gerard brushes a finger over Frank’s knuckles and Frank tilts his head just a little bit so that Gerard can see his parted lips and glistening cheeks and he wants, he wants.
But then Frank just looks away and back to the screen, his head returning to Gerard’s shoulder and his legs tucking up more and he says “This is my favourite part”
And just like that, the moment is gone.
A/N Three is the magic number. Also I'm thinking of changing the day to Monday cause I seem to be normally done by then, but we'll see! Also watch out for my new Frerard oneshot, it will be posted either tonight or toomrow!
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