FicWad

Chapter 18

People on the subway are staring at us. Probably because our faces and arms are blackened with smoke and shiny with sweat. The rattling hum of the train is too loud, and the fluorescent lights are too bright. I don’t know what’s happening. Bert looks just as confused and in pain as I am. We get off at our stop and somehow make our way to Brendon’s apartment.

Brendon leaps off of the couch the second we come in through the door. “Fuck! What the hell happened? On the news…. shit!” he shouts, flustered. He quickly walks over to us and leads us to the couch. He gently pushes Bert and I on to the cushions.

“You guys look terrible.” Brendon bites his lip in concern. This has got to be a hallucination. Who is this guy and what has he done with Asshole Brendon?

“Ferris Wheel.” Bert croaks. He leans forward and coughs hard.

“How did you… oh. Did you ditch the hospital?”

“Yep.”

Brendon gets us both tall glasses of cold water. Water has never tasted so good. The icy water soothes the burning dryness in my throat. I gulp down the entire glass in a minute flat. Brendon quickly refills it for me. When did he turn into Mother Teresa? Wasn’t it just last night that he was… I shudder and try to shake off the memory.

“You guys should get some sleep.” Brendon says. He actually cleans off our faces with a damp cloth. I avoid eye contact with him as he rubs the soot off of my face.

“I’ll be at work by the time you wake up. Early shift tomorrow. Take it easy, okay guys?” Brendon tells us. He walks us to our bedroom. “Wake me up if you need something.”

“Thank you, Brendon.” Bert says gratefully. Brendon gently closes the door as Bert helps me into bed.

“How do you feel?” Bert asks, brushing the hair out of my face. It’s almost to my shoulders.

“I dunno. How do you feel?” I reply.

Bert crawls under the covers. We arrange ourselves into our usual position. Bert on his left side with his arms around me, and me with my head snuggled into his chest. “Kinda hungry.” he says.

“I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.” I tell him, sliding my hand underneath his shirt and rubbing his chest.

“You can cook?”

“Nope.”

--

I wake up with my throat feeling like sandpaper. Sandpaper that’s on fire.

“Agh!!” I choke out. I stumble out of bed and sprint to the kitchen. I grab the nearest glass and fill it full of lukewarm tap water. I don’t care what it is, I just need liquid. I drink it so fast that it goes down wrong and I begin to cough violently.

“Gerard?” Bert mumbles sleepily, padding into the kitchen. “You okay?”

I nod, still coughing. It’s obvious that I’m not okay. Bert pats me on the back until my coughing calms down. I gasp for air and let myself sink into his arms. The microwave clock tells me it’s 5 in the morning.

“Want to go back to bed?” Bert asks, stroking my back.

“I’m going to get another glass of water. I’ll be there in a sec.” I tell him.

“Alright.” Bert kisses my nose before going back to our bedroom.

Brendon sneaks quietly into the kitchen. Before I can react, he pins one of my wrists onto the cold countertop. With his other hand, he takes a knife from a nearby drawer and holds it to my throat. “Make a sound and your pretty little throat will be decorated with blood.” he threatens in a whisper.

Brendon presses the blade to my skin, nearly hard enough to slice it. He frees my wrist and unzips his pants. I step backward and bump into the counter, realizing I’m cornered. My heart pounds like a jackhammer against my ribs. Brendon kisses my cheek with a bad imitation of Bert’s devilish grin on his face. “It will all be over soon, darling.”

DON’T CALL ME THAT, I want to scream. But I can’t. Because he could kill me, and maybe even Bert. Brendon pushes me onto my knees so that I’m facing his half-erect cock. “You know what to do, slut.” he hisses. I cringe away. He grabs me by the hair and forces me onto his cock. I choke, but I begin to suck anyways, because Brendon’s knife is pressed against the back of my neck.

“Mmmm…” Brendon thrusts forward and begins to fuck my mouth. Tears fill my eyes as I feel his cock harden in my mouth. I’m sorry, Bert.

“Get the fuck away from my boyfriend.”

Brendon quickly jumps away from me. I press my back against the drawers and begin to sob. Bert converges on Brendon and curls his hand around his throat.

“He came onto me, I swear!” Brendon gasps.

“Then why the fuck did you have a knife pressed to his neck?” Bert snarls. He releases Brendon’s neck, pulls his arm back, and slams it into the side of Brendon’s face. Brendon falls to the floor, blood dripping from his nose. Bert punches him again, harder this time.

“Stop!” I cry. He ignores me and kicks Brendon in the ribs. Brendon gasps sharply.

“You FUCKER!” Bert screams. Words like daggers pour out of his mouth, spewing like lava. The sentences don’t even make sense. They’re just full of insults and swearing. Brendon cowers, sitting on the floor near the refrigerator. Blood splatters across the white of the fridge.

“P-Please! Stop!” I wail, covering my ears with my hands to muffle Brendon’s cries of pain and Bert’s angry screaming. But Bert doesn’t stop. His fists rain down on Brendon like hail. He grabs Brendon by the shirt, drags him upwards, and punches him in the jaw. Brendon screams one last time and goes limp.

“ENOUGH!” I screech. I leap towards Bert and wrap my arms around him like a human straightjacket. He freezes instantly.

“Gerard, get away.” he growls.

“N-No.” I say, shoulders still shaking with sobs.

“I said get away!” Bert shouts, breaking free and shoving me to the ground.

“Bert!” I cry.

Bert kicks Brendon in the crotch for good measure, and leans close to him. “Come near me and my boyfriend again, and I’ll bury you alive. Got it?” Brendon nods, his tears leaving clean streaks down his bloody face.

Bert marches off down the hallway, and returns a minute later with a suitcase that I’m guessing is full of our possessions. “Come on, Gerard.” he says. I slowly get up, wiping tears from my cheeks. Bert takes my hand, sticky with Brendon’s blood.

Then he drags me out of the apartment, never looking back.