FicWad

8: Heartbreaking
January 9, 2009: 11:15 AM

Ray walked in the door of the tour bus right after Gerard had gotten a fresh cup of coffee.
"Did you find him?" he asked immediately, forgoing the coffee.
"Yeah," Ray said. "Yeah, I found him."
In an instance, Gerard knew what had happened. He responded with a one-word question: "How?"
"He-" Ray's voice broke and he stared fixedly at his boots. "He shot himself in the mouth."
He was trying not to cry. It was heartbreakingly obvious, even from where Gerard was sitting.
"Oh, my God," Gerard whispered. "Oh, my God."
And Ray found him...
Ray looked up at him, his eyes bright with unshed tears. He closed his eyes and Gerard saw a tear roll down his rough face. He was silent for a moment, then said, "He's in that house."
Gerard got up and walked slowly over to Ray. Ray slid down the side of the wall and wrapped his long arms around his knees, staring at the torn, faded denim. Gerard lowered himself until he was next to the younger man. He rested his head on Ray's curly hair.
"It's gonna be okay," he murmured, not entirely sure if Ray could hear him. The words were as much for himself as they were for Ray. He pressed his lips to Ray's forehead like he was comforting a child. "It's gonna be okay..." He closed his eyes and trailed his lips to Ray's temple, moving them slowly down to brush over his closed eyelids, tracing the barely-there tears that still lingered on his cheekbones.
What are you doing? A voice in his head that sounded like his both mother and Mikey screamed. He hesitated. What was he doing?
Ray tilted his face upwards and his lips fell on Gerard's for a moment.
That cleared things up.
He had to pull away first. "What the hell was that?"
Oh, shit. That had come out wrong.
Ray's eyes flew open with surprise. "What-well, excuse me thinking that might lead to something," he said disbelievingly.
He had a point.
"I-" Gerard stammered, but Ray had gotten to his feet. A faint blush had appeared on his cheeks.
"Jesus, Gerard," he said, his tone revealing the disgust that was burning in his dark eyes. "I never would have pegged you for a tease."
"Ray-"
"Save it." He walked toward the door calmly. His hand curled around the door handle and he turned to look at Gerard. "I'll be back later," he said, then, in a much lower tone, added, "Probably." He was out the door before Gerard could respond.
Gerard just watched him go.
"Gee?" Mikey had come in a bare second after Ray had left. "What's going on? Did you guys find Frank?"
"Yeah," Gerard said, not looking at him. "Yeah. Ray found him."
"Is he okay?" His kid brother's voice was slurred with sleep.
"No." Gerard took a deep breath. "He's dead."
The words seemed to hang in the air, immobile, irretrievable.
"What?" Mike finally choked out. "How? What happened?"
"He sh-shot himself in the head," Gerard said quietly. "Ray found him."
"Oh, Jesus."
"Yeah."
"Where's Ray?"
"He..." For the first time, Gerard's voice broke. "He left."
"Why? What happened?" Mike was wide awake now.
"I, uhm... it's a long story." How the hell could he explain what had happened? He hardly knew himself.
"Okay," Mike said, seemingly knowing not to press him on that. "What happened with Frankie?"
"Uhm... I don't... really... know."
"Where is he?" Mike pressed.
"In his house," Gerard said, relieve to finally be able to give some information.
"Oh, God. Does Jamia know?"
"I don't think so."
"I'll call her," Mike offered. "She likes me."
"Okay," Gerard said, too tired and confused to argue. "Tell Bob, too." Mike nodded and went to the back of the bus, presumably for some privacy while he called Jamia to inform her that she was a widow.
Gerard stared out the window. There was no sign of Ray.
He might not have been able to save Frank, but he wasn't letting Ray go that easily.