MCR fic
TITLE: And if you think that I'm wrong this never meant nothing to ya
CHAPTER: 5b
PAIRING: Gerard/Mikey. If you squint, maybe one sided Frank/Mikey.
RATING: pg-13
SUMMARY: Time to talk...
DISCLAIMER: Didn't happen like this.
WARNING: fucked up time line. Bob there when he shouldn't be.
part one|
part two|
part three|
part four|
part five a|
"Hey, you need anything?" Frank peered in. Mikey had been sitting and watching over Gerard for two and a half hours without so much as a cup of coffee.
"I'm fine. I'll be fine. You know, when he wakes up." He forced a smile and climbed out for a second to give Frank a hug. "Thank you, for last night, and-"
"Ssshhhh, don't thank me." Fixing Mikey's hair back into a little point down his forehead, Frank took Mikey's hands in his own and gripped tightly before letting him go. "Just shout if you need anything. Or, if you want some company I can sit with you for a while?"
"It's alright. I'm probably just gonna curl up and nap in the corner."
Frank nodded, watching Mikey get back in with his brother and sit, just staring at him with worry and concern. He was worried too, of course, but he couldn't help thinking that he wouldn't ever do anything that would scare Mikey so much.
............
When Gerard eventually came round, it took a few minutes for him to open his eyes. His first thought was annoyance that what he'd done hadn't worked. Then oh shit. Because that meant everyone knew, and. And then he'd fucked up even worse. Squinting an eye open he saw Mikey sitting in the corner of the bunk he was in. Bob's bunk. He looked like he was asleep, and Gerard tried to whisper to him but the words wouldn't come out. His throat was dry and sore, his head pounding. His stomach ached. He settled for nudging Mikey with one of his feet.
Mikey's eyes widened. His mouth opened in somewhat disbelief that his brother was actually awake, looking at him. Alive. He couldn't smile, not yet. He wasn't happy exactly, just relieved. He did cry though. "I-I'm gonna hug you. Okay?" he asked warily. Gerard nodded and Mikey crawled up carefully, laying next to his brother and putting one arm across his chest.
"Mike, Mikey," Gerard croaked. Mikey lifted his head.
"You need something to drink? I've got some water here." He leant down to where he'd been sitting, bringing back with him the bottle of water Frank had left him with at some point. Twisting off the cap, he helped Gerard sit up slightly and held it to his mouth.
A few drips slipped down his chin as he tried to swallow more than he should have, the excess coming back out. Mikey wiped it with his sleeve and pulled the drink back. "Better?"
"A little. Mikey, I'm-"
"So you're probably pretty sore, huh?" he interrupted, playing with the ends of Gerard's hair. "You smell like vomit." Reaching up to Mikey's cheek, Gerard tried a slight smile. It looked more like a grimace, but it was uncertain either way. "I'm gonna go let them know you're up. They're worried about you," he said hurriedly, moving Gerard's hand before it touched his skin, he climbed out and went into the lounge.
Everyone's eyes turned to him.
"He um, he's up," Mikey announced, hands deep in his pockets.
"I'll go see him," Ray said as he walked past.
Looking down, Mikey walked off the bus and sat on the cold ground. Frank picked up his cigarettes and joined him, bringing a jacket with him and draping it over Mikey's shoulders. "Cold out here." Mikey just nodded. "Did, did he say something?"
"I think he was gonna apologize or something. I didn't. He scared me, Frank. I thought, I don't know. I didn't wanna hear it. Not if he doesn't mean it."
"Maybe he does." Frank offered Mikey a drag and put an arm around him.
"Maybe. But, I. I give up. I think. I don't know how to talk to him now." He turned in to Frank's side, burying his head against his chest. "I miss him, y'know?"
Frank kissed the top of Mikey's head with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. We all do."
"You know what he said to me? Last night?" Frank shook his head and Mikey continued. "He asked me if I, if we had some plan to get him sorted out-like, I could maybe get him to clean up, whereas us talking to him didn't work."
"You? How?" Mikey looked up at him and it clicked in Frank's brain. "Oh. Shit."
"Exactly. That hurts almost as much as what he did. That he'd think that. I love him, and I know I shouldn't, not like that. But I do and I'd never use it like a, a dare or something. A ploy to get him to do what I want. Never. How could I? I didn't even know he... he feels the same. Said he did, at least. And now, how do I even look at him?"
"I don't know, Mikey. I don't know. We'll. You'll figure it out."
That's how Ray found them half an hour later; huddled together in the cold, Frank nose deep in Mikey's hair and eyes closed, rubbing his lower back under the jacket. "Guys?"
Frank looked back at him, Mikey still with a death grip on his shirt. "What's up?"
"Gerard's gone for a shower. Smells like vomit apparently. Didn't really want to agree with him, but, yeah."
"What?" Mikey got up, jacket left to fall onto Frank's legs. "By himself? What if he falls or something? He can't be feeling that great just yet!" As he ran inside Frank pulled out another smoke, leaning his head back on the bus to light it.
"Forget about it, Frank."
"Forget about what?"
"Don't play dumb. Dude, I have eyes, okay. Just, it's not gonna happen. He needs a friend. They both do."
"Yeah." Frank blew his smoke slowly into the air. "I know."
.............
Getting out a butter knife, Mikey walked to the bathroom door. "Uh, Mikey? You know Gerard's in there. What are you? Oh," Bob realized. He's opening the lock.
"I wanna check he's alright. Shouldn't be on his own." Popping the lock open easily; not the first time he'd done it, Mikey opened the door. The room was steamy but he could make out the shower. It was pretty noisy, and he figured his brother probably hadn't even heard him come in. Pulling back the shower curtain revealed Gerard standing slumped in the corner, water pouring over him. His head slowly turned towards Mikey, mouth hung open and a pretty blank expression on his face. He blinked a couple of times but made no move to speak.
Slowly, Mikey removed his shirt, then his socks and jeans. Lastly his boxers, and without a word between them, stepped into the shower and shut the curtain. The water was pretty warm, and Gerard's eyes were fixed on the opposite wall, staring into nothing. Pulling him up a little straighter, Mikey reached up to the small shelf and pulled down a bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm. "Close your eyes," he said, and when Gerard complied he rubbed his palms together and tangled them in his brother's matted hair, building up a good amount of bubbly suds and working his fingers all over. As he rinsed it off Gerard opened his eyes, looking Mikey right in his own but still blank.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked quietly.
"Because you're my brother. And I care." He followed the shampoo with conditioner, doing the same as before and running his fingers through the newly tangle-free hair with a slight smile, aware of his brother's gaze on him the whole time. "You don't smell crappy anymore." Gerard hummed a slight approval before Mikey next chose shower gel and dropped a good sized amount onto his own sponge from the shelf. "I'm gonna wash you, okay?" Gerard nodded slowly, spitting water from his lips and shaking his hair out a little. Mikey started on Gerard's neck, right up under his ears and slowly down to his shoulders, the slight bump of his collar bone.
Halfway down his chest Gerard stopped him, fingers threading together. "What?"
"I'm sorry."
"Just let me do this, yeah?" Mikey didn't wait for a reply, and Gerard let go of his hand, closing his eyes with a slight wince as the sponge moved from hip to hip in small circling movements over his stomach. Mikey didn't make it take any longer than necessary, moving Gerard around to face the wall so that he could do his back. Getting to the bottom of his spine, Mikey paused, wanting to say something but having no clue what it should be. Gerard turned his head, then the rest of himself as he saw Mikey just looking at him, sponge still pressed to his lower back.
Hesitantly he placed a hand on each of his brother's hips and took a small step towards him, using them to steady himself. "Mikey. I really am so sorry."
"Okay," Mikey said after a few second's pause.
Gerard asked, confused, "just... okay? That's it?"
"What were you expecting me to say? You've been a bad boy, you're grounded? You're an adult, Gee. If you wanna top yourself then you're gonna do it. All I can do is pick you up after-if there is an after," he added sadly.
"How can I, how do I make it up to you?"
"You even want to?"
"I do. I don't wanna do this again-don't wanna hurt you like this again, don't want to be like this anymore. And I love you." He stroked up Mikey's side until his wet hand met Mikey's wet face, and his head tilted into Gerard's fingers, expression softening.
"Then quit."
Gerard closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath and turning off the water with his free hand. "Yeah. Yeah okay. I'll quit. I'm done."
Mikey fought the urge to smile. "Promise?"
"Would you believe me if I did?" Gerard asked, eyebrows raised.
"I always believe your promises. Do you believe mine?"
"Mhmmm. Always," Gerard nodded.
Mikey leant down the small distance between them and pressed his lips softly to his brother's, a slight swipe of tongue as he pulled away. "It wasn't a game. I love you."
Wrapping his arms fully around Mikey, Gerard allowed himself a small smile. "I know. I just couldn't believe it was real." They stood in silence for a minute just holding each other tight. Their bodies were pressed together from head to toe but it didn't register to either as anything sexual in the slightest, however naked they were, because all it was right then was a brother comforting a brother, even if neither one of them could've been sure who was meant to be comforting who.
The warmth of the room disappeared slowly, leaving them shivering slightly and it was Mikey who moved away first, grabbing towels for them both and helping Gerard sit down so he could get dry.
When Mikey himself had finished and gotten on some boxers, he helped his brother dry off and left him alone to dress, closing the door softly behind him.
He moved to the bunks without a word, dressing himself and finishing towelling of his hair. Bob was changing his sheets, they weren't exactly smelling all that great to be fair, and Mikey openened Gerard's suitcase to get him something to wear, not noticing any clean clothes in the bathroom. As he picked through them, looking for the blue denim he knew Gerard loved, and the hoodie he always lounged around in when he felt like crap, Mikey's hands settled on a small pill bottle, half empty.
"Give 'em to Jerry. He'll get rid of 'em," Bob said from behind him.
"No." Finding everything he was looking for, Mikey put the bottle back and zipped up the case. "He said he wants to get better. He should do that himself. We all need to talk anyway."
Getting back into the bathroom, he found Gerard standing in front of the small mirror, towel wrapped around his waist. Mikey set the clothes down and stood behind him, looking at Gerard in the mirror over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"Just looking. I don't look too good, huh?" he squinted at himself, stretching out his jaw.
"You look a little strung out, need some proper rest." Mikey rested his chin on Gerard's shoulder and kissed his neck gently. "Brought you in some clothes. Come out when you're dressed?" Gerard nodded, breathing in and out deeply. "You ready to talk to everyone?"
"Maybe. I think. Go on, I won't be long." Turning away from the mirror to look at Mikey properly, Gerard smiled awkwardly. "I've been a really shitty brother."
Not being able to stifle a slight chuckle, Mikey ran a hand through his brother's still wet hair. "A little. Can only get better now though. Right?"
"Yeah. I hope so. You're amazing you know? I'd probably have strangled you for the shit I've pulled recently."
"Don't think I still won't," Mikey smiled, leaving him to dress.
..................
When Gerard emerged from the bathroom it was slow, steadier steps than what had carried him in there, but still unsure. He looked at Bob, Ray, Jerry, Frank and Mikey, all sitting at the table. He grimaced. He squeezed in between Frank and Ray, unsure what the others knew about him and Mikey and not wanting to make it obvious; he really just wanted to curl up in Mikey's lap and close his eyes to it all.
It was Jerry who started, which made sense. He was oldest and wisest and the only one who really knew what to say and how to say it.
"Mikey said you want to get better?" Gerard nodded and cast his eyes towards his brother for a second, kind of thankful he'd said that so there was less room to back out. "We've been talking about it and-well, ok. There are options. If you're serious."
"I am. I really am," he said quietly, looking at his fingers in his lap.
"Okay. You think rehab would be realistic for you?"
Gerard shook his head. "No, I. Unless I have to, unless you all want me to. I will, if you want."
"Then how about this? I've been talking to a few people with medical know-how. You can't just quit everything all at once, it could be dangerous for you-"
"No, Jerry. I'm done. No more, not fuckin' happenin'."
Jerry slammed a fist on the table. It made everyone jump, he was a placid guy and not even one to raise his voice too often. "Seizures sound good to you, huh? I know you're not hardcore into it, or I'd definitely have noticed, but it's a possibility if you don't do this slowly. I didn't get mad about you guys drinking, even though I don't. I didn't get mad about your pills, even though I don't take them. And when you woke me, incoherant and coked up to your eyeballs, I didn't get mad-I took care of you. Now, you're gonna listen, and if you're serious about getting clean you'll either do this or check in somewhere. There are no other options."
The others nodded quietly before Gerard whispered, "Okay. Sorry, Jerry. Sorry."
"It's fine, just thinking about what's best to move forward now. Drink and cocaine, you gotta stop that, completely. But I want you to keep taking the xanax, just when you need it to take the edge off, until you can do at least a little alright without it. Wean you off it. How's that sound?"
He looked around, the guys nodding in agreement, Mikey smiling weakly in encouragement. "I'll try?" He took a deep breath, "I'll try. I want to."
After their 'meeting' finished Gerard went back to lie down, to try and ignore the pounding in his head. He didn't want to take anything, not unless he had to. He'd felt like shit before, that wasn't anything new, but he'd never had the conflict in his head before. He knew where his stuff was, five minutes unguarded and he could feel so much better, make the ache go away-just for a little while. Just a little bit more.
It wasn't until his fingers stumbled on the zipper of his make up case that he noticed how unsteady he felt. He dug through, pulling things out and quietly setting them down so as not to make anyone aware of his actions. He found his little baggy, the emergency stash that wasn't really ever intended to be used because he never thought about running out. It was mainly in case he got stuck somewhere he couldn't get any or didn't have any.
The anticipation was killing him, making him feel sweaty and flushed at the thought of being caught, even though he physically wasn't, though part of him didn't care past feeling 'better'.
Stuffing the bag up his sleeve, Gerard made his way as inconspicuously as he could to the bathroom, not looking at anyone but trying his best to make it look like he wasn't ignoring them either. Just going to the bathroom.
Once inside he made a space on the counter underneath the mirror, pulling his stash from his sleeve and setting it down to take a few deep breaths to steady his hands enough to actually do it and not spill it all over the place. He touched the powder softly. Yeah, he thought. This is what they see. So white, so beautiful, so... So many things he'd never thought of it before. Never realized why anyone could make it seem like something to write pretty poetry about. It had power, a hold. But that in itself was it's power, he supposed. Something's always more beautiful when you really, really want it.
Catching a glimpse of reflection in the mirror, he looked up at it fully and took himself in. Messy hair, awful tired complexion. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes with a wince and when he opened them again he imagined Mikey standing behind him as he'd been earlier, chin hooked over his shoulder. The smile Mikey wore turned to a disappointed drown, and Gerard shook his head to make it go away. He didn't ever want to see that look again. Quickly, before the urge left him, he tipped the powder into the sink and turned the tap on, washing it away.
Evidently he didn't noticed the door open just enough for Mikey to slip through. The sudden sound of his voice made Gerard jump.
"I was about three seconds away from strangling you," he said flatly, but smiling, if a little cautiously. Wrapping his arms around his brother briefly, Mikey turned off the tap. "Proud of you, bro."
................
It wasn't easy, Gerard was on edge most of the time at first, having to be coerced into having any medication whenever he was shaky or anxious or couldn't quite hold his coffee steady. Nobody drank in front of him, not wanting to tempt or upset him, and he and Mikey shared a bunk every night; Gerard's sleep was fitful at best and he needed Mikey's warmth to remind him what he was doing, why he was doing it.
With no road left to travel, Bob dropped off in Chicago, and Brian meeting up with them, it was decided Gerard and Mikey would also go home for a while before the new tour-assuming it was still going ahead. Their parents were more than welcoming and understanding, but after one night spent in the basement he used to waste most of his time in growing up, Gerard realized that being surrounded by so much that reminded him of loneliness, failure and secret pain through school, wasn't the best idea right then. So Brian and their parents helped them find somewhere else to stay, a small house on Newark ave being rented out while the owners were on holiday. A few minutes walk from their parents. Donna helped them ferry over some sheets and clothes to make it more familiar for them, and Mikey brought comics and action figures.
There wasn't time to feel lonely there, their mom came over a lot, bringing food she'd cooked or leftovers for them. Bob called a few times and Ray and Frank came over with dvds so they could have marathon zombie watching nights. Mikey watched carefully over Gerard. He didn't want it to be obvious, he trusted his brother but couldn't help worry that something might set him off again, and being the one 'looking after' Gerard he didn't want to let him down like he felt he may have already. He monitored the intake of Gerard's pills, charting it on a calendar for both their benefits. He didn't watch Gerard take them after a couple of days, he wanted to spare him the nursemaid treatment as much as possible, and as long as Mikey had the bottle hidden he didn't have to worry.
Once Gerard had gotten down to half a bar in the morning and a whole one at night to help him sleep better, Mikey was more optimistic about things, felt like the end was in sight. Gerard was starting to draw things he was actually happy with, that he maybe wanted to put up on the wall while they were there. He started getting excited about the tour, being a band again, even though they never really weren't. It just felt different. But along with being excited came being worried that he wouldn't be able to do it, that he'd lose something special from their performance without at least a small drink to fuel him on. Mikey noticed tried to reassure him as much as he could that it'd be fine. That he just needed to get out and do it, get the first one over with and back into the groove, albeit a different one.
Mikey also noticed that his brother started getting anxious around lunchtime and late afternoon instead of the usual morning and evening routine at which time he'd hold off for an hour or so before taking his xanax; half to keep him good until nighttime and then one to get him to sleep. He wasn't sleeping properly either. For a couple of nights Mikey found him huddled up with a blanket at the foot of the bed, dishevelled and tired, like some kind of shell of a war vet, trembling and not eating properly. Nerves, Mikey thought. Hoped. He wondered if maybe Gerard needed another half in the morning or something, or if it was just what had to happen; another stage of his getting better, half a step back and then a couple forward-that was Mikey's hope. Otherwise the only thing he could think was that it was a real slip back, but Gerard hadn't asked for any extra pills-or stolen any, even though he knew full well where Mikey kept them.
Pulling his brother back up into the bed for what he hoped would be the last time, Mikey held him close and kissed his cheek, deciding they'd have to talk about upping the dose slightly in the morning.
CHAPTER: 5b
PAIRING: Gerard/Mikey. If you squint, maybe one sided Frank/Mikey.
RATING: pg-13
SUMMARY: Time to talk...
DISCLAIMER: Didn't happen like this.
WARNING: fucked up time line. Bob there when he shouldn't be.
part one|
part two|
part three|
part four|
part five a|
"Hey, you need anything?" Frank peered in. Mikey had been sitting and watching over Gerard for two and a half hours without so much as a cup of coffee.
"I'm fine. I'll be fine. You know, when he wakes up." He forced a smile and climbed out for a second to give Frank a hug. "Thank you, for last night, and-"
"Ssshhhh, don't thank me." Fixing Mikey's hair back into a little point down his forehead, Frank took Mikey's hands in his own and gripped tightly before letting him go. "Just shout if you need anything. Or, if you want some company I can sit with you for a while?"
"It's alright. I'm probably just gonna curl up and nap in the corner."
Frank nodded, watching Mikey get back in with his brother and sit, just staring at him with worry and concern. He was worried too, of course, but he couldn't help thinking that he wouldn't ever do anything that would scare Mikey so much.
............
When Gerard eventually came round, it took a few minutes for him to open his eyes. His first thought was annoyance that what he'd done hadn't worked. Then oh shit. Because that meant everyone knew, and. And then he'd fucked up even worse. Squinting an eye open he saw Mikey sitting in the corner of the bunk he was in. Bob's bunk. He looked like he was asleep, and Gerard tried to whisper to him but the words wouldn't come out. His throat was dry and sore, his head pounding. His stomach ached. He settled for nudging Mikey with one of his feet.
Mikey's eyes widened. His mouth opened in somewhat disbelief that his brother was actually awake, looking at him. Alive. He couldn't smile, not yet. He wasn't happy exactly, just relieved. He did cry though. "I-I'm gonna hug you. Okay?" he asked warily. Gerard nodded and Mikey crawled up carefully, laying next to his brother and putting one arm across his chest.
"Mike, Mikey," Gerard croaked. Mikey lifted his head.
"You need something to drink? I've got some water here." He leant down to where he'd been sitting, bringing back with him the bottle of water Frank had left him with at some point. Twisting off the cap, he helped Gerard sit up slightly and held it to his mouth.
A few drips slipped down his chin as he tried to swallow more than he should have, the excess coming back out. Mikey wiped it with his sleeve and pulled the drink back. "Better?"
"A little. Mikey, I'm-"
"So you're probably pretty sore, huh?" he interrupted, playing with the ends of Gerard's hair. "You smell like vomit." Reaching up to Mikey's cheek, Gerard tried a slight smile. It looked more like a grimace, but it was uncertain either way. "I'm gonna go let them know you're up. They're worried about you," he said hurriedly, moving Gerard's hand before it touched his skin, he climbed out and went into the lounge.
Everyone's eyes turned to him.
"He um, he's up," Mikey announced, hands deep in his pockets.
"I'll go see him," Ray said as he walked past.
Looking down, Mikey walked off the bus and sat on the cold ground. Frank picked up his cigarettes and joined him, bringing a jacket with him and draping it over Mikey's shoulders. "Cold out here." Mikey just nodded. "Did, did he say something?"
"I think he was gonna apologize or something. I didn't. He scared me, Frank. I thought, I don't know. I didn't wanna hear it. Not if he doesn't mean it."
"Maybe he does." Frank offered Mikey a drag and put an arm around him.
"Maybe. But, I. I give up. I think. I don't know how to talk to him now." He turned in to Frank's side, burying his head against his chest. "I miss him, y'know?"
Frank kissed the top of Mikey's head with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. We all do."
"You know what he said to me? Last night?" Frank shook his head and Mikey continued. "He asked me if I, if we had some plan to get him sorted out-like, I could maybe get him to clean up, whereas us talking to him didn't work."
"You? How?" Mikey looked up at him and it clicked in Frank's brain. "Oh. Shit."
"Exactly. That hurts almost as much as what he did. That he'd think that. I love him, and I know I shouldn't, not like that. But I do and I'd never use it like a, a dare or something. A ploy to get him to do what I want. Never. How could I? I didn't even know he... he feels the same. Said he did, at least. And now, how do I even look at him?"
"I don't know, Mikey. I don't know. We'll. You'll figure it out."
That's how Ray found them half an hour later; huddled together in the cold, Frank nose deep in Mikey's hair and eyes closed, rubbing his lower back under the jacket. "Guys?"
Frank looked back at him, Mikey still with a death grip on his shirt. "What's up?"
"Gerard's gone for a shower. Smells like vomit apparently. Didn't really want to agree with him, but, yeah."
"What?" Mikey got up, jacket left to fall onto Frank's legs. "By himself? What if he falls or something? He can't be feeling that great just yet!" As he ran inside Frank pulled out another smoke, leaning his head back on the bus to light it.
"Forget about it, Frank."
"Forget about what?"
"Don't play dumb. Dude, I have eyes, okay. Just, it's not gonna happen. He needs a friend. They both do."
"Yeah." Frank blew his smoke slowly into the air. "I know."
.............
Getting out a butter knife, Mikey walked to the bathroom door. "Uh, Mikey? You know Gerard's in there. What are you? Oh," Bob realized. He's opening the lock.
"I wanna check he's alright. Shouldn't be on his own." Popping the lock open easily; not the first time he'd done it, Mikey opened the door. The room was steamy but he could make out the shower. It was pretty noisy, and he figured his brother probably hadn't even heard him come in. Pulling back the shower curtain revealed Gerard standing slumped in the corner, water pouring over him. His head slowly turned towards Mikey, mouth hung open and a pretty blank expression on his face. He blinked a couple of times but made no move to speak.
Slowly, Mikey removed his shirt, then his socks and jeans. Lastly his boxers, and without a word between them, stepped into the shower and shut the curtain. The water was pretty warm, and Gerard's eyes were fixed on the opposite wall, staring into nothing. Pulling him up a little straighter, Mikey reached up to the small shelf and pulled down a bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm. "Close your eyes," he said, and when Gerard complied he rubbed his palms together and tangled them in his brother's matted hair, building up a good amount of bubbly suds and working his fingers all over. As he rinsed it off Gerard opened his eyes, looking Mikey right in his own but still blank.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked quietly.
"Because you're my brother. And I care." He followed the shampoo with conditioner, doing the same as before and running his fingers through the newly tangle-free hair with a slight smile, aware of his brother's gaze on him the whole time. "You don't smell crappy anymore." Gerard hummed a slight approval before Mikey next chose shower gel and dropped a good sized amount onto his own sponge from the shelf. "I'm gonna wash you, okay?" Gerard nodded slowly, spitting water from his lips and shaking his hair out a little. Mikey started on Gerard's neck, right up under his ears and slowly down to his shoulders, the slight bump of his collar bone.
Halfway down his chest Gerard stopped him, fingers threading together. "What?"
"I'm sorry."
"Just let me do this, yeah?" Mikey didn't wait for a reply, and Gerard let go of his hand, closing his eyes with a slight wince as the sponge moved from hip to hip in small circling movements over his stomach. Mikey didn't make it take any longer than necessary, moving Gerard around to face the wall so that he could do his back. Getting to the bottom of his spine, Mikey paused, wanting to say something but having no clue what it should be. Gerard turned his head, then the rest of himself as he saw Mikey just looking at him, sponge still pressed to his lower back.
Hesitantly he placed a hand on each of his brother's hips and took a small step towards him, using them to steady himself. "Mikey. I really am so sorry."
"Okay," Mikey said after a few second's pause.
Gerard asked, confused, "just... okay? That's it?"
"What were you expecting me to say? You've been a bad boy, you're grounded? You're an adult, Gee. If you wanna top yourself then you're gonna do it. All I can do is pick you up after-if there is an after," he added sadly.
"How can I, how do I make it up to you?"
"You even want to?"
"I do. I don't wanna do this again-don't wanna hurt you like this again, don't want to be like this anymore. And I love you." He stroked up Mikey's side until his wet hand met Mikey's wet face, and his head tilted into Gerard's fingers, expression softening.
"Then quit."
Gerard closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath and turning off the water with his free hand. "Yeah. Yeah okay. I'll quit. I'm done."
Mikey fought the urge to smile. "Promise?"
"Would you believe me if I did?" Gerard asked, eyebrows raised.
"I always believe your promises. Do you believe mine?"
"Mhmmm. Always," Gerard nodded.
Mikey leant down the small distance between them and pressed his lips softly to his brother's, a slight swipe of tongue as he pulled away. "It wasn't a game. I love you."
Wrapping his arms fully around Mikey, Gerard allowed himself a small smile. "I know. I just couldn't believe it was real." They stood in silence for a minute just holding each other tight. Their bodies were pressed together from head to toe but it didn't register to either as anything sexual in the slightest, however naked they were, because all it was right then was a brother comforting a brother, even if neither one of them could've been sure who was meant to be comforting who.
The warmth of the room disappeared slowly, leaving them shivering slightly and it was Mikey who moved away first, grabbing towels for them both and helping Gerard sit down so he could get dry.
When Mikey himself had finished and gotten on some boxers, he helped his brother dry off and left him alone to dress, closing the door softly behind him.
He moved to the bunks without a word, dressing himself and finishing towelling of his hair. Bob was changing his sheets, they weren't exactly smelling all that great to be fair, and Mikey openened Gerard's suitcase to get him something to wear, not noticing any clean clothes in the bathroom. As he picked through them, looking for the blue denim he knew Gerard loved, and the hoodie he always lounged around in when he felt like crap, Mikey's hands settled on a small pill bottle, half empty.
"Give 'em to Jerry. He'll get rid of 'em," Bob said from behind him.
"No." Finding everything he was looking for, Mikey put the bottle back and zipped up the case. "He said he wants to get better. He should do that himself. We all need to talk anyway."
Getting back into the bathroom, he found Gerard standing in front of the small mirror, towel wrapped around his waist. Mikey set the clothes down and stood behind him, looking at Gerard in the mirror over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"Just looking. I don't look too good, huh?" he squinted at himself, stretching out his jaw.
"You look a little strung out, need some proper rest." Mikey rested his chin on Gerard's shoulder and kissed his neck gently. "Brought you in some clothes. Come out when you're dressed?" Gerard nodded, breathing in and out deeply. "You ready to talk to everyone?"
"Maybe. I think. Go on, I won't be long." Turning away from the mirror to look at Mikey properly, Gerard smiled awkwardly. "I've been a really shitty brother."
Not being able to stifle a slight chuckle, Mikey ran a hand through his brother's still wet hair. "A little. Can only get better now though. Right?"
"Yeah. I hope so. You're amazing you know? I'd probably have strangled you for the shit I've pulled recently."
"Don't think I still won't," Mikey smiled, leaving him to dress.
..................
When Gerard emerged from the bathroom it was slow, steadier steps than what had carried him in there, but still unsure. He looked at Bob, Ray, Jerry, Frank and Mikey, all sitting at the table. He grimaced. He squeezed in between Frank and Ray, unsure what the others knew about him and Mikey and not wanting to make it obvious; he really just wanted to curl up in Mikey's lap and close his eyes to it all.
It was Jerry who started, which made sense. He was oldest and wisest and the only one who really knew what to say and how to say it.
"Mikey said you want to get better?" Gerard nodded and cast his eyes towards his brother for a second, kind of thankful he'd said that so there was less room to back out. "We've been talking about it and-well, ok. There are options. If you're serious."
"I am. I really am," he said quietly, looking at his fingers in his lap.
"Okay. You think rehab would be realistic for you?"
Gerard shook his head. "No, I. Unless I have to, unless you all want me to. I will, if you want."
"Then how about this? I've been talking to a few people with medical know-how. You can't just quit everything all at once, it could be dangerous for you-"
"No, Jerry. I'm done. No more, not fuckin' happenin'."
Jerry slammed a fist on the table. It made everyone jump, he was a placid guy and not even one to raise his voice too often. "Seizures sound good to you, huh? I know you're not hardcore into it, or I'd definitely have noticed, but it's a possibility if you don't do this slowly. I didn't get mad about you guys drinking, even though I don't. I didn't get mad about your pills, even though I don't take them. And when you woke me, incoherant and coked up to your eyeballs, I didn't get mad-I took care of you. Now, you're gonna listen, and if you're serious about getting clean you'll either do this or check in somewhere. There are no other options."
The others nodded quietly before Gerard whispered, "Okay. Sorry, Jerry. Sorry."
"It's fine, just thinking about what's best to move forward now. Drink and cocaine, you gotta stop that, completely. But I want you to keep taking the xanax, just when you need it to take the edge off, until you can do at least a little alright without it. Wean you off it. How's that sound?"
He looked around, the guys nodding in agreement, Mikey smiling weakly in encouragement. "I'll try?" He took a deep breath, "I'll try. I want to."
After their 'meeting' finished Gerard went back to lie down, to try and ignore the pounding in his head. He didn't want to take anything, not unless he had to. He'd felt like shit before, that wasn't anything new, but he'd never had the conflict in his head before. He knew where his stuff was, five minutes unguarded and he could feel so much better, make the ache go away-just for a little while. Just a little bit more.
It wasn't until his fingers stumbled on the zipper of his make up case that he noticed how unsteady he felt. He dug through, pulling things out and quietly setting them down so as not to make anyone aware of his actions. He found his little baggy, the emergency stash that wasn't really ever intended to be used because he never thought about running out. It was mainly in case he got stuck somewhere he couldn't get any or didn't have any.
The anticipation was killing him, making him feel sweaty and flushed at the thought of being caught, even though he physically wasn't, though part of him didn't care past feeling 'better'.
Stuffing the bag up his sleeve, Gerard made his way as inconspicuously as he could to the bathroom, not looking at anyone but trying his best to make it look like he wasn't ignoring them either. Just going to the bathroom.
Once inside he made a space on the counter underneath the mirror, pulling his stash from his sleeve and setting it down to take a few deep breaths to steady his hands enough to actually do it and not spill it all over the place. He touched the powder softly. Yeah, he thought. This is what they see. So white, so beautiful, so... So many things he'd never thought of it before. Never realized why anyone could make it seem like something to write pretty poetry about. It had power, a hold. But that in itself was it's power, he supposed. Something's always more beautiful when you really, really want it.
Catching a glimpse of reflection in the mirror, he looked up at it fully and took himself in. Messy hair, awful tired complexion. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes with a wince and when he opened them again he imagined Mikey standing behind him as he'd been earlier, chin hooked over his shoulder. The smile Mikey wore turned to a disappointed drown, and Gerard shook his head to make it go away. He didn't ever want to see that look again. Quickly, before the urge left him, he tipped the powder into the sink and turned the tap on, washing it away.
Evidently he didn't noticed the door open just enough for Mikey to slip through. The sudden sound of his voice made Gerard jump.
"I was about three seconds away from strangling you," he said flatly, but smiling, if a little cautiously. Wrapping his arms around his brother briefly, Mikey turned off the tap. "Proud of you, bro."
................
It wasn't easy, Gerard was on edge most of the time at first, having to be coerced into having any medication whenever he was shaky or anxious or couldn't quite hold his coffee steady. Nobody drank in front of him, not wanting to tempt or upset him, and he and Mikey shared a bunk every night; Gerard's sleep was fitful at best and he needed Mikey's warmth to remind him what he was doing, why he was doing it.
With no road left to travel, Bob dropped off in Chicago, and Brian meeting up with them, it was decided Gerard and Mikey would also go home for a while before the new tour-assuming it was still going ahead. Their parents were more than welcoming and understanding, but after one night spent in the basement he used to waste most of his time in growing up, Gerard realized that being surrounded by so much that reminded him of loneliness, failure and secret pain through school, wasn't the best idea right then. So Brian and their parents helped them find somewhere else to stay, a small house on Newark ave being rented out while the owners were on holiday. A few minutes walk from their parents. Donna helped them ferry over some sheets and clothes to make it more familiar for them, and Mikey brought comics and action figures.
There wasn't time to feel lonely there, their mom came over a lot, bringing food she'd cooked or leftovers for them. Bob called a few times and Ray and Frank came over with dvds so they could have marathon zombie watching nights. Mikey watched carefully over Gerard. He didn't want it to be obvious, he trusted his brother but couldn't help worry that something might set him off again, and being the one 'looking after' Gerard he didn't want to let him down like he felt he may have already. He monitored the intake of Gerard's pills, charting it on a calendar for both their benefits. He didn't watch Gerard take them after a couple of days, he wanted to spare him the nursemaid treatment as much as possible, and as long as Mikey had the bottle hidden he didn't have to worry.
Once Gerard had gotten down to half a bar in the morning and a whole one at night to help him sleep better, Mikey was more optimistic about things, felt like the end was in sight. Gerard was starting to draw things he was actually happy with, that he maybe wanted to put up on the wall while they were there. He started getting excited about the tour, being a band again, even though they never really weren't. It just felt different. But along with being excited came being worried that he wouldn't be able to do it, that he'd lose something special from their performance without at least a small drink to fuel him on. Mikey noticed tried to reassure him as much as he could that it'd be fine. That he just needed to get out and do it, get the first one over with and back into the groove, albeit a different one.
Mikey also noticed that his brother started getting anxious around lunchtime and late afternoon instead of the usual morning and evening routine at which time he'd hold off for an hour or so before taking his xanax; half to keep him good until nighttime and then one to get him to sleep. He wasn't sleeping properly either. For a couple of nights Mikey found him huddled up with a blanket at the foot of the bed, dishevelled and tired, like some kind of shell of a war vet, trembling and not eating properly. Nerves, Mikey thought. Hoped. He wondered if maybe Gerard needed another half in the morning or something, or if it was just what had to happen; another stage of his getting better, half a step back and then a couple forward-that was Mikey's hope. Otherwise the only thing he could think was that it was a real slip back, but Gerard hadn't asked for any extra pills-or stolen any, even though he knew full well where Mikey kept them.
Pulling his brother back up into the bed for what he hoped would be the last time, Mikey held him close and kissed his cheek, deciding they'd have to talk about upping the dose slightly in the morning.