My Favorite Part Was Dying

"Hey," Mikey said quietly.

"Hi," Gerard muttered. He felt so guilty for letting himself ignore his brother's death, even if it was just for one evening. Felt guilty to feel happy. He sat awkwardly on his bed, staring at the floor.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Gerard asked, confused.

"Don't feel guilty. I'm glad that you could forget about everything for a little while." Mikey said. Gerard felt his brother's eyes begging to meet his. He finally looked up. Mikey's eyes were glazed, as if by tears but he was being sincere.

"I mean it. It's okay," he whispered. Gerard looked down again. This was almost worse than feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt on his own. The was Mikey was giving Gerard permission to forget him, selflessly, even though it hurt him so much.

Tears filled Gerard's eyes. "Why did you have to go?" he whispered. Gerard caught his brother's eyes, then they both looked away again, tears dripping down their faces.

"I couldn't stay anymore, you know that." Mikey murmured. Gerard nodded, he knew, but he still couldn't accept it. He wiped at his tears furiously, his normally pale cheeks flushed pink. He looked up at Mikey again.

"Why did you tell them?" Micheal asked. Gerard shrugged and sighed.

"I couldn't help it. I couldn't lie to 'em. What would you have done?" Mikey stood there silently, thinking. Finally he shook his head, still not saying anything.

"What? What would you have done?" Gerard asked again. They stared at one another until Mikey disappeared once again.

"DAMMIT! GODDAMMIT! MIKEY, COME BACK!" Gerard yelled, anger poisoning him. The door banged open and his mother and father ran in.

"Gerard -- w-what?" Donna asked. Her bleached blond hair was frazzled and her eyes were puffy and red despite her pathetic attempt at hiding it with makeup. Gerard just looked from her to his father, despising them both. He didn't even know why.

"Gerard!" Donald said. He rushed over to his son's side and grabbed his arm. "What's wrong, Gee?" He pushed his father off, anger and hatred still coursing through him.

"He just keeps leaving...." Gerard murmured to himself as he put some distance between himself and his concerned parents.

"What did you say?" his mother asked. Gerard shook his head frantically.

Shit, I said that out loud. No, no. Dammit!

"Gerard, what's going on?" Donald asked his son. Gerard wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head again.

"N-Nothing, I just, I miss him..." he said quietly, hoping they would accept his explanation and assume his screaming had just been grief. They looked at him, their faces etched with lines of worry. They tried to look in his eyes, he could tell. But he wouldn't let them. If they saw what was in his eyes, they would know.

* * *

Maybe they had seen the burning in his eyes because there he was, trapped and alone. Completely and utterly alone.

And in this moment I can't close the lids
On burning eyes.
Our memories blanket us with friends we know,
Like fallout vapors...