You Taught Me Love

Mikey's P.O.V.

“He hung himself,” I told my brother, as softly as I possibly could.
My fingers curled on his shoulder to stop it from shuddering so much, but it seemed determined to keep imitating an earthquake on Gerard's body.

“F-fucker,” he breathed. At first I thought he was talking to me, but I realized he had barely muttered it; it wasn't meant for me to hear. He ripped the letter madly, in four unsymmetrical pieces, before letting them fall gracelessly on the blue carpet.

“Are you okay, Gerard?”
What a stupid question to ask, Micheal...

He didn't answer, I think mostly because he didn't hear. He was in another world.
His head suddenly jerked up and his eyes flashed, as if he were remembering something important, and soon he was running to his bedroom. Hailey and I followed him and my heart almost stopped at what I saw he had just gotten out of his closet.

Gerard was on his knees in front of his bed, where lay an old metallic box the size of a dictionary, with the word «Artwork» carved on the top between two roses. I had seen it before, I knew what would be pulled out of the box, and it certainly wasn't artwork.

“No!” I cried out as I rushed to him and tried pushing the case away, but it was too late. The lid was taken off, and the gun was held safely in his hands.
My vision blurred as I struggled to pry it from him, but I knew it was useless as I felt him shove me to the floor.

“Gerard,” I winced, despairing.

He looked down at the weapon, and for a second I was certain that I was about to lose my brother forever as I felt my body freeze in horror, but then he opened his window and threw the gun out in the city, with rage and a distorted scream. My relief and surprise were strong, but short-lived as I saw him fall to the floor in a painful noise, burying his face in his hands as he started tearing up.

“The b-bastard!” his weak voice spat out through his frantic breathing, loud enough for only us both to hear. “How could he do that to me! I don't need this! I didn't want to know, and I... I didn't want him to... Fuck!”
I knelt down next to him, rubbing his back tentatively, and he let me. I could hear him mumble something that sounded a bit like «Frank», but honestly more like «F...Fr-uh...An-h-k...»
I turned to Hailey, still in the doorway, and mouthed to her to call Frank. She nodded and ran off to the telephone.

“Gerard?” I spoke to him in what I wanted to be a reassuring voice. “You okay? I'm sorry. I didn't want to have to do this...I'm, uh.”
This wasn't good. I always knew what to say to comfort my brother, always. Well, almost always, I guess.
I really didn't know what to say this time, and that wasn't a good sign.

“Shouldn't you be... “ I started, looking for the right word to use. Happy? No. Relieved? No.
“Glad?” I tried, in lack of anything better, but I regretted it immediately. It wasn't what I meant.

Surprisingly, he didn't react too much to what I had just said, he just shook his head sadly in his tear-covered hands.
“I don't know, Mikes... He was... Well, I didn't want him to die! I didn't want him to kill himself!” he choked out, and the end of the sentence seemed to hurt him deeply.

“Oh God...” he spoke, in a worn out voice that shook harder than his body, scaring me to my core. “Gosh, it's all my fault! And I... I-I... Do you know what my last words to him were? «Goodbye forever, you pi-piece of... you piece of shit!» A-and... He... How could he fucking do that to me?!”

His hands were now covering his mouth, but weren't much of a barrier to the desperate sobs that rose in his throat, cutting right to my heart. His eyes were wild, wide opened and wetter than a river, filled with a certain urgency that was far from reassuring. His face was pale as death, slowly turning to a frightening shade of green.
Shit, another panic attack. He used to get those a lot before.

Fucking Steve... Gerard suffered too much for him. My brother never deserved this shit.

“Everything is gonna be alright...” I told him, in a pitiful and unsuccessful attempt to calm him down before the situation got out of hand.

“What are you talking about, Micheal?!” he now yelled, although the noise was closer to a screech than anything else. “He's dead! I don't think it's «gonna be fucking alright» for him!!!”

“Calm down...”

“CALM DOWN? HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?!”
I grabbed him forcefully by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes as I immobilized him in front of me.

“Sorry,” he squealed.

“Gerard... You're having a panic attack. We don't want you to pass out again, do we?”

He shook his head frenetically from side to side, still hyperventilating.

“Deep breaths, Gerard.”
I tried to remember everything the doctor had told me to do when this happened...

He breathed faster.

“Gerard. Slow. In and out.”

He slowed down after a while, getting tipsy and holding shakily onto my arm.

“Hailey's calling Frank. You're gonna be fine.”

He nodded, blinking.

“We're here for you.”

He nodded again, this time actually calming down. A little.

“Breathe with me, come on. Inhale... Exhale...”

He breathed in time with my motions, looking at me intently.

“Good. Again. Inhale... Exhale... Want me to go get some water?”

He shook his head no.

“Hold my hand.”

He threw himself onto me and wrapped his arms tight around my back. I squeezed his heavy body against mine as I whispered, “You're gonna be fine.”

Frank's P.O.V.

I was waiting on the bed, next to my cellphone for him to call, when it finally rang and made me jump.

“Hey babe,” I said in a seductive tone, smiling as I held onto my phone like it was the most precious thing I had ever owned. “Wanna mess around today?”

A girlish giggle sounded through the machine; not the answer I had expected, but I would make that change.

“What? I want you, Gerard...” I growled, just like I knew made him crazy for me.

“Frank,” a female chuckled at the end of the line, “it's Hailey.”

“Oh, I-I... Um.”
I blushed madly, stuttering as I realized what she had just heard.

“You're something, Frankie.”

“Well, it's Gerard's number showing here, so what the heck are you doing at his place?” I asked her, accusingly.

“You got to get you ass here as soon as possible,” she told me, but she wasn't joking anymore. “I'm serious. Gerard needs you right now...”

I sat upright on my bed, gripping tighter on my cellphone. I was getting worried now.
“What happened?”

“Steve killed himself. Gerard didn't exactly take it very well.”

“Oh. I'll be there. Thanks.”

“Bye, Frank.”

“Hm. Bye.”

For some reason, I wasn't surprised at all. When I had met Steve, he had seemed... not well.
I can't say I had expected him to commit suicide, but it didn't surprise me.

They should have called me sooner, though.
I promised Gerard I would always be there for him, and that was one promise I truly wanted to keep.

I speed-walked to the front door and grabbed my wallet, screaming toward the kitchen, “I'm going out!”