Butane and Bullets

Eventually, wiping away their respective tears, they laid side by side on the carpet, Gerard curling up and Frank stretching out. Frank was the one who spoke out first.

"Mikey said you went straight to bed."
"I went straight to my room and did that just there; cried. Then I went to bed."
"Why did you run away from them; your family?"

Gerard hesitated before he gave his answer, mainly because he was searching for it.

"I don't really know. I wanted to be strong for them, let them know I was okay."
"I think you just worried them more, dude. Mikey was really scared. He said you barely spoke."
"It just didn't feel right, them all gathered round like that. It was too much too soon. ...I'll apologise tomorrow. Sit down and talk to them properly."
"I'm sure they'll understand. I do."

He couldn't see it, but Gerard turned his head to smile at him.
"Thanks, man."

The next time Frank spoke his voice was soft and tentative, unwilling to push for too much too fast. He couldn't bear it if Gerard ran from him as well.
"...Did you see them hit?"

The quiet was punctured by Gerard's sharp intake of break. The harrowing images fought to the forefront of his mind and he knew that this time he didn't have the luxury of suppressing them again. He let the breath out slowly before answering.

"No. It had already happened when I got there. We knew something had happened before we got off the train. People were receiving calls from home. My phone had no reception but I was listening in to other people's conversations. It was hard to make out the details but you could catch enough to know that something was seriously wrong. We got off at Hoboken and they wouldn't let us off the terminal. You could see it. So clearly. I mean it was just across the shortest part of the river. It just didn't feel real. I felt like I was in some sort of science fiction disaster movie."
"That's what it looked like on TV. If Mum hadn't been so scared when I got in from work I'd have just assumed it was a fucked up movie of some kind."
"It was so loud. Just noise. Noise everywhere." Gerard shook his head as if to dislodge the memory of sound from his ears. "People crying, getting hysterical, asking questions. The sirens. I was right at the edge of the railing, one of the people on the terminal closest. I mean, that train's supposed to run straight to the towers for fuck's sake. There were people standing behind me who had been on the train on their way to fucking work."
"Fuck... That must have been difficult to hear. They must have been so worried."

It made Frank's little panic attack whilst scrolling through the contacts in his cell phone seem like a walk in the park.

"That wasn't the worst part."
Frank remained silent, simply waiting for Gerard to continue.
"I was there when the buildings went down."
"...I didn't see that happen. I was out in the yard looking at the skyline. I didn't realise until afterwards that one of the buildings I thought I was looking at was already a pile of rubble."
"That's when shit got worse. So many people behind me just erupted; so much emotion. The screams... I thought it had been noisy before, but it was nothing compared to the screams. And the sound of those buildings collapsing one after the other, floor after floor after floor... it was deafening, Frank. Being around that much emotion was physical painful. I felt so sick. Just bile in my throat that wouldn't wash away."

"Gerard..." Frank's arm reached wildly in the dark to grip Gerard's shoulder, who placed his hand atop the one holding him. He noticed absentmindedly that Frank smelt faintly of pot. It was oddly soothing and made him crave a smoke himself. "You must have been so fucking scared."

Gerard shook his head, noting that his eyes were still wet with emotion.
"Not for me. I was just scared for all the other people on the platform who had friends and family in there. There was one woman who ripped her wedding ring off and threw it into the river. She just kept calling this guy's cell, screaming every time it went to voicemail and trying again as if it would have changed."
"Office romance?"
"Most likely. And it was romance, for sure. It wasn't just fucking; not to her. She was destroyed, just praying he'd gotten out. It was people like her who I was afraid for. No one I knew was stuck in there, thank fuck. I was just standing by, witnessing the destruction."

The light flicked on and Frank squinted his eyes to adjust from the darkness, but Gerard blinked up with tearful orbs as if the room had been illuminated the whole time. Mikey was stood in the doorway, finger still on the switch, eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his brother and friend lying face to face on the carpet of their lounge, hands linked on Gerard's shoulder. Gerard shot up into a sitting position and opened his arms immediately.

"Mikes."

Not missing a beat Mikey came forward, dropping to his knees and into his brother's offered embrace. It brought a smile to Frank's face and another fresh batch of tears to his eyes when the Way brothers drew back and beckoned him into the hug as well. The three boys sat on the floor for a good number of minutes simply gripping each other and breathing in the scent of solidarity.

When they released each other sheepishly, Mikey began to ask about the day's events, and the two boys caught him up to speed until Gerard could no longer contain the apology that was threatening to burst out at the seams.
"Mikey, I'm so sorry about earlier. I was such a dick and none of you deserved that. You just wanted to know I was okay and I should have dealt with it better."
"No, bro. No. You were entitled to act however the fuck you want as long as you were alive. I'm just glad you could open up to someone" he said, casting a grateful grin in Frank's direction. "I don't care that it was none of us."
"Yeah." Gerard smiled. "I'm glad you were here, Frank. I only came upstairs to- ...fuck, I left the coffee on!"

He left the room in a whirlwind of pyjamas towards the kitchen and left Frank and Mikey laughing.

"I'm sorry for giving you a bit of a rough ride on the phone this afternoon. I'm really glad you came. He might've clammed up for weeks if you hadn't been here when he was ready to talk. Thanks Frank, honestly."
"No sweat, man. I was just in the right place at the right time. Like you guys I just wanted him to be alright."
"Well I really appreciate it."

When Gerard returned to the room he was concentrating on the three cups he had clutched between both hands.
"Frank, I didn't know what you drink so I made you a white coffee with one sugar. That okay?"
"That's great, but for uhh, for future notice though? Mine's a black with two."

He winked up at Gerard as the mug transferred from one hand to the other, Gerard laughing nervously.
"Next time, huh?"

Mikey smiled to himself as he watched his brother's lips stretch into a toothy grin, a genuine one. Gerard had always been prone to bouts of depression. He suspected that this time Frank might cushion the blows if he stuck around.

Between sips of hot coffee the topic of conversation returned to the twin towers and the atmosphere once again grew sombre.

"How'd you get home, G?" Mikey asked.

Gerard inhaled in a measured manner as he remembered.

"They were shuttling people straight back on the trains for free. They just wanted to get people the fuck out of there I guess. The train ride was pretty crazy." No one else spoke, once again giving Gerard free reign to vent his emotions. "You could tell it had affected every single person on that train. No one came away nonchalantly, happy they didn't have to go to work or whatever. If I had to choose one word to describe the journey I'd probably say... evaluative."
"Evaluative?" Frank prompted, taking another sip from his cup and watching Gerard above the rim.

"Yeah. Like... just assessing what this means to everyone, both personally and on a wider scale. I mean you tell me, what does this mean for America? The world, even? What the fuck does any of it mean?"
"To me it means 'be fucking afraid'..." Mikey put in.
"Exactly, right? Is the world just gonna be full of fear from now on? Like, okay, you hit the World Trade Centres. Where next?"

Frank gestured with his hand whilst finishing his mouthful of coffee.
"Did you hear they hit the pentagon too?"
"On the news reports I was watching before you came downstairs. You know what I mean, though? If people can orchestrate something like this doesn't it make you wonder what's gonna happen in the future; what else some terrorists decide to fuck up?"

The other two boys nodded solemnly, pensively gazing into their cups.

"That's not all people were talking about on the train though. Not just evaluating how the world will change, but how they themselves are gonna change. We were all so damn close to that destruction that I guess it sort of pounded home the idea that we are finite. I'm gonna die, you're gonna die Frank, and my little baby brother Mikey is gonna die. Now personally, it's not the dying part that I'm worried about. There's nothing I can do to change my death. ...But there is stuff I can change about my life. Like, what am I doing with my life right now, really? Tell 'im, Mikey. What is your big brother G doing with his life?"

Eyebrow raising anxiously, Mikey turned his head to Frank and answered the question, not really sure where this was going.
"My brother's currently an intern at Cartoon Network trying to get a cartoon commissioned."

"And what is this cartoon about, Michael? Tell the man."
"It's about...a monkey?"

Mikey was relieved that Frank's facial expression mirrored his own in its confusion and concern.

"Well done, Mikey, gold star. I'm trying to make a cartoon about a fucking monkey. Tell me how that will help anyone. Really. Because I don't think that's fucking helping anything or anyone. I don't wanna be that way. I don't want my life and all my life's work to be fucking pointless and of no use to anybody. That's what it is right now, and I'm done with it."
"Gerard, you're a great artist, don't throw that away" Mikey cautioned.
"Yeah, man, I saw that comic you did. It was great." Frank added.
"Yeah. It's so great that they cancelled it after only two issues, and they didn't even get my fucking name right. I'm not sure if either of you have noticed but my name is not fucking Garry."

The other two erupted into giggles that they couldn't suppress quick enough. They didn't mean to laugh while Gerard was clearly trying to express something... but seriously; Garry.

"The number of people on that train who were already making drastic changes to their lives, or planning to, was just crazy. There were guys calling up their girlfriends and proposing. Others deciding that they were gonna get out of relationships that were making them miserable. People quitting their jobs... it was pretty inspirational. I walked home from Newark, just thinking. Thinking about how I've gotta change my life too."
"So you're gonna quit your job? Yeah, that seems like a real fucking good idea" stated Mikey, no longer laughing but voice dripping with acid sarcasm. "You're taking a step in the right direction by making yourself a bum, you go right ahead."

Gerard's eyes narrowed. Neither of them were really getting it. Mikey even less so. At least Frank was keeping any sarcastic comments to himself rather than tearing his epiphany down to the ground. However much he tried to explain it to them, they'd never really understand what it had been like to be on that train amongst so much personal revolution. Gerard didn't know exactly what he was going to do besides the fact that it wasn't what he was doing currently. A cartoon about a monkey was not gonna make a difference to people's lives. Now he just had to find something that would. He got to his feet.

"I think I'm gonna head back down and hit the hay. You're quite welcome to come back to your own room tonight if you want to; you too Frank, if you wanna grab the blankets and stuff."
Frank nodded, and noted that Mikey was still staring listlessly at the bottom of his mug. He stopped Gerard just as he was leaving the room.

"Wait."
"What?"
"Are you serious? About quitting your job and stuff?"
"Yeah, man. Fuck art." He seemed to mull that over, then, liking the way it tasted on his tongue. "Fuck art."

On that note he left, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Frank couldn't help but smile too, although he wasn't sure why, before turning his attention back to Mikey, who spoke without having to be asked.

"I'm not actually against it. I'm just worried that the backlash from this is gonna fuck up his future. If he leaves cartoon network now they'll probably never take him back. And I don't care what he says. He doesn't really mean it when he says 'fuck art'. He loves it. Everyone knows, everyone sees. He's a fucking genius. I just don't want him to waste it for nothing, you know?"
"Well..." Frank mused. "It might not be for nothing. He is a genius. So have some faith in whatever he comes up with next."

Mikey looked up into Frank's eyes then, and upon viewing the honesty that rested there, he decided that the younger boy was perhaps the wisest in this situation. ...How irritating. Frank tapped his arm then, before rising to his feet.

"Come on. Let's go clear up the study."