Death Spells

On the day Frank died, Frank and Gerard had an argument. It hadn't been about anything major, but merely another petty row about Frank not cleaning out the waffle maker or something. Gerard couldn't even remember clearly, that's how insignificant it was. And yet it would forever haunt Gerard that the last time he ever saw Frank was as he stormed out the front door into the dark drizzle outside their apartment.

Gerard had wondered around town for a few hours, giving time for both himself and Frank to calm down. This wasn't uncommon. Usually when he arrived back they would both apologise profusely to each other and nine times out of ten it would lead to hot make up sex; something neither were really ever complaining about.

This time however, Gerard had unlocked the front door, walked a few steps into the hallway and then frozen in the kitchen doorway.

A flash of ice ran through his veins as his eyes took in the sight before him. He stepped forward slowly, taking care of where he put each step. The sound of glass shards crunching under his feet seemed almost too loud as they filled the empty apartment. The liquid which had escaped the smashed glass where Frank had dropped it was collected on the floor in a puddle where the kitchen linoleum had been slightly uneven. It had been that way since they had refurbished the kitchen a year or so ago. They had never bothered to complain because it was the little quirks they liked the most about their apartment; the small things that really made the place theirs, even if it was merely mismatched kitchen flooring.

Frank could have been asleep, Gerard thought. His eyes were shut and his fingers were curled limply at his side. His mouth was slack, and Gerard half expected a gentle almost inaudible snore to escape the others lips. Gerard stood waiting for the sound he was so used to hearing, but it never came. He didn't know how to explain it, but he just knew Frank wasn't really sleeping. There was something in the air, or rather there was something missing from the air. Everything felt too empty. Like someone had walked into his apartment and taken all his furniture.

Gerard wasn't really aware of reality, but at the same time was hyper aware of every move and sound he made. The cool wetness which brushed his fingers as he sunk to the ground sent goose bumps around his body, and his jeans grew damp almost instantly as he folded his legs underneath him in the puddle by Frank. He reached out to touch Franks arm. He was still warm. His fingers slid down Frank’s tattooed arm and came to rest at his wrist, where they searched hopelessly for a pulse.

Although Gerard hadn't been expecting one, his insides were still crushed with disappointment when they found nothing.

He was sure he was doing this wrong. He wasn't reacting the way you were supposed to when you came home to find your boyfriend dead on the kitchen floor. But yet, he didn't know how you were supposed to react. What was he supposed to do now? There was only one person he ever went to for advice or direction, and that person was currently lying on the floor before him. His skin was growing colder by the second, or perhaps it was minutes or hours. Gerard wasn't really sure. He seemed to be in some sort of limbo, living but not really aware of reality or the passing of time.

His hands brushed over Franks chest and up around his neck. Without thinking he pulled the others body closer. He was heavier than Gerard remembered.

Gerard brushed a few strands of black hair out if Franks face. Gerard wanted Frank to open his eyes. He wanted Frank to see him one more time. He wanted to see Frank one more time. Everything had all happened so fast. If he had known this was going to happen he never would have -

Gerard had been telling Frank that he should go to the hospital. Had been badgering him constantly over and over that his cough was getting worse and worse and he should really get it sorted. But Frank had brushed him off every time arguing that it was just another cold and he would be fine in a few days. Of course this argument was more often than not ruined by the fact Frank was having to wheeze it in between coughing fits. Gerard had agreed to let Frank off though, because he felt guilty about making Frank worry about the cost of the medicines and complain about the hospitals lack of vegetarian options. And now Frank was dead. He was dead because Gerard hadn't cared for him well enough.

Eventually, as Gerard's shaky fingers hovered over Franks face, his eyes and his mouth, reality slowly began to dawn upon him. Frank was dead. This wasn't a joke or a dream. They had argued and he had left Frank alone even though Frank had been particularly sick that day, that whole week actually. His coughing fits had been more common than usual, and Frank had a terrible fever. And yet Gerard had still left him alone. And now he was dead.

The first few traces of tears began to trickle down his cheeks. His shaky fingers came up to feel his skin, but the salty dribbles merely merged with the beads of water already on his fingers from the water on the ground. The water Frank had probably been in the middle of drinking when he collapsed.

A sudden bout of sickness hit Gerard with force, and he only had enough time to twist away from Frank before he was retching violently, although nothing made its way up. The tears were coming stronger as his mind fogged over. He pulled Franks body closer and sobbed into the limp crook of his neck.

Time past in a haze as he tried desperately to hold on to the small amount of warmth left within Frank’s body. That faded all too soon, leaving Gerard with nothing more than the stone cold body of a person that wasn't even there anymore. Still, Gerard couldn't seem to let go. Couldn't get the tears to stop or the fog to fade. At one point, he vaguely noticed something around him. Something he might have thought was trying to sooth him, whisper something. But it was gone before Gerard really had a chance to pay all that much attention amidst his grief.

He must have been sitting on the cold kitchen floor with Franks limp body in his arms all night, because suddenly there was someone knocking at the door. It took Gerard a confused minute to realise that it was his brother here to pick him up for work. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to move. Couldn't bring himself to raise his head from where it was lying on the too quiet chest of his long gone love.

Eventually, after banging many times and howling out Gerard's name, Mikey had let himself in using the spare key. He barely managed to yell out "What the fuck, Gerard-" before he walked by the kitchen doorway and stopped short. The sight of his brother hunched over Franks limp body had left him confused at first, and then shocked as realisation dawned in him.

He walked over quickly, panicked. The floor was now dry, although still littered with the remains of glass. Mikey crouched down next to Gerard and rested his hand on his brothers shaking shoulder. Gerard finally managed to force his head up to face Mikey. The completely broken and empty sadness in his brother’s eyes had punched the air from his chest immediately and Mikey didn't know what to say, so instead he pulled his brother closer.

Gerard gently rested Franks body down on the kitchen floor and shuffled closer to his brother. He was grateful for the heat, for the sound of a rhythmical heartbeat under his ear. It helped him relax to know that even if his world may have been drained of life, there was still at least one remaining tether beating in the darkness. Something to keep him grounded while everything else felt as though it was burning in ice cold flames around him.

"Shhh," Mikey soothed, rubbing one hand along his brothers back, "It will be okay." He wants to say more. He wants to fix everything that's happening. He wants to mend the broken part of Gerard he'd seen in his brother’s eyes. But he doesn't know what to say to do that, so instead he leaves it with the one simple statement.

All Gerard manages to croak in return is a very sad, "no it won't." Mikey just nods, because he doesn't know what else to do.