It's Not That Easy

"Why won't you let us help?"

"Because I want to do this by myself!"

"You're making it that much harder on yourself."

"I want to do this by myself!" I stormed off to the bunks, and plopped myself onto mine. I pulled the curtain across viciously and stared at the bottom of the bunk above me, fuming.

I could do this by myself, I didn't need their help; I didn't need anyone's help! I saw a shadow in my periphery and scowled.

The shadow opened the curtain and sat down next to my knees on my flimsy mattress. "Gerard?" he asked timidly.

"What?" I asked flatly, not looking at him and resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Frank would be the first back here to see to me, of course he would. My anger ebbed a little. He was always there for me...but I wanted to do this by myself! Why couldn't anyone understand that?

"Gerard, could you look at me?" Frank asked quietly.

I reluctantly turned my head toward him.

"If you won't let all of us help you, will you at least let me help you?"

I sighed and turned back away from Frank. "I want to do this by myself," I repeated through gritted teeth.

Frank just sighed and stood up, kissing me lightly on the cheek before walking back to the front of the bus.

I pulled the curtain back across my bunk and ran my fingers through my through my long, black hair. I don't know what kept Frank with me; he was so good to me and I was such an asshole to him.



Ugh. I awoke a couple days later, the morning after a show, with a pounding headache and a turning stomach. I opened my eyes and tried to rub my eyes, but one of my arms was immovable. I looked over to my arm and saw Frank sleeping on top of my arm, and I didn't think I could free my arm without waking Frank up.

I groaned quietly and ran my free hand over my face. I could deduce that I got much too drunk last night - before or after the show, I don't remember - and I didn't even know if I took Frank back to the bus by myself or if he climbed in with me after I had passed out. Shit.

My stomach continued to turn in my belly, and I was feeling worse. Not wanting to have to clean the bus later, I wrenched my arm out from under Frank's sleeping form and stumbled into the miniscule bathroom. I fell down on my knees in front of the toilet and began to retch violently.

I didn't even hear Frank come in, but I knew that it was him who had come in and held my hair out of my face a few minutes later. He said nothing, not even after my stomach had stopped turning and my retching stopped, or while he helped me change into clothes that weren't dripped in sick. When all was said and done, Frank just kissed me on the cheek again and left the tiny bathroom.

I didn't need a mirror to know that I looked like shit, but that was nothing compared to the way I felt. I knew that I had crossed the line this time with my stunts of last night, and if there was one thing in my life that I could never stand to lose, it was Frank. So I had to set this right. I knew what I had to do, and I didn't like it because I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I had to do it because I never wanted to lose Frank.

I took a deep breath, swallowed whatever pride I had left in me this morning, and walked back to the bunks. The curtain to mine was drawn, and I knew Frank was behind it, his back to the the curtain. I drew it back silently and saw Frank crying, trying to muffle the sound of his tears with a pillow.

I sat down on the bunk softly and prodded Frank in the back. "Frankie?"

He stopped crying, but didn't turn to face me.

"Frankie, please?" I said.

He sniffed and rolled over. His hazel eyes were bloodshot, and his face was red from crying. "Yes?"

I took another deep breath. "Frankie...I want to get better."

He smiled sadly and leaned up to kiss me sweetly. "I love you, Gerard."

I smiled back at him and took his face in my hands to kiss him back. "I love you too, Frankie. That's why I'm doing this. For you. I want to see you happy again, and that will happen when I'm better."

"Thank you, Gerard," Frank whispered, hugging me tightly.