You Put the Spike in My Heart

It was admittedly unsettling to see a figure hunched on the ground in a cemetery in the middle of the night. Gerard had seen way too many horror flicks not to feel apprehensive as he approached. He wasn't sure if he had expected to find Bailey or not, but there she was and he was alarmed to see that her whole body was shaking.
He dropped his bouquet and immediately went to her, but as soon as his hand reached her she jumped in fright.

"Gerard!"

The moon was full and so bright that she recognized him easily. She tried to rub at her eyes but her hands were shaking too much to do her any good.

"What time is it?"

"Almost one in the morning."

She moaned and cursed hoarsely as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Why is it so damn cold out here?"

Gerard gave her a concerned look before pulling off his jacket and draping it around her shoulders.

"No, you'll freeze!"

"Bailey, stop."

He pulled the jacket tighter around her small frame as he sat down in front of her.

"It's a pleasant seventy degrees outside. You're having withdrawls."

Bailey blushed. Suddenly she was reminded of why she had been avoiding him, her embarrassment and unexplainable shame surfacing instantaneously. She made sure to keep her eyes back toward the road. She didn't want him to see her in such a vulnerable state, not with that penetrating gaze of his.

"I thought Bert was supposed to keep everyone away."

"I slipped out while he wasn't looking. If you want me to leave -"

"No!"

Her shout echoed in the otherwise empty graveyard. She released his arm as soon as she realized she had grabbed onto it.

"I mean...you don't have to leave."

She didn't want to be alone but she didn't know why. Her anti-social behavior was becoming almost non-existent and she wasn't sure if it was helping or making things worse.

"Everyone's worried about you."

Her head drooped a bit, eyes searching his fleetingly before growing shy again.

"I didn't mean to stay so late."

The tone of her voice was small and resentful. This was hardly the condition Gerard expected to find her in. He honestly thought that if he did find her, she would be on a mellow high or drunk and stumbling. Instead, the woman in front of him was stripped of all of her defenses. No drugs, no booze, no sarcasm, no hostility, no walls. Though he could see she was trying.
But it made him hopeful...

"Is that why you came? To see if I was okay?"

He waited for her to look at him before giving her a reassuring smile. He then reached behind him to grab the flowers he had dropped and handed them to her.

"I also came to pay my respects."

They were a mix of roses, lilies and baby's breath. All white in color, they seemed to almost glow in the moonlight. Bailey smiled thoughtfully, not noticing the few tears that had escaped down her face.

"They're beautiful. Thank you, she would have loved them."

She placed them at the head of the stone with her own flowers.

"I should get you back to the buses."

"I still have to pack."

"No need. Bam packed your things."

Bailey gave him a horrified look that he tried hard not to laugh at.

"April helped."

"Thank God."

He chuckled softly and helped her to her feet. Before following, she ran her hand across the top of the grave-stone in farewell. The look on her face shattered Gerard's heart. He wanted to hold her hand, to wrap his arms around her; anything to comfort her even a little bit. But she made it impossible, keeping her distance from him the whole way to the car.

~*~

The entire ride home was a struggle. To keep from vomiting, to keep from shaking so much that her teeth chattered, to keep her heart from beating out of her chest and to keep from looking at his face. The silence was unnerving. Bert's and Frank's suggestion to talk to Gerard about her problems was an involuntary nagging in the back of her mind. Why did they think talking to him would do any good? Her brain was too muddled to think about it anymore.
The half-hour trip felt like forever until they pulled up next to the tour buses.

"Thank you for driving me back. I don't know if I would have been able to make the trip on my own."

"It's no problem."

He handed her the car keys after they stepped out of the car and he waited as she eyed the black windows of the bus with reproach. As nervous and unsettled as she was feeling around Gerard, she still didn't want to be left alone. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to ask him.

"Would you mind keeping me company for a little bit?"

She couldn't help but wince as she asked, ready for his immediate decline. To her surprise he nodded in agreement and headed to the bus, opening the door for her and following on her heels.
Upon entering, Bailey switched on the dim kitchen light and started searching through the cupboards.

"Do you mind if I have a drink?"

"As much as I hate to admit, it might be a good idea."

Gerard was growing increasingly worried. Even in a hoodie and his leather jacket she was shivering like it was below zero. When she started to spill the vodka on the counter instead of in her glass he decided to take over. Grabbing the bottle, he grudgingly poured with one hand and held her steady and close with the other. Bailey hid her face in her hands, feeling humiliated.

"I'm a mess."

She regretted inviting him on the bus. She couldn't believe how much worse she was making everything.

"It's okay. Come on."

He helped her to a seat and then sat across from her. Bailey took slow, steady sips even though she wanted to guzzle down the whole glass. If it were anyone else sitting in front of her she probably would have. Why did she care so much about what he thought of her? She couldn't concentrate. The memory of her mother, the nostalgic smell of Gerard's jacket, standing up to her father, the overwhelming withdrawls, the incessant pounding of her heart...it was too much. She felt like she was going to fall to pieces at any second.

But for some reason at that moment, her main worry was him. He watched her with patient, caring eyes. But every time she raised the glass to her lips she expected to see that reaction that had been haunting her the past few days.

"So are you?"

He gave her an inquisitive look. Of course he didn't know what she was asking, making Bailey feel even more ridiculous.

"Are you...repulsed by me?"

"Of course not."

She hadn't really expected him to go right out and say it, but she was a bit taken off guard by the surprise in his voice.

"Why not?"

Gerard scoffed but leaned across the table to explain, sliding her almost empty glass to the side.

"I know what it's like to lose family. Someone you love, someone you were close to."

Her eyes dropped and she started to pick at her nails. Was this why the boys wanted her to talk to him? It was a nice try, but almost everyone in this world had lost someone. What made him so special? But she started to noticeably grow warm. Maybe it was the alcohol...maybe she was hesitant to have this conversation.

"I also know what it's like to want to get rid of that pain by any means necessary. To make it go away, if only for a few hours. Whether or not it means hurting people in the process."

She was mistaken. This was why they had pushed her to talk to him. When they had mentioned it, they had spoken of it as if it were obvious. But she didn't know anything about Gerard before she had met him. She never followed the lives of celebrities. If possible, she felt even more embarrassed. And now his eyes had taken on a distant look. He was seeing the past. She hated to see the pain in his eyes, she needed to make it go away.

"But you're clean now."

He nodded and smiled, back to the present. She was glad of it but couldn't help but shake her head indignantly.

"You really don't have to do this."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to be so understanding. You're all killing me with how nice you're being. I was so horrible to all of you. I don't deserve any of it. I'm weak."

"I know I don't have to understand, but I do. The reason doesn't matter, I care and I want to help you in any way that I can."

Her face was in her hands again, only this time she was choking back tears.

"And you're not weak. Everyone thought for sure you had taken off to get more drugs this morning."

Though a cynical one, it got a small laugh out of her.

"By the state you're in, I assume you didn't take anything. The fact that you're fighting it at all proves to me that you're not weak."

"It's just so hard. I didn't mean to let it get this far."

"We never do. You just need to try and remember that you're surrounded by people that want to help."

"I know." She answered in barely above a whisper as she shrugged off his jacket. He could barely register a tremble out of her anymore.

"May I?" Gerard asked as he held out his hands. Bailey cautiously complied, putting her hands in his. He kept only one of them and started to roll back her sleeve, watchful of her reaction to make sure he wasn't overstepping his bounds.

"How did you know?" She asked before he could bring her wrist to the light.

"The arm-warmers were a bit obvious. And the hoodies in hot weather..." He trailed off as he traced the vertical scar with deft fingers, making her shiver. She couldn't take her eyes from his face. He wore a pained expression again, only this time it was for her.

"I did it right after her funeral. I waited until all was taken care of and then tried to follow her. Bam knows, and poor Franky thinks it was just some random act of self mutilation. I wanted to die."

"Bailey -"

"Can I trust you, Gerard?"

He was caught off guard by the question. Bailey didn't know why she was doing this, why she was spilling her heart out to this man that she barely knew...but it seemed almost impossible to stop. She really didn't need to ask, she did trust him. But the reason why was beyond her.

"Yes, you can trust me."

Before she knew it, she was lifting her sleeve higher to reveal more scars. Track marks from needles.

"They think this is my second time quitting. It's my third. No one knows about this."

He couldn't help but feel a little bewildered at what she entrusted to him.

"Gerard, I'm scared. I don't want to be a junkie anymore. I'm more than that, aren't I? I want to be happy again, but I don't remember how. The drugs may have made everything go away but they also brought about a darkness with them. I don't want to depend on that just to make it through the day. That's not living. I don't want to relapse, it scares me to death. I don't want to be left in the dark."

Her eyes were large and terrified, looking almost like a frightened child. Gerard slowly rolled her sleeve back down and clasped her hand in both of his.

"It's going to be okay."

He held her desperate look and traced soothing circles into the flesh of her hand.

"I'm not going to let you hurt yourself anymore."