Épousez-moi, Restez la Même Chose

The bed was empty. A great, gaping hollow space seeped cold into Gerard's back as he huddled up under the covers and tried to focus on how bright the moon looked tonight. On how the sky around it seemed to glow and fade away into infinite black with strategically placed dots of glitter. As an artist, Gerard trained himself to look at objects first in 2-D to judge how they would transter onto paper, whether the dimensions were worth attempting. The moon...the moon was something he wouldn't try. If only for fear of creating a circle without meaning. It wasn't a sphere with squiggles marked into it, it had a face and it had an attitude and it had an aura around it that pulled in the most stubborn of stars. It was irresistable.

And he was really only trying to distract himself with quanderies about things that he should leave to the fucking poets. Sometimes he made himself feel conceited, thinking that he understood what persona the moon had taken on. Thinking that the sea liked to rock out to Fleetwood Mac in its off time during the low tide. He didn't understand the nature like he wanted to. But then again, he didn't understand a lot of things like he wanted to.

He didn't understand why wiL got so upset, for example. It didn't seem like that big of a deal that he lied a little about his job. Right now, he wasn't in a band, he really was just a comic book writer. That was his job in his time off, and, coincidentally, this was his time off. So no, he didn't lie. And wiL should get over it.

Gerard sat up, groaning and stretching his arms despite only being in bed for an hour. He didn't feel like sleeping right now, his mind was jittering around in his skull and his hands were twitching. The moon was starting to get too bright and he was thinking about tacking some blankets to the windows. His phone was laying on the bedside table and he stretched out over the bed, over the empty side where wiL should have been, to retrieve it and call Mikey again.

That's what he did when he had a crisis. Call someone.

Mikey picked up on the third ring, which was odd for Mikey because Gerard knew he always had his phone in his pocket.

"Gerard, help. My wife is on the phone with yours and they are being really bitchy about this whole thing."

Gerard winced for his brother. At least he didn't have to be downstairs hearing the things that were being said about him. He could stay up here and pretend that his sister-in-law wasn't evil and wasn't trying to wreck his marriage before he was even legally married.

"I don't see why it's all such a big deal, Mikes. So I didn't mention that I'm in a band. So what? I didn't want wiL to know. I swear, I'm unplugging the internet and disemboweling whoever told wiL about this. Seriously. Or, like, I'll get Frank to attack him. I'm pretty sure Frank would do that for me."

"If he doesn't get pissed at you for not telling him about wiL."

He forgot about that...Okay, so far, he has alienated everyone who loves him except Mikey. He groaned and flopped back into his groove in the bed. It poked him in the back.

"I hate life, Mikey. I'm going to go jump in the sea and be a merman." He thought that would be pretty cool. He would meet an amazing mermaid who had coconut shells for a bra and didn't give a fuck who My Chemical Romance were because they don't have the internet underwater.

"Shut the fuck up, Gerard," Mikey snapped. "You'd better not jump any-fucking-where, got it?"

Oh. Oh. Mikey thought Gerard was going to do something drastic. He hadn't really thought about it. It's not to that point anymore. When bad things happen, he doesn't plan his suicide. If a door slams on his toe, he doesn't go searching for the rat poison. If he logs on to a message board and reads anything pertaining to himself, he doesn't tie a rope to the ceiling. He wasn't in that place anymore. There was too much air to breathe out here to ever want to die.

"I love you, Mikey."

"Gerard."

"No, this isn't a verbal suicide note. I just...thanks for caring, you know? I'm not going to jump in the sea, but it's nice to know that there's someone to talk me out of it if I ever need it."

He felt safe. He felt the warmth of friendship and brothership (if that was even a word) wash over him. There was people out there who loved him even if wiL really didn't right now. And, and wiL would eventually get over it, right? They lived together, they can't stay in a fight for the rest of their lives. Things would get better. They had to.

*

He stumbled downstairs half-awake and half dreaming, his hair sticking up at angles he couldn't have drawn on and his three-day-old eyeliner cut across one of his cheeks. He had dozed off after talking a bit with Mikey, but woke back up to the moon waning pale over his eyes and stinging his nose. His eyes wanted to squint back shut or hide in the fading darkness of the hallway when he stepped into the kitchen.

WiL was sitting at the table, chain smoking. His eyes were closed, the stick between his mouth only barely so held there by his rouged lips. The round filter slipped back into his mouth when he took a drag and let it out without bothering to move the stick. His hands were at his sleeves again, pulling and tangling and picking at the fabric so much that the sleeves barely came down to his wrists anymore and there was a small pile of gray yarn pooling on the table.

Instead of coughing to let wiL know he was there, he slipped into the chair next to the window and reached for the mostly empty packet. The chink of his lighter made wiL's eyes pop open and look over as Gerard exhaled out the window. He purposefully looked down at the table, tracing the lines in the wood until wiL adressed him.

"Vous devriez dormir."

Gerard licked his dry lips, nodding. "I can't sleep without you."

"Try."

WiL's answer hit Gerard hard. It was one word, but it might have been a soliloquy about how useless Gerard was. He was feeling pretty shitty already.

"No."

WiL sighed and nodded too. "Licia said we should visit." His head was tilted on his hand, glancing at the window behind Gerard, eyes flicking back and forth over the grass and the street. His foot nudged forward until it hit Gerard's.

"So she can rip out my spleen and feed it to her cats," Gerard snorted, jerking his hand around at the word cats. He was pretty sure the cats hated his guts. He didn't know why, it was some sort of sixth sense that they had. Apparently they knew Gerard was more of a dog person and that offended them. He kicked back at wiL's foot lightly, thinking with a little wonder at how playful this was compared to how shitty things were.

"Maybe--" WiL sighed, running a hand through his bangs. His tongue poked out at his lips, swiping over the corners. "You should stay?"

Gerard didn't know whether to take it as a question or as--as something he should really consider. It wasn't about the cats, he knew. WiL didn't want him around. Didn't, didn't want him to go with him at his brother's house. But hey, if he wasn't wanted...

"Maybe." The word rung through the kitchen, booming among the pots and pans and other fucking appliances.

And maybe his heart was breaking, just a little bit. Maybe it just wasn't fair that this was all started over something that wasn't his fault to begin with. WiL opened his mouth, ready to say something--but there was nothing that Gerard really wanted to hear. Nothing. He knew it was going to be something like, don't take it personal, or worse, we need space, because they were all bullshit. The thing was, wiL was pissed. And, like a little kid, he didn't want to be around the negativity.

Gerard stood, snatching the cigarettes from the table, intending to go smoke out on his balcony where he could at least pretend that he's happy. He could even take some apple juice up there in a glass cup and pretend that he was getting drunk and it would all go away soon.

WiL grabbed onto the back of his pajama pants as he went by, saying, "Ne faites pas ceci." He sounded like this was all Gerard's doing, the fact that he wasn't going.

Gerard almost laughed, almost. Instead he jerked away and scrubbed at his face, digging his nails into the skin of his jaw. "Do what? I'm not doing anything, wiL!"

"Don't act like this is my fault." WiL stood up, his hand clasping around the back of his chair, his knuckles turning white. This time he wasn't so sure-sounding, there was a tremor to his voice.

"It's not mine," Gerard grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It is, 'cause you waited all this time and not told me! I found out from the computer!" WiL choked, biting down on his lip. Tears started to swim in his eyes, and--this wasn't enough to stop Gerard from inching forward and dropping his arms to pull wiL into his chest, to kiss the top of his head.

"I didn't want you to know, is that so bad? I'm not any different than I was yesterday or the day before, and--" He flailed his hands up, away from wiL. "And now you hate me? What the hell?"

WiL shrank back from his hands, curling up into himself and looking down. "Don't yell," he mumbled. "It is your fault, too. And I don't hate you. I just want to leave."

"Fine," Gerard yelled, turning away.

"Fine!" wiL yelled back, slinking into his chair and picking up his glass of water, downing it. Yelling made his throat sore.