Every day, upon waking up, Gerard found himself wondering if it was time to leave yet. He felt like they weren’t getting any closer to the day they had to go, and he wanted it to just be there already. They were on a roll as far as the writing process went, but Gerard didn’t particularly care; it was painful for him, because when he wrote, he had to retreat to that corner of his brain furthest from the light. He’d have to go there armed with nothing but a flashlight, and start digging through the murky depths until he came across something profound, and gut-wrenching. Not to say such things were hard to come by—no, there was an abundance of those. However, as disturbing and intriguing as they were, most of them couldn’t fit seamlessly into the songs he was working on. So even after finding things, he’d have to keep on digging.

Gerard’s nightmares were getting worse as time went on. At first, Gerard was convinced that they were what they were, and he’d just have to deal with that. But after a couple of weeks, he found that the shaking got worse, and that the fear stayed with him longer once he woke up. If Frank came into the room to soothe him, Gerard would always wish he would stay, but never actually ask, so he never would. He had the feeling Frank wouldn’t mind, though. There was something about his body language whenever he left the room; the hesitation in his step, the slight turn of his body, even as he walked through the door, and the way he would always peer through the crack as he closed it. It was as if he was taking as long as possible, waiting for Gerard to ask him. 

The days wore on, and not much changed; it was the same old thing, and the monotony seemed to be getting to everyone. They would snap at each other much more frequently, and they’d spend more and more time on their own. Finally, the day of their departure arrived, and the relief was almost tangible. Gerard had spent a whole day packing, just anticipating the freedom of getting out of the house. He had the strange feeling that once they left his nightmares would immediately stop. Or at least give him a break for a day or so.

A van from the record label pulled up out front, and Gerard could hear Ray calling him from downstairs, but Gerard felt like he was forgetting something. He spent another five minutes digging through his drawers before giving up, picking up his suitcase, and slipping on his jacket. He immediately headed for the staircase, his ears tuned in to the sounds outside, hoping that nobody was getting too impatient. He heard footsteps behind him once he was halfway down the spiral staircase, and paused, slightly alarmed. He had thought that he was the last one left in the house, but apparently not. Mikey was descending the stairs right behind him, looking a little groggy and very pale.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked, pausing so Mikey could catch up.

“Yeah. It’s just, the maid scared me just now,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He fell into step with Gerard as they continued to descend.

“She always seems to turn up at the worst times, doesn’t she?” Gerard marveled.

“Yeah,” Mikey said, nodding. “I was taking a nap, and I heard Toro shouting his fucking lungs out, so I got up and everything. And like, just as I was ready to burst out of my room—I’m talking my hand was right on the doorknob—she knocked on the door and scared the ever-loving shit out of me.”

Gerard laughed, but lowered his voice before answering. “I’m telling you, it’s like she knows just when we don’t want to be bothered.”

“Right?” Mikey said. “She’s a nice lady, though.”

“Yeah,” Gerard agreed as they neared the front door.

“Took you long enough!” Ray called as they exited the house. “Get your asses in the damn van, we’re gonna miss the fucking plane.”

“Such a drama queen, Toro,” Gerard muttered as he hauled his suitcase into the trunk.

“Look who’s talking,” Ray said with a grin.

“Yeah, well,” Gerard said, faltering for a comeback, and then giving up.

“Hah,” Ray said. “Now get the fuck in.”

Gerard did, followed by Mikey. Gerard noticed that Bob looked distinctly nervous, and Frank distinctly excited. Ray was just Ray, climbing into the passenger seat and being sane, which Gerard was quite thankful for.

On the way to the airport, the van was painfully silent. Frank was next to Gerard, and he was squirming every five seconds, which quickly began to get on Gerard’s nerves. It also didn’t help that Gerard was having trouble not looking at him, or touching him. They hadn’t spoken much since the kiss they shared on the balcony, let alone shared another. Gerard didn’t know why things were moving so slowly; in the past, when Gerard got involved with guys, everybody would know about it immediately, whether they wanted to or not. In this situation, the other three in the band seemed oblivious to the tension that was almost tangible to Gerard. Of course, much of the tension was inside his head; he knew that he should be feeling guilty because he was clearly cheating on the man he had expected to spend the rest of his life with, but he didn’t, and that, more than anything else, scared him. Every time he looked at Frank, and remembered what had happened, and thought about what was most likely going to happen, he waited for the guilt, but it never came.

Gerard jumped when Frank’s hand brushed against his, and Frank attempted to thread their fingers together. They shared a long look before Gerard shook his head almost imperceptibly, and Frank reluctantly pulled away, a troubled look on his face. Gerard bumped Frank’s leg with his own, as if to say, Hey, don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong, and the corner of Frank’s mouth pulled up in a smile.

The silence in the van was broken abruptly by the shrill sound of Mikey’s cell ringing; Gerard found himself cringing, and saw that Mikey was equally surprised. He straightened his hips awkwardly and reached into his pocket to retrieve it, looking briefly at the screen before answering. Gerard saw an unfamiliar look cross his brother’s face, and began to worry.

“Yeah, we’re on our way to the airport,” Mikey was saying. “What?” A pause. “Yeah, no, definitely.” Gerard could hear the distinct sound of a male voice coming from Mikey’s phone, but he couldn’t discern any of the words, and he felt ashamed at the fact that he was attempting to eavesdrop. “I’m not really all that sure, actually. But yeah, I’ll call you.” Another pause, and then Mikey laughed. “Okay man. Yeah. You too.” Mikey hung up, a faint smile on his face.

“Do I need to ask?” Bob said, exasperation clear in his voice.

“No, you don’t,” Mikey said shortly, his good mood quickly evaporating.

Bob held his hands up defensively. “Okay, whatever. Not judging you or anything.”

Gerard was intrigued by this exchange; he got the feeling that Bob and Mikey had discussed this. It was pretty obvious to Gerard that it was Pete who had called, but it seemed like Bob knew more than the rest of them did, as he usually did when it came to Mikey.

Gerard decided not to push it. He felt like he was walking on eggshells with his brother lately, and he didn’t want to say anything that would provoke him further. If Mikey wanted to screw around with Pete Wentz, Gerard couldn’t say anything to change his mind, and he certainly couldn’t do anything to stop him.

[//]

At the airport, they met up with Brian and Worm. Brian was a ball of nerves, asking them about how they were doing and then not leaving enough time for them to answer before launching another question at them. Gerard was endlessly amused by his behavior; he was usually so laid back about everything, but now he was almost as edgy as the rest of them had been over the past few weeks. Perhaps he was experiencing sympathetic nervousness or something. Later, Gerard learned that Ray had been calling him periodically, so he had some sort of idea of what had been going on inside the Paramour.

Worm, on the other hand, was acting completely normal, and Gerard was glad about that. He was sick of everyone freaking out on him, and Worm being Worm was refreshing, even if that meant being a dick.

On the plane ride, Gerard found himself belatedly nervous. They were flying to fucking Texas to play their first show in months. Texas. Redneck central. Then again, supposedly Austin was a sort of safe-haven for the more open-minded, but still.

Gerard couldn’t fall asleep on the plane. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before due to his nightmares and pre-show excitement, but despite his fatigue, his eyes remained wide and his senses alert. He was sitting in the aisle, and Frank was next to him dozing quietly. On Frank’s other side was Mikey, who had also nodded off. Bob and Ray were sitting behind him, along with Brian, and Worm was across the aisle. Gerard fidgeted a lot, turning in his seat and craning his neck to see if anybody else was awake. Frank was apparently disrupted by his movements, because he grunted in his sleep and rested a hand on Gerard’s thigh briefly in an attempt to still him. Gerard cringed and tried to gently ease himself into a different position, so that his feet were in the aisle. He peeked around the corner of the seat, and saw that Bob, who was the only other person who hadn’t fallen asleep, was staring at him with amusement.

“What are you, four?” Bob said. “You’ve been squirming around for the past like, ten minutes.”

Gerard pulled a face. “I’m bored,” he said simply, trying to keep his voice down.

“Yeah, well, not all of us need constant stimulation,” Bob said, lacing his fingers behind his head and resting it on his hands. “And oh yeah, not all of us are secretly four.”

Gerard hit him. “What the fuck?” Bob said, laughing and rubbing his upper arm. “That didn’t even hurt, dumbass.”

“You better watch it, Bryar,” Gerard said playfully, a little louder than he intended.

He heard Mikey shift and cringed. “Gerard, shut the fuck up, ‘m tryin’ to sleep,” he mumbled.

“Nice going, fuckwit,” Bob said quietly.

“Ha, ha,” Gerard mumbled, a mild blush tingeing his cheeks. He turned his head to shoot another look at Mikey before he said anything else; his brother appeared sound asleep once more. He had been meaning to talk to Bob about “The Mikey Situation,” but hadn’t really had an opportunity. Now was pretty ideal; they were relaxed, Mikey wasn’t listening, and Gerard couldn’t think of a better time to do it.

“Hey Bob?” Gerard said, and Bob apparently heard the urgency in his tone because his expression turned serious, and he leaned in closer to Gerard.

“What is it?” he said, and Gerard was amazed at how quickly he went from playful to worried.

“Uh, nothing big. Just. About Mikey,” he started, twisting his fingers together nervously.

“Oh,” Bob said darkly. “That.”

“Yeah,” Gerard said. “He isn’t telling me anything, and I’m kind of getting worried. I guess.”

Bob shook his head and shot Gerard a dark look. “That kid is fucking impossible.”

“Do you know what’s going on?” Gerard asked, perking up a bit.

Bob craned his neck to see if Mikey was still sleeping. “Sort of. Not really. I mean, he’s not exactly the easiest person to get information out of.” Gerard nodded, fully aware of this.

“Well, are you going to tell me?” Gerard asked.

Bob looked stricken. “Uh. Well. There isn’t much to tell?” Bob’s voice went up at the end of the sentence, and Gerard figured he was torn between doing what he thought should be done and respecting Mikey’s wishes.

“Come on,” Gerard said. “I’m sure you’re worried, too, man. We need to talk about this.”

Bob sighed. “Alright. But I speak the truth, there really isn’t much to tell.” He held his hands up defensively.

“Fine, whatever. Just tell me.”

Bob sighed again. “Okay. Jeez.” He inched closer to Gerard, and Gerard took the hint, scooting closer to the end of the seat and inclining his head towards Bob. “He’s fucking out of his head, man. I’m telling you. I mean, I’m sure you noticed, but. It’s pretty bad, to be honest.” Gerard frowned, his concern building. “So, I’m sure you’ve realized he’s been talking to Pete Wentz a lot. You know how we were all joking about them having a fling a couple summers ago?” Gerard nodded. “Well, as it turns out, it wasn’t a joke. And neither was what Mikey said last week. They’ve been fucking around.”

Gerard winced. This wasn’t good. “Wait. So. Mikey likes dudes?” Gerard knew this shouldn’t have been his first question, but it had been bothering him for a while and he wanted an answer, even if it seemed obvious.

Bob shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know, though. He… he seems kind of reluctant about the whole thing, like he doesn’t want to. And as far as I know? Wentz has been the only one.”

“Okay,” Gerard said, digesting this. “But what does this have to do with him acting weird?”

Bob rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, man. He just seems like he needs someone outside of our whole situation to talk to lately. Among other things. I mean, I’m sure there’s plenty more to this that I don’t know or understand. But. He’s just… I’m not going to lie. He’s fucking out of it. Like, he told me that he’s been really afraid at night. Have you been inside his room lately? Because it’s fucking creepy.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “His room?”

Bob nodded. “Yeah. He hates it in there. There’s hardly any light, and when you’re in there? It just feels like there’s something lurking somewhere you can’t see. I don’t know. I don’t believe in ghosts and all that shit, but he does, and he seems to think the house is haunted.”

Gerard gaped at him, and Bob just shrugged. “Why doesn’t he tell me any of this?” Gerard muttered, rubbing his own eyes and leaning back a little.

“He cares about you a lot, you know,” Bob said, and really, Gerard didn’t know what that had to do with anything.

“Yeah, man. He’s my brother.”

Bob shook his head. “Gerard, it’s more than that. He’s always worrying about you, and he didn’t say this explicitly, but I think he isn’t telling you because he doesn’t want you to worry about him. You are anyway of course, but he doesn’t understand that. I tried to tell him,” he muttered.

Gerard really didn’t know what to say to that. “He’s crazy,” he managed finally.

“I fear the truth in that statement,” Bob said.

“But seriously, why has he been snapping at me so much?” Gerard wasn’t really expecting Bob to know, but he asked anyway, if only because he had been wondering and felt the need to ask somebody, even if it wasn’t Mikey himself.

Bob shrugged. “He’s snapping at everyone. Except Wentz,” he said with contempt. “It’s all smiles and laughter with him. Seriously, what the fuck?”

Gerard just shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t get that guy’s appeal. Everyone seems to be willing to drop everything for him, but I don’t see what’s so special.”

Bob snorted. “I know, even Frank was drooling after him for a while that summer. He does have a nice ass, though.”

Gerard was caught off guard and let out a laugh that was a little too loud. He quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and shot a look at Mikey. “You too?” He couldn’t help but laugh again.

Bob smiled faintly, turning slightly red. “I don’t know, man. But come on, you’ve got to admit it, he does. An ass is an ass, it doesn’t matter who it’s on.”

“I guess,” Gerard said begrudgingly, then shuddered. “Are you sure they hooked up? This is more than a little disturbing for me. That guy is such a dick.”

“Dude, come on,” Bob said, rolling his eyes. “Mikey has a huge fucking hickey on his neck. That alone should be enough to confirm it. But if you must know, he told me that it happened. Mind you, I had to coax it out of him. Wasn’t easy,” he said cryptically.

“God,” Gerard said, shaking his head.

“Hey, you’re one to talk,” Bob said, poking him in the ribs. “You’ve hooked up before on the road. You’ve cheated on your dude so many times I’m really shocked he hasn’t dumped your ass yet.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” Gerard sighed. And yes, right there, there’s the guilt he was wondering about.

Bob shook his head. “Absolutely nothing, Gee.”

[//]

They checked into the hotel at noon, and managed to make it to the venue by a quarter past one. Sound check was monotonous, because it felt like every other practice session ever, and Gerard just couldn’t wait to have the crowd in front of him so he could work them. The art of crowd manipulation was one that Gerard had mastered, and he wasn’t too modest to admit it; he knew the exact right things to say to get them riled up. He knew when to curse, he knew when to tease, and he knew when to flirt. The crowd was almost like a single entity to him; they all moved in tandem with one another, and they represented the masses—all the kids who were going to fucking love the album they were currently killing themselves over.

When Gerard stepped out on stage and the crowd started to scream, he couldn’t remember feeling happier. He could see individual faces now, and it was probably his favorite thing in the world.

“Hey you guys!” he shouted, and the crowd screamed in response. “We’re My Chemical Romance, and we’re going to rock your fucking faces off!”

It was an easy show to play. Gerard had so much pent-up energy from the months he had spent on his ass, so he just let it all loose. They opened with Helena, and fuck did he miss the sounds of those screams. He missed the way the crowd would shout his own words back at him, changing the meaning, but not in a way that bothered him. He knew that these words meant different things to different people, and that justified it all for him.

As easy as the show was, though, it was equally difficult, but not because of the crowd or the equipment or the rest of the band, not even Mikey. It was difficult because Frank was so distracting. Gerard could barely take his eyes off him. There was no doubt in anybody’s mind that Frank loved what he did; he played almost the entire show with a huge smile on his face, like a kid who just found out Christmas was coming early. He injected so much passion into his performance—he put his entire body into his guitar playing, and it was probably one of the sexiest things Gerard had ever witnessed.

Gerard would openly admit that he was not a very sexual person, as hard as that would be for many to believe; he enjoyed the emotions, and the kissing, and the touching associated with relationships much more than the actual sex, in general. Not to say he didn’t enjoy sex—he did, definitely. It just was not very high up on his list of priorities. In fact, he had Kasper had been together for almost a year before they had sex for the first time. He found that not many things turned him on; his response to things was more emotional than physical, normally. But Frank… Frank, to Gerard, embodied pure sex. Out of the corner of his eye, Gerard could see Frank thrashing around, his eyes closed and his mouth open, slamming the strings of his guitar with as much force as he could.

When Frank walked towards Gerard midway through Give ‘Em Hell Kid, Gerard couldn’t help but put his arm around him and pull him close. Frank promptly pressed a kiss to Gerard’s neck, and suddenly, this was so much more than just stage antics. The knowledge that he and Frank had shared moments like these off stage, without all the people watching and screaming their approval made something twist hard in Gerard’s stomach. So he clenched his eyes shut and screamed louder, belting out “do you care at all?” with the intention of breaking eardrums.

Too soon, their set was over, and they were jogging off-stage with their arms slung around one another, wide smiles plastered on their faces, shouts of “Fuck yeah!” escaping their mouths every so often. Backstage, Gerard could still hear the crowd screaming, and chanting “MCR,” and he knew that they weren’t done. They hadn’t put much thought into what they’d do for an encore, but Gerard was so fucking stoked that he wanted to try something daring.

“You guys,” he said quietly, almost like he was about to divulge a secret. “I really want to play The End for these motherfuckers.”

“Dude!” Frank shouted, throwing his arms in the air with excitement.

“Yeah man, yeah,” Ray said, his fingers twitching, as if itching to play those chords in that order.

“What do you think, guys?” Gerard said, turning to Bob and Mikey.

“Dude, yes,” Bob said, nodding enthusiastically. “Dead too, yeah?” Mikey nodded sharply.

“Yeah,” Gerard breathed. “Come on, let’s do it.”

When they walked back out on stage, the crowd shouted uproariously. “Alright you guys,” Gerard said, drawing out his words. “We decided that since you’re such a great crowd, we’re gonna play something new for you. It’s fucking sick, and you’re going to love it.” They screamed, and Gerard smiled.

Watching the looks on their faces as they went into The End was probably among the most rewarding experiences of Gerard’s life. There was this one girl, in the front row, whose jaw dropped the instant Gerard started singing. He could see huge smiles on the faces of many, as if they were thinking, Fuck, I’m so glad I’m a part of this. The smiles grew as Gerard sang the verse, and fuck, the energy was contagious. There were a few people who looked less than impressed, but that was to be expected. The crowd was freakishly still, as if they were in shock, and Gerard loved it.

They went straight into Dead after that, and the room exploded. The kids started jumping and moshing, and it was amazing. Gerard caught Frank’s eye, and they both smiled, and they just knew that it was going to work out great.

When they went off stage for the second time that night, they were even more invigorated.

“Jesus, fuck,” Frank said, breathless. “That was. Jesus. I don’t know what to fucking do with myself.”

“I know what you mean, man,” Ray said. “There really are no words. Gerard, you fucking killed.”

“Hey, look who’s talking,” Gerard said, his eyes widening. “That solo? Genius.”

“Thanks, man,” Ray said, smiling.

They were still buzzing two hours later, when they met up with the small group of kids who waited around after the show. The kids were all smiling like they’d never been happier, and God, Gerard was so glad he was able to do that to people. He signed things, took pictures, answered questions, and gave hugs, and he fucking remembered why he went through all this shit. These kids were his life.

“Uh, Gerard?” a boy of about sixteen said tentatively as he was handing him back the CD he had just signed.

“Hm?”

“I just wanted to say. Um. Those new songs? They were amazing. I can’t wait for the album.”

Gerard’s face broke out into a smile before either of them could blink. “Thanks so much dude, seriously. I knew you guys would love it.”

“Yeah,” a girl next to him piped up, sounding nervous but empowered. “Fucking amazing.”

Gerard walked away from that group of kids feeling like he had injected pure happiness into his veins.

[//]

When Gerard and the guys got back to the van that drove them to the venue, an unexpected sight greeted Gerard.

Kasper was leaning against the van, apparently deep in conversation with Brian. When he spotted Gerard, however, he stopped right in the middle of his sentence and strolled over to him, a huge smile on his face.

“Kasper?” Gerard breathed.

“Yep,” he said, kissing the corner of Gerard’s mouth. “Surprised?”

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard felt something unpleasant in the pit of his stomach, and he was confused as to why he was having such a reaction. Kasper cupped his chin in his hands and planted a kiss right on his lips. “Here, babe?” Gerard whispered, paranoia getting the better of him. He was always afraid someone was watching.

“Sorry, I was just happy to see you,” Kasper said, frowning slightly. “I came to see the show, Brian hooked me up with plane tickets and everything. You guys were amazing tonight.”

Gerard smiled genuinely. “Thank you!” He hugged Kasper tightly and ran his fingers through his hair affectionately. He felt that twist in his stomach again, and when he pulled away, he remembered why—out of the corner of his eye, he could see Frank looking pointedly in the opposite direction, despite the fact that there was absolutely nothing there.

“Unfortunately,” Kasper sighed, “I can’t stay. I’m catching a late plane back to New York, in a few hours. And I’m sure you’re tired, because that show… man.”

Gerard felt relieved, and he instantly wanted to slap himself because of this. “Oh. Okay, then.”

Kasper leaned in for another kiss, and Gerard humored him. “So that’s it, I guess,” Kasper said. “I just wanted to say hi. Don’t forget to call, okay?”

“Sure,” Gerard said, nodding. “Um. Bye, then.”

Kasper smiled. “Bye.” He turned towards the other four, who were talking amongst themselves. “See you guys!” he called to them. They shouted their farewells, and Gerard could feel his stomach sinking.

A few minutes later, they were all packed into the van, and Mikey was chatting away on his cell phone. Gerard exchanged a dark look with Bob.

Frank was actively avoiding his eyes all the way to the hotel, and Gerard knew that this night was going to be awkward. They had three hotel rooms to themselves, and upon learning this, Ray had immediately claimed the single room (“It’s my turn, remember?” he had reminded them when they protested, and he was right). Mikey was rooming with Bob (probably so he can tell Bob more things he won’t tell me, Gerard thought bitterly) and Gerard with Frank, so there was no way the two would be able to avoid one another.

The room was somewhat small in comparison to what Gerard was used to, and for that he was thankful. Living in such a huge space was beginning to take its toll, and Gerard found himself apprehensive in big rooms. The beds, however, were big, and he was also thankful for that.

The second the door was shut and Gerard and Frank were alone things became painfully awkward. Gerard belatedly realized it was the first time they were alone since The Kiss, and really, this whole thing was very silly. Frank knew that Gerard was in a relationship. Heck, Frank was in a relationship too. Gerard felt like he, Gerard, was making this into a much bigger deal than it should have been.

After ten minutes of complete silence, Gerard got fed up. “Look, Frank—”

“Don’t,” Frank said quietly, but with enough force to shut Gerard up. “There’s nothing to talk about. I thought we already came to this conclusion.”

“Alright, fine,” Gerard said, raising his voice slightly. “It’s just… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about… you know.” It was so cliché, and Gerard wanted to hit himself.

“Yeah, well, neither can I,” Frank muttered, shooting him a sidelong glance. “So it’s better we just don’t talk. Okay?”

“Fine,” Gerard said again.

Frank got off the bed he was sitting on and slowly made his way over to the other one, where Gerard was. Gerard held his breath, but didn’t notice until Frank touched his leg and he let it out, quick and sharp. Frank moved closer to him, and Gerard could feel his eyelashes tickling his neck. “We don’t have to make this into a big deal, Gerard,” Frank said softly. “Everything’s always a big deal with you, but this doesn’t have to be.” He moved away slightly so Gerard could see his eyes. He kissed the corner of Gerard’s mouth, and for some reason it stung that Kasper had kissed him right there less than an hour ago. Maybe that was why Frank had chosen that spot. Then he kissed him on the mouth, and Gerard didn’t care anymore. “This isn’t a big deal,” Frank muttered, sounding like a broken record. Gerard shook his head, as if to say, No, you’re right, it’s not.

Frank descended on him again, and Gerard lost count of the kisses; there may have been hundreds of little ones, or maybe just one that lasted a long time. Either way, Gerard was lost in the feel of Frank’s lips, and the rise and fall of his chest, and the beating of his heart, so close and so far away at the same time.

They fell asleep on the bed together, and somehow, it was completely innocent. There were no wandering hands, and their clothes stayed in tact. Gerard didn’t know if this was good or bad—on the one hand, they avoided a bunch of potential awkwardness, but on the other hand, Gerard knew that they were just postponing the inevitable.

But it didn’t matter what they did, apparently, because it wasn’t a big deal. No mater how many times Frank said it, Gerard couldn’t believe him. Gerard didn’t think Frank believed it, either.

[//]