Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

Thank You For The Venom

Gerard had planned it out perfectly, he managed to stagger his way through to Saturday afternoon without taking another pill, but they had caught up to him.

And so on Saturday afternoon Gerard found himself sat on the couch in the basement with Mikey who was watching an old cowboy movie on the "playroom" tv.

His mother insisted on calling it the playroom. As though they were still 7 years old playing imaginary firemen in the basement.
These days it was a teenaged dungeon, complete with ragged band posters of Smashing Pumpkins, The Who, and a few local shows Gerard had attended. A decrepit couch occupied most of the room, the arms of which had large holes and questionable stains, and the whole place was damp regardless of the season.

Their parents wouldn't allow them to have televisions in their rooms, but had allowed the old set to be sent to the playroom to occupy the boys. It was one of the few things Gerard still did with his younger brother, thinking as long as they weren't directly speaking he wasn't at risk of fucking the kid up.

The 14 year old was intent on the movie, staring open-mouthed at the gunslingers galloping past.

Gerard on the other hand was barely even aware of the genre of film, doing his best to drown out the voices with his headphones.

Mikey could probably hear his music, but he hadn't asked him to turn it down, and he needed it loud. He checked the time again. He'd recalculated his dosing schedule and hoped if he could stick it out til dinner he could take one then and one before bed Sunday and just barely squeak his way to school.

Close enough!

Gerard stood abruptly and shuffled out of the room, mumbling something about needing the bathroom as he slunk to his bedroom, closing the door and sinking to the floor with his back against it.
It was apparently a fire hazard for him to have a lock on his bedroom door so he had become the lock.

...where did I put it? Someplace different because Ray was onto me... uh... pockets?

He grabbed his jacket and felt his way through the pockets.

Knife, keys, smoooookes..... wait.... No they were here?

He began pulling things from his pockets and placing them on the floor as he double checked.

"...what?" Gerard spoke aloud to himself now. This required a discussion. "I thought... I thought I put them in the inside pocket?"

Maybe you forgot? Maybe you put it in your wallet?

"Sure, sure, sure." He muttered in response, "maybe... no, that's empty... fuck, what?" The wallet search yielded only his small blade and a tattered ID card.

Think. If I told you to hide it where would you put it?

He stared without seeing at the far corner of his room. Could Ray have....?

"...he wouldn't...."

But even as he said it Gerard doubted his own words.
Ray had been quiet yesterday...

Did he have access..?

"I mean he did go back for..... and I didn't go with him.... He could've...."

The two had secured lockers at opposite ends of the school, and shared them, keeping whatever they needed for class in whatever locker was closest.

He grabbed his phone and sped through a text to Ray, "Hey, did you borrow my pencil case or something? I can't find it."

Yeah, pencil case. That's good. He could have borrowed it, he's taken that from my bag before. No need to make him more suspicious.

He repacked the contents of his pockets as he waited for the reply. A slight tinge of guilt played at his thoughts as he put his wallet back into the pencil case in question and stored it back in his bag as usual.

Ray's reply came through as he was checking the inside of his sneakers, because who knows, maybe he got creative with his hiding spots.

"...you shouldn't hang out with Bert and you know it."

Gerard's eyes flashed in anger. How dare he! He went through my shit?! Fuck that! Fuck no! Ray you've gone too far this time I-

He was cut off as his bushy haired friend texted again, "I'm sorry. but I'm here for you and I know you'll be okay without it. I hope you didn't lose your actual pencil case though... your art is cool"

Gerard raked his hands back through his hair, pulling at the roots as he mumbled to himself, "no no no no no! Ray you've fucked me!"

"I'm fucked." He typed with great concentration. The voices in his head were howling with laughter, they loved to watch him suffer, and now he'd be at their mercy til Tuesday. If he even lived that long. "Ray you don't understand. I am going to die. You took my MEDICATION."

Maybe he still had the pills, maybe if Gerard could convince him it was actually a prescription he'd drive it over to him. Maybe...

"Bert's a fucking pharmacist now? I'm trying to help you Gerard. If you need me to get you I can, but I'm not giving you those."

He had curled into a ball at some point, one hand on his phone the other buried in his hair. Something dropped onto the screen, blurring the letters. Tears? Great he thought, crying over drugs Gerard. Fucking brilliant.

"I ran out and the pharmacy is closed. Bert has the same prescription, that's why there's only two! It's just to get me through the weekend!" Even he didn't believe this lie, but he hit send anyway.

Fuck this wasn't going well.

"No Gerard. I love you dude, you're my best friend. I know you. You can get through this. I'm here for you just tell me what—"

Gerard threw the phone across the room onto his bed, aiming for his pillow. He didn't really want to break it after all.
He might want to break Ray though.

If this is fucking love Raymond maybe I want you to hate me. I fucking hate me.

"Okay," he exhaled, trying to calm himself down,"it's okay. It's not like it's the first time, you can manage. It's two days. You can do two days. It'll be okay."

The laughter was overpowering.
He couldn't sit here, letting them mock him. The silence of his room made the voices all the more real.

He withdrew his hands from his hair and wiped his face, concentrating on his breathing.

Can't have Mikey coming up here wondering where I went. Gotta go back.
Be normal. Be. Normal. Breathe. It's fine.

He stressed the last word, hauling himself to his feet.

...but just in case...

He pocketed the small blade. Just in case.

Mikey looked up at him as he re-entered the room, "Y'okay?" He questioned, catching sight of the redness in his brother's nose and eyes.

Gerard just grunted in response, flopping back on the ancient couch in a way that made the wood groan.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweater.

Mikey stared at Gerard for a moment, but eventually shrugged and returned his attention to the movie.

"He knows."

The whispers taunted him, trying to twist his mind.

"He knows what you are. He's scared of you. You're a freak. Leave him alone."

"...can't wait til you die! You're worthless!" This voice was elated, overjoyed at the thought of his demise.

Gerard fingered the blade in his sweater pocket, turning it over and over between his fingers, taking care to ensure it sliced his fingers.

The tiny cold shots of pain were like ice water to his brain, helping to bring him out of the fog of fear.
They didn't go away, but they were quieter.... Manageable.

And that would have to be enough for now.