Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

All That I've Got

Bert must've paid really good attention in first aid.

Gerard sat silently on the edge of Bert's ancient couch. The tiny bachelor apartment was basically one room. A small counter and fridge along one wall denoted the kitchen, and the only internal door was to the bathroom. A door which Gerard had learned, did not lock properly.

He watched quietly as Bert dabbed at his wounds, trying his best not to gasp in pain as the alcohol hit them.

"What are you doing?!" The panicked hiss caught him by surprise.

Oh. Okay you're back, hey.

"What are you doing! You trust this guy?!"

Well... yeah? I mean why not. What's the worst that could happen?

"He's going to turn you in! He's going to tell! He's going to ruin everything!"

Gerard rolled his eyes at his disembodied confidant. Who's he gonna tell? Anyway he wouldn't. Bert's an okay guy. He wouldn't betray me like that. He's okay. He's not even scared. He must be fucked up too, I mean, look at him!

"-and so then this chick just decked him!" Bert was in the midst of a story Gerard hadn't realized he was telling.
He looked up at Gerard from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, make-shift medical supplies scattered around him.

He was waiting for a response.

"Hah!" Gerard exhaled in what he hoped could be interpreted as a laugh, agreement, or shock. Whichever the story had warranted.

Bert just shook his head slowly, his lank brown hair falling into his face as it slowly escaped the low pony tail he'd tied it back in.

"You're not even here are you." He said it in a way that sounded defeated, and as he looked back at Gerard he had an odd look in his eye. Pity?

Oh fuck, oh no, he is not cool with it.

"Hold this." Bert instructed, placing the end of a gauze roll in Gerard's hand as he began winding it around his arm. "I wish you would've called me sooner." He was almost whispering, and Gerard had to strain to hear his next words, "you know I love you..." Bert's voice trailed off, but came back as he reached Gerard's elbow with the gauze and changed directions, heading back toward his wrist to double up.

"So then, what would you like to do all day?" Bert piped up, chipper as ever.

"All day?" Gerard glanced quizzically out the window, "isn't it like, almost dark?"

Bert laughed, "Dude you called me at 4am, it's not even half seven yet!"

"Oh shit! Sorry!"

He laughed again, knotting the gauze expertly before cutting the excess with a pocket knife and moving on to the other arm.

"Don't worry about it. You call me any hour of the day and I'll be there."

Bert grabbed the open bottle of vodka next to him and placed gauze across is, flipping the bottle for a moment so the liquid could seep into the fabric before righting it and dabbing at Gerard's other arm.

"Why are you so good at this?" Gerard asked him suddenly, "And why are you using vodka?"

Bert grinned but didn't look up from his task, "I have to do first aid like every year dude. Comes in handy at work. Also vodka is pure alcohol, and this shit is 150 proof, you do a shot of this and your hair will fall out. It's cheaper than rubbing alcohol and twice as effective."

Gerard wasn't sure if that was entirely true, but it hurt like hell so it must be working, and Bert really sounded like he knew what he was talking about.