Teach Me How to Love Again (Sequel to Dirty Little Secret)

Chapter 63: We're Broken People

*~(The title of this chapter is from Screen by Twenty One Pilots.)~*

Gerard and I sat and had average conversations for the rest of that night, and now we were finally going to try and get some sleep.

He was about to go upstairs as I prepared to sleep on the couch again.

"You, um... Y-you don't have to sleep down here. You c-can sleep in my bed, i-if you want. Of course you don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable or anything. I j-just don't want you to be lonely, or whatever," he murmured as he began to get flustered again.

I stood up and walked over to him. "O-okay... Sure," I muttered nervously. I quickly went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas, then we both awkwardly walked up to his bedroom together. He stripped his shirt off, then we both climbed into bed. This was awkward, but it was better than sleeping alone.

We didn't cuddle, we just rolled onto our sides and faced away from each other. That made me kind of sad, but at least we were back in the same bed.

*~*~*

Hours passed, and I still couldn't sleep. I rolled over to face Gerard, and I noticed he was also awake. He was just staring at the ceiling.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" he asked.

"No," I sighed. "I still can't believe I lost the baby."

"It'll be okay. You'll have another one someday," he reassured me.

"I know, I just... I wanted to give you a child. I feel so bad that I ruined your chance to have a baby."

"Hey, this isn't the only opportunity we'll have. You're only eighteen. This just means it wasn't the right time yet."

"But you're twenty-six."

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered. "Maybe I'll have a baby someday, or maybe I won't. Either way, I just want you to be happy again. You don't have to worry about me."

"Why do things keep going wrong for me? My parents already died! Wasn't that enough?" I ranted, suddenly getting a bit angry.

"A lot of things have gone wrong for you, and it tears me apart that most of them were my fault."

"You didn't cause the miscarriage or the death of my parents."

"No, but I cheated on you, then I dumped you, and then I was a dick to you this whole time. I still hate myself for that shit I did, especially now that I see how sad and hurt you really are. I know it's not me you're hurting over, but still. I see that you're hurt now, then I remember I've caused this before. It tears me up inside," he said, and tears now came to his eyes.

I couldn't stand to see him so sad, so I pulled him closer to me. He rested his head on my chest and continued crying as I ran my fingers through his hair to soothe him. We stayed like this for an hour before he calmed down enough to speak. I expected him to say something important, but he didn't.

"Your boobs are really comfy," he said, with his voice still a bit hoarse from all the crying.

I giggled slightly. "Thanks, I think."

He nuzzled up against my chest, and I continued to run my fingers through his hair. He looked like he was about to fall asleep, which made me chuckle. My ex-boyfriend was about to fall asleep using my boob as a pillow. This was such a weird situation, but I didn't mind. He looked so peaceful, and I was happy he was finally getting some sleep. He rested his hand on my other boob, then he fell asleep. I knew he did that on purpose, but he'd probably play it off as something he did in his sleep tomorrow.

Eventually I fell into a somewhat peaceful sleep. It was nice to be this close again.

The next morning I woke up with Gerard still in the same position, and my fingers were still in his hair. I tried not to move so I wouldn't wake him, but I yawned, which caused my chest to move. He woke up and blushed as he noticed where his head and his hand were resting.

"Comfy?" I teased.

He nodded. "Very."

"I think you're in love with my boobs," I accused playfully.

"No, I think I'm just in love with the woman they're attached to," he stated sweetly. "Also, you fell asleep with your hand in my hair, so I couldn't really move from your boob without you pulling my hair out."

"Shit, sorry," I apologized, and then I took my hand out of his hair.

"No, it's fine. I kind of like when you play with my hair," he admitted awkwardly.

We stayed like this for a while, but Gerard eventually moved back to his own pillow.

"Sky?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"... N-nothing, never mind," he sighed.

"What? You know you can tell me stuff. We're friends, or whatever we are."

"I just... I just wanted to thank you for staying here with me, even if you don't love me anymore. It means a lot that you're sleeping in here with me, and that you comforted me last night."

"Hey, it's the least I could do, Gerard."

"Sorry I've been a dick. If I ever do that again, please slap me. You deserve so much better than a man you have to be afraid of."

"It's okay, honey."

"No, it's not okay. I yelled at you. I scared you. I was overly possessive. I did all of that in front of your friends. I was... I was kind of abusive. That's never okay. I feel like a monster."

"You're not a monster. That wasn't the real you. It was just the stress and alcohol taking over."

"But it could happen again. I have a drinking problem. I'm an alcoholic. I don't want to scare you anymore. Maybe you shouldn't stay here. I'm only going to hurt you. I can't stop."

"Gerard, I'm here for you. Don't push me away this time! You need help!"

"But I'm going to hurt you! You know that! I'm going to get drunk, then I'll yell at you for something stupid, then you'll be afraid of me, and it's only going to repeat itself! I think Frank is what you need right now. Maybe I'll be better in a while, and this will be a safe place for you again, but it's not yet."

"I'm not leaving."

"You're not safe here."

"I don't care."

Gerard was silent, so I had to speak again.

"I know getting sober is going to be hard, but I'm gonna help you. I don't care if I'm not fully safe. You need me, and I'm going to help you, no matter how much you scream at me," I protested.

He shook his head. "I can't go sober. Withdrawal would only make things worse. I really don't want to hurt you, Skylar."

"You could probably punch me in the face, and I still wouldn't leave you now. You're going to get better, and nothing you do to me is going to stop me from helping you. Now, where do you keep your alcohol? I'm throwing it away."

He sighed and led me downstairs, where he opened a cabinet in his kitchen, and revealed many bottles of whiskey and vodka. I put all of those into a pile, then I opened his fridge and removed the beer, and whatever other weird types of booze he had in there. I put all of the alcohol into a trash bag, then I threw it into the large garbage can outside. He hugged me after I returned from my short trip to the garbage can.

"You really think I can do this?" he asked.

"Of course I do. You're gonna get better. I know it."

We were still broken, but we were both going to get better.