I'm Not Okay (I Promise) • Geetrick

51

---Gerard---

Of everything I feel right now, it's the cold that shines through as my hands weave through Patrick's blonde hair and I watch him sleep soundly. He was reluctant, and I don't blame him, it seemed terrifying. I could tell just by the way he was shaking and crying. I couldn't imagine having to relive something like Dad's death over and over and over again.

He really does hate it. He's terrified of them. He doesn't like what he sees... I imagine how much worse it was for Dad. All the blood, the guns, the screams, the explosions. What was it like, Dad? Was it scary? As bad as Patrick? Or worse? Did you want to die, too? What happened when your best friends died? Did you scream for them like Patrick cries for Megan? Or did you just try to move on? What was it like, Dad? Who had your back? Who stabbed your back? Was the Fourth Of July really as bad as you always said? Did you actually see your friends? Were you really there? Did it really feel like you were there?

Mikey and I weren't usually allowed to talk to him on the fourth, but if we were lucky, we'd be able to bring him food and leave. He always stayed locked in the bedroom so he couldn't hurt anyone. That was what Mama was most scared of, but she still loved him nonetheless. It wasn't usually that bad.

Patrick's eyes are so peaceful when they're closed. I can't see the fear that often laces them. The only time he isn't anxious is when he's really relaxed. When it's just him and I. He needed that feeling of relaxation, that's why he left for drugs. He needed some kind of escape. I needed some sort of escape at one point, but I healed. I cut, then I snapped, then I just... was. From blades and razors to rubber bands and ice to absolutely no need to hurt myself.

I'm surprised I've gotten this far, to be honest. There were times when I couldn't find a point in living with both Mikey and Dad gone, not to mention Mama's smoking was becoming more and more of a problem. It still is a problem, not as much, though. Patrick's helped with that. It makes me happy.

"Gerard..." A quiet voice whispers from beside me, it's tired and grumbly. I'm surprised he's up so early.

"Morning, Sugar," I smile, looking down at him. His green eyes look back up at mine, and after a moment of blinking, he smiles, "How long have you been awake?"

"Like..." I glance over at the clock, the time reading 8:26 AM, "An hour or so..."

"And you were just watching me sleep," He says in a monotone voice.

"Shut up, I like watching you sleep."

"Creeper."

I smirk and lay back, "Brendon invited us over to hang out for a while. Are you feeling well enough to go?"

He squeezes his eyes shut trying to blink the sleep away, but we both know he's close to falling asleep again, "Yeah... sure..."

"Mkay..." He whispers. My eyes dart down to his stomach and soon after under the covers, "Just... a few more minutes..."

He rolls over, shutting his eyes again.

"Can I help you wake up?" I ask, licking my dry lips.

"What do you mean?"

I wiggle my eyebrows at him making him giggle softly, rubbing his eyes, "Yeah? Maybe?"

"No, I'm okay." He whispers with a smile, "Take a shower with me, though?"

I nod, "Okay."

I pull him up, quickly grabbing a change of clothes I had picked out the day before and taking it into the bathroom along with a change for him. I lead him into the room, he's still exhausted, it's adorable.

"You're soo tiiiired...." I laugh as he stumbles into the bathroom.

"Shut up, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night..." He replies. I turn on the shower, letting it pour onto the floor with quick drops and a smooth shh.

"I can tell." I pull off his shirt, revealing his stomach which, to my disappointment, he still isn't entirely comfortable with, but that's okay. He'll get there. One day he'll believe he's beautiful and he'll realize just how he looks in my eyes. Beautiful.

The shower takes a while since Patrick is really reluctant to wake up. He keeps putting his head on my shoulder, and it got to a point where I just gave him a goddamn blowjob. He actually woke up then. His hands tangling in my hair and his head getting thrown back in pleasure. He offered me one, but I declined the offer saying, "I'm awake enough as it is."

We ate breakfast, and by the time we were actually ready to go, it's about 11 AM. Mama's at work, so it's just him and I as we grab our bus passes.

Then, there's a knock at the door.

Patrick looks up at me, an expression of confusion on his face it asked, is that for you?

I shook my head and shrugged, slowly placing my bus pass in my pocket, "Probably just the mail?"

He sets his bus pass safely in his pocket, his green eyes still confused as we walk to the living room.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Hello?" Someone calls on the other side. It sounds familiar but... no... it couldn't be...

"Who's there?" I call back. There's a short pause, I could cut the tension with a knife it was so thick. Finally, his voice replies, soft and gentle but still with a sharp undertone. The voice makes me grip the couch in shock and my lip to clasp hard between my teeth as I wonder if this is a dream or reality.

"It's Mikey, please open up."

I let out a shaky breath and place my hand on the knob of the door, gripping it tightly. Is that really him? Is that really my brother? Why is he home so early? What's happened? Did Mr. Gray kick him out? Or did he just leave the school? Will I find him in that black parade uniform? The uniform I've grown accustomed to these past few years? The gray beanie, the hideous haircut that looks somewhat okay on him, and that white denim jacket that he wore before he left? Along with those white glasses that sit just on the bridge of his nose?

I turn it. Am I really doing this?

Yes.

I pull on the door, watching it open and sure enough there he is.

There's Mikey Fucking Way on the other side.