Death Is Strange

TWENTY-ONE

Bert wrote a lot of songs. And anything could inspire him. From an exceptionally bad day to a full-blown orgasm, he would sit down with his scuffed black notebook and start scrawling down lyrics. The sexual ones he gave to Gerard. The others remained tucked away in his book, waiting to be set to music.

And then one day, the notebook was full.

Jeph pulled Gerard into a hug as soon as they got out of the car. Gerard melted against him, burying his face in the shoulder of his jacket, inhaling the smell of cigarette smoke and the sharper scent of sweat.

"I was going to leave, you know. Get out of this sorry-ass town," Jeph whispered. "But I'm putting that on hold. I'm not leaving until either Bert is found or I know you're okay."

"Thank you," Gerard mumbled.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there like that, Jeph's arms comfortingly wrapped around him. "What the fuck do you do to me, Gerard Way?" Jeph finally said, pulling back. "You're making me into a wuss." He laughed shakily. "It's like I'm your fucking mother or something."

Gerard smiled, but he knew that his eyes were still sad. "Can we go inside? It's gotten colder."

"Yeah, of course. I mean, the whole point is what I have to show you."

Gerard's phone buzzed, and he checked it while Jeph unlocked the door. It was Frank: Is everything okay?

Yeah, Gerard replied. I'll be back this afternoon.

For a moment, Frank was typing a reply, but then the dots vanished and Gerard sighed, putting his phone away. He probably thinks I'm fucking Jeph.

Jeph's apartment was messy, with clothes thrown across the worn-out couch cushions and a crack in the TV screen, but his guitars were hung on the wall, in immaculate shape, and there were pictures tacked haphazardly to the walls down the hallway to his room. Most of the pictures were Jeph and Bert, a few with Quinn, but there were several with Gerard, too. One was the same as Gerard's laptop wallpaper – the photo from the county fair. Gerard felt a twinge of loneliness in his gut, then wanted to slap himself. You have Frank. Stop bitching.

Jeph's bed looked worse than Gerard's, and that was saying something. In fact, the blankets were on the floor more than the bed. "Sorry," Jeph said. "I never think about what a dump this place is until someone else is here."

"It's fine," Gerard said. "I don't give a fuck because my room is just as trashed."

Jeph was looking for something in the closet, and when he pulled out a black notebook, Gerard's heart started to race. "Is that...?" he whispered.

"Bert left it here. The first one he filled up, I mean. Don't you have the one he was working on?"

"Yeah," Gerard croaked. "I didn't know he gave it to you."

Jeph shrugged. "You know we were tight." He hesitated, then came over to Gerard, holding it out to him. "I think you might want to take a look."

Gerard nodded, eagerly taking it, reverently turning the pages.

"There's one in there he wrote about you for sure," Jeph said. "El-Oh-Vee-Ee. Remember that one? I always teased him for being extra, but it's really good."

"Yeah," Gerard whispered. "I... don't want to take this from you, though. Like, I have his other notebook." He handed it back, tears stinging his eyes. But then he laughed, the sound choked with emotion. "When we went to buy a new notebook, he bought me a better sketchbook, and the store owner got pissed because Bert kept kissing me and grabbing my ass. I think we would have gotten kicked out if we hadn't checked out when we did." Gerard shakily wiped at his eyes.