Gerard lay in his bunk. He couldn't sleep. He had tried, he really had, but he had something on his mind. It was the eleventh of September. He remembered the event a few years ago, so long ago, so far away, yet such vivid flashes in his mind. He was drawing two tall buildings by the light of a streetlamp outside his window. A loud rumble reverbrated through the sky. A flash of light, then darkness. No light, not even from the streetlamp.
"Shit."
The word did not leave Gerard's lips. He jumped when he heard it. It couldn't be Mikey, he would've freaked out about the lightening by now. It didn't come from above him, so it coudn't be Ray He could hear Bob storing loudly in his bunk, so no dice. He forgot about his drawing, staring futilely into the darkness pressing around him.
"Frank?" he whispered. He waited. Then-
"...Gee?"
He pulled back the curtain to find Frank looking at him. By the faint moonlight, Gerard could see his best friend's sad face. Without a word, he stumbled out of his bunk and into Frank's. They both leaned back against the pillow, huddling in the cold. Gerard shivered.
"Hey, it's worse for me, I'm all little and defenseless! Meanie Mr. Jack Frost is trying to kill me," he whined dramatically. Gerard cuddled him closer, grinning.
"Aww, poor ickle Frankie!" His comment earned him a nudge in the side from Frank's sharp elbows. "Hey!" He nudged him back, resulting in a nudge-war. Both of them were giggling like little girls, but still Frank shushed the older man. He ruffled Frank's hair and the shorter man snuggled under Gerard's arm while it was raised. Gerard held him close to his chest.
"You girl," he teased, but kissed the top of his head.
The next morning, Mikey woke Bob in a panic. He thought he heard loud noises in the night and Gerard wasn't in his bunk. Bob ripped open Ray's curtain, explaining what Mikey had said, who pulled back Frank's.
"Why are you giggling?" Mikey asked, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. He and Bob peered over Ray's shoulder as Frank stirred, glancing from his audience to the sleeping man whose arm was still around him.
