Take Care

Changes In His Eyes

*short but important chapter*

That night, Bandit lay sound asleep and tucked into her bed and Gerard lay next to me. "I'm sorry that you were so upset today." He whispered, brushing the longer pieces a way from my face. I shrugged, nervously biting on my lip ring. "Do you want to talk about it, now?" He wondered, pulling me closer to him so our noses touched. "No." I said swallowed awkwardly. "Please Frankie, I'm worried about you." He pursued. "I don't want to make you feel guilty." I said accidentally and bit harder on my lip.

He seemed lost, eyes searching for an answer to a question that hadn't been asked. At least, not out loud. He reached slowly for my hand that I willingly gave him. "It's not your fault." I assured him and knew it was a bit of a lie. I was never one to make people feel like they had done wrong, even if they had. I may talk about it but honestly, I couldn't do it. "It's okay. I've done a lot of shitty things recently." He paused and took a breath. Obviously he had other things in his mind besides finding me crying that afternoon. His grip tightened around my hand and didn't mind that it hurt. Suddenly the atmosphere of the room shifted. Instead of confession I felt lies and secrets. Instead of peaceful love and care I felt urgent. "Somethings really wrong, isn't it?" I could see it in his eyes, they usually have away how he was feeling. Unfortunately he could see changes in mine as well. "It's back, isn't it?" He asked but it was more of a horrifying statement. I quickly sat up and shook my head. "No, no, no. No Gee, I'm fine. And you're fine. And we're fine and everything is okay!" The words spurtted out of my mouth, not giving me a chance to process them. My head went numb and dark and my hand that wasn't intertwined with is began to shake. "Frank, we Need help. It's no ones fault." He told me quietly and it shoydlve helped. I should've calmed down like I always do when he talks like that. I didn't though. It soon became difficult to breath and the only thing I could see was my pack of unopened cigarettes across the room and the only thing I could feel was Gerard's hand wrapped around mine. "I am not depressed." I said shakily. The lump in my throat swelled as I tried to speak again. "And," my voice caught but I refused to cry. "And you're not an addict."

He closed his eyes and pulled me into himself. Holding me closer and tighter than he had ever before. For the last month, I had lied to myself. I told myself that sleepless nights were caused by worry for Gerard. Random outbursts of sadness was from over thinking. Often panic attacks were from stress. It was all lies. It wasn't worry or stress. No, it was the Depression and it was back. I wasn't any hero. I was a depressed loser again. I guess, it had never really gone away. The depression was apart of me. The same went for him too. The harder he fought, the more powerful the next blow came. You can't ever rid yourself of your sicknesses, they grow with you.

"Please listen to me alright." He urged, wipeing tears from my cheeks. "We will get help and I will always be around to take care of you. I promise, Frankie. I know I've broken countless promises before but I won't be able to live with myself if I hurt you once more." He explained, looking me in the eyes. I opened my mouth to speak but as usual, nothing came out. It only made me cry harder. "But you've got to fight with me, okay? We can't leave Bandit alone. We can't make her fight the world on her own. We have to stick around a little longer to take Care of her. Okay, Frankie? Will you fight with me? Will you get help with me?" He asked, holding my head agsint his chest. "I promise." I said, swallowing hard. "I fucking promise."