Chalk Outline

2: Going Down

Morning crept over the horizon. Even though he couldn't see the sun, Gerard could sense it was early. Rubbing his tired eyes, he got out of bed, swaying a little on the spot for a moment.

He seemed to misjudge his balance. Next thing he knew, the floor met his face as he collapsed, eyes shutting again, a pain shooting up his side. Thankfully, Frank wasn't there. Gerard didn't want him to see him this way. It was embarrassing how useless he was and how easily he could give in to addictions and cravings. He barely remembered the days when he used to have control.

Not bothering to make an effort to budge, Gerard stared blankly at the walls with far away, glassy eyes. The black haired boy didn't have much care about what happened to him anymore. The meaning to his life was non existent. A certain someone had made that very clear.

Eyes widening, the door creaked open, revealing a shocked Frank, who instantly rushed over to Gerard, kneeling over him. "Are you alright? What happened?" He asked, tucking some of the greasy hair behind Gerard's ear.

Gerard thought for a moment. What really did happen? "I-I don't know... I was just . . ." He murmured, shivering when Frank's warm fingers grazed his skin.

"Come on." Frank sighed, holding his hand out to Gerard, who took it gratefully as he was pulled to his feet. The world around him started spinning, vision going in and out of focus. He blinked to try to see clearly, but it was no use. That wasn't all, because in two quick seconds, Gerard was sprinting up the stairs clumsily, knocking his shoulders on the walls. He had to get up the stairs.

Eyebrows furrowed, Frank followed him in the kitchen. However, it was too late. Gerard was on his knees, breathing heavily as he threw up the contents of his stomach all over the tiled floor. "Oh, Gee..." Frank started, shutting his mouth because now wasn't the best time. Leaning over Gerard, he brought the boy's hair back so it was was out of his face. Frank sighed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment. He sounded so defeated?

Once he was done, Gerard shuffled backwards with an embarrassed expression on his face, he could feel his head heating up.

Hesitantly, Frank spoke up, "do you feel at least the smallest bit better after. . . that?" Even though he could easily guess the answer, he wanted to know what he would reply with. But, it was Gerard, he never talked about himself, he always changed the subject or avoided the questions. Such as, the one Frank had just asked.

For once, he decided against lying and shook his head. All of the bad memories and thoughts he had been dismissing with the alcohol came back to him and hot tears built up in his eyes.

Sighing, Frank grabbed the necessary things, then cleaned the mess up, putting the things back where they belonged afterward.

Crouching down beside Gerard, he helped him up, then they both walked in to the living room, neither of them saying a word. It stayed like that for a good couple of minutes; Gerard sat with his knees to his chest on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, Frank seated in a chair opposite, elbows resting on his knees as he tapped his foot nervously to no particular beat.

He wanted to speak, he had to speak. But Frank thought it best to let Gerard talk first -that was if he even wanted to. Maybe he just needed to company, or the reassurance that someone was there if he did feel the need to vent.

-

Shit. Frank thought, sitting straight up in the chair, suddenly alert and awake. He hadn't realised that he had fallen asleep. Rubbing his eyes, he scanned the room for Gerard, who had disappeared. Frank couldn't blame him though, he wouldn't have wanted to sit in the company of someone out of consciousness.