It was a sleepless night for both Gerard and Bert.
Bert couldn't get comfortable on the my chemical romance tour bus. Mainly because his sleep was interrupted repeatedly by the members coming back at different times of the night (and God, were they loud), but partially because his skin itched against the uncomfortable couch that he was forced to sleep on.
He could've gone back to his own bus, but he would've felt an odd sense of guilt about doing so. He needed to stay with Gerard and make sure he was alright. A small, insignificant part of him hoped that Gerard would wake up in distress so that Bert would've have the worst nights sleep all for nothing, but Gerard slept calmly, at least, Bert though he did.
In reality Gerard was awake, staring at the bottom of the bunk that was above him, waiting to become sober again. Eventually he regained conscious thought and logical thought processes, but he was still so fucking sad. He didn't want to talk to Bert about what happened. He just wanted to close his eyes and act like nothing was wrong.
He wanted to live in darkness, provided he was in a state of blissful ignorance. He couldn't deal with the idea of a harsh light making all of his problems known. So ,like always, he will try and bury them. Further and further into the ground, until darkness is all that is left. He wondered if eventually, if he kept doing this, that one day he would be buried too. It was a strangely comforting thought for no one but himself.
Slowly, the hours crept by and. Gerard fell until a light sleep. Eventually it was 11 in the morning and some of the guys were awake.
Frank was the first one up, which made sense considering he was the first one of the others to call it a night and go to bed, which was unusual for him- he was usually out until the next morning.
He was eventually joined by Bob and Mikey, whilst Ray was still sound asleep in his bunk.
"Bert? What are you doing here, man?" Ray asked, with a tired voice.
"I kinda had to crash here, Gerard uh, wasn't doing too great last night." It was a bad attempt to explain things delicately, but Bert wasn't good with that kind of stuff. He wasn't sure how much Gerard wanted his friends to know, but it's not like Bert could go and wake him up yet.
"Well, what happened?" Mikey sounded concerned and Bert couldn't help but feel bad for him. The poor kid, he must be constantly worrying about his brother.
"I uh, I don't know if he'd want me talking to you about it, Mikes"
Without Bert being sure why, Mikey's expression suddenly stiffened, and his face dropped from a look for concern into a look of dread and hopelessness.
"He drank again, didn't he." The younger brother said out loud. It didn't even sound like a question, but more of a realisation that he didn't want to establish.
Bert sighed, "yeah," he said defeated, "he did."
A silence fell upon the room, before Frank broke it by asking "why didn't you stop him?"
Bert immediately felt defensive. "I'm sorry, was pouring the rest of his alcohol down the sink not good enough,"
Frank rolled his eyes reinstated- "I meant why didn't you stop him in the first place? Weren't you with him all day yesterday? Where'd he even get the alcohol from?"
Bert became angry. He felt as though he was being interrogated, and he wasn't happy about it.
"He got it from a store." Bert admitted.
"What?" Mikey asked, sounding irritated. "And you just let him?"
"He's a grown man!" Bert exclaimed. "He said it was for all of us, and anyway, how the fuck was I meant to know that he was going to drink half a goddamn bottle while I was gone for no more than ten minutes?"
"Guys, guys," Bob said, suddenly speaking up. "Arguing about this isn't going to do anything. We need to figure out a way to help Gerard, and bitching to each other like a bunch of school girls isn't going to solve anything."
Everyone paused- "he's right,"Mikey realised. "Sorry Bert,"
"Yeah, Sorry" frank added.
"No it's- uh- it's fine. I just don't know how to help him. I'm not sure what to do."
"There's nothing to do." A quiet voice suddenly spoke. It was Gerard.
His eyes were still bloodshot from where he had been crying for so long. It contrasted his paper white skin and dark eyebrows.
"I'm gonna be alright." Gerard announced. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than the others, though. He looked empty, like he had died and the man that Bert saw in front of him was just a poor imitation.
"Gerard, you can't say that with no actual intention to get better." Bert remarked softly.
Gerard bit his lip, and stared out of the large tinted window.
"Yeah, Maybe not" he muttered, before sitting next to Bert on the couch, leaning against him and lighting a cigarette.
"I'll do better," he said mechanically.
Bert sighed and kissed the top of his head, breathing in the smell of coffee and cigarettes.
"Good."