Don't Go

You win. I wrote more. I didn't know if I'd be able to, considering the inspiration for the piece was gone, but I managed and I think I did so pretty damn well, if I do say so myself.

I don't think it's the last part, but it could be...

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but Frankie owns your ass! (At least, that's what it says on my cell phone.)

Don't Go
Part Two

Gerard's eyes kept falling shut and Bert kept gently shaking him. So long without a high and mixing three different drugs wasn't having the typical effect Xanax and vodka usually did.

"Don't let me die." Gerard whispered, nuzzling against Bert's neck, his clammy hands shaking against Bert's chest and arm. "Please don't let me die."

"You're not going to, Gerard." Bert promised, kissing Gerard's forehead before resting his chip atop his older friend's head.

"My head's going to explode." the other whispered. "My eyes are going to fall out. I'm going blind! There's blood, blood! So much blood!"

Bert put his hands on either side of Gerard's face. "Look at me."

"I can't see."

"Open your eyes, Gerard."

"They are open."

"God dammit, Gerard!" Two hazel eyes flew open and Bert managed a thin smile. "You're not blind, babe." he said softly. "There's no blood, see?"

Gerard's shaky, bloodshot eyes couldn't comprehend the latter part, but he registered his best friend's voice. "Y-You . . . Bert . . . I'm scared."

"I know, Gee, I know." Bert's thumbs lightly stroked Gerard's warm cheeks. "But I'm here, hon, and I'm not going anywhere."

Gerard smiled and his head relaxed against the pillow again. For a moment, at least. His eyes widened impossibly and Bert sat straight up as there was a quick knock on the door.

"Gee?"

"Jesus Christ." Bert muttered, looking at the man next to him. "Mikey, do not come in here."

"Bert? What the fuck's going on?"

"Mikey, just don't come in here, okay?" Bert snapped, shushing Gerard with a soft finger to the lips.

"Look, you're freaking me out, man. Is Gerard even in there?" Bert heard the electronic lock working.

"Get the fuck out!" Bert all but screamed. He tried to stand up, but Gerard picked that moment to start sobbing again and Bert's attention instantly refocused. "Gerard?" He laced his fingers with his friend's pale ones. "Gerard, babe, it's okay. Don't worry."

"He's high." Mikey said in monotone.

Bert didn't respond, just continued to whisper reassurances to his best friend. "It's going to be okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Calm down, Gee, okay? Deep breaths, all right? No, Gerard, keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby. Look at me."

Slowly, Gerard's sobbing quieted and he just lay there, hiccupping and playing with Bert's fingers.

"What did he take?" Mikey asked.

"What part of 'get the fuck out' and 'don't come in' do you not understand?" Bert asked, head turned and voice so quiet it could kill.

"How long have you been doing this?" Mikey demanded. "He's supposed to be clean. You should have said--"

"I didn't know, okay?" Bert's voice cracked and he looked at Gerard, his hand coming up to stroke his sweat soaked hair. "I didn't know." he whispered. Mikey started for the door. "Sit down." Bert growled, his head turned once more.

"I'm going to--"

"You aren't telling anyone and you're aren't calling anyone. He needs to come down. We'll worry about the rest later." Bert said.

"What he needs is--"

"Mikey, if you give a shit about your brother, you'll sit the fuck down now." Gerard's hand reached up and Bert took it. "He needs to come off this without any extra shit, all right?"

Slowly, Mikey released the door handle and turned, sitting on the couch. His eyes were fixed on Bert and his brother.

"I'm scared." Gerard whispered again. "It's so hot in here. My face is melting off."

"No." Bert said gently. "It's not. I'm looking at you and you're fine. I'm not letting anything happen to you, okay?" Gerard nodded and ws softly shaken again when his eyes started to close.

"Why not let him sleep?" Mikey asked softly.

"He can't sleep for five or six hours after a high like this. The hallucinations he wakes up to are a hell of a lot worse than his face melting off." Bert answered, laying back down and letting Gerard's head rest on his chest.

"You know a lot about it." Mikey commented, almost apologetically.

"Yeah, I do." Bert agreed. He looked at Gerard and held up a hand with only two fingers displayed. "Gee, babe, can you see my hand?"

Gerard nodded.

"How many fingers, baby?"

"Th-Three?" Bert kissed the top of Gerard's head and let the man grip his hand again. "Was I wrong?"

"No, hon, you were right." Bert looked up and saw Mikey, who was staring determinedly at his hands, jaw clenched. "You okay?"

"Fine." Mikey forced out.

"You never saw him come down before?"

"Not like that." Mikey whispered, a tear falling down his cheek. "How do you do it?"

"He's my best friend." Bert said softly, bringing his other hand up to stroke Gerard's hair. "I just do."

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