Burn All The Empires

Neon lights danced and beats pulsed as he felt each of his muscles contracting. He wasn't cold, but his aching body shook. He wasn't tired, but his heavy lidded eyes kept fading to darkness. He wasn't scared, but he kept on the edge of his seat in apprehension.

Looking out a window, he heard the steady taps of rain as street lights flickered on and off. Another bolt of lightning sent his shoulders tensing and his back arching. For a moment, he wondered if the cops would show up. He knew he couldn't run from anyone or anything in his condition.

He also wondered if he was alive or dead. The constant dreaming brought on from disconnection left two realities, high and crashing low, neither of which he could live in comfortably. Another line and another shot later, Gerard let his doubts flood out of him.

"How much more have you got?" he asked, barely above a whisper though he was sure he was shouting. His partner in crime only chuckled, deep and low and toxic.

"How much more do you need, you fuckin' junkie?" the man laughed. Gerard closed his eyes, wishing away the spinning room and the still silence. His head hurt so bad, but he wanted more pain. More pain to erase his thoughts. More.

"Fuck you, Bert. Don't fucking call me that."

His hands ran over his face, feeling the smooth skin, pulling it down until his eyes felt like they would fall out. It worried him; he hardly felt the touch of his fingers, hardly noticed the fingernails raking down his neck. Pain. Pain. Pain. He needed to feel the pain.

Trying to focus on Bert, who was pulling another baggie from his pocket, he let his head tilt to the side. He missed someone. He wasn't sure who, but he was certain he had to miss someone. Or did he hate someone? Why was he hiding? There had to have been something; something to bring him back. If he could just remember what.

"It's kind of fuckin' funny, isn't it?" Bert asked, laughing like a hyena as he prepared more poison to drown them in. Gerard looked up, not wanting to speak anymore for fear his voice would shatter everything.

"You know, you're an addict, and you're..." Bert stopped, laughing to hard to continue.

"I'm what?" Gerard felt his stomach tightening, felt those neon lights dancing and those beats pulsing in his blood.

"You're in My Chemical Romance! Fuck man, was that your idea? That's so fuckin' perfect." Bert inhaled, swiping his head side to side before laying down and looking up at Gerard. Gerard's stomach clenched. He wanted to rip Bert in half and make him feel as unworthy as he did.

"I'm not a fucking addict. I didn't name the fucking band either. God dammit, where is my fucking line?" He shook, feeling sweat gather near his temples.

"Your share has been there this entire time, man. Fucking take it." Bert put his sunglasses on, stretching out and taking up most of the room on the compact tour bus couch.

"I'm not an addict, Bert." Gerard said, wiping his nose after a line he swore was longer than the others. He floated over to the table with the liquor, knowing he'd need a lot to balance out the last hit. As he took a shot, feeling the flames scorch his lungs, he saw Bert walk up towards him. Arms encircled his waist as soft lips and scratchy stubble met his cheek. The kisses were gentle, moving around his jaw, leaving him helpless. He wanted to be his own person, he really did. He wanted to deal, to connect, but hiding behind this man, this alcohol, and this line was so much easier. He turned a bit and pushed his mouth hard against Bert's. His fingers reached out to Bert's dirty strands of hair, only to find there still wasn't much feeling in them. As he opened his mouth, Bert began to pull away, smirking through clouded vision.

"You're right, Gerard." He brought his mouth to Gerard's ear, whispering. "You're a fuckin' homosexual, alcoholic addict."

Burning anger ignited in Gerard. He shoved Bert back, so roughly that Bert's back landed on the floor. Even as his head snapped back and slapped the ground, Bert was laughing hysterically. Gerard felt tears in the corner of his eyes but knew nothing but anger and numbness could get through. He kicked the table next to Bert, causing the vodka and tequilla bottles to fly off and crash next to his enemy's form. He had to leave. He couldn't take more pain. He had to fucking leave.

"I'm done with you, Bert. I'm done with this shit." Gerard said as he slowly stumbled off The Used's tour bus, praying to God he could make it back to his own.

Bert only laid there and smiled. His fingers tapped the floor. He knew Gerard would be back. He saw how easily Gerard gave in to those neon lights, those pulsing beats, only if for a short time. He knew, because he was the one who brought the older man into this world in the first place.

"You'll never fucking stop! You'll never be more than nothing!" Bert screamed, hoping it was meant for Gerard and not himself.