Angry, swollen hazel eyes burned down at me. "What the fuck are you doing, Krissy?" I cringed at the hard fury in his voice, and felt tears break free again. "I-I don't know!" I wailed. "I just can't... I can't do this!" My sobs shook me. He sat down next to me. "Can't do what, exactly?" He still sounded mad. "My mother is lying in a hospital bed, and YOU 'can't do it'?" His tone was fierce and almost mocking. The way he worded it made me sound ridiculous. I was ridiculous. I was acting so pathetic. I looked down, staring at my still-bleeding arm, watching the blood start to congeal and thicken. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "Gerard, I am so, so sorry. I- this is all my fault. I'm such a fuck-up, I got your mum shot because of my stupid fucking problems, I should have just left you alone, I've made such a mess in your life, you must hate me so much, Gerard, I'm so fucking sorry, I love you so much and look what I've done to you, I-" My word-vomit was cut off by a palm being pressed against my mouth. I looked up at Gerard, he was staring at me, his wide eyes still angry, but now also shocked, confused and pained. "You... you think this is your fault?" His voice was soft. I stared, not understanding. Of course it was my fault. "Well, yeah..." I whispered. "Mitch sent that guy because of me, because you stuck up for me. If I wasn't here, Donna would be fine. Everything would be fine." He shook his head. "No, it wouldn't. If you weren't with us, that bastard would still be beating you senseless." I shrugged, looking away. "Who cares?" He grabbed my chin, staring intensely into my eyes. "I care. Frank, Mikey, Ray, they care. My parents care." I tried to pull away, but he held my face steadily. I argued instead. "Look where that got you!" I cried. "All I've done is bring a load of shit to you all! Taken up space in your house, lived off you, let you spend money on me, I got you involved in a fight with Mitch, nearly got you stabbed in an alleyway, and now this! I'm a walking disease, I just hurt everyone who comes near me. Tell me, Gerard, why the fuck should any of you care about me?" My face was tinged pink from yelling this at him, I stared straight at him, confident for once, challenging him to give me one good reason why he should give a shit. His pretty eyes softened. "Because I love you," he told me, moving his fingers from my jaw to run them over my cheek. I sniffed, still crying. "But, why?" My voice was barely audible. He studied me. "Lots of reasons, Kriss. You're smart, cute, funny, and fucking gorgeous. You have a really sweet personality, no matter how bad things get you always put other people first. Anyone can see you've been through some really tough shit, and yet you're still here, you're still fighting, and you're still strong. THAT is why I love you." He looked so sincere, but I couldn't help but doubt, as always. I pointed to my ragged, bloody arm. "You call this strong?" I asked stubbornly. He took my hand. "I call this the mark of someone in pain. I'm not going to criticize you for cutting, I can't really can I? I did it too once, don't forget." I sighed. He stood up. "Come on, let's clean you up." He led me inside the hospital, angling our bodies so that he was concealing my arm from view. He took me to a set of toilets, and looked up at the ladies sign on the door. He scowled for a moment, and I heard him mutter, "Oh, fuck it." He pushed the door a little, stuck his head in, then pulled me into the room. "Gee, this is a ladies bathroom, you can't just walk in!" I gasped, giggling a little. He smirked. "I can and I am and I will," he informed me. He took me over to the sinks, then after a moments consideration told me not move and dashed out. He returned quickly with a handful of bandages. I raised my eyebrows. "Where did you get those?" He just looked at me. "We're in a hospital," he said slowly. I rolled my eyes and he turned his attention to my arm. He dampened some paper towels, and gently wiped away all of the blood, before wrapping my arm in bandages until it looked mummified. Then he washed away all evidence of my blood, threw away the paper towels, and pulled me into his arms. "All fixed," he said softly, smiling down at me. "But, Kriss," his smile faded. "Don't do that again." I nodded soberly. "And, listen," he continued. "None of this is your fault." I couldn't nod at that. "It's not! Kriss, you can't blame yourself. You didn't ask for any of this. It's his fault, Mitch. HE hurt you. HE started that fight in the alley. HE got mom shot. Not you. I don't regret helping you, Krissy. None of us do, not even Mom, and she's the one who got shot. Just, go easy on yourself, okay? You-" he was cut off by the door of the restroom opening. "Ah, shit," I heard him mutter. I was confused at first, until a large, stern-faced woman in jeans way too tight for her walked in, and froze when she saw Gerard with his arms round me. "Young man, this is a ladies restroom, as I am sure you are well aware. I, and I'm sure the other women in this establishment, do not appreciate you staging your vulgar romantic escapades here. Who do you think you are, a modern day Romeo? I suggest you leave, before I call security." Gerard and I wordlessly left, biting our lips to hold in hysterical laughter at her insane statement. Well I was, anyway. The minute the door swung shut behind us I burst into a fit of giggles. He studied me disapprovingly, before giving in and laughing just as hard. When we had finally recovered, he took my hand, kissed my knuckles, and said, "Come on, Juliet, let's go see how Mother is faring." Snorting, I let my Romeo lead me away.

Notes

They see me rollin', they hatin'. I'm sorry, that's so lame. But I'm happy, after neglecting this all week, I present two chapters. What do you guys think? You know I love your comments, even though this damn site won't let me reply to them... Bleugh. Anyway, enjoy and all that. Oh, and the ladies bathroom thing? Completely random and unnecessary, I know, but it came to me while I was writing and I couldn't resist :) Paranoia Violence out xo