April 13th, Tuesday
"How did I get roped into breaking into my own house?" asked Mikey, raising an eyebrow at Frank. The smaller boy just grinned impishly and glanced down at the small basement window. The lights were off (unsurprisingly) and there were no signs of life inside. He pushed open the window and let Mikey grab his wrists and lowered himself to the cement floor. He flicked on his flashlight -- he came fucking prepared this time -- and shuffled closer to the bed, where he saw a small black lump laying, unmoving, on the covers. It clutched a piece of black clothe tightly between it's fingers, holding it close to it's face.
"Hey Mikes," said Frank quietly, twisting his neck to call over his shoulder, not taking his eyes from the crumpled form on the bed, "I think I found your brother." He moved forward and shook Gerard's shoulder lightly. "Gerard," he whispered, "Gee, c'mon, hun, wake up." He wasn't entirely sure where the pet name came from, but he wasn't entirely concerned over it because Gerard wasn't waking up.
He turned Gerard onto his back and was relieved to see his chest rise and fall with small, shallow breathes. Mikey stood behind him, his own breathing ceasing. "Lift up his shirt," he commanded, already fearing the worst.
Frank swallowed and did as he was told. He didn't like the way Gerard's ribs and hips jutted out so prominently and he didn't like how his pale skin was stretched so tightly over his bones. He muttered curses under his breath and turned the flashlight on the trays of food that sat there; the untouched pills rolling next to the bottles of water. There were only two tray resting on the desk, meaning Harriet was still coming down to take care of the neglected seventeen year old.
Mikey, without being asked, moved to flick on the light, illuminating the boy and casting eerie shadows over his bones and face. They could see the deep circles under his eyes and the never-been-brushed-ever hair spread across the pillow. It surpassed sex hair and moved right on into I-just-stuck-my-head-in-a-ceiling-fan territory.
"Oh, Gerard," sighed the shortest boy, gazing at the emaciated male sadly. He reached forward and smoothed some hair from his face. In reply, he groaned and flicked his eyes open, staring at the concerned faces hovering above him.
It took his groggy mind a moment to process the image, but when it did, he launched himself up, knocking the two boys to the floor and releasing an inhuman cry. His friends were back; they didn't leave him! "Mikey! Frank!" He was crying again and he couldn't hear what they were saying anymore.
"Gerard--" Don't trust "--ove you--" leave us "--ver here. Stay with m--" suffocating "--are you listenin--" end it "--take the pill, hun--" stop it "--Please."
Get away from us.
The words were swarming around in his head, creating a mega-bomb of a headache. He could feel himself being laid onto something soft and a small capsule being shoved down his throat. He felt something soft and warm brush his cheek and sighed, groping for the black fabric he had been holding so tightly before. He found it finally and let his blurry eyes drift closed. He felt a pressure on the bed and smiled hesitantly. It was just a ghost of one, but it made him feel better.
"Sleep well, Gee; we'll be back really soon, okay? I have a surprise for you when we get back."
The smile grew on his face before he drifted away into a finally peaceful sleep.

Notes

I just gotta say, you guys really do inspire me. That's why I pumped out that chapter so early this morning and why I'm doing another now. Thanks to thelamewriter and BLOOD'Y REVENGE, two very avid commenters who just make my day every time I update. Not to mention all of my new Internet friends, even if you don't read this. I just can't thank you all enough.
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-Stitches