Would You Still Care?

*Gerard*
"Ugh... hey Mikes..." I mumbled to his grave. I almost waited for him to give me a smartass reply, knowing he couldn't, I continued. "I miss you so fucking much!" I grasped and pulled at the grass below me.
"You know, sometimes I feel like you are right next to me, then I turn to look. You...are never there. When I'm feeling like shit... just sitting wallowing in my own pity...is when I miss you the most. You would always try to cheer me up, telling me their words mean nothing and that you love me. I miss that...I miss you. In the mornings too, I want you to steal coffee from me...I need my baby brother..." I trailed off tears running down my face, I gave up trying to wipe them away and just put my face in the grass.
I groaned, picking my head off the ground and looked at his grave again. I tried to capture the last time I saw him smile, it wasn't too difficult, the kid was always smiling. I always envied him for that, he would light up the room. I wish I made him stay home that night. It's all my fault, had I listened to him when he told me he had a bad feeling in his gut, he could still be here. I could still have my brother. I sat up and pushed myself up against his headstone, more tears running down my face.
Sometimes I envy him for being dead. I know that sounds terrible, trust me I do. It just hurts to be left behind, knowing you could have stopped it from happening, knowing that he should be attending your burial, not the other way around. 'Mikey if only you could see me now.' I thought. I looked like a wreck, greasy hair everywhere, dirt from tugging out the grass under my nails, eyeliner all over my eyes like a panda. Yeah, I looked great.
Turning to Mikey's grave once more, I finally broke down completely, my mind going to that night. I sobbed for, who knows how long, before calming down slightly. It's been almost a year, Gerard, get a grip. Mikey would want you to move on, try to be happy, find something you love and do it. Not this, he wouldn't want this in a million years. Stop think of what you don't have and start thinking of what you do.
"I have Frank." I mumbled, then realization hit. "I have Frank." I said with more adoration and vigor. Frank, reminds me of Mikey sometimes, he always tries to play happy for me too, even when I know he's not. I think that's something we all do, we are all actors. We wear our masks so others won't see our true nature or pain, we don't want them to, but we need them to.
I see Frank's everyday, even when he is smiling. When I brought him to the hospital all I could think of was losing him. I felt like I was losing Mikey all over again.
"Mikes...I think, I'm in love." I imagined Mikey smiling at me and jokingly calling me gay. "He reminds me of you...you both try to keep me happy, even when you're not. Frank is a little messed up himself, but I'm the one talking to a grave...God I miss you." I muttered, my head in my hands. I eventually fell asleep, right there next to my brother.
*Frank*
"Dude, are you okay?" I was nudged awake by a foot and the voice of the school stoner. He was a nice guy, Reilly, I believe. "You don't look too good...what happened to your face, man?" Well that was a blunt way to put it. I brushed my hand along my jaw, wincing as I touched the bruising.
"Ugh...nothing...must have passed out...and hit my head on the...sink? Don't you hate hangovers?"
"Bruh, I've been stoned and I haven't passed out bad enough to do that much damage." Reilly shakes his head and walks to the sink, then proceeds to light up a blunt. "Want a hit? Looks like you need it more than me." He holds the now lit blunt out for me to take.
"N-no thanks...uh...Reilly...thanks for waking me up." I stammered, heading for the door. Once up and walking, I started to feel my injuries. Where I broke my rib I could feel a definite bruise forming and my eye was black along with my jaw. I could feel the eyes of my peers following me, and could hear their whispers.
'Freak.'
'Fag.'
'Must have deserved it.'
"Heard his Dad abandoned him.'
'That Jared guy only took him in out of pity.'
Eventually their words were to much for me, tears welled in my eyes, pooling down my cheeks. I ran all the way to Gerard's car, digging the keys out of my pocket and turning it on. I sat there for awhile, my head on the steering wheel trying to calm my racing thoughts. They don't know you, Frank. When I thought I was calm enough, I took off, heading towards the only place that ever felt like home.
I walked into the house, noticing how it was oddly quiet. Hmm... He could just be sleeping. I checked his bedroom and turned up with nothing. Getting increasingly concerned, I started calling for him.
"Gerard!?" No response. Shit. He couldn't have gone far, I had his car. I looked out the kitchen window towards the cemetery, I almost didn't see him. He looked so small, so sad. Gerard was curled into a ball, hands gripping into the dirt. I looked at the headstone, taken aback.
'Michael James Way
Loving Brother and best friend
One of many car-crashed hearts
9/10/1980 - 7/9/1996'
I clamped my hand over my mouth, knowing why Gerard never talked about him. My poor baby, his only family ripped away from him. I knew that feeling, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. I kneeled down, taking his dirt covered, grass stained hands in my own.
"Gerard?" He groaned, looking up at me.
"Frank?" He whispered, suddenly looking concerned for me. "What happened to you?"
"Shh...We're focusing on you right now. What are you doing out here?" I could guess, no shit. Gerard shook his head not looking me in the eyes. "Please, Gee, tell me what's wrong." He sighed, taking his hands out of mine.
"I miss him." Tears started spilling down his cheeks, a northern downpour of sorts. I wiped the tears off with my thumb and pulled him into a hug. "I want him to piss me off, hide my favorite mug, yell at me. Anything. I just want my brother back." He started sobbing into my shoulder, tears soaking up into my shirt.
"It's okay, let it out." I mumbled into his hair. I kissed the top of his head, trying to comfort both of us.
"C-can w-we g-go inside?" He stuttered, his voice still thick with tears. I nodded, helping him up and walking us into the house.
"Do you just want to go to bed?" He mumbled something, that I took as a yes. I tucked him in and was about to leave, when he called me back.
"I don't want to be alone. Stay?" His voice was scratchy and his eyes pleading.
"Of course." I got in, pulling him into my body. I've never been the big spoon, I've never been a spoon. He eventually fell asleep, snoring softly, as did I.

Notes