It had been a few days since the incident, and Mikey was sure that Gerard would never fully recover.

"Gee..." Mikey said, running his fingers through his brother's greasy, limp hair. "Frank is a complete dick, and you don't need him."

"I know," Gerard said dismally, sniffing. "But I love him, Mikey."

"Well, that's too bad," Mikey countered. "Because you can't keep loving someone who doesn't love you. Now, I know you'll hate me, but you need to get out." Gerard groaned and Mikey talked over Gerard's noises. "At least take a shower. Your hair is gross."

"...Wanna cut it all off," Gerard murmured. "Just at my ear. Gone."
"Gone?" Mikey repeated.

"Gone."

Hours later, Gerard exclaimed: "Holy shit, it's gone!" While running his hand along his now-shortened hair, he murmured: "It's all gone. Holy shit. Are you sure this looks good?"

"If you ask me that one more time..." Mikey started, clenching his hands into fists. "Yes, Gee. It looks fine. Your black dye job was starting to look raggedy anyway."

Before Gerard could say anything more, his back pocket started to buzz. He pulled out his phone and saw that Ray was calling. It was a strange occurrence when Ray was awake before noon, so a call at 10:00 in the morning was highly abnormal.

"Hey, Gee," Ray said when Gerard answered. "Ready for today?"

"What's today?" Gerard asked.

"Your AA meeting! Did you forget?"

"My..." Gerard started and caught a glance of his brother out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, connecting the guilty look on Mikey's face, coupled with Ray's obvious obliviousness on the matter, everything snapped into place. "Oh, yeah. I'm ready, I guess."

"Good to hear," Ray said. "I'm just calling to let you know that you can call me if you need anything. Okay?"

"Got it," Gerard said and hung up. He slowly turned to Mikey, trying to keep his rage to a minimum. "How the fuck did you know?"

After a moment, Mikey exploded: "I'm sorry, but I've been noticing some things and I did some research and it's at the college tonight and I feel really bad for keeping this from you..."

Gerard was secretly thankful that Mikey had signed him up for AA. He never would have done it himself, and it would be best for him.

"I want Frank there with me," Gerard said suddenly.
"What? Why?"

"Because he was the first person I told about this," Gerard said. "And maybe we can work everything out afterwards."

Mikey didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he did. He nodded instead, then saying: "If that's what you want. Call him and tell him."

Almost immediately, across town, Frank tore himself away from the cigarette between his lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke and extracting his vibrating phone out of his pocket. Gee <3 the screen read, and Frank thought two things: (A), I need to change his contact, and (B) why the fuck is he calling me? "Hello?" Frank asked, trying to not frown.

"Hi, Frank," Gerard said and Frank could tell that he was trying his hardest not to add "-ie" onto the end of Frank's name. "So, umm... Mikey signed me up for AA, and I want you to be at my first meeting. With me. Tonight."

Frank took a drag before answering, using those few moments to compose himself and his thoughts. "Why me?" He asked simply.

"You were the first person I admitted my sobriety thing to..." Gerard trailed and a muffled cry sounded from his side of the line. "And Mikey figured it out. But... Yeah. Will you come with me?"

Frank sighed and dropped his cigarette to the cement, crushing it under the heel of his shoe. "Yeah, I'll come with you," he said. "When and where?"

"It's at NYU tonight at 6:00," Gerard told him. "Thank you so much for doing this."

"You're welcome," Frank said and Gerard hung up. Frank pocketed his phone once more, shivering against a sudden cold wind. Who the hell, he wondered, Sets up an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting on Halloween? It was completely ridiculous, he decided.

But Gerard's getting the help he needs, Frank countered himself. Who cares if it's on Halloween? Gerard needs help.

---

---

"Hey," Gerard said, opening the front door.

Frank's eyes immediately widened at Gerard's new hair, and he stuttered out: "H-hi."

"I know, it's pretty short," Gerard smiled, examining Frank. "You got a tattoo," Gerard observed and Frank passed his fingers over the scorpion high up on the right side of his neck.

"Oh, yeah," Frank said. "I got it a few days ago. I was gonna get it today but I didn't want it to hurt today."

"What's today..." Gerard started and trailed off immediately, remembering what he had forgotten. "Happy birthday."

"Finally 20," Frank said, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Thank God."

Under different circumstances, Gerard would have pulled Frank down to the basement and given him the fuck of his life, but he knew that he couldn't. "Okay, well, let's get going," Gerard mumbled, pulling the sleeves of his blue sweatshirt down over his knuckles.

The subway rides to the campus were torture for both Gerard and Frank; instinct wanted them to hold hands, sit as close as possible, be a couple. But both knew that that would have made the situation worse.

The meeting was in one of the basement rooms, with plastic chairs set up in a circle in the direct middle of the room. A table was set up across the room, with coffee and lemonade in various cups. Next to the cups were name tags with a Sharpie next to them, waiting to be filled out. People milled around the whole room; some were younger than Gerard, while others were generations older. Out of fear, Gerard gripped Frank's hand tightly, sure he was crushing all of the bones in the guitarist's hand.

"It's okay, Gee," Frank said quietly. "You'll be okay."

15 minutes later, Gerard's heart pounded as he stood up from his chair, swallowing hard. "Hi... Umm, I'm Gerard—"

The whole room echoed with: "Hi, Gerard." Gerard only blushed bright red, the color taking over his nose and cheeks.

"I..." He took a moment to compose himself before saying: "I've had a drinking problem since college and I want to get sober for my brother and..." He looked at Frank, sitting in one of the chairs next to him, and said wth hesitation: "And for Frank."

"How long have you been sober, Gerard?" One of the other people— her name tag read Amara— asked.

"Only, like... A day," Gerard squeaked timidly.

"That's okay," Amara said, smoothing down her frizzy, black hair. She pulled a small, gold coin out of the pocket of her jeans and handed to Gerard, the group clapping softly. "It's the first step, and that's always the hardest."

"Thanks..." Gerard said, turning the small, palm-sized coin over in his hand. Around the edge read To Thine Own Self Be True, with a triangle in the middle, each side reading service, recovery, and unity. "Thank you so much, Amara."

Gerard glowed with a bit of pride for the rest of the meeting, studying the coin every so often.

After the meeting ended, Frank and Gerard were ready to leave early, but they were stopped by Amara. "Hello, gentlemen," she said warmly, smiling and adjusting her eyeglasses. "Frank, can I talk to you?" She asked, surprising both of them.

"Umm... Yeah," Frank said, pushing the sleeves of his red plaid shirt up his arms and following Amara out to the hallway.

"So, how long have you and Gerard been together?" Amara asked. "It's definitely hard being there for a partner who's trying to get sober."

"Oh, umm... We're not dating," Frank said. "We're just... Really good friends. And Gerard was sober for a long time, but then he had an accidental relapse about a month ago."

"Oh, sure," Amara said, crossing her arms over her chest, and nodding. She looked around, checking that no-one else was there, and stepped closer to Frank. "I can tell that you love Gerard," she whispered. "Just how you two look at each other and how you two lock pinkies instead of holding hands. It's really sweet."

This shocked Frank silent. Were they really that obvious? "Thank you for that," Frank nodded, trying not to cry. "I kinda needed to hear that."

"Why do you mean?" Amara asked.

"Well... Gerard and I used to date, but I... Was unfaithful to him, and..." Frank coughed before adding: "I still love him. But he doesn't love me anymore."

"If he doesn't love you anymore, riddle me this: why you?" Amara asked. "He could have asked anyone to come with him to the meeting, yet he asked you. Why is that?"

"I was the first person he told about breaking his sobriety...?" Frank asked, scratching his head. "I didn't read too much into it."

"Because he trusts you," Amara said. "He still loves you, Frank. I promise; just ask him."

Just ask him, echoed around in Frank's the whole rest of the night. Only did it stop when Gerard said: "'Night, Frank."

Frank tore himself out of his thoughts to see that they were in front of Gerard's house, the street lamp giving off a small amount of warm light. "Oh," Frank said quietly and wrapped Gerard in a tight hug. "'Night, Gerard. Good luck with the sobriety thing."

"Thanks," Gerard said, burying his face in Frank's neck. "Bye."

Neither pulled away and, from the living room window, Mikey watched the whole scene play out. The curtains were pulled back just enough for him to glimpse his brother pull away from Frank. Gerard's spoke— of course, Mikey couldn't hear what he was saying— and Frank clutched Gerard's sweatshirt in his fists, pulling Gerard back to him and kissing him.

Mikey dropped the curtain, confused. What the hell is going on? He didn't have much longer to dwell on it, as, at that moment, Frank and Gerard came into the house. Not even giving Mikey any acknowledgement, Gerard pressed Frank up against the closed door and kissed the tattoo on Frank's neck, nudging Frank's legs open with his knee.

Silently, Mikey escaped downstairs, locking the door. Then, thinking about the night a few days before and his mistake of not covering his ears, he slipped on his headphones and started up Anthrax, hoping the guitar would drown out his brother and his apparent rebound.

Notes

Okay, but I love Bullets!Gee with all my heart.

.::stay lovely::.

xoøli