Just Sleep

It's after midnight when a loud uneven banging drags Ray out of sweet babe-filled dreams and he groans in annoyance at the familiar noise. Stumbling groggily through his apartment in his underwear, he turns on all the lights and unbolts the door, opening it to reveal exactly what he knew would be there: a very drunk and fucked-up Gerard Way.
“Heyyy,” Gerard slurs, grinning a lop-sided leer that doesn't quite reach his eyes as he squints up at his taller friend from behind wet greasy hair, “You wanna party?”
“No, I really don't,” Ray grumbles, dragging the smaller man into the apartment and shutting the door behind him, “Shit, how long have you been off the wagon? I thought you were just gonna talk to Frankie, not get wasted with him!”
Gerard sniffles and waves clumsily at nothing, stumbling woozily around the tiny apartment, “Shit happens,” he mumbles, avoiding Ray's concerned gaze and scratching his dripping hair, “It's raining outside, can I drink in here?”
“No,” Ray growls, grabbing a dish towel from the kitchen area and throwing it at his loaded friend, “And you're not supposed to mix your new meds with alcohol but surprise, surprise you did it anyway! I love you man, but I don't know how to deal with you when you're in self-destruct mode. You can't keep fucking yourself over like this! I'm worried sick over here!”

He doesn't mean to sound angry but it's late and he's tired and the words bite like bullets through the stuffy air. Gerard's drunken smile instantly vanishes . Turning away from Ray, he staggers wordlessly over to the couch and collapses with his head in his hands. An empty vodka bottle drops out of his coat and rolls over the floorboards to stop at Ray's feet and the taller man reluctantly picks it up and throws it in the trash. Shaking his head as if in pain, Gerard curls up with his face buried in the soggy bandages on his arm and whimpers as his wet boots stain the couch cushions. “What happened today?” Ray asks gently, grabbing an empty mop bucket from under the sink and pouring a glass of water for his inebriated pal. He puts the bucket on the floor nearby and sits down at the opposite end of the couch to his drunken friend, shoving Gerard's muddy boots off the cushions.
“I-I fucked up,” Gerard sobs, “I d-don't know how but I did. I always do! Frankie h-hates me now!”
“He doesn't hate you,” Ray says patiently, nudging the glass of water against Gerard's elbow until the other man finally sits up and takes the drink with trembling hands, his teeth clicking against the glass as he tries to take a sip.
“I f-fucked up,” he whimpers again, “I fucked up and n-now, I just... I f-feel like what's the fucking point of any of this shit? I'm a bad person, Ray, I do bad things! I sh-should just fucking DIE!”
“No, no, come on please don't say that,” Ray begs, slipping an arm around Gerard's heaving shoulders and pulling him into a sad half-hug, resting his forehead against his friend's wet hair. “You're not a bad person, Gee. You're my friend and I love you, man. You're not a bad guy.”
“Then w-why does Frank h-hate me?”
“He doesn't hate you. He flew all the way to Florida to make sure you were okay. He loves you, Gee. He's been so messed up over you for the last few weeks, you don't even know! Tell me what happened today. Did you have a fight?”
“No... not really. I dunno what I did wrong but h-he yelled at me! He n-never used to yell, even when I h-hurt him with Bert he never yelled like that! I'm hurting h-him, Ray, I m-make him hurt!”
“Shhhh, no you don't. Come on, calm down,” Ray whispers, rubbing his friend's back in small soothing circles, “We can talk about this more in the morning when you feel better, okay?”
“Mmm.”
“Okay? For real, Gee, do I need to call your doctor?”
“No. Fuck. I'm just s-so fucking tired of this shit, y'know? So tired of being like... me.”
“I know, buddy. I know.”
“Can I sleep in my clothes?”
“Well I'm not gonna undress you, so yeah. Do you wanna eat something before you go to sleep?”
Gerard moans and shakes his head, sipping some more water and wiping his eyes with a clumsy hand before suddenly lurching forwards and dropping the glass, his face turning deathly pale. Ray barely gets the bucket under his friend's mouth in time to catch the vomit.

***
It's nearly 1am and the sky is raining cats and dogs over New Jersey, hammering the streets and rooftops with cold Atlantic rain. Linda is relaxing in her sister Bethany's living room with a cup of mint tea and an old episode of 'Friends' when her cell phone rings loudly from her handbag in the hall. Ignoring the noise, Linda cuddles closer to her big sister and they laugh at Chandler's jokes until the phone rings again and again and Bethany finally throws up her hands and cries, “Go answer it already!”
Linda rolls her eyes and grabs the remote, pausing the show and retreating to the hall to grab her phone. She has four missed calls from Frank and the sight of them on the tiny screen sends a flash of fear curdling through her stomach. Her son never calls her, let alone in the middle of the night.
Hurriedly hitting the return call button, she puts the phone to her ear just in time to hear Frank pick up on the first ring. “Mom?”
“Yes sweetie, it's me. Are you okay?”
There's a small sob and a stifled gasping on the line that tears through Linda's heart. Her son sounds terrified. “Frank, answer me! Are you okay?”
“No! M-Mommy, please come home!”
Clutching the phone tight, Linda exchanges a frantic glance with Bethany who immediately fetches her car keys.
“Okay baby, I'll be home soon. Are you alright? What happened?”
“N-Nothing. I just...I think I'm s-sick. Mom, please come!”
“Okay, Frankie. I'm on my way but I need to hang up now so I can drive, okay baby? Frankie?”
The line has already gone dead.

***
When Linda gets home twenty minutes later she finds her son cowering on the bathroom floor next to a puke-stained toilet sobbing and chewing on his knuckles so hard he's making them bleed. The moment he sees her he lets out a raw breathless wail and she's so shocked to see her 18-year-old child crying like a toddler that she doesn't speak at first, just holds him close and rubs his back, rocking him gently and worrying when he can't catch his breath. His hands are cold and clammy but his face is hot and running with sweat and he can't stop shaking. No matter how many times she asks him what triggered this emotional overload, he won't answer and just clings tighter to her like his life depends on it.

Eventually out of desperation and for the sake of his dignity, she gives him some of her personal valium supply which she only usually takes to fly on airplanes. The pills work quickly on his empty stomach or perhaps she gave him too much because soon he's quiet and sleepy and she finally manages to pry his clutching hands off her waist and guide him to his room. With a dazed exhausted look in his eyes he burrows into bed without a word and within minutes he's fast asleep. Linda kneels at his bedside and strokes his soft brown hair for a while, wishing that she wasn't a single parent and had someone else around to help her figure this out. After texting Bethany goodnight, she creeps around Frank's messy room looking for clues about what might have upset him so much but there's nothing obvious amiss and she feels guilty for prying into his life. The window is open and letting in rain so before she leaves she tiptoes over to slide it shut and notices something odd lying on the carpet. Bending down to pick it up, she examines the object in the dim light from the hallway and frowns in confusion. It's a large nylon sling.

Notes

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((Sorry if there are spelling errors, I have no beta lol.
Do you like still this story? Would you like to see some sex in it at some point?
Let me know :)
xx))