I fell asleep unconsciously thinking I'd actually get a nice night of sleep, you know, because of the painkillers. I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong.

It was easily one of the worst nights I've ever had, maybe because of the feeling of deja-vù that it brought along. The painkillers were working fine. I wasn't.
I woke up with a sigh, turning my head to the window. The sky looked almost a daylight filled one, but instead of the sun shining, the moon was the one to make its magic.
It seemed like my whole life was passing by in my thought while I was awake. Every single day since the first one I can remember. My first memory was when I was learning how to ride a bike – and successfully learning about my first injury, too. I fell off the bike and scraped my left knee. The scar was nowhere to be seen in someone's eyes, but I still noticed it and I know exactly where it is. I know exactly where all my scars are, unfortunately. I still have some in my hands, from a panic attack I had at 18. I scratched the back of my hands until they bled. I have scars at the top of my thigh, and those you can really notice. Cliché enough, most of the scars I have belong to my heart and to my mind, but I really don't know which is in the worst state.
That night, I wasn't feeling lonely because Gerard wasn't there to hold my little body. (Well, yes, that too, but there was so much more besides that...).

I felt... lonely. And the last thing you want to feel when you're alone is lonely. Loneliness is feeling the void that, ironically, fills you up. It takes all of you from the inside. It's flammable because of the way it spreads, it's toxic because of the way it consumes you and drains all your motivation, all your hopes, and eventually translates itself on your physique. As for me, I remember the last times I felt loneliness to the point of not even being motivated to play the guitar. It hurt so bad, and it usually led to me crying myself until my head was at its limit before exploding, followed for emptying half of a cigarette pack and falling asleep with my eyes swollen, my mouth dry and all my strength being removed from my body as I curled myself on the bed, leaving the window open – sometimes I wouldn't even care if it rained or not. I couldn't be bothered to get up and do a five foot trip to my window from my bed. I'd just stare blankly to the rain.

When I met Gerard I wasn't aware that the loneliness could disappear so easily. But when I found out it could, I never would have imagined it could come back so fast, and above all, so strong.

Around 4:10am-ish was the time I started with my paranoia.

I'm an overthinker – it's just in my nature to think about something over and over again, and thinking of every single possible (and impossible) scenario. One minute I can think about something so small, so useless, so fucking indifferent to the universe and an hour later I'm having a conversation with myself thinking about how the fuck was the universe made. Silly, isn't it? Well, I'm Frank Iero. Nice to meet you, too.
Regarding my said-paranoia. That time was the time I started overthinking about him. And to overthink about someone who means the entire fucking world to you is literally one of those things that turn itself on a slow and self-destructive weapon with the blink of an eye. And you can't hold it back. That's probably the worst part of it: it is inevitable.

Gerard had been the person who had made me the happiest since the first day of my life I can remember. I could say my grandmother was the one who earned that title. But she was gone, and Gerard was alive. She made me happy when she was alive. But I was just a child. I wasn't aware of half of the things I'm aware of nowadays. So basically, the concept can't be applied because I wasn't mature enough to understand happiness – just to express it. And yes, that's possible.

Take Christmas mornings as an example: when you're young, you think if you've been a good boy or a good girl throughout the year, you'll be rewarded with presents. When Christmas morning comes, you get excited to see if you got that Barbie you wanted for so long with the long dark hair and all the dresses that came alongside the doll, or that shirt from your favorite football club for who you cheer with your dad while watching the match. As you get older, if someone offers you thing equivalent to those, according to your age, such as a CD from a band you love, or a book, or even a fucking bracelet, it can bring you happiness. (And that if you actually do get some sort of gift from someone. As for me I never had one since my grandma passed away.)
But you feel weird on the inside. Empty, somehow.
Want me to tell you a secret about that feeling?
You feel that emptiness because the person that gave you that CD from the band ou love, or a book, or even that fucking bracelet, is giving you something that will give you happiness, but you're old enough to understand that the happiness it gave you won't stick for long. The chances are that, one: you'll grow tired of it and put it somewhere in your bedroom or living room, only noticing it when you're about to move to another place; two: you'll get mad at the person and detach yourself from the gift; three: grow extremely fond of it, or four: forgetting about the time it gave you happiness. That was what was scaring me the most. What if with Gerard was going to be the same? I'm not comparing him to an object, hell no. But... What if one day, we both woke up and didn't remember about it? About the happiness we shared? What if one day he stopped loving me, or I stopped loving him? Okay, that's highly unlikely to happen, so let me reformulate.

What if,
Someday,
The happiness Gerard and I shared until then,
Just...
Faded?

It was all in my head. In my head and falling in the form of tears from my eyes; tears that were landing on the pillowcase, by my side. My heart monitor was slightly giving the signs that my heart rhythm was now accelerating, but it was only because of the act of crying. I was calm. Just sad. And lonely. But as I previously told you: it is inevitable. Especially for someone like me.

I took a look on my phone. I didn't even notice it was blinking. I had three text messages, two from Gerard and one from Mikes. I read Gerard's first.

(2:22am) From: Gee <3
I'm sorry if I'm waking you up my love. I can't sleep and it feels so empty without you here. I feel so lonely tonight. Lonely like I haven't been feeling in a long, long time. I know I just saw you hours ago, and I know as well that I'm going to see you in a few hours again, but... It's physically and mentally impossible for me to keep some sort of distance between us. It's just... Before there was only Mikes. But he's my brother. As much as I love him it's not the same, obviously. You just give my life a meaning. You're... my soulmate. (remember when you didn't believe that was possible? haha)

(2:24am) From: Gee <3
I'll shut up now. I'm sorry.
I love you to the moon and back. <3

Fuck. Why was I overthinking about him? Why was I becoming paranoid about this man and the love we feel for each other? I was wrapped up in the comfort of his love. And he gave a shit about me. He gave me a life. He gave me happiness. And at that moment, I felt like a child, I could only express happiness.
Next, it was Mikey's message turn.

(4:06am) From: Mikes :)
hey, man... sry if im wakin u up. just wanted 2 say u're awesome 'n i can't wait 2 have u home. :) xo

First of all: what is it with these people sending text messages to a guy who should be sleeping in his hospital bed? (Yeah, I should. I wasn't. So I couldn't really be mad.)
Secondly: Wow. Okay. I'm still trying to figure out the meaning behind Mikey's text. Nevertheless, it was so adorable. He's adorable. (Shut up, Frank.)
I giggled to myself. They both have so distinct ways to text, it was so funny to watch. Kind of heart-warming too, if one must say. And I got to thinking... Gerard read my fucking mind. It was the only explanation I found for him to text me telling me about what he was feeling, almost the exact way I was feeling before. Either this soulmate-bullshit is really true or my theory of ''Wizard Way'' was confirmed with that text.

With all that, I couldn't help but to finally fall asleep, this time with a wide smile drawn all over my lips, and I planned to sleep until they came to visit me. Oh, and I was going home later that day too – that was great!

---

-...you just need to sign here, and here, and he's good to go! - The nurse handed a form to Gerard by the end of the day so I was free again. Mikey was there too, staring at me and smiling at his feet all the fucking time, while I got dressed. Jesus, it might sound bad but sometimes, just sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to have met Mikey instead of Gee. I guess somehow I had a crush on him too, but it could never be stronger than what I feel towards Gerard, and I mean it. With Mikey, the whole thing was sort of... a high-school crush. Gerard was the love of my fucking life. Besides, he had his own boyfriend now, and Aaron seemed like a really nice guy. I wouldn't forgive myself if I ruined their relationship, seeing as it was going pretty good so far.
- You ready babe? - Gee asked as he leaned forward between my legs to give me a kiss on my forehead.
- Fuckin' ready. What's for dinner? I'm staaarving! - I whined loudly. Gerard and Mikey only laughed, but Mikey was still giving me a stare I couldn't quite figure what it meant. Lately, that was becoming a habit. I wonder if at some time I just had a boner without realizing and Mikey stared at it and now every time he'd look at me he would just be embarrassed (which wouldn't necessarily be logical, since I was literally grinding his lap a few weeks ago...).

The three of us left the hospital, heading to the parking lot, getting ready to go home. I was barely feeling any pain so I guessed that was a good sign. I still had to take some medication and apply some sort of antibiotic in gel twice a day, also known as Gerard rubbing... my chest, a couple times. (Only the chest. For now.).

---

I was on the couch playing with Mikey and Gerard was making dinner. Unlike Mikey, he knew how to cook without almost burning the house down. I missed that. If any of you saw us at that time, you wouldn't say I got shot a few days ago.
- Mikes, remember, four plates today! - Gerard reminded him as he was preparing the meal. Wait, what?
- Who's coming over, babe? - I asked, genuinely confused, as I got up to grab a glass of water.
- Aaron, honey, I invited him home earlier. He and Mikey had some sort of a fight today. - Oh, so maybe that's why he kept looking at me and blushing every time I looked him back. - I thought it would be nice to have him over, and he also accepted because he wanted to check up on you.
- Oh, you did good, baby. Need help with anything?
- You should be sitting down, you need to help yourself. I'm good here. Otherwise, you sure as hell won't be fully recovered by the time of your birthday!
- Ugh, I'm no baby, Gee, I'm fine. I barely feel any pain! - I whined as I leaned my head on his shoulder. Damn, that smelled as good as it looked. I was literally drooling. He just chuckled and placed a kiss on my cheek as he gave a final stir at the ingredients before putting everything in plates, when someone knocked on the door.
- I'll get it! - Mikey announced. It was probably Aaron, and my guess was confirmed when Mikey returned to the room, his cute smile now gone. Shit, were they really that bad? Was it because of me? Fuck.
- Ta-da! - Gee sang as he gestured towards the table, all set now, the plates filled with some good, good pasta, parmesan cheese and tomato sauce a-la-Tomato-Head. Yeah, Gerard held many nicknames, ''Tomato-Head'' was one of them and the one that seemed fitting the most during this dinner.
We all discussed my health at the table while eating, Aaron giving me some advice about the pain and how to treat the wound, Mikey almost always avoiding his boyfriend and Gerard strategically rubbing his leg on mine under the table every now and then. It was a nice dinner overall, Aaron even brought me a rose bouquet (which he had obviously asked Gerard or Mikey about, before; at least it seemed like it, because it was just how I loved it: simple red roses with a black silky ribbon and some silver glitter sprayed all over the petals.)
By the time the night ended, I went to the bedroom to put my pajamas on after I applied the antibiotic gel and made my way to Mikey's bedroom.
- Can I come in? - I asked him, peeking at the door.
- Yeah, sure, come on in. - And so I did, sitting beside him in his bed.
- What's wrong between you and Aaron? You two didn't even seem like boyfriends tonight...
- His ex-fiancé is stalking him and he's falling on his grace, apparently. I don't know, Frank, one minute he's saying he loves me, the other minute he's telling me he's going for a coffee with him. I just don't get it. That guy doesn't fucking deserve him. I don't know what to do... - He sighed.
- Hey, - I tilted his chin up so he'd look at me, as I held his hand with mine – if anyone here doesn't deserve to be hurt, it's you. You always give the best of you, and maybe that's why you tend to end up so broken, so hurt. I understand you want to do anything to make a person happy, but you can't forget about yourself. Remember that. I remembered, eventually.
- I don't know what I'd be without you, Frank, honestly. - He muttered, tears prickling his eyes.
- Mikes, I won't let him hurt you. You have me here. I'm here as I've always been. Okay? - I looked at him in the eyes, not realising that the space between us was getting reduced. We exchanged a silent look, but it was so fucking intense. I placed a kiss on his forehead, feeling the warmth of his skin, as he leaned in to hug me, and as soon as I removed my lips from his forehead, another look was shared.


I was so fucked.

Notes

O SHIT, WHAT'S IT GONNA HAPPEN BOI
my chapters are getting progressively longer, what the heck
hey, more content, i guess. right?
i really hope you are enjoying this story


- luna