The Sharpest Lives

Gerard was on the subway, on his way home from work on Friday afternoon. It was about 4:30, and Gerard had managed to slip out a little early so he had enough time to get ready for his date. He was mindlessly listening to Smashing Pumpkins when the music cut out, his phone ringing. Fucking Mikey.
Ignore.
He left no voicemail, knowing that Gerard would never listen to it. Gerard put his phone back in his pocket, closing his eyes. The phone rang again, Mikey. No message. The phone rang a third time, Mikey. No message.
Five minutes later, the phone rang again.
“Fuck off, Mikey!” He mumbled to himself. It wasn’t Mikey this time; it was Dr. Foster’s office. Hesitantly, he answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Mr. Way?” a squeaky, female voiced questioned from the other line.
“Yes.”
“Hi Mr. Way, my name is Michelle, calling from Dr. Foster’s office. I was returning your message you left us last evening.” She spoke.
“Oh, right.” Gerard wondered why they waiting until the next afternoon to call. Maybe she wasn’t taking new patients and wanted to tell Gerard before going home for the weekend so she could avoid any confrontation from an upset potential client. He hoped.
“We have a few appointments available for next week. You said you were available weekdays after 4PM, correct?” She asked.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Would next Wednesday at 5PM work for you?”
“Yes, that works. Thank you.” Gerard said. He was tentative, but he knew he had to follow through.
“Ok great. We’ll see you then, Mr. Way. Have a nice night.”
“Thanks, you too.”
He hung up the phone and felt a lump in his throat. He knew Dr. Foster would think him insane. She would definitely want to lock him up. Fuck. This was a mistake. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He had to get out. He was sweating, heart racing. He leapt off the subway at the next stop. Two stops from where he needed to be, but once he felt the cool air on his face he felt some of the anxiety melt away.
“Nice job, Gerard.” He mumbled, yet again, to himself as he began to walk out of the station, preparing himself for a two mile walk that he could have avoided had he not freaked out on the subway.

Frank was sitting at home, mindlessly strumming his guitar. Thinking about Gerard, of course. He was thinking about his pale skin, his hazel eyes, and his crooked smile. He was on his mind constantly. It scared him a little bit, how often he thought about him, if he was honest. He was excited to take him out tonight and spend time with him as a couple, really for the first time since they technically became one. During the week they were both busy adults. As much as they didn’t seem to feel like adults, they were.
Sometimes Frank wanted to run away, start a new life. But no, he couldn’t do that. He’d already done that when he left New Jersey. What was his problem with complacency? It seemed like now that he was truly settled in New York he felt the itch to leave. This feeling seemed to go away when he was with Gerard, though. Gerard was fresh air, he was oxygen.
Gerard was not oxygen. Gerard was toxic waste, he was radioactive and dangerous. He was poison and he would hurt Frank, he was sure of it. He would hurt Frank just by being the garbage that he was. He shut the door to his apartment behind him and sunk down to the floor. Fuck, this hurt. He had an hour before Frank was to pick him up. He had to get ready, he had to put on a happy face. He knew his fake smile would turn genuine when he met Frank, he just had to forge it now. No. He couldn’t. Fuck.
He was in the bathroom again, on the edge of the tub. Razor blade in his hand, pressed up against his translucent skin. He may never get to do this again after Wednesday. What if Dr. Foster locked him up and he didn’t have access to razor blades? He would have to use something else. Surely they had plastic knives or something he could use. Maybe he could hang himself from the shower curtain if he ever got locked up in a place like that. Maybe he could slit his throat now and never have to worry about being committed to an insane asylum. No. Frank would be here soon, this would have to suffice.
He sliced his skin, deeper this time than usual. This wasn’t for the pain, this was for the blood. He needed to see it to remind him that he was alive, breathing, heart beating. Because, fuck, if he didn’t feel so god damn numb right now.
The blood poured out of the wound, dripping on the floor. Gerard didn’t move, he just watched it.
Good, bleed you useless piece of trash. This is for attention. Fucking attention whore. Fucking worthless.
The words swirled in his head as the blood poured from the gash on his arm. He didn’t cry, and he didn’t flinch with pain. He pressed the blade down again, slicing. Deep, blood, pouring, staining the floor, his arms, his clothes.
Gerard didn’t hear the door open; Gerard didn’t hear Mikey calling him. Gerard didn’t hear Mikey open the bathroom door. He didn’t hear Mikey start to sob.
“Fuck, Gerard. No, fuck. What did you do? What did you do, Gee?” Mikey shook him. Gerard didn’t respond.
“Gerard, look at me.” Mikey shook him harder this time.
Gerard didn’t look away from his arm.
“Gerard!” Mikey screamed, ripping the razor blade from his brother’s hand and taking him in his arms, blood getting on his clothes. Mikey didn’t care. He held Gerard tight, squeezing him like if he let go he would vanish into thin air.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Gee. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Gee, look at me. Please.” Mikey cried.
Gerard hadn’t seen Mikey cry since they were kids. He was not a sensitive man, he was an unfeeling man. He was indifferent, and honest. He was blunt and tactless, and he was crying – for Gerard.
Gerard snapped out of it, hissing in pain suddenly.
“Mikey, what are you doing here?”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls, I got worried. I wanted to say I was sorry.” Mikey sniffled, pulling away from him only slightly. “We have to get you cleaned up, Gee. You might need stitches.”
Gerard nodded, allowing Mikey to pull away. He wet a washcloth with warm water and gently placed it on the wounds. He wiped at them carefully, washing away the blood. The cuts were deep, but the bleeding stopped. Gerard stared at Mikey, thoughtfully. Mikey had never seemed so affectionate, so loving. Even when they were little, Mikey was never an emotional person. But here he was, crying and so gently tending to his brother’s self-inflicted wounds.
“I’m so sorry, Gee.” He said again, sobbing.
Gerard didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. He knew Mikey was sorry simply because he was there.
“I love you, Gerard. Please, please, forgive me. I was wrong. I know that now. I was so worried after you left yesterday. I wanted to give you time to cool off, but when you didn’t answer any of my calls, fuck, I thought the worst.” Mikey said, tears still running down his cheeks. Gerard saw pain in his face, his sharp jawline softening, and his eyes glassy.
“Of course I forgive you, Mikes. It’s ok.” Gerard said, looking his brother in the eye. “I don’t think I need stitches, just a bandage.”
“Ok. Wait here.” Mikey went into the hallway and opened the closet to get the bandages. He returned with the first aid kit, and again, very carefully tended to Gerard’s arm. He wiped the wounds clean with fresh water and placed a soft cotton pad on top. He smoothly taped the area and secured it with a gauze wrap.
“Thank you.” Gerard said, standing up from his spot on the floor.
Mikey stood in front of Gerard, pulling him into a tight hug. A hug that was distinctly unlike Mike; a tight hug, with feeling and with love. He held him close and sobbed again. Mikey was terrified of losing his brother, and he could only realize that now.
“Don’t cry, Mikey. I’m fine, I’m OK.” Gerard said.
“I know, but…what if you weren’t?” He cried.
“I’m so sorry for worrying you like that. I promise, no matter how we fight, I will always answer your calls. I’m sorry.” Gerard explained. “I was mad, I was wrong to ignore you. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s over now. It’s OK.” Mikey said, releasing Gerard.
They stood in the entrance to the bathroom, smiling at each other. They were brothers again, back to normal. Better than normal maybe, because now Mikey understood.
There was a knock at the door.
“Fuck. Frank.” Gerard said, wiping his eyes from the tears that had fallen as he embraced Mikey.
“I’ll get it; you just go get yourself ready. I’ll keep him busy.” Mikey said, leaving Gerard in the bathroom.
Mikey opened the door to a very startled Frank.
“Jesus, Mikey, are you OK?” He saw the blood on his white shirt and his eyes red and glassy.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Come in.” He said.
Frank was hesitant. Was Gerard OK? What the hell was going on?
“Where’s Gerard?” He asked, nervously, walking into the apartment with him nowhere to be seen.
“He’s getting ready in his room; he’ll be out in a minute.”
“Is…everything OK? I mean, I can go if you two need to…”
Mikey interrupted. “No, no. It’s ok, he’s fine.”
Mikey walked into the kitchen, grabbing two beers, one for him and one for Frank. He fucking needed one and Frank would soon, too.
“Here man, drink this. You’re gonna need it.” Mikey said.
Frank took the drink from Mikey’s hand. He was really worried, now.
“Listen, Frank, Gerard kind of had a freak out. My fault, really.” He said, before sighing and looking down at his feet before taking a drink.
“Yeah, he told me you two had a fight.” Frank said.
“Yeah…I fucked up. He hurt himself, pretty bad. He’s OK, though. It’s for him to decide if he wants to tell you. He’s OK now, though.” Mikey didn’t know how much Frank knew, and he didn’t want to tell secrets that weren’t his to reveal, but he did want Frank to know the gravity of the situation.
“Fuck.” Frank said. “I think it’s my fault.”
“What?” Mikey asked.
“I came over last night, and we talked. He was upset, you know, about the fight you had. I told him maybe he should see my therapist, maybe she could help. I think I might have pushed him too hard…” Frank said, sitting down and putting his head in his hands.
Mikey laughed.
“Frank, he didn’t mention it to me, at all. Trust me; you are not what upset him.”
Gerard exited the bedroom then, clean, blood free clothes on and his hair combed.
“Hey, you.” He smiled at Frank.
“Hey, you look nice.” Frank said back to him, smiling slightly. He was still unsure if he had been the one to upset Gerard.
“Ready?” Gerard asked.
“Yeah, if you are.”
“Definitely.” He answered. He glanced to Mikey.
“Mikey, you ok?” He whispered while Frank went to discard of his now empty beer bottle.
“I’m fine. Go have fun. I’ll lock up, call me tomorrow, OK?” He said.
“Ok. Love you, Mikes.” Gerard said, smiling at Mikey.
“I love you too, Gee.” Mikey smiled back.
Frank took Gerard’s hand and they motioned out the door, happy, like nothing had happened. Mikey sunk into the couch after they left and cried.
Frank and Gerard walked out the door to the building and into the night air. Frank stopped abruptly, and Gerard was pulled back. Before he had a chance to respond, Frank pulled him into a tight hug.
“You’re going to think I’m silly, Gee…”He said, still hugging him close.
Gerard cocked an eyebrow and looked at Frank, their arms still tangled together.
“What, baby?”
“When Mikey answered the door, and I saw his shirt full of blood…I…” He hugged Gerard again, squeezing him tighter this time.
“I’m sorry I scared you, Frankie. I’m ok, I’m fine.” He cooed in Frank’s ear.
“I know, I just got so scared.” He said, taking Gerard’s hand back in his, and walking him towards the car.
Gerard could feel the nausea in the pit of his stomach. He knew he would need to tell Frank what happened.
“Do you want to talk about it? Frank asked once they were in the car.
“I do…but, let’s eat first. I want us to relax and have a nice time. We will go back to my place and talk about it then, ok?” Yes, Gerard was stalling, but he really didn’t want to ruin his dinner with Frank.
“Ok, baby.” Frank said, smiling. He was apprehensive with this idea, but he wanted Gerard to enjoy himself tonight. They would talk later. All that mattered right now was that he was OK.

The restaurant was beautiful. It was small and quaint, and in a part of the city Gerard had never been. Probably because it wasn’t within walking distance. It was decorated nicely, with paintings from local artists hanging on the walls. The food was great, Frank getting a salad and Gerard letting Frank choose his favorite thing on the menu for him – a pasta primavera. Considering the way the night began, it was turning out to be pretty perfect. They shared stories about their week, and held hands across the table. Gerard felt himself falling in love with Frank through every glance they shared. At the end of the meal, Gerard went and used the restroom. When he returned, Frank had already paid the bill. Gerard pretended to be mad, reminding Frank that he agreed to let him pay this time, but he wasn’t really.
They left the establishment, happy and full. Gerard almost forgetting about the conversation he needed to have with Frank.
“Are you still up for going back to your place to talk?” Frank asked as they approached the car. He wanted to tell Gerard he didn’t have to right now, but Frank really needed to know, and he didn’t want to give Gerard the chance to back out if he felt he had it.
“Yeah.” Gerard said, weakly.
Frank pecked him on the cheek and opened the door for him.
Gerard slid in the car. He was nervous, definitely nervous. Frank would understand, though. He knew he would. He had to. Right?
They drove to Gerard’s apartment in almost near silence, something that was unusual for them. Gerard was visibly scared, and as they approached the building, Frank gripped his hand in a reassuring gesture that it would all be OK.
Gerard took his time getting out of the car once they were parked, inhaling a few deep breaths.
Once they were inside the apartment, Gerard took notice that Mikey had left. He had expected him to, but he did wonder if he would stay until Gerard got home. He was so unlike himself when Gerard left, he was almost worried for him.
The men sat on the couch, looking at each other.
“Frankie…” Gerard took Frank’s hand in his. “I don’t know what happened, I just…freaked out when I got home from work. Mikey kept calling me while I was on the subway and I just kept hearing him in my head yelling at me the other night. I started panicking on the train, and I had to get off.” He continued. “I got off two stops early, just to get out of there. By the time I got home I was so full of anxiety. I don’t even remember how I got into the bathroom or got the razor blade out, but I cut myself. Deep. Deeper than I ever have, Frank.”
Frank squeezed Gerard’s hand, letting him know it was OK to continue.
“I hardly remember doing it. But then Mikey came in and he found me. He got worried when I wouldn’t answer his calls. He was so upset. I’ve never seen him like that.”
“Baby, it’s OK.” Frank said, now pulling Gerard into his embrace.
“Mikey thought I might need stitches, but I think it’s OK. We wrapped it up.”
“Can I see the bandage, baby?” Frank asked. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Uh…I guess so.” Gerard hesitantly pulled his sleeve up and over the wrapped wound. Gerard was surprised to see blood soaked through the cloth. Frank wasn’t.
“We need to get this bandage off, Baby. You’re bleeding through it.” Frank said, stroking Gerard’s hair.
“How did you know?” Gerard questioned. How could he gave guessed that Gerard had bled through?
“My mom’s a nurse. Your arms bleed a lot, there’s a major artery there, baby.” Frank said, standing up. “Come on, let’s go into the bathroom.”
Frank led Gerard into the bathroom, taking careful steps as not to panic Gerard.
Frank slowly unwrapped the bandage, a washcloth underneath his boyfriend’s arm as he did so any blood that was still fresh wouldn’t spill onto the floor. He winced when he saw the wounds, some blood still bubbling out of the two horizontal cuts on his forearm.
“Can I touch your arm, baby? Not on the cuts, just around them?”
Gerard nodded, his head now clammy and his skin even paler than normal.
Frank placed a gentle finger next to the gashes, lightly pulling on the skin to get an idea of how deep they were. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but not completely.
“Ok baby, here’s what we can do.” Frank said, looking Gerard in the eye.
“You should get stitches, but the gauze was wrapped tightly around it, mostly stopping the bleeding. Had it not been wrapped as quickly as it was, you probably would have passed out from blood loss.” Frank declared.
Gerard took a sharp breath in. He was scared, and he felt terrible about what he had done, and how Frank now needed to care for him.
“Mikey did a good job wrapping it up. You don’t have to get stitches, it will close, but it will leave a scar. If you get stitches it will leave a smaller scar, but…” Frank’s gaze faltered.
“But what, Frank?” Gerard asked.
“If you go to the hospital with two cuts like this…It’s obvious you did it to yourself. They’ll most likely put you on a psychiatric hold for 72 hours. That means once they stitch you up, you can’t leave for three days until they make sure you aren’t a danger to yourself.” He said, worried for Gerard’s reaction.
Gerard almost did pass out when he said that. Thinking about being locked in one of those places was one of the thoughts that started this whole mess.
“Listen to me, baby, stay with me.” Frank said softly, placing a hand on Gerard’s cheek. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”
Gerard nodded.
“Do you think you will hurt yourself again? If there is even a chance that you think you might do this again, I need you to tell me.” Frank said more seriously this time.
“I…I don’t think so.”
“I’m sorry for asking, but…you weren’t trying to…you know…” Frank didn’t want to say the words. He didn’t want to ask Gerard if he was trying to kill himself. He needed to stay strong for him right now, and he knew he would break down in tears the second the sentence was uttered.
“Kill myself?” Gerard finished for him.
“…yeah” Frank said quietly, scared for Gerard’s response.
“No, Frankie. No, I was just…so full of panic. I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted to bring myself back to reality. That’s all it ever is, bringing myself back down from the anxiety attack. I don’t want to kill myself.” Gerard said confidently. He didn’t want to kill himself. That wasn’t what this was, it wasn’t a call for help or a death wish, it was a therapy to him. A shitty one, but that’s what I was.
“Ok, it’s settled then. No hospital, but we need to wrap this good again, and tight.” Frank said, fumbling from the floor where they were sitting to the counter that had the first aid supplies Mikey had left earlier on it.
Frank re-wrapped Gerard’s arm tightly, kissing the bandage when he was done. They returned to the couch, sitting close to each other in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another.
“Frankie?” He asked.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Will you stay with me tonight?” Gerard looked at Frank.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” He replied, planting a kiss on Gerard’s mouth. And there wasn’t, this is exactly where Frank wanted to be; with Gerard, problems and all.

Notes