Defenceless.

Chapter 8.

And as wonderful as that morning was, it was temporary, as is most every good thing. It ended with a loud bang, followed by a drunk man stumbling in through the front door.
The next thing that registers is the tense atmosphere as he immediately spots us, and walks drunkenly over to the table.
“Ah! My family! I missed you kids-”
“Why are you here, Mike?” Jay asks with a sharp edge in her voice.
“Well, my first born,” He inquires, grinning drunkenly. “This is my house, after all.”
“No, actually it's not. Your name isn't on the mortgage.” She responds with a small, snide smile, and his sarcasm turns to anger.
“Since when?!” He yells, and its so quiet we could all hear each others breathing. But, like father like daughter, her anger came back twice as strong.
“Well, let's calculate this shit! You disappeared three months ago, and it only took two weeks for me to get tired of wondering if you were dead or not, and took your name off just in case! So about two and a half months ago!” She roars back, standing up. “Get the fuck out of my house.” She snarls at him. He doesn't look surprised.
“Most children would be happy to have their fathers back!” Mike yells at her, throwing his hands up.
“Those kids must not have shitty alcoholics for fathers! You were never here, i raised these kids, and I’m tired of you swooping in when you feel like it, and fucking everything up! Were better off without you!” She retorts, pointing to the door aggressively. He sneers and lifts his hand, and for a second, everything slows down. I watch as she flinches back, and his hand flies across her face, making a loud, loud crack ring through the room.
For a moment, I’m just in shock. I dont move. That is, until she brings her hand to her lip, and pulls her fingers away red. Then, everything happens too quickly.
Gerard flies up from the table, and socks Mike so hard in his face that he falls. He blinks for a minute, but gets back up, twice as angry. I get up and pull Jay away from the fight, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the kids. They’re all in chaos, and Mikey rushes past us to Gerard and Mike, where Mike seems to have the upper hand. That is, until, Gerard punches Mike’s nose, and it cracks loudly, sending him into a fit of pain. He holds his nose for a second, and I think the fight is done, until Mike swings at Mikey, and then Gerard and Mikey are both on him. I turn away and look at Jay, whose, surprisingly, watching with both anger on her face. She doesn’t look afraid, despite the fact her own father just smacked her across the face. I look at her lip, that’s split toward the left side of her mouth, and look at her already bruising jaw. She stiffens as I tilt her chin up, and I quickly apologize and tell her I’m just looking for damage, and she just as quickly she unstiffens. It’s hard to focus with the commotion going on, and I quickly snap my head and tell the kids to go upstairs, which they surprisingly obey. I should’ve told them to go up there a long time ago, but it had just registered. Jay seems to have not thought about it either, because she looks regretfully over at them, and than thankfully at me.
Then, a loud yell of pain sounds out, and the fight is no longer a fight. Everyone freezes, and I turn hastily to look at them.
Mike is on his knees. Holding his entire face in his two hands. Mikey stares with no emotion, as does Gerard, which to me seems very eerie.
Mike rises from his knees, peacefully so, and turns away from us, muttering. Mikey and Gerard argue back with him, and then I really tune them out, and just turn to stare at Jay. I let them chase him away, and come back inside, just so all of us can stand and stare in silence.
Mikey’s face has a dark bruises beginning to form on his eye, bad enough to make me wince as I look at him. His shirt is ripped in several places, and there's blood on it. Gerard’s nose seemed to have been bleeding heavily, but it appeared have mostly stopped. Both their hands were covered in bruises and blood, thought they pay no mind to it.
“Jesus,” I’m the first to speak, which seems to be a mistake, because they all turn to stare at me. I bite my lip in response, and just focus on Gerard, whose so completely poker faced it scares me.
“I...I’ll clean you two up. You don't need anything, do you Jay?” I ask, looking her softly in the yes. The situation seemed to have just hit, because now she looks as if she could cry. But she just shakes her head now, and tries to give me a smile. I nod and turn to the stairs, Mikey and Gerard following. Gerard stops for a second to whisper something in Jay’s ear, and kisses the top of her head, and continues.
I instruct them to go to the bathroom and get washrags and rubbing alcohol, which they do obediently, while I continue down the hall. I knock on one of the kids doors, and hear a faint ‘come in’. I open the door to find them all sitting on the beds or the floor.
“Are you guys okay?” I ask, making them all nod at once.
“Are you leaving now?” Tristan asks, looking sad.
“Leaving…?”
“Normally Gerard’s and Jay’s partners always leave after they see that kinda stuff.” She responds with a grom look, making Hunter nod next to her. Lexi just stares at me, waiting for n answer.
“No. I’m not leaving.” I say simply, filling obnoxiously sad at the thought.
“Okay. Good.” Tritsain says, signaling the end of our conversation. I close the door and go to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway. Mikey sat on the toilet seat, crattling his hand against his chest. Gerard sat next to him on the ground, his legs sprawled out. His hands were laid flat on the ground, causing blood to leak on the floor, though he didn't seem to notice. He just stared at the floor tiles, blank. Empty.
I entered the bathroom after a minute, not looking at them as I wet two rags. I run warm water over them, before telling Mikey to face me and put his hands on the sink. He obye, and I try to wash the blood off as quick and painless as I can. He still winces every second, so I slow down, testing to see if it will help. It seems too, because he doesn't flinch as frequently, though he still does it periodically. Despite the fact it's still bleeding, I pour alcohol on it when I finish cleaning his hand. He lets out a small gasp when I do it, but he quickly sucks it up and sets me do my thing.
I rinse his hand after work, and dry it, and proceed to wrap it up in bandages I found. He thanks me, and moves off the toilet seat so Gerard can sit there, but Mikey doesn't leave. He just sits.
Gerard is way easier. After he moves to the toilet seat, he just sits, and lets me do my thing. He stares at the sink, and doesn't wince once as i clean his hands. He doesn't even wince when I pour the rubbing alcohol on his hand. I wrap it up afterward, and he seems to jolt when he realises im done.
“Baby?” I ask in a whisper, making him look blankly at me. I began to tear up, because of the way he was acting, and everything that just happened. That entire thing was fucking crazy. “I'm sorry.” I choke out, though I don't even know why i'm apologizing. He tilts his head, though he keeps the empty look. I just shrug.
We sit in silence after that. I slump to the ground, across from Mikey, next to Gee. We all stare at the ground in silence, an eerie, sad silence.
“Do you guys want to come stay the night tonight?” It felt like the thing to do, and I wished I could take the whole family, but I knew I couldn't. Mikey nods, and I look to Gerard, who doesn't seemed to have heard me. I sigh, and let the tears that built up fall. After a moment of self pity, I stand, straightening my thoughts out.
“Mikey, please pack a bag. Gerard, please come with me so I can pack your bags.” I say very efficiently, very monotony. I felt like a mother. Mikey leaves, but Gerard stays sitting, his eyes blank.
“Please get up,” I beg, my eyes beginning to tear up again. He doesn't listen, or even seem to know im there. That's when I really start crying. I lean against the counter and son, letting my head fall forward. Sobs erupt from my throat, and I don't even attempt to keep it in.
That's what seems to pull him from..whatever it was he was experiencing. I feel his hand on my hip, making me slowly look over at him. He still looks empty, but now he was looking at me, not through me. I let out another sob as he stands, and wraps his arms around me. I turn to embrace him, and let him fall against my body. I pull away after a minute, and guide him to his room. He obediently goes, his eyes trained on the floor. I lead him to his bed, and proceed to pack his bags as I try to stop crying.
“It's his disorder,” I hear a quiet voice, making me turn around. “Y’know, he’s bipolar. That's why he checks out.” Hunter explains, staring at Gerard.
“I kind’ve figured. At least I hoped that's what it was.” I respond quietly, now looking at Gerard too.
“Hoped?” Tristan questions.
“It was better then thinking it was because he was in shock from severe trauma or something.”
“No. Because that's temporary. He has to live with this for the rest of his life.” Hunters words startled me. Words both so depressing and wise, they seem too big for someone so young.
“We both have to live with it now.” I respond after a second, referring to me and Gerard. Hunter looks at me for the first time since he's been in the room, and studies me.
“I really hope you stick around.” I don't get a chance to respond, because he moves quickly and quietly, like a cat, away from the door. I sigh, and turn back around. I was going to stay with Gerard until he forced me to leave.
I finish packing his bags, and usher him and Mikey downstairs. Mikey seemed to have explained what we were doing, because she didn't seem confused as we left. I give her a hug as we leave, and she thanks me for taking them. She says they could use a break from this place.
How sad to need a break from your own home.
*
*
*
Gerard slept for a long time. And I don't mean he slept for 14 hours, I mean he slept for days. Sometimes he just layed in my bed with his eyes trained at the wall, or the floor, staring at nothing, but he never moved. He got up to pee maybe three times in the whole four days he was at my house, but he never ate, or drank, no matter how much me or Mikey begged.
I slept in the same bed as him at night, and every time I attempted to sleep, I cried. I stifled my sobs with my pillow, and eventually fell asleep like that.
The fifth day was different though.
As soon as I wake up, I begin to cry. My exhaustion was overwhelming, seeing as I only slept for about four hours. I cry to calm my breathing, but end up making it worse, and sons erupt from my mouth.
I feel something lightly touch my shoulder, and I turn my head, finding Gerard staring at me sadly. I cry harder and bury my head in his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his neck. He crattles me against his body, rubbing my back.
“Don't leave me again,” I sob, clutching him tightly
“Shhh. I'm sorry love. Im sorry. I'm so sorry.” He whispers over and over again, continuing to rub my back, and run his hands through my hair.
“You need to eat,” I say, sitting up quickly. Before he can protest, I jump up and go to the kitchen. Mikey’s already in there, looking solemn as he makes his coffee.
“He’s awake,” I say, making Mikey look at me. He stares, and after a minute nods, like he doesn't really know what to say.
“He’s not gonna eat,” MIkey says after a minute. “He never days for the first day after this happened. I wouldn't bother.”
“Oh.” I say softly with a shirt nod, before biting my lip. “What do I do?”
“I don't know Frank,” He sighs,looking sadly down at his cup.
“He needs help. He knows that right?”“He does. He likes to pretend he doesn't, but he does.” Mikey responds, making me sigh and rub my forehead.
“I'm going to talk to him about seeing therapist and pharmacists.” I say, deadly serious.
“He's not gonna do it.” Mikey respond immediately.
“Yes he will.”
“And how are you going to mek him?” He demands, turning his whole body toward me.
“I'm going to tell if that if he doesn't, then we cant be in a relationship.” My voice is cold and detached, and the words feel wrong even as they roll of my tongue.
“That's manipulative.” Mikey states.
“No. Its not. If he's bipolar, and unstable, a relationship will make it worse. What about when we get in a fight? What then? He gets manic and decides to take every pill in his goddamn medicine cabinet? He mutilates himself and winds up in a hospitial with six fuckin stab wounds, all self inflicted? What then, Mikey?” I spit put, tears building in my eyes, my voice angry and demanding.
“I wouldn't do that,” I hear a whisper behind me, and turn to see fragile Gerard staring at me, looking hurt. I open my mouth and try to force something out, anything to get the hurt look off his face, but i just sigh and cry some more.
“It's not like your exactly fuckin stable, Frank.” Mikey says, his voice angry now that Gerards been hurt.
“I'm not fucking disappearing on people for days, lost in bed sheets and staring at walls.” I say defensively, my eyes somehow producing even more water.
“It's not his fault!”
“I never said it fucking was! I dont care whose fault it is, I just want him to be better! If that fucking means therapy or fukcing pills, wouldnt you rather him fucking do it?! We’re both fuckin dorwning and I cant save the both of us! So fucking please Mikey, just fuckin help me out here, and please Gerard, just fucking please try to help yourself, just hear me out!” Once my yells cease its quiet, and my loud breathing is the only thing I can hear. My tears are running down my neck, and snot is on my lips, but I don't care.
“Okay.” Gerard says lowly, taking a step toward me.
“Let's sit and talk.” Mikey says, leading the way to the living room. Gerard unsurely walks over to me and takes my hand, making me swallow hard against my throat and smile at him. He smiles back, sadly, and we walk hand in hand to the living room. Gerard sits in a chair, and me and Mikey are on the couch. I take a couple deep breaths before speaking.
“I want to make an appointment for you to see a therapist. And be prescribed pills. Bipolar disease is serious, and cant be healed by self medicating, it's an imbalance in the brain. There's nothing wrong with you, you're perfect, but I want you to be perfectly happy.” I tell him calmly, my tears still flowing. He stares at me and nods calmly, fidgeting with his hands.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I say, looking at him with my head tilted.
“Okay, yeah, I'll see a therapist. And do the pills.”
“If you want, I'll go see a therapist too. I know this is hard for you, and as Mikey said, I have issues too. We both need to work ourselves out.” Mikey's head snaps toward me and I resist the urge to lookback. I'm staring deeply into Gerards eyes, trying to silently let him know I love him. He nods and stands, and walk slowly over to me, his weak body shaking as he sits down in my lap, bridal style. I hold him closely to me, my tears begin to stop.
“We’re gonna be okay. Okay?” I say, clutching him closely.
“I know.”
*
*
*
Therapy was okay, I guess. We both went o the same office, btu we had different therapists. Mine was first, and it only lasted an hour, but Gerards was in about ten minutes. Mikey drove us there, and let Gerard out, before he went to park. The sessions were an hour, but we decided we could wait for him instead of wasting gas going back and forth.
The entire place was clean and professional, and everyone was friendly and always smiled. It felt like a dentist office sometimes.
My therapist name was Peter. He was about thirty, very attractive, very kind. He would take time to get used to though.
I think Gerard had a female therapist. I don't remember her name, but I think it started with a B.
About forty five minutes if waiting. Mikey decides to go to jamba juice, and get us all drinks. He’s quick and comes out with three fruity drinks, all strawberry banana. We rush back over to the office, hoping he wasn't out yet, and thankfully he wasn't. Mikey gets nervous when another ten minutes pass, but I hope it's a good thing. Maybe he opened up and needed more time to talk.
It's not until an ambulance and a cop car show up that I actually start to worry. I get out quickly, as does Mikey, and we both jog over to the building. We made it inside before the cops and the paramedics, thankfully.
Gerard's standing in the corner of the room, crying, his face pure terror. His therapist is trying to calm him, but i can tell she's standing to close for his comfort.
“Back up!” I demand, rushing over to Gee immediately. She looks at me blankly, before obliging.
“What's going on?” I ask, looking accusingly at the lady.
“They’re trying to take me away,” He sobs, clutching at my hand.
“You started destroying my office in the middle of our session! Your clearly very unstable, Gerard, and this isn't the kind of help you need.” The lady explains, looking desperate for Gerard, or me, to understand.
“What did you do?” I turn to Gerard, whispering quietly to him.
“I don't know- she was talking, and I was just overwhelmed, and she was trying to calm me, and I just- I just lost it.” He cries, holding my hand with both of his, his eyes wild as he looks around the room. I hug him, and that's when the paramedic and the cop rush him, demanding I step back.
I oblige, but Gerard clutches at me, his sobs loud at desperate as they try to restrain him.
“Baby, baby please don't resist. Please.” I beg, making him look at me with a hurt expression, betrayed.
“But- they're trying to take me, Frank!” He yells, but his body goes limp. They don't put handcuffs on him thankfully. “I know. I know love. Just go. Its okay. I promise it'll be okay.” I say as they begin to guide him out, me and Mikey following. I talk to him the whole way, keeping him calm.
They put him ambulance, and I swear I can still hear his sobs as they ride away.
*
*
*
MIkey tells Jay. Mikey tells Izzy. Mikey is strong through it.
I go home, alone, and I cry. I cry so hard I don't know if i'll ever stop. My chest heaves, and my nose and eyes never stop producing liquid.
My bedsheets smell like him. That small fact kept me from sleeping all night.
Mikey stops by, and tells me the hospital Gee’s at. A mental ward. Bellaire Behavioral hospital. Some shit like that.
He tries to talk to me, and I just cry. I cry as he tells me no one under 18 can visit, unless specifically requested. I cry as he tells me to come over to his house, so i'm not sitting alone in the dark, but i don't listen. After about two hours, I tell him to leave. He does.
My mom comes home, but doesn't come to my room. I hear her moving around the house. I hear her ignoring me.
I sleep for a while after that. I wake up in the dead of night, Gerard’s scent strong on my nostrils, and throw the blankets after me. I stand shakily up, my breath heavy, and it's immediately clear I'm having a panic attack.
I grab my shoes, and don't even bother putting them on, before throwing myself out of my room, and then out of the house.
I cry as I begin to run, my feet slamming against the gravel roughly. I’m sure that not long after my feet begin to bleed.

Notes