Desolation Row (frerard, petekey) {ON HIATUS}

5. I Couldn't Come Up With A Title So Fuck It Josh Dun Is In This Chapter

Gerard's head was spinning.

His head was like a god damned top, stumbling and tripping and making a general fool of itself for people's entertainment, which in all honesty wasn't much of a difference from Gerard's current career was.

But he couldn't focus on how he was majorly fucked with his job at the moment, he couldn't focus on anything really. His head was just drowning and it felt like he was fucking underwater, arms unable to move and lungs strained and stinging.

And all Gerard could do was stare up at a ceiling he didn't recognize, a thing he found himself doing quite frequently as of late. He soon realized he could move his hand by himself, which meant he wasn't completely shitfaced somehow. It was all this horribly dizzy buzzing which was more annoying than anything else. He really hadn't asked for this fucked-up brain blackout, but pills did what they wanted and gave zero fucks as to who they hurt.

Gerard somehow built up enough to mental strength to sit up, a wave of nausea hit him hard and spots of light danced in his vision. The room he was in swam with overwhelming brightness, even though it was barely lit.

Once his vision adjusted, he could see that he was in this half-contemporary, half-early twentieth century styled bullshit that shouldn't have looked good but did; and Gerard was literally fucking himself here criticizing the decor of some apartment he woke up in.

"Hello?" Gerard called out as he tried to stand up, which ended in him getting another ridiculous blood rush and falling to the floor with his eyes blinking rapidly.

He heard what could've been a stifled "fuck" from behind a door, and the sound of sheets shifting as someone got out of bed. The door opened to reveal a tall, blurry person that Gerard vaguely recognized as his brother.

"Oh joy you're awake." His brother sounded groggy and like he generally didn't give a single fuck because it was what Gerard thought to be very early in the morning.

Mikey walked over and grabbed his arm, steadying Gerard and sitting him upright on the couch. There was another shuffling from what must've been the bedroom, and a guy with black hair and tattooed arms came out, his face too blurry for Gerard to recognize.

"Where am I? And who is that?" Gerard pointed at the blurry figure and blinked his eyes in an attempt to let his vision adjust.

Mikey sighed before replying:

"Pete and I's apartment, we're engaged, and this is Pete." He gestured to the guy with a half-hearted flick of the wrist. Pete waved and his face started to focus.

"Okay...what happened to me?" Gerard was all too fucked to actually process that his brother was engaged (for the second time, but he didn't remember that).

Pete chimed in at this point. "You took too many pills and were completely out of it. We probably shouldn't have let you sleep. You could've died. Whoops." Mikey eyed him in a way that read to Gerard as "are you fucking kidding me not the time".

"O-okay," Gerard said, ignoring the outright domesticity of the two in front of him and focusing on getting himself food and coffee.

"You have coffee?" He asked, Mikey nodding and turning into the kitchenette to prepare some cups. Pete in the meantime sat in front of Gerard on the coffee table.

"How you doin', stripperboy?" Pete asked with a smirk. Gerard shrugged and replied with: "shit".

Pete nodded like he knew this, and placed a hand on Gerard's shoulder. He turned around to take a quick glance at Mikey before he whispered to Gerard;

"Mikey's really worried about you. Do you think you can maybe stay here for a few days? So Mikey can keep an eye on you? He cares about you a lot, and he wants to make sure you're okay. Please?" Pete gave these puppy-dog eyes that normally wouldn't work on Gerard but he was shitfaced right now and really couldn't say no.