Silence and Sadness

(So Long And) Goodnight

{Gerard's POV}

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Frank all week. How he had just jumped right into that fight to protect me. He could have gotten himself hurt, but he didn't care. He wanted to help me, he wanted to be my friend, and I was being a jerk. All this time, he's been working so hard to be my friend, and he's been so patient with me. The problem was, people had tried to be friendly to me, and had gotten close, just so they could hear me talk. I made that mistake once with this jerk named Bert. He said he thought of us as more than friends, that he would always be there for me and would always take care of me. He was always kind of rough, though, hitting me if I didn't do something he wanted. One day, he wanted me to talk to him, tell him how much I loved him, but I refused. He got angry and yelled at me to talk to him, but I still told him no. He kept pushing, and eventually I screamed at him to leave me alone, quickly covering my mouth after, my eyes widened. Then, he started beating on me. He kept punching and kicking me, then he threw me into the wall. I woke up in the hospital with a bruised and sore back and a concussion. Mikey and Ray were there. The doctors and nurses all kept asking what happened, but I just shook my head no. I wouldn't answer them, and nobody ever found out what truly happened. Mikey was furious, though. He knew that Bert and I were together, but not that he would hit me. Ray decided to spend the night at our house with us the night I left the hospital. Mikey was furious. He kept asking if Bert did this to me, and I kept silent the entire time. I guess that made him crack eventually. I had never been completely silent for that long with Mikey or Ray, and it was making him nervous. He sat beside me on the couch and pulled me into a hug, then he pulled back and said, "Listen, Gee. I didn't mean to get mad at you. But it Bert hurt you, I need to know. Please, just tell me. Did he do this to you?" he asked softly.

I started thinking about the few good times Bert and I actually had. In the beginning, he was so nice to me. He would take me out to dinner and movies, and he wouldn't care that he was the one doing all the talking. Then, he started drinking. He would come home drunk and try to push me into things that I didn't want to do, and I would hold him back, and he would get angry and start hitting me. I felt tears swelling in the corners of my eyes. Mikey noticed and wrapped his arms around me again as I sobbed into his shoulder. "Shhh, it's ok, Gee. He can't hurt you anymore. Ray and I won't let him hurt you again." He knew by my reaction that this was Bert's fault, but he wasn't mad anymore. He was just concerned for his older brother. "H-He hurt me a lot, M-Mikey. Almost all the t-time. I don't ever want to s-see h-him a-again." It was hard for me to say. Bert had meant a lot to me, once upon a time. "Ok, honey. You won't ever see him again, I promise." Mikey said. I nodded and said, "Thanks, Mikes." He smiled and gave me a little kiss on my forehead. I never saw Bert again, but my experiences with him had changed me. I wasn't so trusting of people. I took a long time to decide if I trusted a person or not, and most cases I decided not to. But Frank was different. He cared about me, and not in a way that Bert did. He really cared about me as a person, cared about keeping me safe. I started to wonder if I was...falling for Frank. I mean, he is a very nice person, and he is really hot. I loved his tattoos, too. It's like he's a living, breathing canvas of color. He's really funny, and his hazel colored eyes twinkle a little in the light. I loved watching him play with the ring on his lip. Yeah, I definitely think I'm in love with Frank. But if I love him, that means I'll have to talk to him eventually, and I'm not sure about that. What if he hates how my voice sounds?

I'm sitting in my room in the basement, drawing in my sketchpad, when someone knocked on my door. "Yeah!" I called. Mikey came in, closed the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's up?" I asked. He let out a big whoosh of air and looked up at me. "Not much. I'm bored." he said. I chuckled and said, "So, you came to me? Why don't you go out and do something, go hang with Ray or Bob?" I asked. "I don't really feel like hanging out with them right now. What are you doing down here?" he wondered. I sighed, finished my drawing, closed up my sketchbook, and tossed it on the floor beside my bed. Then, I laid back against my pillows, my hands folded across my stomach. "Nothing much. Just...thinking about stuff." I admitted. He smirked and said, "Frank?" I rolled my eyes. "Really, Michael? Why must you always assume I am thinking about guys? I'm gay, but no desperate!" I said, my hand on my chest in an gesture of mocking offense. "But you were thinking about Frank, right?" he asked. Curse my little brother and his apparent ability to read minds! "Yes, Mikey, I was thinking about Frank. Happy?!" I said, a little harsher than I meant. Mikey leaned back, as if unsure of whether or not I was going to snap at him even more. "I'm sorry, Mikes. I didn't mean that. I just don't know what to do about this. I haven't really trusted anybody since...you know. What if Frank is the same way? What if-What if he hurts me?" I asked, tears threatening to slide down my cheeks. I held them back, but Mikey and his "psychic abilities" must have seen my efforts to fight the tears, as he pulled me into a hug. "Listen, I know that saying this may not change much, but Frank is a good guy. He wouldn't intentionally hurt you, and he would kill himself with guilt if he hurt you at all, even by accident. He really cares about you, Gee. He texted us the second he saw you with Brunner and his gang the other day. He really is trying to show you that you can trust him. We're just waiting for you. If you like him, let him know. Talk to him." He said. I thought for a moment, then Mikey said, "And besides, if he hurt you, Ray, Bob, and I would kill him." I laughed and ruffled his hair.

I nodded, then looked into my little brother's eyes. "What if he doesn't like my voice, Mikes?" I asked nervously. Mikey took my face in his hands and pressed a kiss to my forehead, same as he had that night on our couch. "He'll love your voice, Gee, because your voice is beautiful. Especially when you sing." I gave him a small, shy smile and turned away, but he pulled my head back. "I'm serious. You have a great singing voice! Come on, sing something for me, please. Sing that song about Grandma, you used to sing to me when I was sad." he begged. I frowned. He knew that song made me think of her, made me cry. But I knew he loved the song, and so I quietly began singing,

Long ago

Just like the hearse, you die to get in again

We are so far from you

Burning on just like a match you strike to incinerate

The lives of everyone you know

And what's the worst you take

From every heart you break

And like the blade you stain

Well, I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst that I can say?

Things are better if I stay

So long and goodnight

So long and goodnight

Came a time

When every star fall brought you to tears again

We are the very hurt you sold

And what's the worst you take

From every heart you break

And like the blade you stain

Well, I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst that I can say?

Things are better if I stay

So long and goodnight

So long and goodnight

And if you carry on this way

Things are better if I stay

So long and goodnight

So long and goodnight

Can you hear me?

Are you near me?

Can we pretend

To leave and then

We'll meet again

When both our cars collide.

What's the worst that I can say?

Things are better if I stay

So long and goodnight

So long and goodnight

And if you carry on this way

Things are better if I stay

So long and goodnight

So long and goodnight

I looked down at Mikey, who had laid down beside me and fallen asleep, which brought a smile to my lips. Careful not to wake him, I slid his glasses off of his face, then pulled his shoes off. I picked up the comforter from the floor and threw it over him, then crawled in beside him. I looked at his soft, peaceful face one more time before I turned around, switched the lamp off, and fell asleep.