Gerard smiled softly.
"Color?" Frank asked quietly.
"Yellow." He whispered sleepily.
"Good." Frank sat on the bed, gently lifting Gerard onto his lap.
Gerard fiddled with the hem of Frank's hoodie, shivering.
"Cold?" The guitarist asked, holding him closer.
Gerard didn't process the word or the immediately.
"Are you cold?"
"Cold." He nodded.
"Okay." Frank laid Gerard down so he could take off his hoodie, then proceeding to help the fragile singer put it on.
Gerard weakly pulled an arm up, fingers curling in Frank's shirt as he tried to bring him closer. "Frank."
He leaned towards Gerard's touch, kissing him softly.
"What do you need?" He ran his fingers through the long, black hair.
"Closer." He smiled through cracked lips.
Frank laid with him, inhaling his soft scent.
•••
Gerard's color definitely wasn't yellow later. It was past red. Frank had to go out, so Mikey was there.
Gerard stirred, not opening his eyes.
"I'm right here, Gee. It's Mikey, your brother." He caressed his brother's hand gently.
Gerard retched unconsciously. He hadn't eaten or drank anything in days so he had nothing to bring up, but felt extremely nauseous.
"It's okay."
Gerard was sweating, skin flushed and warm. "M-Mikey..." His voice was quiet, raspy and slurred.
"I'm right here." He bit back tears.
Gerard moaned in pain, eyes fluttering. Tears leaked from his closed eyes.
"Shh, don't cry. It's okay." Mikey wiped his brother's eyes.
"Mikey." He whined again, breath hitching. "Want...want..."
"Calm down, Gee, breathe." Mikey stroked his hair. "What do you want?"
"Need...I need...Frank..." He whispered.
"He'll be back soon."
"Mikey." He whimpered.
"What if I call him, okay?"
Moments later, Gerard heard his voice.
"Hello?"
"Frank." He whispered, or at least he thought he did. It was hard to tell.
"I love you, Gee. I'm driving home now." Frank soothed.
Gerard groaned weakly, eyelids fluttering. His brother held his hand reassuringly.
Gerard fell asleep.
•••
"You've gotta let him go." Ray's voice whispered.
"I can't." Frank was crying. "He's in so much pain, but I can't let him go."
Gerard groaned softly before throwing up what little water Frank had gotten into him earlier.
"Oh, honey." Frank took him into his lap. Gerard felt someone pull the soiled pillow away.
Gerard couldn't keep his eyes open. "F-Frank..." His chest heaved with effort.
"Shh, baby. It's okay. We're all right here." Frank said and someone stroked his hair.
Gerard coughed and retched again, water dribbling from his mouth.
Frank cried harder. "It's okay, Gee. I shouldn't have pushed you to drink earlier."
Gerard gave a very weak cough, wheezing. His eyelids fluttered.
He slipped back into darkness.
Gerard slowly walked onto the stage, using his crutches and Frank as a support.
His knees gave out and Frank caught him so he didn't completely collapse.
"No." He whispered as Frank tried to pick him up and carry him.
The guitarist nodded solemnly. He continued to help the singer take slow, uncertain steps.
Eventually, he sat Gerard down in a chair, setting his crutches on the floor.
The crowd screamed. People held up posters.
We love you, Gerard! One read.
Hope you're feeling better! Said another.
Gerard threw up onstage that night, but other than that, it was okay.
