Tremors

Charcoal stubs.

Shredded rips of paper.

A biro.

An empty packet of cigarettes.

The only things in Gerard's suitcase.


***

"I can't understand what they're saying! All I can say is thank you, but I'm sure I say that wrong. I'll just nod. I'll nod, shall I?"

Frank nods in the general direction of Gerard's voice, unable to hold his focus for longer than two seconds. They hurry down a corridor in a sweaty Spanish airport. Another stop on another tour.

The heat is getting to them all; Gerard being the only one talking. Gerard talks enough for all of them.

"Hey, Frank! Do you think we'll be getting any trains here? I feel like a train journey would be really relaxing right now, you know?" Frank nods, not having to force a smile.

Later, when everybody's alone, Gerard shakes. He shakes so hard he knocks his drink over, so hard that the glass smashes. The cheap glass shards skitter across the floor with a sharp sound, scaring Gerard. The liquid snakes between the pieces, clear liquid proving that Gerard is still strong. It brings Frank to his room.

Frank finds Gerard curled into the cold sheets of his bed, shaking. Frank looks at him and sighs. Gerard used to shake like this, so Frank knows what to do. He lies Gerard across his lap and strokes over the top of his head. The dye is coming out, Frank notices.


***

Before-show jitters make Frank feel like he's having a heart attack. It's a familiar feeling that he welcomes, because it reminds him that everything is normal.

Gerard tends to move around a lot when he's nervous, bouncing and singing and dancing. He's happy when he's nervous.


***

After-show jitters are different. They make everyone feel like they've had a heart attack. It creates a happy buzz that used to keep them awake until the early hours of the morning. Since the start, they've grown used to going to hiding under the covers with a thumping heartbeat and smiles on their faces.

Except Gerard. The heat of the lights and the pounding bass hit him harder than the rest. They sneak into the crevices of his soul and touch - only for a moment - a part of him he'll never understand. Those seconds are the seconds he lives for, and the aftermath is invisible in the shadow of the shining light.

Gerard can never sleep after shows. The memory of those pieces embedded in his soul are those he cannot forget, and he knows that. That's what he sacrifices.


***

They do get a train. A normal train that's journey takes the band through the Spanish countryside. They pass the infamous ghost towns and fly past fields of green and gold.

There's no air conditioning, and Mikey makes sure everyone knows he disapproves. Ray agrees, but reads. Gerard doesn't mind- he has his music and his thoughts. Frank doesn't mind- he has the view and Gerard across from him.

It's a quiet journey.


***

Frank thinks of Gerard as a close friend. Most of the time, too close. But in those rare and surreptitious minutes, Gerard is the closest person to Frank.

Frank knows that he shouldn't be so involved. He knows that those heated words and sneaking touches are next to nothing on Gerard's scale of importance; but Frank has been sucked into the vortex that is Gerard Way. He's one of the millions that's enamoured by the artistic imagination and sharp exterior. He's just a little closer to him than those teenagers around the world.

Late night kisses and early morning knowing smirks seem like nothing now, Frank has grown used to the pull he feels whenever Gerard looks at him. His stomach stills drops whenever Gerard saunters toward him with an eyebrow lifted oh-so elegantly, but it doesn't hurt as much.


***

One night, Gerard falls asleep on Franks bed after eating dinner. They had just arrived at the new hotel. Frank pulls a sheet over him and shuts off the light.

Gerard's room is immaculate in comparison to Frank's. There are no plates or cups on the table. The sheets are only a little rumpled. There are no personal belongings.

Franks decides to unpack Gerard's suitcase. He doesn't understand.


***

After however many years of writing and touring and writing and touring, none of the four band members remember much of their time in the band. Specific moments yes, but the years can't be seperated.

Frank has a good memory, but even he has a poor recollection of their history.

He remembers one of their first band practices with him. He can't recall the first. Gerard had dropped his coffee outside the building and spent another ten minutes walking to get another cup. Neither Frank nor Ray had a capo. Otter was convinced someone had tampered with his high-hat. Someone stole Mikey's glasses. It was a terrible practice.

He remembers sitting in an office, signing papers over to the label. He'd stared out the window and thought about how pretty and white the sky was.

He remembers that one show where someone had told him they hated the entire band, but they loved their music. He had thought that they were pretty nasty at first, but had later realised that they were the best kind of fan. They had also shook his hand.

He remembers his grandma dying. He remembers his second-to-last day of high school. He remembers his mom shouting about his curfew. Frank remembers things, but his favourite memories are of Gerard. He doesn't admit it to anyone, including himself. He tried that once- keeping it to himself, but it was more painful then.


***

It was still hot on their last night in Spain. Gerard hadn't learnt anything but a phrase Frank didn't know and wouldn't be enlightened about. Gerard liked to repeat it.

Frank found Gerard sat on the edge of the road outside their hotel. It was on a lonely highway near a ghost town. The sun had set, and Frank could bet that Gerard had seen it. The sky is black and empty, and the moon is far away.

"It's too hot," Gerard's words pierce through the wall of echoing silence and stun Frank into agreeing. The statement throws itself at the sky and smashes into it's inescapable confinements.

"I know. We have Italy after this. Rome."

Gerard hums in response. Then he looks at Frank with a sharp twist of his head. His dark eyes encompass Frank, swallowing him whole.

"You're scared, I can feel you trembling."

Frank hums in response.

The sky revolves around Gerard.


***

The train journey is different to their last one. Mikey complains about the heat. Ray reads. Gerard listens to music and stares out the window. Frank watches him.

Frank is the one to notice the difference. Gerard doesn't nod his head to the beat of his music, he doesn't mouth lyrics or tap his fingers. He blinks a lot, and takes deep breaths. He oozes a feeling of... something Frank can't comprehend. It's like he's speaking an alien language and Frank can't translate.

Frank leaves Gerard for several minutes to go to the toilet. When he gets back, Gerard's gone.

Ray didn't see him.

Mikey didn't see him.

Frank missed him.

The sky is the blue of trippy dreams, and that's what Frank desperately hopes this is as he makes the driver stop the train to look back.

But he knows. He knows Gerard because he read it in the shavings of charcoal. The lining of his empty suitcase. That was all he needed but because Gerard distracted him, Frank forgot.


***