fic
So I wrote this within like five minutes and it kind of sucks, but I had this rush of inspiration. From watching a Tobygames video, of all things.
“Brian… will you be my sponsor?” Gerard’s voice is hopeful.
Brian shakes his head, presses the pads of his fingers against his eyes. “No, Gee, I can’t.”
A heavy sigh filters in over the headset. “Why not? You… you’ve helped me so much already and I don’t… I don’t trust anyone else to take care of me like you do.”
For a split second, Brian hates the fact that Gerard’s therapist is so fucking good because Gerard wouldn’t be telling Brian these things if he weren’t. Brian wouldn’t be feeling so guilty about this. He knows it’s for the best. He can’t sponsor Gerard.
“I can’t do it, Gerard. I can’t be there for you like that. I’m your band manager.”
“But… Brian…”
Brian bites his lip. “Gerard, I’m sorry, I can’t.”
The line is quiet for a few moments. “Okay. Alright, fine, I get it.”
“You can still call me whenever you need to, Gerard.” Brian worries that he’s fucked things up now because he recognized that tone, that closed off, cold tone. “Please call me,” he adds softly.
“I will,” Gerard snaps, but it’s not filled with the venom that Brian knows Gerard can manage.
Brian nods to himself.
“I need to go, Brian, my meeting’s in a few minutes.”
Brian glances up at the clock; it’s only four in Jersey and Gerard’s AA meeting doesn’t start until five. “Yeah, alright. I’ll talk to you later. Call me if you need anything and tell Frank that I’m going to kick his ass if he breaks another guitar.”
“Bye, Brian.”
The line clicks and Brian rubs at his forehead wearily, before sliding the bottle of pills out of his pocket and downing a handful.
He tries to convince himself that the reason he can’t sponsor Gerard is because he’s too close to him and not because he’s spiraling himself. It works for all of a minute.
“Brian… will you be my sponsor?” Gerard’s voice is hopeful.
Brian shakes his head, presses the pads of his fingers against his eyes. “No, Gee, I can’t.”
A heavy sigh filters in over the headset. “Why not? You… you’ve helped me so much already and I don’t… I don’t trust anyone else to take care of me like you do.”
For a split second, Brian hates the fact that Gerard’s therapist is so fucking good because Gerard wouldn’t be telling Brian these things if he weren’t. Brian wouldn’t be feeling so guilty about this. He knows it’s for the best. He can’t sponsor Gerard.
“I can’t do it, Gerard. I can’t be there for you like that. I’m your band manager.”
“But… Brian…”
Brian bites his lip. “Gerard, I’m sorry, I can’t.”
The line is quiet for a few moments. “Okay. Alright, fine, I get it.”
“You can still call me whenever you need to, Gerard.” Brian worries that he’s fucked things up now because he recognized that tone, that closed off, cold tone. “Please call me,” he adds softly.
“I will,” Gerard snaps, but it’s not filled with the venom that Brian knows Gerard can manage.
Brian nods to himself.
“I need to go, Brian, my meeting’s in a few minutes.”
Brian glances up at the clock; it’s only four in Jersey and Gerard’s AA meeting doesn’t start until five. “Yeah, alright. I’ll talk to you later. Call me if you need anything and tell Frank that I’m going to kick his ass if he breaks another guitar.”
“Bye, Brian.”
The line clicks and Brian rubs at his forehead wearily, before sliding the bottle of pills out of his pocket and downing a handful.
He tries to convince himself that the reason he can’t sponsor Gerard is because he’s too close to him and not because he’s spiraling himself. It works for all of a minute.