Dirty Scratches, Scabs and Ashes (title from Back Of Your Mouth- The Used)
The grey wind is pouring through his too-long hair. The stones on the bridge beneath his feet begin to vibrate as he knows they will always do. A crow cries overhead. Bert can almost hear the tears hitting the black and yellow stone. The train makes its sound in the distance. He descends the metal stairs.
//
Thin, delicate-looking silver slits skin. Opening a red channel. Bert thinks it looks like the Styx. He ignores the pain because it clears his mind, opens his thoughts like it does his flesh. Blood collects around his feet. He has cut too deep. Black spots spill over his vision. He wonders why he does this and then he remembers and slices harder. The black plastic handle feels good in his fingers and the warming blade feels good buried in the flesh of his legs.
//
He sits in the damp chill of his cold car, an overdose rushing through his veins. Drugs could just replace his blood now, Bert thinks. His red turned to blue. Poetic somehow. His eyes slip closed against his will. Blood slows from his veins. Blue, he thinks again. He will be blue when they find him, like when they found him when he cut too deep. He found him. He always did.
//
The tracks vibrate against his cheek. He presses his face closer to the shivering metal and stretches his arms up over his head, entwines his fingers and places them underneath his lying head, to support it. He waits, and the tracks shake more violently. The train rumbles in the distance. The note crinkles happily in his pocket. Bert thinks that maybe this is his time. He doesn't know why he has written the note, by the time the train stops moving, his body will be far too mangled and destroyed to recognise it, never mind to be able to find and read the thin, cheap paper of the note that he has poured his violent heartbreak onto. The paper (suicide) note will stand no chance of being found and deciphered.
If it was no one would understand it any(he would)way so it doesn't matter. The sky is grey and it matches the biting wind. The train's horn blows. Bert wonders if the driver can see him already. There is extra movement on the track. Bert turns his head and he(he-he-he-he) is making his way over the rumbling metal. He lies beside Bert and turns his head to him. "Hello." Gerard says conversationally. "Hi. How's Frank?" Bert asks hollowly, turning his head back to the sky. Gerard is surprised; to him his ex-fiancée asking about his new fiancée was strange. "He's fine. Thank you." Gerard responds. It was especially strange when he had called off the marriage to Bert with a confession that he had been sleeping with Frank Iero. "Good. That's...good." Bert breathes, watching a bird drifting across the grey sky. "You're about to...waste everything you have." Gerard reasons, turning his head to look into his ex-soul mate's blue eyes. "I haven't wasted a thing, except my time. What do I have?" Bert asks the bird. Gerard exhales. This will be harder than before. He had saved him before, but then he had Quinn to help him find Bert when he had one of his bad days. "What are you doing here?" Bert whispers when the smoke of the train appears over the hill and the tracks begin to sound.
"I don't know." Gerard responds unthinkingly, and turns his face to Bert's when he hears the other hold his breath. "If you're going to say goodbye, then I could say goodbye too." He tries instead, but Bert was already shaking his head slowly. "This isn't good for you. You don't. Have. I don't need to be looked after. Leave me to my own devices."
"Why do you want to destroy yourself?" Gerard hitches his breath painfully in his throat. The tracks are starting to slowly warm against his flesh. Bert's blue eyes follow a bird's path into the cold winter sky and watch as it lands in a tree. "I wonder what it's like to fly. Maybe God knows."
"You don't believe in God." Gerard licks his lip and tastes salt from tears. Bert looks at Gerard slowly. "I know. But. Just. I want to be able to fly when I can't fall."
Gerard is out of his depth. Bert knows this. "Get off the tracks." He says. Gerard looks at him. "Only if you do." They stare each other down. The crow cries out. "What about Frank?" Bert tests.
"He'll live."
"You won't."
"I know. That's kind of the point."
Bert shakes his head, despairingly. "Frank will be upset." Gerard doesn't respond.
"I think I love Quinn." Bert tells the sky.
"I know."
"He doesn't love me." Bert exhales.
"I know." Gerard murmurs.
"Alright. Alright." Bert says quietly when the ground starts to shake. He rises and holds a hand for Gerard to take. He does and they step off the tracks together. Gerard takes his hand back. "I'm sorry." Bert says. The train's horn blows, warning them. It's close. Very close.
Bert shoves Gerard forward; far from the tracks and steps back onto it himself. He stands on the rotting wooden boards and says again, "I'm sorry."
Then the train blows him away.
Gerard falls to his knees.
The grey wind is pouring through his too-long hair. The stones on the bridge beneath his feet begin to vibrate as he knows they will always do. A crow cries overhead. Bert can almost hear the tears hitting the black and yellow stone. The train makes its sound in the distance. He descends the metal stairs.
//
Thin, delicate-looking silver slits skin. Opening a red channel. Bert thinks it looks like the Styx. He ignores the pain because it clears his mind, opens his thoughts like it does his flesh. Blood collects around his feet. He has cut too deep. Black spots spill over his vision. He wonders why he does this and then he remembers and slices harder. The black plastic handle feels good in his fingers and the warming blade feels good buried in the flesh of his legs.
//
He sits in the damp chill of his cold car, an overdose rushing through his veins. Drugs could just replace his blood now, Bert thinks. His red turned to blue. Poetic somehow. His eyes slip closed against his will. Blood slows from his veins. Blue, he thinks again. He will be blue when they find him, like when they found him when he cut too deep. He found him. He always did.
//
The tracks vibrate against his cheek. He presses his face closer to the shivering metal and stretches his arms up over his head, entwines his fingers and places them underneath his lying head, to support it. He waits, and the tracks shake more violently. The train rumbles in the distance. The note crinkles happily in his pocket. Bert thinks that maybe this is his time. He doesn't know why he has written the note, by the time the train stops moving, his body will be far too mangled and destroyed to recognise it, never mind to be able to find and read the thin, cheap paper of the note that he has poured his violent heartbreak onto. The paper (suicide) note will stand no chance of being found and deciphered.
If it was no one would understand it any(he would)way so it doesn't matter. The sky is grey and it matches the biting wind. The train's horn blows. Bert wonders if the driver can see him already. There is extra movement on the track. Bert turns his head and he(he-he-he-he) is making his way over the rumbling metal. He lies beside Bert and turns his head to him. "Hello." Gerard says conversationally. "Hi. How's Frank?" Bert asks hollowly, turning his head back to the sky. Gerard is surprised; to him his ex-fiancée asking about his new fiancée was strange. "He's fine. Thank you." Gerard responds. It was especially strange when he had called off the marriage to Bert with a confession that he had been sleeping with Frank Iero. "Good. That's...good." Bert breathes, watching a bird drifting across the grey sky. "You're about to...waste everything you have." Gerard reasons, turning his head to look into his ex-soul mate's blue eyes. "I haven't wasted a thing, except my time. What do I have?" Bert asks the bird. Gerard exhales. This will be harder than before. He had saved him before, but then he had Quinn to help him find Bert when he had one of his bad days. "What are you doing here?" Bert whispers when the smoke of the train appears over the hill and the tracks begin to sound.
"I don't know." Gerard responds unthinkingly, and turns his face to Bert's when he hears the other hold his breath. "If you're going to say goodbye, then I could say goodbye too." He tries instead, but Bert was already shaking his head slowly. "This isn't good for you. You don't. Have. I don't need to be looked after. Leave me to my own devices."
"Why do you want to destroy yourself?" Gerard hitches his breath painfully in his throat. The tracks are starting to slowly warm against his flesh. Bert's blue eyes follow a bird's path into the cold winter sky and watch as it lands in a tree. "I wonder what it's like to fly. Maybe God knows."
"You don't believe in God." Gerard licks his lip and tastes salt from tears. Bert looks at Gerard slowly. "I know. But. Just. I want to be able to fly when I can't fall."
Gerard is out of his depth. Bert knows this. "Get off the tracks." He says. Gerard looks at him. "Only if you do." They stare each other down. The crow cries out. "What about Frank?" Bert tests.
"He'll live."
"You won't."
"I know. That's kind of the point."
Bert shakes his head, despairingly. "Frank will be upset." Gerard doesn't respond.
"I think I love Quinn." Bert tells the sky.
"I know."
"He doesn't love me." Bert exhales.
"I know." Gerard murmurs.
"Alright. Alright." Bert says quietly when the ground starts to shake. He rises and holds a hand for Gerard to take. He does and they step off the tracks together. Gerard takes his hand back. "I'm sorry." Bert says. The train's horn blows, warning them. It's close. Very close.
Bert shoves Gerard forward; far from the tracks and steps back onto it himself. He stands on the rotting wooden boards and says again, "I'm sorry."
Then the train blows him away.
Gerard falls to his knees.
