Title: At the End of the World
Author: valerie_z
Pairings: Gerard/Bert, Gerard/Lyn-Z, Frank/Jamia, Bert/Alison
Summary: Bert threatens to leak his and Gerard's sex tape.
Rating: R
Notes: Takes place in the middle of Projekt Revolution. The idea came from the brilliant bexless. The D&D joke came from my wonderful husband. I know nothing about the real-life girlfriends in this fic, but I'm sure they're awesome, and I hope I've portrayed them respectfully. All of my bandslash is here. Thanks for reading.


Gerard was sitting at the table in the bus's kitchenette, eating Cheerios while Lindsey sat next to him reading the newspaper, when Frank walked in holding his cell phone against his chest and blurted out, "Bert's going to leak your sex tape on the internet."

Gerard choked on his Cheerios, doubled over, and spit milk all over his lap.

Lindsey turned a page in her newspaper and said, "Jimmy owes me five dollars."

Gerard stood up, still sputtering, and took a handful of napkins from the center of the table. "Wait," he said through a cough. "Wait. What?"

Frank moved closer to the table. "Jeph just called me. He said Bert has a sex tape of you and him, and he's gonna leak it online to boost sales of their new EP."

"Shit." Gerard leaned down and wiped at the milk on his legs, which had already managed to seep into the hole in the crotch of his pants. "When does the EP come out?"

"Three days," Frank said. "But after tonight's show we have two days off, so maybe we can stop him."

"Okay, okay." Gerard put his hand to his head. "We just need a plan. Something fast, violent, and sneaky. Like ninjas." He closed his eyes. "Who do we know who's a ninja?"

Lindsey put her newspaper down. "Gerard."

Gerard looked up at her with a panicked expression. "Oh my God, Linds. Do you still like me? I know this is huge - the sex tape, and the ex-boyfriend, and the ninjas - but hopefully you still like me. Right?"

She raised her eyebrows in mock anger. "What did I tell you about low self-esteem?"

Gerard smiled hopefully. "You find it adorable?"

"Call him," she said. "You were friends for a long time. I'm sure he'll listen to reason."

"Bert is completely unacquainted with reason," Frank explained.

"It's easy to hate someone when you never see them," Lindsey continued. "Once he hears your voice, it could diffuse the entire situation. Call him."

Gerard leaned over the table and gave her a goofy smile. "You're so smart."

Lyn smiled as she opened her newspaper again. "I know."

Frank flipped open his phone, put it on speaker, and dialed Jeph's number. He placed it on the center of the table as it rang.

"Hey Frank," Jeph answered. "Miss me already?"

"Hey," Frank said. "Um...can I talk to Bert?"

There was a pause. "Don't tell him I told you. Blame Brian or something."

"No problem, man," Frank said.

There was a rustling noise, some mumbling, and a loud cough. "What's up, Frank?" Bert said in a scratchy voice.

"Hey there," Frank said in an overly-cheerful tone. "How's it goin'?" There was no reply. "Yeah, so, rumor has it you're releasing some sort of um, tape, and I was wondering if maybe you could..." He tapped his fingers on the table. "Not do that?"

Bert let out a sound that sounded like something between a chuckle and spitting out phlegm. "I don't know what you're talking about, man."

Gerard leaned on the table, moving closer to the phone. "Bert?"

The other end of the line was silent.

"Bert," Gerard said. "I know we've had our differences, but it's time we put this all behind us. We've hurt each other enough. I need you to destroy that tape."

There was a long pause, and Gerard was afraid Bert had hung up. He was leaning over the phone to check the display when Bert started speaking again.

"It's funny to hear from you," Bert said, in a dark voice that suggested anything but humor. "Because, if I'm remembering this right, the last thing you said to me, two years ago in my tour bus, was something like, 'This isn't working out, Bert. You are a destructive influence.'"

"It wasn't..." Gerard cleared his throat. "I didn't mean it like –"

"And if I'm remembering this right," Bert continued, his voice getting louder. "I said, 'Fuck you, Gerard, you self-righteous phony. Don't you ever come near me again, you lying sack of SHIT!'" His shouting turned into a scream, and there was the sound of the phone being disconnected.

Gerard flipped the phone closed and looked at it a moment before handing it back to Frank. "Well, that went better than I thought it would."

Frank turned the phone over in his hands a few times. "So what's Plan B? Full-scale military operation?"

"Frank," Gerard said. "Earlier this morning you and I managed to destroy two spatulas, a frying pan, and a pair of shoes while attempting to make French toast. I think a military operation is a little beyond us."

Frank opened his phone. "That's why I'm calling the most bad-ass evil genius I know." He hit a button, put the phone to his ear, and said, "Jamia? Hi, honey."

Lindsey stood up. "If she's going, can I go too?" She moved to Gerard's side and gave him an embarrassed smile. "I have a huge girl crush on her."

Gerard snorted softly. "Join the club."

"Hold on a sec, baby." Frank pressed the phone against his chest and hissed, "I will beat up both of you."

"No you won't," Gerard said.

"I will pay Bob to beat up both of you." He spoke into the phone. "All right, meeting in the bus, whenever you're ready."

A few minutes later Jamia joined them in the bus, and the four of them sat around the small kitchen table.

"Hey, Jamia," Lindsey said. "I like your shirt."

Jamia looked down at her chest while she took off her jacket. "Skeleton Crew," she said. "Tell your friends!"

"So you know how you watch that show The Unit?" Frank asked once they were all settled in their chairs.

Gerard chuckled. "Unit," he muttered.

"How'd you like to organize a real military recon operation?" Frank continued. "Except instead of a foreign country, it would be L.A. And instead of soldiers, you'd have us. And instead of classified intelligence, we'd be retrieving a, um." He cleared his throat. "A gay sex tape."

"This is my surprised face," Jamia said in a monotone.

"Will you do it?" Frank asked.

Jamia leaned back in her chair. "On one condition. I'm in charge, and you all have to do what I say."

"Absolutely!" Lindsey said with a smile. "Whatever you say."

"Frank," Jamia said. "Get me the exact address where this tape is located, then find the nearest motel and make reservations. Lindsey, talk to Brian and arrange a flight to L.A. early tomorrow morning. Gerard." She looked over at him and sighed. "Try not to make any more gay sex tapes."

Gerard narrowed his eyes. "Why would you automatically assume it was me?"

Jamia stood and lifted her purse to her shoulder. "Get to work, soldiers! We'll meet back here at 1400 hours to discuss strategy."

Lindsey leaned forward and waved. "Bye, Jamia! I'll see you later!"

"What's 1400 hours?" Frank asked.

"This is going well already," Gerard said as he let his head fall forward against the tabletop.

****

It's completely dark.

"This is a bad idea," Gerard says.

"You said anything I want," comes Bert's distinct voice from further away.

There's a rattling noise.

"I think the camera's broken," Gerard says.

"Lens cap, genius."

"Oh."

The picture comes into focus. It's a hotel room with one king size bed in the center of the frame. Bert lies on the bed and smokes a cigarette. One the nightstand beside him, there's a half-empty bottle of rum and a cluster of empty beer bottles.

"This is a bad idea," comes Gerard's voice from behind the camera.

Bert turns his head to face him. "You're gonna be all the way in Japan. I need something to beat off to."

Gerard moves into the picture and sits on the edge of the bed. "You know, we're not married. You can find someone else to blow you."

Bert smiles as he exhales smoke through his nose. "I will." He drops the cigarette butt in an empty beer bottle and slides closer to Gerard. "I'm not gonna miss getting my dick sucked. I'm gonna miss getting my dick sucked by you."

Gerard looks down at him. "So fucking romantic, asshole."

"Fuck yeah," Bert says, and he pulls Gerard down to kiss him.

****

Somehow Jamia managed to get a construction map of Bert's house faxed to her. Gerard sat down next to Frank on the floor of the bus's lounge and tried not to think about how once he still couldn't figure out which trailer Matt lived in, much less where he would be able to find a fax machine. Jamia and Lindsey sat across from them, and Jamia outlined their plan of attack. Then Frank explained the motel arrangements, Lindsey handed them all confirmation print-outs for their e-tickets, and Gerard pointed out where in the house he thought Bert would keep the sex tape.

"There's a bookcase in the living room that's just porn," Gerard said, tracing his finger over the blueprints. "And then a few boxes in the closet. But we may have to widen the search. He had a massive porn collection when I knew him, and I'm sure it's grown since then."

"Bert and his girlfriend are visiting Jeph right now in Utah," Frank said. "I'm not sure when they're getting home."

"Tomorrow night," Jamia responded. "So we only have one shot."

"How do you know Bert's travel plans?" Gerard asked.

"I have a source in The Used."

"Who?"

Jamia rolled her eyes. "Right, because that's how I got to be an evil mastermind, by telling everyone who my secret sources are."

Gerard's eyes widened. "Do you have a source in my band?"

"You're retarded," Jamia said as she gathered up her maps.

Gerard leaned forward and whispered, "Did your secret source tell you I'm retarded?"

Lindsey leaned back against the sofa and crossed her legs. "Do you have a source in me?"

Jamia smiled. "Do you want me to?"

Lindsey blushed. "Maybe."

"What are they talking about?" Gerard whispered to Frank.

"You're retarded," Frank muttered.

Gerard's mouth fell open. "You're the secret source!"

Jamia stood up. "Let's get to bed right after the show, soldiers. We're leaving at 0800 hours."

"I still don't understand that," Frank muttered.

****

Bert lies on the bed, completely naked, his thin body looking half-eaten by the messed-up sheets. He's breathing heavily, but it slows down as the water runs in the bathroom and then stops. Gerard emerges, fully dressed, with his face wet and one hand over his eye.

"You're such a dick," Gerard says.

Bert sits up and holds his hands out in a gesture of innocence. "You told me to!"

"I said 'on my face' not 'in my eye'."

"How much porn do we watch, and you don't know to close your eyes?" Bert rises up on his knees and gestures for Gerard to move closer. "Come here, Princess."

Gerard sits down at the foot of the bed, and Bert removes his hand from his face. "Look up," he says. He gently runs his finger underneath Gerard's eye, and Gerard blinks reflexively. Bert leans down and kisses him softly just underneath his injured eye.

"You're a pussy," Bert whispers.

"Kiss my ass," Gerard says as he stifles a laugh.

"Take your pants off and I will." Bert reaches for Gerard's belt buckle, but Gerard jerks backwards.

"Come on," Bert says as he slowly pushes Gerard onto his back. "What kind of asshole would I be if I didn't return the favor? My mother would be ashamed of my behavior."

"That is so disturbing." Gerard cranes his neck to see over Bert's shoulder. "Is the camera still on?"

"It's almost out of tape," Bert says, his voice slightly muffled as he kisses down Gerard's neck.

Gerard wraps one arm around Bert's back. "I'm not taking my shirt off if the camera's on."

Bert licks up the curve of Gerard's neck until their faces meet. "Like I give a shit." He snakes his hand between their bodies and there's the sound of a zipper.

Gerard's head rolls back, and he lets out a soft, long groan. Bert's hand works underneath him as their bodies move against each other.

"Good?" Bert whispers.

"Yeah," Gerard breathes out.

Bert bends his head forward, exhales hard and hot against Gerard's neck, and sucks his ear into his mouth briefly, before releasing it with a small kiss. "I'm good to you," he says in a barely-audible whisper.

"Yeah."

Bert traces his finger down the curve of Gerard's jaw. "So you'll come back?"

Gerard blinks and looks up at him. "What?"

"What?" Bert gives him a goofy half-smile, slides down his body, and tugs his pants to his knees.

***

The four of them dropped off their bags at the motel and then went straight to Bert's house. Frank tried the front door, but it was locked, and the usual credit card method didn't do the trick.

"We'll just have to smash in a window," Jamia said.

Gerard looked around. "Won't his neighbors call the cops?"

"It's Bert," Jamia said. "The neighbors are probably used to parades of heroin dealers and whores."

"He's not as bad as everyone thinks," Gerard muttered.

"Don't even," Frank said as he stepped away from the door.

"What?"

"You know what," Frank continued. "One minute it's 'Bert's not such a bad guy', and the next minute you're sucking his dick in a public bathroom."

Gerard threw his hands up. "That was four years ago!"

"And I'm still emotionally scarred!"

"You're supposed to knock!"

Suddenly Lindsey took a few steps past them, raised one black boot, kicked the door so hard the entire porch shook, and then turned to them as the door swung open.

"I got the door," she said with a smile.

"Holy shit," Frank muttered.

Gerard stared at her.

"So do you fight crime at night?" Jamia said with a wink as she walked into the house.

Gerard approached Lindsey and took one of her hands in his. "Linds, I...I just..." His eyes flicked downward. "I don't really suck dick in public bathrooms."

Lindsey leaned closer to him and kissed the end of his nose. "That's too bad, because I do."

The living room wasn't much different from how Gerard remembered it. There was the big screen television, the couch torn up at every corner from Bert's many tiny dogs, and a large depression-glass ashtray on the wooden coffee table. Something seemed off, but Gerard figured it was Alison's influence, though nothing in the room looked particularly feminine.

"Gerard?" Frank said.

Gerard moved to where the others were standing by two tall, wooden bookshelves filled with DVDs, CD-ROMs, and even a few VHS tapes.

"Any idea what we're looking for?" Frank asked.

"It was one of those mini-tapes," Gerard told them. "But he used to have C.W. convert all his tapes to DVD, so check those first. It'll be labeled 'Princess Lay Me'." He sighed. "Please don't ask me why."

Jamia surveyed the area. "We'll just have to go through them one-by-one. Frank and I will take this bookcase, and Jenna Jamison and Buffy can take that one."

Gerard stood next to Lindsey and they worked silently for a while, examining labels and opening DVD cases.

Lindsey chuckled at one of the cases as she removed it from the shelf. "Ultimate Chicks with Dicks 9. Wow."

"That one sucks," Gerard said. "Seven was the best, and then they totally jumped the shark in eight."

Lindsey looked up at him.

Gerard placed the VHS tape he was examining back on the shelf and looked up at her with wide eyes. "Um...do you still like me?"

Lindsey just smiled.

Gerard sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm sure when you went out on this tour you didn't think you'd get stuck with a boyfriend who has a gay sex tape and knows a lot about tranny porn and thinks a fun date involves writing on your arms with a Sharpie –"

"Gerard." Lindsey took a step forward and tapped his chest with Ultimate Chicks with Dicks 9. "You don't get it," she said. "I love you."

Gerard just stared at her.

"I love you when you're drawing umbrellas on my arm," she continued. "I love you when you're writing unironic songs about zombies. When you're embarrassed about having exes. When you're onstage lecturing the crowd about mosh pit safety like a total dork. When you're picky about your food. When you get so wrapped up in writing I don't see you all day." She pressed the DVD flat against his chest. "I love you when I lean against you when we watch Army of Darkness for the eightieth fucking time, and you kiss my forehead and play with my hair. I love you when you get into screaming arguments with Ray over the rules in Magic the Gathering."

Gerard tried to surreptitiously wipe the tears out of his eyes while pretending to scratch his nose.

Lindsey lowered her voice. "That's what love means. When you love everything about a person without exception. And I love all of you." She kissed him briefly on the lips as she slid the DVD into his hand. "Even your tranny porn." Lindsey turned to face the others. "Jamia? How are we on time?"

Jamia checked her watch. "Shit. Their plane's about to land. Half an hour tops."

Frank let a VHS tape fall out of his hand and onto the carpet. "I don't think it's here. I mean, if you lived with someone, would you keep a sex tape of your ex in plain view?"

As Gerard moved toward them, he let his hand run across the edge of the depression-glass ashtray. It was heavy and green with a subtle vine pattern, and Gerard remembered it from Bert's old place in Utah, how its antique style fit in so perfectly with the sparse, garage-sale furnishings in the apartment.

"He must have it hidden," Jamia said. "And we don't have time to tear the house apart."

"What's next?" Lindsey asked.

"Wait a minute," Gerard muttered. He ran his finger down the inside slope of the smooth glass. "This ashtray's clean."

"We'll come back tomorrow," Jamia said. "We'll have to confront Bert."

"At least we outnumber him," Frank said with a smile.

Jamia put her arm around Frank and led him toward the door. "Neither you nor Gerard count as people."

Lindsey rushed to Jamia's side and whispered something in her ear as they exited.

"Hey!" Gerard called out. "I count as a person!" He rushed after them.

****

Gerard lies on one side of the bed, fully clothed, while Bert lies on the other side, naked and smoking a cigarette.

"What about the one that goes 'do do doot do do do'?" Gerard asks.

Bert nods. "That one made the album." He hands the cigarette to Gerard.

Gerard takes a drag, holding his hand with his fingertips splayed out. "What about the one that goes 'neet neet neet neet neet'?"

"Nope."

"Ass," Gerard says. "I liked that one."

Bert reaches out to flick his thigh. "Give it."

Gerard hands over the cigarette.

"It'll be a bonus track or a B-side," Bert says in a choked voice as he inhales. "Some shit like that." He flicks the ashes on the floor and hands the cigarette back. "When are you leaving?"

Gerard turns to look at the clock on the nightstand. "I have to be at the airport in four hours."

Bert looks up at the ceiling and tightens his mouth into a thin line. "You should get some sleep."

"I'd rather stay up with you."

Bert turns his head so he can make eye contact with Gerard. "Be careful, okay?"

Gerard drops the cigarette in an empty beer bottle. "I'll be on the lookout for Godzilla."

"I'm serious."

Gerard's expression hardens and he looks down at his hands. "Don't."

Bert sits up. "You've been drinking a lot."

"He says without a hint of irony," Gerard mutters. He stands and takes a pack of cigarettes off the nightstand, opens it, discovers it's empty, and tosses it to the floor.

"I drink too much, yeah, but you're trying to kill yourself."

"I'm not trying to kill myself." Gerard reaches for something else on the nightstand, but succeeds only in knocking over a beer bottle. A trickle of liquid spills over the polished wood. "Fuck."

"What did we do Saturday night?" Bert asks.

Gerard abandons his search and turns to face the bed. "I don't know. Saturday was a long time ago."

"Saturday was two days ago."

Gerard looks down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at Bert, though he focuses his eyes just to the side of Bert's face. "If I drank anything, you bought it."

Bert is on his feet in an instant. "Fuck you!" He stands close to Gerard, his fists clenched at his sides. "I got a twelve-pack for me, you, and Quinn to share. You showed up with a pint of vodka, drained it, and then wandered off and got something else from one of the techs." Bert looks Gerard straight in the eye. "I found you passed out in the parking lot. When I woke you up, you took a swing at me and then puked. I had to drag you to your bus and fucking force you to drink some water." Bert takes a step forward, so their bodies are nearly touching, and Gerard averts his eyes. "Why do you think I was there in the morning? Why do you think I stuck around? You think I wanted you to wake up and blow me?" His voice shakes. "You were puking up shit in your sleep. You kept choking on it. I stayed up with you all night. I thought you were gonna die."

Gerard looks up at him. "I didn't ask you to do that."

"Who did you want me to call? You want Mikey to see you like that? Or I could call Brian and see how fast he cancels the tour."

"You must've told them something," Gerard snaps. "'Cause they've been on my ass too. Every day I have to hear some bullshit lecture." He pushes past Bert and heads for the door.

Bert rushes up behind him and grabs his arm. "Don’t you fucking leave!"

"I have a flight."

"You have four hours," Bert says, his voice low. "You said you'd stay here with me."

Gerard shoves Bert hard in the chest, but Bert hangs on, and manages to pull Gerard down onto the bed. They land with Gerard mostly on top of Bert. Bert grabs his shirt at each shoulder and twists the fabric in his hands, but Gerard doesn't try to get up. His body seems to fold into Bert's, his chest collapsing as he exhales with a noise that's like something between a moan and a sob. He grabs Bert's hair with both hands and kisses him.

****

When the door opened, Jamia said, "We're here to um...launch a military strike against Bert."

"Oh," Alison said. "Would you like some tea?"

They assembled in the dining room, sitting around the table and exchanging worried looks as Alison put the water on. She was a short, thin woman with pretty eyes and long hair, who looked strikingly attractive even though she didn't appear to be wearing make-up. She re-entered the room with a tray of cookies and some napkins.

"I hope we're not intruding," Lindsey said.

"Not at all." Alison handed her a napkin. "Someone's always launching a military strike against Bert. Last week it was Green Day, and Billy Corgan's been here twice." Alison sat at the head of the table. "It's gotten to the point where, every time I go to the store, I pick up two packs of cookies just for when people come round to kill Bert."

"Is he here?" Frank asked.

"He's asleep." Alison laughed. "I'm doing consulting work for my old company, and I thought it'd be hell telecommuting, but Bert's been keeping Australian hours for years." The sound of a teakettle came from the other room, and she stood up. "Excuse me. I'll just be a moment."

"She's so nice," Lindsey whispered with a guilty look.

"We're not here to hurt her," Frank said.

Gerard glared at him. "We're not here to hurt anyone."

"Don't you start," Frank hissed. "I'm putting a no-dick-sucking order on you for the next twenty-four hours."

Jamia put her hand over his mouth. "Ignore him. We just switched to ultra-lights."

"Really?" Lindsey asked. "How's that working out?"

"Not bad, actually. I think we'll be able to quit within a year if we don't kill each other first."

"I do not suck dick," Gerard announced to no one in particular. "Lately."

Alison walked in the room with a tea tray and began serving the drinks. "Did I hear someone mention quitting cigarettes?"

"We switched to ultra-lights," Jamia told her as she accepted a cup and reached for the creamer. "If we can live through a few months, they make a nicotine-free cigarette I want to try."

"That way you still have the psychological addiction, right?" Lindsey asked. "It seems like that would be the hardest part."

"I should look into that," Alison said as she blew on the top of her delicate china cup. "Bert and I couldn't last two days on the patch."

Gerard looked up from his tea. "Bert's quitting smoking?"

"He cut down to less than a pack a day, which is a big deal for him. I don't know if he'll manage more, but he's trying." She took a sip of her tea. "He's doing much better with the alcohol."

Gerard fumbled his tea cup, almost dropping it, and spilled some of the hot liquid on his fingers. "Bert...ow, fuck..." He shook his hand. "Bert quit drinking?"

"Hard liquor, at least," Alison said. "And he tries to keep the beer to a minimum." She chuckled. "Once he got completely sloshed on wine coolers. It was priceless. He has no tolerance any more."

Gerard leaned forward, his mouth open and his forehead lined. "Alison, how..." he said in an awed voice. "How did you do that?"

Alison poured herself another cup of tea. "I didn't do anything. When he had that node on his vocal chords, the first thing the doctor said was 'tumor'." She spooned some sugar into her tea and stirred it. "It wasn't a tumor, of course, but before the MRI that was one of the theories. Then when he was in the hospital they kept finding minor problems, one right after the other. His stomach lining's damaged, his pancreas is a mess, and he has the lung capacity of an old man. They even said he might need a liver transplant before he's thirty."

"Is he okay?" Jamia asked.

"He's fine. I think he just realized he's mortal." She reached for the creamer. "The day he got out of the hospital, he came in here and cleaned up. No more liquor, no more drugs. We could've bought a second house with what he flushed down the toilet."

Lindsey looked over to Gerard, who was staring at Alison like she'd grown a second head. "That's impressive," she said to Alison. "You must be thrilled that he quit."

Alison shrugged one shoulder. "Now I have to fly to Quinn's every time I want to smoke a joint." She took a sip of her tea. "My mother always said, 'If you love someone, you love them', and I suppose that's what I do. If you love someone, you love them when they're successful, you love them when they're broke, you love them when they're sober, and you love them when they're vomiting on your shoes." She looked over at Gerard. "But you must know all about that."

Gerard choked on his tea. "What?" he gasped. "No, I didn't..." He looked to Frank for help, but Frank was distracted by a cookie. "There were rumors, but Bert and I never –"

Alison reached out and put her hand on his. "It's all right. If I wanted to avoid all the people Bert's had sex with, I'd have to move to the Arctic."

"Actually," Jamia said, her eyes darting to Frank beside her. "Once he hooked up with our friend Kirima, and she's, um..."

"An Eskimo," Frank finished for her.

There was a banging sound from somewhere down the hall, followed by a dog barking.

"He's awake," Alison said with a smile. She gave Gerard's hand a squeeze. "I'll give you a Diet Coke to bring him. That might prevent him from spitting at you."

At the door to the bedroom, the four of them paused. "You two go in first," Jamia said. "He might respond better if he doesn't feel cornered. Lindsey and I will stay here if you need back-up muscle."

"I have muscle," Gerard said.

"This is no time for jokes." Jamia pushed them both forward. "Good luck, guys."

Bert was lying on his bed, smoking a cigarette and petting a tiny, fluffy Yorkshire terrier. Gerard's first thought was that he looked so different. His hair was blond, and though it was his natural color, he'd been dying it for so long that it just seemed wrong. After a lifetime of being strung-out and skinny, Bert was almost at a healthy weight, and it made his sharp, dangerous features appear warmer. Though only these few things had changed, he was transformed. He wasn't Bert. Gerard felt a wave of grief.

Then Bert spotted them. His face hardened, he tilted his head down, and he glared up past his eyebrows with icy blue eyes, and expression as intimidating to strangers as it was transparent to friends. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, ran a hand through his hair, and exhaled smoke through his nose. And just from the way he moved, Gerard completely recognized him. It put him at ease, knowing that his Bert was still alive.

"Maybe you weren't aware of how much I hate you," Bert said in a low voice. "I thought I made that clear when I burned all the things you left at my house. Or when I had C.W. mail you the video of me burning all the things you left at my house." He took a drag off the cigarette. "Or when I wrote an album about how I hope you die."

Gerard placed the soda can on the floor halfway between them, like he was dealing with a wild animal and had to keep his distance.

"Get the fuck out." Bert ground out his cigarette in an ashtray on the nightstand. His hand was shaking.

"We're here to talk about the sex tape," Frank said, taking a step forward. "We're not leaving without it. And if we have to call them, there are two really bad-ass women on the other side of that door who will come in here and beat you up."

Bert looked down at his Yorkie. "Gordon, attack!"

Gordon lifted his leg and licked his ass.

"Bert," Frank said, his voice louder. "I'm not fucking playing –"

Bert stood up. "Don't you fucking raise your voice at me –"

"You think it's funny to fuck with people's lives –"

"You don't know shit about it, Frankie. You have no fucking –"

"It was personal!" Gerard shouted.

Bert and Frank looked over at him.

"It was a personal moment between us," Gerard explained. "That tape was something we did for each other, not for other people. It was meaningful." He swallowed hard. "It was sacred."

"Yeah," Bert said. "It really gave me the warm fuzzies the way you begged me to come on your face."

"Where's the tape?"

Bert's gaze flicked to the floor. "It's in a secret hiding place."

Gerard turned to Frank. "It's in his backpack. Check the front hall."

"Hey!" Bert took a step toward him, but Gerard moved between them, and Bert recoiled, as if it would burn him to get too close. "How did you...?"

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Your secret hiding place is always your backpack. We almost got arrested once because of your stupid secret hiding place."

Bert smiled. "Yeah, that was funny."

Frank opened the door. In the hallways, Jamia and Lindsey were pressed up against the wall and kissing.

"Holy shit!" Frank said.

"Alison!" Bert called out. "Get the camera!"

The two women pulled apart and Jamia pointed at the men. "None of you have any right to talk. Not after your shows lately."

Lindsey nodded. "They're calling it Projekt Gaymolution."

Gerard elbowed Frank and whispered, "Get the tape."

"Jamia!" Bert walked up to her with his arms extended. "I shoulda known you were the evil genius behind this."

"Hey, Bert," Jamia said, pulling him into a quick hug.

"How's the label?"

"We're gonna turn a profit next quarters."

"In this business that's a fucking miracle," Bert said. "Congratulations."

Jamia poked him in the chest. "You see some new talent, you give them my e-mail."

Bert nodded, then turned his attention to Lindsey. "Hi," he said, extending his hand. "My name is Bert, and I have a big dick."

"I'm dating Gerard."

"There are shots that can decontaminate you."

Frank appeared at the end of the hallway and held up a generic DVD case. "Got it!"

"Good to see you," Jamia said. She took Lindsey's hand and followed Frank down the hallway.

Gerard took a few steps toward the doorway, then turned and spotted Bert watching him intently.

"I'm..." Gerard wasn't sure how to finish the sentence. Going to leave now? Glad I saw you? Sorry for everything?

Still a little bit in love with you?

The bravado had all melted off Bert's face, and his eyes looked soft, almost afraid. "Get the fuck out of here," he said softly, his voice devoid of all venom. "Please."

It was the "please" that made Gerard hesitate. Bert wasn't one to ask politely. It had always been "gimme a cigarette", "buy me a dime bag", "suck my dick", with none including a "please".

Gerard bit down on his lower lip. From outside the room he could hear Jamia's laugh and Alison's accent.

Bert put one hand to his forehead, as if trying to massage out a painful thought. "Please."

Gerard thought about how he knew exactly how to rub Bert's temples to get rid of his headaches. He knew the smell of Bert's hair, and how the skin behind Bert's ears tasted. He could draw a map of Bert's body and write a book about the different ways he laughed, but now they couldn't even stand to be in the same room together.

Gerard turned and walked toward the sound of his friends.

The motel was a small, dingy dive where the old man at the front desk coughed all over the extra towels as he handed them over the counter. They spent the evening sitting on the cracked patio outside the rooms and watching the motel's other residents stumble in and out of their rooms.

"So," Jamia said, taking a drag off her cigarette and passing it to Frank. "This is the motel you picked. You're fired, Frank."

Frank sucked hard on the cigarette. "You put me on ultra lights, woman. What do you expect?" He shoved the cigarette in his mouth again and inhaled.

Jamia pulled it out of his mouth. "Slow down there, soldier."

"Fuck," Frank muttered. "When the world ends, I want my smokes back."

"But then you won't have time to enjoy them," Gerard pointed out.

"No, like, if we had warning," Frank explained. "Like if an asteroid was headed toward Earth, with impact in twenty-four hours." He closed his eyes and smiled. "I'll spend a whole day smoking Marlboro Reds."

"As long as you can do it in bed," Jamia said. "If the world's gonna end. I'm spending my last day getting laid."

Frank put his arm around her. "Smokes and my girl. Best day ever."

"Until we all die."

Frank nodded. "Until we all die."

Jamia looked over at Lindsey. "What about you?"

"Oh, my band already has a plan for an asteroid hitting the Earth," she said.

"Isn't that awesome?" Gerard said. "They also have a plan for a plague of werewolves."

"Both plans are really the same," Lindsey explained. "We get a spaceship and go out into space and slowly die from bone density loss caused by decreased calcium absorption."

"And I'm invited on the spaceship," Gerard said with a smile.

"For the last time, you're not allowed," Lindsey said, poking him in the side playfully. "Go get your own band spaceship."

"Fine, maybe I will."

"What about you?" Frank asked. "Where will you be when the asteroid's hurling toward us?"

"Drinking," Gerard said.

All eyes turned toward him.

"What?"

"You're an alcoholic," Frank said in an urgent whisper.

"It's the apocalypse," Gerard said. "I'd say all AA meetings are canceled." He looked off to the side. "And I don't want to be awake when it happens."

Lindsey patted his knee. "You're protecting yourself, aren't you?"

Gerard looked down into his lap. "I don't want to see the world end. It would be horrible...to have to watch people die."

There was a long silence. Lindsey lit a cigarette. Frank pulled Jamia's hand to his mouth and kissed it. Gerard stared at his hands.

"Well," Frank said finally. "At least we're done with Bert."

"He wasn't that bad today," Gerard said.

Frank sighed. "He's a troll."

"He was a lot more obnoxious a few years ago," Jamia pointed out.

Frank shook his head. "He's a troll and a demon."

"Yes," Lindsey said. "But they're both humanoids in the D&D realm."

Gerard looked up at her with wide eyes. "Will you marry me?"

Lindsey smiled. "Maybe later."

"Bed time for me," Jamia said as she stood up.

Frank stretched. "Yeah, us ultra-light-smoking senior citizens gotta go to sleep."

"We have to leave for the airport at nine," Jamia reminded them. "Goodnight, guys."

Gerard and Lindsey called out their goodnights as Frank and Jamia went into their room.

Gerard slid his plastic chair closer to Lindsey's and put his head on her shoulder. "When we get back to the tour we'll still have one night off. You wanna do something?"

Lindsey put her arm around him. "Sure," she said. "Maybe we could go to the mall and buy tons of action figures and then stage a massive battle in the kitchenette of your bus."

Gerard sighed happily. "Seriously, tomorrow I'm buying us wedding rings."

"Save your money for the new Marvel Zombies. I'm not a jewelry girl."

"Fine. Then I'll buy you a shirt with my name on it." He took a cigarette out of his pocket. "And a unicorn." He sat up and lit the cigarette. "In pastels."

Lindsey chuckled. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

Gerard turned his head so he could look into her eyes. "This is a promise," he said, and he kissed her.

When they pulled apart Lindsey whispered, "What happened between you and Bert?"

Gerard leaned back in his seat and groaned softly. "Does it matter?"

"Do you really think I'd jointly purchase action figures with a guy without doing my homework? I already talked to Eliza."

"Oh God," Gerard muttered.

"She's crazy." Lindsey smiled. "I like her." She elbowed Gerard gently. "Come on, don't make me call him."

Gerard took a long drag off his cigarette and exhaled against the dark expanse of parking lot. "When we were together, every day was a party. It was just drinking, smoking, snorting, fucking, all the time. Bert was used to doing shit like that, and I was..." He waved his cigarette in a circle as if trying to physically illustrate his point. "I didn't know when to stop. I went too far and I hurt myself and I almost broke up my band. I had to quit."

"And Bert didn't want you to quit?"

Gerard shook his head. "He was worried about me. He was glad when I quit. He fucking..." Gerard sniffed. "When we were on Taste of Chaos, he bought me a cupcake every month to celebrate how many months I was clean." He took the last hit off his cigarette and dropped it on the concrete. "But things got weird between us. He said he was quitting too, but he was always drunk, and it was too soon. I couldn't handle being around that when I was still struggling, you know? And then...we always said it wasn't about the money, and it wasn't, and it's still not. I mean, I haven't bought a new pair of pants in a year."

"Everyone knows," Lindsey muttered.

"But it was like he was mad at me because we went on MTV and got magazine covers. Like he wanted me to turn down opportunities to headline so we could tour Europe in a little van together, get drunk behind the venue and fuck up against a dumpster, and that just wasn't me anymore." He took his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, looked at it, and then dropped it in his lap. "But I was a dick to him too. I came back from Japan a day early to go into rehab, and I totally forgot that we made plans to meet up." He paused and looked down into his lap. "I can't believe he's almost clean now. If he'd just done it three years ago, everything would've been different." He took a deep breath. "Maybe we just didn't love each other enough." He looked over at Lindsey. "Maybe the difference is that I love all of you."

Lindsey leaned over and kissed him. "You're so fucking stupid sometimes," she whispered against his lips.

"Um..." Gerard pulled his head back. "What?"

Lindsey swiped the pack of cigarettes off his lap and lit one. "I'm not clean, Gerard. I drink around you, and Jimmy and I get high outside your tour bus all the time."

"Yeah, but –"

"My band's less successful than yours," she continued. "Hell, we were touring Europe in a van just last summer. I know we're talking about opening for you again, but we're still in different places, and it could get awkward." She tossed the cigarettes back to Gerard, and the pack bounced off his chest. "I think twelve-step programs are bullshit, I think Batman sucks, and I don't think music alone can save someone's life." She leaned over the arm of her chair. "I'm just as bad as Bert McCracken. I'm probably worse. The difference isn't us, Gerard. The difference is you."

Gerard just stared at her.

"You're not the same person you were when you met Bert. You're not insecure. You're not awed by rock stars and jonesing for drama. You don't hide behind alcohol. You're not afraid to be yourself." She took a hit off her cigarette and exhaled at Gerard. "You don't need an enabler anymore. You don't need someone to hold your hair while you puke, no matter how much you love him." She smiled. "And it's okay if you still love him."

Gerard reached out and took both her hands in his. "I love you," he whispered. "But Batman doesn't suck; take that back."

Lindsey laughed and dropped her cigarette on the ground. "Let's go to sleep. We have to get up early." She kissed him and stood up.

****

Bert lies naked on the far side of the bed, his body shining with a thin sheen of sweat. Gerard lies on the other side, wrapped up almost completely in a sheet. They are silent for a long moment.

"It's just..." Gerard begins.

Bert looks over at him.

Gerard rolls onto his side so he can face Bert. "It's just that everyone's been on me lately, saying I drink too much, smoke too much, sleep too much. It makes me feel like shit."

Bert slides across the bed, pulling the fitted sheet off in the process. "It's just that they're worried about you. And they love you."

Gerard bites down on his lower lip a moment before replying. "And you too?"

Bert looks at him, his brow furrowed. "Yeah," he says. He puts one hand on Gerard's shoulder, and Gerard folds into his touch, closing his eyes and bowing his head against Bert's chest. "Yeah, you know I do," Bert says, his voice shaking slightly. "You have to know."

They lay pressed together for a few minutes. The sound of Bert's breathing is the loudest thing in the room.

"We get back the seventeenth," Gerard says, his voice muffled against Bert's body. "Newark airport. I'm not sure what time, but you could call Brian if –"

"I'll be there," Bert says.

"Thanks," Gerard whispers.

Bert runs his hand down Gerard's side. "Do you need a ride today? 'Cause I –"

There's a loud click as the camera turns off, and the screen goes black.

****

Gerard walked into Bert's bedroom and tossed the DVD case onto the bed in front of him. Bert looked up from the magazine he was reading, his face expressionless, seemingly not surprised that Gerard is in his house at five in the morning.

"It's yours," Gerard said. "We made the tape for you. You should have it." He waved at it dismissively. "Sell it, put it on YouTube, I don't give a shit." He sniffed and rubbed his nose with the heel of his hand.

Bert looked down at the DVD, then picked it up and held it out.

Gerard took a step back. "No," he said, his voice shaking. "I mean it. It's for you. It –"

"It's not the sex tape." Bert stood up and held the DVD out again. "I destroyed that a long time ago. I never even watched it."

Gerard reluctantly took the DVD from him and stared at it a moment before looking back up at him. "But why did you tell Frank you were gonna release it?"

Bert rolled his eyes. "I didn't tell Frank anything. I told Jeph, but it was a joke. I didn't think he'd call you."

Gerard turned the DVD over in his hands. "Then what's this?"

Bert smirked. "Ultimate Chicks with Dicks 7."

"That one's my favorite," Gerard said softly.

Bert's smile widened. "I know."

Gerard could feel his face flush as he returned the smile. He looked off to the side to avoid Bert's intense gaze, and he noticed for the first time that there were clean clothes hanging in the open closet. There was a framed Alex Pardee painting on the far wall. And there was a framed photo on the nightstand of Bert, Alison, and Gordon all holding each other on a beach. In the sunlight Bert's eyes glowed bluer than the ocean.

Suddenly Gerard needed to hug Bert more than anything else. He needed to hug him and point out all the wonderful things he had in his life, hug him and apologize for accidentally breaking his heart, hug him and tell him he thought their new album was fucking brilliant. Hug him and say he's sorry he couldn't give Bert the life he deserved, but he's so incredibly happy Bert got it somewhere else.

Gerard took a step closer to Bert.

Bert took a step back.

"Um..." Bert said. "If you don't leave soon, I'm either gonna stab you in the throat or fuck you in the ass." He forced a small smile. "Either way I'll get in trouble with Alison."

"Right." Gerard took a step back. "I'll..."

"Yeah," Bert said.

Gerard walked to the bedroom door and opened it, but turned around once he was standing just outside the room.

"So, um..." Gerard said. His gaze flickered to the ground, but he forced himself to look up into Bert's eyes. "At the end of the world, I'd really like to drink myself to death with you."

Bert smiled. "I'll be there."

"Thanks." Gerard said, so softly he wasn't sure Bert had heard him. He walked down the hall, through the living room where Alison was asleep on the couch with a book on her chest, and out the front door to where his rental car was parked half on the curb. Though the horizon was still dark, Gerard felt warm, like he could smell daylight, feel dawn expanding in his chest.