Bert didn't say anything when he went downstairs the following morning and found Gerard and Frank asleep together on the couch, but he couldn't deny that it broke his heart a little bit.

Nevertheless, he headed into the kitchen and sat on the counter, heaving a sigh while twiddling his thumbs. Things were never simple, not before the zombies, not after. Not where Gerard Way was concerned. And he really had missed Gerard, with everything he had.

He hadn't wanted to leave - no, really. He would've given anything to be able to stay and protect Gerard. Gerard was someone that needed protecting, someone that needed someone there to hold him when the nightmares came. He wondered if Frank knew about the nightmares. He wondered if Frank was as good as protecting Gerard as he was.

He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, feeling tears rise. He cried a lot these days. He never cried before the apocalypse, not really. He hadn't been happy, but it wasn't as if he had any reason to cry.

But his body shook with sobs as he wept into his hands, trying to be quiet so as to not alert the others. It wasn't as if he could shut the door, either - there was no door. So he muffled his cries with his hands and hid behind his hair, which was way too long for his liking, but it wasn't as if there was a hairdressers just around the corner.

He didn't know why he was crying, either. Maybe he just needed to shed a few tears.

Half an hour passed, and nobody else in the house was up, and he was still crying. Maybe this cry was long overdue. It would seem that way.

And then he heard footsteps, and he raised his head, wiping his eyes hurriedly as Frank came in. He paid no mind to the crying adult, heading over to the sink and turning on the cold tap. Bert watched as he cupped his hands and held them under the steady stream of cold water, before lifting it to his mouth.

Frank caught the elder watching him, and his eye widened, water spilling from his hands and onto the counter, splashing him slightly. He swore, and Bert let out a watery giggle, sniffing as he did so. He wiped his hands on his jeans and smiled over at Bert, but his smile slowly faded when he saw the bloodshot eyes, the flushed skin.

"What's wrong?" He asked, and Bert scoffed, refusing to believe that the kid actually cared about him. Or wanted to know what was wrong for any other reason than to laugh at him.

"Nothing." He replied, wiping his nose. There was snot all over his hand now, and it wasn't as if he had any tissues on him, so he did the gross thing and smudged it on his trousers. Although there was worse on there, there was no doubt about that. "I'm fine."

Frank's eyebrow rose. "That's a shit lie if ever I heard one."

Bert simply shrugged. "I just needed a cry. Is that a crime?"

"No, no..." He hopped up onto the counter beside him, swinging his short legs. "I cried yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday. I don't remember what day it is anymore."

"No, me neither." Bert admitted, biting down on his lower lip and gazing down at his lap.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Bert felt the tears rise yet again, though they'd never really stopped. He put his head in his hands and let them fall, and Frank said nothing, just sat there and listened as the elder wept quietly beside him.

It was heartbreaking, in a way. He dreaded to think that anyone had heard him crying, if this was how it felt. He didn't even know the guy, he'd had some sort of jealousy-filled grudge against him from the moment they'd met, but hearing someone cry just...he didn't like it. Not at all.

And Gerard was somehow still asleep by the time Bert had finished, and for that he was grateful. He'd hate to see Gerard's face if he caught him crying.

"Morning, Gee." He walked into what they called the living room just as the most beautiful man in the world (to him, anyway) woke up.

Gerard rubbed his eyes and sat up, his hair a tangled mess and his shirt crumpled. He mumbled something in return, looking around, though Bert didn't quite know what he was looking for. Maybe Frank. Probably Frank.

And yes, there was that smile on his face, but it wasn't for him, not anymore; Gerard smiled for Frank these days, and as the teenager sat down beside him, Bert went upstairs, contemplating whether shooting himself in the head would be a good idea or not. If he knew Gee, which he did, he'd still have his gun, with a single bullet in it. And if Gerard was still alive, which he was, then he hadn't fired the gun since Bert had left.

It would be so easy to take the gun and use it. But he couldn't. He'd just returned; even if Gerard didn't want him around anymore, he couldn't leave again.

~

Bert had a car.

He wasn't going to tell them, but the just-about-to-kiss-him look he got from Gerard made it worth it. There was no gas, but Gerard immediately volunteered to go and find some. Bert agreed to join him, because he knew that there was a gas station about twenty miles down the road that might just have gas.

He could feel Frank's eye on him as he left the house with Gerard, and it wasn't until they were out of eyeshot of the house that he took the younger's hand, ignoring the narrowed eyes sent his way. He linked their fingers together, hitching his backpack higher on his back with his free hand and staring straight ahead.

And Gerard didn't take his hand away, because he kind of liked the comfort, even if it was Bert. But he was used to Bert, who reminded him of home and Before The Apocalypse, and Bert had been there when nobody else was. They'd held hands before; what was so different now?

"I'm sorry." He said after a while, and Bert stopped.

"What?"

Gerard scuffed his shoes against the sidewalk, letting go of the elder's hand and clasping them behind his back. "I'm sorry for slapping you. And I'm sorry for being a stroppy bitch. And...and I'm sorry for, y'know..." He trailed off as Bert tilted his chin up, making their eyes meet and their heartbeats stutter.

He stood there, helpless, as Bert cupped his face with both hands and leaned in, kissing him softly. It wasn't as if he minded, he was just stunned, because everything was so fucked right now and he didn't know what the fuck to think. He allowed his eyes to flutter closed and he sank against Bert as they kissed, Gerard's hands on Bert's waist and Bert's hands on Gerard's face.

And Bert felt like all his Christmases had come at once, because even though Gerard's mouth wasn't alien to him, he hadn't felt it in so long, and he'd missed it. He'd missed it just as much as the man himself.

They hadn't walked far, maybe two miles at most, and they weren't going to get to the gas station before dusk, no way. Bert didn't know where they'd stay or what they'd do or whether they'd walk through the night or not, but for now he was just content with kissing the man he was so unfortunately in love with, leaving him breathless as he pulled away.

"I - I - I -" Gerard stammered, deciding to shut up once he realised that he wasn't going to get anything out. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising." Bert replied, brushing the younger's hair from his face. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay. Everything is gonna be fine, I promise."

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