He doesn't know what to do. God, Michael has always trusted him and now...he's killed him. He's killed his baby brother and engaged in shameful carnality with him. He doesn't want Michael to die, Michael can't die, but he just doesn't know, he doesn't--
Blood. The answer is so obvious in Gerard's mind he wonders that it took so long to occur to him. Michael needs blood. Gerard stole it from him, but he can give it back. He doesn't pause for a moment before lifting his hand and clawing at the side of his own neck--the flesh gives under his hand and he somehow knows it will be fine. He rolls a little off of Michael, then gathers him up in his arms, pulling him flush on top of him, and using a hand to cradle Michael's head, guiding it down to the place where the blood is flowing from his own throat. "Drink, Mikey. Please. I need you."
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Date: 2008-02-29 07:01 am (UTC)Blood. The answer is so obvious in Gerard's mind he wonders that it took so long to occur to him. Michael needs blood. Gerard stole it from him, but he can give it back. He doesn't pause for a moment before lifting his hand and clawing at the side of his own neck--the flesh gives under his hand and he somehow knows it will be fine. He rolls a little off of Michael, then gathers him up in his arms, pulling him flush on top of him, and using a hand to cradle Michael's head, guiding it down to the place where the blood is flowing from his own throat. "Drink, Mikey. Please. I need you."