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It had been four months since the shooting. Physically, Gerard was healed. He still had a long way to go emotionally, but he liked to think he was making great strides. He went to therapy, and he took his medication. A month ago, he was still fighting against recovery.
Overall, Gerard would say he had more good days than bad. This is why, when he heard a car backfire while out with Ray, he was surprised that his heart started beating wildly. He remembered to take his medication in the morning. He'd had no nightmares the previous night. Why was a sound suddenly making him anxious?
He looked over at Ray, who was kind of pale, too. Sometimes, Gerard forgot Ray went through the same shitty situation. That only made him feel like the world's shittiest boyfriend. which, in turn, made his heart pound even harder.
Ray looked antsy for a minute, like he wanted to go home, and then he took a few deep breaths. He reminded himself that he was safe. That Gerard was safe. It had just been a car backfiring, after all.
He glanced at Gerard, who was still pale and shaking. Gerard seemed to be trying to regulate his breathing. He was muttering to himself, but whatever he was saying wasn't helping.
"You're safe here. It was a car backfiring, I promise." Ray wanted to touch him, but he knew Gerard didn't always like to be touched when he was anxious.
Gerard stumbled back against a tree outside the restaurant they'd been about to enter. He thought that maybe, if he could just sit down for a few minutes, he might be able to breathe.
He tried to remember what his therapist told him. Something about taking deep breaths, he thought. He didn't know how he was supposed to do that when his throat was closing up. A voice next to him reminded him he wasn't alone.
"What can I do to help you right now?" Ray dropped to his knees in the grass, ignoring the slight twinge of pain upon doing so.
Gerard shook his head weakly; he didn't know what Ray could do to help. He didn't know that anything could help right now.
"Y-You can't....h-help me." He wheezed. A wave of dizziness washed over him; he gagged and retched into his lap.
Ray started talking again. Gerard strained his ears, trying his best to listen. He wanted the anxiety to go away.
"Okay, okay. Can you grab my hand," Ray said, internally sighing in relief when Gerard shakily grabbed his hand, "Squeeze it. Hard as you can so you know I'm here with you."
Gerard held onto Ray's hand and squeezed for dear life. He tried again to take a deep breath but found he still couldn't. He managed a ragged inhale. Ray figured it was better than the wheezing. Or at least it showed Gerard was more aware.
Ray began humming softly, watching as Gerard's eyes lit up upon recognizing the song. He continued humming while Gerard squeezed his hand and finally managed to take a couple of deep breaths.
"I—thank you, Ray." Gerard had been about to apologize but remembered his therapist telling him he didn't need to apologize for his anxiety. That it wasn't something to be ashamed of.
"You don't ever have to thank me for this, but I know you still will, so you're welcome." Ray murmured, his lips grazing Gerard's ear.
Gerard leaned his head on Ray's shoulder and asked to go home. He felt a little guilty cutting their date short, but he was honestly still a little overwhelmed. He'd much rather order takeout and watch a movie on the couch.
"We can do that, Gee." Ray said. They got back in the car and went home, where Ray immediately ordered a pizza.
In the end, as they sat on the couch with their pizza and some coke zeros, Ray found that he was glad to just be at home, with Gerard safe in his arms.