Gerard shot through the door and slammed it behind him, breaking down in sobs as soon as he slid to the floor. Nothing made sense, his feelings didn't match up with what he knew was right and anything he did was hurting someone, somewhere. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about what would be different if Frank had actually killed himself that night. He scared himself by thinking that he probably would have killed himself as soon as he found out. What would it feel like to die; would he be able to feel it if Frank died? Would something inside of him click or twinge, would he feel Frank's pain?
It would hurt to die, he decided, but it would hurt even more to feel Frank die. He had stopped crying, but thinking about that was getting him worked up again and he stopped thinking for a moment to breathe. He turned everything off. He didn't think or open his eyes, he didn't listen to the sounds, nothing. After a while, he fell asleep. He dreamt that he walked into Frank's house to find it empty with Frank hanging in the middle of the room. Underneath him was the note and his razor, and blood was dripping from both his wrists. He woke up sweating and realized he was on his couch. He looked up to see Frank looking down at him, his eyes red from crying.