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Dead Like Me	By : poe Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 4827 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of My Chemical Romance. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
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Things went back to normal. Not "normal" normal, but as normal as they could be after the blow up we had. It had been days, then weeks, and slowly months since I had talked to Gerard. I had nothing to say anymore. Everything I had to say had been said a thousand times over before he made his little "revelation" to me. And God, it was killing me. He was my best friend. I loved him, I had loved him for a long time. And then it all cumlinates with him finally telling me that the last seven years of my life haven't been in vain. Except they have. If I have loved him, and he knew it the whole time, knew it and knew that he cared about me too, knew it and never changed, never acted on it, never told me, then where does that leave me? No further than I had ever gotten with him. I was back in the schoolyard, eating lunch with Kat and Ryan, who are married now, by the way, standing dumbly as Gerard asks me if I have a light. Like he was asking me who the hell I was to even think that he would want to be friends with me, how I could ever even imagine being around him. I was that stupid, juvenile, naive 16-year-old that I was the first time we met. It seemed that that's who I would always be with him.
I was angry. I couldn't pretend I wasn't. He had hurt me more with that unbidden, hesitant revelation of emotion than he ever had by ignoring me. The idea the he really felt the way he said he did was unthinkable. When you really care about someone, you don't play with their emotions, just to see what happens. You don't lie to them. You don't let them hurt. But he didn't just let me hurt, he fucking caused it.
But what did I want from him? I heard him in the hall every day as he walked to his room. I don't think he wanted me to notice, be he often stopped at my door. I could picture his breathing, his hand moving to the door, and then pausing, trying to decide if he should do it. Then his hand lowering, and his head shaking as he walks onward to his room. I pictured it because I hoped he did too. I stood outside his room every night, as I passed by on the way to the bathroom. I would stand for a few minutes, wanting nothing more than to push open his door and kiss his face and tell him that I was sorry, so sorry, for making him wait. I didn't even know if he was waiting. Waiting was a very un-Gerard-like thing to do.
I hope he was. I guess I still had some faith in him. I wanted him to be good. I wanted him to be kind. I wanted him to want me back, for real. I was trying to make him earn it, hoping against all hopes that he would finally step up. That if I pushed him hard enough, he would finally push back.
So I found myself outside his door, once again. I should have been finishing my packing, but as I was filling boxes with three, almost four years worth of collected junk, I came across something that I had almost forgotten about. It was a flask, with my initials engraved inside a heart on one side, and a skull in a heart on the other side. The flask that Gerard had given me on my birthday that year that I walked in on him fucking a guy in my room. I felt tears sting my eyes, but I forced them back. And right then I decided that I couldn't keep doing this.
My hand was shaking in response to the sheer will I was exerting over my heart to get me into this position. My heart said no. I knew it wasn't capable of enduring another Gerard-induced attack. So it came down to this: me trembling outside his door, lip in teeth, hands in fists, determined to finish this. To ensure that one way or the other, I was done.
I knocked gently, hoping that the action of touching my fist to something solid and warm would in turn lend me some strength. I felt cold and hot and naseous, my brain a jumble of self-defeating mantras.
This is stupid, Frank.
Why are you doing this to yourself?
Just walk away now, and save yourself from this, from him.
This is it, you know. There's no going back this time.
This time it's over. One way or another it's over and these things never turn out right...

And then the door was open. Not wide, but wide enough to see his looming, black-clad form fill the space between the door and the door jam. As he looked at me, his eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly, and then lowered, still a master of indifference. He did look a bit uncertain though. That gave me hope.
"Frank." His tone was quiet and plain. "Did you forget something? Or have you come to make me feel like even more of an asshole?" His tone had picked up a bit of bite, and I could hear the diluted venom that still lingered there. He was angry with me too.
"Actually Gerard, I did forget something. I forgot to talk to you." He opened his door wider and walke to his desk, sitting down in his chair, motioning for me to follow suite.
"No thanks. I think it's better if I stand. It makes me feel more confindent."
"Suit yourself." His body language, tone, words, were chosen to be indifferent. But for once, I realized that for all of Gerard's bravado and machismo in the face of difficult and emotional situations, he was really just scared shitless. Feelings of any kind scared him because of their power. He didn't want to lose control. And I was willing to put any amount of money on the fact that he had probably been severely heartbroken, crippled even, by someone else. So scarred that it had made him unable to enter into a normal emotional relationship. I knew it had to be the case. Mikey had always told me that Gerard never used to be like this. He never was so cold and lifeless when he was younger. That was the only explanation that I could see. And it was like a light, illuminating all of the things about him that I had thought didn't exist. He wasn't unfeeling, invincible, heartless Gerard anymore. In that simple charade of not caring what I had to say, he had shown me that, in fact, he did.
So I just went right for it.
"Okay, Gerard. I loved you. Okay? I don't know if you can understand what I mean, or how much I mean it, but if I'm going to be honest with myself, and you, I do love you. Still. Now." I watched his posture become more attentive, as he sat up a little straighter, looking a little more interested in what I had to say.
"I have loved you for seven years. Unfailing. I watched boy after boy after boy walk through our house. You'd cling to me for a while and then push me away like an old toy, like I didn't mean anything to you. You fucked someone else in my bed, on my birthday Gerard! And I knew. I knew from the moment I met you that you were the best and worst thing that I would ever have. Or never have, I guess is more appropriate. But that never stopped me from loving you." Here's where the tears started to pool. They were there, the whole way from my room, to his door, just waiting to pour down my face. And they waited. Waited for rejection, or acceptance. Waited to be shed into my pillow tonight, or in front of him, here now.
I continued. "I knew you were never capable of it. You weren't able to reciprocate the feelings that I had for you. And I accepted that, Gerard. I was resigned to the fact that I loved someone who was utterly and completely incabable of a shred of human emotion, someone who would never, ever tell me that he loved me back." I inhaled deeply. "So you can't just come out all of a sudden and tell me that you care about me. You can't dare say that you hold the same feelings in the same way I have for the last seven years, and then just leave me high and dry. If you ever want me to believe another word you say, Gerard, please, back it up."
I moved towards him, hands at my sides, tears now flowing freely, flooding my face with a wave of saltwater. When my voice came, it was barely more than a pleading whisper. "Gerard, I want to believe you. Please, prove it to me. I need you to prove it to me."
He hadn't said a word the whole time, and I stood, soul bare, naked exposed. Never in my life had I ever been so completely and utterly vulnerable. And he just sat there with that damn indifferent/scared look in his eyes, not saying a word. He didn't stand up. He didn't hug me, or hold me, or kiss me. He didn't cry or beg for my forgiveness.
"Frank, I don't know what you want me to say."
I choked back a sob. "Anything! For fuck's sake Gerard, just say anything! Tell me that you love me or hate me, or don't give a fuck about me, or you do! Just don't be so fucking indifferent! Have some fucking human emotion!" The tears spilled down my cheeks, and I could feel that the neck of my t-shirt was soaked through. I hadn't wanted to cry in front of him, but I couldn't help it. I was hoping maybe they would strike a chord somewhere in him, awaken some shred of feeling.
He just nodded, and stared at me with those big green eyes. They were red. They looked tired. But he didn't cry. He didn't spill his tears like I had. "Frank, I'm sorry. I can't be who you want me to be. I wish that I could. I wish I could be good for you. But in truth, the only thing I will do is kill you. And then you'll just end up being dead like me. And I used to think that's what I wanted. If I could corrupt you, then I didn't feel so bad being me. I wanted you to be just like me. But now, you're too good, and kind and sweet and pure. I can't be with you. I'll wreck you, Frank. And I don't want you to be just one more thing I fuck up. You are more than that."
"Don't give me that Gerard! That's just a fucking excuse! I don't want your excuses!" I was screaming now, my voice shrill and piercing. I couldn't deal with him, with this. If he didn't just tell me, I swear to God....
"No, Frank. Don't you get it? It's not an excuse. It's the truth. I can't be with you. I can't do that to you." His voice was calm, collected, emotionless. I hated that.
"Don't! Don't do that! Either you want me, or you don't! So which one is it, Gerard? Do you or don't you?" My voice sounded so juvenile and whiny. I hated that I sounded so needy. Why couldn't I be like him? Why couldn't I be as emotionless as he is?
"That's how you want this to end Frankie?" Stone cold.
"Yes. It ends. Here. Now. Tell me Gerard. Yes or no."
He didn't answer for a long moment, and I swore that my heart was going to explode if he didn't say something soon. My face was wet, and red and tear-streaked, and I had to breathe through my nose. But this was it.
"No."
I stood still for a moment. And then I nodded, and turned towards the door. No time for crying now. I'm done.
With one word he had ended my life.
**********
He moved out.
The day after I told him that I couldn't be with him he was gone to an apartment in the city. He exchanged hugs and knowing glances with Mikey, giving him his new phone number and address, telling Mikey to come see him soon. And then he was gone. Just gone.
I sat in his room for a long time. I could see the marks on the carpet where his bed had been. I remembered how it felt, how he felt. I could picture his dresser, his desk, his pile of dirty clothes. It still smelled like him. It still looked like him.
His address sat on Mikey's desk. I knew it was there. I knew because I had snooped one day and found it. I wanted to know where he was going. And when Mikey talked to him, I always asked how he was. I wanted to know how he was doing. I wanted to know if he had gotten over me. I asked Mikey not to mention me to him. It's easier to get over someone if they don't know you ask about them. And he had to get over me. He had to believe what I told him. If he believed it, then maybe I could too.
**********
I went to bed crying again. It didn't seem to matter how long it had been since I left the house, he haunted me. I'd see him in my dreams, in my posssessions, in my reflection. And I even heard him. Such was the case when I woke up to what I thought was Gerard saying my name. "Frankie." the voice said. It sounded so much like him. It even had the lilt at the end, like a question. God I missed him. And I hated him. How could he do that to me? How could he think that he was killing me by loving me, when he was really killing me by not being with me? I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill him, just so he could know how it felt. Just so he could know what it really felt like to be dead. He thought he was the dead one. Well, he should see me.
I squeezed my eyes against the pillow, letting the tears ooze out of the corners. I was so sick of crying myself to sleep every night. I was so tired of being alone.
"Frankie?" The voice was louder now. And I could have sworn it was coming from outside.
I got up and walked over to the open window in my bedroom, pulling back the curtains to look onto the street below. And there, standing under my window, was the specter that haunted me since I had moved out. He was just standing there, like a ghost or a demon, calling out my name. Why was he here? What was he trying to do to me now?
"Gerard, why are you here? I don't think we have any more to say to each other." I was already on the verge of tears, and he hadn't even said anything. I couldn't bear it. If he did what I thought he was going to do, I might as well just hurl myself out the window.
"Frank, please! Just let me talk! I know I don't deserve another chance, but you don't have to let me in. Just let me talk to you. I'll stay down here. I just need to tell you something."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. "Alright then. Get on with it."
"Okay!" He looked scared and excited and nervous all at the same time. What was going on.
"Frank, I know that I told you a lot of things. But most of those things weren't true. And I know that doesn't exactly make for a very strong case, but if you can't believe anything I've ever told you, you have to believe this. I don't hate you. I don't want you to be here. The truth is....." he stumbled a bit before continuing. "The truth is that I've never really loved anyone. And I've always pushed everyone away before they could love me. I figure that way I can't hurt anyone and they can't hurt me. But I was wrong, Frank. I never realized that I could hurt someone so much without even trying. So much that I killed them. And I know it's killing you, because it's killing me too. And that's really something, because I thought that I was dead. I thought that I was so low....but this.....hurting you......knowing that I had the chance to change, to be with you, and I blew just it again and again......that is dead. This is dead, Frank. I am dead."I had never ever heard Gerard speak like that. His voice was warm, alive. I could hear the tears in his voice, I could hear the feeling behind his words. For once in his life, Gerard actually meant what he was saying. Did that mean.....?
He paused, making sure that I was looking at him. I could see the tears on his cheeks, and his words hit me right square in the chest. It was everything that I had ever wanted....but.....
"So I know what you're thinking. And you're right. You have no reason to trust me. After all I've done to you, I wouldn't blame you if you told me to fuck off and never bother you again. I deserve it. All I'm asking for is a chance. I promise you Frank, I don't ever want to hurt you again. So I am just going to stand here until you forgive me."
I walked away from the window, and sat on my bed. It was all so much. Dare I go down there? Should I even attempt to reconcile what my heart was already working on. I know in my head, my brain was screaming for me to close the window and go back to sleep. But my heart. Oh my heart. All I have ever wanted was him. And I knew he wasn't perfect. But if he was willing to try.....well, that was a start. And that was good enough for me.
I flew down the stairs, hoping to catch him before he thought that I was blowing him off. I saw him, still standing under my window. I laughed through my fresh tears, knowing that if he said that he was going to stay there, he was going to stay there. He turned as I opened the door and a small smile enveloped his features.
"Frank?" His voice was thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. Even if you don't ever want to talk to me again, please just tell me that you forgive me. I just need to know that you forgive me."
I nodded. And walked towards him. "Yes, I forgive you Gerard. I forgive you."
I pulled him towards me, our lips meeting in the space between our bodies. He was warm, and his mouth tasted like saltwater, and it was a good few seconds before he started kissing me back. It was slow. Gentle. It was something that I never thought I would get from Gerard.
As we pulled away I saw a genuine, almost innoccent smile on his face. It stretched from ear to ear, showing off every single one of his baby-sized teeth. I giggled, I couldn't help myself, and I pulled him into another kiss.
He pushed me away after a minute. "Frank, we have to fix this, I have to fix this. I needed you to know. And I have no excuse for the way I acted. But you're good. You're warm and safe and alive. I want to be like that. I want to be good. I want to be good for you. I want to hug you. I want to hold you. I want to be your boyfriend. You make me want to be like that." He was serious now, the earnest sincerity in his words echoed in his beautiful green eyes.
"Gerard, I want you to be like that too. But don't change too much. I do love you just the way you are." I laced my fingers through his, and pulled him towards the door. "But I do sort of lean towards the new improved Gerard."
We made our way up the stairs, and he followed me into my apartment. He stood in the middle of it, just looking at everything.
"I missed this. I missed you, when you moved out. Do you know I sat in your room for days after?"
I couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of Gerard pining after me. "Really?"
He nodded. "It was then that I realized how stupid I'd been. I just couldn't believe that you'd still loved me, after all I did to you, to push you away. You always came back. I guess that intruiged me."
"Well, you are something of a mystery yourself, Mr. Gerard Way. And I have to tell you, I never imagined that you would do something like this. Not in a million years could I have pictured you pouring your heart out to me underneath my bedroom window."
"Well, a guy's got to do what a guy's got to do. And I don't care who heard me. Everyone should know."
"You are weird, do you know that?" I laughed as he pulled me closer to him. A guy could get used to this, being in his arms all the time.
"Well, what does that say about you? You're the one who loves me."
"Yeah, I am. And what does that say about you?"
He held me out at arms length, and looked me up and down. "That I am in love with the luckiest guy in the world."
I shook my head, and pulled his lips to mine, opting for a kiss instead of a retort. I had enough of arguments and bickering and disagreements. I wanted harmony. I wanted peace. I wanted Gerard laying down so we could seal our newly made promises. I pulled on his shirt, beckoning him towards my bedroom.
"Well, Mr. Iero! Aren't we the forward one?"
"Ha! Like you knew that this wasn't going to end up in my room! I bet that was your plan all along! You just said all that stuff to get me to sleep with you! I resent that!"
Gerard laughed, the deep chuckle that I hadn't heard in so long.
"Well, I'd be doing you a favour then, because I happen to be an exceptionally good fuck."
I rolled my eyes, and pulled him onto the bed.
Somethings never change.
~The End~
:)

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Dead Like Me