I Am the Way... | By : mychemicalresurrection Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 1369 -:- 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. |
Disclaimer: I don't know Gerard Way or any other members of My Chemical Romance. The following story is completely fictitious and not meant to hurt or make anyone infamous. It is just for my own artistic expression and inspiration. Please don't take anything literally.
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~Save Me!~
“Mikey! I’m fine! We don’t have to cancel tomorrow’s concert. It was just an accident!” I yelled at my younger brother as he tried to console me. I was still dressed in only my underwear and a hospital gown, my hand bandaged up so that it looked like I was wearing white cotton mittens.
“Just an accident, Gerard? Who the fuck accidentally punches in a mirror and laughs maniacally while his knuckles are bleeding all over a shower stall?” my brother shot back, throwing some of my clothes out of a duffel bag onto the hospital bed. He was just as frustrated with the whole situation as I was. “The doctors want to keep you overnight to make sure you’re not a danger to yourself. I don’t blame them, either…” He rounded the bed and stood staring me in the eye. “You said you heard voices and saw the Patient go into your body… you said that he’s invading your body and is the one that made you sick this morning…that’s not normal.”
I stared down my brother with dark, brooding eyes. He couldn’t understand could he? He hadn’t seen it, had he? I shook my head and threw my battered hands into the air. “I was still drunk and in pain, for all I know I could’ve said I was a little girl with blonde pigtails and a teddy bear! I’m fine now.”
Mikey shook his head, a serious tone lilting from his thin lips as he said, “You’re staying tonight, Gerard…”
“You’re not my fuckin’ mom,” I said, throwing off the hospital gown and hurriedly pulling on a pair of black pants. “Tell the doctors that I’m leaving… tell them that I don’t care if it’s against medical advice, I have a job that I’m paid to do and I will not let down our fans…” I tugged the black t-shirt and hooded sweatshirt over my head.
“Fine, do what you want. Next time you almost choke on your own vomit I’m leaving you to die…”
A pang of guilt shot up my spine as I spun to retort, but he was already stomping out of the room. He didn’t believe I had recovered from being an alcoholic so long ago. Neither did I. Who was to say I hadn’t seen my own distorted, drunken reflection in the mirror five or six hours ago? I was definitely sober now. I sighed and raked a bandaged hand through my short hair, sitting heavily on the bed. I winced as I felt the stitches tighten and pull under the wadding.
“Ah!” I grunted, pulling my hands back and settling them into my lap. How had I let it come to this again? Drinking and bleeding? Finding myself without a clue? I hung my head in shame and sighed. Maybe Mikey was right, maybe I was a danger to myself.
A deep chuckle started inside of me, one I didn’t recognize myself, “Hurts so good, doesn’t it? I haven’t felt good pain in so long…” The voice wasn’t as raspy, but I now recognized it as that of the Patient. “… your body is so wonderfully vulnerable Gerard, do you know that?”
“What are you doing to me?” I growled in a low voice.
“Possessing you… one of the finer points of being dead…” the voice was my own, but huskier and darker. “… your brother’s body isn’t bad either. Have you ever considered incest, Mr. Way?”
“You sick fuck-“ I started, but the door opened again and Mikey leaned against the door frame. His body was definitely slimmer and more feminine than mine, longer and with better lines than mine. It was no wonder millions of our fans preferred him to me. He had that certain appeal I just didn’t seem to possess.
“Doc says you can leave, but it will say on your record that you left against his advice,” he drawled, the fury still evident in his voice. He didn’t want me to leave, but that didn’t stop me from sliding on my boots and tying them on. I knew there would be paparazzi everywhere waiting for me to appear. I slid on a pair of sunglasses and pulled the hoody up over my head to make it less obvious. “Ashamed, are you?” Mikey asked, turning to leave.
I walked quickly to keep up with him, stuffing my hands into the pockets on the black hooded sweatshirt so that the paparazzi didn’t get shots of them. I hoped they would be less swollen and sore tomorrow so that I could wear my gloves on stage. As we walked, I noticed for once the slight sway of Mikey’s hips as he walked. I shook my head.
“Stop it, Patient,” I muttered to myself in a whisper. “Stop it now!”
The voice was in my head now, the same gravelly, hollow one I had heard in the alleyway in my dreams last night. It chuckled vilely as it said, “Make him less beautiful, Gerard… make yourself better… take him and tear him apart in your glory… do it, Gerard.”
I shook my head as we entered the parking lot, the bodyguards around me and Mikey, pushing everyone out of our way so we could get back to the tour bus. “Gerard, are you suicidal?” “Are you hearing voices?” “Are you on illegal drugs, Gerard?” “Mikey, are you worried about your brother?” A slew of questions was hurled at the two of us as pictures were snapped left and right. The body guards called back that we wouldn’t be answering any questions. For once I was glad the paparazzi drowned out the husky voice in my head.
As we neared the bus, I started feeling light-headed and heard the low laugh of the Patient taking over in the back of my mind. I struggled so hard not to let him have control of me, but he seemed so strong. I saw my hands reach out and grab my brother, spinning him around.
“What the-“
His words were broken off as my hood fell back and I planted a hard kiss on his lips, my arms wrapping around him. I was stronger than he was, so he struggled a moment before he could push out of my arms. I looked around shocked as the paparazzi snapped picture after picture of what had happened. I started hyperventilating as I ran up the stairs of the tour bus after my completely confused brother.
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