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Can You Stake My Heart	By : poe Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 2756 -:- 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
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I do not know, own or have any affiliation with anyone in mcr.
"Mom," she called into the stifling darkness. She could see the wispy form, weaving in and out of the seamless void that engulfed her. Tears burned in her eyes, begging for release, her throat clenching and relaxing around the enormous lump that had formed. She called out again.
"Mom, wait!" She tried to run after her, but no matter how fast her pace, it was never fast enough to catch up to the elusive form. She reached into the blackness, grasping at air, trying to grab at the dress, the hair, anything solid, anything to make this real, make this her mother, alive, really here. Tap, tap, tap...
She stretched her arms out further, tears finally escaping from their prison, as the ghostly form disappeared from her sight. Tap, tap, tap...
"No! No! Mom!" She cried, her voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper. "No!" She fell to the....ground? curling her palms into fists and clutching them to her abdomen, sobbing. Tap, tap, tap...
She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder, and lifted her head. She tried to make out the figure, but her eyes were fogged from tears. She furiously wiped at them, trying to clear her eyes, trying to see who it was before her....
Tap, tap, tap...
"Who ARE you?!" she yelled into the darkness.
Wake up.
She felt like she was falling, suddenly locking rigid as her body was jolted back into awareness. She tried to clear her mind from the haze of sleep that still surrounded her, rubbing her eyes, and stretching her limbs. Tap, tap, tap...
And insistent knocking greeted her ears. "What? Who would be here?" She grabbed her robe, and wrapped it around herself as she walked through her apartment to the front door. She looked through the peephole, and inhaled sharply, almost screaming at who she saw there.
"Versailles?" came his voice through the door, calm and deep. "Are you there? I can hear you!"
She gasped, pushing her back up against the wall opposite the door. It can't be.....he's a figment of my imagination.......and he doesn't he know where I live.....
"Come on, Versailles, please open up!"
She couldn't just sit there and ignore him. She knew she had to let him in. She had to know how the fuck he had found her.
She unlocked the deadbolt, opening the door a crack. She peered through, cautiously trying to make sure that it was him.
"Gerard?" She asked, almost praying that this was a mistake. Almost.
"Yes, it's me. Sorry to bother you so early. May I come in?" He was already half in the door by the time she nodded.
"Um, make yourself....comfortable. Sit down.....would you like a drink?"
"I'd love one," he said smiling, as he sat down at the kitchen table. "Coffee, if you have it."
Oh. My. God. My imaginary friend is sitting at the kitchen table. The book! I have to write this down!
"Sure." She poured coffee into two mugs, and grabbed her notebook out of her purse before moving to join him at the table. "Sorry my place is such a mess....I wasn't really expecting company...."She handed him a mug and sat down opposite him.
"Oh, don't worry. I didn't mean to barge in like that, but I was in the neighbourhood."
Right.
"Yeah, about that," she started taking a sip from her coffee and opening her notebook. "Um....how did you know where I live, exactly?"
He didn't seem caught off guard at all. In fact, he looked like he had been waiting for her to ask.
"Well, actually, I asked the manager at the coffee shop if he knew you. He said your last name was Lacroix. I looked it up in the phone book. And now, here I am."
She just stared at him. "But, why would he tell you that? You could be some serial killing psycho, or rapist.....That doesn't seem right. Why would he tell you my last name, especially because he has no idea who you are?" She had to admit it to herself. She was petrified at that moment.
"Well, first of all, I'm not a 'serial killing psycho', as you so eloquently phrased it. Or a rapist. If I was, I probably would have killed you, or raped you by now. Second, I asked him and he told me. I happen to be incredibly charming. When I choose to be." He took a sip of his coffee. "This is quite good. Thank you."
She stared at him, wide-eyed. She couldn't believe the lengths that she had gone to in her dillusions. She starting writing frantically in her notebook, trying to get down everything that he had just said.
He watched her for a moment, not speaking until she finished writing and looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.
"What are you writing in there?"
She didn't really want to tell him. But again, for some reason, she found herself unable to lie about it. She couldn't even simply say nothing.
"Um.....I'm writing what you're telling me. What we're talking about."
His eyes narrowed, brows furrowing together. "Why?"
She sighed, unable to be silent. "Because. You are a figment of my imagination, and I am trying to figure out why I am deluding myself into thinking you are real."
He looked at her for a few seconds, and then did something that she did not expect at all.
He burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" She asked, but it took a good, solid minute, before he stopped laughing, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"That joke. I'm not real! HA!" He cleared his throat. "Now, why are you really writing about me?"
She looked at him, a little annoyed that he didn't take her seriously. "That's the truth. I am writing about you because my therapist told me that you aren't real, and I need to confront the reasons why I call you up."
"What?! Your therapist? You go to a therapist?"
"Yes. He helped me after....."
"Oh, of course. I'm sure it helped to have someone to talk to....." he paused, taking another sip from his mug. "But Versailles, I'm not a figment of your imagination. I'm real. I am really here right now. As real as this mug of coffee, or this table, or....you."
She shook her head in disbelief. "No, you can't be! Real people do not disappear in the middle of deserted streets! Nor do they magically show up at people's houses without knowing where they live! You are to weird to NOT be imaginary!"
He put his fingers to his lips, pursing them in thought. Suddenly he looked at her, a smile on his face. "I know. I can prove I'm not a figment of your imagination." He stood up against the wall, a mischevious look on his face.
"Throw something at me."
"What?"
"I said throw something at me. Like an apple, or a spoon, or something." She looked at him in disbelief. "Come on, just do it."
She took the spoon out of her coffee and licked it clean. She looked up, arching her eyebrows at him. "Why?"
"I'll show you when you throw it!"
"Okay...." She gently lobbed the spoon underhanded in his direction. He caught it before it hit the ground.
"See?" He was grinning like a little boy who just found some candy.
"See what?"
He rolled his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If I'm not real, this would have landed on the floor! How did I catch the spoon, if I'm not real?"
"Oh, come on....I could just be making this all up in my head. I don't know if I really even threw that spoon. I could have just imagined it. I could even be dreaming right now."
"What?! How could you be---okay, you know what? Fine. I'll just think of something else." He sighed frustratedly, and paced around the kitchen.
"A-ha!" He exclaimed suddenly.
"What?"
She watched him run into the living room, and pick up the remote control and turn on the tv. "Ha!" he exclaimed, pointing at the tv screen. "See? How could I be holding this, and turn on the tv, if I'm not real? Huh?"
He smiled, smugly self-satisfied.
"I could still be dreaming this. I could have turned the tv on myself, and just forgot and--"
"NO! Don't you get it! I'm here! I'm real! I can pick things up and touch them and--"
He came towards her suddenly, purposefully. He stopped right in front of her, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her out of her chair.
"Hey! What are you doing! Let go of me!" She pushed at his arms, but his grip held fast.
"No, I'm going to prove this to you." He stared into her, his deep green eyes boring right through her dark hazel ones. "I. Am. Real. Period! Can't you feel me touching you?" She concentrated as hard as she could. She could feel his hands on her forearms, his grip tight and firm as his fingers flexed and relaxed around her. She could feel his breath with each word that he spoke, could smell the scent of his skin, cigarette smoke, coffee, cologne. She could see the small flecks of gold that interrupted the clear, beautiful green in his irises. The curve of his pale lips. She exhaled a shaky breath.
"Do you see?" He whispered, as he leaned towards her, his breath teasing her cheek. She felt her arms being released from his grip as she brought one hand up to his face. She followed her hand with her eyes as she gently stroked across his cheeks, his lips, his nose, seeing and feeling ever curve and nuance of his face. She placed her other hand delicately on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his heavy breathing. She looked into his eyes, understanding finally dawning on her.
"I'm sorry Gerard. You are real. I don't understand you at all.....but you are real." She said softly, her eyes fluttering down to look at her hand on his chest, and back up to his eyes.
Instead of speaking her wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and planted a soft kiss on her unsuspecting lips. His hand came up to her neck, slowly caressing her, teasing her, and she bent her head back to accomodate him. He pulled away after only a few seconds. She inhaled a ragged breath, her cheeks infused with the a sudden rush of blood. He pushed himself away from her gently, yet forcefully.
She backed away a bit, pulling her robe tighter around her throat. "Well.....I guess you weren't lying when you said that you were charming.....when you want to be." She smiled shyly at him.
He ran a hand through his tangled black hair, smiling rougishly. "I should probably go.....I just wanted to see you." He turned towards the door, and she followed him stopping at the doorframe.

He paused, turning back to her. "Can I see you again?" He asked hopefully.
"Yes. Yes, I'd like that very much." She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from beside the door, and scribbled her phone number down on it, pressing it into his palm.
"Thank you. I'll call you soon." She nodded. "Well, goodbye, Versailles." He smiled, grabbing her hand and sqeezing it quickly before walking off down the hall. She watched him until he was around the corner, and then, sighing dreamily, closed the door behind her.
She was back in the kitchen, sipping her coffee when the thought occurred to her.
She ran over to the balcony door, hoping to catch him before he went through the courtyard. She opened the glass door, and leaned over the railing, scanning the area below for signs of him. There!
"Gerard!" She yelled waving her hand vigorously, trying to get his attention. "Gerard!"
He stopped, looking around until he spotted her on the balcony. He waved back.
"I forgot to ask you! What's your last name?!"
He cupped a hand to his ear. "What?!" He called back.
"Your last name! I have to know!"
She could see him smile and nod his head. "It's Way. Gerard Way."
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Can You Stake My Heart