Serendipity [3/?]
Title: Serendipity
Author: howXiXdisappear
Pairing: so far implied Gerard/Mikey, past Gerard/Frank
Rating: R
Summary: "Where would you fly to?" Mikey asks, ready to catch the shorter man if he falls. Gerard is known to be clumbsy.
His eyes open and he looks up at the sky. For a moment, he says nothing and just stares thoughtfully. Then he looks back down and slowly continues to move forward. "...Heaven," He says.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author Notes: The real authors note is at the end of the chapter. Beware: its long.
Warnings: Incest. Language. Attempted suicide. Death. Not beta-ed.
My Valentine Has Hollow Eyes
It Can't Rain All The Time
The tides of sin draw tighter and brighter,
The hours become heavier and weighted,
And the shadows smile, dark and wild.
This is when hope and desire collapse,
The arc of the dream descends into despair,
When innocent lovers dance
Like angels on fire.
This is when the night comes down,
a hammer on an anvil
And the only absolution accepted
Is a legacy of brutality.
A single note rings on and on and on. -Irony, James O'Barr
That night, he dreams about fire.
The cemetary is quiet, empty. His only company are the graves surrounding him. Some newer, fresh flowers laid out in front of them, accompanied by the occasional teddy bear or water-stained photo of a family member or friend left behind. Others, forgotten. Covered in dirt, engulfed with weeds. The words so worn that they can't be read. When he was younger, Gerard would try to clean the older graves, feeling that their owners needed love too, no matter how long they had been gone. Now that part of him that used to care so much couldn't care any less.
He walks, head bowed, towards Frank's grave and kneels down, gently running his index finger across the bold letters spelling out his name. "Hey, baby..." He whispers with a sad smile. "How are you?" Of course he knows Frank can't talk back, but he waits anyway, closing his eyes and imaging Frank sitting next to him. Frank talking with him. "Eh. Can't complain. It's...clean, y'know. In Heaven. It's really clean."
"Do you like it?"
"What, being clean?" Pretend-Frank frowns and raises an eyebrow in confusion.
"No... Heaven." Gerard lays next to the mound of dirt in front of the headstone. He can still see the outline of the rectangular hole that holds the casket, and he feels his throat tighten as he thinks about watching it lower after everyone else had gone away.
"Oh..." It hurt. It hurt so much to watch and it hurts to think about. It's scarring. It's scary. Because that was the moment Gerard realized... "No...not really. Baby, I'd come back home to you right now if I could, you know that, don't you?" That was the moment Gerard realized, Frank was really dead. He would never come back home again.
No one should ever watch the casket go down.*
"I-I know..." He wipes his eyes, but in his head, it's Frank whose wiping away the tears, the way he used to do. Pretend-Frank plants a kiss on his forehead and holds him for a minute. When Gerard breathes in, he can smell him. He smells just as good as he did before.
"Don't hurt yourself anymore," Pretend-Frank says, his voice suddenly sounding agonized. He's staring at Gerard's arms. At the infected cuts, the scars, the bruises, the burns. "Please, Gee, I'm not worth this. I'm not."
Gerard opens his eyes now and sits up. He doesn't believe him.
That night, he dreams about the funeral.
"Honey Bunches of Oats? What are you, 60?" Gerard takes a seat by his brother, running a hand through his deshevled bed-hair, and watching the younger man eat.
"You're an ass." Mikey shovels a spoonful into his mouth. "'s na ol' people foo'."
"I have never seen anyone but senior citizens eat that shit before. It's old people food. And chew with your fuckin' mouth closed, sicko." Mikey swallows and smiles. He doesn't say anything, but he loves these moments. The moments when things seem... normal. The way they were before. When Gerard teases him and they just sit and rant and talk shit to each other, like siblings tend to do. It's not something that happens very often anymore. Mikey lives for these rare moments. He fucking lives for them.
After breakfast, they walk down to the drug store to buy cigarettes. They're silent for a while, nearly twenty minutes, until Gerard says "I wish I could fly."
He's stopped walking by now and is standing on the curb of the sidewalk, arms outstretched to keep his balance. He closes his eyes and smiles slightly. "I'd do anything if I could..."
"Where would you fly to?" Mikey asks, ready to catch the shorter man if he falls. Gerard is known to be clumsy.
His eyes open and he looks up at the sky. For a moment, he says nothing and just stares thoughtfully. Then he looks back down and slowly continues to move forward. "...Heaven," He says.
Mikey doesn't say anything to that. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't know what to say. So they once again go on in silence. It's nothing unusual anymore.
On the way home, Mikey catches himself staring at Gerard, watching him watching nothing and letting his cigarette burn out. With a smile, Mikey remembers hwo he used to get lost in staring while they were still together. It isn't something he's thought about in a long time, and he's not so sure why he's suddenly thinking about it now.
Chosing his words carefully, he finds a way to ask Gerard how often he thinks about 'the way things were'. Gerard says, almost everyday. So Mikey figures that it's okay that he's thinking about it too.
"Were you leading me on the whole time?" Gerard wonders outloud, still not tearing his gaze away from his spot in space. The question seems to surprise Mikey, who frowns and stops walking.
"I...what?"
"Well, I know you weren't in love with me, but sometimes when I look back on it, it kind of seems like you were using me," Gerard puts out his cigarette and lights a new one, taking in a long drag before speaking again. "I'm not saying that you were the whole time, y'know, 'cause I didn't think you were...it's just, after a while it all seemed like you were just using me until something better came along." He shrugs. "I don't really care anymore; I'm pretty much over it, I've just been curious how long you were just waiting for."
Again, Mikey doesn't reply. Because...what is he going to say to that? He doesn't know what he was feeling back then, if he was or wasn't waiting for something better. There wasn't a something-better that followed their...whatever it was. Relationship...fling. There wasn't anything after that. Not for Mikey. He never went looking after he ended it. He wasn't like Gerard; he didn't need to be in love all the time.
"I can wait for the answer, forever if I have to."
"You're gonna have to." Mikey replies.
He's never felt so relived to get home as he did that day.
.Authors Note. -this is long. its not neccsary to read.
First off, this is about the * towards the end of the cemetary scene. I'm not sure if it's at all obvious- I really thought it was, but I don't know if anyone else did- but that scene was really hard for me to right. Mostly because of the part where Gerard was thinking about Frank's funeral, and the coffin going down. I didn't really like how I wrote that part, and was kind of unsure about putting it in at all, but I decided to leave it in anyway. The thing is, at the one and only funeral I've ever been to, my grandpa's funeral, I saw the casket go down. I was 11 at the time, and now I'm 17 and it's still the most scarring moment of my life. What I attempted to write in the cemetary scene was sort of how it feels to watch it, and I don't think I did a good job... however, I'm lazy and just wanna be done with this chapter, so I guess it's staying that way.
Also, I think it might be obvious that this is going to have to be longer then 3 chapters. I'm hoping to keep it as a short story, because I've already got a few other chaptered fics lingering around, but I'm not so sure. I don't exactly know where I'm going with this at all, so I have to take some time to plan that out. The next part will be out after I've figured it all out. Hopefully that will be soon. Maybe not- school starts on Tuesday, and between that and work, it could take forever. -__- Damn highschool.
love, yourfriendlyneighborhoodspiderman
p.s. Concrit please. This is the weakest chapter, I think, and I'd like it if I could get a little help to make the next chapter a lot better. =]
Author: howXiXdisappear
Pairing: so far implied Gerard/Mikey, past Gerard/Frank
Rating: R
Summary: "Where would you fly to?" Mikey asks, ready to catch the shorter man if he falls. Gerard is known to be clumbsy.
His eyes open and he looks up at the sky. For a moment, he says nothing and just stares thoughtfully. Then he looks back down and slowly continues to move forward. "...Heaven," He says.
Disclaimer: Not real.
Author Notes: The real authors note is at the end of the chapter. Beware: its long.
Warnings: Incest. Language. Attempted suicide. Death. Not beta-ed.
My Valentine Has Hollow Eyes
It Can't Rain All The Time
The tides of sin draw tighter and brighter,
The hours become heavier and weighted,
And the shadows smile, dark and wild.
This is when hope and desire collapse,
The arc of the dream descends into despair,
When innocent lovers dance
Like angels on fire.
This is when the night comes down,
a hammer on an anvil
And the only absolution accepted
Is a legacy of brutality.
A single note rings on and on and on. -Irony, James O'Barr
That night, he dreams about fire.
The cemetary is quiet, empty. His only company are the graves surrounding him. Some newer, fresh flowers laid out in front of them, accompanied by the occasional teddy bear or water-stained photo of a family member or friend left behind. Others, forgotten. Covered in dirt, engulfed with weeds. The words so worn that they can't be read. When he was younger, Gerard would try to clean the older graves, feeling that their owners needed love too, no matter how long they had been gone. Now that part of him that used to care so much couldn't care any less.
He walks, head bowed, towards Frank's grave and kneels down, gently running his index finger across the bold letters spelling out his name. "Hey, baby..." He whispers with a sad smile. "How are you?" Of course he knows Frank can't talk back, but he waits anyway, closing his eyes and imaging Frank sitting next to him. Frank talking with him. "Eh. Can't complain. It's...clean, y'know. In Heaven. It's really clean."
"Do you like it?"
"What, being clean?" Pretend-Frank frowns and raises an eyebrow in confusion.
"No... Heaven." Gerard lays next to the mound of dirt in front of the headstone. He can still see the outline of the rectangular hole that holds the casket, and he feels his throat tighten as he thinks about watching it lower after everyone else had gone away.
"Oh..." It hurt. It hurt so much to watch and it hurts to think about. It's scarring. It's scary. Because that was the moment Gerard realized... "No...not really. Baby, I'd come back home to you right now if I could, you know that, don't you?" That was the moment Gerard realized, Frank was really dead. He would never come back home again.
No one should ever watch the casket go down.*
"I-I know..." He wipes his eyes, but in his head, it's Frank whose wiping away the tears, the way he used to do. Pretend-Frank plants a kiss on his forehead and holds him for a minute. When Gerard breathes in, he can smell him. He smells just as good as he did before.
"Don't hurt yourself anymore," Pretend-Frank says, his voice suddenly sounding agonized. He's staring at Gerard's arms. At the infected cuts, the scars, the bruises, the burns. "Please, Gee, I'm not worth this. I'm not."
Gerard opens his eyes now and sits up. He doesn't believe him.
That night, he dreams about the funeral.
"Honey Bunches of Oats? What are you, 60?" Gerard takes a seat by his brother, running a hand through his deshevled bed-hair, and watching the younger man eat.
"You're an ass." Mikey shovels a spoonful into his mouth. "'s na ol' people foo'."
"I have never seen anyone but senior citizens eat that shit before. It's old people food. And chew with your fuckin' mouth closed, sicko." Mikey swallows and smiles. He doesn't say anything, but he loves these moments. The moments when things seem... normal. The way they were before. When Gerard teases him and they just sit and rant and talk shit to each other, like siblings tend to do. It's not something that happens very often anymore. Mikey lives for these rare moments. He fucking lives for them.
After breakfast, they walk down to the drug store to buy cigarettes. They're silent for a while, nearly twenty minutes, until Gerard says "I wish I could fly."
He's stopped walking by now and is standing on the curb of the sidewalk, arms outstretched to keep his balance. He closes his eyes and smiles slightly. "I'd do anything if I could..."
"Where would you fly to?" Mikey asks, ready to catch the shorter man if he falls. Gerard is known to be clumsy.
His eyes open and he looks up at the sky. For a moment, he says nothing and just stares thoughtfully. Then he looks back down and slowly continues to move forward. "...Heaven," He says.
Mikey doesn't say anything to that. Not because he doesn't want to, but because he doesn't know what to say. So they once again go on in silence. It's nothing unusual anymore.
On the way home, Mikey catches himself staring at Gerard, watching him watching nothing and letting his cigarette burn out. With a smile, Mikey remembers hwo he used to get lost in staring while they were still together. It isn't something he's thought about in a long time, and he's not so sure why he's suddenly thinking about it now.
Chosing his words carefully, he finds a way to ask Gerard how often he thinks about 'the way things were'. Gerard says, almost everyday. So Mikey figures that it's okay that he's thinking about it too.
"Were you leading me on the whole time?" Gerard wonders outloud, still not tearing his gaze away from his spot in space. The question seems to surprise Mikey, who frowns and stops walking.
"I...what?"
"Well, I know you weren't in love with me, but sometimes when I look back on it, it kind of seems like you were using me," Gerard puts out his cigarette and lights a new one, taking in a long drag before speaking again. "I'm not saying that you were the whole time, y'know, 'cause I didn't think you were...it's just, after a while it all seemed like you were just using me until something better came along." He shrugs. "I don't really care anymore; I'm pretty much over it, I've just been curious how long you were just waiting for."
Again, Mikey doesn't reply. Because...what is he going to say to that? He doesn't know what he was feeling back then, if he was or wasn't waiting for something better. There wasn't a something-better that followed their...whatever it was. Relationship...fling. There wasn't anything after that. Not for Mikey. He never went looking after he ended it. He wasn't like Gerard; he didn't need to be in love all the time.
"I can wait for the answer, forever if I have to."
"You're gonna have to." Mikey replies.
He's never felt so relived to get home as he did that day.
.Authors Note. -this is long. its not neccsary to read.
First off, this is about the * towards the end of the cemetary scene. I'm not sure if it's at all obvious- I really thought it was, but I don't know if anyone else did- but that scene was really hard for me to right. Mostly because of the part where Gerard was thinking about Frank's funeral, and the coffin going down. I didn't really like how I wrote that part, and was kind of unsure about putting it in at all, but I decided to leave it in anyway. The thing is, at the one and only funeral I've ever been to, my grandpa's funeral, I saw the casket go down. I was 11 at the time, and now I'm 17 and it's still the most scarring moment of my life. What I attempted to write in the cemetary scene was sort of how it feels to watch it, and I don't think I did a good job... however, I'm lazy and just wanna be done with this chapter, so I guess it's staying that way.
Also, I think it might be obvious that this is going to have to be longer then 3 chapters. I'm hoping to keep it as a short story, because I've already got a few other chaptered fics lingering around, but I'm not so sure. I don't exactly know where I'm going with this at all, so I have to take some time to plan that out. The next part will be out after I've figured it all out. Hopefully that will be soon. Maybe not- school starts on Tuesday, and between that and work, it could take forever. -__- Damn highschool.
love, yourfriendlyneighborhoodspiderman
p.s. Concrit please. This is the weakest chapter, I think, and I'd like it if I could get a little help to make the next chapter a lot better. =]