Fic: Starship
Starship // PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own nor am associated to the members of My Chemical Romance or David Bowie and The Spiders From Mars.
Fandom: My Chemical Romance (and David Bowie?)
Unbeta’d. This was supposed to be my submission for mychemicaltest’s challenge: Bandom Crossover, but some technical problems (e-mails) arose where it couldn’t be obtained on time and therefore entered. This is my wild fantasy on Ziggy Stardust’s character and his impact on David Bowie more than anything else.
The changes weren’t subtle at all. The walls, once a light shade of beige, were now a deep brown, the furniture was completely rearranged to where Gerard wasn’t even sure this was the same room, and the scent of vanilla replaced whatever had been in the air before. Gerard rushed through the double doors leading out to the balcony and looked out to the city in confusion. The city looked the same - from what he knew of - but it felt different; it felt off.
“Shit, I only closed my eyes for a few seconds,” Gerard spoke to himself. His eyes were wider than usual, afraid that if he blinked again it’d be the end of the world.
“Lucky for you,” a voice appeared from behind, “you opened your eyes in the presence of a messiah.”
Gerard was taken back when he turned around to see a youthful David Bowie standing at the doorway with his arms stretched up high. His hair was fiery red, wild but still somewhat together in a mullet, and his face was an unnatural pale tone and full of exaggerated make-up that made his skin appear like a canvas to a master of artwork. He remained still; he looked like a God dressed up in a rock star’s clothes. Gerard blinked several times in a row thinking that the David Bowie (if this was even the actual man) before him was some sort of crazy character in Gerard’s fantasy.
When Gerard knew he was certainly awake and everything in front of him was definitely real, he stepped forward and whispered in awe, “You’re-“
“Just call me Ziggy! Call me Ziggy Stardust,” the man interrupted, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Ziggy fucking Stardust.”
David - Ziggy walked up to Gerard and put his hand on Gerard’s shoulder. His small, skinny, physique felt giant to Gerard. Ziggy pursed his lips together as he looked Gerard from head to toe, studying the man. Gerard was taken by surprise when Ziggy used his free hand to run his fingers through blonde Gerard’s hair.
“And who are you?” Ziggy raised his chin up high and narrowed his eyes at Gerard. He smoothed Gerard’s shirt and walked back into the building before Gerard could answer and leaving Gerard in a short trance. It took a couple of seconds before Gerard followed.
“I’m a patient - the patient,” Gerard found a wooden chair and desk further in the room. A couch used to, or is going to, be here, Gerard took thought as he sad down. Ziggy laughed and shook his head, which only made Gerard more uncomfortable than he already appeared to be.
“The patient?” Ziggy laughed even harder. “Is that right? You don’t sound too sure about tha-”
“-Gerard,” Gerard corrected. “Gerard Way.”
The conversation stopped and Gerard tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Ziggy was tapping on his own leg for a little while, but the sound stopped. Gerard thought if he opened his eyes right then, he’d be able to see Ray or maybe Frank and tell them how David Bowie was a crazy motherfucker back in the day. He did open his eyes, but there still stood Ziggy. Gerard shut his eyes again and let out a sigh.
“It’s the fucking seventies, isn’t it?”
“Seventy-three.”
“Great,” Gerard stood up. His hands were clutched into fists, but that didn’t last very long before he let out a deep sigh and buried away his frustration. Slowly, Gerard flashed a grin and he laughed uncontrollably. Gerard threw his arms up, “Great!”
Ziggy walked over, laughing along with Gerard, and pulled Gerard into a hug. Gerard returned the action, shut his eyes, and didn’t really think but rather than intake the strong scent of vanilla that had overpowered the room when this - whatever this is - started. When they pulled apart, Ziggy stared into Gerard’s eyes with a smirk on his lips. The same arrogant smirk Gerard had seen earlier.
“Know what I like about you, Gerard? You remind me of me.”
“Yeah?”
“You probably hate it.”
“Oh?”
“I hate Ziggy Stardust.” They both stood silent after that and each eventually drifted off into their own section of the room. Ziggy or David or whomever he wanted to be called focused his attention out the window. “Ziggy could have saved the world!” He continued, minutes later. “He was the world; he was art, he was freedom, humanity, sexuality,” he paused, “but in the end, he destroyed himself. Well, not yet.”
Gerard shrugged, despite all the thoughts that ran through his mind. David shrugged too, despite opening his mouth to speak again.
“Ziggy Stardust is going to bigger than human, but he has to die and when he does he might try to take David with him.” There was a question somewhere in that sentence in which Gerard felt he probably knew the answer to. The phone rang, though, before Gerard could say anything. David answered it while Gerard replaced David’s spot by the window. The sun was setting.
It wasn’t a spectacular view, like Gerard would love to imagine; clouds covered the scene. It scared Gerard a little to think that it had rained earlier (or later when a whole lot has changed and everything has happened) and he had laughed to the sound of raindrops against his window and some bad joke Frank told him. He wondered if the rain had anything to do with this, but decided it didn’t matter.
“Where do you go once you name your band ‘The Spiders From Mars’?” David’s voice was faint, but strong enough to interrupt any thoughts in Gerard’s head. When Gerard turned around to respond, Bob was there; he was laying on a bed that wasn’t there before. Gerard blinked a few times and, if he had been alone, he would have screamed and maybe even wish that could have answered sooner.
Instead, he stood and wondered if he was even gone or if anyone even cared, pulled on his own hair, and watched Bob sit up from the bed as Gerard said, “fucking blonde. Think it's about time I dye it back.”
Disclaimer: I don't own nor am associated to the members of My Chemical Romance or David Bowie and The Spiders From Mars.
Fandom: My Chemical Romance (and David Bowie?)
Unbeta’d. This was supposed to be my submission for mychemicaltest’s challenge: Bandom Crossover, but some technical problems (e-mails) arose where it couldn’t be obtained on time and therefore entered. This is my wild fantasy on Ziggy Stardust’s character and his impact on David Bowie more than anything else.
The changes weren’t subtle at all. The walls, once a light shade of beige, were now a deep brown, the furniture was completely rearranged to where Gerard wasn’t even sure this was the same room, and the scent of vanilla replaced whatever had been in the air before. Gerard rushed through the double doors leading out to the balcony and looked out to the city in confusion. The city looked the same - from what he knew of - but it felt different; it felt off.
“Shit, I only closed my eyes for a few seconds,” Gerard spoke to himself. His eyes were wider than usual, afraid that if he blinked again it’d be the end of the world.
“Lucky for you,” a voice appeared from behind, “you opened your eyes in the presence of a messiah.”
Gerard was taken back when he turned around to see a youthful David Bowie standing at the doorway with his arms stretched up high. His hair was fiery red, wild but still somewhat together in a mullet, and his face was an unnatural pale tone and full of exaggerated make-up that made his skin appear like a canvas to a master of artwork. He remained still; he looked like a God dressed up in a rock star’s clothes. Gerard blinked several times in a row thinking that the David Bowie (if this was even the actual man) before him was some sort of crazy character in Gerard’s fantasy.
When Gerard knew he was certainly awake and everything in front of him was definitely real, he stepped forward and whispered in awe, “You’re-“
“Just call me Ziggy! Call me Ziggy Stardust,” the man interrupted, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Ziggy fucking Stardust.”
David - Ziggy walked up to Gerard and put his hand on Gerard’s shoulder. His small, skinny, physique felt giant to Gerard. Ziggy pursed his lips together as he looked Gerard from head to toe, studying the man. Gerard was taken by surprise when Ziggy used his free hand to run his fingers through blonde Gerard’s hair.
“And who are you?” Ziggy raised his chin up high and narrowed his eyes at Gerard. He smoothed Gerard’s shirt and walked back into the building before Gerard could answer and leaving Gerard in a short trance. It took a couple of seconds before Gerard followed.
“I’m a patient - the patient,” Gerard found a wooden chair and desk further in the room. A couch used to, or is going to, be here, Gerard took thought as he sad down. Ziggy laughed and shook his head, which only made Gerard more uncomfortable than he already appeared to be.
“The patient?” Ziggy laughed even harder. “Is that right? You don’t sound too sure about tha-”
“-Gerard,” Gerard corrected. “Gerard Way.”
The conversation stopped and Gerard tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Ziggy was tapping on his own leg for a little while, but the sound stopped. Gerard thought if he opened his eyes right then, he’d be able to see Ray or maybe Frank and tell them how David Bowie was a crazy motherfucker back in the day. He did open his eyes, but there still stood Ziggy. Gerard shut his eyes again and let out a sigh.
“It’s the fucking seventies, isn’t it?”
“Seventy-three.”
“Great,” Gerard stood up. His hands were clutched into fists, but that didn’t last very long before he let out a deep sigh and buried away his frustration. Slowly, Gerard flashed a grin and he laughed uncontrollably. Gerard threw his arms up, “Great!”
Ziggy walked over, laughing along with Gerard, and pulled Gerard into a hug. Gerard returned the action, shut his eyes, and didn’t really think but rather than intake the strong scent of vanilla that had overpowered the room when this - whatever this is - started. When they pulled apart, Ziggy stared into Gerard’s eyes with a smirk on his lips. The same arrogant smirk Gerard had seen earlier.
“Know what I like about you, Gerard? You remind me of me.”
“Yeah?”
“You probably hate it.”
“Oh?”
“I hate Ziggy Stardust.” They both stood silent after that and each eventually drifted off into their own section of the room. Ziggy or David or whomever he wanted to be called focused his attention out the window. “Ziggy could have saved the world!” He continued, minutes later. “He was the world; he was art, he was freedom, humanity, sexuality,” he paused, “but in the end, he destroyed himself. Well, not yet.”
Gerard shrugged, despite all the thoughts that ran through his mind. David shrugged too, despite opening his mouth to speak again.
“Ziggy Stardust is going to bigger than human, but he has to die and when he does he might try to take David with him.” There was a question somewhere in that sentence in which Gerard felt he probably knew the answer to. The phone rang, though, before Gerard could say anything. David answered it while Gerard replaced David’s spot by the window. The sun was setting.
It wasn’t a spectacular view, like Gerard would love to imagine; clouds covered the scene. It scared Gerard a little to think that it had rained earlier (or later when a whole lot has changed and everything has happened) and he had laughed to the sound of raindrops against his window and some bad joke Frank told him. He wondered if the rain had anything to do with this, but decided it didn’t matter.
“Where do you go once you name your band ‘The Spiders From Mars’?” David’s voice was faint, but strong enough to interrupt any thoughts in Gerard’s head. When Gerard turned around to respond, Bob was there; he was laying on a bed that wasn’t there before. Gerard blinked a few times and, if he had been alone, he would have screamed and maybe even wish that could have answered sooner.
Instead, he stood and wondered if he was even gone or if anyone even cared, pulled on his own hair, and watched Bob sit up from the bed as Gerard said, “fucking blonde. Think it's about time I dye it back.”