The Only Hope For Me Is You
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Frerard
Chapter: What's Life Like Bleeding on the Floor? - 3/?
Rating: PG?
Story summary: Gerard has loved Frank since he was twenty four years old and it's tearing him apart...
Warnings: Contains slash! Obviously.
Disclaimer: Obviously this never happened. But hopefully it still might.
April 2004
Michael James Way’s point of view
I opened my eyes and it was dark; it was so dark that I may as well have not opened my eyes at all. I sighed and rolled over, shoving my hand under my pillow I pulled out my phone to check the time… 4a.m.
4 a.m. and I felt wide awake! Just for a minute I wondered what had woken me up at his ridiculous time in the morning... But then I heard it.
It was quiet but growing slightly - ever so slightly - louder by the second; the sound of muffled sobs.
Something inside me stirred, I immediately knew something wasn’t right; this wasn’t just someone off to have a little cry about how they miss their mom at four a-fucking-m (people may say we’re an emo band but, Jesus, were not that emo!) there was something badly wrong - I felt scared.
I grabbed my flashlight (It always hung next to my bed, in case of emergencies. Safety conscious, I was. Always come prepared!), and switched it on. Everything looked a bit fuzzy and I thought for a moment maybe I was dreaming, but then I realised I’d forgotten to put my glasses on. I felt about for them and found them pretty quickly, and once I’d put them on everything was a lot clearer, funnily enough. I jumped out of my bunk and shined my torch at the bunk opposite mine - Gerard's. It was empty. Panic welled up inside me and I tiptoed, as quickly and as quietly as I could, towards the direction the sobs were coming from.
In my heart I knew exactly what had happened, but I dared to wish- to hope that it was something else. That I was just being paranoid and that everything was okay really. Or maybe I was still in a dream? In a nightmare...
But no, everything was far too real for a dream; the sound of the wind whistling through the trees outside the thin windows of the bus. The quiet snoring of my band mates as they slept, oblivious to the fact that there could be a major crisis going on under their very noses. The dim light coming from underneath the bathroom door- I stopped dead in my tracks. It was exactly as I’d feared! What else could it be? Gerard wasn’t in bed at 4 in the morning and there were mysterious sobbing noises coming from the bathroom of all places. Shit.
I tiptoed closer to the door and pressed my ear against it, he was talking to himself- no, wait,singing! He was singing to himself in between huge sobs, and there was another sound... A tiny scratching noise, like pencil against paper.
I was beyond worried now. I tried the handle and, to my immense surprise, the door opened.
All of a sudden the singing stopped; so did the sobs, to some degree. I pushed the door open and was confronted with one of the most terrible sites I’ve ever seen.
Gerard was sitting, hunched against the toilet. His hair damp and sticking to his face, his eyes red and bloodshot. His cheeks were tearstained and there were traces of vomit around his mouth and on the toilet. On his lap was a small sketch pad and his right hand lay on top of it, his fingers limply gripping a pencil - clearly this had been the scratching sound I heard.
My eyes welled up with tears as I took in the sight before me but I wiped them quickly; as much as it upset me to see Gee like this I needed to keep my composure in order to help him. Cautiously I stepped forward, and as I did his left arm came into view. I gasped in horror as I saw what he had done to himself; his once perfect skin had been slashed and mutilated until it was a bloody mess, the shining red liquid was dripping down his pale skin and forming a small puddle on the floor, beside which a blood-covered razorblade, a bottle of vodka and a small bottle of sleeping pills had been placed.
He looked at me; shock, terror and shame in his gorgeous hazel eyes as he reached for the razorblade again. I gave up all pretence of composure.
“Gerard! What the fuck are you doing?!” I whisper-shouted, rushing forwards to take the blade out of his hand, quickly snatching up vodka and pills out as well.
There was a short pause as I grabbed a towel and pressed it to his bleeding arm, praying silently that Gerard would be okay.
“I can’t stand it any longer” he whispered, his eyes drooping shut slightly as tears rolled down his cheeks.
‘I can’t stand it any longer’ those six little words broke my heart. He didn’t want to live.
But I couldn’t let him die.
I said the first thing that came into my head, “It will get better, Gerard. It gets better, honest.”
“It doesn’t, Mikes. Life will just get worse, it will keep getting worse until the day I die. Why shouldn’t I make that day sooner?” He slurred.
“Gerard.” I murmured, trying my hardest to blink back my tears. “Please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to mum and dad. To the rest of the boys… The fans. Do you not know how many people would miss you if you left us?” I pulled him close to me. He stank of alcohol and vomit but I didn’t care, at this moment in time I just wanted him to be safe.
“I wanna die.” He sobbed into my shirt, “Jus’let me go, Mikey.”
“I’m sorry Gee, but I can’t do that.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks now and I had given up trying to hide how upset I was. “I promise you, it will get better. Please, just stay with us… I love you so much, I could never have had a better brother. You’re an inspiration to so many kids across the world, they all look up to you as their idol. I’m so proud of you for that, Gerard! You don’t know how proud I am, and you can’t leave me now. Please don’t leave me, Gee.” I sobbed into his shoulder.
He pulled away from me, a look of utter confusion on his face. He frowned at me through his greasy hair before muttering, “I never knew I meant so much to you.”
I nodded, in too much of a state to be able to come out with anything coherent. Gerard pulled me close again, kissing my head he slurred “I don’t know what to do, Mikes.”
“Stay.” Was my simple reply.
There was a pause before Gerard responded with a quiet “For now.”
For now was good enough for me… For now.
*
I cleaned him up as best I could, I washed his face and dressed his wounds, and I wiped the blood off the floor, and then I called for the others. Before they arrived Gerard handed me his sketch book, he told me not to let the others see. No matter what.
The boys called for an ambulance as I sat in my bunk crying.
We went with Gerard to the hospital and I sat in the waiting room crying.
I cried when they told me Gerard would make a full recovery, and when they told me to keep him away from sharp objects and never let him in a room alone.
I cried when Gerard was brought out of his room, half asleep and being pushed along in a wheel chair, and when he told me he loved me and that I was the best brother he could ask for.
For days after I cried because I still couldn’t get the image of Gerard lying there, hunched against the toilet in a pool of his own blood out of my mind.
And afterwards, that evening, when everyone had gone to bed and I was wide awake - terrified of sleeping in case something happened - I looked at the sketchbook Gerard had given me, and I cried.
Frank.
Love makes people do terrible things - in my case it has driven me to this.
I never gave anyone a reason for my depression, but Mikey knew without me having to tell him. He blames himself for all this of course, he would do - he did introduce me to you. But it’s not his fault, make sure he knows that. He means everything to me and I don’t want him blaming himself for something he never could have prevented.
For years I have loved you and you’ve never noticed - since the day I met you I knew there was something special about you, but you never cared for me as I care for you.
I’ll make this short and sweet (like you), I can’t live knowing you will never love me back.
I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s no one’s fault but mine.
Please just know that I, Gerard Arthur Way, am yours forever. I’ll always be watching over you and I’ll never let anyone hurt you, I promise.
Remember me, Frankie. I love you. X
Then, added at the bottom of the page - almost as an afterthought - were the words
Funny how I always knew I’d die alone.
Pairing: Frerard
Chapter: What's Life Like Bleeding on the Floor? - 3/?
Rating: PG?
Story summary: Gerard has loved Frank since he was twenty four years old and it's tearing him apart...
Warnings: Contains slash! Obviously.
Disclaimer: Obviously this never happened. But hopefully it still might.
April 2004
Michael James Way’s point of view
I opened my eyes and it was dark; it was so dark that I may as well have not opened my eyes at all. I sighed and rolled over, shoving my hand under my pillow I pulled out my phone to check the time… 4a.m.
4 a.m. and I felt wide awake! Just for a minute I wondered what had woken me up at his ridiculous time in the morning... But then I heard it.
It was quiet but growing slightly - ever so slightly - louder by the second; the sound of muffled sobs.
Something inside me stirred, I immediately knew something wasn’t right; this wasn’t just someone off to have a little cry about how they miss their mom at four a-fucking-m (people may say we’re an emo band but, Jesus, were not that emo!) there was something badly wrong - I felt scared.
I grabbed my flashlight (It always hung next to my bed, in case of emergencies. Safety conscious, I was. Always come prepared!), and switched it on. Everything looked a bit fuzzy and I thought for a moment maybe I was dreaming, but then I realised I’d forgotten to put my glasses on. I felt about for them and found them pretty quickly, and once I’d put them on everything was a lot clearer, funnily enough. I jumped out of my bunk and shined my torch at the bunk opposite mine - Gerard's. It was empty. Panic welled up inside me and I tiptoed, as quickly and as quietly as I could, towards the direction the sobs were coming from.
In my heart I knew exactly what had happened, but I dared to wish- to hope that it was something else. That I was just being paranoid and that everything was okay really. Or maybe I was still in a dream? In a nightmare...
But no, everything was far too real for a dream; the sound of the wind whistling through the trees outside the thin windows of the bus. The quiet snoring of my band mates as they slept, oblivious to the fact that there could be a major crisis going on under their very noses. The dim light coming from underneath the bathroom door- I stopped dead in my tracks. It was exactly as I’d feared! What else could it be? Gerard wasn’t in bed at 4 in the morning and there were mysterious sobbing noises coming from the bathroom of all places. Shit.
I tiptoed closer to the door and pressed my ear against it, he was talking to himself- no, wait,singing! He was singing to himself in between huge sobs, and there was another sound... A tiny scratching noise, like pencil against paper.
I was beyond worried now. I tried the handle and, to my immense surprise, the door opened.
All of a sudden the singing stopped; so did the sobs, to some degree. I pushed the door open and was confronted with one of the most terrible sites I’ve ever seen.
Gerard was sitting, hunched against the toilet. His hair damp and sticking to his face, his eyes red and bloodshot. His cheeks were tearstained and there were traces of vomit around his mouth and on the toilet. On his lap was a small sketch pad and his right hand lay on top of it, his fingers limply gripping a pencil - clearly this had been the scratching sound I heard.
My eyes welled up with tears as I took in the sight before me but I wiped them quickly; as much as it upset me to see Gee like this I needed to keep my composure in order to help him. Cautiously I stepped forward, and as I did his left arm came into view. I gasped in horror as I saw what he had done to himself; his once perfect skin had been slashed and mutilated until it was a bloody mess, the shining red liquid was dripping down his pale skin and forming a small puddle on the floor, beside which a blood-covered razorblade, a bottle of vodka and a small bottle of sleeping pills had been placed.
He looked at me; shock, terror and shame in his gorgeous hazel eyes as he reached for the razorblade again. I gave up all pretence of composure.
“Gerard! What the fuck are you doing?!” I whisper-shouted, rushing forwards to take the blade out of his hand, quickly snatching up vodka and pills out as well.
There was a short pause as I grabbed a towel and pressed it to his bleeding arm, praying silently that Gerard would be okay.
“I can’t stand it any longer” he whispered, his eyes drooping shut slightly as tears rolled down his cheeks.
‘I can’t stand it any longer’ those six little words broke my heart. He didn’t want to live.
But I couldn’t let him die.
I said the first thing that came into my head, “It will get better, Gerard. It gets better, honest.”
“It doesn’t, Mikes. Life will just get worse, it will keep getting worse until the day I die. Why shouldn’t I make that day sooner?” He slurred.
“Gerard.” I murmured, trying my hardest to blink back my tears. “Please don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to mum and dad. To the rest of the boys… The fans. Do you not know how many people would miss you if you left us?” I pulled him close to me. He stank of alcohol and vomit but I didn’t care, at this moment in time I just wanted him to be safe.
“I wanna die.” He sobbed into my shirt, “Jus’let me go, Mikey.”
“I’m sorry Gee, but I can’t do that.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks now and I had given up trying to hide how upset I was. “I promise you, it will get better. Please, just stay with us… I love you so much, I could never have had a better brother. You’re an inspiration to so many kids across the world, they all look up to you as their idol. I’m so proud of you for that, Gerard! You don’t know how proud I am, and you can’t leave me now. Please don’t leave me, Gee.” I sobbed into his shoulder.
He pulled away from me, a look of utter confusion on his face. He frowned at me through his greasy hair before muttering, “I never knew I meant so much to you.”
I nodded, in too much of a state to be able to come out with anything coherent. Gerard pulled me close again, kissing my head he slurred “I don’t know what to do, Mikes.”
“Stay.” Was my simple reply.
There was a pause before Gerard responded with a quiet “For now.”
For now was good enough for me… For now.
*
I cleaned him up as best I could, I washed his face and dressed his wounds, and I wiped the blood off the floor, and then I called for the others. Before they arrived Gerard handed me his sketch book, he told me not to let the others see. No matter what.
The boys called for an ambulance as I sat in my bunk crying.
We went with Gerard to the hospital and I sat in the waiting room crying.
I cried when they told me Gerard would make a full recovery, and when they told me to keep him away from sharp objects and never let him in a room alone.
I cried when Gerard was brought out of his room, half asleep and being pushed along in a wheel chair, and when he told me he loved me and that I was the best brother he could ask for.
For days after I cried because I still couldn’t get the image of Gerard lying there, hunched against the toilet in a pool of his own blood out of my mind.
And afterwards, that evening, when everyone had gone to bed and I was wide awake - terrified of sleeping in case something happened - I looked at the sketchbook Gerard had given me, and I cried.
Frank.
Love makes people do terrible things - in my case it has driven me to this.
I never gave anyone a reason for my depression, but Mikey knew without me having to tell him. He blames himself for all this of course, he would do - he did introduce me to you. But it’s not his fault, make sure he knows that. He means everything to me and I don’t want him blaming himself for something he never could have prevented.
For years I have loved you and you’ve never noticed - since the day I met you I knew there was something special about you, but you never cared for me as I care for you.
I’ll make this short and sweet (like you), I can’t live knowing you will never love me back.
I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s no one’s fault but mine.
Please just know that I, Gerard Arthur Way, am yours forever. I’ll always be watching over you and I’ll never let anyone hurt you, I promise.
Remember me, Frankie. I love you. X
Then, added at the bottom of the page - almost as an afterthought - were the words
Funny how I always knew I’d die alone.