Pairing: Gerard Way/Mikey Way, Bob Bryar/Bert Mccracken, Gerard Way/Nathan Leone/Matthew Leone
Warnings: Blood, death, gore, though other parts will be more explicit
Notes: The main inspiration for this was the Buffy episode Restless (which is all kinds of awesome). I had the idea ages ago, but causa everything I didn't even start it till the other day.
Dedications: bloodyhands, mikeyface, fastbetty31, the_glory_days, antontobias86
It had been Frankie's idea for us to use our first day of time off to all go to his place. We'd rented a few dvds, ordered some pizza and just sat on the couch talking about nothing at all. When the first dvd was put on, before even the end of the titles had rolled, we'd fallen asleep.
I woke up, in bed, but there wasn't the familiar heat of Gerard's body pressed against my back or side, nor was his arm drapped over my chest like it sometimes was. I turned to look, finding the bed was not just completely empty, but cold to the touch. Gerard hadn't slept here. It was no secret to those close to us that we were together, we knew it would've been too hard to hide it from the others. That had been why Matt had left and why Bob joined. Some of the fans knew too, we weren't completely clueless, but we kept it secret from them. Though Gerard had started groping me more since he'd read about us.
"Mikey." I turned at the familiar, comforting sound of Bob's voice. He was standing in the doorway, his figure only a shadowly silhouette but it was still familiar to me. "There's something you should see."
I slowly pulled the covers off me to climb out of bed. "What is it?"
"You need to see it." There was something about the way he said that that made me speed up my actions. Had something happened to Gerard? Ray? Frankie? I wasn't sure, but I knew I needed to follow him.
I wrapped myself in a dressing gown to cover my naked skin and crossed the room to him. He was dressed all in black and smelt of smoke. "Show me."
He nodded, leading me out of the room and downstairs. "This way." I followed a few steps behind him, the calm tone of his voice relaxing my nerves. If anyone was hurt he wouldn't be this calm. I followed him out into the street, surprised that it wasn't as cold out here as I expected it to be. The streets of New Jersey were usually cool at night, but tonight seemed to be one of the rare better nights. He led me to the entrance to a darkened alley and pointed down it. "There."
I looked at him, confused for a moment but I peeked around the corner anyway. I couldn't see anything, but I could hear moans. It was as if someone was being fucked down here. "Bob, I'm not a voyeur, I've told you that before."
"Just go look Mikey... please."
"Alright, alright." I took a few steps into the darkness, being as quiet as I could so as not to disturb them. The first thing I saw was a guy on his his knees, that had a hand tangled in the dark strip in his bleached blond hair. From his movements and position on his knees it was clear what he was doing. As I got closer I could see the guy he was giving head to.
"Oh fuck Matthew..." He tipped his head back, making a familiar low moaning sound. No, this couldn't be true, couldn't be real. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, but the sight that greeted me was still the same. The only thing that had changed was a blond nibbling on Gerard's collarbone. "Nathan, fuck me harder, please."
My big brother, my lover, was a whore. I couldn't stand to look at the sight before me anymore. I turned away from them and stormed off, back to Bob with tears in my eyes. Bob would know what to do. Bob always knew what to do. If he didn't, then he could always give me hugs. He was good at giving those. He'd probably take me back home, make me a cup of hot chocolate and hug me until I'd cried myself to sleep.
The only problem was that Bob wasn't there when I got to the end of the alley. In fact, the alley ended in a completely different place. I looked around in confusion as I entered not a street, but a room. The room was pretty devoid of life, even though it was a small arena. "Hello? Bob? Are you here?" I looked around the empty space, taking a few steps forward with every word I said. There was only one person in the room and they were sitting on the floor cross-legged with their back to me. "Hello?"
"My boyfriend's not here." Smoke drifted from his lips as the figure spoke and I recognised his voice immediately. Bert Mccracken. His words made no sense though, as he and Bob hadn't been with each other for a long time now. That was his reason for hating Gerard and us with a passion, because we'd taken Bob away from him. Even though Bob had tried to make it work as best he could, Bert wasn't the most reasoned people in the world. "Neither's your slut of a brother."
I opened my mouth to speak, but instead kept quiet and wiped my eyes. I came over to him, sitting beside him. I needed whatever drugs he had. "You're right, he is a slut... how could I not see it..."
"Sorry kid." He patted me on his head and I could smell his dirty fingers. He combed his fingers through my hair, his other hand offering me the roll up he'd been smoking. I took a long drag and blew the smoke out, feeling it burn my lungs. he snatched it back, looking me straight in the eyes from under his dark, greasy hair. "You'd better watch out kid."
"What do you me..." I felt a searing pain through my left lung and looked down, a shining blade having pierced through my body.
"That." Bert was grinning at me, laughing insanely as the blade ripped through my flesh. I tried to fight and to pull away, but it was doing no good. Another blade joined the first in the other side of my chest and mirrored it's actions. Blood flowed from the wound, staining my clothes and pooling around my body. I opened my mouth to speak, to try and ask Bert for help, but I couldn't utter a word. From the look on his face I doubted he'd come to my aid anyway. The blades removed themselves from my body, causing me to crumple to the floor, more of my blood pooling around me.
I was dying, I knew that much. Someone had killed me and the only witness was a Bert that thought me being stabbed was hysterical. The stoned fucker.
I couldn't find the strengh to even see who'd done this to me as I started drifting off. All I heard was a laugh, one that had joined Bert's now. I knew that laugh, but my brain couldn't put a face to the voice. I looked at Bert's laughing form once last time, before my eyes rolled back into my skull and everything turned black.