Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > You Can Cry All You Want to...

seventeen

by XxkelseyxX 2 Reviews

*sings* sit back relax sit back relapse... LOL had that stuck in my head while writing this. ENJOY.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama - Characters: Mikey Way - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2008/09/16 - Updated: 2008/09/16 - 900 words

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Brooklyn directed me to her house so she could get some essentials. I suggested we skip it and I would pick up whatever she needed, but she didn't find that to be such a good idea. What she didn't realize is that all I wanted to do was take care of her. Nothing would make me happier than to provide. She was too proud to let me do that. I'd have to slowly ease her into the idea.

I stayed close behind her as we stepped into the large Victorian-style home. She stopped in the doorway, and slowly looked around. She breathing became slightly louder. "Brook are you okay?"

Her expression quickly changed as though she was being snapped out of some sort of state. "Yeah, of course. I'll be really quick, then we can get out of here."

I followed her up a staircase and into a room. Bright pink paint and posters of teenage heartthrobs covered the walls. This room did not belong to Brooklyn, this room belonged to a monster. I laughed inwardly.

Brooklyn began gathering some of her things, but stopped suddenly dropping a pile of cds. She squeezed her eyes shut and placed her hands over her ears. Panic flooded over me. "No, no, no, no, no," she mumbled.

"Brooklyn," I said, gingerly walking toward her, "Brooklyn?" I lightly put my hand on her back.

"Don't fucking touch me!" she screamed.

I took a few steps back, bewildered. I had no clue what to do. Tears began streaming down her cheeks, and she ran out of the room. I followed her to a bathroom, where she slammed the door in my face, and I soon after heard echoed retching noises.

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled, "Brook?" I called, knocking on the door.

I heard no response. "I'm coming in okay?" I said, wrapping my fingers around the handle.

She pulled the door open, and latched onto me, crying into my chest. I moved my hand up and down her back, "Sh, its okay Brook,"

She shook her head, crying even harder.

"Come on, lets just go okay?" I suggested.

She looked up at me and nodded. I ushered her to the car, and opened the door for her. Once I was settled into the other side. "Let's go get a bite to eat, okay?"

She stared out the passenger window, and didn't respond. I drove a a small diner fairly close to my house. She sullenly followed me inside. We grabbed a booth, and she sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the silverware placed neatly before her.

An overly cheery waitress came up to us, and I ordered two coffees.

"Brooklyn," I said in a low voice, "Can you tell me what happened?"

Her eyes darted around the room, and finally stopped on me. "I...don't know..."

I leaned forward. "You can talk to me about anything you know,"

She sighed, "I know that Mikey...I just can't even explain..." she stopped. "I'm sorry I yelled at you,"

I half-smiled, "Its okay...can you try to explain?"

She stared down at her lap. "I hadn't been there since...my dad's wedding...it just...drudged up a lot of memories..."

I grabbed her hand across the table. "You're okay now?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine." she smiled and stood up. "I have to go to the washroom."

I rubbed my tired eyes and took a sip from my cup. That's when I noticed that Brooklyn's knife was missing from her place setting. "Fuck," I said, receiving disgusted looks from a group of elderly people in the booth next to me. I raced to the bathroom, receiving another round of looks from two teenage girls upon entering.

"Brooklyn!" I yelled.

She walked out of a stall, a surprised look on her face, "Mikey, what are you–"

"Don't. I saw you...where is it?"

She pressed her lips together tightly. "I didn't..."

"Prove it,"

Tears rolled down her cheeks. "What do you want from me?" she asked, pulling up her sleeves, a single fresh wound standing out on her pale skin.

"Jesus Brooklyn," I mumbled, taking her arm in my hands and inspecting it.

She shook herself from my grip. "I think I should just go, you don't need this." She went to walk away but I stopped her.

"Brooklyn are you fucking kidding me? Let's go to my house, we'll clean you up okay?" I took her hand and tried to lead her out of the bathroom.

"Mikey, let's be realistic, just for a minute. What do you really plan to do? Monitor me for the rest of my life?"

Confusion overwhelmed me with every word that left her lips. "Brooklyn, I want to help."

She sighed, her frustration clear, "No one can help me..."

I dropped her hand. "You know, I was going to drink...but I couldn't because I knew you would be upset."

Tears formed in her eyes, and she folded her arms across her chest.

"I thought maybe...you'd think about me..."

The tears made their way down her cheeks.

"Forget it." I said, walking out of the washroom, and to my car. I hastily lit up a cigarette. Brooklyn soon after exited the restaurant, avoiding eye contact, and walked down the street.
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A/N: Okay, so I'm going to fucking give up on this right away... so yeah...
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