Breakfast is served.
I looked up at the slats of the bed above me and remembered Julia. I had put her in another room, though, I thought as I began climbing out of bed, noticing the guy sweat pants I was wearing to cover up my legs. I felt cold underneath the sweats, and I frowned as I felt no underwear on. “So I was raped…” I muttered, standing up to a full height of 5’11’’ and looking at Julia sleeping, all pain off her face.
Julia muttered something under her breath and her eyelids fluttered, and I sighed, brushing her short hair out of her face. “Julia,” I cooed, not wanting to alarm her at the fact that she was moved from one bed to another, most likely not without something in between. “Julia, wake up,” I said, lightly tapping her nose.
Julia jolted awake, her eyes wide and nervous, darting around the room, but relaxed just a little when they saw my face. “Rachael, what’d he do to you?” she asked, mumbling sleepily and blinking to wake up.
I sighed again, shaking my head. “I don’t remember, Julia. I mean, he told me to put this on,” I picked up the shoulder of the oversized blue shirt with my index finger and thumb, “and then I draw blanks. I don’t remember a thing, but something must have happened, shouldn’t it?”
Julia’s face grew a little tense. “I don’t know, Rachael. All I know is I’m scared for my life and what this man’s going to do.”
“I do have a name, you know,” Gerard’s voice popped out of nowhere, making me jump and Julia to scream a little. He opened the door to the room and stepped in, Julia breathing heavily and me trying to calm down. Gerard was wearing a black pair of jeans over a Smashing Pumpkin’s band shirt, his hair combed back and up a little, his teeth white, and his eyes shining. “It’s Gerard Way, Julia.”
Julia nodded, still looking scared. “Okay, Gerard.”
Gerard nodded and smiled, looking sincere. “So who wants breakfast?” he asked, clapping his hands together once. I looked at him, confused. “Oh c’mon, you Johnny rain clouds, you’re telling me you’re not hungry?”
I heard my stomach growl at the mention of food, and I remembered the last thing I ate was yesterday morning, a single piece of toast. “No no no no, that’s not what we’re saying. We’re both very hungry,” I said quickly, raising my hands and shaking them around. “We would both appreciate it, if you don’t mind, of course.”
Gerard smirked and nodded. “Of course. You need to get dressed in order to eat though.”
Julia spoke up. “What are we going to dress in?” she asked meekly, still laying down on the top bunk, probably trying to hide what Gerard has already seen and been over. I shiver slightly at the thought, Julia already 12 and virginity lost.
“Ah, yes, clothes,” Gerard said, nodding and looking at the ground contemplatively. “Can you wear your clothes from yesterday for this day only? We’ll have to go to the store and buy some clothes for you guys, seeing as this is your new home,” he said, chilling me to the bone whenever he said ‘your new home’, as if we had a choice.
Julia and I nodded, and Gerard smiled brightly. “Good. Rachael, can you bring Julia to the kitchen when you’re dressed so she can get some food?” he asked, looking at me with his head tilted up and to the right slightly, eyebrows raised. “I’m sure she’s hungry, too.”
I gulped and nodded, wondering what will happen to the food Gerard’s going to make. As I remember from all the My Chemical Romance interviews I’ve seen, he’s not the best cook in the world. Well, at least he’s not Mikey, I thought as Gerard walked out of the room, counting things off his fingers. I sighed when I could no longer hear his footsteps and looked around the room for my clothes, my last bit of my old life.
My clothes were sitting on a rocking horse by a floor-to-ceiling window, and as Julia climbed down tentatively from the top bunk bed, I ambled over to the rocking horse and the window. Pulling back the curtain, I peered outside. It was light, but a thick fog was sitting right outside the window, making things impossible to see. A hopeless case, Rachael.
I sighed and went into a little bathroom that branched off the bedroom, flipping the light switch on and shutting the door. I quickly pulled my clothes on, noting the hairbrush on the counter with the sink. I snatched it off the counter and ran it through my long hair, trying to get the snarls and tangles out without ripping half my head off. I finished in a record time of thirty seconds and ran out of the bathroom, not wanting anything to happen to Julia while I was in the bathroom, enclosed with walls and a door. Julia had taken a seat on the rocking horse, side-saddling it and slowly rocking back and forth, staring into space.
“Julia, c’mon, we need something to eat if we’re ever going to be found alive,” I said, and Julia looked up at me with big, scared eyes. I sighed again and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “We need food, Julia. The last thing we had was yesterday morning, and god knows how long we’ve slept.”
Julia nodded noiselessly and followed me out the door as I walked into the hallway connecting this little section of the house with the main part of the house. As I walked past doors, open and closed alike, Julia would peer at or into them, trying to grasp how big this house is. “Wow, this house is big, Rachael,” Julia said as we neared the kitchen.
I nodded and sniffed the air. “Bacon…” I half mumbled, half relished, and hurried into the kitchen where a short man wearing black skinny jeans and a faded red shirt was standing. I looked at him curiously, examining his black hair cut into a shaggy style, his 5’4’’ stature, his tattoos on his arms and knuckles, and his green eyes looking at me.
“Good morning, Rachael and Julia. Care for some breakfast?” Frank Iero asked, smiling at Julia and I and motioning to the kitchen. “I’ve got the bacon cooking and bread toasting, the pancakes ready, and I’m about to start the eggs.”
Julia inched next to me as Frank talked. “Rachael, who’s this?” she asked quietly, staring at Frank with worry and fear. Poor Julia, I thought as I walked over to a round table set up with seven sets of dinnerware. She doesn’t know anybody.
I knit my eyebrows, sitting at one of the spots. “That’s Frank Iero, Julia, and judging by the placemats, Ray Toro, Bob Bryar, and Mikey Way are here too…” I trailed, blinking back tears as I thought of how much Julia and I were going to go through.
Julia’s eyes widened at me, pure fear swimming within them. “You used to call me Mikey, Rachael… You’re telling me My Chemical Romance is here?!” she asked, shocked.
Frank walked over to the table, carrying a glass pitcher of orange juice and seven glasses. “You know it, Julia. Rachael, can you pass these out?” he asked, handing the glasses to me and setting the pitcher on the tabletop.
I stood up and walked around the table, setting each glass in the same spot on the table, two inches away from the plate, and straightened up the silverware. Rachael, this is hilarious. The whole band of MCR is here, and you’re scared because Gerard raped you and Julia so far, one night in. Well, this is just peachy, they’ll get to have fun with Julia and I, and she doesn’t even know who the hell My Chemical romance is, I thought angrily, setting a glass down with a little force, the glass ringing and knocking against the table.
Frank coughed and Julia and I both turned towards him. “Is sunny side up okay with you guys?” he asked, looking at us with eyes that said ‘You have no choice, you’re getting these and you’re going to eat these.’
I bit my cheek and nodded, Julia watching me and doing the same. Frank smiled and turned back to the stove, cracking two eggs at a time and dropping the insides of the eggs into a frying pan. I sighed and sat down, wondering why My Chemical Romance kidnapped my sister and I. I leaned back in my chair and stared up at the tin paneled ceilings, looking at the design.
“Morning, Frank, Rachael, and Julia,” a voice said, making Julia grab my wrist and my head to snap forward to look at Mikey Way smiling brightly at Julia and I. “How’s life?”
I groaned inwardly and narrowed my eyes slightly at Mikey, noting his sideburns and ducktail, his white shirt that looked oversized, and his grey skinny jeans. “It’s been better, Mikey, but I guess it’s okay since we have the smells of breakfast wafting to our nostrils,” I said, forcing myself to smile.
Mikey smiled back at me and took one of the spots at the far side of the table. “That’s good… How was the drive home yesterday?”
Julia tightened her grip on my wrist as I gritted my teeth. “The most comfortable and contented car ride Julia and I have ever experienced in our days so far in life. Thank you for asking, Mikey,” I said, trying to make my voice not sound angry or annoyed. Rachael, stop with the proper English. It’s a dead giveaway that you’re pissed.
Mikey nodded as Frank brought a whole plate of sunny side up eggs and a stack of pancakes to the table. “Rachael, can you go get the syrup, jam, butter, and the toast from the counter?” he asked, looking at me and raising his eyebrows a look I seem to be getting a lot here.
I took a breath and nodded, willing myself not to get cocky just because I recognized the guys. I stepped over through the kitchen to the plate of toast with the other items sitting around it, and I picked up all up in one scoop, my hands and arms full. The jar of raspberry jam was slippery and cold in my arm, gathering condensation and slipping out of my arm. I gasped as it fell and shut my eyes as it shattered, echoing through the deathly quiet kitchen. I opened one eye to see Ray Toro shaking his head, Frank frowning, Mikey scowling with a gleam in his eyes, and Julia looking from Ray to me, scared for me and worried about the new man.
“Rachael, Rachael, Rachel….” Gerard’s voice purred as he stepped through a door from behind me, me whipping around to look him in the face, suddenly scared and confused. “That’s a whole jar of jam on the floor… You might as well clean it up.”
I nodded furiously, looking around the room for a mop or something. I didn’t see one and sighed, shutting my eyes to stop the tears. I squatted to the ground and began picking up the glass shards from the tile floor, placing them in my hand and biting my lip. The jam was leaving red stains on my hands, stains that reminded me of blood. I bit my lip and stood up, wondering what the hell I do now. I looked at the guys, pleading with my eyes to tell me what to do.
Frank smirked. “Under the sink are two recycling bins. Put the glass in one and take the spoiled jam to the trash in cabinet next to it.”
I nodded, looking down and scuttling to the sink, where indeed two pullout cabinet drawers with French handles sat, set under the counter. I frowned a little and took a silent breath in, shifting all the glass into my right hand and wiping the other on my jeans. I opened the drawer on the left, hoping it was a glass recycling bin. It was plastic. I bit my lip harder, shutting the drawer and opening the other. My right hand twitched, like it normally does when I’m nervous, and a number of shards of glass cut into my skin, making me cry out in pain and the sight of blood. I picked the glass carefully out of my right hand with my left and dropped it into the bin, disappearing amid beer bottles and a few empty jars. I pulled a piece or two out of my hand, my hand only bleeding more.
I shut the drawer and stood up, putting my bleeding hand over the sink and turning on the faucet. The water felt cool against my hand, but hurt like hell against the cuts. I hissed as the cuts kept bleeding, the water not helping to stop the bleeding.
A pair of hands gripped my shoulders lightly, and I felt my breath hitch as I turned and saw clean knuckles. The person didn’t feel very tall, and looked like they had thin hands. I let out a small bit of breath, thinking it was Mikey, but then the voice to the person spoke.
“Come, you need bandages,” Gerard’s voice said, right by my ear, chilling me to my bone. I gulped down the lump of fear and tears in my throat, looking at my sister with wide eyes. She was biting her lip and fiddling with her hands, looking at me, scared by Frank, Mikey, and Ray. I bit my lip and nodded, still looking at my sister, who looked like she was going to cry. Gerard tugged my away from the sink, turning the water off, and lead me away from the kitchen, away from Julia and the guys, minus Bob. I looked down at the ground and my bare feet shuffling along, noting the little shards of glass in my feet.
“You’re going to be punished, you realize that, Rachael?” Gerard asked, breaking the awkward silence and leading me towards his bedroom. I shut my eyes and nodded, willing myself not to cry. I didn’t want to be raped, Julia sitting in the kitchen with Ray, Frank, and Mikey, probably Bob soon. I frowned, knowing Bob and his stature would scare her. “Not right now, though. Later. Punishment never comes before a meal,” Gerard said, sounding sincere and sorry, scaring me with his tone.
“Thank you,” I whispered, opening my eyes as Gerard took my through his bedroom into a dark bathroom, the room that I thought was a closet. It was large enough to have our footsteps echo, though, mine slapping against the floor and Gerard’s thoughtlessly tapping. Gerard let go of my shoulders and flipped a switch, lights turning on and Gerard opening one door on a wall of cabinets. He dug around in the open cabinet for a second, coming out with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a bundle of gauze, cotton balls, and a pair of surgical tweezers. I looked down at my feet, bleeding on the white tile flood. I sighed and shut my eyes, rubbing my right arm with my left hand.
Gerard whistled and I flinched, opening my eyes and looking up at him. “You need to sit if you’re going to get the glass out of your foot, Rachael,” he said, standing by a straight-backed chair. I nodded and walked over, initial shock of the jar dropping finally wearing off and the pain in my foot noticeable. I sat down in the chair and looked at my hands, automatically folding in my lap. I looked at Gerard, who was standing at a white marble counter, unwrapping the gauze and pouring some of the peroxide on a cotton ball. He walked over to me and squatted a little, placing the cotton ball on one of the cuts in my hand. “You’re free to talk, you know.”
I nodded, biting my lip at the dull pain in my foot and hand. “I’m normally this quiet,” I lied through my teeth. Normally, I was at the mall with my friends, slurping low-fat smoothies and window shopping, helping a friend with their choices and talking a mile a minute.
Gerard chuckled quietly and smiled, looking at me with his hazel eyes that I normally looked into on the computer when imagining a live show. “Mhmm, and I was born yesterday,” he said, looking back down at my hand, which had lost the blood on it but not the jam stains. “You can always talk at home, Rach. Is that okay? Can I call you Rach?”
I bit my cheek and nodded slowly, wondering what would happen if I said no. A whole scenario played through my mind, something hard to imagine since I hadn’t had something happen to me yet that I remembered. I ran my right hand through my hair, letting out a shaky breath. “I trusted you,” I whispered, inaudible to me.
“Hmm?” Gerard asked, looking up at me while he walked over to the counter, returning with gauze. “What was that?”
I looked at him, eyes wide. “Nothing, Gerard, I said nothing. Nothing at all. Not to worry, I’m silent,” I stuttered quickly, scared at what would happen if I talked more. I bit my lip and looked down, shutting my eyes and wishing this was all just a bad dream that I would wake up out of. Maybe you just feinted by the fountain, Rachael, my conscious spoke up. Maybe you’re imagining this all. I shook my head ever so slightly, knowing I wasn’t that big of a fan girl to imagine myself getting kidnapped by My Chemical Romance. Besides, I told my conscious, Julia wouldn’t be here if that were true.
“Rach, you need to talk. Get things off your chest,” Gerard said, using a term I never liked. I mean, my chest meant my breasts, and I was always getting stares for those two fairly large reasons down below. I reached my left hand up to play with the cross necklace I always wore, covering myself up in the process.
“I have nothing to talk about, Gerard,” I said quietly, thumbing the wooden cross and staring at the marble floor, but not though. “My old life wasn’t exactly the most exciting.”
Gerard smirked. “Poppycock. When you getting into the car yesterday, you were waving at a whole group of people and saying you would see them later. Oh the irony…” he said, trailing and sickening the smirk a little. “You also didn’t look too happy at your sister, Julia.”
I sighed, biting my lip and not wanting to talk. “Shikata ga nai,” I said, blinking at the ground. Why couldn’t Gerard just move to my foot already?
Gerard stood with the remaining gauze, my hand wrapped up. “’It is what it is.’ Nice one,” he said, going to the counter and pouring more peroxide on a cotton ball and grabbing the surgical tweezers. “Any hobbies?”
I looked up at Gerard, confused. “What?”
“Do you have any hobbies, Rach?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow with a look that demanded me to speak. I looked down at the floor quickly, avoiding Gerard’s gaze.
“I like to write and play French horn…” I said quietly, watching Gerard kneel down to my foot through my bangs and eyelashes. “I also liked listening to music loud…”
“Oh, really?” Gerard asked, looking up at me with big eyes and a bored expression within them. “What kind of music?”
“Uhh…” I said, racking my brain for a way to put it without letting Gerard know I loved My Chemical Romance. "People call it emo music…”
“Emo music? Like what?” Gerard’s eyes were burning into my brown ones, daring me to say the name of the answer he already knew.
I sighed. “My Chemical Romance,” I mumbled, looking at my hands folded in my lap again.
“What was that, Rach? I didn’t quite hear you,” Gerard said, putting a hand up to his ear and opening his eyes wide, still looking at me.
I shut my eyes. “My Chemical Romance, Gerard Way. I listened to you guys and liked it,” I said boldly, opening my eyes and glaring at my hands. Gerard was making me angrier by the minute with his questions and how he took me away from my family and now Julia…
Gerard let out a breathy chuckle, beginning to pull out small shards of glass in my foot out, dabbing the area around them with the peroxide. “How’d we do on the Black Parade? I always thought we toured too long, but the guys wanted to go even longer…” he said, trailing off and pulling one shard out with excessive force, making me cry out a little in pain and bite my lip. “But then I saw you and your sister. I showed the guys, and we all agreed to end touring and take you in.”
I looked up at Gerard, pure hatred in my eyes. “You make me sick,” I said, resisting the urge to spit in Gerard’s face. “I used to love My Chemical Romance, I used to listen to you and sing along with every word, even the songs I didn’t like, but here I am with my sister, kidnapped and probably not going to make it out alive.”
Gerard smiled at me, looking sincerely sorry. “You’ll make it out alive, Rachael, don’t worry. Do you even know why you’re here?”
I gritted my teeth. “No, Gerard, but please, do enlighten me on the reason why,” I said, mentally kicking myself for using proper English.
Gerard smiled wider. “You have such a lovely voice,” he cooed, his eyes glazing over just a little bit. He snapped out of his funk and looked at me, a change in his eyes and tone. “You’re here because the guys and I care for you, and we couldn’t stand seeing you suffer with your parents. They were crushing you, Rachael, and you needed to let your spirit out. Tell me, is it true that you often harmed yourself, like so many people in the world who don’t want to admit it?”
“Shut up!” I yelled, looking at Gerard with anger and tears. “Just shut up, please!” I pleaded, putting my head in my hands. “Just shut up,” I mumbled, crying.
Gerard stood up with a rustle of cloth and put a hand on my shoulder. “Rachael, is it true that you cut yourself?” he asked, making me cry harder.
“Just… Please… Stop…” I managed to strangle out between sobs. I leaned back in the chair, putting my head on the top rung of the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling and crying, my eyes closed. “I never wanted to… It just happened one night…”
Gerard pulled me into a hug, shushing me and sounding like my father used to. I cried harder, not making a sound. The tears just poured from my eyes and I couldn’t stop them, even with something good in my life happening. “Rachael, you don’t have to worry about that here. You’ll be all right,” Gerard said, making me cry harder, if possible. It’s not going to be all right, Rachael, my conscious told me. It’s not going to be o-fucking-kay.
I looked at Gerard. “I used to like My Chemical Romance, Gerard, but you’re all a bunch of sick psychotic freaks who believe you can just take sisters and expect them to open their hearts to a bunch of soulless monsters!” I said, pushing Gerard away from me. I shook my head. “You’re sick…” I said, backing away from Gerard out of the chair. “You’re so sick…”
Gerard stood up and looked at me. “Don’t worry, Rachael, everything’s going to be fine…”
“You’re… You… I looked up to you!” I yelled, storming out of the room, stampeding to the library, which was luckily on this side of the house, not past the kitchen. I fumed with each step, my breath short and hot. How dare he! I thought. Expecting a heart-warming session when he’s the rapist kidnapper!
I heard Julia scream and my eyes went wide, angry forgotten and worry replacing it. “Julia!” I yelled, breaking into a sprint for the kitchen. Around furniture and past door I ran, getting ever so closer to the kitchen. I slid through the door, to see Julia laughing, Bob Bryar sitting at the table, and the rest of the guys laughing too. “Julia?” I asked, walking over, confused.
Julia looked up at me and smiled. “Hey, Rachael. Frank, Ray, Mikey, and Bob were just telling me about the last tour, weren’t you, guys?” she told me then looked at the guys, all nodding and smiling. I nodded, sitting down at my previous spot, Julia sitting to my left and Frank sitting to my right.
“How’s your hand?” Frank asked quietly as Mikey started telling stories about a portable heater and a shower on a cold day. Everybody else was listening, the guys watching Mikey closely and Julia actually looking happy for the first time in this hell of a house.
I looked at Frank, taking in his worried face and his concerned hazel eyes. Nothing there said anything about planned kidnapping, just concern for a guest in the house. I sighed. “Is it true that Gerard asked you guys about Julia and I being kidnapped and brought here?” I asked him, pondering what the answer might be.
Frank looked at me with confusion, his mouth dropping open ever so slightly. “What?” he asked, looking shocked. “What?” he asked again, getting increasingly worried. “Gerard told me you guys were visiting, your names, and that you could help around the house! Nobody ever told me that you guys were kidnapped, especially not Gerard!” he whispered heatedly. Frank bit his lip, looking away and ever so slightly shaking his head. “I always knew he’d crack…”
I'm so sorry for the long update, it was either this, continued actually, or I cut it here or shorter. I chose the latter, and here I am. To those who think this is good: I don't know, this is all coming out of my head now though. The first chapter was the dream, and this is the following. Good luck reading the 4k+ words.