Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance

Runaway Double

by smilecyclown 5 reviews

When a set of twins stows away on the MCR tour bus, what happens when they're found? (xx_eddi_xx and lolhai collabo)

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Warnings: [V] [X] [R] - Published: 2011-06-04 - Updated: 2011-06-05 - 2450 words

0Unrated
*Mason*

Slap shove punch kick. That’s the beat to the beatdowns, the soundtrack to our lives. Whoever said that abuse is for the poor trashy kids is fucking full of shit.

Dad has me by my shoulders, eyes locked on mine. “You’re fucking worthless, you know that? A fucking embarrassment. Where the fuck is my quarterback? You dance around like a faggot in that goddam basement every waking fucking hour of the day. No son of mine is gonna be some fruity ass-munching queer!”

I stay quiet, because talking just gets you into more trouble than necessary. He’ll go away soon and I can go back to my life.

Just as expected, my father does leave to go to work. This is how he likes his mornings when it‘s summertime: wake up, shower, coffee, smack around the kids, go to work.

Mom comes down the stairs, expressionless. I hand her the plain pink coffee cup that is hers, and she just ignores me otherwise. There are bruises on her neck that she didn’t cover with make-up. I pretend not to notice.

“Go wake up your sister,” she tells me quietly, picking up her purse and heading out the door.

I sip my black coffee, trying to get the bastard sperm donor of mine to get his voice out of my ringing ears by mentally reciting “Jabberwocky” from Through the Looking Glass.

After my joe is gone, I give a great sigh and start upwards to the upper level of the house.

“Bailey,” I call through the sticker-covered door. “Mom said get your ass out of bed.”

There’s a lot of rustling around. That’s extremely weird. She’s not usually out of bed until at least noon.
“Bailey?” I peek inside.

My twin sister is fully dressed in the usual plethora of fabulous that she gallivants around in (today, it’s a pair of bright red leggings, a short black skirt, and a tight white tee) and is attempting to stuff nine pairs of jeans into her backpack.

“What are you doing?”

Bailey whips around, eyes wide. “Are they gone?”

“Yeah, what are you doing? You ditching me?” It’s only half intended as a joke.

“No. You’re coming with me.”

Cue the expression that is similar to one you’d find on the face of someone watching an alien give birth. “Huh?”

She picks up my backpack, which I haven’t touched in a month (it’s July, we don’t go back to school for a while), and tosses it to me. “I packed you some clothes. Your dancing stuff is in there too.”

“What’s going on? What did I miss?”

“We’re getting out!” she snaps, as if I’m an idiot for not reading her fucking mind. “We’re leaving this place!”

“But Bailey--”

She drops all the stuff in her hands and turns around, hands on her hips.

“What?”

“Why are we leaving?”

My sister stares at me, giving me that “you’re a fucking idiot” look once more. “You just got the shit beat out of you, and you’re asking me why we’re leaving?”

“I’m not stupid as to why you want to go, but what set you off? This isn’t a new thing, Bailey.”

She slowly inhales and exhales, attempting to calm down before she murders me. “Mason, just pretend that the way he hurts you is the way he hurts me. Grab your shit.”

God…I knew our dad was an asshole, but I didn’t think he would…fuck…

“Are you okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned.

“Let’s not talk about it. Go to the safe and take out about five thousand dollars.”

The safe? Is she on crack? “Bailey, I don’t know the fucking combination to the safe!”

“It’s his fucking birthday.”

“What’s his birthday?”

“Mason, you didn’t seriously just ask me this.”

“I seriously have no idea when his birthday is. I fucking hate the man, why should I celebrate his birth?”

“I’m not asking you to celebrate it, I’m just--” Bailey stops, breathes. “12, 13, 80.”

So much easier than calling me a jackass. I slip through the hallway and to our father’s office. Why couldn’t she do this herself?

Three times around to the 12, two times left to the 13, the to the right for 80. Open the little door and--
“Fucking Christ on a crutch.”

There are stacks upon stacks of the green stuff. Fucking hell, man. I take two of the bundles, slamming the safe shut once more.

“Hey, Bailey?”

“What?” she calls from downstairs.

I follow the sound of her voice, the money feeling heavy in my hands. I honestly had no idea that our daddy dearest kept stacks like this in the house.

My sister’s shoving as many bags of snack cakes and vacuum-sealed foods into her duffel bag as possible. She tosses some bottles of water in her bag, too.

“You gonna stare or you gonna give me those?”

I hand over the money, sweeping my hair out of my eyes. “So…we’re really doing this?”

“Now’s not the time to play dumb, little brother.”

“You’re older by seven minutes! Seven!”

She doesn’t respond, breaking the stack of cash into a few differently sized portions. She hands a smaller one to me, keeps another small one for her own pocket, and tucks the rest into her backpack.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

“If I’m gonna be there, I want to know where!”

She takes something from her pocket, shoves it into my hands, picks up her bags.

“Read and walk, Mason. Move your ass!” She gives said ass a little kick and I take my backpack from her and tug it on.

…a pair of backstage passes? For…is she serious?

Now it’s my turn to give my sister the “you’re a dumbfuck” look, standing on the threshold of the front door.

She snaps at me, “Let’s go!”

“Your plan is to hang out with My Chemical fucking Romance?” I scoff in disbelief. “I thought we were running away!”

“We are! Why do I have to tell you the entirety of my plan?”

“Because it’d be nice if I were a little fucking clued in here!”

She yanks on my hand, slams the door shut, leads me down the street.

“Bailey?” I ask, now entirely deadpan.

She sighs. “All you’ve gotta do is follow my lead.”

“You can’t at least tell me something?”

“No. Now shut up. They’re due to arrive in the city in less than an hour and we need to locate them.”

*

The passes (as well as saying whose children we are) get us complete access to everywhere.
And I mean EVERYWHERE: dressing rooms, backstage, after-parties, and--apparently--the fucking tour bus.

Bailey and I manage to sneak past security while someone goes to take a piss. We open up the storage compartments on the lower part of the bus and my sister orders me to get inside.

“We are not--”

“We fucking are! Get your scrawny ass in there, twinkle toes!”

“That’s fucking mean!”

“He’s coming back!” She shoves me inside, shutting the door. I hear her get into the compartment next to mine.

There’s a couple of luggage bags in here with me. It’s quite cramped.

If I were an emoticon, I’d look like this --> -_-

She didn’t just convince me to do this. Fucking bitch. ( -grumbles grumbles grumbles- )

The bus starts to move after what feels like hours.

I fall asleep, which is no small feat, due to the bumping around this bus is doing. Who the fuck is driving this thing ?! A small angry Asian man?! (no offense to Asians)


*Bailey*

The bus stopped after what was probably only a few hours but felt like days. It’s pretty damn hard to sleep through screeching brakes blasting right next to your fucking ear. I listened and heard soft snoring, so I banged on the wall that separated me and Mason. I heard him squirm around. Damn these walls were thin, and probably plywood or plastic or something.
I tried to open the door, only to realize they were locked on the inside. Fucking damnit… I had forgotten to check and see if we would be able to get out right away, and now we were stuck. I felt it move above me as the people who were inside got out, and I heard voices soon after. Male voices. The one thing I hadn’t thought about? Getting caught inside the bus. The idea was to slip out before they could find us, but I hadn’t counted on the fucking luggage area thing being locked on the fucking inside.

I heard more voices, this time they were female. I guessed it was several women and what I thought was a couple of teenagers. I heard feet walk over to the luggage compartments, and there was the sound of a key being shoved into the lock. The lock clicked and my eyes were burned with the sudden appearance of the sun. I shut my eyes, my eyes in pain from going without the sun for the past few hours. There was utter silence for a few seconds before a teenage girl spoke in a voice that was clearly confused.

“Dad? What’s she doing here?” The voice asked. I rolled over a little to escape the blinding light that we call the sun, and ended up falling out of the luggage closet thing and made the foot and a half drop to the ground. The voices fell silent and I wrestled my eyes open, trying to not go off into a long list of choice words as I realized I had fallen right at the feet of a teenage girl who was quite tall, at least taller than me but I’m a fucking midget. She was wearing this shocked expression.

I scrambled up and opened Mason’s compartment, and he fell out, albeit more gracefully than I did. His hair was sticking up everywhere like is usually does, and I noticed for the first time the bruises on his face and neck before realizing I probably had the same marks on me. I reached over and tried to smooth his hair down while the people behind us snapped out of their shock and began to walk towards us. I gave up on a battle I wasn’t going to win and turned around to see four irritated men and four equally annoyed women, as well as four perplexed teenage girls. I hid myself behind Mason as best I could.
“What the fuck are you doing?” One of them said, his cherry red hair moving in the breeze a little. That was Gerard, and I felt myself becoming even more self-conscious than I usually was around people I don’t know. One of the few times I get caught outside of home doing something I shouldn’t have been doing, and it HAD to be My Chemical Romance that caught me. Fucking perfect.

Mason began to tell them how we were running away when Alicia pulled Mikey aside, a little distance away from the others. They began to discuss something, and I hoped it didn’t involve the police. When Mason finished I noticed the looks on everyone’s faces had softened a bit. Mikey and Alicia walked back over.

“What happened to your face and neck?” the tall teenage girl asked, and I realized she must be Bandit, Gerard and Lindsey’s daughter. She had definitely inherited her looks from both, and she was super pretty, as were all of the girls, I felt a little weird in thinking that, but it’s not that weird for one girl to think other girls are pretty, is it?

I noticed my hand had drifted up to cover the bruises on my neck and Mason was looking down. He was the one who responded.

“This is what you get for not being who our father wants us to be, for being independent and unafraid to do what we love,” he said, his voice going low, soft, and expressionless. “That’s why we ran away, so that fucking bastard couldn’t hurt us anymore.” I put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Things were quiet for a few seconds before Bandit spoke up.

“I’m Bandit, by the way.” Mason looked back up.

“I’m Mason and this is my twin sister Bailey,” he said, his voice going back to normal. I saw the twin girls look at each other with the identical smile on their faces. They all introduced themselves, and I learned the other girls were Cherry, Lily and Grace. It was easy to tell that Cherry and Lily were Frank and Jamia’s kids, they had their mother’s eyes and their father’s smile, and Grace had Ray’s hair and overall looks.

The adults all walked off to discuss what they were going to do, leaving us with their kids. They all began asking Mason a bunch of questions, as I was still partially hiding behind him. He answered their questions patiently while I got out bags out of the luggage hole, dumping them onto the ground.

The adults came back after a few more minutes, but by then the girls had convinced Mason to show them some of his dance moves.

I swear to God he’s like a fucking gazelle when he dances, he can get his ass up really high when he jumps. Of course, me being the total opposite of athletic and graceful, was easily impressed by people with even the smallest amount of talent in those areas. I remember when we were younger and he had just discovered that dancing was his true passion. When Dad was done hitting us we’d both go to the basement and he’d dance and I’d watch. It had a hypnotizing effect when I was much younger, but now I spent most of my time holed up in my room and he spent all of his free time in the basement dancing.

Everyone watched him dance for a few minutes before Gerard spoke.

“We have a proposal for you guys.”


there we are! first chapter. wasn't too painful, now was it? XD

rate and review, if you would be so kind.

(also, I, xx_eddi_xx, write the Mason bits, lolhai writes the Bailey bits. just fyi.)

--♥
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