Imogen meets the family.
As Imogen sat down, stifling sob after sob, the woman thrust a warm cup of tea into her hands, her face painted in sorrow. "I'm Lindsey," she said softly, clutching her own drink. "I'm sorry I made you wait in the cold back there, my husband and our friends were in here.. we were celebrating Christmas together. I just shooed them into the other room."
A wave of guilt swept over Imogen, building heavily on top of her sorrow and pain. "Oh, I'm sorry.. I-I didn't realize.. I didn't e-even know it was C-Christmas.. I mean.. I'm i-intruding.." Imogen spluttered, the loss of her mother absorbing her in a deep abyss of pain.
"Honey, it's not Christmas. It's the 20th. We do this every year.." Lindsey placed a warm, pale hand on Imogen's frosten knee. "Where's your family?" she asked softly.
Imogen sniffed and took a long sip of her tea, allowing it to warm her insides. "My brother's deceased, and apparently so is my mum. My dad.. I-I don't like to talk about him."
Lindsey's beautiful face softened dramatically, if that was possible, and sympathy took structure on her smooth features. "Too painful?" she asked.
"Something like that," Imogen mumbled. Then, she straightened herself, put down the drink and stood up. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean.. I mean.. I didn't want to intrude. I really didn't. I'm so sorry, have a nice night."
Before Lindsey could protest, Imogen was out in the hallway, pulling on her wet, frosty Coverse. She didn't care that she could become ill, or that her hoody was so wet she could catch Frostbite. Okay, maybe not that extreme..
The voice was masculine and smooth, smothered with a thick Jersey accent. Imogen knew the voice so well... So, as she turned around to look behind her, you can imagine her shock when she saw Gerard Way.
"G-Gerard?!" she said, rubbing her eyes as if she didn't believe them, as if they were wrong.
Gerard smiled softly, but as he took in the sight of her already-ill looking and soaking wet figure, he frowned. "I can see why Lindsey got me. You look dreadful..."
Imogen looked down to herself and her sagging clothes, then back up to Gerard with a small smile. "I'm wrecking the floor," she said. "I knew I recognized Lindsey from somewhere, it just took me a while.."
Now Gerard smiled. "The floor's fine," he said.
"No it's not. It'll warp and I'll feel like shit. Oh, fuck.. I was meant to be.. I mean.. Leaving. I'm sorry for interrupting... I was just looking for my mum," she laughed sadly. But, her heart, no matter how cliche it may seem, cracked in final realization.
She couldn't control it.
Her knees caved beneath her and she fell to the floor with a bang, shuddering in deep, desperate, echoing sobs as her heart bent and wretched painfully. "S-she's actually gone! A-and I n-never even met h-her!" Imogen spluttered, red eyes buried in the palms of her hands as she shook violently, tears rolling down her cheeks, nose sniffing.
It wasn't just about her mother. No one could probably realize that - it seemed like that was all it was. Anyone probably thought she was overreacting, but she wasn't, because Imogen had also just lost her shot at happiness, her shot at a real life. And that wasn't an opportunity that came around everyday for people like her.
As she sobbed, tears making wet tracks down her pale cheeks, Imogen realized her dad probably sent out one of his men to look for her by now. But Imogen didn't want to be found, she really didn't. She simply couldn't go back to a life of pain and torture, helping her dad do..
She shivered, suddenly hearing more footsteps crowding around her. Heaps of them. They were followed by several curses and exclamations. Two strong pairs of arms wrapped around Imogen and helped her up from the floor, and Gerard's voice whispered in her ear, "We're not letting you go out there like this."
Then she was practically tugged, due to Imogen's protesting of 'intruding' as she cried, up the stairs and lead into the guest bedroom. That's when she opened her eyes and was met by the two concerned faces of Frank Iero and Gerard Way.
A bubble of laughter escaped her.
"Okay," she laughed, almost manically. But could anyone blame her? It was a surprise she hadn't already lost her sanity. "I'm dreaming.. I'm dreaming.. First I escape my dad, whom is the reincarnation of Hitler and Satan combined, then I travel to New Jersey and somehow end up on the doorstep of the wrong house, which belongs to Gerard fucking Way, and then I find out my mum died and I'm practically being shoved into a bedroom in said house by Frank Iero and Gerard Way.." Imogen laughed again. It was an exhausted, lifeless sound, yet at the same time, it was sarcastic.
Frank's frown was heavier than Gerard's. "You're not dreaming, kiddo. This is reality."
Imogen's smirk dropped. Her stomach clenched painfully and swirled in nausea as her head pounded. "I-I'm not? Because that would make this whole situation a whole lot easier," she said. Imogen hugged her knees after kicking her Converse back off and shook her head slowly, rocking back and forth. "My mum's not dead.. she was.. I mean.. I can't go back to him!" she cried, fresh tears pouring over the edges of her eyes.
Frank was first to absorb her in a hug. "You'll be okay. It'll be okay.." he hushed.
Gerard joined their hug.
The three sat there like that: two grown men hugging a fifteen year old as she poured her life's worth of pain and sorrow out of her eyes, releasing her bound heart and soul with each teardrop. They sat together for twenty minutes, the two men 'shhing' and comforting the poor girl as her heart finally broke...
And the wounds could start to heal.