A glimpse of realization and giving up eternally.
After clothes were shoved into her hands and she was pushed into the shower, Imogen crawled out of what had been labeled 'her room' for the time being, and padded softly down the stairs.
She still didn't quite understand why they wanted to help her, or invited her into their house, but she had to admit that she was grateful. Very grateful, in fact. But she simply couldn't understand why. Of course, she knew My Chemical Romance and their goals, how they wanted to help people.. but it was.. well, a little extreme. She didn't even mean to show up on their doorstep, it just.. happened. So why was she feeling guilty about it?
As Imogen made her way into the lounge, the soft muttering that she heard from the stairs died completely, and she was met by several familiar faces: Frank Iero, Jamia Iero, Gerard Way, Lindsey Way, Ray Toro, Crista Toro, Mikey Way and Alicia Way.
"They fit," Imogen stated weakly. Her voice was disconnected, lifeless.
Lindsey nodded and smiled. "They fit well, actually. Do you want anything to eat or drink?" she asked kindly, along with everyone else who nodded enthusiastically.
Imogen's mouth was practically watering, but she shook her head and let her dark hair fall in front of her face. "No, thank you," she declined.
Alicia frowned heavily. "You need to eat, honey.." she said.
Imogen shrugged. "We all need a lot of things, but what you ask is not always given and what you choose is not always your desire," she said. Then Imogen stared down to her sock-clad feet and sighed. "I.. I am sorry for intruding.. and breaking down.. and taking.." She glanced up at Gerard and smiled softly. "And warping your floor."
He grinned sheepishly back at her. "I already told you-"
"You don't know for sure!" Imogen exclaimed, rather joyously, as she smirked at Gerard, facing the crowd completely. Her pale, tired face was revealed to all of them and they all, Lindsey especially, were shocked by the pain and guilt swimming in her eyes.
"You're not intruding, we insisted," Lindsey pointed out, trying to suppress a frown.
Mikey simply nodded, along with Ray who added a quick, "It's fine. You're going to be okay."
There was a silence for a moment, in which the adults observed Imogen with minor curiousness. But, then Imogen asked a question which baffled them all.
"Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?" was he question.
Frank raised his eyebrows and swept a tattooed hand through his hair. "Why d'you ask?"
Imogen looked to his eyes and held his gaze, not flinching or crying, bursting into tears like they expected her to. Instead she stood up tall. "Because if there is, I'm pretty sure I'm going to Hell," she stated. "I hope the Devil is gracious."
Crista interjected then. "Why Hell?" she asked. "Why wouldn't you go to Heaven?"
Imogen hid behind her hair and looked back to her feet. She fumbled with them, placing one on top of the other anxiously, biting her lip so hard it started to bleed. No one thought she'd talk, until.. "My dad likes to encourage me. He needs a helper," she said finally.
All the men, not comprehending exactly what she meant, took it the wrong way. They jumped up from their seats and rushed over to her, all comforting and hugging her at once. "He.. he used you like that? The sick fuck! I can't believe.." Gerard started.
"I know! How could he do that?" Ray asked.
Imogen looked up at the four men and sighed. "He didn't rape me," she said. "Or anything along those lines." Her face twisted with pain, an obvious disgust at herself, embarrassment and a deep, gnawing sadness. "He used to but.. I mean.."
The four men's face softened even further, but the disgust was visible in their eyes. He did rape Imogen, just not recently. Disgusting man.
"It's like I said; my dad needs a helper," Imogen finished.
Jamia sighed. "I don't understand.." she admitted.
Imogen met her confused gaze. "I don't want you to.." she whispered. She slammed her eyes closed and looked to the floor, dark strands of hair falling in her face, eyes squeezed together painfully tight. "I shouldn't be here," she said suddenly. Imogen opened her eyes, tears falling to the floor, knees shaking.
Frank tilted Imogen's head up to look and him. He furrowed his eyebrows as he took in her distressed eyes and vacant expression, along with the sorrow that was so obviously painted on her face. Then there was the guilt lingering in her eyes... "Why shouldn't you?" he asked.
Imogen smiled softly, tears cascading down her soft cheeks. "I feel bad.. I'm intruding. Especially so close to Christmas.. I shouldn't be here.." she repeated. Suddenly, her knees gave way and she almost fell to the floor, but the men caught her before she did.
Gerard cradled Imogen in his arms; she was surprisingly short. Shorter than Frank.
"I'm going to make you some soup. Will someone take.." Lindsey then frowned. "I'm sorry, honey, what's your name?" she asked.
"Imogen," Imogen murmured sadly. "Named by my dad." Just thinking of him sent splinters flying into her heart, and made a managled sob leak from her mouth. "I hate him!" she spat suddenly, trying to wiggle out of Gerard's arms. "Let me go! I shouldn't be here! I can't be here! He'll come looking for me! I can't let him do this! I can't let him hurt anymore people! I have to leave! I have to go! I have to.."
Imogen suddenly burst into sobs; a single drop of grief welled up from the corner of her eye and then suddenly, she snapped. Hot torrents of anger, sorrow and exhaustion coursed down her pale face, hair getting caught in their trails, her racking sobs the only sound in the room, breaking the silence, breaking hearts, breaking her soul more and more with each tear that escaped her.
It was a painful sight to behold. Everyone looked at Imogen, hearts heavy with pity, as she wept and struggled in Gerard's arms, mumbling and wailing all at once. Then she fell limp.
"I can't.. I can't do this anymore," she whispered finally, defeat evident in her voice. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, wiping away her remaining tears. "I can't. I just.. I can't."
Gerard's grip tightened dramatically, and as he stared down at the poor girl, subconciously nodding to Lindsey, he walked out of the room. For a second, as he stared down at her, her eyes closed, fluttering in pain, heart heavy, expression crumpled, he saw himself.
And that generally scared him. He knew the state he was in. He knew what he was feeling, what he would've and did do to escape it.
He knew that was when he wanted to help her.. the moment he saw himself.