Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I'm Not A Hero
A/N If you've got here using the drop down or arrows, chances are you've missed Chapter 10 - use the story's main menu or the link below to get to that one (the drop down and arrows skip it for some reason!)
http://www.ficwad.com/story/118112
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By the time Mikey, dragged by two much taller and broader men, approached the heavy steel barred door, beyond which he knew would lie only a cell and possibly his death, he was already struggling furiously. Now awake and recovered from his painful and violent collision with the car during his capture, he was determined not to make it easy for them.
“Keep still, or I’ll snap you in two!”
Mikey had no intention of obeying any order from either of the two men, but they were ready with their own plans.
“Hey!” one yelled. “In the cell!”
All Mikey’s protestations ceased as Frank moved forward and stood framed in the doorway. He curled his fingers around one of the bars as he stared out; his expression a strange mix of anguish and apology. Mikey’s own expression turned from one of shock to eventually mirror Frank’s own as Ray too stepped forward to join his fellow guitarist at the bars. Knowing that Bob had already been taken and was probably resting his leg somewhere inside the cell, there was only one person left unaccounted for.
“Is Gerard here?” Mikey asked as Ray and Frank were forced back away from the door to allow it to be opened.
Shoved inside, Mikey shuddered slightly as he heard the clang of the door being locked tight behind him. But even that was a mere distraction compared with the reaction from his bandmates to the question just asked.
“What?” Mikey asked with concerned uncertainty. “What’s going on? Where’s Gee? Is he okay?”
It was a question that Mikey was certain to ask, but somehow, none of them had prepared themselves to answer it. Frank took a pace forward and nodded thoughtfully. Taking Mikey’s arm, he encouraged the bassist to sit.
“Frank, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me now!”
“He’s not here,” Frank began.
“I can see that!” Mikey snapped, frustrated by the lack of a response. “Just tell me; is he okay?”
“He…he’s…”
“Frank!” Mikey yelled, now fearing the worst.
“He’s under the control of the Dreamcatcher,” Bob explained bluntly. “He sent Frank and Ray into the comic on his orders.”
Mikey’s brow furrowed; it was a lot to take in. Bob had been brought up to speed by Frank and Ray as soon as they had been brought to the cell, but that had taken several minutes of explanation. Bob had compacted everything into one simple shocking statement and Mikey needed a moment to process it.
“Bob!” Frank hissed. “Did you have to put it like that?”
“It had to be put some way, you were just scaring him by saying nothing,” Bob countered.
“But like that! You couldn’t have found a gentler way to say it?”
“Trust me, Frank,” Bob stared up with a grim frown on his face. “Mikey and I have had a lot of weird things happen to us here. He can handle it.”
“Guys,” Ray interrupted nodding to his side towards Mikey.
All three turned their attention, with a tinge of guilt, toward the younger of the brothers, apparently struggling with a detail.
“Why?” he finally asked with a puzzled expression firmly fixed on his face.
“Mikes, it wasn’t his fault,” Ray explained. “He gave himself up to…”
“No,” Mikey interrupted quietly waving a hand in front of himself for emphasis. “You don’t understand. I mean, why did the Dreamcatcher take control of him? He didn’t with us. Why did he with Gee?”
The young bassist was fixed with three suddenly blank expressions as they considered possible reasons for the anomaly. Finally, it was Frank who voiced the opinion of them all.
“It could only be because he had to.”
Mikey nodded grimly. “And if he had to, it must be because Gerard can harm him.”
“So, Gee’s not only his way through, but he can send him back,” Bob reasoned.
“Except, he can’t, can he?” Ray argued. “The Dreamcatcher’s controlling him.”
“There must be some way of fighting him off,” Frank added, more out of hope than real belief. “Ray, you picked up a lot when he had hold of you at the hospital. Is there nothing else you know? Anything that may help?”
Ray shrugged with a horrible feeling of uselessness. “I told you everything. Perhaps if he could get us out of here, we could help, but I don’t know what else to say.”
*
Gerard blinked as his mind snapped out of its daze. Momentarily confused, recent events once again flooded his mind. Noticing the pen still in his hand, Gerard grimaced as a wave of nausea hit him at the sober recognition of what he had done.
Glancing around quickly, he realised he was alone; wherever The Dreamcatcher had taken Hernandez, he was momentarily free of him and his control. Of course, he knew that Gerard would make no attempt to leave the building, not while he had his brother and friends trapped in the comic’s pages. Knowing that time was probably short, Gerard ran into the studio and stared at the large board-backed sheet of paper standing on the easel. Taking in the sequence of pictures, he could clearly see how Bob and Mikey had been tormented and were now languishing in a cell shared with Frank and Ray.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself. “First mistake, you told me where to find them. But now what?”
Gerard pushed his hand through his hair, struggling to make himself concentrate and not dwell on the limited time he knew he had. Tapping the pen on his lower lip, willing himself to think, to search for a solution, Gerard lowered his eyes and gazed at the pen. Hernandez himself had told him that the pen would bring the comic to life. It was his way in and most probably, their way out.
Touching the frame with the nib, Gerard gasped in surprise as the once static figures began to move.
*
‘What’s happening?” Ray asked nervously as an entire section of the once blackened wall began to fade to a glass-like transparency.
Bob scowled; he knew exactly what was happening.
“That wall is the window into the comic. We can’t see it from this side; it’s like a two-way mirror. They can see in, but we can’t see out.”
“Okay,” Ray nodded. “But what’s happening now?”
“Hernandez can open it. He did it when he first took me; he came to gloat. I’ll warn you now, he’ll look about seventy feet tall from in here. Freaked me out when I first saw him.”
As the wall faded completely, a broad smile spread across Mikey’s face as he realised that it was not Hernandez come to gloat over their capture. Instead, he stared up at the unimaginably large face of his brother.
“Gee!” he called happily.
“How do I get you out?” Gerard asked urgently, aware that The Dreamcatcher may return at any moment.
“We can’t just step out through the window,” Bob announced. “I tried that and I stayed small. There must be another way.”
“Whatever he draws is real,” Mikey added helpfully. “Draw something!”
Gerard nodded; it made perfect sense. Thinking frantically, Gerard pushed a hand through his hair. He had to draw something to get them out of the page, but what?
“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he began urgently. “You have to get out of the pages, but first, you got to get out of that cell and be able to protect yourself.”
Quickly sketching a key and two guns, Gerard smiled with relief, as Mikey and Frank were able to pick them up. Trying the key in the lock, Mikey’s smile broadened still further as the cell door opened immediately.
“I’ll help Bob walk,” Ray announced.
“Okay, you get out and head right. I’m moving on to the next frame?”
As the wall blackened once more, Gerard turned his attention to the next frame of the comic. There simply wasn’t time to ask how everyone was or how Bob had been hurt. Gerard knew that time was short and he had to hurry.
His eyes darted quickly around the room, taking in as much detail as he was able. His hand flew across the frame, drawing the studio as fast as he could. Almost finished, Gerard felt his arm tense as if straining against something.
“And now, it’s time to step back away from the easel,” a slow and steady voice demanded.
Gerard’s fingers froze as he felt his arm pulling away from the paper.
“No!” he spat through gritted teeth as he fought back.
Pushing the pen forward one last time, he managed another line on the page.
“Back!” The Dreamcatcher screamed mercilessly.
Staggering back unwillingly, Gerard found himself beyond reach of the easel and rooted to the spot.
“I knew it was a risk leaving you even for a few minutes, but you have surpassed all my expectations. Not only did you release yourself from my control, but you also figured out a way to free your cohorts. Unfortunately, you had insufficient time. They are still trapped and now, they will die.”
“No… please… kill me instead,” Gerard begged, still unable to move.
The Dreamcatcher let out a cruel laugh as he turned back to the comic proof.
“Kill you instead? Dreamweaver, you misunderstand. You were always going to die and once you do, I will be free forever with the powers of the Dream World at my command.”
“What… what are you doing?”
Gerard’s eyes flew open as he caught sight of The Dreamcatcher setting fire to the corner of the large sheet of card-backed paper resting on the easel.
“I’m killing your friends.”
“NO!” Gerard screamed as the flames licked higher on the page.
Gripping the pen ever tighter, his fingernails dug into his palm as he listened to the terrified shouts of all the people trapped in the pages. The Dreamcatcher’s mocking laughter rang loudly in his ears as he fought his control, his anger and fear building to colossal heights.
A new sound reached him. A sound he knew very well. Mikey’s anguished voice calling his name. Inside him something snapped and in an instant he was rushing forward in a blur of fury and rage. It seemed only a fraction of a second before he was at The Dreamcatcher’s back jamming the pen down hard into him, so deep that it was half buried between his shoulder blades. Arching his back, screaming in agony and disbelief he tried to reach the pen. But the damage was done. Already his fingers were fading. Dropping to his knees, The Dreamcatcher felt his very existence slipping away. Unable even to return to the Dream World, he was defeated and dying.
Gerard ignored him; his only interest lay in the sheet of paper now fully alight and filling the room with smoke and tiny crackling flakes of ash as small sections broke away to fly briefly through the air, floating embers of scorched paper.
Removing his jacket, Gerard tried desperately to smother the flames, burning his hands as he patted frantically at sections of the paper. Finally the flames died away leaving only a fraction of the sheet. What remained was charred and blackened, the curled edges still glowing with tiny pinpricks of orange light.
Stepping back, Gerard allowed his jacket to fall from his blistered and bleeding hands. Staring intently, he waited with his heart in his mouth, but nothing happened. Falling to his knees, Gerard stared at the floor, his tears stinging his hands as the salt mixed with the open sores. But he was numb, the pain barely registered. He had broken free of The Dreamcatcher too late.
Even when the sound of coughing eventually filtered though to his insensate mind it still didn’t register that he should be alone. Only when a hand touched his arm, did he turn.
“Gee,” the hoarse voice whispered.
“Mikey!” Gerard cried elated, throwing his arms around his brother despite the pain in his hands.
Still kneeling, but no longer resting back on his heels, Gerard looked over Mikey’s shoulder to see, Frank, Bob and Ray emerging from near the wall. Leaning back from the embrace, Gerard rose unsteadily, helping Mikey to do the same.
“How?” he asked uncertainly, as the brothers joined their bandmates; all of them grubby and dishevelled.
“You did it,” Frank replied between coughs. “We could see our way through to the studio, but we had to get through the fire.”
“I… I thought…” Gerard threw his arms around his friend, his tears now those of relief.
“The Dreamcatcher?” Ray asked between checking on Bob.
“He’s dead,” Gerard confirmed with a hint of anger seeping back into his tone. “Bob, your leg, are you okay, what happened?”
Bob glanced down, his gunshot wound now appearing only as a smudge of ink on his leg.
“I’m okay,” he nodded, before breaking into a cough. “But, you’re hurt, your hands.”
“You put the fire out?” Mikey added as he realised the cause of his injuries.
Gerard nodded. “It’s over, but I think we need to get to a doctor.”
*
“So!” Hernandez sneered as he spoke aloud to only his own ears. “For all his gloating and lying and power, Way still defeated him! Well, that won’t happen to me! Now I’m The Dreamcatcher and when I escape from here, God help them all!”
THE END
http://www.ficwad.com/story/118112
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time Mikey, dragged by two much taller and broader men, approached the heavy steel barred door, beyond which he knew would lie only a cell and possibly his death, he was already struggling furiously. Now awake and recovered from his painful and violent collision with the car during his capture, he was determined not to make it easy for them.
“Keep still, or I’ll snap you in two!”
Mikey had no intention of obeying any order from either of the two men, but they were ready with their own plans.
“Hey!” one yelled. “In the cell!”
All Mikey’s protestations ceased as Frank moved forward and stood framed in the doorway. He curled his fingers around one of the bars as he stared out; his expression a strange mix of anguish and apology. Mikey’s own expression turned from one of shock to eventually mirror Frank’s own as Ray too stepped forward to join his fellow guitarist at the bars. Knowing that Bob had already been taken and was probably resting his leg somewhere inside the cell, there was only one person left unaccounted for.
“Is Gerard here?” Mikey asked as Ray and Frank were forced back away from the door to allow it to be opened.
Shoved inside, Mikey shuddered slightly as he heard the clang of the door being locked tight behind him. But even that was a mere distraction compared with the reaction from his bandmates to the question just asked.
“What?” Mikey asked with concerned uncertainty. “What’s going on? Where’s Gee? Is he okay?”
It was a question that Mikey was certain to ask, but somehow, none of them had prepared themselves to answer it. Frank took a pace forward and nodded thoughtfully. Taking Mikey’s arm, he encouraged the bassist to sit.
“Frank, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me now!”
“He’s not here,” Frank began.
“I can see that!” Mikey snapped, frustrated by the lack of a response. “Just tell me; is he okay?”
“He…he’s…”
“Frank!” Mikey yelled, now fearing the worst.
“He’s under the control of the Dreamcatcher,” Bob explained bluntly. “He sent Frank and Ray into the comic on his orders.”
Mikey’s brow furrowed; it was a lot to take in. Bob had been brought up to speed by Frank and Ray as soon as they had been brought to the cell, but that had taken several minutes of explanation. Bob had compacted everything into one simple shocking statement and Mikey needed a moment to process it.
“Bob!” Frank hissed. “Did you have to put it like that?”
“It had to be put some way, you were just scaring him by saying nothing,” Bob countered.
“But like that! You couldn’t have found a gentler way to say it?”
“Trust me, Frank,” Bob stared up with a grim frown on his face. “Mikey and I have had a lot of weird things happen to us here. He can handle it.”
“Guys,” Ray interrupted nodding to his side towards Mikey.
All three turned their attention, with a tinge of guilt, toward the younger of the brothers, apparently struggling with a detail.
“Why?” he finally asked with a puzzled expression firmly fixed on his face.
“Mikes, it wasn’t his fault,” Ray explained. “He gave himself up to…”
“No,” Mikey interrupted quietly waving a hand in front of himself for emphasis. “You don’t understand. I mean, why did the Dreamcatcher take control of him? He didn’t with us. Why did he with Gee?”
The young bassist was fixed with three suddenly blank expressions as they considered possible reasons for the anomaly. Finally, it was Frank who voiced the opinion of them all.
“It could only be because he had to.”
Mikey nodded grimly. “And if he had to, it must be because Gerard can harm him.”
“So, Gee’s not only his way through, but he can send him back,” Bob reasoned.
“Except, he can’t, can he?” Ray argued. “The Dreamcatcher’s controlling him.”
“There must be some way of fighting him off,” Frank added, more out of hope than real belief. “Ray, you picked up a lot when he had hold of you at the hospital. Is there nothing else you know? Anything that may help?”
Ray shrugged with a horrible feeling of uselessness. “I told you everything. Perhaps if he could get us out of here, we could help, but I don’t know what else to say.”
*
Gerard blinked as his mind snapped out of its daze. Momentarily confused, recent events once again flooded his mind. Noticing the pen still in his hand, Gerard grimaced as a wave of nausea hit him at the sober recognition of what he had done.
Glancing around quickly, he realised he was alone; wherever The Dreamcatcher had taken Hernandez, he was momentarily free of him and his control. Of course, he knew that Gerard would make no attempt to leave the building, not while he had his brother and friends trapped in the comic’s pages. Knowing that time was probably short, Gerard ran into the studio and stared at the large board-backed sheet of paper standing on the easel. Taking in the sequence of pictures, he could clearly see how Bob and Mikey had been tormented and were now languishing in a cell shared with Frank and Ray.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself. “First mistake, you told me where to find them. But now what?”
Gerard pushed his hand through his hair, struggling to make himself concentrate and not dwell on the limited time he knew he had. Tapping the pen on his lower lip, willing himself to think, to search for a solution, Gerard lowered his eyes and gazed at the pen. Hernandez himself had told him that the pen would bring the comic to life. It was his way in and most probably, their way out.
Touching the frame with the nib, Gerard gasped in surprise as the once static figures began to move.
*
‘What’s happening?” Ray asked nervously as an entire section of the once blackened wall began to fade to a glass-like transparency.
Bob scowled; he knew exactly what was happening.
“That wall is the window into the comic. We can’t see it from this side; it’s like a two-way mirror. They can see in, but we can’t see out.”
“Okay,” Ray nodded. “But what’s happening now?”
“Hernandez can open it. He did it when he first took me; he came to gloat. I’ll warn you now, he’ll look about seventy feet tall from in here. Freaked me out when I first saw him.”
As the wall faded completely, a broad smile spread across Mikey’s face as he realised that it was not Hernandez come to gloat over their capture. Instead, he stared up at the unimaginably large face of his brother.
“Gee!” he called happily.
“How do I get you out?” Gerard asked urgently, aware that The Dreamcatcher may return at any moment.
“We can’t just step out through the window,” Bob announced. “I tried that and I stayed small. There must be another way.”
“Whatever he draws is real,” Mikey added helpfully. “Draw something!”
Gerard nodded; it made perfect sense. Thinking frantically, Gerard pushed a hand through his hair. He had to draw something to get them out of the page, but what?
“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he began urgently. “You have to get out of the pages, but first, you got to get out of that cell and be able to protect yourself.”
Quickly sketching a key and two guns, Gerard smiled with relief, as Mikey and Frank were able to pick them up. Trying the key in the lock, Mikey’s smile broadened still further as the cell door opened immediately.
“I’ll help Bob walk,” Ray announced.
“Okay, you get out and head right. I’m moving on to the next frame?”
As the wall blackened once more, Gerard turned his attention to the next frame of the comic. There simply wasn’t time to ask how everyone was or how Bob had been hurt. Gerard knew that time was short and he had to hurry.
His eyes darted quickly around the room, taking in as much detail as he was able. His hand flew across the frame, drawing the studio as fast as he could. Almost finished, Gerard felt his arm tense as if straining against something.
“And now, it’s time to step back away from the easel,” a slow and steady voice demanded.
Gerard’s fingers froze as he felt his arm pulling away from the paper.
“No!” he spat through gritted teeth as he fought back.
Pushing the pen forward one last time, he managed another line on the page.
“Back!” The Dreamcatcher screamed mercilessly.
Staggering back unwillingly, Gerard found himself beyond reach of the easel and rooted to the spot.
“I knew it was a risk leaving you even for a few minutes, but you have surpassed all my expectations. Not only did you release yourself from my control, but you also figured out a way to free your cohorts. Unfortunately, you had insufficient time. They are still trapped and now, they will die.”
“No… please… kill me instead,” Gerard begged, still unable to move.
The Dreamcatcher let out a cruel laugh as he turned back to the comic proof.
“Kill you instead? Dreamweaver, you misunderstand. You were always going to die and once you do, I will be free forever with the powers of the Dream World at my command.”
“What… what are you doing?”
Gerard’s eyes flew open as he caught sight of The Dreamcatcher setting fire to the corner of the large sheet of card-backed paper resting on the easel.
“I’m killing your friends.”
“NO!” Gerard screamed as the flames licked higher on the page.
Gripping the pen ever tighter, his fingernails dug into his palm as he listened to the terrified shouts of all the people trapped in the pages. The Dreamcatcher’s mocking laughter rang loudly in his ears as he fought his control, his anger and fear building to colossal heights.
A new sound reached him. A sound he knew very well. Mikey’s anguished voice calling his name. Inside him something snapped and in an instant he was rushing forward in a blur of fury and rage. It seemed only a fraction of a second before he was at The Dreamcatcher’s back jamming the pen down hard into him, so deep that it was half buried between his shoulder blades. Arching his back, screaming in agony and disbelief he tried to reach the pen. But the damage was done. Already his fingers were fading. Dropping to his knees, The Dreamcatcher felt his very existence slipping away. Unable even to return to the Dream World, he was defeated and dying.
Gerard ignored him; his only interest lay in the sheet of paper now fully alight and filling the room with smoke and tiny crackling flakes of ash as small sections broke away to fly briefly through the air, floating embers of scorched paper.
Removing his jacket, Gerard tried desperately to smother the flames, burning his hands as he patted frantically at sections of the paper. Finally the flames died away leaving only a fraction of the sheet. What remained was charred and blackened, the curled edges still glowing with tiny pinpricks of orange light.
Stepping back, Gerard allowed his jacket to fall from his blistered and bleeding hands. Staring intently, he waited with his heart in his mouth, but nothing happened. Falling to his knees, Gerard stared at the floor, his tears stinging his hands as the salt mixed with the open sores. But he was numb, the pain barely registered. He had broken free of The Dreamcatcher too late.
Even when the sound of coughing eventually filtered though to his insensate mind it still didn’t register that he should be alone. Only when a hand touched his arm, did he turn.
“Gee,” the hoarse voice whispered.
“Mikey!” Gerard cried elated, throwing his arms around his brother despite the pain in his hands.
Still kneeling, but no longer resting back on his heels, Gerard looked over Mikey’s shoulder to see, Frank, Bob and Ray emerging from near the wall. Leaning back from the embrace, Gerard rose unsteadily, helping Mikey to do the same.
“How?” he asked uncertainly, as the brothers joined their bandmates; all of them grubby and dishevelled.
“You did it,” Frank replied between coughs. “We could see our way through to the studio, but we had to get through the fire.”
“I… I thought…” Gerard threw his arms around his friend, his tears now those of relief.
“The Dreamcatcher?” Ray asked between checking on Bob.
“He’s dead,” Gerard confirmed with a hint of anger seeping back into his tone. “Bob, your leg, are you okay, what happened?”
Bob glanced down, his gunshot wound now appearing only as a smudge of ink on his leg.
“I’m okay,” he nodded, before breaking into a cough. “But, you’re hurt, your hands.”
“You put the fire out?” Mikey added as he realised the cause of his injuries.
Gerard nodded. “It’s over, but I think we need to get to a doctor.”
*
“So!” Hernandez sneered as he spoke aloud to only his own ears. “For all his gloating and lying and power, Way still defeated him! Well, that won’t happen to me! Now I’m The Dreamcatcher and when I escape from here, God help them all!”
THE END
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