Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Tell Me I'm A Bad Man

Chapter 8

by Sassy 6 reviews

A visit to the psychiatrist - part 2

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama - Characters: Bob Bryar,Gerard Way - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2009-04-06 - Updated: 2009-04-06 - 1888 words - Complete

Sleeping in his arms, Lisa curled an arm around Bob’s bare chest and moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Bob had been awake now for about twenty minutes and had spent the time reflecting on the previous night and the sweet, gentle woman in his arms. They had kissed for the first time at dusk, only hours before and here he was now, waking up beside her. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t even expected, but it had been beautiful. His eyes watched the fall and rise of her breasts as she lay nestled against him and it was impossible not to smile. Another glance over to her alarm clock told him that the morning beckoned. Not only did Lisa have work, but Bob had a new therapist to see. Bob thought more about the appointment. She had only made the call the night before and, well, either he was a very good friend or he had time on his hands because the appointment had been made for late the next morning. The clock made its way steadily towards seven o’clock before the buzzer sounded with a grating, irritating noise that only alarm clocks seem to possess. Of course, the concept works perfectly, no one could sleep through the distinctly aggravating wail.

“Mmm,” Lisa almost sighed as she looked up into Bob’s deep frown. “Someone doesn’t like being woken up.”

Peeling away from the warmth and pleasure of Bob’s touch, Lisa hit the snooze button with more than a little irritation.

“Looks like I’m not the only one,” he smiled as she rolled back into place at his side.
“What makes you think I was talking about you in the first place?” she laughed as within seconds, she had made herself comfortable once more.
“You have to get up,” Bob laughed. “You have to go to work.”
“Make me some toast?” she half requested, half demanded.
“Is this how it’s going to be?” Bob asked, kissing her forehead. “You giving the orders and me obeying.”
“Umm… would that be so bad?” she laughed sleepily.
“Not at all,” he chuckled, pushing back the bed covers. Turning before leaving the room, he cocked his head to one side. “What if I rebelled? What if I wanted something in return?”

Lisa smiled teasingly as she pushed the sheets down to her waist. Chewing on the left side of her lower lip, she watched as he gazed appreciatively at her naked body.

“Tonight?” she asked suggestively.

Bob took a deep breath.

“So, toast!” he replied enthusiastically, to Lisa’s delight.
Smiling, she ran a finger along her lower lip. “Breakfast in bed?”
“You can have whatever you want in bed,” Bob replied with a broadening grin.
“Well, I’ll start with toast.”
“And later?”
“Is it true that drummers can do different things with all four limbs at once?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “We can.”
“Well, you can show me that then.
“Do you have a drum kit?” Bob asked teasingly.
“No,” Lisa smirked in return. “We’ll have to improvise.”


“Sit down, Gerard, I should warn you, this conversation is being recorded.”
“Great,” Gerard frowned, ignoring his statement. “You again.”

Simmons offered a half smile in return.

“Yes, Gerard, it’s me again. Does that bother you?”
“Well, I guess you’re better than the clown who dosed me with Thorazine yesterday.”
“Hmm, yesterday…”
“What?” Gerard demanded.
“Quite an eventful day for you, wasn’t it, Gerard?”
“You tell me,” he replied evasively, eyeing the psychiatrist with the same cold expression he had used during their first meeting.
“All right,” Simmons stared back, unimpressed by Gerard’s attempt to intimidate him. Opening the file, he glanced down briefly before looking up once more. “You’ve started seeing more than one person now?”

Gerard tried to shrug indifferently, but the act was unconvincing.

“Yeah, there’re two of them now.”
“But Ray Toro is still one of them?”
“Oh, yeah, there’s no getting rid of him!” Gerard snapped.
“Who’s the other one?”
“I don’t know why you’re asking. I know that you got everything I said recorded. I guess there’s no point protesting my innocence any more?”
“Is it Frank Iero?” Simmons continued, ignoring Gerard’s annoyance.
“Yeah, Frank Fucking Iero, the one who tricked me into to admitting the whole thing yesterday. I’ve gone over every detail and I still don’t know how he did that! I was being so careful with what I said, but somewhere along the way, I stopped and I spilled out the whole thing in one huge gloating session.”
“So you confessed to them? Why do you think that was? We’re you hoping for forgiveness?”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Gerard snapped angrily. “I said I was tricked! All I wanted to do was put Iero in his place! I wanted to gloat, to make him feel small, well, even smaller than he is. I don’t know, somehow, not only did he make me admit to their murders but also that I was fully aware of everything while I was doing it.”
“You said he tricked you into saying it? You’re suggesting it’s not true?” Simmons asked with curiosity in his tone.

Gerard shook his head irritably and scowled angrily.

“You’ve read the reports, heard the recordings. You know as well as I do that I’m guilty. The trial decided it and yesterday I went and fucking confirmed it! Every last detail, just as she said.”
“The prosecution attorney. She didn’t miss a trick and just like yesterday, I got reeled in. Don’t know when to keep my big mouth shut! I have to win; I have to prove myself. And this time? Well you know the old saying – give him enough rope and he’ll hang himself? Yeah well, in my case, it’s too close to the truth to be anything but scary!”
“Tell me about the trial. The prosecution attorney.”

Gerard rolled his eyes and slumped back in the chair.

“She was clever. I wasn’t prepared for just how easily she’d see through me. And how easy it was for her to get information on me. I mean they get the strangest details on ordinary people, all she had to do is Google me.”
“You don’t think of yourself as ordinary?”

Gerard raised his eyes without physically looking up. He seemed to consider the question, but it was apparent to anyone who really knew that the question was met with contempt.

“No,” he snapped abruptly. “I don’t.”
“Tell me how she saw through you.”

“So, Mister Way,” Stephanie Williams, the prosecution attorney, rounded her desk slowly. “You say you woke up and you were tied up?”
“Yeah, hands and feet,” he clarified.
“Your bandmates wanted you sober to threaten you?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Gerard replied. His tone gave away the unnerving feeling he felt that she was alluding to something that he had not yet realised.
“Your story of how you got clean from alcohol and drugs is pretty well documented.”
“What do you mean?” Gerard asked nervously.
“It took you seventeen days to sober up. You were in a pretty poor condition most of that time. Do you want to revise your story at all?”

Gerard took a deep breath; it was true, when faced with that information, no one would believe that he successfully sobered up for one day before falling apart again.

“I didn’t say it was immediate,” he replied, hoping it would be enough. “I got sober, that’s all.”
“You’re asking the court to believe that your bandmates had you tied up for seventeen days?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you did say that they kept you locked in the tour bus. Are you seriously expecting the court to believe that the entire time you were touring and providing interviews, that you couldn’t have made one single comment or phone call? That you couldn’t call the police? Or escape your supposed imprisonment?”
“It wasn’t like that!” Gerard snapped.
“And that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Isn’t fairer to say that you were paranoid and delusional during this time?” Williams asked sternly.
“No! Look, you weren’t there! You’re making it sound like it didn’t happen.”
“That’s right, Gerard, because it didn’t happen, did it? These tapes you refer to. They didn’t exist did they? And you don’t believe they did. You’re inventing this entire scenario to make yourself seem the victim.”

Gerard glanced quickly at his attorney, who remained uncharacteristically quiet.

“It’s your job to not believe me.”
“No, Gerard, it’s my job to prove your guilt. We’ve seen the video with your confession to Marion Jacobs shortly before you killed her. Your defence was being forced into it by extreme trauma. But your story doesn’t stand up to well documented evidence. Isn’t it more likely, that you planned their deaths yourself for your own advancement; exactly as you described in your own confession?”

Gerard’s brow furrowed as he looked up into the eyes of the prosecution attorney. She had him. His defence was in ruins. Looking at the jury, he could see the distinct lack of sympathy in their faces.

“You’re gonna believe him!” he snapped, throwing a pointing finger towards Bob, still seated with his head bowed. “They were crushing me! Holding me back!”

Colin Davies, Gerard’s defence attorney lowered his head; his client had lost his temper and with it, his chances. Realistically, his options were life or death. He was never hoping for an acquittal. Gerard would now be sentenced to death. It was almost not worth continuing the trial. Frowning at his client, Davies sighed heavily. Gerard was insane and quite simply unaware of the fact.

“So, you were found guilty.” Simmons frowned as he closed the file on his desk. “But even after that, you still pronounced your innocence?”
“A guy’s gotta try, right?” Gerard shrugged.
“But now, you admit that you’re guilty? Why is that?”
“I don’t really have much choice, do I? Not after yesterday,” Gerard’s expression was one of extreme annoyance.
“I confessed everything to Frank, I told him I knew exactly what I was doing the whole time. I told you. You know! It was recorded. You’ve heard it!”
“There were no recordings, Gerard,” Simmons frowned in confusion. “We can’t make unauthorised recordings, not without your knowledge.”

Gerard’s eyes widened as the words sunk in and a quiet yet clear chuckling started up from unseen figures in the room.

“You bastards!” Gerard yelled. “You knew! You set me up! You fucking bastards! If you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you!”

Strong hands clamped themselves around Gerard’s arms as his guard escort re-entered the room at Simmons’ silent alarm signal.

“Take him back to his room, but I’ll need to see him again this afternoon.”

Simmons watched with some curiosity as Gerard was dragged from the room, apparently oblivious to anything except his desire to pour out a vitriolic tirade to his two former guitarists.
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