FicWad

Yes, I have decided this chapter needs theme music. I was thinking Lost in Darkness by Escape the Fate. I don't know why.
Oh and damn, I'm sorry the last chapter was completely and utterly terrible. I'll try and rewrite it when I have some time.
But this chapter is my favorite. Seriously.  


He watched as the blurring trees painted the window. Cold and clammy against he cheek. He shuddered. It was all wrong, wrong timing, wrong person. It wasn't him. 
Gerard sat on a bus full of killers, headed to a place he didn't belong. He could hear their foul words and twisted laughter, it make his insides scworm as he winced. 
The handcuffs clinked in his lap, their menacing, coldness unwanted. He wriggled his wrists about, unable to get past the horrid feeling. It wasn't just the feeling of having them there, it was knowing they were there that was the worst. 
Gerard sat there against the window, his eyes closed, remembering the day his life went to Hell. 
He had sat there music turned on low, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrated on his drawing. He heard the fast hard knock from upstairs, and the sounds of footsteps on floor boards as his mom rushed towards the door. 
It was a blur after that. But he defiantly remembered fast clack of his mother going down the stairs, the white look of sheer horror plastered on her face as she entered Gerard's dimmed room, her hair flying out from her face as she rounded the corner. 
"Mom, wha-?" Gerard started to ask. 
Donna quickly composed herself and choppily told him, "There are some people here for you."
With a confused look on his face, he said nothing more and followed her up the stairs.
He found two detectives sitting on his mother's suede love seat.
They stood and the one told him, "Gerard Way you are under arrest for murder. Anything you say can and will be used against you."
And they hauled him off. He remembered the march from the porch to the pavement, how he considered breaking for it, the look on his mother's face, the way it told him no matter how innocent he truly was-she wouldn't believe him. He felt the tears dripping down his face before he was even aware of their existence.

For some reason they had moved him to a different jail. The first one had been a nice, descent jail. This one was horrible. 
The only reason he could think of was, that he was going to be here a long time.  
He had another trial coming up soon. The first hadn't gone well. It had been small and Podunk. Then the media found out and blew up his story. In one of Mikey's visits he told Gerard that his face was plastered everywhere.  

Gerard was roughly shoved into his cell by a man that clearly didn't think highly of Gerard. And if he had hated the persisteenness of the other jail, he hated the dirty grundge of his one even more. Instead of white brick and white bars, clean mattress, and linoleum floors it was cracked and bloody brick that had probably once been white, black scraped and chipping bars he was afraid to touch, the mattress was shabby and piss-stained, with grey cement flooring.
Gerard heard the man acrossed him say, "This is such shit." "They bring a gun to my fist fight, and I'm fucker that goes down."

The next day, Mikey came by. Gerard reached through the bars, desperate to grab Mikey and never let his brother go. 
"I'm so scared." he whispered to Mikes, he didn't want the people around to hear his confession, as they enveloped a hug through the bars, cold metal pressing at each's chest.
"Me too, bro. I'm scared for ya." he whispered back. 
"Gee, I don't know what to believe." Mikey admitted, nervously gnawing at his lip.
"Believe I'm innocent."Gerard said hopelessly as his eyes locked with Mikey's.
"I want to, but there's a lot of evidence against you. They found a gun that mom declared yours, though there's no proof it's truly your's, some of your hair was found at the scene."
"Someone wants me to got down. You know anyone who could get my hair if they wanted to. And my gun, they could have known I had it. It could be someone we know. I was at school then Mikes. I was with Frank." He stated plainly, trying helplessly to get he other man to understand.
"Gee-" Mikey began softly, He would support his brother no matter what, even if he was actually a killer, it didn't matter. He loved Gerard, and that wasn't something he could just take back. 
"I didn't kill them!" Gerard screamed making his voice feel hoarse. 
"...Okay."

The pictures weren't pretty. The bodies had been  shot multiply times, one had it's right eye missing, they were missing great amounts of blood, which was splattered around the house. A small boy of three years old  drowned. A girl of one, strangled.
Perhaps Gerard Way truly didn't kill Eliza, her one year daughter, her three year old son, and her best friend, Alecka. 
And most shocking of all? The victim's friends say, Christie claimed the Children were Way's.
He certainly had reason enough to want them gone, or so people speculated. 
Oh yes, Gerard's mother, she never showed up.
Not even to court.