FicWad

*Gerard*


"What are you doing?"

I looked up from the armchair to see Mama standing close to me. Freaky. I wiped my face and sniffled. 

"I'm--"

"It was a rhetorical question. You're sniveling. This is no way to act. I have more important things to do than tell you what to do, but apparently you need constant direction. 

"Go back to the house. There is a list of those awaiting death. Draw them, write them, your choice."

"Wait," I managed to stop bawling enough to say, "You mean I'm the one who decides who dies?"

"No, I did not say that. There is a list you must follow. You are not Death. You are simply the mind behind the way in which they die."

I was getting so confused. "Well...what if I don't wanna do it?"

"Then the duty will fall on Michael, Frank, Robert, and Raymond. I can easily say that they will not be pleased. The five of you always share the work equally, whether it be organizing the Parade or writing obituaries or giving the dwellers here something to look forward to.

"I suggest you return before you get even more lost--"

A chorus of howls cut through the air. I swallowed hard. Of course there were wolves--this was the land of my creation after all. 

[/"Well, they have caught your scent. Just stay here and--"

But it was too late. I jumped from the chair and started away farther from the Town. 



*Raymond (not to be confused with Ray)*

The House of Wolves started to make their noise around the time I began to head back from the Meeting. Robert walked in stride with me. 

"They're early, aren't they?" he asked. 

I nodded. "Quite a bit, actually." I took a watch from my pocket. "It's just now five. Maybe that means they've found someone."

A Wolf ran past us, her eyes glittering with excitement. 

"They're in their animal forms at that," Robert remarked. "They usually stay as humans until after the night falls."

I found this very particular. A couple more Wolves shot by. Up to the left, near the fringes of the World, was nearly all the Pack, surrounding a dark-haired fellow that looked extremely familiar. 

"Is that Gerard?" I inquired of Robert. 

He squinted. "I think it is. His hair's different, though."

"Let's help him out."

Robert nodded and we jogged on over to where the Wolves were going insane. 

"Leave me alone!" Gerard sobbed, falling to his knees, head between his hands. 

Now, that was peculiar. Gerard usually would have just whistled to call them off. But he just sat there on the ground crying. 

I gave a short whistle and the Wolves backed up, looking at me. 

"We just wanted to show him home," a Wolf with large white eyes said. "He was lost."

I thanked them and they departed. 

Gerard peered up at us, eyes full of fear and confusion. "B-Bob? R-R-Ray?"

Robert and I exchanged puzzled glances. "No, Gerard. We're Robert and Raymond. Don't you remember us?"

"I'm not him!" he said loudly. "I'm not your Gerard. He moved on and I replaced him. I'm sorry."

Gerard's gone? My eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm the new Gerard. Your Gerard's gone. Somebody killed me and now I'm here and I don't want me here any more than you want me here. I don't wanna be dead." He stood up, rubbing his eyes. "I wanna be with my Frankie and Lindsey and Mikey and Bob and Ray. And I want your fucking 'fro back, Raymond."

I touched the top of my head unconsciously. My living parallel had an afro? Very strange. 

"Let's get you back home," Robert suggested. 

"That's not my home. My home is not here. This place isn't real..." He started sniffling again and Robert and I took him by the arms. 

I said, "Gerard, like it or not, this isn't a fantasy. This is real. We are real. Now, I haven't the slightest idea why you're here--"

"Somebody killed me."

"No, you're misunderstanding me. The five if us were--"

Robert shot me a look that read "shut up" and I did so. This Gerard was too raw to handle our secrets. 

He kept snuffling and whimpering all the way back to our house. It was beginning to annoy Robert visibly. I handled the ones in denial all the time, so this was no real pain in my ass. But with each whine, Robert seemed to darken until he took out a syringe and stuck it in New Gerard's arm. New Gerard fell limp into our arms. 

"Was I the only one getting bothered?" Robert inquired. 

"He's just got a lot to take in."

"I don't like this...Gerard wasn't on our list."

"Maybe Frank knows something."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Maybe."

Carrying New Gerard to the house proved to be a simple task. He was not really all that heavy. When we arrived, Michael was at the door to greet us. 

"Oh. You found him."

"Yeah. Robert got a bit irritated with his crying and shot him up with a little sleepy grease."

Michael let us in. We hauled New Gerard up to Old Gerard's bedroom. Frank was sitting at the desk, clutching a drawing. 

Robert left soundlessly. I wandered over to where Frank was and took a gander at what he was staring intently at. 

"God," the word escaped me before I could catch it. 

A bloody lacerated Gerard lie in Frank's arms, head lolled to the side. In the picture, Frank was crying. Well, in real life (or death as it may be), Frank was trying not to cry. 

"He drew this before he disappeared," Frank said very quietly, rubbing at his nose. "Raymond, why would he draw this?"

I frowned hard. "Where's his copy of the list?"

Frank shuffled around the papers on the desk, a typewritten page coming forward. 

Meredith Kirtland 
James Roberts
Francesca Ernandes
Lilian Stewart

And at the bottom, in neat handwriting,

Gerard Way

"Shit," I managed to say. "We gotta get ahold of the person who writes the lists."

Frank looked at me incredulously. "Are you insane?"

"I want to know why this happened."

"So do I, but you don't see me chasing around mystic beings."

"Frank, somebody changed Fate at the last second. They don't usually do that."

"If they did it, they have a reason." Frank's expression became unreadable. "Let's leave Gerard alone."

Not bothering to point out that New Gerard was heavily sedated, I agreed and we left the room. 


[/[*sorry for the long wait.