Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Best Brother

Christmas Past

by ParanoiaDestroyah 2 reviews

Mikey finally remembers why he hasn't talked to his brother in so long.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Characters: Gerard Way,Mikey Way - Published: 2011-08-18 - Updated: 2011-08-19 - 1174 words

5Insightful
Mikey’s POV

I was watching the Wiggles, and then I started trying to remember why Gerard and I hadn’t spoke for about eight months. I remember it was around Christmas, and we were at mom and dad’s house. Mom and dad were making dinner, and Gerard and I were decorating the Christmas tree which we had done every year since I could walk.

I heard one of the ornaments hit the ground with a crash. I looked over at Gerard who was covering his mouth his a clumsy and slightly shocked look on his face. I glanced t the floor and there was the Mickey Mouse ornaments Gerard got me when I was five, -because he called me Mikey Mouse- in a million tiny pieces.

“Whoops…” Gerard said, his speech slightly slurred.

He had bad drinking problem, and last week when I talked to him over the phone he promised he wouldn’t be like this over the holiday. I hated seeing him like this. It was almost like the self destruction made him feel in control; even when he wasn’t.

“Were you drinking?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed anything wrong with him since he got here.

“Not since I finished packing my stuff upstairs…” He said and hiccupped.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I sighed. “You promised.”

“Well, it’s Christmas eve, and I promised not to be like this on the holiday.” He said and threw his hands on his hips.

“Fuck. You knew what I meant. Why do you do this?” I asked and practically mimicked him.

“Because I can, and I’m a grown up. So I will. You’re 18 and still living with our parents. Don’t expect me to listen to you when you’re a silly teenager.” He said and popped his hip to the right.

“I’m 18, with a job, looking for an apartment and I’ve been in a steady relationship for two years. I think I’ve accomplished more in the past three months than you have in the past three years. And I’m still in high school.” I said and glared at him over the top of my glasses.

“Yeah. Cool. Piss off.” He shrugged and started hanging a few more ornaments.

“I wish I had a different brother.” I sighed out of pure frustration.

“I wish you weren’t born!” He screamed at me.

“You’re saying that because you’re drunk.” I said and shook my head.

“Okay. If that’s my excuse, what’s yours for wanting a different fucking brother?” He said, his eyebrows forced into a ‘v’ shape.

“I didn’t mean it. I said it out of frustration.” I said and rolled my eyes. What a melodramatic dickhead.

“Yes you fucking did! You hate me! I love you so fucking much and you hate me!" He said and I saw tears well up in his eyes.

“Gerard… Come on…” I started. “Stop being such a bitch. Seriously.”

“Fine! Fuck you! You wont have to worry about me being a bitch anymore, because I wont ever speak to any of you again!” He said.

“Yeah. Okay. You’ve said that before, and look where you’re standing right now.” I said.

“Bye.” He said sounding torn up and left the house.

It didn’t occur to me until he started the car that he shouldn’t be driving. I ran out in front of Gerard’s car before he could pull out.

“Gee! You shouldn’t be fucking driving! What the hell’s wrong with you?” I said and hit the hood of his car.

“Nothing’s fucking wrong with me! I hope I get killed! If you hate me so much I don’t want to burden you with my presence!” He said, and I could see tears.

“Gee…” I started and took a quieter tone. “You need someplace to stay, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s a three hour drive from here to your house. I really don’t want you to get hurt.”

“B-But you hate me… B-Because I’m a bad brother… And I-I drink… And I-I’m a bad person… A-And…” He stopped, put his head against the steering wheel and started sobbing.

I can’t believe I made him cry. I felt like shit, and totally regretted saying anything because I was upset. I guess him breaking a promise wasn’t s bad as me saying I wished I had a different brother. I walked over to his window.

“Gerard… You’re the best brother I could’ve asked for, I said that because I was upset that you were drinking. I hate seeing you like this, and I just want you to get better. Because I love you and I care.” I said and teared up a little.

“You…” He sniffled and looked over. “You do?”

“Yeah of course, Gee.” I said and stood back from his door. “You wanna come back inside?”

“O-Okay…” He said and got out of the car.

I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. I loved how close we were. We only started fighting after he started drinking heavily. I absolutely hated the thought of this eventually killing him.

-Hours later-

Gerard was sitting curled up beside me watching one of those old Rudolf movies. I looked over at him, and he didn’t look like he was sleeping, just resting his eyes.

“Gee, you gonna fall asleep out here?” I asked and poked his foot.

He giggled and looked up at me. “Yeah. I was hoping we could fall asleep on the couch like we used to all the time.”

“Okay. I’m going to go change.” I said and got up.

“ME TOO!” He said and ran up to the guest room.

I got changed into my Anthrax shirt, and a pair of pajama bottoms that were littered in unicorns. I walked downstairs and saw Gerard on the couch again with his Batman tee shirt and boxers with ducks on them.

We resumed out previous positions, and I slowly dosed off with my brother curled up in a ball a cushion away.

-The next evening-

“I’m just saying, Gerard! You’re becoming a lazy, sloppy drunk.” Donald (our father) said and Gerard squinted at him.

“Yeah, Gee… Maybe you should try and stop drinking…” I suggested and hung my head a little.

“Oh, here we are again. You know what? Fuck you guys. If I needed a fucking life coach, I’d get a fucking life coach!” He said and left the hours without any of his things.


Oh. That makes a little more sense now. Thinking back on it, I kinda regret it ever happened. We had made Gerard feel so bad… And he hasn’t talked to any of us in eight months because we couldn’t have been a little more compassionate.

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