FicWad

So this is the last chapter. Thank you for reading, rating and reviewing. That's what keeps me going.

I did my best, but just for your knowledge...I don't like how this came out. So don't be dissapointed if it's crap...but if I could get some feedback that'd be great:)

so I used...I believe past perfect in this story (past tense just didn't feel right). I don't usually write in that tense so there might be mistakes. It'd be nice, if someone could point them out to me:) (I'm German, in case you didn't know)

Try to enjoy, K

Hinter dieser Tür steht ein Klavier
Die Tasten sind staubig, die Seiten sind verstimmt

Behind this door is a piano
The keys are dusty; the strings are out of tune

With nervous hands he slowly pushes down the metal handle. It feels cold in his hands and he slips several times due to his sweat. With difficulty he manages to open the door a crack. He feels nauseous. Everything's spinning in front of his eyes and his whole body is trembling again. He wishes he could turn back in time and change it. He wishes he wouldn't have made this terrible mistake.

'I never wanted it to be like this Mikey' he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mikey is looking at him with a blank look in his eyes. He's feeling too many different emotions right now to pick one to show on his face. It's easier this way.

Gerard raises his shaking hand and cautiously presses his palm down onto the wood of the door. Carefully he pushes it open a little more. He knows there's no way out of this one.
'Your fault! You monster! You deserve to die!' his mind is screaming at him, and he knows it's true. He’s just sorry Mikey has to see this.

Gerard gulps loudly once again, his dark and lifeless eyes fixating on the door. With one final push the door swings open. Gerard steps back and presses himself against the wall opposite the door, squeezing his eyes shut. He doesn't want to see it.

Behind the door is a piano. A beautiful instrument designed in black and white. A layer of dust covers the normally carefully polished keys. Mikey knows this. It’s Frank's piano. After all he's a professional pianist.

But that's not what catches his eye. It's what's at the piano.

'No' he whispers, horror and disgust consuming him. 'What have you done, Gerard?' Pain is coursing through his body. He feels a sudden wave of sickness coming over him and he has to hold his breath so as not to vomit right there and then. The room is filled with foul air which makes him choke every time he needs to refill his burning lungs. Tears are running freely from his eyes now and he seems to have lost all control over his actions. He collapses onto the floor, trying and failing to stop the desperate sobs from coming out.

Gerard can't look. He thinks that maybe, if he doesn't look, it won't be there. Maybe he can ignore his broken little brother and just pretend for a little while longer. He can pretend everything’s okay again.

But he can't. Resigned he slowly opens his eyes. He dreads the sight he knows he'll be met with, but it's no use ignoring it anymore. It won't go away and he's just making it worse with every passing second he remains silent.

His eyes catch a glimpse of the sight in front of him. Seeing it now brings back memories. Painful memories he now wishes he didn't have. He wouldn’t be in this mess now if he'd never met Frank.



He remembers meeting Frank. He'd been a young and passionate artist, full of hopes, dreams and aspirations. He'd just finished art school and dreamed to be a successful comic book author soon.

It had been a coincidence to meet Frank.

His friend Ray's mother had wanted to go to a concert of classical music and Ray had been obligated to come along. Of course this had been followed by severe bitching from Ray until he’d persuaded Gerard to come too, tempting him with the promise of paying his coffee bills for a week. So Gerard being the coffee addicted fuck he'd been-and still is- had hastily agreed.

He'd dressed up in his best clothes and actually bothered washing his greasy hair. After quickly checking his appearance in the mirror, tugging at his shirt and smoothing down random strands of his hair, he'd deemed himself appropriate. He'd flashed a last crooked grin at his reflection before leaving the house.

He'd sighed and cursed and dragged himself to the theatre as slowly as possibly, not wanting to be there. He'd added a dramatic slouch to his movements, stating his distaste. Still he hadn't been able to refuse the offer of having his poison paid for a week.



He's in this mess now because he'd been such a greedy fuck. He curses himself, not wanting to dwell on this any longer. What's happened, happened and he can't change it now.

It's so hard to believe for him that'd only been a few months back. He had been so alive back then. Now he is just a disillusioned mess, full of broken dreams; all hope left behind in a crumpled heap torn out of his chest. There's no place left inside of him for such naïve things as trust and...love. A doleful bitterness has taken its place, leaving nothing but regret and wishful thinking in his pained mind.

Still he can't help remembering...



When he'd arrived he'd quickly sought refugee in the back corners of his mind, dreaming up different worlds and stories. He didn't even realize the first part of the concert go by.

He'd barely registered a new show starting. Only when a small, way too cute looking musician stepped onto the stage he'd been brought back to the living. He'd followed the boy's every movement, never once taking his eyes of the beautiful creature. The young pianist had stridden towards the piano, his smooth steps practically screaming confidence. He'd been dressed up neatly in perfectly fitting clothes which accentuated his small, yet masculine presence wonderfully. Only his unruly haircut had destroyed his image and had given him away as a punkish kind of guy.

Gerard had been fascinated by him.

When he'd started playing it'd been like everything else ceased to exist. There'd been just him and this gorgeous pianist; nothing else. Then the musician's eyes had locked with his, his nimble fingers never leaving the keys. He'd smirked at him, one corner of his mouth twitching higher than the other.

After that Gerard had been under a spell. He'd felt like this beautiful human being played just for him. His playing had been so indescribably breathtaking, Gerard still couldn't believe it.

And when the guy, Frank he'd learned, had asked him out after the show he'd been over the moon. His life had been so perfect for the next few months it still felt like a dream.

But then it happened. Thinking about it still brings tears to his eyes. He'd been so angry when he'd found out. If only he'd been able to control himself...

He really should have known better than to arrogantly assume this enticing man would be his and his only. He'd thought he could trust Frank. Gerard had opened up to Frank, he'd let him see him in his most vulnerable state; he'd told him all his darkest secrets. All he'd wanted to do was be with this beautiful human being, build a future with him and be happy. A little love hadn't been too much to ask for now, had it? But all he'd gotten was heartbreak for his love hadn't been as requited as he thought it to be.

Gerard had let himself be fooled into this near perfect illusion of Frank and him only. Frank had played the piano for him, light melodies filling the room he'd moved into, everything so full of emotion Gerard found himself unable to breathe whenever he'd heard his lover caress the keys gently with those delicate hands of his.

But there'd been more to Frank than he'd let on. Frank, in spite of his petite appearance, had been a wild, almost forceful nature. He'd been very headstrong and independent and not quite willing to give up on his previous lifestyle. He'd enjoyed playing with his victim's hearts, waiting until he'd got them wrapped around his finger, until dropping them like they never meant a thing, loving the sound of breaking hearts and shattering dreams.

It'd broken Gerard beyond repair. It had been too much too handle. He'd felt like thousands of razor blades were running up and down his spine, cutting his already fractured soul to tiny chunks. A lump the size of a potato (wut?) had formed in his throat, making it hard to breathe as his vision had blurred and his hands had started to shake, his inner organs turning and twisting until he'd felt ready to black out and throw up at the same time.

Everything had ended with just a few words uttered heartlessly; the speakers face a stony, merciless grimace as he'd spoken them. 'I don't love you. You're pathetic.' Frank had scoffed venomously, disgust lacing his words, as he'd turned to go.

He hadn't come very far.

Driven by the pain and anger he'd felt, Gerard had gripped Frank by his throat, throwing the shorter man square across the small, stuffed room he'd resided in for the last few weeks. His head had hit the bookshelf squashed against the wall, his skull cracking open with a sickening crunch.

Frank had been deathly afraid. He'd tried to get up and bolt as far as he could, but his vision had blanked out and he'd felt himself hit the floor, surrounded by a sticky liquid which could only have been his own blood.

The door had been shut and locked.



Gerard wants to cry; wants to scream. He wants to express his own agony. He wants to sink to the floor and cry his apology, but something won't let him. Invisible ropes chain him to the spot and he has no other chance than to stand and watch the events unfold before him, like he's just a spectator gaping at a crime scene, unable to look away.

Meanwhile Mikey has managed to stand up. His knees wobble dangerously, knocking together every few tentative steps he takes towards the piano.

Towards the form huddled over the piano.

Frank.

There's dried blood smeared over the keys, staining them a disturbing shade of rust-red. A puddle of the same red liquid covers parts of the floor, leading to the piano. Frank must've dragged himself to the instrument, getting his own blood onto his hands.

Mikey can't breathe. It seems like his mind just doesn't comprehend what his eyes see. He knows what must've happened, but he can't make sense of it. Shock has taken his body into an emotional stupor, making him unable to understand the gruesome sight in front of him.

He sees his hand lift, sees it close around Franks shoulder, but he doesn't feel it. He registers the coldness of Frank's skin under his bony fingers, telling him he is in fact touching a corpse, but somehow he doesn't realize it.

Gently he tugs, pulling his arm towards himself cautiously. A mechanism he doesn't need to function properly for. A sickening crunch is audible, as Franks hands separate from the piano keys, the dried blood having glued them together.

Suddenly the figure falls, the barrier keeping it in place now gone so that gravity can work its wonders.

The collision makes Frank's pallid visage face upwards. Somehow seeing this seems to bring Mikey back to reality. His breath catches in his throat as his eyes grow wide, horrified by what he's witnessing.

Gerard can hear his brother scream again, emitting anguished shouts for the reason behind all this.

He sees Mikey coming his way when he doesn't answer. Mikey grips him by his collar, strong hands balling into tight fists, as they curl around his clothes. He shakes his brother, but Gerard can't answer.

He wants to, god knows he does, but he feels like his mouth has been stitched up, leaving no way for him to make a sound, while his heart is bleeding out onto the floor.

'Gerard...what the...Gee...what happened here?!' Mikey begs him for an answer, despair tainting his shining hazel eyes.

Gerard remains speechless, sorrow having taken his voice away.

It's making Mikey sick. He feels so betrayed as he stares back at his older brother. The guy who'd always been his idol. Since they were toddlers, Mikey had always looked up to his older sibling, said one always having taken care of Mikey. Gerard had always been there when he'd needed him, always comforting him with soothing words lovingly whispered into his ear.
His whole world just crashed and burned to ashes, all collapsing. His live is falling to pieces.

He stares back at his brother's swirling orbs of green and hazel, meeting his gaze. In those eyes he can't see the caring chubby geek anymore. A sinister soul has taken his place. All that's left is a cold hearted killer. When did all of this happen? He's angry at himself for not realizing that his own brother's turned into a monster. And he has the fucking audacity to stand there and stare like /nothing happened/. Anger is building up deep inside his gut, slowly creeping up his spine, like a disease intoxicating his body. He clenches his fists tighter around Gerard’s shirt, letting the rage consume him.

He strikes.

The first blow hits Gerard's jaw, hard. Gerard can feel it dislocate, searing pain vastly spreading through his body, as his brother aims another blow. This one hits him in the gut, making him gasp and choke, drool running out of the corners of his mouth. He doubles over, having lost his balance, but Mikey is still gripping him tightly. He can feel fist after fist hailing down onto his body.

After some time Mikey releases his hold on him, only to use both fists. Gerard's curling into a foetal position. He can hear his bones break, each crack bringing a new wave of hot searing pain.

But he doesn't move. He doesn't even try to, because this is what he deserves.

Mikey doesn't feel his fists pounding into his older brother's defenceless body. The horror of it all has numbed his senses and erased all rational thinking from his brain. He kicks, he slams, he fractures, he hurts.

Because he's hurt and this is the only way he can think of dealing with this right now.

'Now you're just as bad as him' says a tiny but persistent voice in his head. It doesn't scream. No. it utters the words calmly into his ear, intensifying their significance. They burn deeply into his memory.

When he sees Gerard's body grow limb, he takes a step back. Rivers of salty tears pour out of his eyes. They’re puffy and red from all the crying.

What has he done?

His arms feel heavy, like the dead weight of an apparition, as they fall uselessly to his sides. He doesn't bother to wipe his tears, because he knows new ones will take their place immediately. Slowly he turns to leave, the thump thump thump of his steps resounding in his skull. He feels empty; drained.

He's a heartless monster, just like his brother, he realizes.

When Gerard feels the blows stop he cautiously pries apart his eyes, the lids feeling heavy. Through his blurry vision he can see his brother's face, red and tear stained.

Then it's gone, as is everything else.

He thinks he can distantly hear the playing of a piano, the light melody echoing through the empty halls of his house.

He's sick; sick with love.

But that's what it does to you. It leaves you a shallow shell, like a zombie.

He closes his eyes and his world fades to black.

Crappy End.

ehm yeah...please R&R, even if it's just you telling me you want to strangle me.
x K

for those who are interested: rough translation of the song Klavier by Rammstein

They tell me to
Unlock this door
Curiosity becomes a scream
What would be behind?

Behind this door
Stands a piano
The piano keys are dusty
The strings are out of tune

Behind this door
She sits at the piano
But she doesn't play anymore
Oh, that's been such a long time ago

There at the piano
I listened to her
And when her playing started
I held my breathe

She told me
'I'll stay with you forever'
But it only appeared like
She played only for me

I poured her blood
Into the fire of my rage
I locked the door
People asked for her

There at the piano
I listened to her
And when her playing started
I held my breathe

There at the piano
I stood by her
It only appeared like
She played only for me

The door is opened
Oh, how they scream
I hear the mother beg
The father is striking at me
They detach her from the piano
And nobody here believes me
That I'm terminally ill
from grief and stench (weird ass line, but hey the german one's weird too)

There at the piano
I listened to her
And when her playing started
I held my breath

There at the piano
She listened to me
And when my playing started
She held her breath (this is interpreted as him killing her, like, in the video Till chokes himself when he sings that)

xoxo K