Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Empty With You

Coming Back To You

by monstrice901 4 reviews

To get out of a downwards spiral...

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Warnings: [R] - Published: 2012-07-12 - Updated: 2012-07-12 - 4584 words

I don't really think the warning's needed, but then ya know, thought I'd play it safe. Also, this hasn't been beta-d again because... I don't know what's happening. And I'm too impatient to wait any longer. Anyway, if there are loads of mistakes in here A) sorry and B) please give me a heads up so I can try and sort something out.

Oh, and this might be the last chapter. Not because I plan on finishing this - because I've got my first flying lesson tomorrow. And I'm the blondest person alive. And it's Friday the 13th. Actually, I'm more worried about being blonde than meeting one of the Vorhees (i.e. the crazy mass murderers in F13th). Knowing me, I'll accidentally try and land upside down. So, yeah, if I die tomorrow... SORRY!

This is... Chapter 8


The next week was a living hell for the band, all on account of their singer.

The day after they got back from tour, Gerard disappeared off the face of the Earth; sparking huge amounts of panic and stress for the other three, as well as the rest of his friends. Mikey was calling his cell incessantly, but went straight through to answerphone each time. No one saw him, or heard anything from the frontman, and it was driving those close to him slightly insane.

It went like this; Ray and Christa went over to Gerard's house, just to see how he was. This was two days after their reunion, and the guitarist had had enough time to fill his wife in on the situation regarding the singer, and the ideas he and Mikey had about the older Way brother liking Frank. Also, about the incident at the beginning of the tour - the frontman sleeping with some man no one else knew (Iero had forgotten to tell the other guitarist about the lie Gerard had fed him - the one about the man being his boyfriend).

Christa agreed that Way probably did like Frank as more than a friend, but as to him sleeping with some other guy... well, she was clueless about that. When Ray told her about the inexplicable fight between the two men, she had suggested visiting the frontman, just to make sure he hadn't done anything drastic. Her husband agreed happily.

When they had arrived at the house though, there was no one there. The two weren't worried initially – the car may be in, but it wasn't as if Way couldn't have walked somewhere. Perhaps a friend had picked him up from his house. The couple had decided to wait for a bit, but after several hours, Gerard still hadn't appeared. They drove back home, feeling slightly concerned, but figuring he might have gone out of town for the day.

Back at their house, Ray had tried the singer's cell, but it went straight to messages. He left one, and they tried his house again two days later, with no luck. Calling him was futile – the same woman spoke the same words down the line each time, explaining how the other person 'can not be reached at this time' and to 'please try again later'. But this point, the couple were getting worried.

Their next step had been to go to Mikey. In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best idea. The younger Way had exploded at the news of his sibling's disappearance. He blamed himself – he knew something was wrong on that last day, he should have insisted that his brother stay with him.

In a last ditch attempt to calm the bassist, Ray had called Frank, hoping in vain that the singer was with him. But like the rest of them, Iero had seen neither hide nor hair of Gerard. That was when Mikey started to full on panic. The police were called and the frontman's house was searched, but with no luck. He was just... gone.

But despite the worry he was putting his friend’s through, the person having the worst week was easily Gerard. After his fight with Frank, he felt worse than he had a long time; worthless, stupid, pathetic. He wanted to feel as though he was desirable, worth something. And what better way to do that than to sleep with someone? To feel them sweaty and hard and hear panting and moaning and knowing it was all for him. How could that not boost your esteem?

It was scary how easily it was to fall back into the habit, and Stephen ensured he had a different man every night – sometimes even more than that. And amongst the lower class scum that littered the streets of LA, it was soon becoming known that any guy willing to pay would have a piece of famous ass as his for the night. If Gerard could hear some of the things being whispered about him, he never would have spoken to Stephen again. Of course, said man made sure his ears were well covered.

Way was now staying in the club the man owned, in one of the small rooms above the place. He had his wallet, so could buy food when he felt the need to eat (which was far less frequent than it should have been).

For the singer, having sex was like taking highly addictive drugs. Highly addictive drugs that always ended in a massive crash at the end of each hit. Feeling someone on him, hearing them moan for him was amazing, not to mention he got pleasure from the act as well. But the second it was over, and they had both cum, the feelings of worthlessness would crash back down on Gerard, but accompanied by another of filth.

As Frank had so cuttingly put it – he had become nothing more than a cheap whore. Way knew this full well, and he felt sick with himself. If only the fans could see their hero now!

After a week of having not heard from his brother, Mikey was ready to broadcast his disappearance over the local news, pleading him to come back, or if anyone had seen him, to fill them in. Frank had persuaded him not to offer any reward or go national – it was too soon for that, and would only prompt false claims, hoping to get some of the cash. The older man agreed reluctantly, though he was ready to treat the absence of his brother as year long disaster, not a week of disturbing quietness on the frontman’s part.

As it turned out though, Iero was right in not having offered any reward, or go any further than local channels. Gerard himself had seen the news, and his little brother begging him via the screen to come home. Shame and guilt washed over him as he realised he hadn’t told anyone he wasn’t staying in his house anymore, but in Stephen’s club, and his phone had been off the entire time.

He’d called Mikey immediately, assuring him that he was alright, and coming home immediately. The remorse he was feeling tripled when his sibling choked up over the phone.

As he hung up, Gerard sighed. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to tell his friends he’d be away for a while – he didn’t think they’d care and he certainly didn’t think they’d get this worried. He supposed leaning his phone off didn’t help, but all the same, it was a bit of an over reaction. But then... if it had been Mikey in his situation, and him in his brother’s, he wouldn’t have reacted any differently.

He went out of the small flat to the street outside, where he hailed a taxi. From there, he went straight to his brother’s house, to get yelled at for the next half hour. He didn’t blame his sibling though; again, he would have been exactly the same if the situations were reversed.

"What were you thinking, Gee? Why didn't you just call one of us?" Mikey eventually said, after yelling himself hoarse. It wasn't often he got so riled up about something.

"I just... I didn't think you'd get this worried." His brother mumbled in return.

"You were gone for an entire week with no phone calls, or anything. You didn't tell anyone you weren't gonna be around, and you didn't even take your car! Where the hell did you go anyway?"

"I was," Gerard paused, internally debating his answer. "Out of town. With Grant." The last bit was a bluff, obviously, and one he hoped his younger sibling wouldn't call.

"Ok." Mikey conceded eventually. "Just, don't disappear on us like that again, alright?"

"Yeah, ok." It was the least Gerard could to agree.

"And stay for dinner."

"Fine." The older brother smiled weakly at that.

No one who knew Alicia would be surprised to know that she couldn't cook for the life of her. When she had first started living with Mikey, they'd relied on ready cooked meals, and take outs, until her husband got bored of this, and decided he needed to learn how to cook. He wasn't particularly good at it, but at least pasta with some sort of sauce was better than pizza and Chinese every night.

The three camped out in the kitchen, Gerard teasing his brother for his sudden domesticity. They ate dinner talking (mostly about the new album, and how it was coming together) and then watched stupid soap-operas on TV, barely paying attention to the screen in favour of chatting over it. The oldest Way found himself slipping back into his preferred state of mind - the happy, easy going one. He fell asleep on the sofa.

At around midnight, the married couple went upstairs, Mikey grabbing some pillows and blankets for his brother. It was only they were in bed and well out of ear-shot of Gerard that Alicia turned to her husband with a questioning look. His sibling wasn't exactly her preferred choice of conversation, but Mikey had been so stressed about him recently, she knew that he had to talk about what was going on. If she didn't, her husband would just worry about it without ever voicing his concern, and they'd get nowhere.

"What did he say?" She asked softly.

"That he was out of town with Grant."



"I didn't know he was in the State. Or in the country for that matter."

"Neither did I. And you'd have thought, if it was Grant, he'd want to see the rest of us."

"You think he was lying?"

"I guess." Mikey confessed sadly.

"What if he was with Grant though? I mean, you said he'd been acting weirdly before the end of the tour. What if Gee just wanted to get away for a bit, and told Grant he didn't wanna see anyone."


"Call him. Ask. It's the only way we'll find out."

"It seems a bit... distrustful."

"It is." Alicia shrugged. "But it's not like he hasn't given us a reason to not trust him. If he was lying, we'll know; and if he wasn't, no harm done."

“True. I’ll call him in the morning, ok?”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Mikes.”

“Night, babe.”


“Love you too.”

The younger Way brother woke up late the next morning – his wife was already up, and he could hear her talking to Gerard in the kitchen. He couldn’t make out words, just the soft mumbles of speech distorted by the walls and carpets between the two rooms.

Mikey sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. As he thought about the conversation from the previous night, he realised now would be the ideal time to call Grant. He was reluctant to, partly because he hated to betray his brother’s trust, but also, what if the other man confessed that he hadn’t seen Gerard during the week? How was Mikey supposed to respond to that?

Sighing, he figured he may as well bite the bullet and just go for it. And if his brother hadn’t been with Morrison, well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

The was a landline on the bedside table next to him, one that had Grant’s number pre-programmed in to it. Way scrolled through it quickly, dialled the number, and held it to his ear to listen to the ringing. The Scottish man picked up after eight rings.

“Hello?” His strong accent rolled down the phone into Mikey’s ear.

“Hey, Grant? It’s me – Mikey.”

“Mike-ster! What can I do for you?”

“Are you in the the country at the moment?”

“What the US? No, I’m at home. How comes? You missing me?”

The younger man laughed, but it came out very strained, nervous. “Loads. So, you haven’t seen Gerard recently?”

“Gerard? Can’t say I have. Why, what’s up? You sound kinda... worried.”

“You don’t know half of it.” Way sighed. “Look, I’ve gotta go, figure out a shit storm. Talk you later, yeah?”

“Cool man. Good luck with the, uh, shite storm.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

“Bye.” And with those parting words, Grant hung up, leaving Mikey alone with his worry for his older brother.

Now what was he supposed to do?

Nothing as it transpired, as Ray, Christa and Jamia ended up coming over. The younger Way didn’t want to confront Gerard about his lies in front of an audience, but he did share his new found knowledge with Alicia. She bit her lip, and nodded, sending a nervous glance in her brother-in-law’s direction. He was chatting to Jamia, appearing happy enough.

For the rest of the day, the group chatted about mindless nonsense, in the way they always did. It was by no means un-enjoyable though, and Mikey felt relieved to have his brother within arm’s reach after him having been missing for so long: The week had been one of the longest in the younger sibling’s life.

When the others went, Gerard made his excuses as well, not wanting to impose on his brother and sister-in-law for any longer, not to mention feeling increasingly nervous that his lies would be discovered with every moment that he spent with them. So the singer drove home without Mikey having talked to him about what really happened.

For the first time in months, the man slept in his own bed, and felt more lonely than ever as a result. Stephen called - angry that he had just left. Way explained wearily what had happened, and said he wouldn't be up for anything any time soon. There wasn't really much the other man could do, and it was only because of this that he let it slide. It was on his mental to-do list though; to find a way in which to control Gerard more effectively.

The next day, Frank turned up around Mikey and Alicia's house. The guitarist had heard of Way's re-appearance, but didn't have the guts to show up yesterday. He still found it hard to even think about his friend, knowing that he was whoring himself out. And he didn't want to know how Gerard would react to him being there.

"Hi Iero." Alicia opened the door to let the man in.

"Hey, sorry to intrude – I was just wondering what’s going on with Gerard.” He replied, stepping in.

“Why don’t you ask him? He’s gone home now.”

“So I heard.”

“So you came here?” Alicia said incredulously. Mikey had told her the two were arguing, but this was just cowardly.

“Yeah, I... kinda don’t wanna see him at the moment.” Frank sighed.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Long story.” He shrugged.

Alicia frowned, curious, but didn’t question further. If the guitarist didn’t want to tell her – that was up to him.

“Frank?” Mikey asked, coming out of the kitchen.

“Hi, dude.”

“What you doing here?”

“I was wondering how Gerard was doing.”

“Ok, I guess. I don’t know where he was this past week, but it clearly wasn’t anywhere good.”

“How comes?” Frank leaned back against the wall, frowning.

“He lied – said he was with Grant. When I called him, he was in Scotland.”


“Yeah, tell me about it.” Mikey paused, gnawing his bottom lip worriedly. “Look, Frank do you know anything? Where he could have been, I mean? The whole thing just doesn’t feel right.”

The guitarist hesitated before lying. He knew damn well where the singer had been over the last few days... in some sleazy club in the city with different guys lying in between his legs every night. The thought made Iero feel sick. And telling Mikey would do no good.

“I have no idea man.” He replied.

Way nodded. “What were you arguing about then? At the end of the tour? Now, even?”

“I really don’t want to talk about that.”

“How comes? You two are best friends, man. And now, this isn’t good, especially what with everything that’s going on with Gee.”

“Look, I just... found something out.” Frank said slowly, testing each word in his mouth before speaking them. “Something about Gerard that I... really don’t like. And I just don’t think I could face him at the moment.”

“What the hell happened?” Mikey asked, although it was clear that he wasn’t going to get any more answers. “Ok, just talk to him? Please? It’s bad enough that all of this shit’s going on, without his best friend not speaking to him.” Not to mention possible crush. He added on the end, but only in his head.

“Ok, maybe. I’ll see what happens.” The guitarist replied. “Look, I better get going – I left the dogs at home, and they need walking anyway.”

Way laughed shortly. “You go do that. Please, please, please, talk to Gee though.”

“Fine. As soon as i figure out something to say.”

“Sounds fair.” Mikey conceded. “Bye Frank.”

“See you around.” The younger man replied. Then he yelled into the house; “Bye ‘Leesh.” After this, he turned on his heel and left.

Mikey watched him go, wondering when he’d follow up on his promise, and praying it would help his brother. He couldn’t even put his finger on what was worrying him so much, but something was off about the whole situation. Vaguely, he wondered if Lindsey had any idea, but he hadn’t spoken to his ex-sister-in-law in months. Somehow he didn’t intend to start again now. It things got worse with Gerard, then he would. In the mean time, pray that it just sorts itself out.

And for a while it did. Well, it seemed to at least.

The singer made sure to meet up with his friends on various days (never Frank though – in fact, he’d specifically check that the guitarist wasn’t coming before agreeing to go out with someone. He didn’t want to be around someone who knew how pathetic he really was), and call his brother from time to time. He never left his phone off again, and made sure to keep relatively well in contact with the people he knew.

It was a strain to do so, especially as night after night, he would go to Stephen’s club in order to get fucked. That was his drug, and it was becoming harder and harder to work his life around it. It would be easier to just give in and succumb to his addiction. Several weeks since the end of tour, the prospect of just falling into the hole he’d dug for himself was vastly appealing.

The sex was getting worse though, too. The men he was seeing seemed to feel that they had a sense of entitlement because they were paying. Recently, the fucking was barely even enjoyable now, but Way couldn’t go without it. He was in far too deep. But it was getting rougher, harder, faster and to be true, he was scared that one day it was just going to break him.

Gerard didn’t know what day it was that his fears came true. He’d just been out with Ray and Mikey, but what they’d been doing he couldn’t even remember. What he did recall was over-hearing his younger brother whispering to the guitarist that he looked worse again. The comment cut the singer in a way that he knew it wasn’t supposed to. He had stared at his younger sibling in horror. Upon realising that Gerard had heard, Mikey had apologised profusely, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

He had gone to Stephen’s club earlier than usual, just wanting to be fucked. He didn’t even know why anymore.

The man tonight was big – muscled and angry. At what, Way didn’t know, but he knew that he was at the receiving end of all that rage.

The torment went on for hours, the stranger getting off no less than four times from hurting the other man.

By the time the client was done, Way was a broken, snivelling mess on the floor. His pale skin was littered with bruises, and there was blood seeping out; from broken nails and sharp teeth dragging over him. That wasn’t the only source either – crimson was seeping out his back side. Everything hurt when he moved, even the small leaps of his chest as he sobbed caused pain.

Gerard lay there, not expecting help, but craving some. He wished he could call his brother, get him to pick him and crawl into his arms. But that would mean explaining to him what was going on in the first place, something that the singer desperately didn’t want to do. The same went for all his friends, bar Bert, who wasn’t even in the fucking country at the moment.

There was only one person left – one that he hadn’t spoken to out of rage and humiliation for over a month. But one that he wouldn’t have to make excuses to, because they knew what was going on. Grimly, Gerard dragged himself across the floor to where his cell phone was still located in the grotty bedside table. He flicked through the saved numbers, stopping on the one labelled ‘Frank’.

Even as he pressed the ‘call’ button, he was scared. Scared of rejection, scared of what harsh words the other would hiss at him.

But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Gerard was currently past even desperation. The ringing tone sounded in his ear, and he prayed for Iero to pick up, to listen to him.

Halfway across the city, Frank picked up his phone as it began to play tinny punk music at him. Then he blinked as he saw the screen illuminating the name of someone he hadn’t heard from in a while.

Iero frowned, debating whether or not to pick up. He still felt sickened by the knowledge of what his friend was doing, but his didn’t like fighting with the other man either. What if Way was calling with the intention of making amends?

Eventually Frank picked up the phone and held it to the side of his head.

“Gee?” He said softly.

“Frank?” The voice was distorted and crackly down the end of the line. It was also strained and hoarse, as though Gerard had been crying. “Help me.”

The guitarist felt his blood run cold. “What happened?”

“He hurt me. Raped me. Shit, I messed up so bad. Please, come and help?”

Frank wanted to weep at how desperate his friend sounded. “I will. Calm down Gerard, calm down.” He spoke soothingly, scrambling around madly for a pen and some paper. “Where are you? Can you give me an address?”

Way recited the street name and district he was in down the phone, and the younger felt chill run down his spine as he recognised the street name by its shady, seedy reputation. It was a disgusting place; an area that Frank wouldn’t usually go if you paid him.

But his friend sounding so hurt trumped money, and he was currently hunting for his car keys and sat nav. “Gee, I’ll be there as fast as I can, give me ten minutes, ok?”

“Hurry.” Was all Gerard replied.

“I will. See you in a few minutes.” Frank replied hurriedly, before hanging up and flying down the stairs to his car. He was staying in an apartment only twenty minutes drive away from the area that Way had specified. He could make it in less if he broke the speed limit.

Soon enough, he found himself outside the club that the singer had named, and was fumbling for his phone again. It was late, but the entire street was still teaming with life. Namely; strip clubs, prostitutes, off-licences and shady pubs. The place Gerard had named fit in the first category, but was one of the better looking places on the road.

Frank dialled his friend’s number quickly, to have the call answered before the first ring had ended. “Gerard, I’m outside, ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll come down. You got your car?”

“Course. Should I come in and help you? You sound like you’re in pain.”

“No.” The singer grunted. “Easier this way.” And then he hung up.

Iero sat in his car for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, waiting for his friend to emerge. Finally, Way stumbled out of a side alley running down the side of the club, looking scared, hurt and so vulnerable that it scared Frank. He climbed out of the side door, and ran over to his friend, forgetting that leaving your car unlocked in a place like this would probably result in you never seeing it again.

That was irrelevant though, with Gerard looking like this. When the guitarist reached him, he slung an arm around the older man’s waist and practically dragged him to the car.

“Come on Gee.” He said softly. “Get in the back seat. You can lie down there.”

Way did as he was told, practically drunk from the pain and exhaustion he was feeling. “Take me home.” He mumbled, just before Frank closed the door.

“I will, Gerard, I will.” Frank closed the door, and drove off, his emotions split down the centre.

Half of him was crying with pity for his friend and the mess he was in. Even if it was a hole that the singer had dug for himself, that didn’t make him any less pitiable.

The other half held a darker emotion – anger. He was burning, dying to return to the club and rip apart everyone in it, for they had either done this damage to his friend, or allowed it to happen. But that was just human nature, Frank mused as he drove through the brightly lit streets and back to his apartment.

Despite this craving, the only thing the guitarist was going to do now was return home and tend to his friend. Mending him took priority over vengeance any day.

Full of mistakes? Or am I safe?

Also, I'm regretting having a bacon sandwich right now. Meh. Cake will counter-act that. I am having a really healthy day!

Got to stop rambling like this!

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