Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Nobody's Perfect, So Stop Trying.

24. The Only Hope For Me Is You.

by BulletproofNinja 18 reviews

Frank goes back to school and Gerard is left alone in the house. *R for violence* D:

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Characters: Bob Bryar,Frank Iero,Gerard Way,Mikey Way,Ray Toro - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2012-09-18 - Updated: 2012-09-19 - 3372 words

HI GUYS!!! Right, first things first- OH MY FUCKING GOD, CONVENTIONAL WEAPONS!!!! DA FUQ?!?!?! ASDFGHJKL I'M SO FREAKING EXCITED RIGHT NOW!!!!! ahem Sorry about that.... I got a little over-excited. ANYWAY, about the story. Another update (No shit, Becky -_-). The ending for this was a little rushed and I'm sorry about that, but I've had a little bit of writers block lately and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting like last time. This chapter is... Well, I dunno, a little bit weird. I don't know how, but it felt weird writing it. And NO, it isn't smut, before you get excited, I just felt weird. O.o I'm a nut job. -_- Sorry for rambling, but rate and review? Make mama happeh! :D

Title from MCR... Obviously. I just freaking love them. So yeah... LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!

Enjoy the chapter! :D
~BulletproofNinja xo

Chapter 24- The Only Hope For Me Is You.

Gerard's POV

It feels weird knowing that Frank isn't here. It's probably because he's been with me constantly for the past three or something days, but it just doesn't feel right. He and Mikey are at school, which leaves me alone with my Mom in the house.

It's not as if Frank wanted to go, in fact it was quite the opposite. He started making excuses like 'What if your Mom has to go out?' or 'I can take care of you.' and other things like that. I declined though, not wanting to fuck up either of their educations. And with that, he left the house looking worried and nervous, as though he thought something bad was going to happen to me.

I wish I hadn't sent him away though, I do need him. His presence over the past few days has helped me keep my mind off of the 'incident'. Yeah, I still think about it when he's here, but he always helps me, comforts me until I'm okay again. Now he's gone, I'm left to my own thoughts, and anyone who knows the real me knows that isn't a good thing.

I sigh as I pull my hood up over my head, the wall proving useful to lean against. My legs are curled up into my chest and my arms are hugging my knees. I rock back and forth gently, humming to myself. It may seem weird, but I've always done it whenever I want to escape my thoughts. My whole family on my Mom's side do it, they say I inherited it from them. I just think it's soothing, I don't care where it came from. At the moment, it's doing an awesome job of distracting me, keeping my mind under control.

I want Frank here. I know I sound totally pathetic and needy, but I do. I love him, he's so amazing. No matter how I'm feeling, he just stands next to me and makes me forget everything. I don't really know how to explain it, but he's just... Everything I've ever wanted.

I sigh again and stop rocking. What am I doing? My life is so pathetic. I mean, look at me, I've just spent the past five minutes rocking back and forth like a crazy person. I'm so ridiculous. Oh God here we go again....

This is all my fault, if I hadn't let Andy do what he did, I wouldn't be like this. I was doing great before that! I had been eating more, talking more and I haven't cut for nine days! I can feel the willpower that I've been building up over the past few weeks fading away, just waiting for me to snap and do something I'll regret.

My eyes keep on flicking to my dresser, staring at the top drawer where the blade that was my only friend for five years is kept.

Just one time wouldn't hurt, would it?
No! It wouldn't be one time, I would keep going, I can't! I can't let Frankie down like that!
He'd understand. You've been through a lot lately. He'd understand...
Would he? He wasn't angry last time... Maybe he would understand...

And just like that, my willpower fades.

I get on my hands and knees and crawl across my mattress until I reach the end of the bed. The floor is cold as I place my feet gently on the wood, sending a shiver down my spine. As I make my way over to the dresser, my conscience is still trying to fight its corner, trying to get me to stop. I can't though, I just need it this one time!

Just this once and that's it!

But you know that it won't be just this once, don't you? Once you do this, you won't be able to stop again.

I sigh, knowing that the voice is right. But just because it's right, it doesn't mean I have to listen to it, does it?

The dresser creaks as I pull open the top drawer slowly, the contents revealing themselves. I rifle through the clothes until I find the razor blade. Just looking at it brings back the memory of how good it feels and a warm feeling spreads itself through my body.

The pain will finally go away, I finally have something to help! I'm smiling properly for the first time in days as I walk over to the en suite, the blade cold against my palm.

When the lock clicks shut behind me, I turn and look at the bathroom. God, why were the walls painted white? It hurts my head so much!

I shake my head, dismissing the distracting thoughts as I slide down the wall to sit on the smooth tiles. I'm too eager to even think about where to make the cut, so I just go for the easy option and go for my wrist. I roll up the left sleeve of the baggy black and red sweater and stare down at the porcelain skin stained with the shiny scars of my sorrow. For the first time ever, I feel proud of the scars. I don't know why, but I do. It's just the fact that it's something that I've done, something that I can control, opposed to the other things in my pitiful life. I raise the blade in front of my face, turning it as I admire the way the light glints of it's comforting but deadly surface.

"Here we go..." I mutter, a bubble of what almost seems like excitement rising within me.

I place a kiss to the cold metal before taking it to my damaged wrist.

From the moment the blade breaks the skin on my arm, I remember why I started doing this in the first place. The pain of the fragile skin breaking as I drag the razor blade across it makes me feel alive. I bite my lip in discomfort, but I can't help wanting more.

Just a couple more wouldn't hurt...

I decide to listen to the voice in my head, bringing the razor down a second time, making yet another cut across the paper thin porcelain. I don't think I'll ever tire of this feeling. The feeling of tearing skin has become so familiar to me, it's been my only comforter for these past five or so years. I never want to let this go.

The pain is starting to make my head go fuzzy, but that doesn't stop me. I bring the neck of my sweater up to my mouth and bite down on it, preventing any sound escaping. It's almost as if the blade has a mind of its own, the way it glides across my skin without me having to think about it at all. I don't care to be honest, I'm just glad to finally be doing this.

I close my eyes as my hand continues slicing up the delicate flesh of my wrist. There's a lot of blood now, but I don't care at the moment. I just want all this pent up anger, all this self-loathing to go away.

When I finally stop butchering my arm, I open my eyes and drop the razor to the floor with a soft clatter of metal. Upon looking down at my wrist, I see about fifteen lines of scarlet crisscrossing the skin there. The satisfaction I thought I'd feel doesn't come, and the adrenaline is wearing off, leaving me feeling even more deflated than before. Each line of scarlet is dripping with ruby red blood, bits of my soul going with it.

Now I remember why I needed to stop. Each time I do this, it takes even more of me away, makes me even more of an empty shell. I can't stop it though, and after today I won't be able to stop! Oh, god, I've fucked up again!!!

"I suppose I'd better clean this up." I heave a big sigh and push myself off the floor. The room spins as I try to steady myself, obviously from the loss of blood, but I don't pass out this time. I walk over to my medicine cabinet and pull out my trusted first aid kit.

I look up and at my reflection in the mirror. It's the first time I've seen myself in days, and I look an absolute mess. Underneath my eyes are ugly, dark circles, making me look like a creature of the undead. My hair is matted and sticking up at awkward angles, a mess of oily black. My complexion is a grey-ish white colour, which makes me look deathly sick. I look terrible.

My reflection recieves a scowl and a sigh, before I turn back to tending to my wrist.


The ceiling of my bedroom looks too bright, too out of place against the dark walls surrounding me. I just stare up at it, my hands behind my head. It's a little hard to concentrate on anything right now, because the throbbing in my wrist is strong and distracting, making it hard to think straight.

I know I shouldn't have done what I did, but I can't bring myself to regret it. I know I should, because I know what it would do to my Mom and Mikey if they find out. I know what it would do to Frankie... Oh, God.

I sit up straight, my eyes widening in horror as I think of Frankie. How could I do this to him? I told him I'd be fine on my own today, and he believed me. He's going to be so disappointed in me if he finds out.

I turn my gaze down to my wrist and see tiny blood spatters seeping through the thick layers of white bandages wrapped around it. I can hide this... Can't I? I've done it for years, I can keep it up for a few more.

My thoughts are interrupted by my Mom hollering down the stairs at me. "Gerard, honey?" I can hear footsteps above me as she walks to my door. "Gerard?"

"Yeah mom?"

"Can you come up here a sec?" I pull down my sleeve and make my way up the stairs.

I open the door to see my Mom standing there with a guilty look on her face. "Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry about this, but I have to go out for a while. I've been called into work, it's an emergency. I wouldn't do it if it wasn't, you know I wouldn't. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine, Mom. You go, I don't need looking after." I smile reassuringly at her, although my insides are telling a different story.

"Are you sure?" I nod. "Okay, if you're sure. Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

I nod again. "Okay, I promise Mom. You go, your work needs you."

"Thanks, Gee. You're so brave, you know that?" She gives me a kiss on the forehead, making me feel instantly better. God, I love my Mom.

She goes to walk away from me, but I reach out and grab her arm, stopping her from leaving. She turns back to me and I encase her in a big hug, ignoring the painful protests of my wrist. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, not wanting to leave the comfort of my mother's arms.

"Gee, you'll be fine." She coos softly in my ear, stoking the back of my head as I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck, feeling as though I'm five years old again. I pull away and sniff, looking down at her as I try and blink back my tears.

"I love you Mom." She smiles warmly, and turns away with a happy expression on her face. It feels good to know I've made her happy. "I'll see you later."


I've never felt so scared to be in the house on my own before. I know I didn't speak much to my Mom when she was here, but it was reassuring just to know she was in the house. Now I know that I'm all alone, and it's putting me on edge. I may act as though I'm not that affected by recent events, but it's affected me more than anybody thinks. It's disturbed my sleep even more, everytime I come close to unconsciousness my thoughts drift to how helpless I felt that day, how weak and pathetic I was. Every noise I hear makes me flinch out of fear that Andy's come back to get me for telling people it was him.

I want my Frankie.

No, I don't want him, I need him. I need him, but I can't have him right now, he's at school. Maybe I could call him? He wouldn't mind....

No, I can't call him. I'll wait it out, maybe it will help me get over it. I walk over to the sitting room and go to the DVD shelf. I pick out the first case that my hand comes into contact with and put it in the DVD player without even looking at what it is.

I sink down into the sofa, curling into myself, knees up under my chin as I wait for the movie to start. I can't help but listen carefully to any background noises, my paranoia growing stronger by the minute.

My nerves calm down a little when the title screen appears. Ooh, Taken. I love that film, Liam Neeson is a boss. I smile to myself as I settle down to watch the movie.

It's about half way through that I start to feel uneasy again. I can't shake the feeling that I'm not alone. I know it's stupid, because both doors are locked, there's no other way of getting in. I sigh again and kick off the sofa, walking out of the sitting room without switching the tv off.

My room is dark as I trudge down the wooden staircase, each step causing the worn planks to creak beneath my feet. I can still hear the sounds of crashing and gunshots from the tv upstairs, but I take no notice of it.

The bathroom seems very appealing right now, I just want to stay in there forever sometimes. This is one of those times. It feels as though I should go in there and never leave, I should let everyone get on with their lives...

For fuck sake, not this again...

I snap myself out of my self hating thoughts and run back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I need to call Frankie, I can't be alone any more.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, my hands shaking as sobs begin to send shudders through my body.

I can barely see as I punch in Frank's number, the tears clouding my eyes. I try and calm myself down as I bring the phone to my ear. The whole house is silent, save for my shallow breathing and cries.

Please pick up, Frank. Please pick up!


"Frankie!" I burst, a mixture of a sob and a shout of relief. "Frankie, it's me."

"Gerard, what's wrong? What happened?" He sounds panicky, probably worried out of his mind.

"Nothing, but I can't be alone." I take a deep breath to calm myself before carrying on. "Can you come and stay with me?"

"Of course, Gee! I'll leave now, I'll be there in about half an hour! Will you be okay until then?"

"Yeah, just hurry? Please? I need you." I hear a strange noise in response.

"Of course, just hang on angel." He sounds all choked up.

"I will, I'll see you soon. Love you." I sniff and wipe my eyes.

"Love you too." Frank hangs up and I return to my post on the sofa, my knees returning to their position under my chin.

I lose track of time, but before I know it there's a knock at the door. Frankie!

I jump off the sofa and run to the door, flinging it open without checking through the peep hole. "Frank! You-" I stop in my tracks, frozen to the spot.

It's not Frank. It's Andy.

I stand there with my mouth wide open, half out of shock and half out of fear... Why is he here?

"Hello, Gerard." He says with a quiet, dangerous voice. I snap out of the trance I'm in and move to slam the door in his face.

"Not so fast, you little bastard." He snarls, sticking his foot in the door frame, pushing it back open again. "We have unfinished business."

"How do you know where I live?" I ask, scared.

"I may or may not have followed you home over the last few months." He replies casually, biting his nails as he speaks. "Now, where were we?" He smiles sadistically, stepping forward.

"Andy, what do you want from me?" I cry, backing away from him as he enters my house.

"You told." He says, edging closer towards me. "I told you what I'd do if that happened." He gives a sick little smirk before pushing me to the floor.

"Andy, please!" I plead with him, sounding pathetic and desperate. "Don't do this again! Please don't hurt me!"

"Ah, you see, I just can't do that." He says in a mock apologetic voice. "Because you know, people need to learn their lesson when they do something wrong, don't they?"

"But I didn't do anything wrong!" Come on, Frank, where are you?!

"Au contraire, mon petit cherie." He smirks, clearly finding himself hilarious. "You did everything wrong." His casual expression turns to one of hatred, and he spits on me. He then starts kicking me in the stomach, putting a lot of force into each blow.

"You're a fucked up little freak, who's so pathetic he has to cut himself to feel better." He crouches down next to me and lifts up my arm. "Any more lately? Did you feel oh so traumatised by what happened the other day that you decided to slice yourself up some more?" I'm crying now, but I still manage to rip my arm out of his grip.

"Fuck off." I say with more force than I thought possible.

"Hmm..." Andy says, putting a finger to his chin. "Yeah... No, I don't think I'm gonna do that. " He starts punching and kicking me again. I curl up into a ball on the floor, trying to block as many hits as I can.

Just as I feel as though I'm about to black out, I feel Andy move away from me.

"You bastard!" A familiar voice rings throughout the house. I move my arms away from my head and look up.

"Frankie." I whisper, unable to speak properly.

He came back for me.

How was it? Sorry if the ending was bad, I just really wanted to post this tonight. Rate and review for happy ninja? I'll give you Paolo Nutini! You don't like him? D: Fine, you can have one of Fronkeh's 532194727571636153 dogs. Happy? Good. ANYWAY, I hope you enjoyed!
Much love,
~BulletproofNinja xo

(SIDENOTE- Thanks for turning chapter 23 green, you guys! It means a lot :P)
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