Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Powerless
A/N: This is a bit of a weird chapter. It didn't feel right putting the upcoming action scene in with the rest of it, so I'm separating them. Just a heads-up.
That night, I slept in the El Camino again. Gerard said it was because of the chances of someone unidentified coming by; we’d basically have to beat it like a bat outta hell. And the few feet from the pub to the car is too much of a risk to take. It was just like the last time the two of us slept in there, except for the present lack of tension. The first time, it was a mental battle on my part; do what he said, or man up and try to get out. For him, it must have been more of a practice. A ritual. He’s been doing this for so long that I was no different than the last body he slashed. All human, and all worthy of punishment in his eyes.
Or in his boss’ eyes, more accurately.
But this time, it was different. I’m in no way implying that the fear factor was gone, but it was like as soon as he heard that I was joining them, his heart softened towards me. I don’t know why, nor can I pinpoint if that’s even when it happened. All I know is that this time, he talked to me like I was more than just another slashed-body-to-be. He talked to me like I was a person of my own; he listened to my opinions and exchanged them with his own. Parts of his life came into discussion, too.
He told me more about his childhood. He was just like me; smart, unique, and for all the world could see, promising. Through school, he was always the smart one, but unlike me, he was heavily bullied for it. I was merely teased a bit by the odd person, and I was always good at deflecting it, but Gerard on the other hand was beaten up daily. He went to a rough school in Belleville, where the kids were fearless and acclimatized to the necessary way of life. They were ruthless, and up until grade 10, he somehow managed to push though it. But come the middle of grade 10, he dropped out. What happened after that, and how he got from there to where he is now, he wouldn’t say.
Our conversation left me thinking, and consequently I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. People always think of his type as heartless and robotic. Non-human, even. And to have the chance to speak to a “cold-hearted killer” face-to-face, was mind-blowingly insightful. The man in front of me was not a cold-hearted killer. He was vulnerable, delicate, and as human as it gets.
Everyone – regardless of who they are and what they have done in their life – has a story, and feelings. They’re just like you and I, just with different mistakes.
“Frank?”
“Huh?” I turned around.
“Zoned out, did we?” Gerard chuckled, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Yeah.” I said. “Didn’t really sleep last night.”
“Well maybe you should’ve. We’re here.”
I looked outside the car window, and a few blocks away was the White House, in all it’s grandiose glory.
“Are you sure this is the only way?” I asked.
“Damn sure.” He replied. “Their system is too secure to access it indirectly.”
“Have you all had to do this?”
“Not all of us. Some of us suck balls at computers, to be honest. We get as many as we can to do it, though.”
“Did you?”
“No.” He grunted hesitantly. “I’m still on file.”
“Then how come you-“
“Put my last name as my code?” He interrupted. “Simple. I’m still on file, yet I’ve never been caught. To them, I’m a criminal mastermind, and why the hell would a criminal mastermind use their last name as a code?”
The devious smile on his face worried me slightly. He’s good at this. Almost like he can hack into minds; forget computers.
Then why did he lie to me about his reason?
Who cares, Frank? You’ve got bigger fish to fry.
“So… what do we do?” I asked nervously.
“First, we get you to the closest homeless shelter. I can’t stay in one place for long, but you can. I’ll circle you.” He said as he pulled out onto the road. “You need a fucking shower. Nobody’s gonna buy your business guy shit when you literally smell like shit.”
Oh Gerard, stop. You’re too funny.
We found a homeless shelter about 15 minutes away. He dropped me at the door, told me to shower and then wait outside for him. Questioning the solidity of his great plan, I pushed the doors open and went over to the first volunteer I saw.
“Hey.” I said, trying to remain calm and casual. “Any chance I could find a shower in this place?”
The young woman, about 25 I’d say, looked up from the bed she was making and gestured for me to follow her.
“Right this way. Anything else you need?”
“Nah, that’s all, thanks.”
She led me into the presumed shower room, which was surprisingly vacant. I took the first empty stall to my left, threw my clothes over the door, and turned the dial to the hottest setting it would let me. Steaming water cascaded around me; it was like standing under one of those exotic waterfalls you see in commercials, except I was in a damn homeless shelter.
Minor detail.
When I was done, I put my clothes back on, and slid out of the place as discreetly as I could. It’s awkward enough just being in the place, forget that I’m not even fucking homeless. Technically…
Thankfully, I got out without another volunteer approaching me. I stood outside and waited in the warm sun for a few minutes before Gerard pulled up and I joined him once again.
“So. How was it?” He laughed sarcastically.
“As a matter of fact, I had a great time.” I answered, trying to keep a straight face. “I forgot what it was like to feel clean.”
“Well, you’re about to feel cleaner.”
He dug into the small leather bag beneath his seat and pulled out a variety of hygiene products.
“Here. Deodorant, comb, cologne, yada yada. Your suit’s in the back, I’ll get it when we’re parked.”
“Oooh, I get a suit?” I enthused, without even meaning to.
“What, you think you’re gonna wander into the fucking White House in that?” He asked, pointing to my dirt-laden, tattered clothes. “At least you pulled off the homeless thing.”
“I see your point.”
We drove for a few more minutes, then he pulled into a vacated parking lot a couple of blocks from where we first were. It was dark, and hidden behind two large brick buildings.
“I’ll get your suit.”
After finishing up with them, I returned the hygiene products to the leather bag. I heard Gerard slam the trunk shut, and he sat back down in the driver’s seat and handed me my suit.
“This is nice. Where the hell did you get it?”
“Not important. What is important though, is that you get the damn thing on.” He smirked.
“Uh… right here?”
“I won’t look.” He said, turning his head to the window to his left. “Just holler when you’re done.”
…Okay?
I scrambled into the suit as best as I could in a somewhat cramped car. I wasn’t exactly sure whether I could believe him that he wouldn’t look, but sure enough, he didn’t.
“I’m done.”
He turned back to me.
“Good, good.”
He drove back off to our original space, where I could once again see the White House in almost full-view.
“Go get ‘em, tiger.” He smiled; like a father at his son’s soccer game.
“I’ll try.”
As I was opening the door and starting to get out, he grabbed my hand and pulled me back into my seat.
“You forgot these.”
He handed me the self-combusting phone and universal key I had been given back at the pub, along with his pistol.
“You’re gonna need them.”
That night, I slept in the El Camino again. Gerard said it was because of the chances of someone unidentified coming by; we’d basically have to beat it like a bat outta hell. And the few feet from the pub to the car is too much of a risk to take. It was just like the last time the two of us slept in there, except for the present lack of tension. The first time, it was a mental battle on my part; do what he said, or man up and try to get out. For him, it must have been more of a practice. A ritual. He’s been doing this for so long that I was no different than the last body he slashed. All human, and all worthy of punishment in his eyes.
Or in his boss’ eyes, more accurately.
But this time, it was different. I’m in no way implying that the fear factor was gone, but it was like as soon as he heard that I was joining them, his heart softened towards me. I don’t know why, nor can I pinpoint if that’s even when it happened. All I know is that this time, he talked to me like I was more than just another slashed-body-to-be. He talked to me like I was a person of my own; he listened to my opinions and exchanged them with his own. Parts of his life came into discussion, too.
He told me more about his childhood. He was just like me; smart, unique, and for all the world could see, promising. Through school, he was always the smart one, but unlike me, he was heavily bullied for it. I was merely teased a bit by the odd person, and I was always good at deflecting it, but Gerard on the other hand was beaten up daily. He went to a rough school in Belleville, where the kids were fearless and acclimatized to the necessary way of life. They were ruthless, and up until grade 10, he somehow managed to push though it. But come the middle of grade 10, he dropped out. What happened after that, and how he got from there to where he is now, he wouldn’t say.
Our conversation left me thinking, and consequently I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. People always think of his type as heartless and robotic. Non-human, even. And to have the chance to speak to a “cold-hearted killer” face-to-face, was mind-blowingly insightful. The man in front of me was not a cold-hearted killer. He was vulnerable, delicate, and as human as it gets.
Everyone – regardless of who they are and what they have done in their life – has a story, and feelings. They’re just like you and I, just with different mistakes.
“Frank?”
“Huh?” I turned around.
“Zoned out, did we?” Gerard chuckled, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Yeah.” I said. “Didn’t really sleep last night.”
“Well maybe you should’ve. We’re here.”
I looked outside the car window, and a few blocks away was the White House, in all it’s grandiose glory.
“Are you sure this is the only way?” I asked.
“Damn sure.” He replied. “Their system is too secure to access it indirectly.”
“Have you all had to do this?”
“Not all of us. Some of us suck balls at computers, to be honest. We get as many as we can to do it, though.”
“Did you?”
“No.” He grunted hesitantly. “I’m still on file.”
“Then how come you-“
“Put my last name as my code?” He interrupted. “Simple. I’m still on file, yet I’ve never been caught. To them, I’m a criminal mastermind, and why the hell would a criminal mastermind use their last name as a code?”
The devious smile on his face worried me slightly. He’s good at this. Almost like he can hack into minds; forget computers.
Then why did he lie to me about his reason?
Who cares, Frank? You’ve got bigger fish to fry.
“So… what do we do?” I asked nervously.
“First, we get you to the closest homeless shelter. I can’t stay in one place for long, but you can. I’ll circle you.” He said as he pulled out onto the road. “You need a fucking shower. Nobody’s gonna buy your business guy shit when you literally smell like shit.”
Oh Gerard, stop. You’re too funny.
We found a homeless shelter about 15 minutes away. He dropped me at the door, told me to shower and then wait outside for him. Questioning the solidity of his great plan, I pushed the doors open and went over to the first volunteer I saw.
“Hey.” I said, trying to remain calm and casual. “Any chance I could find a shower in this place?”
The young woman, about 25 I’d say, looked up from the bed she was making and gestured for me to follow her.
“Right this way. Anything else you need?”
“Nah, that’s all, thanks.”
She led me into the presumed shower room, which was surprisingly vacant. I took the first empty stall to my left, threw my clothes over the door, and turned the dial to the hottest setting it would let me. Steaming water cascaded around me; it was like standing under one of those exotic waterfalls you see in commercials, except I was in a damn homeless shelter.
Minor detail.
When I was done, I put my clothes back on, and slid out of the place as discreetly as I could. It’s awkward enough just being in the place, forget that I’m not even fucking homeless. Technically…
Thankfully, I got out without another volunteer approaching me. I stood outside and waited in the warm sun for a few minutes before Gerard pulled up and I joined him once again.
“So. How was it?” He laughed sarcastically.
“As a matter of fact, I had a great time.” I answered, trying to keep a straight face. “I forgot what it was like to feel clean.”
“Well, you’re about to feel cleaner.”
He dug into the small leather bag beneath his seat and pulled out a variety of hygiene products.
“Here. Deodorant, comb, cologne, yada yada. Your suit’s in the back, I’ll get it when we’re parked.”
“Oooh, I get a suit?” I enthused, without even meaning to.
“What, you think you’re gonna wander into the fucking White House in that?” He asked, pointing to my dirt-laden, tattered clothes. “At least you pulled off the homeless thing.”
“I see your point.”
We drove for a few more minutes, then he pulled into a vacated parking lot a couple of blocks from where we first were. It was dark, and hidden behind two large brick buildings.
“I’ll get your suit.”
After finishing up with them, I returned the hygiene products to the leather bag. I heard Gerard slam the trunk shut, and he sat back down in the driver’s seat and handed me my suit.
“This is nice. Where the hell did you get it?”
“Not important. What is important though, is that you get the damn thing on.” He smirked.
“Uh… right here?”
“I won’t look.” He said, turning his head to the window to his left. “Just holler when you’re done.”
…Okay?
I scrambled into the suit as best as I could in a somewhat cramped car. I wasn’t exactly sure whether I could believe him that he wouldn’t look, but sure enough, he didn’t.
“I’m done.”
He turned back to me.
“Good, good.”
He drove back off to our original space, where I could once again see the White House in almost full-view.
“Go get ‘em, tiger.” He smiled; like a father at his son’s soccer game.
“I’ll try.”
As I was opening the door and starting to get out, he grabbed my hand and pulled me back into my seat.
“You forgot these.”
He handed me the self-combusting phone and universal key I had been given back at the pub, along with his pistol.
“You’re gonna need them.”
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