FicWad

((I'm so sorry I had to get off- anyway, I'll continue on the SUPERSLOW computer...))

Gerard's blur moved closer to me, and a touch lingered on my shoulder. It was warm, nice, light... And it nearly made me jump out of my skin. It was then that I realized I was still shaking, frozen in fear at the sight of the blood... Blood everywhere.
"Eve, you're going to need to tell me what exactly happened." He said calmly, and I squeezed my eyes shut, the shaking starting to fade. With the shaking almost gone, the tears flowed more smoothely.
"I-I knew he was g-going to d-do it, I just kn-knew it." I closed my eyes and placed my cold palms against my face. I didn't notice it, but Gerard was sitting next to me, his arm around my shoulders. "I just didn't think he'd actually... Do it right then and there." My voice evened, but it faltered in the end and I cradled my head in my hands.
"Hey, everything's fine, all right? Nothing's going to hurt you." He was sitting really close to me now, and I was so emotional I didn't even think to actually smile about the fact that Gerard Way was holding me.
There was a jingle at the door, and then the fussing of a key in the lock. Finally it opened, and Mikey came in the room.
"Oh," He said quietly, seeing me. "Bad time?" He said, sliding off his shoes and walking past us and into the kitchen, still looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
"Do you want a blanket? Or something to eat?" He asked, and I shook my head. Staring at the off-white wall in front of me. "Eve, where's your Dad?" My gaze faltered from the wall and my eyes flickered towards his, but I couldn't glare at him. It wasn't his fault the man had gone suicide.
Gee stood, turning to the confused Mikey and leading him into the kitchen for a moment. I felt Mikey's eyes glued to me from the door that lead to the kitchen, and he nodded. Before I knew it, Gerard was sitting next to me and Mikey was watching from a safe distance.
"Is he in trouble?" I shook my head, and Gerard seemed to stifle a sigh. "Eve, you have to tell me what happened." His hand was not on my hand, and I felt his warm touch on me. Almost hysterically, I laughed slightly. Yes; I laughed. Soon the laugh formed with tears, and I cradled my head again.
"Oh, he's not in trouble," I said, laughing. "Damn. Damn. Shit. I never thought I'd tell you this, of all people." I smiled, laughing slightly. "No, he's not in trouble. Dammit, he's dead."
Once that was off my chest, my feet were sore from not wearing shoes and running on pavement. My hands were bloodied, and I had smeared some blood on my face also- blood mixed with tears covered my thighs. My fingers and knees were cramped up, and I felt like I'd never move again. Gerard was standing, Mikey was only two strides away from him, both were trying not to stare at me. I ran a hand through my hair, and frowned finally. I wouldn't laugh again.
"How is he..." Mikey began, but I cut him off.
"I'm pretty sure he blew his brains out in his bedroom." I said, unzipping my sweatshirt and for once leaning back in the chair.
"Mikey, you stay here... I'm going to her house." He turned to me and I looked up at him, for the first time actually into his eyes.
"There's a shower upstairs, and Mikey can find some clothes for you. If you're hungry I'm sure Mikey can help you with that." And with that he walked out the door. I stood, and Mikey already had clothes for me.
"Thank you," I said quietly, walking upstairs to the shower. I found it easily, the first door on the right. I was uncomfortable using their shower because I barely knew them, but I made it quick - maybe 10 or 15 minutes. When I was done I picked the least-used-looking towel and dried myself off, then picking up the clothes Mikey had given me- light blue pajama pants and a black shirt that said 'Green Day' on it. The shirt actually fit pretty tightly- considering it was for a early-twenties man.
I walked down stairs while tying my wet hair in a bun. I took my dirty clothes and slid them inside my black hoodie, then placing that next to my shoes.
"Um, are you hungry, or anything?" Mikey called from the kitchen, and I walked over into the kitchen.
"It depends. What do you have?" I asked, and he seemed to want to laugh.
"Like, nothing." He said, and I opened the fridge to see some beer, milk from probably last year, and eggs that seemed from that century.
"Do you have a pan and baking spray?" I asked, grabbing the eggs and closing the fridge.
"I'm afraid to say that you'll have to make that yourself, or you'll be eating black eggs." He confessed, getting out a pan and the baking spray, along with a spatula.
"Thank you." I said to the cooking utensils, and then smiled. "No offense, but I wouldn't trust you to make me toast. I've heard rumors that you aren't a very good cook." I said as I sprayed the pan and opened the eggs.
"Do you want anything I can make out of eggs?" I asked, cracking ony egg on the pan and placing the pan on the stove. I flicked on the switch to meduim and leaned against the counter.
"No thanks. Raincheck." He said, walking into the living room and flipping on the tv across from the couch. I shook my head, and turned to see the egg on the verge of burning. I grabbed the spatula and flipped it over, watching it cook for only a bit more before grabbing a fork. I won't even use a plate, I thought, eating the fried egg straight out of the pan. When I glanced in the other room, I saw Mikey curse and sigh at the game he was playing. I tilted my head, analyzed the problem, and smiled.
"Hey, Mikey, don't you think maybe you should go around the tank by sliding in that hole in the building? I mean, the hole in the building that you make by letting the tank fire at you?"
"He paused the game, looking at me funny.
"How did you..." He began, but I just smiled and kept watching, shaking my head every time I knew the answer and he couldn't figure it out.
My Dad used to play this game, and I watched him almost every time he did.