Why hello there, dear readers. It is I, MCRmygirl, reporting to you live from my Technology class. I am in pain in the ear, so it seems only fitting to post this story. Please let me know what y'all think! (Random change to southern accent)

Gerard threw the newspaper onto the table in front of him and dropped his head into his hands, holding back a sob. The headline was bright and obnoxious in Sunday color – SINGER GERARD WAY GOES DEAF DUE TO FREAK ACCIDENT. TOUR CANCELLED. Below the bright banner were two pictures to back the article – one of Gerard and the band, rocking on stage in Montreal… and one of just Gee, bandages wrapped around his head and an IV stuck in his arm. Despite his indescribable feelings of pain and loss, sighting the needle in his skin made him shudder. He wrapped a hand tightly around the disappearing bruise on his arm and had to struggle even more fiercely not to cry.

It had been like this for two weeks now. Ever since the bus had been hit, press was chomping at the bit for anything to feed to the people. As soon as the doctors had agreed that his hearing would not return to him, everyone in the world had suddenly known. People had sent him pity letter after pity letter, apologizing. Two weeks, and the things were still coming in, the news reporters still gossiping. Gerard hated it. It was great to know people cared, but he didn't want their pity. He wanted his damn hearing back so he could sing again. Singing was his life, the music was his soul. But he couldn't sing if he couldn't hear. Fuck, he couldn't even talk!

Gerard let the tears fall as he crossed his room to his bed and dropped down on it. The most horrid thought crossed his mind – he would never hear his daughter's voice. He wouldn't hear her first word, or her sobbing explanation when some boy inevitably broke her heart. It was bad enough never being able to hear Mikey's voice again, or Frank's, or Ray's – but at least there he had a memory. With Bandit… he had nothing. No way to every hear her say his name or even laugh. Never.

Gerard began slamming his fists against the wall of his bedroom, screaming loudly. He could feel his voice catch in his throat and he choked on it, breaking back into sobs. He couldn't hear his own screaming, but he knew sound had come out of his mouth. His aching throat could testify for that. But what was the point of screaming your anguish to the sky if you can't hear the reply?

Gerard jumped nearly out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't heard the door open. Of course you didn't, idiot! his mind shouted. You can't hear a damn thing! Looking up, Gee realized that it was Mikey who had interrupted his breakdown. Mikey was holding tight to a mug of steaming coffee. Gerard reached out for the drink like a young child reaching for a toy. Mikey smiled a sad smile and watched as Gerard gulped down the coffee. It was scalding, but Gerard didn't care. He needed his caffeine and he needed it now.

When Gerard had finished draining the coffee mug and set it down, he looked back up to see his brother's pitying expression. Irritation panged through Gerard as he snatched up a notebook and a pen. He quickly changed his mind, tossed them aside, and sent his brother a text. Mikey looked down at his phone.

Gee-Gee: I don't need your pity.

Mikey looked up at his older brother and spoke, trying to annunciate clearly so Gerard could read his lips.

"You gotta keep using your voice or you'll lose the ability to talk."

Mikey saw another tear fall from Gerard's eye as he looked back down to his phone.

Gee-Gee: I can't fucking understand you, Mikes.

Mikey quickly typed his reply. Gerard stared intently down at his phone, reading the tiny text with difficulty.

Baby Bro: I said that if you don't keep using your voice, you're gonna lost the ability to talk altogether. I don't know about you, but I'd want to be able to explain to Bandit one day – tell her stories about tours and such.

Gee-Gee: What's the point of even trying to talk? Sure, you can understand me, but I can't understand you. I'll ever be able to have more than a one-sided conversation, Mikey. So why bother?

Mikey was struck dumb by his brother's complete lack of hope. Gerard had always been the one telling Mikey to never give up. "We'll Carry On" wasn't just song lyrics, it was Gerard's motto for life. How could he just dimiss all that?

Baby Bro: It won't always be like this. You'll learn quickly. Besides, you can't just give up. Think of all your fans, your family. Think of the people who love you. Think of your wife and daughter, Gee. Do you want to set that kind of example for her?

Mikey heard soft snuffling noises and his head shot up. Gerard was bent over his cell phone, shaking visibly as he cried. It broke Mikey to see his brother, his hero, hurting like this. He wrapped his arms around Gerard, who melted into his brother's embrace, sobbing loudly.

"Y-you're right as a-always, Mikes," Gerard whispered as he cried into his brother's chest. "I d-don't deserve a ch-child. You'd be a m-much better dad than m-me. I can't even stick to my own a-advice."

Mikey grabbed Gerard's shoulders and pulled him back so he could stare him in the eye.

"Don't you ever let me hear you tale like that again. He mentally slapped himself when Gerard threw him a confused look, and quickly tapped out a text.

Baby Bro: Don't EVER let me hear you say that again, Gee. You will be a great dad, and you damn well deserve it. You've saved the lives of so many people who've been lost and alone. It you don't deserve it, who does?

Gee-Gee: I didn't save them, the music did.

Mikey sighed.

Baby Bro: Yes, Gerard, music that was started by a band that YOU founded, that YOU helped create. YOUR voice saved them, brought them words of comfort. I want you to use that life-saving voice when you talk to me.

Gerard threw his arms around Mikey's neck.

"Okay, Mikes," he whispered. "I'll try."

"Gerard, hon, I'm home!" Lynsey called out. She received no answer, and shut the door behind her. She walked into the kitchen, stepping over about six assorted pairs of converse in the hallway. Men, she thought, pouring herself a glass of milk. How can they stand to live like such pigs?

Lynsey stuck the milk carton on the top shelf of the fridge, placing a hand on her swollen stomach, and pulled out none other than an ebony pencil, rolling around next to the eggs. Lynsey couldn't help but laugh. Just a few months ago, I would have thought this unusual, she thought with a grin, placing the cold pencil on the counter.

Just as Lynsey was about to wonder about Gerard's whereabouts, she heard music coming from the basement. A beautiful guitar riff, ending with a crashed chord that jarred her ears sounded, followed by the unmistakable laugh of Frank Iero.

Well, that explains the shoes…

"Fail much?" Frank laughed, shoving Ray. Ray grinned madly, shoving Frank back hard enough to send the tiny guitarist sprawling across the guest bed that Gerard had put in the basement. Gerard watched their playful exchange from his desk chair with fascination and confusion. He hadn't heard Ray's mistake or seen what Frank had said. It was just a jumble of movement and unintelligible unheard words. It was starting to give Gee a headache trying to make sense of it all.

Gerard turned back to his drawing – a picture of him, on stage, singing his heart out. Drawing was as close as he was going to get to the real thing, so he was determined to get it perfect. The shading was proving difficult, and the real test was about to begin. Time to see who was more stubborn – Gerard Way, or his art.

The boys continued to laugh behind him. Gerard could feel Bob's deep chuckle reverberating through the floor. Gerard gripped his pencil tighter, angry. How could they laugh and joke, oblivious to the fact that he could not join in? How could they-

His train of thought was broken by the buzz of a text. Gerard sighed. He wasn't mad at them. He was mad at himself for not trying harder.

Baby Bro: Hey, Gee, why so distant? The guys were hoping you could show them some of that new material you'd been working on, for the new album.

Gee-Gee: I can't, Mikes. I can't sing it.

Baby Bro: Why not write in the notes, and Ray can play it?

Gee-Gee: I wouldn't know if it was right, dude. Temp, pitch, notes, nothing. I can't hear it, Mikey. And you can't listen to music if you can't hear.

Baby Bro: Gee, don't be like this.

Gee-Gee: I'm not in a mood, Mikes. Just being realistic.

Gerard turned around in his seat and flashed an apologetic smile at his brother. Mikey sighed and put his phone away.

"Hey, guys, let's take a break and go out for a bit. Comics, coffee, and Paranormal Activity 3, what do you say?"

"Sounds great!" Ray agreed, nodding at Mikey's suggestion. Frank grinned and hoped up, setting Pansy in her case and snatching a pair of aviators from his pocket.

"Let's go!' Frank exclaimed, bolting up the stairs.

"Go ahead up, Ray," Mikey said. "I have to explain to Gee. We'll be right behind you." Ray nodded and headed up, pulling the near-silent Bob up the stairs.

"Gee," Mikey whispered, glancing at his brother and fighting back tears. He cleared his throat, wiped his eyes, and tapped his brother's shoulder. Gerard, who had gone back to his drawing, turned around, sad but not surprised to see the guys gone. Of course they are. Probably gone to have some fun. Having a cripple along is just boring.

"What's up, Mikes?" Gee asked, his pencil dangling from his hand and phone at the ready.

"We're going for coffee, comics, and a movie," Mikey said slowly, being careful to annunciate each word. Gerard shook his head.

"I don't know what you're saying, Mikey. Why don't you send me a text?"

Mikey shook his head. "No, Gerard. You need to learn to read lips sooner rather than later."

Gerard grinned apologetically. "I still don't understand you, bro."

Mikey patiently whipped out his phone.

Baby Bro: I said no, Gee. You have to learn to read lips, and you may as well learn it now, at home, rather than in public. Read my lips, Gerard.

Gerard bit his tongue. Mikey's right. He looked up and tried to focus on Mikey's mouth.

"We… are gone… no, going. We are going our… out? Out. For… comment… comics… yeah, comics. And… comfy? That doesn't make… Oh! Coffee! Sure, I'm in! Wait, what else? Moving? Monkey? Must be?" By now, Gerard's head was hurting, and he was consciously aware of how much time this was taking. His frustration peaked, and he dropped his head to his hands, sobbing.

"I don't know, Mikey! The guys are waiting. You may as well g-go."

"Gerard," Mikey said quietly, forcing his brother to look at him. He mouthed the word 'movie' one more time, and then pulled out his phone.

Baby Bro: Movie, Gee. The word was movie. Thank you for trying. Do you want to head out?

Gerard snapped. Mikey made his struggle this long to understand, without having the foresight to realize that they were going to a movie. When he, Gerard, could not hear said movie.

"A movie, Michael? A movie? Did you not even think that I may actually want to be able to go with you without looking like a freak or having a constant headache? Or that, due to my little problem, a movie is kind of impossible!"

Mikey's mouth fell open. How could he have been so insensitive? He hadn't even thought…

Mikey snatched his phone from his pocket. He tapped a message to Gerard, who pointedly ignored his buzzing pocket.

"No, Mikey," Gerard stated, looking up. "I'm not coming. You should go. The boys are waiting for you." His voice cool and collected, Gerard pointed to the door, staring his brother down. Mikey could feel his eyes misting.

"Gerard, I-"

"NO, MIKEY!" Gerard yelled, standing up and pointing at the door. "Just get the fuck OUT of here! I KNOW you didn't think! That doesn't change anything, Michael! I'm disabled. It doesn't fucking change a THING! Having me along will only slow you down. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Mikey fought back tears as he headed to the door. "Gee-Gee-"

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" Gerard then slammed the door in Mikey's face.

Mikey was shocked. He turned to walk up the stairs, but stopped when he heard a sniggling noise. Sitting on the ground was Lynsey, crying quietly. Mikey sunk to his knees next to her, and held her as she cried.

Gerard felt drained as soon as Mikey was gone. Pulling out his phone, he checked the text that Mikey had sent.

Baby Bro: I'm sorry, Gee. I wasn't thinking. This is as new to me as it is to you. I love you, Gee, and I want you to be able to have fun with us. How about we skip the movie, head to the comic store, and then go for a ride around Belleville.

Gerard threw his phone, collapsed on his bed, and cried.

"Dude, I'm worried about Gee," Frank said, slouching in a booth at Panera Bread. "He hardly ever leaves the house, and he almost never smiles. Lynz is already stressed enough as it is, with Bandit on the way, and this is going to make her snap. She's patient, but no one can wait forever with this much pressure."

Bob nodded grimly, and opened his mouth in a moment of rare insight. "He's not trying to hurt Lynsey. He's scared and lost. He's just had everything he's ever known ripped away from him. Look at it this way – what if you lost a hand, Frank, and you couldn't play guitar anymore? What would you do? At least you have SkeletonCrew and Leathermouth to fall back on. This is Gerard's equivalent to losing a hand, and he doesn't have that financial stability. He's scared shitless because he doesn't think he can support his family. He doesn't believe that he can bounce back from this. And, to be blatantly honest, I don't know if he can." The boys stared at Bob. He hardly ever talked that much, let alone made such a lengthy, moving speech.

"He's right," Ray nodded, getting over the shock relatively quickly. "Unless we can teach Gerard to hear without hearing, he's only going to get into a worse state. I'm going to try to talk some sense into him. I'll be at Frank's in a few hours, okay? And I'm bringing Gee with me." He stood to leave, but stopped when Mikey grabbed his arm.

"It isn't going to work, Toro. He's so stubborn; he'll fight you for days without budging."

"Trust me Mikes. I've got an idea." And I hope to God it works.

Ray stepped into the Way household, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the basement stairs, from which loud, pounding music sounded. He could feel the ground vibrating beneath his feet as he neared the door. He didn't bother to knock, and pulled open the door.

The noise was deafening. Ray fought the urge to turn and leave, and instead plugged his ears and kicked a wall. Gerard turned around and frowned, turning the music off. Ray smiled and nodded, picking up his guitar and playing a few riffs from Skylines and Turnstiles. He ignored Gerard until, finally-

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you with the guys?"

Ray shrugged, not looking up from his guitar. He answered at a normal speed and tone, not slowing down his speech for Gerard. "I needed more practice. They went without me."

Gerard huffed. "I don't know what you said, Ray."

"Try."

Gee rolled his eyes and looked back to his paper, where a new song was forming.

Poetry, not song. There's no music, Gerard. Get used to it.

Gerard could feel Ray's music vibrating throughout the room. He paused in his writing and felt. He tried to tell, but the vibrations, what song it could be. It ws hard without the drums, but after running through his mental list, he asked, "Is that Our Lady of Sorrows?"

Ray smiled. "Yup." He kept playing, bobbing his head to the music. He saw Gerard struggling to remain indifferent. Finally, he sighed and put down his pencil, 'listening' to the music as it pounded through the bottoms of his feet. Ray looked up from his guitar as Gerard's eyes slipped shut and he tapped his fingers. Ray finished the song and slid into another familiar tune. Gerard smiled and began to sing. Ray was amazed. Even though he could not hear himself, Gerard's pitch was almost perfect. Ray scribbled a note on his hand and tapped Gerard on the shoulder.

He stopped singing and read it, smiling slightly.

You're a little flat. Think tall. Try again.

Ray began the song again and listened in awe as Gerard sang, hitting almost every note spot on.

"I am not afraid to keep on living. I am not afraid to walk this world alone. Honey, if you stay, I'll be forgiving. Nothing you can stay can stop me going home. "

Ray stopped playing and looked at Gee. They stared at each other for a short while. Then Ray spoke.

"Come on. We're going to Frank's."

And Gerard understood.

The night was cold, chilling Gerard's bare feet as he stepped onto the brightly lit stage. He smiled at each of the guys in turn before strutting across the stage to the microphone. Gerard smiled at the crowd. He could feel their cheers, reverberating through the earth, and those cheers gave him. Hope. It was his first time on stage since the accident, and he could only hope that it went as planned. He raised a hand high, shielding his eyes from the glare of the spotlights, and called out to crowd.

"Good evening, New York! We're back!" More cheers. "Despite my accident, the guys have helped me fight my way out of the deep dark hole I hidden myself into. They're all getting pretty tired of my complaining, I'm sure, so I thought I'd try to make it up to them tonight, with this performance. I did this for you guys, all of you. I love you all so much!"

Gee cued the rest of the band, and began the carefully practiced routine, counting every beat of the drum as it struck. As the music started up, he couldn't help but think about how hard it had been to ready himself for that night. He hadn't lied when he said the guys were frustrated. They were all at the end of their ropes. But he was going to prove that it wasn't in vain. He opened his mouth and began to sing.

"Sing it for the boys! Sing it for the girls! Every time that you lose it, sing it for the world! Sing it from the heart! Sing it till you're nuts! Sing it out for the ones that'll hate your guts! Sing it for the deaf! Sing it for the blind! Sing about everyone that you left behind! Sing it for the world! Sing it for the world!"

And the crowd went wild.

EPILOGUE

Gerard smiled at his baby girl as he fed her. She was jumping excitedly in her high chair, and her father couldn't help but laugh. His laughter was cut short, however, out of shock. Bandit opened her mouth, and said, "Daddy!"

And Gerard heard it.

I heard her. I heard Bandit's first word.

When the baby girl laughed again, the little bit of hearing disappeared again. But it had been enough. Holding his daughter close and crying into her hair, Gerard whispered simply-

"Thank you, God. Thank you."

FIN