When you go, Just know that I will remember you. If living was the hardest part, We'll then one day, be together. And in the end we'll fall apart, Just like the leaves change in colors. And then I will be with you. - (It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Fucking Deathwish - My Chemical Romance)
Gerard's POV:
"Come on, give it back!" Gerard yelled at his little brother. Mikey had snatched the sketchpad off the table right out from under Gee's nose, just like the annoying child he was. Gerard rarely shared his drawings with anyone. Mikey waved it above his head, grinning like an idiot. 'I will not do it. I will not do it. I will not do it,' Gerard repeated to himself silently. Mikey continued to flip through the many color-filled pages with his mouth hung open, 'like a cow,' Gerard thought to himself. 'I will not do it. I will not do it. I will not do it.' "Please, Mikey. Just- please give it back, okay? This isn't funny." Mikey continued to leaf through his artwork, but paused at one in particular. "What the-?" Mikey's smile faded as he stared at the sketch in front of him. "What?" Mikey didn't answer, he just continued running his eyes across the many lines that formed the picture that his older brother had drawn. "Mikey, what?" The younger Way slowly looked over at Gerard; his own hazel-green eyes that matched the color of his brother's were wide and confused. "Did you- why- What the fuck?" Gerard stood up and made his way to his brother, tripping slightly over his untied shoe laces. He glanced at Mikey's face before turning his gaze on the drawing that had made his baby brother react in such a way. Gerard sucked in a sharp breath and froze. He snatched his sketchpad back from his brother's grasp and Mikey didn't try to stop him... He thought he had gotten rid of this. "S'none of your business," he snapped, ripping out said drawing and shoving the sketch in his back pocket; the sketch he had drawn of his little brother... "Gerard-." 'I will not do it.' I will not do it. I will not do it,' he repeated to himself yet again. He shook his head and said, "Leave it,' Mikey." "But, Gee-." "God, just leave me the fuck alone!" he shouted, his brother's hurt and extremely confused expression not really affecting him the way it normally should have at this particular moment in time. He turned and headed towards the door to his room, which was the basement. He opened the door roughly and slammed it shut, locking it behind him. He sat down heavily at the top of the stairway that led down into his dark, dungeon of a bedroom, and placed his head in his hands. It's not that he didn't want to tell his brother about everything, it's just that- well, he didn't want his brother to reject him... Or hate him. He knew that Mikey wouldn't tell their parents; no, Mikey wasn't like that. He might, however, possibly never speak to Gerard again; it would be too weird and awkward. Gerard knew that his feelings were wrong... He just couldn't help it. He sighed, and groaned as he picked himself up from his seated position and stomped his way down the remainder of the steps. The older Way brother lay back on his single bed, struggling to get comfortable. He gave up after a few, moments and sprawled out on the floor on his stomach, his face lying against the coolness of the exposed cement floor making him shiver slightly. He thought about school; he thought about Mikey; he thought about all the things he did not want to think about. He wanted to forget all of these things. Every hateful word thrown his way by jocks, preps, cheerleaders... Even the nerdiest kids at school ,ade fun of him. Why? Because he let them. He made no real effort to defend himself against their harshness. The worst part wasn't even the physical abuse - all the shoving and kicking and tripping he endured on a daily basis. No. It was indeed the words that cut through him. Not that everything they said was true - he was not slow, and he wasn't weird in his opinion - but still the things they said hurt. They made him feel ashamed, and... not human. He did not want to go to school the next day. He wanted to lie here on the cold floor forever; the floor would never hurt him, anyway; would never reject him. The floor would always welcome him and be there to catch him every time he would fall; the floor would never push him away or ignore him. It was in this state of mind he eventually fell asleep.
To be continued shortly