A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's taken me a few days to get this chapter up, I've been really busy with summer classes/work. But here it is! Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: Don't own MCR or anything pertaining to them.
Gerard nervously knocked on the door of Alicia's duplex. He fervently hoped that Barbara was still here.
After waiting for what seemed like ages in the chilly late winter air, the door finally opened. He could see Steve passed out on the couch inside of the darkened house. Alicia looked up at him, squinting painfully into the sunlight. She wore star wars pajama pants and a faded black t shirt. Her short hair was disheveled and she looked so small and innocent without her usual harsh black eye makeup.
Until she spoke.
"You fucking woke me up, Douche." She hissed, then let out a loud laugh. "Jim did a damn good job on you're nose though! Bet you feel like shit today."
Gerard sighed inwardly, he didn't know why this girl was such a bitch. "Is Barbara here?"
She shook her head, crossing her arms. "No. She dipped out late last night."
Damn. Gerard cursed silently, "Well do you know where she is? I really need to talk to her."
Alicia shrugged, "Mars? Narnia? The northpole?" She suggested sarcastically.
"Can I get a serious answer? Please, Alicia." Gerard nearly begged.
She gave the boy the most annoyed look. As if he were nothing more than a bothersome insect that she couldn't get rid of. "I would assume that she's at home, Dipshit."
"Thanks!" Gerard exclaimed, trying to conceal his agitation. He bounded down the steps, then paused and turned back to Alicia hesitantly, "Could you gie me her address?"
She rolled her eyes and gave an aggravated grunt, "Get your ass inside and I'll write it down for you."
Gerard double checked the numbers on the front of the small house to make sure that they matched the ones written on the paper in his hand. It was a narrow two story house painted a dull grey color. The paint was flaking off of the dark green shutters and wrought iron bars encased the downstairs windows. A pretty typical looking house for their neighborhood.
He stood at the bottom of the steps, staring nervously at the front door and taking deep breaths to steady himself.
What am I going to say? Gerard wondered desperately. "Hey, Barbara. Sorry for being a complete chicken shit last night while you were getting the crap beat out of you by your douchebag boyfriend?" Basically that's about it, just not in those exact words of course. Should I offer to go beat Jim up? I really hope not. Fighting's not my thing. BUT if I knew I would make it out alive, I would totally love to give that motherfucker a piece of my mind. Gerard grinned evilly as he imagined doing torturous things to the jock.
"Would you stop staring at my house like a creep?" Barbara smirked from the top of the steps. Gerard hadn't even noticed that she had opened the front door. She looked awful, the gash on her forehead brightly contrasted with her milky skin. Her face was free from makeup, so that the bruises he had seen yesterday were anything but unnoticeable, and her knees and shins were covered in large band-aids. He wondered what had happened there….
He flushed bright red with embarrassment, "Barbara, I am so sorry about last night." He stared at the ground shoving his hand through his tangled black locks.
Barbara rolled her eyes and motioned for Gerard to enter the house. Slowly he stepped into the dimly lighted kitchen and watched as Barbara turned toward the counter. "Do you want some coffee?" She offered, pouring herself a cup.
"Errr, no thanks." Gerard mumbled silently admiring the very tiny pair of boxer shorts that she was wearing.
A few seconds later Barbara handed him a cup of steaming hot coffee. "I made you some anyway. Sit down and drink it." She demanded, so Gerard eased himself into one of the chairs that surrounded the small, bistro-style table across from Barbara. He watched her warily as she stared back at him then, not all too gently, she reached across the table and caught his chin with her right hand and examined his face.
"You got fucked up, huh, Kid?" She said, turning his head left and right with her hand.
Gerard waved her away gently, "You did too, in case you haven't looked in the mirror. Barbara, that's why I came over here. I am so so sorry that happened to you. I let that happen to you. I should have-"
Barbara burst into laughter, causing Gerard to abruptly clamp his mouth shut.
"You are apologizing to me for what my asshole boyfriend did?" She chuckled.
"Well, yeah, because I could have stopped him. I should have been a man and pummeled his ass into the ground, I-"
"Gerard," Barbara sharply, but still with an air of laughter in her voice, "Shut up! You were hammered drunk, you didn't stand a chance. Plus, he caught you off guard. It isn't your fault that any of that happened, I was coming on to you and Jim happened to walk in at a very bad time. Really, he had every right to be furious with me, but it pissed me the hell of when he came after you. Stop blaming yourself for my idiot mistakes."
"Don't make excuses for him, Barbara." Gerard said, his tone had turned icy. "It doesn't matter how angry he was with you, that will never make what he did okay. I'm still sorry for not beating that bastard within an inch of his life."
They sat in silent for what felt like an eternity, finally, Gerard spoke again. "Those bruises on your face…. They aren't from getting in a fight with another chick, are they? Jim did that to you."
Barbara sat in stony silence, staring out the window. Fuck, Jim. Fuck him for being such a dumbass and letting her secret out. She couldn't even look Gerard in the eyes, all that pity gave her a strong urge to vomit.
"What happened to your legs?" Gerard prodded.
Barbara stiffened, and slowly turned her gaze back to the boy. Her mind was swimming with blurry images from her most recent late night pity party. The half bottle of vodka, the pills, the image of her crimson blood swirling around on the tile floor…. This was one secret she refused to let out. No one else knew about her self-destructive habits, not even Alicia. Barbara would take this secret to the grave.
"I got all scraped up one night when Jim was pushing me around." She fibbed, blaming Jim seemed like the safest, most believable thing to do.
Gerard's eyes were so anguished that she couldn't stand it any longer, "Quit fucking looking at me like that!" She snapped, jumping up from the table. "People get beat up all the time, it's not that big of a deal! Anyone who thinks it's just so horrible and uncommon, is seriously just ignorant."
"Barbara," Gerard said gently, taking a step toward her, "You're in denial. Just because there a plenty of other abusive relationships out there, doesn't mean that you, or anyone else, deserves to be in one."
"So what, you're like a therapist now?" Barbara spit sarcastically, "Please, Gerard, come solve all my life problems by telling me how I feel, as if I don't know what's going on in my own head. You don't know how the fuck I feel!"
She could feel tears stinging the corner of her eyes, but she would not cry. She only cried when she was drunk and alone. Gerard certainly couldn't see her cry, not now. So, she channeled her pain into more sarcasm.
"Well don't piss yourself, Kid. I didn't mean to scare you." She smirked.
The sudden change in mood caught the wide-eyed, shaky Gerard off guard. "You don't scare me." He retorted. Although, he had concluded that, perhaps, Barbara was a bit mentally unstable. But, then again, he was a little bit off-kilter himself.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you." Barbara muttered, dumping her untouched coffee into the sink.
Suddenly, she felt arms wrap around her waist. She shrugged away, "Please don't hug me right now."
Gerard, however, wasn't taking no for an answer. He grasped her shoulder's and whirled her around to face him. She couldn't hide the shocked expression on her face as she stared into his intense hazel eyes. The boy wound his arms tightly around her, pinning her against his body, and after a moment of hesitation, crushed his lips against hers.
Barbara tensed for a few seconds. This was not the timid, insecure Gerard that she had gotten to know; this was a whole other side of him. She let her hands travel up his chest and wound her arms around his neck. She breathed into him as their lips moved as one. Gerard had very nice lips, they were soft and fit perfectly together with hers; they were a bit on the slimy side, but she could deal with that. Suddenly, Gerard's mouth started moving more hungrily. He gripped her hips firmly, plunging his tongue into her mouth and kissing her so furiously that she could feel a tingling sensation of lust coursing through her entire body. She entwined her fingers in his hair, gripping it roughly as he pressed her up against the refrigerator. She could feel the bulk in his pants, grinding into her pelvis. She moaned quietly, removing her lips from his and traveling down his neck. She could feel his pulse pounding as her mouth explored his pale throat. Slowly she worked her way back up his chin and hovered less than an inch from his mouth. She could feel his sweet, ragged breath on her face. She delivered one final, soft kiss and stared into his eyes intently.
He grinned and pulled her into a tight hug. He buried his face into her hair.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that." He murmered.
"I'm glad you did." She whispered.
"And I'm glad that you and that douchebag are finally over for good."
He could feel her stiffen slightly in his arms. He waited a few moments, but silence was her only reply. He pulled back and tipped her chin up to look him in the eyes.
"You did leave him, didn't you?" He asked a little harshly.
Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
She opened her mouth to speak, hesitating to find the right words, "Gerard….. I-I can't."
A/N: WAH WAH WAHHHHH. I know I know, don't shoot me. I'm all about making things more difficult than necessary. But please review, and let me know what you think!
