Think of the Angels
We All Stand Alone
“Gee?” I called, my voice barely a croak.
“Mikey?” my brother raised his head from his arms, casting a mildly surprised glance in my direction.
I whimpered at the sound of my name, slinking further into the bed sheets. “I’m scared.”
My brother had switched his casual glance into a dead-locked stare, normally lively hazel eyes now dull with fear, desperation and sorrow.
“It’s weird, Mikey.”
“What is?” I asked, softly, not daring to speak out loud.
“The simple fact that I’ve been holding on just to watch you go.”
He smiled, lopsided, bitter, a mask made of the thousand facades he hid up his sleeve.
Don’t pretend anymore, I can see how you really feel. Have we really been brothers for over twenty five years for nothing?
“I don’t have much time left.”
“I know.” He looked away, eyes brimming with the unshed tears he must have so desperately wanted to pour out, wanted to let go.
He just wanted to scream and let all the pent up pain, anger and frustration out.
Gerard had never cried in front of me before, you know? He always did it when he thought I was sleeping.
He’d confess his fears then.
He was afraid for me.
He didn’t want me to die.
I, as his brother, meant more than words could ever say to him.
He wished he knew what Frank had died of.
He had wanted Frank to at least say a goodbye. Yet, the man had just left without one.
He wished Frank could show him, through his eyes, that very moment he was dying, what exactly his deranged mind saw.
Would grandma be up there? He’d ask, one occasion too many. Grandma Elena. Helena.
I didn’t cry throughout the whole song, the whole making of the video. I had saved my own tears for later.
I missed her, would she be up there, waiting for me when I left?
I wish I knew.
(Narrator’s P.O.V)
Gerard looked back, glancing for the briefest of moments at his little brother. Dead and dying.
We’re damned after all
Through fortune and flame we fall
And if you can stay then I’ll show you the way
To return from the ashes you call
We all carry on
When our brothers in arms are gone
So raise your glass high
For tomorrow we die
And return from the ashes you call
Mikey chuckled from the hospital bed. “You know, you’re saying that I’ll go to hell.”
Gerard started. Damn, I said what I was thinking out loud…again.
“But it was fitting, okay?” he argued.
Mikey nodded, understanding what his brother meant.
(Mikey’s P.O.V)
Through fortune and flame we fall. MCR was gone. Fallen from grace.
We’ll all carry on, when our brothers in arms are gone. Gerard was still living and holding on even after Ray, Bob and Frank had left. His brothers in arms, the people he loved. The people who were there for the most of his thirty years on this earth.
I’ll be gone soon, hopefully to join Frank.
The little dude was probably rocking Heaven and gallivanting around the place like the fun-sized, hyper little fire starter he was.
Gerard would be the only one left.
Ray and Bob had moved away. They weren’t dead, but we couldn’t even get in touch with each other.
As good as dead, my brother had said, a long time ago.
So raise your glass high for tomorrow we die. Okay, I was dying. But not tomorrow. Today. I had never celebrated a death before, not even for Grandma.
Yeah – I was dying and all my head was filled with were these odd mood swings and stupid thoughts.
I drew the blankets over my head, smiling.
“This feels like something directly out of ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’,” I smirked. “Corny…I wish every word wasn’t such a reality though.”
Oh, I realized. I’m smiling.
Smiling at death. Just like Frank. Did this happen often?
It was like a soppy soap opera, smiling.
Was I scared? Yes.
But I’m still smiling, aren’t I?
Like the clarity of something’s beauty and the pain felt at that very thing happening. They were a clashing contrast, yet came together like destined halves sometimes, blended together to form the hardest part of memory to forget.
Humans are so complex.
(Narrator’s P.O.V)
Mikey gave a sudden cough that got more and more violent as Gerard grabbed his brother’s hand in horror.
“Mikey! Are you okay?”
“Something’s…wrong,” his brother gasped between breaths, eyes bulging in their sockets as he fought for air.
“MIKEY!”
Mikey twisted his neck sideways, gazing with saddened eyes at Gerard.
“I have to go. Soon, I have to.” He sobbed suddenly, tears rolling down his pale cheeks, staining them, coating them.
“Mikey…no, no…NO!” Gerard sobbed, gripping his brother’s hand, more tightly than he had ever done so before. Mikey, don’t leave me here, all by myself…
“I don’t want to leave, Gee.”
“Well, I don’t want you to either!” Gerard raised his voice, spitting out the words in a temper. Anger fueled by desperation.
Mikey coughed again, causing his brother to look at him in renewed worry.
At the end of the world, or the last thing I see
“Mikey! Are you okay? Mikey? Mikey!”
You are
Never coming Home –
The younger male sighed, closing his tired eyes, letting the heavy lids slide shut, letting all hope drain away.
Never coming Home.
“I love you, Gerard.”
I love you.
“Mikey?” my brother raised his head from his arms, casting a mildly surprised glance in my direction.
I whimpered at the sound of my name, slinking further into the bed sheets. “I’m scared.”
My brother had switched his casual glance into a dead-locked stare, normally lively hazel eyes now dull with fear, desperation and sorrow.
“It’s weird, Mikey.”
“What is?” I asked, softly, not daring to speak out loud.
“The simple fact that I’ve been holding on just to watch you go.”
He smiled, lopsided, bitter, a mask made of the thousand facades he hid up his sleeve.
Don’t pretend anymore, I can see how you really feel. Have we really been brothers for over twenty five years for nothing?
“I don’t have much time left.”
“I know.” He looked away, eyes brimming with the unshed tears he must have so desperately wanted to pour out, wanted to let go.
He just wanted to scream and let all the pent up pain, anger and frustration out.
Gerard had never cried in front of me before, you know? He always did it when he thought I was sleeping.
He’d confess his fears then.
He was afraid for me.
He didn’t want me to die.
I, as his brother, meant more than words could ever say to him.
He wished he knew what Frank had died of.
He had wanted Frank to at least say a goodbye. Yet, the man had just left without one.
He wished Frank could show him, through his eyes, that very moment he was dying, what exactly his deranged mind saw.
Would grandma be up there? He’d ask, one occasion too many. Grandma Elena. Helena.
I didn’t cry throughout the whole song, the whole making of the video. I had saved my own tears for later.
I missed her, would she be up there, waiting for me when I left?
I wish I knew.
(Narrator’s P.O.V)
Gerard looked back, glancing for the briefest of moments at his little brother. Dead and dying.
We’re damned after all
Through fortune and flame we fall
And if you can stay then I’ll show you the way
To return from the ashes you call
We all carry on
When our brothers in arms are gone
So raise your glass high
For tomorrow we die
And return from the ashes you call
Mikey chuckled from the hospital bed. “You know, you’re saying that I’ll go to hell.”
Gerard started. Damn, I said what I was thinking out loud…again.
“But it was fitting, okay?” he argued.
Mikey nodded, understanding what his brother meant.
(Mikey’s P.O.V)
Through fortune and flame we fall. MCR was gone. Fallen from grace.
We’ll all carry on, when our brothers in arms are gone. Gerard was still living and holding on even after Ray, Bob and Frank had left. His brothers in arms, the people he loved. The people who were there for the most of his thirty years on this earth.
I’ll be gone soon, hopefully to join Frank.
The little dude was probably rocking Heaven and gallivanting around the place like the fun-sized, hyper little fire starter he was.
Gerard would be the only one left.
Ray and Bob had moved away. They weren’t dead, but we couldn’t even get in touch with each other.
As good as dead, my brother had said, a long time ago.
So raise your glass high for tomorrow we die. Okay, I was dying. But not tomorrow. Today. I had never celebrated a death before, not even for Grandma.
Yeah – I was dying and all my head was filled with were these odd mood swings and stupid thoughts.
I drew the blankets over my head, smiling.
“This feels like something directly out of ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’,” I smirked. “Corny…I wish every word wasn’t such a reality though.”
Oh, I realized. I’m smiling.
Smiling at death. Just like Frank. Did this happen often?
It was like a soppy soap opera, smiling.
Was I scared? Yes.
But I’m still smiling, aren’t I?
Like the clarity of something’s beauty and the pain felt at that very thing happening. They were a clashing contrast, yet came together like destined halves sometimes, blended together to form the hardest part of memory to forget.
Humans are so complex.
(Narrator’s P.O.V)
Mikey gave a sudden cough that got more and more violent as Gerard grabbed his brother’s hand in horror.
“Mikey! Are you okay?”
“Something’s…wrong,” his brother gasped between breaths, eyes bulging in their sockets as he fought for air.
“MIKEY!”
Mikey twisted his neck sideways, gazing with saddened eyes at Gerard.
“I have to go. Soon, I have to.” He sobbed suddenly, tears rolling down his pale cheeks, staining them, coating them.
“Mikey…no, no…NO!” Gerard sobbed, gripping his brother’s hand, more tightly than he had ever done so before. Mikey, don’t leave me here, all by myself…
“I don’t want to leave, Gee.”
“Well, I don’t want you to either!” Gerard raised his voice, spitting out the words in a temper. Anger fueled by desperation.
Mikey coughed again, causing his brother to look at him in renewed worry.
At the end of the world, or the last thing I see
“Mikey! Are you okay? Mikey? Mikey!”
You are
Never coming Home –
The younger male sighed, closing his tired eyes, letting the heavy lids slide shut, letting all hope drain away.
Never coming Home.
“I love you, Gerard.”
I love you.