And I'm Paralyzed

Gerard:

Groggily, I opened my eyes to the darkness I had fallen asleep too. But, then, in my room, measuring time by light is never a good idea. I look at my clock. Harsh neon digital numbers tell me it is half past three in the afternoon. I decide it is time for me to do something with my life.

I get up and head to the bathroom across the hall from my room, quickly showering and dressing. I shake out my hair in a rather dog-like fashion before throwing my towel back on the hanger and proceeding upstairs.

Surprise is etched into my mother's face as I emerge from the basement. She is used to me staying down there all weekend, apart from dinners. I've hardly been out of my room over the past year, of course she's shocked.

“Hello, sweetheart. Feeling alright?” she asks, putting her hand on my forehead.

I roll my eyes and remove her hand from my face, “Honestly, Mom, I'm fine.”

I walk out into our living room, where Michael is reading something on his laptop. I lean over him, reading a bit of the article:

“In some cases, the couples have been separated. Incestuous activities are prohibited by law, and often result in family feuds and splits in families. This type of behavior, though often dismissed as simple affection, ends worse than if the siblings involved hated each other. Often, the incestuous feelings are only felt by one member of the family towards another. If you think you may be dealing with an incestuous family member, please call...”

My insides froze. How could he possibly know? I felt my heart rate increase. He was reading this so he could tell someone. So he could have me taken away. Trying my best to regain composure, I took a couple of steps back and made my footfalls loud as I approached the couch again. This time, he snapped the laptop shut and looked up at me.

I rubbed my eyes and st down next to him, “Hey, what's up?”

“N-not much... uh, Gerard, do you remember anything funny about today?” he asked quietly, not meeting my eyes.

I stared at him for a moment, not recalling what he was talking about, “Not really. I just woke up, Michael, not much to remember, unless you're asking if I dreamed.”

Mikey met my eyes at last, “I...Don't hate me, Gee, but I kind of snuck into your room, and you woke up... and... you.... kissed me.”

I just stared at him, my mouth and eyes wide. There was a long, long silence, before, “W-what? I... how could I have kissed you, I was asleep!”

“You were asleep, and you were doped up an sleeping medication when I came in, and... I don't know if you did it on purpose, b-but you did kiss me. Then you told me to get out of your room, and I'm guessing you fell back asleep...”

My composure slipped once more. I'd kissed him? An actual kiss? Obviously, He'd been scared shitless by it, but I wondered if I could still taste him. Trying to be discreet about it, I passed my tongue over my lips. Sure enough, there was a faint taste of sweetness, the essence of Mikey Way. I shuddered, and looked back at him, “Mikes, I'm sorry. I wasn't in my right mind, like you said, I was doped up. I didn't mean it!”

My voice had sounded desperate. I didn't want him to hate me for a kiss I don't even remember giving him. Yet Mikey stared at me with some unknown emotion in his eyes.

“Didn't you mean it, though, Gerard? I don't need your shit, okay? Tell me the fucking truth, for once. If you ever decide to tell me what I already know, you know where I am.” He stood, his laptop in hand, and stormed up the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, I broke down, sobbing hard. As soon as I'd gathered myself, I stumbled past my mom and half fell down the stairs, my eyes blurred by tears. I got to my room, sobbing frantically and collapsing onto my bed.

I hated myself. I hated my life. I hated everything at this moment. Most of all, I hated that he was my brother, and that he hated me.

~

Mikey:

As soon as I got to my room, I realized what a mistake I had made. I could hear him sobbing downstairs, and then him getting up, almost falling down the basement stairs before reaching his room, slamming the door and sobbing more. I realized I may have ruined his whole life. I had been angry because of a suspicion I hadn't confirmed, and I'd upset him.

I decided to sneak downstairs and try to talk to him. I made my way out of my room and down the stairs until I was in front of his doorway. I knelt, my ear pressed against the door. I heard absolute silence, then his voice.

“This is all my fault. I deserve to die. No, he's right, I'm a stupid-” his voice was cut of by a yelp of pain “fucked up” another yelp “bastard.”

He was panting, “My blood....isn't worthy.”

What was he doing? Cutting himself, that's what Gerard did when life got to be too much.

He whispered my name. And then a stream of obscenities. I wondered exactly why he did this. If he was innocent, maybe he was upset because I had accused him like I did.

His room was dead silent. I pressed my ear more firmly against the door, listening. I could hear the faint patting of a towel on skin. He must be soaking up the blood.

Gerard said my name again, only this time there was something else entirely in his tone. Rather than self-loathing and sorrow, there was desire when he said my name.

“Ohh, Mikey. Baby, why do you have to be so right...?”