Gerard Way had always grown up believing a few things: A) that Hans Solo shot first and B) your life could change at any moment. He raised his baby brother, Mikey, on the same beliefs and Gerard was delighted when Mikey ran with the theories.

Except Hans did shoot first. That wasn't a theory. That was fact.

But, if one logically thought about it, their life could change in the blink of an eye. Someone isn't paying attention to the road, and it's the last thing they ever do; or they can affect someone else's life with a t-bone into the middle of the car.

That was what was on Gerard's mind that morning when his brother woke him up by rapping his knuckles on Gerard's locked bedroom door. "Hey, Vampire Boy!" Mikey called, a smirk on his face at the nickname he had given his brother in account of him living in the basement and his wish of becoming a vampire. Gerard would argue that, when he said that, he was A) 15 years old, B) high off his ass and C) watching a movie about vampires, but the nickname stuck. "Gotta get up!"

Gerard sat up and rubbed his face, smacking his lips with sleep. The single ray of light that came into his bedroom perfectly illuminated his calendar on the wall, almost as if angels were sending a beam of holy light down onto the glossy pages. Gerard saw the circled date and cussed loudly, rolling out of bed.

He unlocked his bedroom door and frantically started rushing around the room, exchanging his black shirt and dark plaid pajama pants for a cleaner black shirt and black jeans, hopping around on one foot as he attempted to shove his dirty gray Converse onto his feet. "Ready for today?" Mikey asked, leaning against the doorway to his brother's room.

"I'm freaking out," Gerard admitted and pulled a dark blue sweater over his head, tussling his dark brown hair. He shoved his drawings and storyboards into his navy backpack as Mikey talked.

"You'll be fine," the bespectacled younger man said. "Breakfast Monkey rocks. The pitch'll be a piece of cake."

"I hope you're right," Gerard said, pulling his back onto his shoulders. "I need to get going."

"Alright," Mikey said, letting his brother pass through the door. "Good luck... Or whatever artists say to each other."

"Break a paint brush?" Gerard thought out-loud, racing up the stairs. "Eh, I dunno."

Gerard barely made the ferry in time. He leaned against the railing, catching his breath from the rush onto the deck, and he made a mental note to take up some form of exercise soon. The white-painted railing was slick with salty sea water that had splashed up, and Gerard wiped his wet palms on the thighs of his jeans, wincing at the clammy feeling.

He seriously regretted not setting an alarm or anything of the sort. He hadn't had time to make a cup of coffee that morning and he was already feeling it— he could barely form a coherent thought without it.

He absently watched the clear blue morning sky, longing for a cup of coffee. Or a cigarette. Oh, a smoke would be nice; but he had recently quit, and he wasn't giving in or up that easy.
His hazel eyes trained on a plane going through the sky, leaving most likely from LaGuardia. It was at this moment that Gerard started to think about his secondmost belief— that your life could change at any moment. The thought process he had was What if that plane had been delayed or canceled? Who knows what would've happened?

Who knows indeed. As he was watching the hulking silver airplane, it collided right into the first World Trade Center. It was so elegantly done, it seemed almost choreographed— but Gerard wasn't aware that it was. No-one was. All they knew was that someone had freaking hit one of the Twin Towers.

The next hour or so was a blur for Gerard. He barely recalled sitting down on a Metro train, but what happened next would stick with him for the rest of his life.

"I'm never having a kid," the man seated next to him said suddenly, staring straight ahead. Gerard gave him a sideways glance, horrified by the man's morbid words, and thought This world is dark. He quickly dug his MP3 player and earbuds out of the depths of his bag and drowned out the world with Mindless Self Indulgence and the Smashing Pumpkins, two bands that his art school friends had gotten him into.

"Gee!" His brother yelled when Gerard got into the house. Of course he had only been gone maybe an hour at the most but, after everything that had happened, Mikey wasn't sure if he would ever see his big brother again. The lanky brother wrapped himself around Gerard, sending dry sobs into his shoulder. "I never thought that I would see you again!"

"Settle down, Mikes," Gerard said quietly, running his hand down his brother's back. "It's okay. I'm okay."

---

---

"Hey, Gee?" Mikey whispered, poking his head into the darkened bedroom. The clock read 2:03 A.M and Mikey had debated going to his brother's room for comfort. In the end, he decided to do it.

Gerard rolled in his bed to face the door and saw his little brother standing there, looking more terrified than the time he had seen Jaws when he was 3. "Can I sleep in here with you tonight?"

"Sure," Gerard said quietly and moved in his bed to make room for Mikey. Mikey laid down next to Gerard, pushing his glasses up his thin nose despite their askew angle.

"Are you awake?" Mikey whispered after a few silent minutes and Gerard nodded. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to fall asleep again. Not with what I saw today."

"Me too," Gerard agreed, turning to see his brother.
"I'm so scared," Mikey said, sliding closer to Gerard. "We don't know if these people'll do it again. And what if they target Jersey this time?"

"Mikes, it's okay," Gerard said for the hundredth time that day. "Even if they do, I'll be right here with you. I'm terrified too, if that helps."

"You are?" Mikey asked. He knew that his brother wasn't fearless, but it was a shock to him nonetheless.

"Are you kidding?" Gerard asked. "Of course I am! I'm scared out of my mind! Look, we'll get through this together. We're Gerard and Mikey— we can do this shit."

Gerard pushed himself up onto his elbows and offered one of his hands to Mikey, who sat up and took Gerard's hand. The younger white-knuckled the elder's hand and repeated him. "We can do this shit."

"So," Mikey started, sitting up all the way and leaning against the wall. "I saw this guy at work yesterday—"

"You're insane," Gerard scoffed, interrupting Mikey's sentence. Only Mikey and the brothers' friend, Ray Toro, knew Gerard's secret, despite the not-so-subtle hints Gerard had been tossing around ever since he was 15. For Pete's sake, he had taken the accordion doors off of his closet and moved his bed in there for a reason, and that reason wasn't for space.

"No, no," Mikey persisted. "Hear me out. He's kinda short and he has these hazel-green eyes and he just seemed perfect for you."

"What's his 'but'?" Gerard asked.

"I didn't see it, but I'm sure it was—" Mikey started but Gerard shut him up with a swift hit to the shoulder.

"Not his ass," Gerard said. "Like, 'he seems perfect for me' but...?"

Mikey seemed to instantly deflate and he sighed. "But he used a student ID for a discount and... He's 19."

"Oh, goody, a 5 year age gap," Gerard said, rolling his eyes. "Why'd you tell me about this kid then?"

"Just giving you some potential eye candy," Mikey said. "Is that a crime?"

"Not anymore," Gerard mumbled, referencing the young man's age. "So, you started to say something about his butt?"
"Grow up," Mikey said and smiled. "It wasn't that nice anyway— it was kinda small, actually."

"You said he was a small dude," Gerard countered. "Ergo: small dude, small butt. Anyway, what was Dude's name?"
"Frank or something like that," Mikey said. "And his last name was, like, all vowels. I swear to God!"

"What was he buying?" Gerard asked.

"A textbook, I think," Mikey said, trying to recall the purchase. "I'm not sure."

Silence filled the room before Mikey started humming. It was an unidentifiable tune, and he nodded his head to the beat only he could hear.

"What're you singing?" Gerard asked finally.

"I don't know," Mikey said. "Just some little tune Ray made up." Ray was a friend of the Way brothers, ever since high school. Recently, Ray had been around a lot more, ever since Mikey had picked up a bass guitar and said that he wanted to learn how to play it. Ray had transferred his hard-earned guitar skills into somewhat-decent bass skills and taught Mikey how to play. "He doesn't have any lyrics or anything, though." Mikey lamented.

Gerard thought for a moment, then started singing. "You're not in this alone. Let me break this awkward silence. Let me go," Then, he scrambled out of bed and ran around the room, trying to find paper and a pencil. He turned on his desk lamp, sending the whole room into soft, golden light.

Writing as he sat down, he situated himself on his carpet. "Go on, record. Be the first to say I'm sorry, hear me out," he mumbled as he wrote and Mikey moved to the floor with Gerard. "And if you take me down, or would you lay me out. And if the world needs something better, we'll give them one more reason now, now, now..."

Notes

And this is why I haven't been updating Badlands: I've been writing Frerard. I'm trash.
Anyway, this fic will be updated just whenever I can, so it would be best to subscribe.
Stay lovely, my deers.
xoøli