Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I can’t even remember the day my boyfriend got taken from me. As I’m sitting on the cold earth, shivering, looking at the patch of ground where he now rests, I don’t remember when we met, or the day he got taken away. I know we were in that god-awful place. Why on earth were we there? Why can’t I recall a thing from before I met him? Even the stuff after is slowly getting cloudier.

“Hey, it’s me, Mikey. I don’t even remember what happened before you, before Bluestone. All I know is I miss you. I’m sorry for whatever I did that got you taken away from me. I’d bet you 100 bucks that it was my fault. But we’ll see each other again, I’m sure of it. Even though I don’t believe in heaven and hell, I know that when two people truly love each other, they will be reunited.” My throat burns with the urge to cry, my eyes welling up with tears.

“Oh, get this- I’m broken again. You might’ve fixed me, but now, since you’re gone, I’m broken. Markman will find me and take me back to Bluestone, broken. I never quite understood why you said I had to be put back together. But now I think I do.”

I laugh to myself, and one solitary teardrop falls down my cheek. “I’m forgetting everything. It’s almost as if I went back in time with my memory. I don’t remember my family, I’m starting to forget about Frank, and everything’s a hazy blur. But even once I forget everyone and everything, I promise I will try my hardest to remember you. I think it would be impossible to forget you. No matter what happens to me, I’ll remember you. Because I love you. And I know that there’s no way those feelings can shatter into lost memories. Even if I forget your beautiful face, my love for you will always be here, all of the feelings I have for you that I’ve always had.”

There’s no holding back the tears, but my breath doesn’t catch and no sounds emerge from my throat. My tears are just flowing without me even realising it. Without me being able to process it. Just like he did.

I get up from the grave slowly, still pondering why my boyfriend was taken from me. I yearn for help, I crave my medications, and I need to go and cry and scream. I need to find someone to help me. The only place I know will help me is back there, the only place I truly remember. I say remember, but that's because I was there three hours ago. I remember that it’s not my home, but honestly, I don’t remember what is.

Almost all of my memories had come back since the accident, mainly because of him, but now nothing is there anymore. I can’t recall a thing. The only time I started to get better was when I was with him. But he’s gone now, and it feels as if everything else is leaving me, too. Now, my strengths aren’t gone, it’s not like all of those went away again. It’s just my mind, which to me is more important in life.

I miss him, and that’s all that’s shooting through my empty brain. I miss my boyfriend. My boyfriend, my tether to the real world who managed to bring me back to reality. He did what people thought was impossible- he fixed me. But now that he’s gone, I’m broken. I’m off in the clouds once more.

“Mikey? How on earth did you get out here!”

If my memory proves me correct, which isn't an entirely reliable source, I believe it’s Markman, the main doctor. Truly, how did she find me? I ran so far! Almost ten miles. I hope she drove here. I wonder how long she’s just been standing there.

“Hi, Dr. Markman,” I say, trying to find an escape route while looking everywhere but at her. The only options are either hopping the fence, which would be very painful and annoying because I’m really not the most athletic, or running Markman over and escaping out the gated entryway of the cemetery. Again, I’m not the most athletic and Markman could most likely break me in half. I’m a twig compared to her. I guess she can take me now. I surrender.

“Mikey, it’s time for you to come back. Your parents are worried sick, your friends are scared!”

“Markman, I can’t leave him. You know I can’t. He’s the only one that makes me feel sane, he made me remember, but now he’s gone!” I let out a small, choked sob. I don’t even care if Markman hears me. I need him back, but I don’t know how to do that. I have a feeling that the remainder of my tears will be escaping in the confines of my room.

“Oh, come on, Mikey. He won’t go anywhere, and if you cooperate with me, I can pull a couple of strings and see if you’d be able to come down and visit sometimes. You just have to come back to Bluestone. Please,” begs Markman, extending her hand to me. I reluctantly take her gloved hand, letting her pull me up and away from him. She leads me past the gates of the cemetery, which is odd. I thought she wanted to get me out of here!

“Markman, where are you taking me? Do you realise that the gate is behind us?”

“I have to drop something off, Mikey.”

We walk over to another grave. There are dead flowers littered around. It seems as if no one has visited for months now.

“Whose grave is this?” I ask. She doesn’t tell me right away, which is bothersome. She just kneels in front of the tombstone, pulls a small framed drawing and notebook out of her jacket, and leans both of them up against the stone. A small pencil, which is just a stub, is tucked in the spiral of the notebook. She also places a rose on top of the drawing. I see a small note attached written in the messiest handwriting I have ever seen. The only word I can make out is ‘Gerard’, which makes me guess that this must be Gerard’s grave. I can’t make out the faded letters on the tombstone in the dark. But Gerard is such a rare name, and if Markman knows, he must’ve been a past patient. I’m curious though.

“Markman? Who’s Gerard? Why’d you bring me here and not take me back to Bluestone?”

“Mike, this is Gerard Way’s grave. Your brother’s grave. He caused your accident, remember? He came to see you two months before you first came to Bluestone, and he apologised. He had schizophrenia. He was a good man and very caring about you and his boyfriend. One of my past patients asked me to bring this for him because he couldn’t do it on his own. He comes every single day, but this was just too hard,” she explains.

My brother, the cause of why I am the way I am. If Gerard apologised that must’ve meant that he felt really bad. I feel horrible that Gerard’s dead. If I try to remember hard enough I can vaguely think back to that day. But not really. Gerard might’ve been crazy, but he had to have been nice. I can’t remember at all anymore. Heck, I can’t even think straight! My memory got worse since he was taken away from me. Who are my parents? Who else did I have a life with that I can’t remember?

“Markman, did you take him away from me so I wouldn’t remember?” I asked out of curiosity. “I don’t remember anything anymore. I don’t, I can’t.”

I can’t hold in the tears anymore that show my weaknesses. I always hated looking weak, and I wonder why that is. Who put that thought into my head, I might never know. I just let them loose though, my breathing slowing into choked gasps. I can barely breathe. I’m going to suffocate. I hide my face, hugging myself the way I always do when I’m sad, trying to get as small as I can. I feel a hand on my shoulder, making me jump and making it harder to catch my breath.

“Michael, calm down. No one took him from you. He died, it wasn’t on purpose. Let’s get you back to Bluestone, ok?”

“Markman, can I please ask you one thing?” I ask as she gets up from the grave. She starts walking towards her black car and out of the cemetery. As soon as we’re past the gates, I stop in my tracks, looking back at his grave. She stops and turns to look at me.

“What’s that, Mikey?”

“Will you try to fix me, help me remember again? He did it, but I don’t know how to get back to those times. Please, can you try?” My voice is quivery and shakes, my breath making my voice rise and fall in pitch making me sound like a pubescent teenager trying to talk through a kazoo.

“Oh, of course, Mikey. Anything you want from now on. You’ve been through enough. I promise,” she says. I swear, this woman is sometimes the devil. But other times she’s a saint. I smile slightly at her and she opens the car door for me. I slide in.

We start to drive away from the cemetery. Away from him, back to Bluestone. I’ll be there, regaining memories. But as Markman said, once that patient was released he was able to do anything. I have to try to get better for him so I can visit him whenever. I have to do everything for him.

I let the audible sobs escape my throat where they had been held captive, I let the tears drip from my eyes and onto my chest. I let my breathing become short. Jagged. I let a small whisper escape my mouth, and I know it’s true.

“I promise sweetheart. I’ll get better. For you. Everything’s for you,” I say under my breath. I know Markman didn’t hear me, but that’s the point of whispering. He always loved how shy I am. He loved how I’d whisper things he couldn’t hear, and then he’d have to figure it out.

I was the puzzle he had to put together. I was the broken pieces. He basically finished the puzzle but there was one missing piece. He was so close to finding it. But then he got taken from me. Without me being complete, without that final piece, more went missing.

Chapter Text

I wake up in a cold sweat, thinking of Gerard. It’s been five months since he got transferred to Brock Institute, the place where he died. I roll out of my bed and look around the sad room. It was brighter with Gerard in it. It was better waking up next to him, his hands tangled in my hair. Waking up to a kiss after talking the night away. Everything used to seem fine. But he’s gone now, and I couldn’t say goodbye. I never said my final ‘I love you’. Even if he did say he knew things, I’m not sure that was true. I’m not sure if I said those few three words enough. Even if your dad is the president, there aren’t enough resources in the world to save you.

I grab the skeletons from the ground near my bed and slide them onto my hands, the memories of that Christmas day hurtling back. I change out of my clothes and into jeans and a black shirt that I am pretty sure used to be Gerard’s and head out of my room to go to breakfast. As I walk down the hall, I pass Gerard’s old room. No one had been assigned there, but now there’s a sign on the door. No one’s in it yet, so before someone can take it for good, I walk into the room. No one else is in the hall since it’s so early, so no one is here to yell at me.

I look around and for a split second, I still think he’s here, even though almost all his stuff was transferred to Brock. His thousands of sketches and sketchbooks aren’t here, his bed is made perfectly, and the only thing that shows that someone used to live here are the crumpled papers on the floor. Here at Bluestone, people clean a bed before they take out the trash.

I grab some of the papers off the ground and stuff them into my back pocket. I walk out of his room, which it won’t be anymore, and go down to breakfast.

❌❌❌

I grab today’s meal of cornflakes, which Gerard always claimed to be his favourite, and go over and sit at our table. The only reason I keep our table and don’t let anyone else sit here is because I know Gerard would’ve wanted me to. Everyone here knows not to sit here. I begin eating my food, the same way Gee always did. Let the cornflakes sit in the milk for three and a half minutes, let them get soggy. But unlike Gerard, I eat them instead of starving myself.

I have to get one hundred per cent better so I can be discharged. Once I am, I’ll visit him every day. I’ll visit him long before I even think of seeing my parents. I know they hate me, especially my dad, because of what happened to me. But Gerard knocked sense into him when he told them off.

The cafeteria is packed, and I begin my daily task of scanning the room for friends or enemies. Ben and Zach are talking in the far corner, Bob’s looking out the window in the direction of his favourite tree stump with Adam making another foil hat next to him. Gerard and I would sometimes meet next to the stump that Bob calls Percy, but I don’t think I’ve even gone outside other than for his funeral. I try to find Ray in the crowd of mentally insane people, but he’s vanished. I swear I saw him walk in here and grab food.

“Frank, can you come with me please?” I jerk around and see Markman standing behind me. I didn’t even hear her. She’s like a ninja. I get up from my table and follow her out of the cafeteria and into the room where we have group therapy.

“Markman, Group doesn’t start for another ten minutes, and I was still eating and observing people.”

“Ray wanted to talk to you in private, and I know you don’t like going outside. What you’re going to do is talk to Ray and fix the chairs in the circle for Group. Be nice,” she tells me. I sometimes wonder if she sees me like Gerard. He was never the nicest to anyone and wouldn’t talk ever, which was wonderful. He could stand up for himself. But I wouldn’t object to something she told me to do. She’s in charge here, not me, and I want to be discharged. I’ll put up a pleasant act.

I enter the room and she leaves, and I notice Ray and a kid I’ve never seen before. Ray’s helping this kid, who is probably around sixteen, pick up one of the chairs. It’s almost as if he’s struggling just standing up. And I thought I was weak. I walk over to Ray instead of standing awkwardly in the entryway, but before I can talk to him, the kid extends his hand to me in greeting. I notice a Batman tattoo on his forearm.

“Hello, I’m M-Mikey. Who a-are you?”

Mikey? There’s no way. The one me and Gerard went and found who’s so lost in his mind. The one Gerard would have nightmares about, the one he shot. I can’t believe it. There’s no way it’s him. It has to be a coincidence. The Mikey Way, son of the president, brother of Gerard who’s dead. Is here. He’s here at Bluestone.

I can see the similarities from when he was probably about a year younger. His glasses are still perched on the end of his nose, his head tilted up. The tattoo is a dead giveaway, and his hair is eerily similar to Gerard’s. He had to have gotten better because he doesn’t seem as far away. It looks almost as if he’s become stronger, maybe more aware.

“Hey, Mikey. I'm Frank, Frank Iero. Nice to meet you,” I say as I decide I must be nice to him. I have to plaster on the nice smile and kind eyes that haven’t come naturally to me for months. I mean, he is Gerard’s brother and all. The closest thing I can get to him at this point.

Before Mikey can talk again, Ray hands him a chair. Ray’s smiling as wide as he possibly can at Mikey, and it appears that Mikey likes Ray. Mike stumbles a little, but he goes slowly and places the chair down. He staggers back to me and Ray.

“Ray, can you- can you help me g-get another one?” he asks. He has a voice that is slightly like Gerard’s, but it’s a bit more high-pitched. Only a bit. It’s as if Gerard was younger and stuttered. It’s kind of nice, having another Way around.

“Of course, Mikey!” Ray exclaims. He’s so happy helping Mikey, but then again, he’s always happy. I don’t think Ray’s the craziest one here, but he’s slightly crazy. He’s happy to be crazy though.

❌❌❌

All of the chairs are in the circle, and Dr. Markman magically comes in. Perfect timing. She smiles at us three and gestures toward Mikey, who’s gazing at everything around him. Which is nothing.

“Mikey, we’re going to get you situated in your new room!” She glares at me and Ray, and I’m not quite sure what I did wrong, Mikey standing next to her. “Thank you, both of you, for helping Mikey. I’ll let you talk until the meeting starts.” She leaves the door open, and I watch her and Mikey walk down the hall.

“Frank, I saw a message in my cereal today. You want to know what it said?” Ray asks. He always is proud of his messages, and because this day starts me trying to be nice, I have to say yes. Gerard hated the messages. He didn’t let Ray know. He was kind but was vaguely disinterested. If Ray did know Gerard didn’t care, he didn’t acknowledge it. I think he was just grateful to have someone to tell them to.

“Sure, Ray.”

“Frank, the cereal said that I have to be nice to the new boy. It said he would make me happy! And I think the new boy is Mikey.”

“Ray, you're insanely happy. All of the time.”

“Well, I guess so. But I think this meant happier, a different happy. You and Gerard-type happy. That is different from happy happy.”

Ray is confusing sometimes. I can’t imagine him with little Mikey. In all honesty, I can’t imagine Mikey as a normal 16-year-old though, strong and not lost. “Ray, Mikey still acts like a little kid. He can barely even talk.”

“But, you wouldn’t allow anyone to touch you, yet you still had a thing with Gerard! He fixed you, he helped you get clean. You said so yourself. Why can’t I fix Mikey?”

What sucks is he makes a good point. “Ray, I was dirty because someone did something to me-”

“Someone did something to Mike too!”

“But he’s completely gone and starting from scratch.” As soon as I say that, Ray’s face, which always has a grin on it, forms a tiny pout. I just can’t take it anymore.

I let a sigh escape my mouth, an annoyed one. “You know, Ray? Just be careful with him. Let him take his time, let him try to get better on his own. Just be his friend.”

Ray’s petite smile comes back, and it makes me smile, which I haven’t done for four months and three days. His happy mood is contagious.

Markman comes back in, again being a ninja, and her face is serious.

“Come on, you two, get in your seats. I want to talk to you both about something and then Group will start. We still have about 2 minutes. And then, Frank, I want to have our daily session early.”

Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all.