Name Not Final (frerard killjoy au)

Chapter Nine: Disenchanted

Gerard sat up from his white-sheeted bed and walked to the bathroom, just like every other morning. He stepped into the white-tiled bathroom and looked into the mirror. The familiar sight of his face met him.

Black hair, hazel eyes.

He raised his toothbrush, dipping it slightly into the water in his cup. After squirting a bead of toothpaste onto the bristles, he raised it to his teeth and brushed them.

A few minutes later, he stepped out of the shower with a towel over his wet hair. He put on a white shirt with a black waistcoat and a striped tie. Taking his briefcase, he walked out the door to get breakfast, then go to work in an office.

His breakfast was scrambled eggs, black coffee, bacon.

He stepped onto the bus which would bring him to work. On the road he passed countless draculoids and scarecrows and people, but didn't spare any of them a second glance. He didn't need to. It would always be the same people, the same routine. Gerard knew all of this. The bus would be silent and orderly, his workplace clean and quiet, everything as it should be. A perfect, harmonious society.

It had been a year since he left the BL/ind HQ after what they called a 'check-up'. They told him, when he awoke, that he had been suspected to have feelings of love and care. They said he was beginning to develop emotions. Those words were alien to him, and those words were bad for him. But he was safe now, the people from BL/ind had told him. They had removed those emotions, and he was safe from their harm.

He went to his seat in the office and greeted his colleague, a short man named Frank. After that little 'good morning', no word would leave his mouth until he went back home.

The trip back home was as orderly as the trip to work. Dinner of spaghetti bolognese and more coffee. Bus back home. Water plants. Shower. Brush teeth. Sleep.

Repeat.

And repeat.

And repeat.

He had never doubted this way of living, and had never thought of doubting it, until he accidentally flooded his bathroom.

"You'd have to come with us, Gerard Way," the draculoids appeared at his door. "You are once again a danger to society. You have been suspected of possessing a negative thing called carelessness."

He didn't doubt it. He disrupted the society's peace and quiet. He deserved it.

Gerard Way was brought to the BL/ind for the who-knows-what-th time in his life. He saw figures behind bars, figures in glass rooms, figures with sadly hung heads, shoved into cells.

"Did they do something wrong too?" Gerard asked the draculoid, compassion seeping into his voice.

"You have possessed an emotion called compassion," the draculoid answered. "You must reboot."

"But did they do something wro..." Gerard trailed off as he saw a boy, barely fifteen, brown hair hanging sadly, glasses crooked, sleeping in a cell. "Mikey?" he wondered, wandering closer to the brown-haired boy's cell. "Is it you? Mikey?"

"It's no one you know," the draculoid sneered. "Or do you want to join him in his cell?"

Gerard ignored him. The boy, Mikey, stirred in his sleep. His hazel eyes flickered open as they struggled to identify who had used his name, who had called his name for the first time in a whole year. He fixed his glasses and glance onto Gerard.

"...Brother?" he gasped. "Why are you here? Didn't you and Frank-"

Frank.

Frank.