Action Cat (Gerard Way X Reader)

Happiness

TW: taking/relying on pills (Xanax), isolation, depression, not eating, cocaine (mentioned)

YOUR POV:

My eyes fluttered open to be met with the bright sunlight coming in through the windows. My body ached with pain as I slowly sat up and glanced around. I was in the living room lying on the couch with a new found blanket wrapped around my body.

I sat there staring at the blanket in confusion as I didn't go to bed with a blanket. My mind traveled to Gerard, and I wondered if he was the one who covered me up. But I also couldn't help but wonder if it was one of his parents who stumbled upon me shivering in the night.

I frowned, Gerard was most likely far gone and out of New Jersey. I wrapped the blanket around me as I leaned against the back of the couch and I silently sat there.

It was much too quiet in the house for me to not be alone, and the only sound that could be heard was the occasional car passing outside. It was in complete contrast to where I grew up, usually you'd hear children playing outside and being loud. But New Jersey was a lot more dangerous than my hometown.

I glanced over at the clock on the wall as it read that it was four in the afternoon. I wasn't aware that I had slept all day, and instead of feeling energized, I just felt more exhausted.

I sat there trying to get my bearings straight before I got up and walked into the kitchen. I began to make myself some coffee to satisfy my need for caffeine, but also to try and wake up.

Once it was done, I leaned against the counter and looked out the window at the quiet neighborhood. I've been living here for three years, and you'd think I'd be used to the deserted neighborhood and lack of children playing.

But I wasn't.

I finished my coffee and put the mug in the sink. I was going to wash it later, but I didn't want to right now. I began to make way through the house and over to the basement door which was shut.

I twisted the door handle and stepped inside. I reached for the light switch that made the lights flicker before staying on. I then made my descent down the stairs and into the basement.

It was eerily quiet as I looked over at the basement door that lead outside. Gerard's bags were missing, an indicator that he was truly gone from New Jersey.

I looked over at the bed which was messy as usual, but I noticed that he had left his pillow behind. I wasn't sure if it was intentional or on accident, but I wasn't about to complain.

I laid down on the bed and grabbed his pillow. I shifted it between my body and cuddled into it, inhaling the scent of Gerard's body.

I tried to hold it in, but I couldn't help but cry.

•••

It was now early July, and Warped had been going on for a few days at this point. I hadn't heard from anyone about if they safely made it to their locations, or if they were alive.

It didn't bother me with the others, but it bothered me when it came to Gerard.

I had been calling him and the others, but it always went to voicemail. I never left messages, as I felt like I just being a burden to them. I would call, wait for the voicemail to beep and then hang up.

I knew that they were probably busy and sucked up in the Warped Tour schedule and lifestyle, but it bothered me a lot.

I was doing horribly, and all my anxiety made it impossible to get out of the basement. The anxiety I felt toward the others and my boyfriend was enough to keep me bed bound, not only that but the lingering depression.

I knew that the depression came from me not getting out of bed and not going outside, but how could I bring myself too when it felt like a chore?

Gerard and Mikey's parents tried to get me to come upstairs a few times, and have a nice meal with them. But I always bailed and would stay in bed.

They were nice enough to bring me meals, though I barely touched them.

•••

The nights were the hardest as the demons crept out from their hiding places. They would linger around me, tell me that Gerard was dead and that it was all my fault.

How could it not be my fault?

He was doing cocaine before he left, and I'm sure I was half the reason. Right? Why else would he turn to illegal drugs?

I couldn't sleep due to the thoughts, and I crawled out of bed and over to Gerard's desk. He always kept back up Xanax in his drawer. When he first got prescribed the drug, he poured a few into a bag and kept it in his desk drawer for emergencies. He rarely took his back up pills, but I did.

•••

A week has passed in total, a total of seven days.

Seven days of pure hell.

It was hard to leave the bed.

It was hard to eat, and now the idea was making me sick.

It was hard to take care of myself.

I was slowly killing myself, and the only source of my happiness was Xanax.