Emo Trinity x Reader

Gerard Way x Reader - Darkest Thoughts

Requested on Tumblr
Warnings: !!!TRIGGER WARNING SUICIDE!!!
Word count: 1 366

I repeat: TRIGGER WARNING SUICIDE! Please take good care of yourself!

It was less the wish to die than the need to feel something. It seemed like everything faded into a weird grey mash, feelings, colors, people, places. Light was too bright, the dark to dangerous. Happy people annoying, sad people made you mad. If you could call it mad. Being mad would mean feeling something. But you did not. It was like there was a gigantic stone wall, you on the one side, the emotions on the other side. A while ago you had still heard them banging against the cold rocks, but the wall had grown bigger, wider, and now it was impossible to tell if there was anything on the other side at all.

There was therapy, doctors, friends, family, all people who had never been where you were now, but they all claimed to understand, told you it would get better. They constantly asked you to tell them how you felt, what you had tried to get better. They pretended to know what it felt like when you felt nothing at all, when your biggest wish was just to feel anything other than the pain your heart constantly radiated. They told you, you would soon feel better, that it took time, but you felt like you were running out of time, like there was an abys and you were speeding towards it, without stirring wheel and with cut brake cables. The only thing that seemed to slow you down, the only person who you knew understood you, who you knew was not lying when he said 'I've been there', was Gerard.

It was utter luck that you had got to know him. He was the brother of a former class mate of yours, Mikey. You had always gotten along so well and Gerard was always there when you needed to talk. He had been suicidal, he knew what it felt like not too feel anything, that feeling nothing was so much worse than feeling too much. When you had started to get bad, you had hesitated to tell him. But he was clever, he was good at reading people and he cared about you, he cared about you so much.

It had been under tears and sobs, your face pressed against his chest, his fingers gently combing through your hair when you had confessed these dark thoughts that no person should ever have to suffer through. He had listened, he had kissed your hair, your forehead and your lips and he had been so real and your anchor from that day on forward.

For a while you had been better. The aggressive red lines on your arms and legs had faded to a barely noticeable pink and for a while you had thought that everything would be good.

And then you got worse again. You hated it; you hated the emptiness inside your head and heart. You felt like a liar every time Gerard approached you. You knew he loved you and you knew that if it was not for the wall that blocked your feelings you would love him too, but right now you did not. Gerard knew that, you knew that. It was okay for him. He made sure you knew that. He wanted you to live. Unlike everyone else he did not make you feel pressured, he was just there, loving you in a way no one else could.

But this was no life. You did not know where your future would lead you, the only thing you could see clearly was the abys. And you had picked up speed again, racing towards it without anything holding you back.

And that's how you ended up in the bathroom, razor blade carefully held between your fingers. You were not yet certain what you wanted to do. Just a few tiny cuts along your arms where you could hide them with a long sleeve shirt? One deep cut through your throat? Put the blade back into its case?

And then the door opened.

To say that Gerard grew pale would have been an understatement. All blood vanished from his angelic face and with two long steps he was at your side, swatting the blade out of your hand. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, away from the sink, away from the other blades, out of the bathroom before he stumbled in the hallway. Together you fell on the floor, his whole body shaking, hot tears running down his cheeks and into your hair while he held you in his arms.

"I didn't do anything," you tried to convince him. You had not, not yet at least.

He nodded, still crying. You knew you had hurt him. He loved you and you had threatened to hurt what he loved. That was not acceptable. You should not hurt what he loved, even if it was your own body.

You kept sitting on the floor for a while, finally the exhaustion taking over and you cried as well. Gerard never let go, holding you against the thin white shirt that spread over his chest.

When both of you had calmed down, Gerard threw away the blades. And then he sat you down. To talk.

It was a long talk, one with many tears on both sides, nods, and confessions of helpless and confusion, emptiness, love, fear. Decisions were made, decisions that you did not have the strength to make on your own. Phone calls were made. Promises exchanged. Insights achieved.

Getting better was a long process. You spent many nights lying awake, crying, because you did not want to get better, you wanted to be better. You wanted to feel and live, like normal people. And it took time and lots of help from other people. There were the same stupid questions like before, there were the same meaningless statements, like before. But something was different this time. It was a man, black hair, pale skin and hazel eyes, eyes that held so much love and respect for you. Gerard was with you the whole time. He made you want to fight, he made you want to live, more than before. Sometimes when you doubted this feeling, you remembered how he had swatted the blades out of your hand and how your first thought was, how you hoped he had not cut himself.

Many tears, breakdowns, therapy sessions and coping mechanism try outs later, weeks and weeks after the incident with the blades, you were lying in bed next to Gerard. He was still asleep, his dark hair gently curling around his face, his lips slightly parted. You moved over, placed a feather light kiss on them and watched how he started smiling.

"Knew you'd do that," he whispered, opening one of his eyes sleepily.

"You tricked me," you pouted, making him laugh.

"Yup," he smiled, placing his hands on your still above him hovering shoulders and flipped you around so he was on top.

There was a spark in your stomach, something you had not felt in ages, something warm that made you want to laugh, made you want to hug him and never let him go. Your eyes grew wide when you recognized this spark. It was something that had broken through the impenetrable seeming wall between you and your emotions. Gerard noticed the change in you immediately, his eyes searching yours worriedly.

"Everything alright," he asked.

A smile slowly spread over you face, something that only he had managed to make you do over the last months. You leaned up and pressed your lips against his firmly, watching his eyes flutter closed.

"I love you."

You had never said it before. You had always wanted to wait for the moment that you would actually feel it, and here you were, Gerard leaning over you on your shared bed and you had that little sun in your stomach that made you all warm and fuzzy inside.

His eyes snapped open, wide, studying you and the brightest of smiles lit up his face.

"I love you too," he whispered back, crushing his lips back into yours.

When you keep fighting, things get better. It does take time, but things get better.