We're All Outcasts (Gerard Way/ MCR Fanfiction)

Into Your Icy Blues

That night, lying down on top of a bed (still marked with rather dubious- looking stains from the previous occupants), I finally had time to myself to reflect on my life.

I'd just finished target practice with Party. My muscles were aching and my eyes were sore from the dust, but I was filled with another kind of pain: the pain of knowing that you were responsible for someone else's tears. The only reason Gerard had self- harmed, and I knew this, was because of me and my selfishness. It might as well have been me who had dragged the razor blade across his arms. It might as well have been me who had pulled Gerard back into his old habits, straight back into his personal hell where his demons threatened to eat him alive. It was me and, suddenly, my grand plan of helping the other Gerards didn't seem like anything worthwhile compared to the pain that Gerard himself was suffering.

My solitude also gave me time to dwell on my weaknesses, my Achilles heel. It was that I cared so much about the tiny details that I never saw the impact I was having on the bigger picture. It was that I was so wrapped up in the little cocoon that was my own head that I never bothered to look up and face problems. My weaknesses, I hated them with such venomous loathing... But there was nothing I could do. My weaknesses were part of me, my flaws were what made up those tiny elements of my personality. And unless there was a way of re- writing my own mind, they make me who I am.

There was a knock on the door; Kobra's voice called from outside my room:

"We saved you a can of Power Pup."

Whoopee- doo. Please allow me a moment to describe Power Pup. Actually, no, I don't need to; it is what it says on the tin. It looks like dog shit. It smells like dog shit. It tastes a hell of a lot worse than dog shit. In fact, I reckon I'd rather chance eating dog shit than stomach another can of that stuff. I just felt sorry for the Killjoys - it was the only form of food there was, unless you were willing to steal from Battery City. Thankfully, the reality kept me alive so I didn't actually have to eat more than twice a week.

"Thanks. You can come in if you like."

"So, how 'ya holding up?" he asked, hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

Yup, I'm just peachy, thanks. Just thinking about how I've ruined someone's life...

"I'm feeling kinda crap at the moment."

"Oh? What's wrong?"

"I- in my reality, someone I know self- harmed because of me. It's because I'm in a coma and..." I tailed off, not knowing what to say.

"I'm sorry. But it wasn't your fault. Hey, come here." He made to sit down, but I stopped him.

"Don't sit there, there's a mystery stain left from whoever used those sheets last and I don't want you sitting right in it."

Kobra shrugged and sat there anyway.

"Meh, my jeans are dirty anyway. What's one more stain gonna do?"

He put his arm around me and I had to admit, it was comforting.

"Y'know, we can do this. Kill Korse and take control of the City. We really can. I believe in you, Gasoline. I saw you shooting earlier - you were great. I'd say you were as good as Party."

"Hey, thanks." I mumbled, trying not to look Kobra in the eye. Embarrassed, I didn't want him to see the blush spreading up my face. I swear it's as if I'm allergic to compliments and my reaction is to blush fiercely. Of course, I didn't believe him one little bit but the sentiment was there.

"The real reason I came here was to ask you something," he began, before looking me in the eye. It was a genuinely nice glance, and there was nothing in it but friendship.