Fic: Somewhere In Neverland - Part Seven

[chimneythunder]

“There are only two worlds - your world, which is the real world, and other worlds, the fantasy. Worlds like this are worlds of the human imagination: their reality, or lack of reality, is not important. What is important is that they are there. These worlds provide an alternative. Provide an escape. Provide a threat. Provide a dream, and power; provide refuge, and pain. They give your world meaning. They do not exist; and thus they are all that matters. ”
― Neil Gaiman, The Books of Magic


Pete Wentz woke up, lying on a cold hard surface. Something was grasping at the edges of his sleep, something about fairies and flying...

He sat bold upright. He was in the middle of a dirty, bare room.

“Oh gross,” he said.

Gerard was lying a few feet away from him, snoring away on the floor.

“Hey! Gerard, wake up!!”

He shook Gerard’s shoulder roughly, trying to shake the big lummox awake. Gerard groaned and mumbled something that sounded kinda like “Frank?”

“Gerard, wake up!! Come on Gee, wake up, you lazy fat ass!!” He gave Gerard another shake and then gave up. Instead, he opened his mouth and screamed his best, loudest scream, the one he saved specially for people he didn’t like.

It did the trick. Gerard woke up properly with a yell of surprise.

“Wha -?!” He looked around and then groaned. “Oh my God, we’re here.”

“What?! Where’s here?” Pete asked.

Gerard pushed himself up from the floor and tried the door. It was locked, although he didn’t seem too surprised by this. He patted down his pockets but then muttered “of course, I chucked it in the sea.”

He turned to Pete.

“Pete, how loud can you shout?”


~*~*~


The story Pete gave the cops was that he’d been kidnapped by Peter Pan and had spent three days on board the pirate ship with Captain Hook, until Gerard and Peter Pan had shown up and defeated Hook.

The story Gerard gave the cops was that his ex-boyfriend, Bert, had kidnapped Pete as an attempt to get back at Gerard. Gerard had gone after him and wound up being locked up by Bert with Pete for three days, until a neighbour heard them yelling for help and called the cops. Bert had done a runner and was currently nowhere to be found.

It was noted by the child psychiatrist that Captain Hook in Pete’s version of events bore a rather striking resemblance to Bert McCracken.

“It’s not fair!!” Pete said, kicking the wall in the hospital waiting room. “Why does no one believe me?!”

Gerard had patted him on the head and given him a very patronising smile. Pete Wentz decided there and then that he really hated Gerard.

“Why did you get to have all the adventures?! There’s nothing special about you!!” he said, stamping his foot and folding his arms, glaring up at him. “You’re just fat, old and you don’t wash your hair!! Why did Peter Pan want you as a Lost Boy?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pete,” Gerard said with a smug grin. “You must have dreamt the entire thing.”

Gerard gave his head a small shake and as he did, Pete could have sworn he saw something that looked like gold dust sprinkle out his hair.

Before he could say anything though, at that exact moment, Dale Wentz and Gerard’s Mom had shown up and there were hugs and kisses and happy tears all round – Dale couldn’t stop thanking Gerard and his own Mom was hugging him so tightly that he had to tap her back to remind her to loosen her grip a bit.

“You’re a hero, Gerard,” Dale had said, her eyes shining. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“He’s not a hero!!” Pete whined. “He’s just a big fat loser who totally stole my adventure!! And he’s totally still covered in pixie dust too!! Look, it’s still all in his gross hair!! Moooom, why aren’t you listening to me?!”

“Come on,” Gerard said, wrapping an arm around his Mom’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to make up for the hell he’d put her through in the past few days. “Let’s go home.”


~*~*~


It was a few days after Gerard had got back home and he was back where this tale had started; sitting at the kitchen table, looking over job listings. The only differences this time were that he was using a laptop instead of the papers and there was something about his general tone and attitude that had changed.

Everyone around him agreed on it, although no one would ever admit to his face; whatever had happened in those three days he’d been gone, he’d come back a prouder, stronger and overall happier man. He was still taking anti-depressants as advised by doctors but they believed he’d be able to come off them a lot sooner than expected.

He wasn’t better, not by a long shot. He would never not want alcohol and he knew he’d always have to keep an eye out for any warning signs that he was slipping back into another depressed state but for now, Gerard felt he could at least cope with that.

There was a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Gerard called out, shutting his laptop. His grabbed his cup of coffee and his bare feet skipped over the cold kitchen tiles he made his way to the front door to open it.

Mrs Toro stood on the doorstep.

For a second, Gerard stared at her in shock.

“You’re out your house!” he blurted out.

Her lips twitched in what was unmistakably a smile.

“Every now and then, the situation requires it,” she said with humour laced through it. Her voice was a lot stronger than Gerard was expecting from such a tiny, frail-looking woman. “I’m not stopping. I was hoping to see you, actually. I just wanted to say thank you.”

Gerard couldn’t think of a single thing to say to this, or even what he’d done to merit her thanks, so he responded eloquently with “I – uh – you’re welcome? I guess? Why?”

“I had the police round my house questioning me the minute that Wentz boy ran off,” she explained. “I’m sure you know the rumours, so naturally, I’m apparently the first port of call for them these days when a child goes missing.”

There was no mistaking the bitterness or anger as she spoke, and Gerard found himself nodding.

“That’s fucking stupid,” he said without thinking.

She nodded. “Glad you’ve got some sense. Anyway, your testimony cleared me.”

“But I –”

Gerard hadn’t even mentioned her when he gave his statement to the cops, and they hadn’t brought her up.

“I didn’t do anything,” he finished.

“From what I hear, you went after the Wentz boy.”

“Yeah,” Gerard said, scratching the back of his head as was his habit whenever he was uncomfortable or evading telling the truth. “My ex kinda kidnapped him to try and get back at me.”

“People do horrible things to each other,” she nodded again, her frizzy hair magnifying every move her head made. Mikey used to be scared of her because of the rumour that her hair could absorb children. Today, it was no different; a wild afro that exploded from her head.

Gerard stared at her hair. It reminded him of someone...

And then it clicked.

Gerard’s mug slipped out his hand and smashed on the floor. Coffee sprayed up the walls and soaked his feet.

“Gerard?!” Mom was already at his side. “Are you ok?” She suddenly noticed Mrs Toro and her face hardened.

“I’m fine,” he lied before his Mom could say anything. He couldn’t take his eyes off Mrs Toro’s face. How had he not realised before? She looked exactly like him. “Sorry... hand cramp...”

Mrs Toro gave him a sympathetic look.

“I should probably go,” she said. Gerard tried to protest but she waved him off. “You look like you should be in bed, Gerard.” She smiled warmly at him and then, with only the tiniest of hesitations, patted his shoulder. “Take care of yourself, alright?”


~*~*~


Gerard was curled up under the blankets on Mikey’s bed when he heard the door open.

“What happened now?” Mikey asked with all his usual sympathy. “Mom said Mrs Toro came round and then when she left, you went all weird and quiet. Was it seriously Mrs Toro? Like, actually out her house and all? What did she want?”

The sheets lifted and Mikey climbed in bed next to Gerard, letting the covers fall over their heads. It was too dark to see anything properly but Gerard could feel his brother next to him in the tiny space, hear his breathing.

Once the covers had settled, Gerard said “I met Ray Toro.”

Mikey said nothing but Gerard heard the tiny inhale of shock.

“He’s a Lost Boy,” Gerard said.

There was a small silence.

“At least he’s... well. Alive.”

“Yeah. And he’s all right. Pretty decent kid. But... he can’t remember her. It’s – it’s the way things are there. Neverland makes you forget.”

He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to look Mrs Toro in the face again. He made a promise there and then to start being nicer to her. He’d go over every week or so, see if she needed any errands run or if she just wanted some company. He knew it would never bring Ray back but he hoped it would help slightly.

“I wish I could tell her, you know?” Gerard sighed. “I wish I could tell her he’s OK. He’s safe and he’s happy. But she’d never believe me.”

“Probably not,” Mikey agreed.

Gerard thought back to the wooden sword hidden at the back of his cupboard with a brave little girl’s name carved into it. He wondered about her parents, about where she’d come from and where she’d gone.

He thought about Jimmy, Kitty and even Steve. He wondered what adventures they were having, if they even remembered him.

He didn’t let himself think about Frank though. It was still too painful. The only time he’d let himself think about him properly was after he’d had a dream about Frank the night after he got back. Frank had been sitting in the middle of a forest clearing, surrounded by fairies.

“I wish...” he was saying. “I wish I was. I know you can grant wishes if someone wants it enough here... and believe me, I do.”

The fairies and stars all stared at him, waiting. They already knew what he wanted but they needed him to say it. Gerard tilted his head, watching in curiosity. What could Frank possibly want? More Lost Boys, maybe?

“I wish –I wish that whatever I’m needed to be... I want to be it.”

When Gerard woke up, his chest hurt with so much longing that he swore to himself he wouldn’t think about Frank again, about what could have been if things had been different. It could never happen and it would only hurt to dwell on it.

Gerard knew what Frank needed to be. He was needed to be Peter Pan. The world needed Peter Pan and everything he stood for. Of faith, trust and fairy dust, of childhood innocence, of never growing up, of magic... Peter Pan was more than just a silly nonsense children’s story. It was a reminder to forever keep dreaming in a dark world. It was hope. Gerard knew he wouldn’t have gotten to where he was now if it hadn’t been for Frank, so who was he to deny such wonder to others needing it?

Frank probably didn’t even remember him anymore, Gerard figured. He’d never even carved his name into the Hangman’s Tree.


~*~*~


“I always like to look on the optimistic side of life, but I am realistic enough to know that life is a complex matter.”
- Walt Disney


It was a few days later and Gerard Way’s fortunes were on the rise. One of the local art galleries was looking for someone to help out with the clerical work and general running of the place. Gerard had phoned up and mentioned he had an interest in art, especially the more twisted and strange stuff. The woman on the other end of the phone asked if he could come in for an interview that day.

The gallery was in the quieter part of town. When he walked in, the entire place was deserted.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing around the rooms.

He wandered through the gallery, trying to find someone - anyone - when he stopped dead. On one of the walls was a selection of dioramas with the words ”To die will be an awfully big adventure” written above them. He took a closer look.

He was amazed by the style, which was paper figures cut out and folded into position. There was a very child-like way they’d been executed underlying the adult-elegance. One of the diorama’s caught his eye in particular; a weeping figure with long black hair was crouched over a child in a school uniform. There were strings coming out from the child’s neck with intricately cut red butterflies attached.

Gerard let his fingers linger on the glass case, staring at the scene.

“Don’t touch the art,” came a woman’s voice.

Gerard jumped back, caught doing something he shouldn’t. A woman with black hair scraped back in a bun and a rather stern-looking face stared at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, sorry!” he babbled. “I just – wow. That’s awesome.”

The woman suddenly smiled at Gerard, all the more warmer.

“Really?” she asked. Her deep-red lips quirked up at one corner. “A lot of people say they think it’s too weird or immature.”

“Well, they’re fucking idiots,” Gerard said honestly. “Who made this?”

She gestured to the plaque at the side of the piece.

“Lindsey Ballato,” Gerard read out. “Oh shit, really? She’s the woman who owns this place, isn’t she? I’ve got an interview with her, do you know where she is?”

The woman gave him a quizzical look.

“Gerard Way?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

She smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Lindsey. It’s nice to meet you.”


~*~*~


Gerard got the job at the art gallery. The weeks passed and he started to get into an adult routine he’d never managed while living in New York, working 9 to 5 and earning money, eating regularly and taking more care of himself. He and Lindsey had almost instantly become friends; she had a very strong streak of aggression to her and she didn’t suffer fools but she took the time out to teach Gerard everything he needed to know about running the art gallery and when she saw him doodling on the back of an old receipt and discovered he could draw, she’d immediately suggested he displayed some of his work there. Gerard had then had to explain he hadn’t really done much in the past few years and he didn’t even have a current sketchbook.

Without another word, Lindsey had disappeared into one of the back rooms and came back out a few seconds later with a black, leather-bound sketchbook and a handful of graphics pens.

“Sometimes, things turn up in here and I’m not sure who they belong to,” she explained, handing them over to him. “So I put them away and wait until the owner shows up.”

“These aren’t mine,” he said, hesitant to take them.

“Sure they are,” she said with a smile. “They’ve been here for a while and they’re sure as shit not mine! Call it a bonus.”

“Is this so you don’t actually have to pay me a bonus?” he smirked, his fingers closing around the edges of the sketchbook. Mine, he thought.

She’d laughed. “Drat, you’ve seen through my evil scheme.”

His relationship with his Mom and Mikey was improving too. He started going out to more and more gigs with Mikey and once he started earning enough, he starting helping out his Mom around the house with chores and shopping.

Bit by bit, he was starting to rebuild his life. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure where he was going with it but he was starting to be OK with that.


~*~*~


It was one day towards the start of October when Gerard was running late for work. He’d had to sprint out the house, a slice of toast in his mouth and a quick crumby kiss on the cheek to his Mom and only just made his bus into town. He sank down on a nearby seat with a heavy sigh of relief.

As the bus carried on with its journey, something started nagging at Gerard’s attention. He wasn’t sure what it was. Idly, he looked at the random shadow on the floor of the bus and let his mind start to wander. He stuck his hand into his pocket, playing with the thimble he kept in there. He hoped Lindsey wouldn’t be too pissed at him for being late...

The shadow on the floor suddenly looked at him and flipped him the finger.

Gerard gave a yell of horror, jumping back in his seat as the bus screeched to a halt for the next stop. The shadow shook its head disapprovingly and then flew off out the open door.

“Hey, wait!!” Gerard yelled, scrambling to his feet and chasing after it (and ignoring the weird look he got from the driver). The shadow had flattened against the wall of a building, hands on hips and then it checked its wrist as if it to say “come on, we’re in a hurry!”

The second Gerard was close enough, it took off again, flying against the side of the building. Gerard ran after it, dodging out the way of random people on the sidewalk. The shadow hesitated on a corner and then disappeared around it –

“Hey!!” Gerard yelled, tearing around the corner -

He crashed solidly into someone and they both went flying to the ground.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!!” Gerard babbled out at the same time as the guy said “Shit, are you OK?!” and then Gerard suddenly saw his face.

He stared at the guy he’d just taken down. He was wearing baggy torn jeans and under his jacket, Gerard could see a faded t-shirt that had a random leaf stencilled on the front.

“Fuck man, sorry, I totally wasn’t paying attention,” the guy said with a small smile, shaking his head. “Are you OK?”

Gerard stared at him. He knew that smile. He knew that face. He knew that voice. But...

The guy was getting to his feet, brushing himself off and held out a heavily tattooed hand out to Gerard. Gerard let himself be pulled to his feet and as he did, he caught sight of more tattoos disappearing off up the guy’s arms and on his neck.

“You’re short,” Gerard blurted out, looking down at the guy.

The guy raised his eyebrow.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” he asked.

Gerard just stared at him. He suddenly remembered the image from his dream, of the wish. “Whatever I’m needed to be, I want to be it.” His chest tightened.

Oh Frankie, he thought. You didn’t...

But he clearly had, because here he was, all grown-up and clearly had no idea who Gerard was.

Frank looked a little at a loss of what to do.

“OK, well... if you’re not hurt, I’m just gonna ... go,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction.

“What were you doing?” Gerard asked. “Before you – we ran into each other.”

Frank suddenly laughed.

“I was just chasing my shadow, you know?” he said, looking a little embarrassed to admit it. “As you do. Late for work, procrastinating and all...”

“You work?” Gerard asked, surprised.

“Yeah, at the bookshop over on fourth,” Frank said with a gesture of the direction.

“Iero’s Books?” Gerard asked. “That’s the one that has this whole section devoted to classical children’s literature, isn’t it?”

“You know it?” Frank sounded delighted. “Awesome! Yeah, that’s the one! Family business and all – I took it over a few years ago.”

Gerard couldn’t make sense of this. Was it really him? Where had he got the family and previous life from? Then again, he’d wondered the same thing about Lindsey after he’d met her. It hadn’t taken him too long to figure out who she was; she’d matured and grown up but her general essence was the exact same as the little girl who had tried to teach him how to sword fight. One afternoon in the gallery, she told him her current art pieces – her beautiful, strange art that bore childish nightmare resemblances to Gerard’s own undeniable memories – came from a lot of the dreams and games she used to play after school when she was a kid.

“So, you... it was all a dream?” he asked, frowning.

“Maybe?” she said with a mysterious smile. “When you’re a kid, the line between real and make-believe kinda blurs.”

The best and only explanation he’d come up with for it all was faith, trust and pixie dust.

“So,” Frank said, and then paused. He’d been fumbling around in his pockets as he’d been speaking until he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter –

Gerard’s Lucky Lighter.

In his chest, Gerard felt his heart stutter as his hand automatically shot into his own pocket and squeezed the thimble.

Thankfully, Frank didn’t seem to notice and blew a mouthful of fresh smoke up into the air, oblivious.

“So, what about you?” he asked. “What were you doing before our paths literally crossed?”

“Uh... same as you actually,” Gerard said. “Procrastination and shadow chasing. At least... I think it was mine. Might not have been.”

He looked around for the shadow but it was long gone.

Frank laughed again, and Gerard caught sight of nose and lip rings that glinted in the sun.

“Are you OK?” Gerard asked. “I mean, I kinda took you out there.”

Frank just shrugged. “Nah, I’m pretty resilient!”

There was an awkward pause. Gerard stared at him, willing some kind of sign to appear. Was this just the universes way of mocking him or was it something else?

“Well, if you’re really OK,” Frank said, and turned to go.

There was still no sign.

Fuck it.

“I’m Gerard,” Gerard said.

Frank smiled and held out his hand. “Frank.”

Gerard just managed to hold himself back from saying “I know.” Instead, he mentally sent an apology in advance to Lindsey and instead said “Do you want to grab a coffee? I kinda took you out back there, it’d be my way of apologising.”

If he picked Lindsey up a coffee up and brought Frank along to the gallery, she’d understand. She would totally understand...

Frank grinned – and yeah, there it was. That brilliant grin that was just a few inches off a powerful crow. Gerard felt his heart swell with hope.

“Yeah,” Frank said. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” Gerard couldn’t stop the happy squeak in his voice.

“Yeah,” Frank said and then held up his hand. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”



“To live would be an awfully big adventure.”
- J.M Barrie, Peter Pan.



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