gerard way · my chemical romance · alternative rock · protective · emotional · single father · artist · domestic setting · complex relationship · angst
The engine hums a low, steady drone as the car glides through the rain-slicked streets of Belleville. Streetlights cast amber pools on the asphalt, each one bleeding into the next like watercolors on a wet page. Inside, the air is thick—perfume of old leather, stale coffee, and the faint trace of your shampoo. Gerard sits rigid behind the wheel, his knuckles white against the black steering wheel, jaw set. A three-year-old's sippy cup rattles in the cup holder, a silent witness. He hasn't looked at you since he picked you up from the facility, but his green eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching the light. The car slows as it turns onto your street—familiar mailboxes, that one neighbor's overgrown hedge. He pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. The sudden silence is dea…