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

From The Earth To The Morgue (Final Chapter)

Scarlett's POV:

It was time to go home.

It was over. Against all the odds, and against even my own sanity on occasions, I'd done what I'd set out to do, what seemed like so very long ago. I'd seen things I never thought I would, been every person I'd ever wanted to be, so many different kinds of existence, such dramatically different circumstances. It was impossible, the whole thing, but somehow, somewhere along the line, I'd found out it was possible.

I'd be lying, deceiving, if I ever said I hadn't changed during the time my body had been lying comatose. No, I could feel how I thought differently, how I always observed more than I ever had before. Imagining everything, I might have been, but to me it was so much more real than I'd bargained for. This whole phantasmagoric mess of an adventure seemed too often to be just another way of me dreaming, but yet...

I don't know.

Regardless, I had a home to find and a body to get back into, because this was a mess, a weird, random, utterly inexplicably impossible mess of a series of events and I definitely did not want to fuck anything up any more than I might have done already. I'd finished here, it was over, and I'd fallen in love with the adventure but now it was just the aftermath of forfilled promises and the tearstains on my cheeks compelling me to stay.

No, I had a life to return to, the blissful monotony of GCSEs, college, growing older, lazy summers and crystal winters. After everything, all I really wanted was to appreciate the beauty that was right in front of me in my own world.

So, after the meaningful and humbling goodbyes, after the crushing hugs and honoured smiles, I had to go. I didn't turn my back, I didn't want to, hoping instead to engrave into my memory the faces of those I had encountered. It was beautiful, leaving, and the last thing to disappear were the glimmering eyes of Party and Gerard as they watched me go, the white I'd grown to know and learned not to fear clouding my eyes and mind as I focused on home.

The thing that stuck in my mind the most was the fact that I would never see them again, and it was saddening; there was even a lump in my throat as I tried not to show any of it on my face as the blanket of bleak white fog swept over me.

Oh, god, the hospital back home was harrowing. The first thing I was able to pick up was the cacophony, the yells, the screams, of pain, but above that mere whimpers of the defeated and the dying. The whole place reeked of blood and cheap disinfectant, and it was utterly packed, which probably was the cause of the riotous noise, overpowering and terrifying at the same time.

There were children with wads of tissue barely soaking up blood from pouring head wounds, people being carried on stretchers with missing limbs and hair paled by dust and plaster, people taking up every available inch of space, just people. I'd never seen a hospital this hectic, except in a war zone.

Then, as I finally reacted my little cubicle where my lifeless body lay, it all fell into place as my heart fell to pieces.
Gerard, the one who'd been there, holding my hand, there in the ambulance, was still waiting, sleeping, next to the dead flowers in the vase, even after all this time.
And there, on the little table beside them, was a photograph in a delicate silver frame-
My parents.
A letter, in my mum's spirally handwriting, addressed to me.

So I touched my hand, still cold and limp, but then it suddenly felt like it had turned to water, and I fell through. First my hand, then my arm; it felt so strange, so searing yet so cold and refreshing at the same time. I don't know, I don't think there's even a word for that, but I kind of seemed to melt into my body, slowly - then all at once.

Suddenly, and it was like I was programming for it to happen to someone else, I took a breath, then I just seemed to fit and remember how my body worked and felt, where everything was.