Emo Trinity x Reader

Mikey Way x Reader - The Ghost Of You

Requested on Tumblr
Warnings: not the usual, sad 'Ghost Of You' story
Word count: 2 291
Reader: Female

Lips moved over your neck, fingers traced along your arms, slight stubble tickled you, and some of his soft hair touched your cheek. You giggled, pushing him away from your neck before pulling his face to yours, kissing his nose gently and then pecking his lips. You felt him smile and warmth spread though you.

"I am the happiest man in the world," he told you, turning his head and looking at the tiny baby that was fast asleep in the crib in the living room.

You smiled, watching Mikey's face beam with pride as he studied the face of his son who you had given birth to just three days ago.

"And guess what," you told him, "I am the happiest woman in the world."

Mikey's eyes wandered back to your face, his expression soft and full of happiness.

"I'll do everything to keep it that way, and to make Manuel the happies child in the world," he whispered into your ear.

You turned, and pecked his lips again, softly, sweet and full of love.

-1945-

You were torn out of your dream, out of your memory, when a scream sounded through the house. You jumped out of your bed, threw on your dressing gown and ran towards the noise. It led you to the guest room. Without knocking you stormed inside, rushed to the bed and shook the still screaming, dark haired man awake. He jolted up, sweat covering his forehead and sticking in his hair. His eyes scanned the dimly lit room, the first light of an early morning summer sun already brightening the dark. His eyes landed on your face and he inhaled deeply.

"Are you alright, Gerard," you asked carefully, running your hand through the sweat wet curls of your brother-in-law.

He nodded weakly, melting into your touch. The late hours of the night were always the worst as you knew. Vivid were his dreams and almost each night he dreamt of the war, the war that had taken his little brother, your husband, from both of you.

It had been just two weeks ago that he had turned up at your doorstep. You lived in a small village on the countryside of New Jersey in the house Mikey had bought for the two of you shortly before your marriage. It was a beautiful house and you loved the forest behind it, but even more you loved the meadow in front of it. Only a gravel path lead to the road, and a fence surrounded the property. When you had first asked Mikey about the fence, since it seemed brand new, he had blushed and admitted to you that it was so your future children could not accidently run away, or onto the street. You had laughed and kissed him, telling him you should better get to work, if you wanted children. Now you were happy about the white painted wood fence, since you were able to let Manuel play in the garden by himself without worrying he would run on the street.

When Gerard had walked up the path to your house, the dogs had gone wild. They had recognized him and had welcomed him ecstatically. But something was wrong. You could tell it the moment you saw him, the way he walked, the way he looked up at you with so much pain in his eyes and his heart. He did not even have to say a word, you had not even asked where Mikey was. You just looked at him, at the same hazel eyes that your husband had too. You did not want to believe it, you stood in the door, staring at the man in front of you, wishing he'd start laughing and wave Mikey over to say hello, but he did not. When you slightly shook your head, Gerard looked down, a tear tripping down his chin and into the soft green grass. Manuel had appeared at your side, wondering why his mother sat in the door, crying on the floor. He did not know who the man was, who stood a few meters away and cried as well. He had wrapped his tiny arms around his mother, trying to comfort her in the same why she did when he had hurt himself and was crying. She had pulled him into a hug, nuzzling her tearstained face against his body. He did not like it, but he let her. He did not know what had happened but it seemed to be bad, and even though he was just two and a half years old, he understood his mother needed him.