Undercover Lover

Failed Escape

Something was off. You weren't sure what it was, but the usual lively atmosphere of Club Killjoy had succumbed to an unshakeable feeling of tension. You noticed wisps of its intensity, noting the increase in meetings between Gerard, Ray, and Frank, as well as a change in Gerard's attitude. Instead of the usual mysterious teasing guy he presented himself as to you, he now seemed weighed down and anxious. You hadn't seen him really smile in about a week now, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Plus, all of this was making your job harder. How could you cozy up to the mafia boss when something was capturing all of his attention?

You decided to head to the Agency after your shift to see if there had been an increase or decrease in murders. Maybe their hit business was suffering or something had gone wrong on a job. You wanted to find out so badly, but you withheld your curiosity, only speaking to Gerard to tell him hello or goodnight. He did the same. Nothing more.

You gathered your jacket and told your co-workers bye at the bar, your eyes immediately shifting to the right as you caught Gerard's office door opening out of the corner of your eye. He looked drained, the tone of his face taking on an even paler shade, his hair messier than usual. You felt a distinct pull inside of you, and for a second the only thing you wanted to do was go and check on him.

Gerard shuffled toward the exit of the club, eyes cast down, his focus within his head rather than on his surroundings.

You automatically knew he was hurt. He was trying to cover up a limp. You watched his eyes shut briefly, a pained expression rippling across his face. Someone was busy last night. You hadn't even seen him come into the club during your shift. He must've snuck in when you were busy chatting up customers. You tore your eyes away as he came closer, not wanting him to catch you staring. He would quickly figure out that you knew what was up with him.

"How'd you do last night?"

You jolted a little, not expecting to hear his words brush past your ear. You turned to see him smiling faintly at you, trying to still be friendly despite how bad he was feeling. Your eyes threatened to trail down to his leg, wondering if you'd see blood pooling at his feet or a tear in his pants, but you kept them steady on the golden color of his eyes.

"Good. Had some very generous and very touchy businessmen," you smirked, shaking your head at the last part. You knew it just came with the job, but some nights left you feeling more uncomfortable than others. Sometimes the tips didn't feel worth the unwanted touches on your lower back or thigh. You'd endure it to finish this case, though.

Gerard's smile seemed to plummet off his face as he listened to you, the gold of his eyes losing what lively glow it had. He shook his head slowly, an agitated breath being drawn in and out of his nose.

"I'm really sorry, Skylar. If you have any trouble like that, please come get me if I'm around. Hell, call if I'm not. I won't have my waitresses disrespected like that," Gerard told you, his tone far from friendly or light. He was pissed.

You just stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by the anger and concern he expressed. Perhaps, he had some smudge of good in him? You coaxed yourself to nod and smile a little, gratitude in your expression.

"You've just been really busy lately. I didn't want to bother you," you replied, your words weighted.

Gerard's hard expression softened a little, a weak sigh puffing from his lips. "I know. I haven't even been able to read any of my new comics," he laughed a little pitifully, leaning his weight against the bar to take the pressure off of his hurt leg.

"You, Gerard Way, have denied your comics attention?" You feigned a shocked expression, drawing a stronger laugh from him.

"Have you given your comics attention, Skylar Davis?" Gerard shot back, voice bordering on a purr.