In Short, A Long Goodbye

Rating: NC-17, Dead Dove

Fandom: MCR/FFTL

Ships: Sonnrard

Warnings: rape, murder, gore, past rape

The chill of autumn hadn't quite found a home yet, but the night air was still pleasantly cool after a long and hot day full of rock and roll music and teenage perspiration. The Delaware River sat still and quiet before Gerard's feet, unbothered by the occasional bit of cigarette ash flicked onto its surface. 

He just needed a place to get away and smoke before they had to make their way further north into New York. It wasn't a long drive- probably 2 hours, 3 if the traffic was bad. They'd make the trip in the morning.

Well, Gerard wouldn't, not that he knew it yet. 

The soft sound of footsteps alerted Gerard to someone else's presence, but he wasn't alarmed. He turned to take a look. It was Sonny Moore, the teenage frontman of From First To Last. He and Gerard weren't necessarily close by any means, but they had history together, having both played Warped the year before.

Gerard opened his mouth to greet Sonny, just as the glint of moonlight against the metal baseball bat in the younger's hand caught his eye. 

"Uh- hey, Sonny," Gerard said, smiling in his awkward, lop-sided way. "I, uh, never pegged you for the sporty type. What's with the bat?"

"I was hoping you'd ask, actually," Sonny said with a smile, before pulling the bat back and swinging. 

Gerard cried out in pain as he collapsed to his knees, legs swept out from under him. The sudden pain was sharp and throbbing. Gerard was pretty sure he'd heard the crunch of bone. 

"Shit," Gerard hissed out, barely catching himself with his hands. He felt a splinter from the wooden dock enter his palm, but he had bigger things to worry about. His breaths came small and shaky. "Sonny, what the hell?!"

"Sick fuck," Sonny spat, planting a foot firmly on Gerard's back, forcing his head lower to the ground. "I haven't fucking forgotten what you did."

A thousand thoughts raced through Gerard's mind, guilt beginning to gnaw at the edges of his dirty conscience. He'd never been sure if Sonny remembered that night- the night Gerard had let his perverted desires get the best of him. He was positive Sonny was too intoxicated to remember a thing, but…

"I was sixteen!" Sonny shouted, emotion warbling the edges of his voice. " Sixteen!"

"I- Sonny, we can-"

"Shut the fuck up," Sonny snapped, stomping down a little harder. "I bet I wasn't even the only one."

Gerard didn't have anything to say to that. He couldn't say anything, because Sonny was right. 

Sonny took his foot off Gerard's back and circled around him, slow and calculated, like a vulture. Gerard didn't dare move, pain and fear overtaking his body, paralyzing him. Sonny eventually came to a stop standing behind Gerard, where his ass remained in the air. After a moment, he brushed his bat against Gerard's thigh; not a hit, but a threat. 

"I want to make you feel exactly how I felt. But I'm nice. You'll get the sweet release of death when I'm done. And you won't have to spend every day for the rest of your life feeling as dirty as I do."

Cold horror washed over Gerard, pumping through his veins as if Sonny had hooked him up to an IV filled with dread.

"Sonny, don't- you're just a kid. I don't want to see you spend the rest of your life behind bars."

"Good thing you won't have to, then." Sonny grinned and pulled his bat away from Gerard, kneeling behind him and setting the bat down. Gerard shifted forward just slightly, hopeful to escape- Sonny grabbed the back of his jeans. 

"I can make this easy on you or I can break every bone in your body before I finish the job and make you beg me to end you. Don't you fucking move."

At that, Gerard stilled. Sonny waited a moment, watching for the elder's obedience, before pulling down Gerard's pants and boxers in one deft motion. Gerard tensed at the feeling of fresh air along his lower half. Sonny sneered.

"This is gonna hurt a whole lot worse if you keep clenching like that."

Gerard didn’t relax, after all, how could he? Not that Sonny cared if it hurt him or not. He hoped it hurt, actually. 

Sonny picked his baseball bat back up and thrust the wide end of it into the cleft of Gerard’s asscheeks. Gerard made a small, surprised sound- something like a hiccup. Still shaking. Sonny pressed harder to his hole.

“It’s not gonna-”

Gerard’s breath hitched as he was proven wrong, the tight ring of muscle giving in to cold, hard force. The intrusion burned, no lube to ease the friction. Against his will, a choked sob escaped him. He gripped tight to the pier, anything to make the pain more bearable. It hardly worked, but the sore point in his palm from the splinter was better to focus on. It wasn’t so cruel, so humiliating. Still, Gerard felt tears gather at the corners of his eyes. It hurt. A part of him thought about crying out for help, but who would hear him? Who would come to his aid in the dead of night? 

Gerard felt the wetness on his cheeks before he heard the sniffle that escaped him- it felt almost like he wasn’t even in control of his body anymore, just an outside observer trapped within his own flesh. Somewhere far-off, he heard Sonny sneer, and the thrusting motion of the bat grew rougher. It was like something cruel and sadistic had come over the teenager one night, something Gerard had never seen in Sonny before.

Another hard shove- this time Sonny didn't let up, didn't pull back. A sound of frustration escaped him. He raised his knee and set a foot on the skinny end of the bat, the part sticking out of Gerard, and then stamped down, hard. Gerard's body jerked forward with the force, and a choked gag escaped him. He was shaking, now- Good. Sonny hoped he was goddamn scared. He kicked again. Gerard lurched dangerously close to the edge of the dock. His body heaved, and the sound that escaped him was barely more than a wheeze. 

Sonny kicked again, burying the bat much deeper inside him.

“Fucker.”

Gerard couldn’t respond. A wet, raspy sound escaped him. It was difficult to see under the pale light of a waxing crescent, but Sonny noticed something dark on the wooden surface of the dock. He set his foot down and paced closer to Gerard’s head. It was blood. Sonny knelt down to Gerard’s side and grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head upward so he could see the elder’s face. As Sonny thought- a trail of blood, saliva, and who-knows-what-else dribbled from Gerard’s lips.

“Shit,” Sonny muttered, looking down to the small pool of blood that stained the wood. It was too big to go unnoticed now, at least, when Sonny considered the police would be looking for Gerard come morning. So much for keeping this relatively mess-free. Not much to do about it now.

Sonny shook his head and stood up, letting go of Gerard’s hair. He returned to where he stood prior, grabbing the hilt of the bat.

“I’d ask if you have any last words, but that’s kind of cliche,” Sonny mused aloud, unsheathing the bat from Gerard’s insides- it was covered in blood. The sound Gerard made indicated that it hurt just to remove.

Sonny took the lack of response to be- who knows, some kind of defeat, acceptance. Maybe Gerard had no words left in him. It didn’t matter. 

Sonny raised his bat, then swung down. Gerard’s head made a sick squelch when Sonny made contact. The impact was immediate- blood and brain spattered along the deck, and Sonny delighted in the rush. Some had gotten on his sneakers, but that didn’t matter. Gerard Way was dead by Sonny’s hand.

Sonny smiled as he poked at the body with the bat, wordlessly rolling it into the Delaware River, hopefully to never be seen again. He threw his weapon in after it- the water would wash away his fingerprints.

Sonny glanced down. Some of the blood got onto his sneakers, and his jeans felt just a little wet, but they were so dark it probably wouldn’t show. He stepped away and retreated into the darkness.