Story: To Hide the Faults I Feel (MCR)
Aug. 5th, 2008 02:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsHappy birthday ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
crowgirl13
I hope this is something like you wanted &hearts:
Title: To Hide the Faults I Feel
Fandom: Bandom - My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Bob centric Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1217
Summary: The thing is, along with his blond hair and blue eyes, Bob's genes have also given him the gift of empathy. It's just how things are.
Thanks go tosperrywink ephemera_pop and msktranny for all their help. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.
The thing is, along with his blond hair and blue eyes, Bob's genes have also given him the gift of empathy. It's just how things are.
As a result, he conducts his life from behind solid mental barriers. Without them he'd be brought to his knees. It's hard enough handling your own emotions, taking on more is insane, so Bob exists in a world of cool detachment -- a friend, a lover, a son -- but always that one step removed.
That is, until he signs on to tech for The Used.
They head off on tour and live in such close quarters that within a short time, and despite Bob's best efforts, their emotions bleed through.
It's the middle of the night and he's curled up in a bunk, eyes dry and skin itching.
Desperation. Need. Worthlessness.
He wants to crawl from under his blanket and pull back curtains. Say, you're better than that. You'll make it. It's okay. He doesn't. Can't. And, despite being ashamed of running away, when he gets the chance, he leaves.
It's better then.
My Chem aren't his band, and despite their raw emotions - the suffering they all wear just under their skin - the only emotions he feels are his own.
Then they are his band. His friends. His best friends. Things begin to change.
At first it's the most obvious emotions he second-hand feels. The pure aura of a lifetime of love when Mikey and Gerard curl on the couch. Joy when Frank picks up his phone and sees Jamia's name. Satisfaction when Ray masters the perfect note, his happiness all too apparent as he listens to his song. But mostly, it's easy committed friendship based on respect and love. And Bob is a part of that, is secure in his place.
That security makes him careless. His barriers weaken, and no matter how he tries to shore them up once he realises, they tumble again.
Bob wakes in the morning, and anxiety is already twisting in his stomach. Stumbling into the lounge he concentrates on the rumble of the road under his bare feet, the heat of his coffee and not on the fact that Gerard is hidden away in his bunk, the weight of the world on his shoulders and terrified of the cravings that constantly urge him to give in.
Need. Want. Failure.
Bob twirls his sticks between his fingers as Frank slips outside. Sits on grass dried to a crispy brown, hair falling forward and back bowed as he talks on his cell, torn between his love of touring and desperately missing home.
Love. Disappointment. Guilt.
The crowd roars their approval, yells their names and sweat slides down Bob's face, soaks his shirt. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, looks as Mikey inches back, trying to hide in every way.
Fear. Frustration. Panic.
Ray talks to the fans, scrawls his names on countless scraps of paper and posters and always smiles.
Resentment. Irritation. Longing.
Four extra sets of emotions that tangle around Bob's own.
It's exhausting. He hitches Frank higher on his back and spins him around. Passes Gerard a warm Coke and watches him draw. Pulls Ray away from the grasping hands of the fans and listens to him vent his frustrations. Sits next to Mikey, silent and undemanding until finally Mikey can breathe.
Bob takes the emotions of his band so he can attempt to quietly fix and heal. It's what he does. It's just, sometimes, he misses emotions that are solely his own. It's why when his wrists begin to ache he drums harder. Why, when he falls he brushes off the bruises and plays on.
He welcomes the pain. At least he knows it's his own.
He holds onto that, keeps on going. Gets burned and ends up in hospital, spending time hooked up to drips and machines. He lies still, stripped back and afraid. Feeling the pain of those dying, of those left behind. He feels the joy of celebrating new life and those that feel nothing at all, their minds and bodies numb.
Bob hates those non-emotions worst of all.
Alone, he recreates his mental walls. Painstakingly building until the the emotions of the world are a background drone. Then he goes back home. Still weak, still scared, and within hours those walls have weakened, his band reclaiming their place in his heart.
Then after, new beginnings and the world at their feet. They go to record the new album and it should be the start of the new dawn. Except Mikey's drifting, is lost in his own mind and as hard as he tries, Bob can't stop things falling apart.
He sits in on tense meetings filled with non-words.
Worry. Worry. Worry. Alone.
Listens to creaks in the night and slamming doors.
Denial. Fear. Anger. Alone.
Wraps an arm around Frank's shoulder, bumps against Ray's arm. Steers them inside as Gerard watches Mikey be driven away.
Grief. Failure. Confusion.
Bob shores up his barriers the best he can as he patiently allows Frank to climb and bounce and scramble, drinks coffee on the porch with Ray, sits with Gerard, giving him the silence he needs.
They endure and things around them pick up pace again, and Bob just keeps going. It's easier that way. If he doesn't stop he doesn't have to examine what he feels. He can pretend that the gnawing sense of loss is hunger. That the fear is insignificant and no one is walking an edge. Ready to drink. Ready to leave. Ready to fall.
Bob holds onto the good times like they're a lifeline. In so many ways they are, and, gradually, there are more of them. Eventually, they might outnumber the bad.
He sits on the bus and pretends to read. In reality he's reaching out, a smile twitching at his lips as Frank curls next to Gerard, both laughing as they text Mikey and read his immediate random replies. Or early mornings in hotels when Bob's alone in his room. He presses his bare toes against clean sheets, concentrating on the beacons of friendship and the three that are more, the ones that shine brightly with love.
Plus one more, which Bob can't feel. But he knows that it's there.
It keeps him going. Knowing that as hard as things get, he's never alone.
They keep on touring, Matt instead of Mikey, and Bob drums, his wrists throbbing with pain. He looks out at the audience, feels their love, their lust, their need. If they could the fans would eat them alive and Bob rides the swell of emotion until he's breathless and spent.
It's almost enough.
Then Mikey comes back and something that was broken becomes whole.
There's a towel draped over Bob's shoulders and he grins as he scrubs at his face. Because it's only been one song, but it's the start of the beginning once more. Tentatively he reaches out, lets down his barriers completely as they tumble onto the bus. He sits on the couch and within seconds Frank's on his knee, Mikey and Gerard sitting either side of them, Ray sliding to the floor, his back pressed between Bob's leg.
Love. Friendship. Respect. Love.
Bob feels it all.
crowgirl13I hope this is something like you wanted &hearts:
Title: To Hide the Faults I Feel
Fandom: Bandom - My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Bob centric Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1217
Summary: The thing is, along with his blond hair and blue eyes, Bob's genes have also given him the gift of empathy. It's just how things are.
Thanks go to
sperrywink ephemera_pop and msktranny for all their help. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.The thing is, along with his blond hair and blue eyes, Bob's genes have also given him the gift of empathy. It's just how things are.
As a result, he conducts his life from behind solid mental barriers. Without them he'd be brought to his knees. It's hard enough handling your own emotions, taking on more is insane, so Bob exists in a world of cool detachment -- a friend, a lover, a son -- but always that one step removed.
That is, until he signs on to tech for The Used.
They head off on tour and live in such close quarters that within a short time, and despite Bob's best efforts, their emotions bleed through.
It's the middle of the night and he's curled up in a bunk, eyes dry and skin itching.
Desperation. Need. Worthlessness.
He wants to crawl from under his blanket and pull back curtains. Say, you're better than that. You'll make it. It's okay. He doesn't. Can't. And, despite being ashamed of running away, when he gets the chance, he leaves.
It's better then.
My Chem aren't his band, and despite their raw emotions - the suffering they all wear just under their skin - the only emotions he feels are his own.
Then they are his band. His friends. His best friends. Things begin to change.
At first it's the most obvious emotions he second-hand feels. The pure aura of a lifetime of love when Mikey and Gerard curl on the couch. Joy when Frank picks up his phone and sees Jamia's name. Satisfaction when Ray masters the perfect note, his happiness all too apparent as he listens to his song. But mostly, it's easy committed friendship based on respect and love. And Bob is a part of that, is secure in his place.
That security makes him careless. His barriers weaken, and no matter how he tries to shore them up once he realises, they tumble again.
Bob wakes in the morning, and anxiety is already twisting in his stomach. Stumbling into the lounge he concentrates on the rumble of the road under his bare feet, the heat of his coffee and not on the fact that Gerard is hidden away in his bunk, the weight of the world on his shoulders and terrified of the cravings that constantly urge him to give in.
Need. Want. Failure.
Bob twirls his sticks between his fingers as Frank slips outside. Sits on grass dried to a crispy brown, hair falling forward and back bowed as he talks on his cell, torn between his love of touring and desperately missing home.
Love. Disappointment. Guilt.
The crowd roars their approval, yells their names and sweat slides down Bob's face, soaks his shirt. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, looks as Mikey inches back, trying to hide in every way.
Fear. Frustration. Panic.
Ray talks to the fans, scrawls his names on countless scraps of paper and posters and always smiles.
Resentment. Irritation. Longing.
Four extra sets of emotions that tangle around Bob's own.
It's exhausting. He hitches Frank higher on his back and spins him around. Passes Gerard a warm Coke and watches him draw. Pulls Ray away from the grasping hands of the fans and listens to him vent his frustrations. Sits next to Mikey, silent and undemanding until finally Mikey can breathe.
Bob takes the emotions of his band so he can attempt to quietly fix and heal. It's what he does. It's just, sometimes, he misses emotions that are solely his own. It's why when his wrists begin to ache he drums harder. Why, when he falls he brushes off the bruises and plays on.
He welcomes the pain. At least he knows it's his own.
He holds onto that, keeps on going. Gets burned and ends up in hospital, spending time hooked up to drips and machines. He lies still, stripped back and afraid. Feeling the pain of those dying, of those left behind. He feels the joy of celebrating new life and those that feel nothing at all, their minds and bodies numb.
Bob hates those non-emotions worst of all.
Alone, he recreates his mental walls. Painstakingly building until the the emotions of the world are a background drone. Then he goes back home. Still weak, still scared, and within hours those walls have weakened, his band reclaiming their place in his heart.
Then after, new beginnings and the world at their feet. They go to record the new album and it should be the start of the new dawn. Except Mikey's drifting, is lost in his own mind and as hard as he tries, Bob can't stop things falling apart.
He sits in on tense meetings filled with non-words.
Worry. Worry. Worry. Alone.
Listens to creaks in the night and slamming doors.
Denial. Fear. Anger. Alone.
Wraps an arm around Frank's shoulder, bumps against Ray's arm. Steers them inside as Gerard watches Mikey be driven away.
Grief. Failure. Confusion.
Bob shores up his barriers the best he can as he patiently allows Frank to climb and bounce and scramble, drinks coffee on the porch with Ray, sits with Gerard, giving him the silence he needs.
They endure and things around them pick up pace again, and Bob just keeps going. It's easier that way. If he doesn't stop he doesn't have to examine what he feels. He can pretend that the gnawing sense of loss is hunger. That the fear is insignificant and no one is walking an edge. Ready to drink. Ready to leave. Ready to fall.
Bob holds onto the good times like they're a lifeline. In so many ways they are, and, gradually, there are more of them. Eventually, they might outnumber the bad.
He sits on the bus and pretends to read. In reality he's reaching out, a smile twitching at his lips as Frank curls next to Gerard, both laughing as they text Mikey and read his immediate random replies. Or early mornings in hotels when Bob's alone in his room. He presses his bare toes against clean sheets, concentrating on the beacons of friendship and the three that are more, the ones that shine brightly with love.
Plus one more, which Bob can't feel. But he knows that it's there.
It keeps him going. Knowing that as hard as things get, he's never alone.
They keep on touring, Matt instead of Mikey, and Bob drums, his wrists throbbing with pain. He looks out at the audience, feels their love, their lust, their need. If they could the fans would eat them alive and Bob rides the swell of emotion until he's breathless and spent.
It's almost enough.
Then Mikey comes back and something that was broken becomes whole.
There's a towel draped over Bob's shoulders and he grins as he scrubs at his face. Because it's only been one song, but it's the start of the beginning once more. Tentatively he reaches out, lets down his barriers completely as they tumble onto the bus. He sits on the couch and within seconds Frank's on his knee, Mikey and Gerard sitting either side of them, Ray sliding to the floor, his back pressed between Bob's leg.
Love. Friendship. Respect. Love.
Bob feels it all.
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no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 01:48 pm (UTC)Terri! I love this!
I think that empathy is a good choice for a Bob-ian ability - it's got plausibility, fits tidily in established behavior. [ie. Of COURSE he doesn't want his picture taken - it's difficult enough, shoring himself up from the inside. Besides, who knows what someone else might see?] I like the casual connection of ability to genetics too - that the empathy just is, and isn't a big deal.
The thing that wrecks me is that Bob struggles in silence, and that his empathy doesn't make communication any easier. My heart aches for Bob in his solitude;I want him to have an ally, someone who *knows* so he can let his guard down and rest. But I also understand why he keeps that secret close. His persistence [or maybe tenaciousness?] is pretty awe-inspiring. A lot of people would give up or let themselves be overwhelmed, but he just continues onward. It's an impressive display of will.
Several places here skirt the edge of darkness - his breakdown on The Used's bus, Bob's time in the hospital [which might be my favorite section - it's hair-rising, so easy to feel what he's picking up], and this line: If they could the fans would eat them alive . Neck-prickling goodness, for sure.
[Actually I love this whole section:They keep on touring, Matt instead of Mikey, and Bob drums, his wrists throbbing with pain. He looks out at the audience, feels their love, their lust, their need. If they could the fans would eat them alive and Bob rides the swell of emotion until he's breathless and spent.
It's almost enough.
You've woven strong action/powerful emotions here - the tension's great, leaves the reader equally breathless.]
This is EXACTLY the sort of ficlet I was hoping for - thank you so much, sweets!
*twirls you*
ETA: I realized that I focused primarily on the hard stuff in my comment earlier, neglecting the thing that I really, really love about this - how Bob's inner strength *is* supported by his band, even though they don't realize how *much* they hold him up. This is all steel and hope, and I love that.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:32 pm (UTC)When I started thinking about special abilities or powers empathy seemed to fit Bob well. It seemed to fit with how he conducted himself, and being able to tie it into him being accident prone was a huge plus. Because when you're surrounded on all sides by others emotions, you would hold onto something that was solidly yours, even if that was pain.
I know down thread Arsenic said Mikey should know, and I'd like that too. Because Bob doesn't have to struggle on alone. I know why he does, because he knows how people are feeling, and that's so intimate that taking that step back is needed. But I think getting close to someone would be a good thing. To just sit and feel and have someone there for him, a knowing anchor against the storm of reality.
Yeah, Bob's band loves him, unconditionally and deeply. Writing that love is always what I like to do the most in stories. So I'm glad it worked for you.
Thank you so much for such an awesome comment, and such a wonderful request.
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Date: 2008-08-05 02:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:25 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2008-08-05 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 03:37 pm (UTC)First there was "Tints of Rainbow Hue", and then the 'Bob in Space' ficlet, and now...this.
It's like everything I've ever thought about Bob, everything I've ever imagined him feeling and hiding behind blue eyes, in no more than 1217 words, while I sit here plotting a long-winded epic for the man who says so little and wonders if there is really anything more that needs to be said.
I love this. Love you. Love Bob.
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Date: 2008-08-08 05:23 pm (UTC)I'm thrilled you enjoyed Tints and Bob in Space too. I'm actually working on finishing the space ficlet now, so I hope you like the finished product.
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Date: 2008-08-05 03:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:20 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for reading and letting me know you enjoyed the story. I appreciate it a lot.
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Date: 2008-08-05 04:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:19 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
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Date: 2008-08-05 04:34 pm (UTC)Plus one more, which Bob can't feel. But he knows that it's there.
It keeps him going. Knowing that as hard as things get, he's never alone."
i'm not crying, but my throat's all chokey. i love it. daisuki. ti amo or whatever.
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Date: 2008-08-08 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 04:56 pm (UTC)Wonderful! I love the whole thing and hte parts you added! Poor Bob, struggling all on his own, but finally realizing he can depend on the love from his band as well.
So much love for this.
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Date: 2008-08-08 05:18 pm (UTC)Bob really is in a hard place for this, but his band love him unconditionally. I think as long as he holds onto that he'll be okay.
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Date: 2008-08-05 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:17 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked. Thank you so much!
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Date: 2008-08-05 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:16 pm (UTC)If you keep reading on my beta filter you'll see that most of my stuff usually gets much longer. I post initial ideas and they'll go. More! It needs more, and I grumble and do so *g*
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Date: 2008-08-05 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-06 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-06 03:37 am (UTC)[I like the way you think!]
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Date: 2008-08-06 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:15 pm (UTC)In fact, I very much approve. Because Bob would sense how Mikey's feeling, how he's trying so hard to hide those feelings and Bob is tired of seeing how tongue tied Mikey is, how he forces himself to look away when all he wants is to be held. So one day Bob would just pull Mikey close, and say, it's okay, I know. And they'd sit close and then Bob would turn and say, I have something to tell you.
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Date: 2008-08-09 02:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-11 10:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-06 05:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-06 06:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:11 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
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Date: 2008-08-08 06:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-08 05:09 pm (UTC)When I was asked for Bob with a special power, empathy seemed to fit him well. So I'm thrilled other people think so too.
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Date: 2008-08-11 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-11 05:10 pm (UTC)Bob is such an amazing guy that I'm thrilled you like the story :)
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Date: 2008-08-17 09:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-17 10:11 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading and commenting ♥
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Date: 2008-08-23 01:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-29 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
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