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rpf-bat · 4 years

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For What You’ve Done (They’re Gonna Find A Place For You)

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 9. Prompt: “My Demons.”

You’re in a rehab clinic in Bergen County, New Jersey, trying your best to fight your inner demons, and get sober. One day, a new patient enters the twelve-step program. You’re shocked to discover, that it’s none other than your first celebrity crush.

Trigger warning for several mentions of substance abuse.

You’d been a resident at the inpatient clinic for about two months now. It was the longest stretch of time, that you’d been sober, in years. You weren’t sure yet, if you liked it or not. But, at least the facility, gave you a decent amount of freedom. You were allowed to roam the grounds during the day, as much as you liked - as long as you showed up to all your therapy meetings, when you were supposed to.

You still felt bored. It sucked, not being able to leave the premises, and go anywhere. You decided to relieve your restlessness, by heading out into the garden, for a cigarette.

A lot of the patients smoked. One you got rid of one addiction, sometimes, you just had to replace it with another. You knew, of course, that nicotine was bad for you. But, railing cocaine was significantly worse. You figured the medical staff on site had decided to pick their battles.

“Hey, Y/N,” called a voice from the bench by the roses. “You got a light?”

You turned, and saw it was one of the girls from your therapy group, Lacey.

“Hey,” you greeted her, and handed your lighter to her.

“Thanks,” she grinned, and lit the cig she was holding. “Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” you asked, taking a drag on your own cancer stick.

“A new guy is gonna be joining us in group today,” Lacey explained. “Heard he just got here, last night.”

“Oh, yeah?” you raised an eyebrow, exhaling smoke. The first day, you were more than aware, was often the hardest.

“I think his name’s Michael, or something,” Lacey shrugged. “I got a look at him, when they were escorting him to his room. He’s cute.”

“I didn’t come here, to get a date,” you scoffed.

“Way I heard it, you didn’t come here willingly at all,” Lacey snickered. “Wasn’t your mom gonna kick you out of her house, if you didn’t agree to get treatment?”

“....You know what, I think that’s enough smoking for today,” you snapped, snatching your lighter, back out of her hands.

“Hey!” Lacey protested.

“Whatever.” You stomped out your cigarette butt into the dirt, with perhaps more force than necessary. “I’m going back inside…..”

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Your watch told you it was 3:45. Group therapy wasn't supposed to start until four o’clock. You wandered into the meeting room anyway. You didn’t feel like going back to your room, and you had nothing better to do.

To your surprise, you found a man sitting in one of the chairs, a Dodgers cap pulled down over his eyes.

“Hey,” you called, “what are you doing in here? Taking a nap?”

The guy sat up suddenly, as if dazed.

Oh, shit, you realized. He really was sleeping.

“You must be the new guy,” you laughed. “Hey - it’s okay. I didn’t get much sleep during my first night here, either. The beds here are hard as rocks.”

“They…..they really are,” the man confessed. “Sorry - I didn’t mean to pass out in here. The room was just so quiet and empty, y’know?”

He straightened and took off his hat, revealing his face. You gasped, when you realized you recognized him.

“You’re....you’re Mikey Way,” you bleated. Holy shit.

“....Do I know you?” Mikey asked, rubbing his eyes.

“No,” you shook your head, reddening. “I, uh, I was just a big My Chemical Romance fan, when I was younger. I think your music is amazing.”

“....Oh,” Mikey mumbled. “Sorry….I’m not exactly giving out autographs right now.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for one,” you assured him. “I mean, I always wanted to meet you, but…..not in a place like this.”

Mikey stared at his shoes, looking ashamed of himself.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“....You probably thought of me as like, some cool rock hero,” Mikey mumbled. “Now, as you can see, I’m just some piece of shit junkie.”

“I mean…..so am I?” you pointed out. “That’s why we’re both here.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Mikey frowned. He tugged his sleeves down, clearly trying to hide the tire tracks on his arms. You couldn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt a little, to see him in this state. You’d had a crush on him, since you were fifteen.

“But, you’re trying to get clean,” you said softly. “You’re here, trying to fight your demons, and become a better person. That definitely counts for something, in my book.”

Mikey raised his head, looking at you in surprise. He had such pretty eyes.

“.....Thank you,” he said sincerely. “That means a lot.”

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you smiled, extending your hand.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Mikey smiled back, accepting the handshake.

“Do you mind if I sit here with you, until everyone else gets here?” you asked. You knew Lacey would probably show up soon, but the former emo kid in you, was delighted at the chance to talk to a Way brother one-on-one.

“Sure, pull up a chair,” Mikey shrugged. “I wasn’t doing much, anyway, aside from catching a few Zs.”

“Sorry again, for waking you,” you winced. You didn’t want to make his first day more difficult.

“It’s okay,” Mikey replied. “I was wondering….what do you guys normally talk about, in these therapy groups, anyway?”

“Well, yesterday,” you recalled, “Dr. Armstrong asked us to name a positive coping mechanism, that we could use to deal with our problems, instead of turning to...y’know, substances.”

“What coping mechanism did you come up with?” Mikey asked.

You hesitated, your face going red.

“Sorry,” Mikey frowned. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. I mean, you just met me today.”

“No, it’s okay,” you shrugged. “I already told the whole group, after all.”

“Oh, right,” Mikey chuckled.

“The coping mechanism that I wrote down on my therapy worksheet, was music,” you explained. “When I first got here, I got permission for my mom to bring me some of my old CDs. Dr. Armstrong lets me keep a stereo in my room, as long as I promise not to use it after lights-out. I started listening to albums that I hadn’t heard, since I was a teenager.”

“Since before you started doing….substances?” Mikey guessed.

“Yeah,” you confessed. “Listening to some of these heavy songs, was actually really cathartic. Singing along to the lyrics, helps me get my feelings out, instead of just…..burying them.”

“I’ll be honest,” Mikey sighed. “I use substances to bury my feelings a lot, too. That’s exactly how I got in this mess.”

“I get it,” you nodded. You never thought that your idol would be struggling with all the same stuff that you did. When you’d seen him on the World Contamination Tour, three years ago, he had looked invincible. You realized, darkly, that even then, he could have been shooting up backstage.

“What album have you been listening to the most, since you started getting sober?” Mikey asked curiously. “Like, what’s really therapeutic for you?”

You looked away from him, feeling embarrassed.

“......Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge,” you mumbled.

“Whoa, seriously?” Mikey gaped. “My band’s album?”

“Yeah,” you admitted shyly. “Is that weird? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not weird,” Mikey assured you. “That actually makes me really happy, that something I had a hand in creating, was able to help you so much.”

“Thank you,” you said, somewhat emotionally, “for putting that record into the world.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” Mikey smiled. “It sounds strange, but….I’m kinda glad that I met you here.”

“I’m glad, too,” you agreed. “But….I’m sorry that you’re in this situation.”

“My friend David, kind of tricked me into coming here,” Mikey confessed, scratching his head. “He said he wanted to work on writing music with me, so I flew here, from California. But, when I got here, he was just like, yeah, we’re not making an album, you’re going to rehab.”

“Did that make you mad?” you wondered. “Were you really angry at your friend, for dragging you to New Jersey, under false pretenses?”

“No, I wasn’t mad at all,” Mikey said, surprising you. “Deep down, I knew that what I was doing to myself was wrong. I knew it was gonna get me killed, eventually, if somebody didn’t intervene. So….I just checked myself in, without arguing. I’m actually really grateful to him.”

“Grateful…,” you repeated. “When my mom first checked me into this place, I wasn’t grateful at all. I felt like I was being thrown in jail. I didn’t think I had a problem.”

“But, now you do?” Mikey realized.

“Yeah, therapy helped me realize how much I was using the coke as a crutch,” you admitted. “I just wanted to party all the time, to distract myself. I didn’t want to be sober, ever, because that meant focusing on all the problems I had in life.”

“I’m worried I’m gonna come off like a jackass, in the therapy group,” Mikey frowned. “Like, oh, you’re a millionaire celebrity. You don’t have any real problems in life.”

“Everybody has problems, in one way or another,” you disagreed. “Didn’t your band break up, last year? That must have been hard for you.”

“It was,” Mikey said honestly. “Being My Chem’s bassist, was like my whole identity. I had been doing it for over a decade. So, when my brother decided that the band was over with, it was like, I don’t know. I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“Of course that would be hard to cope with,” you said sympathetically. “Look, your problems might be very different from mine, but, if anyone in group tries to tell you they’re not valid, I’ll set ‘em straight.”

“Thank you,” Mikey smiled softly. “I’m glad that I have at least one friend here.”

Mikey Way called me his friend, you thought, giddily. This was so surreal. If you weren’t nine weeks sober, you would have thought that you were tripping.

“What’s your positive coping mechanism gonna be, though?” you wondered, imagining what Dr. Armstrong would say to him, once the meeting started. “I mean, you can’t use the record you wrote.”

“Mine might be music, too,” Mikey said thoughtfully. “But, not listening to it - I want to get my feelings out, by writing songs.”

“That’s a great idea!” you grinned.

“David and I actually composed a couple really cool demos, before I started to take a turn for the worse,” Mikey explained. “When I get out of here, I want to finish an album with him, for real.”

“What are you going to call the project?” you asked.

“We were thinking of calling the new band, Electric Century,” Mikey smiled.

“That’s a really cool name,” you complimented him. “If you get clean, and are able to go back out into the real world, and make the album a reality….then, I promise, when I get released, the first thing I’ll do, is go buy a copy.”

“You mean it?” Mikey asked, flattered.

“Pinky swear!” you insisted. You held out your hand.

“Ok, it’s a pinky promise,” Mikey laughed. “I’ll stay sober long enough to make the music, if you stay sober, long enough to hear it.”

He reached out, and linked his pinky finger, with yours. You felt a spark, when your fingers touched. You thought that perhaps, you were exactly where you were supposed to be after all.

#mikey way x reader #mikey way imagine #drug addict reader #gothtober #substance abuse tw

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