"Thank You For The Venom" (My Chemical Romance FanFic) - Chapter 11

Ok. So, this fanfic is not mine. It's a fic I found a few years ago (like five or four years ago) in Quizilla® -I mean, back when Quizilla was quizilla.com and not .teenick.com-. It was written by user AuroraMist, who took it down, and I don't know why.

She wrote a lot of amazing fan fictions; she's a hell of a writer. But this is definitely my favourite from her, and it is for sure the best My Chemical Romance fan fiction I've ever read. And I've read quite a few. So, I thought I'd share it -again- with the World. Cuz it's awesome, and it deserves to be read.

11

A month later, my parents still hadn't followed up on their ... threat, to visit Frank and I at our 'home'. Their excuse was they had to visit my hypochondriac grandmother, Elle, who had been 'dying' for the past twelve years. Honestly, I didn't mind - it gave us four full weeks to plan the marriage by ourselves without so much intervention - but I could tell Frank was nervous, as it was only a matter of time before they did come, and I was really touched at how determined he was to make a good impression (this time) on Mom and Daddy.

In between trying to arrange caterers, a chapel, dresses, reception hall ( - "When will the service be held?" - "Um, in about a month?" -"WHAT?!") etc, Frank had band commitments and I had work with Lance at the bookstore.

Ick, Lance, who had decided it was time to get help so we had more people working the counter and shelves. 

I had no idea of their names or references but I had been informed yesterday that they were only just out of high school.

'Just out of high school'. That meant they had graduated, right - or was I stuck teaching two dimwits on how to work in our store, today?

And why the hell did I have to do it? Lance is much more patient than me. Knowing me, if they don't do exactly as I say, when I say, I'll probably hit them or something.

God forbid someone impregnates me.

As soon as I saw them, I made up my mind that I didn't like them. They were young; younger than I had expected; and there was a girl and a guy. She didn't look that bad - mousy brown hair, pretty eyes behind thick spectacles, long brown skirt and a frappuccino in her right hand and a magazine in the other - but he was the one who made my mind up on whether I'd like them or not.

"Are you ... Carla?" The guy asked, picking himself up from the ground and looking me over as I came closer.

Un-impressed, I rolled my eyes. "Carrie, actually. And I'm guessing one of you is going to introduce yourself to me in about five seconds or I'll have no idea whether I should let you in, " I gestured to the door, "or not... 5 ... 4 ... 3 -"

"I'm Stevie," the girl said, stepping forward after pushing herself off the wall, which she'd been leaning against, and holding her hand out for me to shake.

"And you are?" I prompted, looking at the male with a raised eyebrow, after nodding at Stevie.

"Brad," He looked at the sheet I had in my hands. "That's what it says our names are, right, so we can come in, right?"

"Oh this? I was just kidding, I had no idea what your names were and this is just my gas bill."

They stared at me, unnervingly emotionless, so I quickly stopped smiling and turned to the door so I could unlock it and let us all in. 

Humorless bastards.

"Wow," Brad said when I had flipped on the light and we were all inside. I beamed proudly as I watched them look around, "It's small."

The smile fell from my face and I snapped, as I walked past them and behind the counter, "Shut up."

"So what are you going to show us, today, exactly?" Stevie asked, pushing up her glasses and staring unblinkingly at me. I had decided I was liking her less and less.

My gaze shifted from Stevie's keen face to Brad's bored expression - would they accept 'I don't know' as an answer?

"Um... how to stock shelves, serve customers and ... set up displays?"

"Why are you asking us, aren't you supposed to know what we're going to do?"

"Shut up Steve."

"Stevie."

"I know. But first: Why are you working here, Brad?"

"Because I've been jobless for two years and everyone said you'd be desperate for workers here, so it'd be easy."

Asshole.

I just kind of grunted, and turned hopefully to Stevie. "How about you?"

"Because I know heaps about books - probably even more than you."

I couldn't decided which fit best - bitch or nerd.

I coughed. "Right. Well, come with me and I'll give you the grand tour."

I showed them around, doing my best to explain everything as best as I could. At the end, Brad asked, in what I think was real surprise, "Is that all?"

I glared at him. "Yes."

"What do you do here all day?"

"Heaps of stuff," I said defiantly.

"Like what?"

"Like-take-out-a-pen-and-start-taking-notes-so-you’re-not-so-nosey."

Brad smirked evilly. "Say that again."

"Take out a pen and start taking notes, you nosey bitch," I said painfully slow, with a new and improved 

ending.

He gave me another surprised look and fumbled for a pen in the backpack I only now realized he'd been wearing the whole time.

Yep, I'm so fucking observant.

Meanwhile, Stevie decided to take it upon herself to defend Brad. "You can't talk to him like that you... you.... mole!"

I merely laughed and began to teach them what they need to know, whether it was getting through to them or not.

"Can we go now?" Stevie demanded, already packed up and ready to leave.

I looked up from the page I was absent mindedly reading whilst trying to figure out which color to have my wedding dress made in - apricot or white? "Have you finished what I told you to do?" I questioned as a response.

She looked back at all the work she and Brad hadn't done and turned back to me, grimacing. "No."

"Well, then, no, you can't leave."

"Why not?" Brad emerged from behind a bookshelf. He had that damned pen in his mouth again - he'd been sucking it all day!

"Because I gave you a job to do, and you haven't done it, so you don't go until you have."

"Why don't you do it, then?" He asked, sucking on the pen which was most likely bigger than his dick.

"Because it wasn't mine to do" I waved them away, "Now go do it before I'm forced to lock you in here, resulting in you both making out with each other, to save yourselves from sex-depraved death."

They stood there, with both their mouths open, just staring at me.

"Shoo!"

They hesitantly moved away, as if they didn't know what my next move would be and were scared, and I felt like performing a small-scale version of my very own celebratory dance, seeing as it seemed they were finally going to get something done.

Imagine me as a mother. Ch'ya, those would be some fucked up kids.

"We're finished," Brad told me an hour later, zipping up his jacket, shrugging on his backpack and walking to the door.

"See ya," Stevie added and they walked out together, without waiting for my reaction.

I watched their backs, as they walked the same way down the sidewalk, in a kind of daze. Had I actually managed to bully them into doing what they had to do? Maybe I had scared them with the idea of a sex-starved death.

When I went to check on how good a job they had done, I felt like ripping my hair out of my head in frustration. Instead I settled for letting out a loud, wail and sinking over-dramatically to my knees - a passing by old lady with a walking frame stopped, peered in through the glass at me and gave me a disapproving look. Well fuck you lady, you don't know me.

Slowly rising to my feet again, my show of hysterics done for the moment, I glanced at the clock again - 8:57 p.m. - before groaning and going over to fix what Brad and Stevie mucked up on.

When I finished, at fifteen minutes to ten, I felt like collapsing right there on the bookstore floor. It had been a long, tiring (murderous-thought-filled) day and their fuck-up of one of the easiest things to do, was the icing on the cake. But instead of being irresponsible and curling up on the zebra-print carpet, at work, I packed up, locked up and darted outside to walk the small distance to the apartments.

Shit, it was raining. I felt like God was pissing down on me and shouting a big 'HAHA!' down, directly in my path. But, no, thinking so would be too conceited. Maybe it was just Winter...

Yeah, that's probably it.

Shoving innocent pedestrians out of the way and 'accidentally' into the downpour in my quest to remain dry, I thankfully arrived at Frank's apartment dry.

Already pissed, and it didn't help that I couldn't let myself in, I took my anger out on the door.

Knocking, with both arms, and then both legs, I clearly agitated more than half of our neighbors, because I could hear them shouting obscenities at me through their closed doors.

When the door swung open, and I was still banging on an empty, and woodless, space, I narrowed my eyes at the opener.

"I need my own key."

"Damn right you do. I think every single person in the whole building wants to now eat you for their breakfast tomorrow morning." Frank pulled me inside with him and closed the door behind me, "Get in here. We'll get you a copy tomorrow - are you working?"

Groaning, I flung myself onto the familiar sunken couch - which I had claimed as my own when I moved in -and squinted at him. "Don't talk about work, please. But, no, I'm not working tomorrow."

"Okay, we'll do that then, and, while we're out, we can go ring-shopping too."

I just moaned and buried my face into a cushion, nodding my approval of his plans, and then withdrawing after nearly suffocating myself in doing so.

Five minutes later, a cup of coffee appeared in front of my face. "You look like you could use it."

When I accepted, with a mewed 'thank you', I felt the couch shift, telling me I had company next to me. "Wanna talk about it?"

I shifted myself into a half-sitting position, my legs draped over his, and sighed. When I had finished recounting the day, I dropped my head onto his shoulder. "And, to top it all off, I think I've got a cold - I feel like shit."

I felt his hand rubbing my back, which I discovered I found comforting. "Aw, I'm sorry, Carrie. Do you wanna go snuggle in bed? Would that make you feel a bit better?"

I smiled, looking up at Frank with total adoration. I love this guy so much; he looks after me so well it's not even funny. "Let me finish my coffee first." I took a gulp of the scalding hot liquid to finish it quicker then asked him, "So, how was your day?"

Stroking my hair, and looking out of the window where outside it was still drizzling, he rolled his at the moment very-green eyes. "Crazy. Bert's in town and, I swear, Gerard acted so hyper just being around him, you'd think he'd had the annual intake of sugar for all of Switzerland."

I chuckled. "I can imagine. They can never be apart for too long, can they?"

"Their worlds would fall apart if they were. You almost finished?"

I downed the last bit, carefully placed the cup down on the floor, then tucking it away out of harm's (Mickey's Way), and looked at Frank. "Yep. If I thought you were strong enough I'd make you carry me, but I don't think you are, so I'll ... hell, I'll crawl, or something."

Laughing, he got down on all fours. "I'll crawl with you."

Getting to my feet and stretching a bit, I prodded him with my toe. "You dork, get up. I didn't actually mean I'd crawl."

Somehow, amidst the giggling and stumbling you'd expect from two especially drunken sailors, we made it into, what was now, our bed and talked about nearly everything and anything until two o'clock in the morning.

I fell asleep with a smile on my face, as corny as that may sound, something I hadn't expected so soon after the day I'd just experienced. Maybe getting married to Frank Iero was a good idea.

Even if it just was make-believe - on our parts.

xo-

~ My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. ~