Chapter Text
Gerard
My mind went blank as soon as that single word was spoken. Everything felt fuzzy. The buzz of the Great Hall seemed muted, disjointed, as if it were a hundred miles off rather than mere feet in front of me. I felt myself slipping away, the forefront of my mind going hazy, almost as though I had come to exist outside myself: a spectator on the unfortunate life of Gerard Way. God, I wished I was... because this was fucked.
I’d gone my whole life believing there was only one option. You know when something is so set in stone you forget there were even other possibilities in the first place? Only to have reality slap you across the face and send you careening into the unknown? That’s exactly what happened the second the Sorting Hat spoke. I’d been raised constantly hearing:
"Oh Gerard, you’re a natural Slytherin"
"Every great Wizard in the Family was one, no doubt about it young man, you’re definitely a Slytherin!"
"Oh you’re going to do us all so proud in, Slytherin".
Because Ways ended up in Slytherin.
Not fucking Ravenclaw.
To say I was shocked was an understatement.
There must be something wrong here, maybe it’s a joke courtesy of the other Slytherins, some sort of bullshit hazing ritual… Yes, Father always went on about those, I thought. But, as I looked over to that table, packed with the faces I had grown up surrounded by (for better or worse), I saw nothing but a mixture of shock and revulsion. Anyone who met my eyes, looked away.
Worse. Definitely for worse...
Wow. They were taking it too far.
No. No, maybe I just heard him wrong. I’m probably so stressed that I’m imagining things. Fuck, it wouldn’t be the first time. I mean, I’ve got enough anxiety to fuel a muggle senior class for a decade. That would explain why I’m shaking so much. Fuck. I’m going to pass out, I thought.
Stress. My constant emotional companion was grabbing me by the throat.
When no one burst into laughter and the seconds dragged on, I felt a hole beginning to open up in the pit of my stomach. My hands flew to the brim of the Sorting Hat, trembling.
No. There’s no fucking way. Too much has gone wrong already, and now this? THIS IS MY BIRTH RIGHT! I screamed in my head.
I felt my grip tighten further on the hat. That shitty, old, glorified rag probably fucked up, because there was no way I wasn't in Slytherin, I’m a Way for fuck's sake.
So, I said all I could think to say in that moment:
“What the fuck?!”
The hall immediately erupted into shocked gasps, the muttering grew ever louder, and I could feel my skin crawl. My eyes darted around the room only to see a hundred more staring right back at me, each pair quickly darting away when they met mine. Everyone was whispering to their neighbour, the crowds of first years at their respective tables were shifting and murmuring amongst themselves. It was all growing to a swell, a colossal wave of deafening judgement, and it was about to swallow me up and crush me in its depths.
I jumped up off the stool as the hat shifted on my head.
“You heard me boy, you’re of Ravenclaw house.”
“No,” I replied simply.
Another bout of vicious whispers rippled throughout the room.
"Gerard Way? A Ravenclaw?"
"And he has the gaul to talk back to the Sorting Hat?"
"How have they been raising that boy?"
"Are you sure he’s even really aWay?"
God, I could practically hear them all now. My chest felt like it was constricting, as if someone had tied rope around my ribs and every murmur from the hall only served to pull them tighter..
Headmistress McGonagall was rounding on me, with an expression I couldn't quite read on her face. It was sorrowful, almost… pity?
She reached out to grip the Hat but I dodged underneath her outstretched hand, ducking away my hands clammy, but firm on the brim.
Now or never, I have to fix this.
“Stop playing games and put me in Slytherin, you know that’s where I’m meant to be!” I hissed at the hat, eyeing McGonagall’s approach.
The hall had erupted into discord at this point, some people shouting out at me to "Sit down you little prick!" But I didn’t care. They could get fucked, I was fixing this. I had to. Before They could find out. The mere thought sent a shiver up my spine.
“You didn’t even ask nicely; didn’t your parents ever teach you that manners open doors?” The mouldy piece of carpet replied snidely.
I sighed shallowly; I couldn’t believe I was having to beg with this glorified Buzzfeed quiz right now.
I let out an exasperated sigh and dodged McGonagall’s grasp again, ignoring her shout of "Young man, you come back here right now, or I swear to Merlin-" and bolting to the other side of the hall.
The volume of the room had increased dramatically. I was starting to sweat.
I momentarily caught the gaze of a curly haired boy amongst the other first years at the Hufflepuff table. Strangely, his expression wasn’t ouraged or shocked like the others'. It was... sad? Concerned? Like the kid was really empathising with me. Like he... cared? I blinked, and the moment was gone, the fear returning in full force.
I could see Professor Malfoy rising from my end of the table, cold and steely, I had to fight to internalise a shriek. “Fine, can you please put me in the right house?” I beg, in a hurry, the anxiety creeping into my voice as clear as day.
“You can do better than that,” the Hat taunted.
I’m going to set this manky dish rag alight.
“Can you please, please put me in the right house!” I spit through gritted teeth. Malfoy was advancing on me, now, wand in hand What, is he going to stun me or something?, McGonagall was somewhere to my rear. Between them and the looming faces of my peers, I’m surrounded on all sides, my heart was in my throat.
“I already did,” the Hat replied simply, and the motherfucker had the audacity to laugh.
I felt a firm set of hands clamp down on my shoulders. “Now that really is quite enough, Mr. Way!” I heard McGonagall snap at me, her expression severe. I felt the pressure tighten in my chest, unfurling upwards and choking up my throat. I looked desperately around for some sort of help, but all the other pureblood kids, my so-called 'friends', were still eyeing their fingernails with a keen interest.
Just brilliant.
With every chest rattling pound of my heart, I felt reality slipping further away. Life had turned into a horror movie, a comic frame in nauseating technicolor that made me dizzy. I could already feel the tears trickling down my face. The sea of my peers felt larger, somehow, with their judgmental faces looming over me in a social tidal wave of ridicule. The figures of the crowd became increasingly distorted, faces leering out at me unnaturally as everything fuzzed around the edges. Haunting laughter echoed around the hall and grated at my ears. The invisible vines that had slithered up around my throat and chest tightened harder and I felt a shudder wrack my frame.
Oh fuck I can’t breathe. I-I need to get out of here, I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!
In a fit of desperation, I shoved McGonagall’s hands off. I tossed the ragged Hat at her feet, and beelined for the main doors. Once again, I caught the eye of that curly haired kid; he actually made a move to follow me.
He probably pities me too, who the fuck does he think he is?
So, I politely told him to "F-fuck off,".
The silence that fell across the Great Hall was deafening and I find it’s so much worse than the laughter. It’s clinging to me, smothering me, drowning me. And while they glared, no one reached out to stop me as I ran.
My lungs felt as though they were collapsing once I reached the grand doorway out onto the grounds.
I. need. to. breathe.
I slammed them open and sprinted out into the night, the cold, biting, Scottish air nipping at me as it whipped by.
I was suddenly sent flying as I tripped over my own desperate feet, landing, hard, onto all fours. The sting of my hands was enough to send my emotional dam crumbling down right then and there.
With no more strength to hold it in, I just dissolved into sobs: the kind that retch through your entire body, bruising you on the inside, and leaving you sore for days.
My blood was still pumping in what I could only describe as terror. An all encompassing, cold sweat inducing terror.
I didn’t want to go back in there, ever. I didn’t ever want to go back home. I couldn’t face Them now. Everything had been ripped out from under me and I was in a free fall, waiting for the crash.
I-I don’t want to live anymore, I realised as I choked painfully on a sob.
Perhaps...
But before I could ponder that thought any longer, there were hands grasping my shoulders and ushering me, numb and unseeing, back into the Great Hall.