My Chemical Romance One Shots (complete)

Mikey x Child!Reader - Stay

A/N: This oneshot is a lot different than other ones I have written (sorry I had writer's block), but I figured I should clear some things up before you read it. The reader is pretty young (I imagined about 5 to 6 years old), and the beginning section is all of their thoughts (which is why the sentences are so short and simple). The character suffers from PTSD because the family that they used to live with were abusive. They now live at an adoption center, waiting to be adopted. The person throughout the story who is referred to as 'he' is Mikey. He comes to visit the character nearly every day. 

Sorry for the long A/N, but I hope you enjoy ! : )

TW: Mentions of abuse

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I didn't like people much, but when he came around, he made everything feel better. I felt like he understood me. It was a man who would visit me nearly every day at the adoption center I now lived at. He would talk with me, play games, and always comfort me whenever I was sad or had flashbacks of when I used to live with my old family.

I sat on the bunk bed in my room, waiting for him. I looked at the clock. He should be here by now. I sighed. The anxiety that I suffered from, which was from my PTSD, always made me wonder if one day he would never come back. But he always did, never leaving me alone.

After letting my thoughts run wild for another few minutes, I got up from the bed and made my way across the bedroom. Usually, two people shared a bedroom, but because I suffered from night terrors and hallucinations, I was allowed to be alone. I felt better that way. If it weren't for the man that always came to visit me, I would always feel better alone. But I feel happy with him. He makes me feel things. 

There was a knock on the door, and I rushed over to open it. He showed up, like always. "Y/N," he said quietly, a soft smile on his face. "Do you remember me?"

I nodded. Sometimes I did not remember things. I always remembered him, though. He came into my bedroom, and we both sat on the bed. I crawled up into his lap and he gently stroked my hair. I felt safe in his arms. I felt happy. 

We sat together on the bed for the next few minutes as he continued to lovingly caress my hair. The silence was deafening, although not awkward. It was a resolute silence which allowed us each to think. "Do you want to play a game?" he asked.

I nodded silently. I usually did not talk. Whenever I talked I always felt like they would find me. My therapist said that no one would ever hurt me again, not even them, but I always felt like they were lying. 

"What would you like to play?" he asked, his voice quiet. I pointed silently to the checkers board. He nodded, pulling it off of the shelf and setting it up. We played the game in comfortable silence. We finished, then began another game. We played like this for a while; I didn't realize how long until the sun that had previously been shining light through the tiny window disappeared behind a hill. 

He looked up from the game, also realizing how late it was. We both knew what time it was. I never liked this time. He always left now. 

He began to put the checkers board away, a bitter-sweet smile on his face. Usually, I would feel content with him leaving; I knew that he would come back tomorrow and we could play again. But today was different. Today I couldn't take the feeling of being away for some reason. When he finished putting the game away and turned around he saw my tears. I covered my face. I'm not supposed to cry. Only bad kids cry. At least, that's what my old family said. 

"Baby," he said quietly, coming over to me and wrapping his arms around my frail frame. "You don't have to cry. I'll be back tomorrow and we can play again!"

But I didn't want to see him tomorrow. I wanted him to stay. 

Although I tried to stop, I continued to cry. I felt horrible for crying and selfish for wanting him to stay. I just wanted someone to stay for once. Sometimes, people would visit me here at the adoption center and promise me home and love. They promised to stay.

They were all liars, though. Those visits were only ever sleepovers.

But this man always seemed to understand me. I felt like he actually loved me. For once in my life, someone cared. I so desperately wanted him to stay. 

"Y/N," I heard him say, his voice sounding desperate and distant. "Y/N."

My eyes flew open. I was sitting in a bed, my face and pillowcase soaked. "Y/N, dear," he said wrapping his arms around me. "I'm here. I promise I won't leave you. It was just a dream."

My eyes widened in my confusion. It slowly all came back to me, though; my old, abusive family, the days where he would come to visit me, then the day that he became my dad. 

A smile crept on to my face. I buried my face into his chest and he pulled me closer. 

"I promise I'll stay," he whispered, his voice raspy. "I promise I'll never leave."

W.C: 936 Words