Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

Alone

Mikey Way was home alone.
He hadn't realized at first. He'd eavesdropped on his parents conversation with Gerard, but had scurried away from the door as his brother had pounded his way to his own bedroom.

Mikey had heard him rummaging through the room and thought perhaps he'd been caught with drugs or something, but the whole family had left after that.
He'd watched as they piled into his fathers car. He'd caught Gerard's eye and received a forced smile before the elder was yelled at to get in the damn car already.

And now he was alone in the stillness of the house with only his thoughts and the tension that still hung in the air for company.

He hated the silence. He padded quietly to the living room and popped a Misfits CD into his father's stereo. He jumped as the speakers kicked in, Gerard must've used it last, and turned it down slightly, letting the guitar licks cleanse the house.

He released a deep breathe he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and spoke to no one in particular, "Much better."

The gangly boy flopped down into an armchair near the speakers with his legs tossed lazily over one of the legs.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he fired off a text to his best friend. He could really use somebody to talk to right now, and Pete was just so good at understanding other people's perspectives.

"I think Gerard's in big trouble. They took him to the hospital."

Pete replied within moments, "Omg dude what happened? Is he hurt? Glad he's back. You want me to come over?"

Mikey thought about the idea for a moment, he did regularly have Pete over in secret while his parents were at work... but no, this was different. He didn't know when they'd be back and it was probably best that they didn't walk in to find a boy they'd never met here when there was so much family drama on the go.

"I wish." Mikey replied, "idk how long they'll be and if they're even gonna bring him home."

He paused for a moment, reminding himself to breathe before sending another text off to Pete, "Im scared Pete. I think he's really depressed and you know how they feel about even the slightest thing being 'off' with us. I think they're gonna pump him full of meds and leave him there."

Mikey's hands shook slightly as the music rocked on in the background.

"They wouldn't do that." Pete tried to console him, "At worst they've got him an appointment with a psychology person and like, maybe that's good for him.
If he's as bad as you say he probably could use somebody to talk to. They don't just commit you for nothing, you gotta be TRYING to kill yourself or other people for that."

Mikey grinned slightly at the thought of Gerard trying to kill anybody. He was scary at times, but he wasn't the violent sort. He'd accidentally sat on a dragonfly as a kid and had cried about it for two days. It was something Mikey loved to tease him about.

HAD loved to tease him about. Mikey corrected himself internally, He barely even looks at me now...

He rolled over in his chair so that his arms and chin rested on one armrest and his lower half stuck uncomfortably off the other.

"You're probably right." He typed, "How's home?"

Pete had a pretty shitty home life too, it had been one of the strongest connectors for the boys in their early days of friendship.

Mikey shifted in his awkward position as he remembered the first time he'd slept over at Pete's house, the two had been around eleven, and for Pete's birthday he was allowed to have two friends over.
They'd had a great time, building a fort out of couch cushions and blankets, constructing a giant Lego castle Pete had got from his Nan, but things had soured when the boys sat down to watch a movie.

Pete's stepfather returned home from work, and his mom had gone to make him supper.

Mikey had yet to lay eyes on the man, but he hated his guts for what he'd overheard.
He was slurring his words as he boomed at Pete's mom for not having his dinner ready. When she tried to quiet him down by saying Petey had friends over he did the opposite, shouting at her that she was keeping secrets, shouldn't he have known, it was his dammed house wasn't it and she was lucky he let her and her ungrateful son stay there.

Pete had looked so sad as he turned the volume up to try and drown them out.

Mikey's parents fought like that all the time, and he'd immediately felt a kinship with Pete because of it. He had no idea though how intense it really was at Pete's house.

He'd tried his best to focus on the movie, to joke with their other friend who seemed genuinely terrified by the shouting, but all three boys fell silent as the hollow, unmistakable sound of someone's head hitting the counter rung out.

It hung in the air, like static before a lightning strike, and Mikey could hear Pete's mum crying quietly in the kitchen as his stepdad raged on.

Pete was shaking, and his voice cracked as he told his friends that they should probably go now.
They'd packed up in silence, listening to the blows coming from the kitchen as he slapped her around.

Eventually they petered off, and the man stormed off to another room.

Their friend had left, he lived within walking distance and had basically run from the house.
He moved soon after, the boys hadn't really spoken to him since.

Mikey had dawdled. He wanted to make sure Pete was okay. And his mom.
He'd packed his sleeping bag slowly, keeping one eye on the kitchen door.

"Is it always like that?" He asked in a whisper.

Pete sunk onto the couch, having dismantled their fort.
"Yeah pretty much. I mean, it's not always that bad. He's not as bad when he's not drunk," Pete was making excuses and Mikey knew he was downplaying things for his benefit. "It's worse when he's drunk.... Like tonight."

Mikey nodded, joining Pete on the couch. "I'm staying." He said firmly, "It's the same at my house." This was half true, Mikey's parents screamed at each other constantly, and they threw plates and things, but he could never imagine his father striking his mother. Not in a million years.

Pete turned to him with a shocked expression, "No! I mean, I don't want you to get involved and we have to be quiet now that he's here and..."

Mikey cut him off, "That's fine. I'm kinda tired anyway." He faked a yawn, "and my Mom's working tonight so nobody's home to get me."

"Oh." Was all Pete said.

His mother came to the door just then, the light from the hall backlit her so Mikey couldn't quite make out her features, but it seemed she was using the doorframe to hold herself up.

"Petey," she called softly, almost in a whisper, "you should head up to your room now."

She wobbled away as though she hadn't even seen Mikey.

Pete helped Mikey gather his things and the two retreated to his bedroom where they spent the night reading comics and talking about other things. School, soccer, girls. Anything but the events of the evening.

The buzz of Mikey's phone brought him back to reality.
Has it really been almost 5 years?

"He's not here yet." Pete had responded to his text, "It was a bad weekend though. Mum's got a black eye and I think my ribs might be bruised."

Mikey winced at that. "You wanna go to the hospital?" He already knew Pete's response though.

"Naw I'll be okay. It's not that bad."

Mikey rose from his chair and stretched, his favourite song was up next and he was gonna dance like no one was watching.

"I fucking hate him. Can't wait til I can get a job and move us out of here." Pete vented to his friend, "You and me and Mom. We'll go somewhere better and we'll never talk to any of these fucking people again."

Mikey smiled wistfully at the tiny screen in his hand. Someday.