Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

Famous Last Words

Mikey lay awake waiting for morning. Waiting to go see Pete. To make sure he was okay, that he'd survived the night.

He'd managed to convince Pete to stay over for 2 nights in a row, and he would be coming back Friday night to stay the weekend, but he insisted he had to go home today, and Mikey was terrified.

He knew Pete had been living this way for years, to him it was regular, but Mikey also knew Pete standing up for his mom put him at greater risk.

He was so conflicted. He lay awake all night staring at the ceiling, arguing with himself in his head about whether or not he should tell someone.

On the one hand, if I say something Pete and his mom will get away from him. He'll go to jail where he belongs and they'll be free to live their lives.

But it could go bad too... he could get to them and really hurt them..... or kill them....

And Pete made me promise I'd never tell... he'd hate me forever!

Somehow the thought of Pete hating him bothered him more than the idea he might be murdered by his step-father.

The sound of the front door creaking open caught his attention and he checked his phone.

3:30am,... mom's home.

His mom was a nurse, and worked 12-hour shifts, usually at night. She had enough seniority she could do days if she wanted, but she was wired like Gerard and seemed to operate best at night.

Mikey felt his feet hit the floor, and though he was still undecided about whether or not to say anything, he found himself retracing a path he'd walked many nights as a young kid.

He trailed his hand along the familiar wall of his house, letting it take him to the kitchen. He peered around the corner cautiously at his mother. She was still in her scrubs and was emptying her lunch bag in the dimly lit kitchen.

"...Mom?" Oh god, no I don't wanna tell her! Go back to bed!

She straightened up, seeing Mikey standing anxiously in the doorway, his hair a mess, bags under his eyes, barefoot in his boxers and one of Gerard's old t-shirts. He didn't even have his glasses on.

"What's up babe?" She asked, leading the two of them over to the kitchen/junk table.

"I- I gotta tell you something but you have to keep it a secret."

Why are you doing this? STOP TALKING!!

"My friend needs help and... I dunno how to help and... you gotta promise okay?"

Oh my god no. At least don't tell her who it is!
I'm not an idiot, of course not.

"Sure honey, it can stay a secret. Why don't you tell me what's going on..." She leaned her head on her hand and gazed sleepily at her younger son, breaking him out of his argument with himself.

Mikey exhaled tensely, "Okay so, my friend, they're parents beat them. Like real bad, not like spank them like you did us, like, really mess them up."

Mrs. Way was immediately alert, leaning in to the story.

"-and it didn't used to be so bad, like their dad hits their mom, and that's just the way it's always been and as long as they didn't get in the way it was fine but like, now they're getting in the middle and- and- Mom he gave him a black eye and might've cracked his ribs and I can't tell anybody because they'll kill him and I can't do that!"
Mikey had elapsed into full hysterics at this point, the words spilling out in waves amidst his tears.
"I- I just don't know what to do because I don't want him to hate me cause I told but I just- I'm just too fucking little to do anything and I fucking hate it!" He slammed his fist angrily onto the table before following suit with his face, burying his tears and anger in his arms as he slumped over.