Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

Sophomore Slump or Comeback Of The Year

Mikey had been home from school for three days.

He didn't even think to ask permission for the first two days, his mother had simply just let him sleep. When he and Pete had eventually emerged from the room they now shared, at an hour of the afternoon his father would've surely berated him for, there was a little note scrawled on an old envelope waiting for him by the kettle, reminding him to eat breakfast.
The boys had been up most of the night. Pete slept fitfully, and every time he woke up from a nightmare, or shook with sobs Mikey would wake up too. He'd given up on trying to make him feel better, opting just to sit with him and reassure him he was safe now. Sometimes Pete would talk to him, sharing fond memories of his mom, most of the time they just sat in silence, each lost in their own world and trying to find a way out for the other's sake.
Mikey was exhausted, sure, but he couldn't imagine how worn out Pete must be. He was grateful his mother had let them skip school.

On the second day he'd woken up to the distant sound of his father's alarm and laid in bed listening to the faint thumping his footsteps made as he rummaged through the house getting ready for work.
The sun was just beginning to peak over the tree-line, sending a thin stream of sunlight through the cracks in the blinds. He watched as it crept across the foot of the bed, waiting to see if Pete would stir beside him when the light eventually reached his sleeping face. He never found out, having fallen back to sleep before it crossed his elbows.

On the third day he was awoken in a much rougher manner.

"Michael you get your ass out of that bed or so help me..!" His mother boomed from the doorway as something soft bounced off his head.

With a groan he rolled to face her, cracking one eye open as his brain struggled to process what was happening.

"Wuz goin' on?" He mumbled thickly. With a click the overhead light snapped to life, making him wince and earning a muffled groan from Pete.

"This is the fourth time I've woken you up today and I am NOT coming back in here again!" His mother launched another soft object in his direction, this one landed harmlessly at the foot of the bed.

Socks?
What the hell Mom?
Is she really throwing balled up socks at me?

He managed to focus his bleary eyes on his mother's face. Her eyebrows were furrowed sternly, but there was a smile hiding in the corner of her mouth. He relaxed slightly, she wasn't actually mad yet, just playing with him.

"Ugh!" Mikey groaned, lobbing one of the sock-balls back toward the door, "I don't wanna go to school! It's not important, I'm not missing anything."

The ball didn't even make it halfway across the room. Pete, who had buried his head under the covers when the lights flicked on, cackled quietly at the failed sports attempt.

"You've missed enough time as it is." Donna's tone had changed, and the smile had slipped away. Her voice was softer, sadder, and Mikey felt the covers rustle around him as Pete emerged slowly, his eyes downcast.

"Sorry." A small voice whispered behind him.

"It's not your fault." Mikey responded instinctively, glancing back at Pete before returning to converse with his mother. "You can't make him go back. Not yet..."

"I'm not making Pete go back, I'm making you go back."

"But I can't leave-"