Disenchanted (Frerard + Petekey)

I Lied

Mikey was shoved roughly into the wooden chair as the principal barked at him, "Stay here!" before turning on his heels and marching out of the room.

He could hear Alicia crying distantly, her sniffles mixing with the hushed tones of the secretary who was trying to calm her down and assess her injuries.
Mikey knew exactly what was happening out there, he'd been on the losing side of enough fights in his life to know the routine. They'd call her mom and explain the situation, the secretary would try her best to make distracting small talk and hand her a sandwich bag full of ice to keep on her head. He remembered getting real ice packs in elementary, but it seemed there were always too many fights and injuries in middle school so they'd resorted to shoving ice cubes in plastic bags. On one occasion he'd actually been given a random container full of something brown and frozen to hold on his head. He was pretty sure it was someone's lunch and had done his best not to bleed on it.

He'd never been on this side of things before, sat uncomfortably in the principal's tiny closet of an office with his hands shoved between his thighs to stop them shaking as he listened to the indiscernible conversations behind him. The catch in Alicia's voice seemed to be happening less frequently, and the secretary adapted a happier tone as the monotonous drone of the morning announcements obscured any chance he had at eavesdropping.

"Good morning students! Today is Wednesday April—"

Fuck what am I gonna do?! I hit a girl!
And not just any girl, I hit the one girl who maybe kinda liked me!!

He stared unblinking at his scuffed sneakers. Though he was tall, something about this chair and the way his heels didn't quite touch the floor made him feel five years old again. Like a tiny child about to be scolded for misbehaving.

There's no way in hell she likes me now... Fuck that is not the problem right now Mikey! Get a fucking grip.
They're gonna call Dad!

He bit his lip to keep it from quivering, the sharp pain bringing him back to reality for a moment. He'd started bouncing his leg at some point and was surprised by the speed of it. He was even more surprised to find he couldn't seem to stop it.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck!
They're gonna call Dad...
And he's at work...
Fuck he's gonna be so pissed...

The last time he'd been in serious trouble with his dad he'd been about ten. He'd been playing soccer with Gerard in the backyard, back when his brother still spoke to him. Mikey had made the school team for the first time ever and wanted to practice. He knew now that everyone makes the team in elementary, but at the time he thought he was special for it.

He remembered having to basically drag Gerard outside, only getting him to agree to help as long as he could be goalie so he didn't have to run. They didn't have a net so they'd designated the side of the house as the goal, it had been Mikey's idea. Gerard had wanted to set up the other way, avoiding the house but meaning they'd spend more time searching the woods for the ball.

It had been a stupid plan.

They'd played for maybe twenty minutes, Mikey taking shots on goal as Gerard half-assed trying to stop them. He was getting mad at his brother for not taking his training seriously and decided to fire the ball at his head. He couldn't remember exactly what he hoped it would accomplish, he just knew he was mad, and dumb, and ten.

It was a bad idea.

He'd put all the power he had into that kick, and missed. The ball sailed over Gerard's head, and though it made him realize Mikey had aimed for him and maybe he should take the kid a little more seriously, it had also sailed straight through the bathroom window.