He wasn't sure what to do first, go inside, or call the police. Gerard couldn't possibly imagine what could be waiting for him in his apartment. It was unknown how long his door had been left ajar, so it was unknown what had been done in that frame of time. But Gerard stood still, his breathing starting to catch up with his ever quickening heart rate. Finally deciding that he could handle whatever lied within. For God's sake, he lived in Jersey, break ins were a daily ritual. He waited for his breathing to regulate before he started his countdown...3...2...1... his hand met the doorknob as his foot greeted the bottom of the door, making his entry as silent as possible. Slowly opening the door, Gerard saw nothing, the hallway facing him was dark and vacant, just the way he left it. As he walked in from the foyer, he started to check out the first room. Looking into the open TV room, nothing, as he was turning to leave, something golden shimmered on his left eye. Scanning the room for the annoying light, he noticed a reflection coming off of the desk's lamp.
Stepping closer he noticed where the light was coming from, carefully directing his gaze towards the kitchen on his right, he saw the lonely hanging-by-a-wire light had been turned on. Underneath it shadowed the figure of a guy, no older than himself grasping his hair tightly in his hands, head leaning against the table's edge with an envelope inches away. Except Gerard knew this guy, knew his hair, knew his slim frame, knew the nibbled down fingernails showing under his long-sleeve covered hands, knew that those sleeves were of a borrowed sweater belonging to Gerard. He knew his brother without ever needing a face. "Mikey!" He exclaimed, the recognition making it's way through his body as he now felt safe to approach the before-thought burglar. His steps turned to leaps as he went to hug his brother. As Gerard's arms wrapped around Mikey, he noticed something. Mikey wouldn't let go of his head, if anything grasping his head harder than before, "Mikey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." His voice seemed hoarse as he tried to buck off Gerard's probing hands.
"C'mon, let me see, it has to be bad enough that you break into my apartment this late at night."
"You gave me a key, I'm not breaking in," his voice mumbled. Before he could react, Gerard pulled Mikey's arm away from his face and could see why Mikey said 'No'. His eyes were red-rimmed and stained with tear tracks.
"How long have you been here?" Gerard's voice instantly softened as he raised a thumb to dry his brother's cheek.
"Don't know." Mikey said bluntly as he shrugged off Gerard's now damp hand. After doing a quick sweep of the room, he knew Mikey had been there for awhile. Whatever news this was, it must've been bad, because just by looking around he could see how it affected him. Broken dishes were scattered across the kitchen floor, partially swept up shards were left next to an abandoned dustpan, and now he held his teary-eyed little brother. He almost didn't want to know, but he had to so he would know just how to comfort him.
"Do you want me to ask?" Wordlessly, the youngest grabbed the ripped open envelope and handed it over. While Gerard grabbed it, Mikey wiped away any remnants of his crying into the hem of his sweater. He flipped the package over to reveal a government looking letter, seals and everything, typed and addressed to a Michael J. Way. He had seen letters styled like this before but was praying in that moment to everything possible that it wasn't the same type of letter that dragged away some of his best friends from their families. His hands developed a shake as he pulled, practically ripping, out the paper inside. He didn't have to read it to know what it was. It was a draft notice.
