(Mis)fortune (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter 23

"What do you mean by 'they agree'? I don't think I understand what you're trying to tell me here. Seriously, doc, what's the catch?"

Doctor Toro smiled, lacing the fingers of his hands where they lay on the table in front of him. His day wasn't a bad one to start with. Obviously, when he was greeted with a cup of steaming coffee, it certainly wasn't something to be bummed about. But now that he could make someone else's day better as well, man, that was what Ray loved about his jobthe most. Unfortunately, he didn't usually bring a smile onto a patient's face like he did that day onto Mikey's but times like these were what made him value these moments more.

"I mean, they had read your letter, they discussed it and they all agreed that you've been doing a lot better lately. So as long as you keep taking your pills and coming here regularly for therapy, they'll be glad to let you leave."

Mikey was trying really hard not to show his emotions but inside, he was literally buzzing from excitement. "So, what now? Can I just, y'know, leave?"

"Well, we've already informed your parents about your situation and they said they could pick you up today after work, if that's okay with you." 

Mikey nodded. "Of course but... what do I do now?"

The doctor smiled. "Now? Go and pack your things. You're finally free to go, Mikey, you're free." Mikey couldn't be happier, he grinned and hugged doc Toro, repeating thank you's and then he stormed out of the office, basically flying through the hospital halls. He nearly knocked a few people out on his way, one of them being Frank. Actually, he did run into Frank. By accident, of course. 

"Shit, sorry." He mumbled and continued in his one-man marathon. He got to his room and slammed the door shut. For a while, he was just leaning against a wall, catching his breath and grinning. A couple minutes later, he started packing his things. Surprisingly (or maybe not), he was done pretty quickly and then he just sat on his bed, staring at a wall, thinking of all the things he'll be able to do when he gets out.

But before he did that, he wanted to make sure he would be remembered. He looked through his bag and all he found was a red crayon.

"This'll have to do." He whispered to himself and shuffled from the bed to the door. He kneeled and wrote 'Mikey' next to the frame. He was looking at it for a while, but it didn't seem complete, so he wrote '& Pete' underneath it and smiled.

"Perfect."

*****

It felt like a déjà-vu, stepping inside the house. Except it wasn't. He had lived in that house for fifteen years before the hospital became his temporary home. But despite still recalling all the years he's spent there, it felt strange. It was almost as if he was only visiting a family member for a few hours before he'd leave again. He'd get in the car and drive home in the back seat, next to his brother.

But the reality was very much different. This was his home. His brother didn't live there anymore. Mikey couldn't just walk down the stairs to the basement and expect him to be there, waiting for Mikey with a new X-Men issue, he was gone. And the house didn't feel like home anymore.

The hallway felt so cold and grey he actually shivered and his mom asked what was wrong. Mikey said it was nothing and excused himself to sprint up the stairs into his room. Inside it was still as same as he remembered it, everything was in its place and nothing seemed to be missing. So why did he feel so strange and foreign in his own room? You're not supposed to feel like a stranger in your own house. It was wrong, him being back home, walking the halls as if he hadn't been gone for three years. Running his finger along the dusty shelves, touching the material of his sheets, feeling the carpet against his sock-clad feet.