You said you never wanna be saved. Well, that's okay, because I really wouldn't know how. Just know that the best that I'll ever be is whatever you make me.
Mikey was silent. His eyes watched me as I waited for a reaction. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, he opened his mouth to speak, but no noise came out. My eyes, although they were bloodshot and red, still shed fresh tears that only blurred my vision more and replaced the ones staining my cheeks.
“You were- Frank, I- who? I mean- shit-,” Mikey stumbled over his words, his voice coming out strained and weak. I didn’t speak. My breathing was irregular, breaths coming out in gasps. I put my head back into my hands and slowly tried to count to ten. "Who- who did that to you? Frank?” Mikey asked softly, but trying to sound slightly more pulled-together. I jumped and looked up; meeting his watery eyes with my own, and I could feel myself becoming light headed.
I opened my mouth a few times, trying to almost force myself to vocalise the words, but gave up with a sob-filled sigh. I threw my head back against the wall, wiping my face with the backs of my hands and shook my head.
“Hey, hey, it’s fine, you don't have to say it,” Mikey tried, his arm going around me to stop me hurting my head on the wall, but this time I found myself gripping onto him as though my life depended on it. I buried my face into his shirt and the lump in my throat became bigger, almost choking me. “Do you want to go home?” He offered, shoving the paper into his pocket, and I nodded furiously, reluctantly letting go of him to stand.
Before Mikey had the chance to lead me inside the school building though, I reached out to grab his wrist and whispered a ‘thank you.’ He smiled, barely, and shrugged. “Come on, I'll take you to my house.”
In all honesty, I was thankful that Mikey had taken me back his house. My mom was working that day, and I knew that it wasn't a good idea for me to be alone at that point in time. Donna, Mikey’s mom, had always been like a second mom to me, and there was never a time that she wasn't happy to see me. Their home was just as much my home in their opinion.
When Mikey steered me up the Way’s driveway and through the front door, I didn't hesitate to make my way straight up the staircase and into Mikey’s bedroom at the back of the house, leaving the door open for him to follow suit. I kicked my converse off, not paying any attention to where they landed, and sat, cross-legged on Mikey’s bed. I felt the mattress shift underneath me when he perched himself on the end of the bed. I stared blankly ahead at the wall in front of me while I heard Mikey empty his pockets onto his bedside table.
A few moments of silence passed and I heard Mikey sigh, dropping his hands into his lap as he looked up at me. “Frank…” he breathed softly, his voice almost evasive. “Do I know them? I mean the person who did that to you. Was it somebody I-…?”
I turned my attention to Mikey then, cutting him off with my expression, but I was unsure of what to say. My mind raced for some sort of response, but the only thing I could muster up was a slight nod, and then a frown when his face turned from urgent to disgust and repulse. “Y-yeah,” I managed to croak.
“Shit,” he muttered to himself. “What- who the fuck is this vile person?” I could see the anger building up inside of him but somehow, unknown to me; he managed to keep it under control.
If I was being honest, a part of me thought that Mikey already knew enough, and I really didn't want to tell him. Yet, the other part needed to say it. I had to get it off my chest, and no matter how many times I’d repeated it to investigators and doctors and police officers, telling Mikey seemed to have some sort of appeal to me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, shifting on the bed so that I was facing him only barely, and bowed my head to look at my lap. Eventually, I managed to summon the strength to say the words that I had needed to say for so long. “It was my step-father.”
As if they couldn't get any wider, Mikey’s eyes seemed to bulge, his mouth dropping open. He tried to speak, but nothing but gasps and stutters could form. While only God knows what was going through Mikey’s mind right then, I felt something considerably huge lift from my shoulders, and fuck, it felt good to have said it. I nodded my head, swallowing once more before jumping and the noise of Mikey’s bedroom door suddenly swinging open and bashing harshly off the wall. Mikey gasped, leaping up off the bed and rushing over to the person in the doorway.
From where I was sitting, all I could see was the back of Mikey’s head as a pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him in for a hug. I heard Mikey squeal, gasping as the air was squeezed out of him and I heard the faint yell of “hey, g-string!”
The other person laughed, the noise reasonably high and dorky, and a small smile began to form on my lips when he replied with, “fuck, I missed you so much, M-Doug.”
I scrunched my nose up in a grin and shifted on the bed, watching as the two pulled away from each other and Mikey tugged him further into the room by the sleeves of his faded-black denim jacket. “You remember Frank, right Gerard?” Mikey smirked, and I looked up at the older man as a pair of beautiful, deep brown eyes searched mine, and the edges of his lips tugged upwards into a curious smile. He tilted his head as I watched him, mesmerised by the way his raven-black hair fell only slightly over his eyes and framed his face perfectly.
I found myself staring as he spoke, his cheekbones narrow and complimenting his deathly pale face with so much contradiction that I didn't think it was possible. “Yeah,” he smiled, and I quickly regained my thoughts and smiled back at him. “How've you been?”
It took me a few minutes to actually realise that Gerard had asked me a question, and he was in fact waiting for a reply. “I- I’m sorry, what?” I had to ask, because I hadn't heard a word that he said. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks when he chuckled, and it was then that I noticed the smug little expression that Mikey had on his face as he stood opposite me.
A few seconds of confusion passed between Mikey and I, until the silence was interrupted by a very motherly voice calling up the stairs. “Gee-bear, will you come downstairs and let me greet you like a proper mother?!” Donna yelled, sounding extremely defiant considering the way she almost sang Gerard’s nickname. What was with this family and giving Gerard nicknames? He turned, scowling in the direction of downstairs.
“I guess you'd better go see what she wants,” Mikey snorted, nudging his older brother in the side. “She probably wants to smother you and shove about a million different deserts down your throat.”
“As long as I'm getting decent food in my body I couldn't care less where she shoves it,” he chuckled, slipping his jacket off and throwing it over the back of a chair. “Plane food is yuck as fuck!” He quickly began to exit the room, but stopped, hesitating when Donna called back up the stairs.
“Gerard Arthur Way, you better watch your language, young man!” She threatened, and Gerard scratched the back of his head.
“I’m twenty-one, mom,” he objected, although the words came out slightly whine-y. Mikey and I exchanged glances that let me know we both were thinking the same thing. That’s debatable…
“Man, I've missed you guys so much,” Gerard muttered as he disappeared from the doorway and made his way downstairs to face the wrath of Mother Donna Way.
“I guess I better go down, too,” Mikey sighed, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. “Are you coming?”
I shook my head, allowing a small yawn to escape my lips as I lay back on his bed. “Nah, I think I'm gonna get some sleep if that’s okay?” Mikey nodded, smiling at me one last time before he flicked the light out, leaving me alone and closing the door behind him.
