Lost

Chapter 9

Mikey felt frozen as he stared at his curly haired friend.

"How did you get away from the cops?" he demanded.

"Never mind that, we need to talk!"

"I do mind that! You lied to me about Gerard!"

Ray winced. "Mikey..."

"Who is it?" Frank yelled from somewhere else in the house.

"Ray!" Mikey called back. Frank was beside him immediately, scowling at the older man.

"Why are you here? I should be calling the police."

"I know, I know, but hear me out!" Ray sighed. "I only came because I heard from Gerard and they weren't letting me see you."

"So you broke out?"

"Uh... yeah." He looked ashamed. "It wasn't hard. I just straightened my hair and they had no idea who I was."

"Ray! You can't just escape from wherever they were holding you!"

"I needed to give you Gerard's message!"

"What was it?" Frank snapped.

"He said he's coming back soon. Two months maybe?"

"And why couldn't he just tell us himself?"

Ray shrugged. "No idea."

"Why do you get all the messages from him?" Frank muttered. Mikey glanced at him, sighing.

"Well, I'd better get back to prison. Goodbye." Ray turned to go.

"Wait!" Mikey cringed at how desperate he sounded. Ray blinked at him. "Did... did he say anything else?"

"He said to tell Frank that he has a nice ass. That was it."

Again, Mikey felt that great sense of betrayal from his brother. He dropped his head.

"Oh. Okay."

"Sorry, Mikes." Ray began walking away, and this time, Mikey didn't stop him. He hated how red Frank had gone. Why could Gerard make him blush? Why did Gerard always get everything? Frank closed the door and looked over at him.

"Mikey?" he asked cautiously. Mikey took a step back when he moved towards him. "Mikey..."

"I have to go," the taller male rasped.

"Mi–"

Mikey turned and ran away into the closest room that had a lock – the bathroom. Awkward, but he didn't care anymore. He curled up against the door and let the sobs wrack his body. There was something in his chest, something dark and painful. He wasn't worried about having another heart attack, though. This was nothing like that. This felt much worse.

He could tell that Frank was standing outside the door. Every now and then, there would be a tentative knock and he'd say his name. But Mikey refused to answer. He couldn't.

The dark thing in his chest was forcing its way up his throat. Suddenly alarmed, he lurched over to the toilet and lifted the lid, throwing up into it.

Frank paused, and then began knocking a lot harder.

"Mikey, open the fucking door!"

Mikey could only let out a groan in reply. He slid onto the floor and leaned his back against the cold, tiled wall. Fuck, he thought. There was a jangling sound from Frank's side and the lock slowly flipped open. It creaked as it moved, showing Frank with a set of keys in his pocket. Evidently he had picked the lock.

"Oh, Mikey..." Frank took in his pathetic appearance, concern in those hazel eyes. "God, it stinks in here. Right, you're taking a shower and then we're going to talk."

Mikey blinked nervously, but he staggered to his feet and made his way out of the downstairs bathroom. He absent-mindedly grabbed some of his clothes and went to the upstairs bathroom, which had a shower in it.

He stayed in the shower for forty minutes, thinking instead of cleaning himself. Frank knocked on the door a few times to make sure he was still alive, but other than that he left him alone.

Mikey eventually turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around his waist. Frank was knocking again.

"You okay?" he called.

"Not dead," Mikey replied.

"Okay. You almost done?"

"Yeah." Mikey sighed and pulled some clothes on. His hair was plastered to his scalp, but he felt too tired to towel it. All of a sudden, he felt drained again. This weariness overtook him and made him too tired to do anything.

Sighing, he walked out of the bathroom and saw Frank waiting for him.

"Have you been out here the whole time?"

"Yep." Frank's gaze slid down to Mikey's chest, and he realized it wasn't completely covered by his shirt.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and lifted it up, mortified.

"Well... anyway..." Frank kept staring at his chest. "We should talk."

"Probably," Mikey mumbled.

Frank managed to tear his gaze away, and headed downstairs. Mikey followed him, assuming that was what he wanted.

Frank told him to wait in the lounge whilst he made some more coffee. By now, it had become a comfort thing for Mikey.

Not everything was gone.

He still had his drink.

He curled up on the sofa, listening to the sound of Frank moving around in the kitchen. He couldn't believe he'd thrown up.

What kind of person threw up because they were stressed?

Mikey scowled, but soon smiled when Frank came in with the promised coffee.

The shorter man sat down next to him, looking slightly awkward. Mikey shuffled around into a sitting position so that he wasn't taking up half the sofa.

"So," Frank began awkwardly. "I feel like you're pissed off with me."

Mikey stared at him. "What? No, I'm not."

"Well every time someone mentions me and Gerard fucking or flirting, you have a breakdown."

"It, um, it wasn't you I was pissed at..."

"Oh." Mikey could almost see Frank's brain working. The shorter man's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, shit."

Mikey shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry..."

"No, no, don't apologize, but..." Frank took a deep breath. "Jesus."

Mikey felt mortified. He didn't want Frank to know that he liked him.

"It's okay, Mikey," Frank said earnestly. "I don't mind."

"Y-you don't?" Mikey sniffed. Great, now he was crying.

"Of course not. I'm sorry I fucked your brother. I had no idea..."

"It's okay, I guess..." Mikey rubbed his eyes furiously, embarrassed about crying in front of Frank of all people. "I just... I'm more emotionally unbalanced than usual, I think."

"Then it's my job as your crush to try healing you, only succeeding in emotionally frustrating you more!" Frank gave him a wide smile, but then it dimmed to a more serious look. "But trust me, it'll be okay. Everything will work itself out. And you have two months to get over me."

"Okay," Mikey mumbled. Frank stood up and patted his head.

"Come on, let's go get some food. I could eat the whole of Jersey at this rate."

"Please don't."

"No promises." Frank smirked, and Mikey felt himself relaxing.

Everything would be okay as long as Frank was there.