The Name of the Game

Chapter 23

TW: Blood/Gore; Disturbing Content

Mikey yawned. He closed the comic book and set it down on his bedside table. He was just taking off his glasses when the commotion began.

It started with a series of gunshots, followed by Donald yelling and Donna screaming. Mikey's heart stopped, then he scrambled to action. He jumped up off his bed and took off to his brother's room.

Mikey burst through the door. Gerard was standing at the foot of his bed, gripping his bedposts but staring at the floor. He looked up when he heard his door open. As soon as he met Mikey's wild, terrified eyes, he began pulling at the bed. With almost superhuman strength, he yanked the bed away from the wall, revealing a small, white panel. Mikey had never seen it before.

Gerard quickly worked his fingers under the edges of the panel, then pulled until it popped off of the wall. "Get in," he instructed.

Mikey climbed into the crawlspace. There was barely room for him to breathe. He was already having trouble, he was crying so hard. He didn't know when he had started, but now it wouldn't stop.

"I love you," Gerard whispered.

"I love you, too, Gee," Mikey squeaked.

Gerard put a finger to his lips, then pressed the panel back onto the wall. He had just pushed his bed back into place when his door flew open. There were two men and a woman there, and they looked angry. The woman held a gun, and it was aimed directly between Gerard's eyes.

He put his hands up, and the men grabbed him without hesitation. They threw him to the floor, kicking him until he could barely breathe. The woman joined in, kicking his face so hard he could hear his bones cracking.

A swift kick in the chest caused Gerard to cough. Blood spewed from his mouth.

The woman sent her foot into his eye socket. As his head snapped back, his vision went blurry.

And then there was nothing.

-

Gerard opened his eyes, but all he could see was black. The air around him was cold and smelled of must.

He shifted slightly, trying to get his bearings. He found himself unable to move. There was rough rope over his forearms, and something was keeping his ankles in place as well. He knew better than to scream; he knew what was happening to him. Besides, the dirty sock that had been stuffed in his mouth was stopping any sound from coming out of his mouth.

He groaned a bit and rolled his neck to the other side. His head was pounding. His skin was tight from the blood dried to it. He couldn't move anything on the right side of his face, and his nose was somehow painfully numb. His breathing was shallow; every breath caused his ribs to further collapse into his lungs. A few silent tears fell from his eyes. He didn't see himself living much longer.

Dear God, if you're out there, please keep Mikey safe. I don't know how mom and dad are doing, but if they're still alive, please let them be okay. I know I deserve this, so I'm not asking for forgiveness or for you to spare me or anything. I should have let Frank go before all of this happened, but I was selfish. I broke all the rules. My rules, my family's rules... I really, really fucked up this life. I ended someone else's. He's dead because of me. I should have told him I loved him, but I didn't, and it's too late now. I deserve this. It's only fair.

Gerard was full on sobbing now. He tried to keep as quiet as possible. He was only there for a few minutes before he heard something that sounded like creaking metal. He perked up slightly, tensing.

"Oh, joy, you're awake."

The voice chilled Gerard to the bone. He recognized it, but he had never heard the man sound so cold. Then again, he had only encountered his mob personality once, and the man hadn't spoken then.