hehe peteky time

Rehab

A/n based off of David sending Mikey to rehab back in 2014 but Mikey and Pete are married and Pete helps David put Mikey into rehab. This is also kind of a vent for me oof

Let's get into it.
—

pete's pov

My head swirls as I walk into our house, returning home from a long day of practicing with the band again. Mikey is passed out on the couch, drenched with alcohol and what I imagine is a mix of his own spit and vomit. I slowly walk over to him, being carful you not step in any of the liquid on the floor, I raise the back of my hand to his nose to make sure he's still breathing, and when I feel the hot air on the back of my hand, my whole body relaxes. I quickly get to work on throwing the mess away before working on getting Mikey out of his ruined clothes, and up the stairs into our shared bedroom.

While removing his shorts I hear his phone drop onto the floor, I wince at the loud noise, before seeing the screen light up with the name of David Debiak, Mikey's band mate from Electric Century. I place his phone onto the table before hoisting his deadweight off the couch and into my arms. I notice he's gotten lighter just from the dead weight but also I can feel his ribs and bones practically piercing through his skin. The rings around his eyes remind me of the same ones his brother wore around the time I first met them. My stomach twists in guilt and sorrow as I lay his frail body into the bed on his side. I watch, expecting him to move to get comfortable but he continues to lay like a dead body.

I exit the room, walking down the stairs and spotting Mikey's phone, I grab it quickly and open it, unlocking it with his password and calling David. He answers almost instantly-

"Hey Mikey! I thought we could-"

"Not Mikey, it's Pete, I'm sorry," I reply sheepishly, biting on a hangnail that just so happened to appear at this moment.

"Oh, hey Pete, what's up man? Why'd you call?" David asks, I try to sort my thoughts, then I begin to speak.

"Uh, Mikey, he's been using again and I thought that you being one of his closest friends you could help me." I say, feeling very silly that I called, but also hopeful that he would know how to help.

"Yeah I noticed it too, the lyrics he's been writing, the whole break up, I've been looking at facilities in the area but I don't know how to get him back to Jersey," David says quietly.

"Maybe we can, fly out, say you guys need to work on the album? And the next morning we tell him that we're taking him to rehab, I know he doesn't want to be like this Dave, he's told me, he just, he can't beat it by himself anymore," my voice sounds strained before I even notice that I'm crying. I wipe my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Yeah that makes the most sense I think, is he awake right now?" I shake my head before I realize he can't see me-

"I, uh, no he's not, when I came home he was passed out on the couch," I see him lying there as I recall the memory, I shut my eyes once again.

"When he wakes up tell him that I called last night, tell him to call me in the morning and I'll say we're ready to start recording. I think I have a facility that's good and has an open spot, he's gonna get better Pete, he has to," David says confidently. I nod, trying to make my brain be as hopeful as he sounds.

"Thank you Dave, seriously man this means so much to me," I say sincerely. He responds, and says his goodbyes, then the line is cut off. I set his phone back onto the coffee table, before heading back upstairs. I discard all of my clothes from the day, changing into Mikey's favorite Anthrax shirt, then I climb in bed next to him. Mikey, sensing my presence in his slumber, rolls and lazily drapes an arm across my chest, I kiss his knuckles before lacing our hands together.

"I'm gonna get you help baby, you just have to stay alive for a few more weeks, that's all I ask Mikes," I find myself whispering, before drifting off into sleep.

-a week later, David's place in jersey

I fidget with the necklace around my neck while David makes coffee. I know Mikey will be up any minute, he always wakes up to the smell of coffee. I called the rehab facility this morning to make sure they had a spot open for Mikey, now all we had to do was get him there. Soon enough, Dave walks back in with two mugs in his hand, he hands one to me, and I sip on it graciously. A comfortable silence engulfs his living room, until we hear the creak of Mikey getting up and walking to the living room.

He looks zombie like in the way he drags himself lifelessly to the kitchen to the coffee pot. It takes a few minutes before he makes his way into the living room, sitting on the loveseat across from Dave in his chair. He curls around his mug of coffee, protecting it with his whole body. I study his face for what could be the millionth time, his eyes are bloodshot and sunken into his face, surrounded by a dark purple-red color. I notice his glasses are sitting on his face crooked, and covered in dirt and smudges. Without thinking, I pluck them off of his face and start cleaning them on my tee shirt. I place them back on his face, Mikey's lips curl at the sides, the only trace of a smile I've seen for months. He turns to face David.

"So when do we start?"

David sets down his empty cup and sighs, looking at Mikey in a mix of stern and concern.

"You're not here to record, Mikey," David says, I have to hold my breath. Mikey nods slowly, nose ring glinting in the soft light of the room. He doesn't look confused, he looks relieved, drinking the rest of his coffee, and loading into Dave's car in silence, the only noise on the way there was the rock playing through Dave's speakers and the road noise.

My stomach was twisted into nots when we pulled into the parking lot and made our way to the front desk, I held hands with Mikey as David filled out the papers and got Mikey to sign himself in.

"Mikey Way?" A female nurse called from a side door, all three of us stood in unison. Mikey hugs David first, whispering a small "thank you" before pulling away. He turned to me, and wiped the tears from my eyes, letting out a small chuckle.

"I'm not leaving you forever, Pete," Mikey said in a small voice, I nod, smiling goofily.

"I know Mikes, you just scared me for a while, I want you to be okay again," I say sheepishly, he ducks down and pecks my lips before pulling me into a loose hug.

"I'm gonna get better I promise, when I come back I'll be clean and it'll stay that way for the rest of our lives."

I kiss him on the nose, "I love you Mikeyway, I'll see you in a month."

"I'll hold you to it," Mikey says, then makes his way back to the nurse and into the rehab center.