For the Monsters that I've Been.

It was close to three in the morning and the Way brothers sat in a car in a hospital parking lot, engine off, but radio playing dimly in the background. They had dropped their Matt and Ray off at the house after news earlier in the night of Frank's stable condition. Gerard would head home as well, after Mikey went in, but the younger Way thought (and the older had agreed) that the tear stains and watery eyes that he could not seem to shake would draw a bit too much attention, so Mikey leaned back in the passenger's seat of his brother's SUV, at least until he could regain control of himself, and passed Gerard a lit cigarette from between his fingers in order to pick a sheet from the pile of gas station napkins (that he'd insisted on getting minutes earlier) to wipe his cheeks for the umpteenth time.

“I don't know what to do, Gerard,” he murmured as fresh tears scaled his cheeks.

“It's not like he won't be okay,” Gerard said consolingly, “you just have to be more careful, Mikes.”

“I'm not going to give them to him anymore.”

Gerard took a drag of their cigarette and ashed before glancing sideways to Mikey. “You will, too,” he said softly.

Mikey shook his head. His face skewed slightly, his eyes stinging in danger of watering again, “I don't want to be like this anymore.”

"Well then,” Gerard sighed coyly, “you could always just stop.”

"Yeah?” Mikey scoffed in slight hysterics, his hand tensing threateningly on the armrest between them, “And how the fuck do I just stop?”

"I don't... I don't know,” Gerard stammered, throwing up his hands defensively. “How should I know?”

"You just stopped,” Mikey snapped back.

"After you nearly killed me.”

"So!?” Mikey couldn't help it: fresh tears burned as they streamed from his eyes. He hated how feminine he felt as he clutched the used napkins in his fist which he waved angrily. “You didn't have to change after that! You could have hated me, or tried to ruin me, or... I don't... I don't even know, but you didn't have to change, you must have done something!”

Gerard took another hit and didn't look to Mikey until he expelled the smoke, and even then he took a few seconds to actually speak. “You wanna know the truth?” And though his brother did not bother to respond, Gerard continued anyway, his eyes still fixed on Mikey, “I'm still a fucking asshole. I didn't change shit, you did. You're not the same anymore. You're not pathetic anymore. You're not the kid that I used to push around. So, yeah, I could have kept fucking with you, but now that you actually lash back, what's the point? The Mikey who let me walk all over him is pretty much dead now and, surprisingly, I'm okay with that. I actually might prefer you this way. But you can't tell me that you actually want to change back.”

"I don't want to,” sniffed Mikey, “not really, but what about Frank? He's... he's lying in there,” he gestured irascibly toward the hospital, “and they say he's fine, but how the fuck do I know? I can't fucking know, because I can't see him and I can't fucking see him because I made him sick because I fucking like making him do shit! And you don't think that's fucked up? Of course you don't! 'Cause if it were a year ago and you landed me in the hospital, you'd just bitch at me for not being able to make it 'til the end of the show before I passed out!”

“You know that's not true, Mikey.”

“How the fuck do I know it's not true!?” Gerard actually shrunk back a bit as Mikey yelled, and it was only because of how frustrated Mikey was that he did not laugh at the irony of the situation.

“I always came back for you,” Gerard said matter-of-factly, “and I always took care of you. Just because I enjoyed dishing out punishment more than I enjoyed being fucking cute doesn't mean that I didn't always care.”

In the back of his mind, Mikey was sure that this was true, but the fact that it was true did not lessen his anger. Not really. In all actuality, it was more the argument than proving that he was right that was giving Mikey the thrill so he continued on, hot-headed and domineering, mainly because he knew that Gerard would take it.

“It's fucked up anyway!” Mikey shouted at his brother, “And I hope you realize that giving a fuck whether the person you hurt lives or dies doesn't make up for being fucking psychotic enough to manipulate them with drugs in the first place. It's still fucking insane. I'm still fucking insane! It's fucked up! And you're telling me that I'm better off this way?”

"Eh, never said it wasn't fucked,” Gerard answered, almost lazily and Mikey was sure that he put on this laid back manner just to spite him, just because there was nothing that Mikey wanted more at that moment than a shouting match, “or that we're not both crazy as shit, but that's not the point, is it?”

"What the fuck is the point then?”

"The point is, that whether or not you like it, you're like this now-”

“Because you fucking made me this way!”

“And,” Gerard continued, not noting that he'd heard his brother except for an increase in volume, “you have what I would have killed for when I was in your position and you want to throw it away because of some stupid-”

"Because it's not fair!” insisted Mikey. “Because it's not right! Because I almost fucking killed-”

"Do you think he honestly cares?”

The words left a ringing sort of silence behind them. Mikey could only sit, dumbfounded and staring at his brother. “What do you mean he doesn't care?”

"Mikey, he. likes. it,” stated Gerard. He spoke with an air of annoyance that Mikey deemed would be more appropriate if he had to describe, to his twenty two year old brother, that one plus one equals two, rather than to describe the current situation. “You liked it, too,” Gerard noted. “You can't tell me that you didn't or that you don't remember.”

Mikey's mind flashed back to times where he felt privileged that Gerard would lie with him after sex, and when he'd told Gerard that he'd been right to use physical punishment to teach him a lesson. He remembered thanking Gerard after he'd been left on the floor of their bathroom all night, choking on his own vomit. And then there were the countless number of occasions that he nuzzled a still stinging cheek into the hand that Gerard had just used to strike him and for all of these occasions, he could never really say that he'd been honestly unhappy. In fact, at the time, he remembered being sure that he couldn't have been happier. Like Gerard had said, he did always come back for him and he did always take care of him, he just had a different way of showing that he cared and after ten years, that was simply understood and Mikey didn't really seem to need words to prove to him that he was loved and provided for when under Gerard's care.

"I almost killed him...” Mikey argued feebly, but he could easily predict his brother's counterargument.

"I almost killed you tons of times throughout the years,” Gerard retaliated. “Did you care?”

Mikey held his middle and forefinger out, and Gerard obediently placed the still lit cigarette between them. He took a long drag, then looked out the window, away from Gerard as he blew out the smoke. “Not really,” Mikey admitted finally. He didn't dare look back to Gerard's face, because there would surely be a pompous smirk on his face. “But that's not the point...”

“Oh,” Gerard simpered, Mikey could see his cross armed reflected in the glass from the windshield, “what the fuck is the point then?”

“Shut up,” snarled Mikey. He took a last puff on the cigarette angrily, then snuffed it out in the car's ashtray. “Regardless,” he sighed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “I can't keep him on these pills. What if it ends up killing him?”

“I keep telling you, just don't give him as many.”

“But he just-”

Gerard waived the interruption away, “Or don't give him any. See if I give a fuck either way. Just don't pussy out on me, Mikes, alright?”

Mikey gave a slight nod and stared into his lap, “I guess.”

“God, can you fucking turn this way?” The words seemed like they had been pent up in Gerard for quite some time, so Mikey obliged, his brow furrowed in confusion as Gerard ripped the balled up napkins from his fist and wetted one slightly with his tongue. “Just stop fucking crying,” Gerard said, rubbing the tear-lines from Mikey's face. “As much as I fucking hate to say it, Frank's going to be fine, okay? So just... it's fine, alright?”

Mikey nodded again, taking in a deep, shaky breath. “I know, I'm being stupid, but I'm worried.”

“He's going to be fine,” Gerard repeated sternly, “And for all you know,” he sounded as if was just barely keeping the anger from his tone, “your dumbass little boyfriend is sitting up in bed, pissing off his doctor by relentlessly asking about you, so just suck it up and get in there, alright? And call me when you need a ride back. I promise I'll actually come on time for you.”

There were a few moments of silence in which Gerard finished cleaning off his brother's face, then his hand pulled back and Mikey smoothed his hand over a no longer sticky cheek. “Okay,” he let out a final steadying breath, then looked to Gerard allowing himself a small smile, “and you shouldn't get used to hearing this, but, thank you” he leaned across the armrest and kissed Gerard for a few seconds, letting his hand rest on the side of his brother's face so that he could feel his jaw move as his lips parted.

"Mmph," Gerard pulled back after a few moments, speaking as though slightly winded, "don't you have to get back inside to Frank?”

"I...” Mikey looked to the back seat for a few moments. It was more than large enough for both he and Gerard to comfortably fit, and he surely wouldn't be able to see Frank until morning. And if he and Gerard were to fuck around, it would really only take an hour at the most... But... Frank... he'd almost killed Frank and Gerard was right, the boy surely wouldn't even care. But this? What Mikey was considering... he would care about this. Mikey was sure that sleeping with Gerard was one of the few things that Frank would care about, and on this night of all nights, it was simply cruel to put the boy through it, even if he didn't know that it was happening. So, mind made up, Mikey nodded, letting his hand fall from Gerard's face. “Yeah,” he conceded, a disappointed sort of grimace on his face, “I really should.”

“I figured as much,” Gerard huffed in what sounded like frustration, but he turned the keys in his car's ignition anyway, hand on the gearshift in anticipation of the change from 'park' to 'drive.' “I guess I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, and with a greater effort than he felt it should have taken, opened his door and stepped out of the car's cab then, with a last wave to Gerard, he closed the door behind him and started walking back to the visitor's entrance, his eyes not quite as dry as he would have hoped.