For the Monsters that I've Been.

Mikey’s eyes tracked to Frank briefly as he drove. The boy was sleeping in the front passenger seat. He’d tried to clean the blood and tears from his face as best as possible, but that didn’t stop his purple eye and his busted lip from standing out spectacularly. It was hard for Mikey to decide whose fault those wounds were. Sure, Mikey had produced them, but Frank… Frank had caused them. The way he acted when Mikey had come back to get him just before they were about to hit the road; those pathetic pleas that expelled from the boy.

“Mikey, please.” Frank sobbed as he was taken out from his case under the bed that he’d been laid to rest in as Mikey had gone to pack. “I’m sorry… we can’t just-” there was a horrible whimper as Mikey struck the boy. Though it was Frank who caused himself to get hit in the eye by moving.

“Can’t we just what?” Mikey hissed, glancing over to his brother, who lay unconscious on the floor a few feet away. “You lost you all right to even speak to me earlier.”

“We can’t leave Gerard like th-Mikey stop!”

Frank’s hair was grabbed originally, but as the oldest Way was mentioned, Mikey brought his fist across the boy’s face. His lip collided with his teeth; a fresh stream of blood flowed down Frank’s chin, but Mikey couldn’t find a reason to care.

“Don’t you ever,” he growled, striking the boy again, “show concern for that piece of trash. Now get the fuck up. We’re going.”

Frank opened his mouth to retaliate, but seemed to think better of it. He simply nodded and sniffled, gripping onto Mikey tightly, not letting go until he was shoved into the passenger seat.

And things had stayed that way for the most part. There had been the incident at the diner, but that was mostly just to take a breath for a few moments. Then they were back on the road. They drove a few miles before Mikey settled on a motel to check in at. Not a hotel, because they kept too many records, but a dingy motel with basic cable and a bed did just fine. The bed was mostly for Frank, who collapsed in it almost the second that Mikey had approved of the action. The cable was for Mikey, who had only stopped on his keenness to be kept current. There would surely be a news story on the bludgeoning of his brother, even if they were both nobodies. He had to know who the suspects were. What charges were going to be pressed.

However, it appeared to be too early for such a newscast. Mikey sat next to a sleeping Frank on the bed and shuffled through the regular news channels with no luck. The only things on the television were the weather, a talk show, a sitcom and though there was a newscast, it did not mention anything about an attack in Newark, just something about a starlet who was a bridesmaid in her friend’s wedding. Surely nothing important.

Regardless, Mikey set the controller down at this. The newscast would have to do, no matter how little he cared for the information being relayed at the time. It would be the most likely to convey any information that he needed the fastest. It would be his best bet on planning his next move. So he sat there, eyes glazing over the story briefly before his attention was averted by a quiet sort of moan followed by a soft touch on his pants as the hand of the unconscious man next to him gripped lightly on his jeans.

The boy’s eyes cast downward and he couldn’t help but let a small smile pulse momentarily on his lips. Frank was something else. He let Mikey grip him by his hair and scream in his face. He stood and took it as he was punched in the face by a man who was supposed to be, not only his boyfriend, but his lover; that was, not the person with whom he slept with, but the person who he made love with. But that phrase was hokey and overly sentimental, in Mikey’s opinion. When Mikey and Frank had sexual intercourse, they weren’t making love, they were fucking. That was all it was. It wasn’t anything that was remotely special (contrary to what Mikey had previously thought) just animalistic urges that they had satisfied for each other.

No, Frank and Mikey had sat with each other, touching each other, tracing fingers up each other’s chests and talked in quiet whispers to each other. Frank was the first person who had been generally interested in Mikey. He was the first person who Mikey had willingly broken Gerard’s rules for. Besides Gerard, he was the only one that Mikey could have ever said that he would do anything for. These things made Frank the only person who Mikey had ever felt ever really felt equal to. The only person that Mikey had ever felt that he’d actually loved.

And then a few seconds had ruined it all. Again, Mikey wasn’t sure if it was his fault or Frank’s fault. On one hand, Mikey had been the one to go to Gerard’s room. He had been the one to allow his brother to overcome him and the one to cause Frank to have to come and find him. However, Frank was the one stupid enough to come in the first place. Frank was the one who had the idea to humor Gerard and cast insecurity on Mikey. Frank had verbalized his doubt of Mikey’s capabilities to Gerard. And then Frank had cast the final nail in his own coffin: he had let Gerard touch him. He had let Gerard run his fingers through his hair. He had shivered at Gerard’s touch. He had become dirty, horrible, disgusting. At that point, he had become unequal to Mikey. And Mikey supposed that that was why he and Frank’s relationship had taken such a turn. Even so, Mikey couldn’t even say if he still loved Frank or not or if Frank still loved him.

Mikey moved his hand to Frank’s hair, letting his fingers move through the strands for the umpteenth time. However, this time felt like the first of sorts. Normally, Frank’s hair was clean and smooth. This time, it was greasy, dirty, Mikey may have even felt a few chunks of dried blood on the ends of it. He thought back to a few hours previous, remembering Gerard’s hand doing the same thing. It took a lot of willpower not to grip onto it and pull the strands out like his brother had done to him. There was a time for punishing Frank and a time for letting the boy sleep, and now, he had to let the latter happen. For Mikey was unsure when the next time would be for the two of them to rest. So, for the time being, Mikey pushed thoughts of his brother out of his head and let the boy next to him lay his cheek on his thigh as he himself closed his eyes, letting an arm wrap around Frank.

It was unfortunate, Mikey thought as he drifted into an uneasy sleep, that Frank couldn’t have been awake to witness this surely rare moment of kindness.

However, Mikey’s sleep did not last for very long. It may have been an hour or perhaps just a matter of minutes that he had rested, but regardless, Mikey felt a vibration under his hand. His eyes blinked open and he yawned, blinking a bit before he realized where the sensation was coming from: the cellphone in Frank’s pocket.

It may have been the pills from the night before or it may have been his sheer state of exhaustion, but Frank did not wake to the phone. But that was convenient, Mikey figured, because as he expelled the phone from the pocket with the hand that was not around its owner. The name ‘Ray’ on the caller ID registered itself to Mikey who flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear.

“Ray?” he asked quietly, keen to not awaken Frank with the raise of his voice.

“Frank is that-”

“No.” Mikey pulled his arm from around his sleeping companion, and stood, making his way across the room to the door. “It’s Mikey. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Ray asked as Mikey closed the door behind him. “What do you mean what’s up? Where are you, and more importantly, where’s Frank?”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed at Ray’s last sentence. He thoroughly felt that it was none of Ray’s business where Frank was at any time. “Frank and I went out. Why?”

“I just…” Ray was silent for a few moments, then when he spoke, it was with a quizzical sort of voice, “you went missing last-”

“That was nothing. I went for a walk.” Mikey lied.

“Well, while you were gone, Frank and Gerard had a fight. We had to pull Frank off of-”

“I know. They were arguing when I got back. Frank explained everything to me.”

“Well, then, you know what happened to Gerard?”

“What are you talking about? He was going back to bed when we left.” Mikey lied agian.

“He was… god! God damn it, Mikey, so you don’t even know?”

“Clearly, I don’t.”

“I… just… god, I can’t believe I have to be the one to tell you…” He seemed to falter a bit, striking up feeble conversation as a filler. “And are you… are you sure that you’re okay? You seem just… different. Is there anything-”

“I was under the impression that you were going to tell me something about my brother.”

“Well, yeah, I just…”

“Were you going to let me know or am I supposed to guess?”

Ray was silent for a few moments and it was no mystery as to why. Mikey knew full well that he was baffled by the new persona that he was exhibiting, he just didn’t care enough to act as he used to. There was nothing that Ray could do from simple behavioral change of Mikey’s and they both must have known it because the former said nothing further on the subject.

“Well,” Ray said finally, more than a bit of unease in his tone. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but Gerard had an accident. Well… if you could call it an accident. But he’s in the hospital. He was stabbed and they don’t know who by.”

“I see…” Mikey couldn’t help but smirk slightly. That meant Gerard was still alive. That meant that he could kill him all over again. “Which hospital? What’s his status?”

Surely unnerved by Mikey’s cool head at the news of his brother’s injury, Ray paused again, “Where’s Frank?” he asked after a few moments.

“Never mind that,” retorted Mikey, actual anger coursing at his bandmate now, “I want to know about Gerard.”

Luckily, this anger seemed to resonate with Ray as concern that the younger Way for the older. It made Mikey seem as if he were simply upset at the lack of information on his brother’s condition. Mikey could actually hear him ease up. “He’s at the University Hospital. Me and Matt are in the waiting room. They said he’s critical, but they think he’ll be okay. He’s in surgery now. I’m pretty sure they’d let you see him afterward though.”

“That’s… really good,” said Mikey, feigning relief. However, he had to clear one last thing up before he could chance being seen near his brother. “Do they have any idea who did it?”

“Well, I thought maybe Frank…”

“Frank?” Mikey rubbed his temples, leaning against the wall of the motel, his head pulsing in anger. “I told you that Gerard was sleeping when we left. How could it have been him?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? I just assumed since he and Gerard had been fighting…”

“Well, don’t fucking assume. Do you know how this looks? Frank and Gerard argued, Gerard’s stabbed, Frank’s fled the scene. Seriously Ray? You said that to the pol-”

“Fucking cool it, ‘kay, Mikey?” Ray shouted. The boy was so surprised at his bandmate’s anger that his argument did subside briefly, so Ray continued, with an air of annoyance. “I didn’t say Frank’s name to the police. Neither did Matt. We wanted to talk to him before we said anything. That’s why I called. Where are you two anyway?”

“Out.” Mikey replied simply.

“Mikey, seriously.”

It was clear that Ray wasn’t going to let up. Mikey scoffed to give himself ample time to come up with a story, then said in as even a tone as ever: “He’s sleeping. Gerard lent me his keys. Told us to get lost for a day or two. He never said why.”

Mikey’s ploy seemed to have worked because Ray sounded eager when he spoke next. “That sounds shady… wonder if he was expecting something to happen. It would figure: the kinda crowd he’s been hanging with lately… but I guess we won’t know ‘til he wakes up, huh?”

“Guess not.”

“Well, then…” it was clear that Mikey’s apathetic attitude was getting to Ray again, because discomfort was evident in his voice. “I hate to cut whatever you and Frank were doing short, but you are going to come ‘round to see Gerard, right?”

Mikey’s eyes tracked back into door of their motel room. He was not quite sure how he felt bringing Frank back near his brother, but the urge to see his brother again not only to make sure that he didn’t go to the police, but also to just witness the pain that he would surely be in, was too big a temptation to resist. “I’ll come ‘round.” said Mikey, nodding though Ray surely couldn’t see him. “I’ll see you soon.”

And with an exchange of goodbyes, Mikey flipped Frank’s phone closed and pocketed it with no intent on giving it back to its owner then placed a hand on the motel room door, ready to go wake Frank.