For the Monsters that I've Been.

Not only was the sun up when Mikey arrived at the hospital, it was at full peak in the sky. He turned the key in the ignition toward him and killed the engine. His eyes moved from the sign the label on the building that said ‘Trauma Center’ to the passenger’s seat where Frank sat, head slumped to the side, his face turned toward the passenger’s window, sleeping again. Mikey supposed that he was enervated because the previous night was the first time that he had been forced to take the little blue pills of Gerard's. Mikey figured that he had probably been the same his first time, but his first time had been so long ago. He couldn’t really place the date in his head, but he did know, quite well, the difficulty of waking up from the sleep that the pills induced.

Either way, it was good for Frank to sleep, Mikey decided. He had been through a lot. And, though before he could easily chalk happenings to Frank, this time, Mikey felt a twinge of guilt as he watched the boy sleep. He was the one who had put Frank through so much, this time.

There was no reason that Mikey could think of for hitting Frank. After all, he had asked Frank to shut up and take whatever he was told to. He had taken Frank’s cellphone to limit his voice. Before that, he had deemed Frank thoroughly unequal to himself. Then, he had beaten him into a state of terror. Mikey had brought his fist into Franks face while the latter writhed underneath him screaming and Mikey could not explain to himself why he had done this. He had gotten what he had wanted. Frank did what he had asked, but he still felt the need to teach him a lesson- but what lesson had he taught him? Simply not to talk at all?

Maybe, Mikey reasoned, that was what he really had wanted all along. Maybe he had just wanted Frank to sit there and look pretty, like Gerard had once asked Mikey to do. Maybe what he wanted was to be Gerard and for Frank to take the vacant spot that Mikey left. Maybe Mikey wanted a toy; a doll. And maybe he wanted to be the puppet master and maybe he wanted Frank to be the puppet. Maybe he was effectively sewing Frank’s mouth closed with his unfounded punishment.

But that didn’t make sense either, he reminded himself, Frank had already stopped arguing. Frank was not fighting for power, he was sitting there, looking pretty, and Mikey had added more contusions to the already bruised face of the boy. And it was wrong. What he had done was not a punishment, it was brutality for the sake of being brutal, and it was unfair, Mikey admitted, it was unfair to give a set of rules and then not follow the enforcement of them himself. He was in danger of becoming like Gerard. But it was good that he had caught himself so early, at least, because he wouldn’t let it happen again. And he would do something to make up for it, Mikey decided, but what, he didn’t know. All he knew now was that he would have to start thinking quickly about the reason that his companion’s face was lesioned to explain his state adequately when they got into the hospital.

Though part of him wanted to leave the boy in the car to sleep it off, he was also very aware that Frank had to be present in the hospital when Gerard woke up. The three of them would have to get the story straight, even if the conversation consisted of Mikey threatening his brother into compliance. Frank had already shown his obedience, and Mikey did not seem to worry as much about his agreement to the plan. He had an idea that Frank would go along with whatever he had to say. But his presence was still needed for the conversation with Gerard, so Mikey lifted his own hand, muttering a soft, “Hey” as he brushed Frank’s hair back softly from his face.

This motion caused Frank to stir into consciousness and to blink toward the driver’s seat, causing Mikey’s stomach to drop slightly. He could clearly see the brilliantly purple skin under one of Frank’s tired eyes and, now, the same coloring was starting to form on his cheek where tooth and skin had collided. His lips were not only swollen, but had cracks of blood around the outer edges.

However, upon seeing Mikey in the driver’s seat, those lips pulled into a small smile as Frank blinked the sleep out of his eyes and straightened himself. “Hey,” Frank repeated, now yawning and stretching.

“Good to see you’re up,” Mikey forced a smile of reciprocation and slipped an arm around Frank, who simply beamed, clearly appreciative of the change in treatment that he was receiving. “How’re you feeling?” he asked, as if Frank’s ailment was one that was internal rather than external abrasions.

Frank simply shook his head, smiling and leaning into Mikey’s side. “I’m fine,” he shrugged. He too acted as if nothing had happened.

Mikey sighed, pressing his lips to Frank’s forehead in a state of contrition. “You sure?”

“I’m good,” Frank nodded earnestly, “really good.” He looked cautiously up at Mikey, who gave a look of affirmation, then he slowly moved an arm around Mikey’s waist and adjusted his head on Mikey’s shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. Neither said anything for a while but after a few moments of this, Frank looked up to Mikey again. He opened his mouth slowly before he spoke. “Mikey?” he asked quietly.

“Hm?”

With this casual go-ahead, Frank swallowed, letting out another deep breath before he opened his mouth again. “I still love you, Mikey.”

A smile flitted across the lips of the man in the driver’s seat and he nodded, pressing his lips to the shorter man’s hair. “You’re too much, Frank.”

Mikey felt Frank’s hand tighten on his waist, he felt Frank’s lips against this chest, he felt Frank’s hair on his chin as the boy lifted his head. “You still love me, too, right, Mikey?”

“You already kno-”

“Mikey, please.”

Mikey’s chest tensed as he was interrupted, but he withheld himself from striking Frank. This would make it even. Keeping himself from striking on an occasion that called for it would make it even, so he looked down at the pleading look on Frank’s face and simply ran his finger’s through the boy’s hair, nodding again. “I still love you, Frank.” He lifted the boy’s chin and pressed their lips together, opening his mouth to which Frank correctly interpreted as a cue to open his as well. Their tongues moved rhythmically together in a kiss for a few moments before Mikey pulled back, taking Frank by the chin again and establishing eye contact. “But if you interrupt me again, you’ll be sorry.”

Frank nodded at this, and even smiled, so Mikey allowed their lips to press together again.



Once in the hospital, Mikey observed the waiting room from the hallway through the pane of glass in the door. It was almost completely empty except for Ray and Matt, who both sat rather solemnly, in an area off to the corner of the room. Matt was in a chair, eyes closed, head lulled back, ankles crossed, resting, so it seemed. Ray, on the other hand, sat rather stiff, legs shoulder-width apart, his elbows rested on his knees and his hands covered up his eyes. Mikey could only assume that this action was from exhaustion, because otherwise, it would have to have been grief that put the man into such a position, and Mikey could not imagine someone grieving for his brother. There were not exactly any remarkable traits about him to mourn.

He looked back over his shoulder at Frank, “If they ask what happened,” he said, referring to the bruising on the boy’s face, “tell them it was from the fight with Gerard.” He did not let his eyes linger, but he supposed that Frank would have probably nodded, quite obediently, as Mikey pressed the door open.

The effect was instantaneous: the two men already in the room immediately drew their attention to the two who were entering; Ray simply straightened up in his seat, but Matt got to his feet, clapping Mikey on the shoulder when he was close enough to do so. He didn’t say anything. Mikey was sure that Matt and Ray thought that he was completely distraught by the state of Gerard, so Mikey wore the front this time, giving Matt a smile that he hoped would look appreciative as he moved (with Frank in tow) toward the row of chairs on which Ray was sitting. He gave Frank a look that plainly said to take a seat, but kept standing himself.

When Frank had complied sitting a seat from Ray, Mikey looked to Matt, addressing him in a somber tone. “Have they given you any news on his condition?” he asked. He could see both Matt and Ray eyeing both his and Frank's injuries suspiciously as he spoke, but this simply made his spine straighten as he readied himself to explain the dots of blood surrounding his lips and the battered, oddly quiet Frank behind him. However, the questions never came, now must not have been the time for them.

“Yeah.” Matt simply nodded and sat on Ray’s other side, he gestured for Mikey to sit as well, and continued when Mikey took the other seat next to Ray. “He’s out of surgery, but he’s still out from anesthesia. They said he’s lucky to be alive though. Lucky he could call an ambulance. You shoulda seen him, Mikey, there was blood everywhere. It was horrible.”

“I wonder what he did though,” said Ray, taking a glance toward the door that lead to the emergency room, “I wonder who he pissed off.” He turned to Mikey raising his eyebrows slightly, “He didn’t say anything about why he wanted you gone?”

“No.” Mikey replied quickly. He mentally kicked himself. His response was too quick. But he pressed on anyway, sitting back in his chair and clearing his throat. “Wouldn’t say a thing about it,” he continued, going by whatever came to his mind first at this point, “just told us to get out, right Frank?” He turned to Frank moving a hand to the boy’s knee.

This clearly relayed his meaning because Frank nodded, adding a passionate, “Yeah.”

“God, that sucks,” sighed Matt, “Gerard’s too secretive for his own good. If he just would have let us know what sort of trouble he was in…”

“You know my brother,” said Mikey, trying to keep the bitterness in his voice to a minimum, “he’s not the most intelligent guy in the world, but he does love his secrets.”

“I just hope they catch the bastard who did it.” Ray said quietly, “As much of an asshole as he’d been acting like lately, he didn’t deserve that.”

“They’ll find him.” Mikey lied, “Whoever the sick mother fucker is who did this will pay. I’m sure of it.” Though he could feel Frank’s eyes on him, he couldn’t feel remorse. He couldn’t feel sympathy. And the only reason that he could feel glad for Gerard’s livelihood was because this gave him another chance to kill his brother. And maybe they would catch the sick mother fucker who did it, he told himself, maybe they wouldn’t, but Mikey had years of lesser attacks by Gerard to make up for, and surely putting him in the hospital at least started to lessen Mikey’s need for retribution toward his brother. To him, this was merely getting even.

The four of them waited for some time. Ray had gone back into the stance that Mikey had seen him in before he’d entered the room. Matt had gotten out of his chair and started to pace and Frank had fallen asleep again, his head resting on Mikey, who sat awake, his eyes focused lazily on the door across the room, eager for the moment when it would open and he would be able to go back and speak to his brother in private. He chuckled darkly to himself, just picturing how Gerard might look when he walked into his hospital room.