For the Monsters that I've Been.

It was hardly more than ten o’clock in the morning when Mikey got back to Gerard’s car. He hardly paid attention to the roads as he drove back to the house that he shared with the rest of the guys. His hospital visit to Gerard was still playing in his head along with the events from the last couple of days. The rest of the visit had not lasted long, it had no reason to be. Mikey had found the information that he had needed and there was no point in hanging around for long after he had obtained it. This left only one question for Mikey to ask: “When do you get out?”

Gerard had said, in a rather disappointed tone, that he would be out the next day. And he had seemed thoroughly put out when Mikey stood after the completion of this question. He had frowned, asking his younger brother why he didn’t stay for a bit longer. Mikey had just laughed at this. Gerard was pathetic. There was no other word for it. He voiced this to his brother, who frowned further and shook his head, huffing slightly. “But you’ll pick me up tomorrow when I’m allowed to go, right?” Of course, Mikey had said that he would, but he had also left soon after, almost embarrassed that he was the one that his brother had to call for favors. It was almost painfully obvious how disadvantaged Gerard was.

Before, Mikey had seen his brother in the opposite light. Gerard had been so important; Gerard had been so intelligent; so worthy of respect. Mikey had been sure that Gerard had loved him, but at the same time, Mikey had been sure that nothing mattered to Gerard. He had been sure that Gerard could do whatever he wanted because he was above everyone else, because it was his right. Now Mikey was certain of just the opposite.

The love that Mikey had been sure of remained evident. The entire time in the hospital room, he had seen Gerard’s eyes on him, he had even made a suggestion of the pair engaging in sexual activity again. Yes, Mikey was as sure as he had been before, Gerard loved him, but looking back on it, thinking that he was bulletproof was ridiculous. The idea that Gerard was so much more superior was laughable now. Mikey was now fully aware that Gerard was no better than anyone. He had succumb to the same temptations that any common person did. This horrible longing that Frank had for Mikey was also so evident in Gerard. Each was so dependent on him, so needy. Mikey could not stand it.

These urges that they held were not so different, though he was sure that if he were to argue this with either Frank or Gerard, they would each disagree. Gerard would probably laugh, telling Mikey that he was delusional. He would tell Mikey that he had used him to get off and that was it. He would claim that he’d never needed him, “Sounds like wishful thinking to me,” he could almost hear Gerard chuckle in his head. But Gerard would still look at him with that longing as he left. He’d still bullshit around for a few extra minutes with Mikey and he’d still do that hopeful little laugh; that pathetic bullshit little laugh. Then, like the first time he’d visit in the hospital, and with that longing look in his eyes, he’d ask him to come back again sometime.

And Frank was the same, even though he wouldn’t admit it. Frank would have told Mikey that he was wrong. He would have sworn up and down that he loved Mikey. He would have sworn that he would do anything to make Mikey happy. He would have said that he didn’t need anything in return. But that was a lie. Mikey was sure that Frank wouldn’t have felt the same if Mikey had claimed that it would make him happy if Frank left. For some ungodly reason, Frank enjoyed staying near Mikey. He seemed to be more terrified of being without him than he was of having the hell beaten out of him. He could just see Frank’s eyes starting to shine with tears if he told him to go, and with that longing in his eyes, he’d ask him to please not leave him.

Though, luckily for Frank, Mikey couldn’t see himself leaving. As much as Frank annoyed him at times, there was something that kept Mikey wanting to be near him. Of course, there was the fact that it made him absolutely furious to even think about Frank with another person, but that wasn’t all that there was to it. In fact, that was probably just part of it. But that was as far as he could reckon, honestly. He wanted to be able to place his need of Frank to a specific reason, but the more he thought on it, the less reasoning there seemed to be in it. It was just something that was there for Mikey and he couldn’t do anything about it. And he wasn’t sure if he found Frank lucky or unlucky for this.

There was no more time to think on it, however. Before Mikey knew it, he was pulling into the driveway of the house. As he did so, he noted that Ray and Matt’s cars were still there. So he had to potential to face either of them when he entered the house. Frank, on the other hand, didn’t have a car. He always rode the bus or called someone for a ride. This had a few downsides. The first was that, since Mikey didn’t have a car either, both of these methods of transportation required Frank to be around other people in order to get from one place to another (though this could easily be remedied considering whose possession Gerard’s keys were in). The second, and less easily fixed problem was was that Mikey could not be sure if Frank was home or not just from pulling into the driveway like he could be of any of the other housemates.

With this thought, Mikey pulled the gear into ‘park’ and turned the keys inward. He pulled the keys from the ignition and pocketed them, then ascended the walkway to the front door of the house.

Upon opening the door, Mikey observed a person sleeping on the sofa. He passed on the way to the kitchen and noted Ray, a game controller in his hand. As he peered up to the television, he noticed a ‘paused’ screen from some sort of video game. Mikey rolled his eyes and diverted his step to the TV, pressing the ‘on/off’ button before he made his way to the kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee and then sat at the kitchen table, arms crossed and foot tapping as he waited for the coffee to be done brewing. This, however, only took a matter of minutes, and soon Mikey had crossed back through the living room and was headed upstairs holding two coffee cups by their handles in one of his hands.

The walk down the hallway was an interesting one. Mikey had closed the bedroom door behind him and it was closed as he was approaching it as well, but that hardly meant anything. Frank could have closed it behind him after he’d left as well. He could have used Ray’s cellphone to call a friend to pick him up or he could have walked a few minutes to a bus stop and be anywhere. And as he used his free hand to reach for the doorknob, Mikey found himself both enraged at himself for feeling so anticipatory to see another person, but terrified of his need not being fulfilled.

But only the former emotion was proven necessary for Mikey to feel once the door swung open. Frank was still on the bed, curled up in the position that Mikey had left him in, his hand on Mikey’s pillow just as it had been over his chest when he’d woken that morning, but this was less annoying. Cute, even, Mikey noted as he set the coffee down on the bedside table. He then sat on the bed, legs still on the floor and moved a hand up to Frank’s hair pushing it back gently as was the action he had become accustomed to in order to wake the boy.

“Baby,” he said softly, moving his hand down to Frank’s chin, tilting it away from the pillow that it was resting on. “It’s time to get up, sugar.”

“Mm…” Frank groaned slightly, parting his eyes slightly as he looked up to Mikey, “Nah, yet, Mikey, please…” His head lulled into Mikey’s hand and he groaned again, sort of nuzzling it, his lips pressing to Mikey’s wrist, a hand gripping the fabric on Mikey’s jeans. “‘should come back tah bed. ‘searly.”

Mikey sighed heavily, annoyed, but withheld himself from striking or yelling at Frank. Instead, he ran his fingers through the boy’s hair again, actually enjoying the way that Frank leaned into him, just asking to be touched further. But as enjoyable as this was to watch, Mikey pulled back after a few moments, shaking his head at the elongated groan that came from Frank as he did so. “I’ll be right back,” he chucked in response.

Mikey walked the hallway quickly, not nervous but anxious, he supposed, excited to see the product of what he was about to do. He came to Gerard’s door and entered without a second thought. There hadn’t been police inside, he noted with a smirk, maybe there hadn’t been enough time for them to even find their way over because there was still a gruesome pool of blood that seemed to be forming a sort of crust on the carpet. The scissors that Mikey had used to puncture Gerard’s neck as well as to cut the thread that had bound his lips were still on the floor with browning blood upon them. The drawer that both he and Frank had spent portions of the night locked inside was still ajar, the key to it laying inches away. Mikey bent down and retrieved this, pocketing it in his jeans as opposed to the car keys that he had in his jacket as not to mix the two up. The car, Gerard could have back, eventually, at least.

He then moved on to the dresser that Gerard had told him about, rummaging all of the drawers until he came across several baggies underneath a mess of t-shirts. The first pills he noticed were orange and had things that looked like little beads inside of them, the next were little green tablets with the number 80 indented into them, and then the little blue pills with an A on them which Mikey knew well, though he had only learned an hour or so previous that they were called Ambien. The two other baggies he struggled with. Gerard had never said what Adderall looked like, and with his malicious intent toward Frank, there could have been a reason. There was quite a high possibility that giving Frank the wrong pill could have detrimental consequences.

But he took both baggies anyway, keeping them in his grasp as he went back to his bedroom. He sat back on the bed and was greeted with another groan from Frank, whose chin he took after setting both baggies on the bed. “Baby,” he said again, pushing back the boy’s hair, “you ever taken an Adderall before?”

“Mph-” Frank nodded, yawning wide, his eyes still closed “yeah. Why? You got some?”

“If I did,” Mikey mused, “what color would they be?”

“Only ever seen orange ones,” Frank replied, blinking his eyes open to Mikey, lifting his head up slightly from the pillow, his eyelids still very clearly heavy, “mmph-” he yawned again, running his fingers through his own hair, “you really have some though?”

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, “sit up,” he said, reaching his hand into the baggie with the orange pills and extracting two of them. Frank complied, groggily as Mikey opened the drawer of the bedside table and concealed all three baggies of pulls inside of it. He then took one of the mugs of coffee and gave it to Frank. He extended his hand, prompting Frank to present his palm, and the boy did, allowing Mikey to drop the pills into it. Frank’s eyes were tired, but timid as they looked up to Mikey, who nodded slightly saying: “Go on.”

Never one to ignore a direct order these days, Frank brought his hand to his mouth and dropped the pills in, then took a gulp of coffee to wash them down his throat, cringing a bit at the surely bitter taste from the pills on his tongue- he took another drink of coffee to rid himself of that and then held the mug gingerly between both of his hands, two very weary eyes looking back up to Mikey. “Can I go back to bed until they kick in?” he asked.

Mikey nodded and held his hand out to take the coffee cup from Frank, and then set it on the bedside table before moving up to sit against the headboard. He let Frank rest his head on his lap as he slept and he pushed the boy’s hair back until his breathing was at a deep steady pace. Once this happened, Mikey moved two fingers of one hand down to Frank’s jugular vein, using the other to get the coffee that Frank hadn’t finished before he’d gone to sleep and drained it himself, then started to work on his own cup, feeling the pulse in the boy’s neck slowly start to gain speed as the pills began to take effect.