Oh Baby Let Me In

December 25th, 1999
Thursday;afternoon

I smiled slightly, though it was pretty much forced, and let my gaze fall to my feet before reaching out in front of me and gripping onto the back of my Mom's winter jacket. I tugged lightly, letting her know I needed her attention, and she quickly turned away from her current conversation with one of my Aunts; one of her own sisters, and pulled my hand off of her jacket toenclosing it in her own.

I'm eighteen years old, and I still need my Mother to hold my hand.

How fucking pathetic am I?

But it made me feel, safe almost, and that's all I cared about right now.

I let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding, before reluctantly following her, my clammy hands beginning to shake even more than when we arrived less than five minutes ago.

Christmas. Some see it as the birth of Jesus Christ and go off and attend Church to celebrate the day, while others find it more of a day of gathering, like my family does. This is the one day out of the whole year that my Mom's side of the family get together for gifts and a dinner made for about fifty people, when in reality, there are only like, twenty people at her house.

My Auntie Laurie always makes too much food. But she makes sure she gets rid of it all though; walking around the dinner table with the pans of food, filling anyone's plate that had room for more.

I always went home sick after her Christmas dinner.

Passing through the living room, we met up with Auntie Laurie, who was just as upbeat as ever. She made sure to give me a hug, breaking contact with my Mom for just a few seconds, but felt like so much longer. She let me go, ruffling my hair as I connected myself back onto my Mom, listening to my Aunt babble on about how Uncle George, their brother, wouldn't make it to dinner tonight due to a tragic accident that happened this morning with him and a ladder. I wanted to ask why their eldest brother, who had to be around fifty or so, would be up on a ladder at nine in the morning, fixing his Christmas lights. I kept it to myself though. It wasn't like I could share my thoughts or anything.

Auntie Laurie heard her name being called out from the kitchen, and she quickly beckoned us to follow. My Mom tugged me along behind her, and I followed.

I pulled my jean jacket closer to my body , silently wishing it was someone else’s sweatshirt, as we squeezed through people, Auntie Laurie's house wasn't that big at all, and cramming everyone into three or four rooms didn't help the traffic in the halls. We made our way down the hall, stopping in the living room entrance, a mob of people kept us from moving into the kitchen. Kids littered the entire room, most looking like they were under the age of fifteen.

My Mom came from a pretty big family; four sisters and three brothers. She was the youngest out of all eight kids, so all of her siblings had kids, some of her older brothers had kids who had their own kids. I could barely keep track anymore, and it wasn't like I see my family all the time. Christmas is the only time.

I think it's okay if I slack off.

I watched as they fought with each other over a video game controller, a full out brawl almost following. One of the small boys, who I think was Uncle Drew's kid, threw down his controller, and launched himself from one side of the couch, over two other kids, and landed on top of another. They both went for each other's hair, and ended up toppling to the ground with a 'thud'. I quickly looked over my Mom's shoulder into the kitchen, wondering if anybody was going to come out and keep these demond children from killing each other. Everyone was talking, and talking, and talking, and didn't even seem to hear the disturbance in the other room. I let my gaze move back into the room, but pulled it back just as quick. They were knocking shit off the tables making a fucking mess, and I knew if I stood and watched any longer, I'd have to go in their and clean it all up.

They'd just have another reason to stare at their 'weird cousin'.

I moved myself further down the hall, accidentally stepping on the back of my Mom's foot in the process. She inhaled quickly, lifting her foot off of the ground in instinct, turning to face me. But seeing my face, which I hoped passed for upset and scared shitless, she shook her head lightly, giving my hand a quick squeeze. She reached up, brushing a few strands of hair out of my face. "We'll leave after gifts Sweetie, okay?"

I nodded quickly, my eyes widening to show how much I liked her suggestion, before I rested my head on her shoulder, as we continued to wait in hall traffic. Gifts were after dinner, so it wouldn’t be too long.

I hoped.

"Aww, Linda! And Frankie, dear! Look at you!"

I froze at the voice, gripping my Mom's hand tighter, my forehead pressing harder against her shoulder, the top of my head pressing into her neck.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched my Grandma push her was through people, out of the kitchen and towards us. The apron she wore around her waist was covered in pasta sauce and dough, and as she approached us, she began to shake her head, smiling like there was no tomorrow.

"Frankie darling! My, my, you are getting big!" she laughed, the large glasses that adorned her face slid down her nose. She let them sit at the end of her nose before tearing me away from my Mom and burying me in one of those 'Grandma hugs'. The ones that never seem to end.

Ever.

She continued to babble on to me like I was four, about how adorable I've become, and how she wanted to just pinch my cheeks. Which she ended up doing anyways.

"Oh we have so much to talk about Linda. Frankie! You come too."

I frowned as she grabbed my hand, pulling me and my Mom, who I had grabbed onto as I was getting pulled away, and dragged into the kitchen.

Upon shooing everyone out of the kitchen, though it wasn't even her house, my Grandma went back to her cooking as me and my Mom sat down at the stools around the island in the kitchen. They began to talk, and talk, and talk as Grandma kept cooking, occasionally yelling at anybody who tried to enter the kitchen, claiming that they were ruining her concentration. But when Auntie Laurie made her way in, Grandma had her take over the cooking so she could join us at the table.

She and my Mom sat on one side, as I sat on the other, elbow in the table, chin in my palm. I tried not to look bored out of my mind as they discussed Uncle George's possible broken hip, but it was hard not too.

I had never been close to my Grandma, or anybody in my family for that matter, but the way she kept talking to me, it felt like I'd spent my whole life with her or something. She kept calling me 'Frankie', and it was starting to annoy me. I only let my Mom and Mikey call me that.

Well, Gerard started calling me that too, but that was a different story.

Kinda.

I shook my head as began thinking about him again; something I've been doing a lot lately.

Especially since Monday.

Ugh, I didn't even want to start thinking about Monday again.

"Ick, Mikey. That is fucking disgusting."

Mikey's eyes widened, mumbled words fell from his mouth, along with a stream of chocolate sauce. He stood up from the couch quickly, the substance just missing his leg and falling to the carpet.

I snorted from my seat at the opposite end of the couch as Mikey cussed, mouth still full, before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and skidded into the kitchen, mouth to the ceiling incase anything else fell from it.

Gerard began laughing from his spot on the loveseat, which sat on Mikey's side of the couch. It was almost as girly as my own, yes I admit I have a girly laugh, and it caused me to join in.

After leaving my house, Gerard thought it would be a good idea to stop off at the grocery store to pick up stuff for ice cream sundaes. Mikey went insane with the chocolate syrup and different flavors of ice cream, and as I looked down at my bowl, I couldn't even remember what kinds I used to make it. It now just looked like a big blob of -- stuff.

Setting my bowl down on the coffee table, I sat further back on the couch and swung my legs up onto the couch, pulling the sweatshirt that I was wearing tighter around my body.

I had 'forgotten' to grab one on the way out of my house, and when we made it back to Gerard's car, I realized that he hadn't left one in the backseat like he had before and silently cursed because I knew that his car's heating didn't work all that well. Though when he saw me shivering in the back of his car through his rearview mirror blocks away from my house, he first questioned how I could have forgotten one in this weather before coming to a halt at a red light, slipping off his jacket and bright red zip-up sweatshirt underneath, throwing it back to me.

Drawing my knees up to my chin, I hid my smiling face behind them, inhaling his scent off of the sweatshirt, as I shot quick glances over to Gerard, who was now making himself another sundae, this one not as large as his first.

He had cut his hair earlier today, but he didn't seem to like it much. I liked it much better cut; I could see his eyes now that they weren't hidden behind a wall of black hair.

Now I sound like a teenage girl or something.

He used both of his hands to squeeze the chocolate syrup bottle, and by the airy sounds it was making, made me believe that it was all gone. Gerard didn't look happy about it though.

"Fuck you Michael! You ate it all!" he whined, letting the bottle fall from his hands, and bounce onto the table. Mikey shouted back a response, but he had traveled from the kitchen, and further into the house, so I couldn't make it out. The bottle oozed the last bit of sauce from the opening at the top, and made a small puddle on the table. Gerard's index finger quickly wiped it up and it disappeared into his mouth.

My eyes grew wide and I tightened my grip on the cuffs of his sweatshirt, watching him get lost in thought; his eyes glued to the ceiling as he continued to suck the chocolate off of his finger.

So over the last week or so, or since my first dream about him, I've come to the conclusion that I have a crush of my best friend's older brother. And yes, I've had more than one dream. I still haven't told Mikey, and I sure as hell was not going to talk to my Mother about this. I had absolutely no idea how to identify with these weird feelings I was having towards him, because face it; I've never actually felt like this about anybody. Especially since it was for another guy. I know of kids at my school that get the shit beat out of them for being gay, so I had always told myself that I wouldn't want to be one of those people; getting beat up for my sexual orientation, plus because I couldn't say anything to ever defend myself. I've never spoken to a female at school, or course, and even those who cared to look my way always had to have those snide comments about how 'freakish' I was.

So in all, I really had no idea 'which was I swung', as Gerard put it, but all I knew was that, in some odd way, I was attracted to the man sitting in front of me, who was now looking over at me, confused expression etched on his face.

"Did you hear me?"

I made quick eye contact, raising my eyebrows, before finding his white long-sleeved shirt quite interesting.

He let out a small laugh, scooting farther forward on his seat, arms resting on his legs. "Are you going to finish that?" He motioned to my unfinished ice cream.

I caught his gaze once more, before shaking my head. He grinned, leaning forward and snatched the bowl up. He gripped the spoon I had left in the bowl and mixed it around a bit, still sitting on the edge of his seat, before scoffing.

"You were the one who took all of the chocolate sauce, not Mikey!" he laughed, sending me a small glare, before scooping up a spoonful of the ice cream and shoving it in his mouth.

I smiled a bit and buried my face into my arms, my eyes still visible, concealing my bright red face. I just had that spoon in my mouth, and now it was in his.

Wow.

He scooped a bit more into his mouth before setting the bowl back down onto the table, pushing himself up from his seat, patting his stomach and groaning. "I ate too much."

I let out a soft laugh, nodding my head. I did too.

"So," he started, scratching the back of his head quickly. "You want to draw now?"

I shrugged, but then nodded. He smiled and nodded back, making his way to the kitchen to get to the basement, but Mikey's shouting stopped him. "After I deal with him, we'll start."

I nodded again, watching him walk off down the hall to, I presumed, Mikey's room.

I slid further into the couch, using the arm rest as a pillow, stretching my legs out and taking up the whole space. Footsteps were heard once again, and soon both brothers came around the corner. Gerard smiled at me, before disappearing into the kitchen, to his room. Mikey followed just behind him, looking quite flustered as he attempted to pin something to his shirt. I coughed loudly to get his attention.

His head snapped up, and eyes went wide. "Shit Frank. I forgot I had work at three. Gerard's going to drive me there real fast, but then he'll come back and do these lesson things," he waved his hands about before going back to pinning what I had seen was his name tag.

Mikey Way
How May I Help You?

I sat up too quick, my stomach being filled with all the ice cream was starting to make me feel sick.

He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave me with him. He couldn't leave me with him alone.

He needed to be here.

I shook my head back and forth, pushing myself up from the couch, stepping over to him to tug on his shirt sleeve.

"What, Frankie, I have to go! Walt is going to fire me if I'm late one more tim-- What?" his eyebrows crinkled together, his fingers freezing.

My head continued to sway back and forth, my hands now sitting on his shoulders began to shake. He couldn't leave me.

"Frank!" he snapped his fingers in front of my face, his own hands going up to rest on my shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Air wouldn't come fast enough through my nose, so I had to use my mouth instead, and it was in that instant that I realized I was shaking all over.

"Christ, Frank, calm down," Mikey whispered, his eyes darting around my face. His hands moved to both sides of my head, stopping it from moving back and forth, but the rest of my body kept shaking, and it felt way too heavy to hold up anymore.

His arms quickly dropped from my face to under my arms as I collapsed to the floor, trying his hardest to soften my fall. He dropped to his knees beside me, my breaths becoming more labored than before, and soon enough I was almost gasping for it.

"Frankie," Mikey whimpered, his eyes larger than ever, as he pulled me over to the couch, resting my back against the side. My hair was plastered to my face, sweat now covering most of my body as I gripped the carpet, my knuckles turning white. "What's happening? What--what am I supposed to do?"

My throat felt like it was closing up as I leant my head backwards to rest on the side of the couch, my eyes beginning to water.

"Mikey! Get your ass in the car! I can't fuckin' drive that fast," Gerard laughed, but it quickly stopped as I heard him enter the living room. "What the fuck?"

"Gee!" Mikey cried, scrambling to his feet as I watched through half lidded eyes, my breaths sounding more like quick pants as the seconds past. "I--I don't know. Gee, help--I don't know what's wrong."

Mikey's voice was higher than normal, strangled almost, and it scared me even more. My chin began to quiver as my whole body continued to shake, and I could feel tears fall down my face faster than I could attempt to hold them back.

What was happening to me?

"Shit, Frank," Gerard's voice floated into my ears, closer than I expected. My eyes shot open, only to be met with his. He was knelt to my left, his jacket abandoned next to him. He raised his hand to push hair off of my forehead before turning back to Mikey. "Get some water, okay?"

His voice was so calm that it began to scare me once again, and reached up with a shaking hand to wipe away the tears soaking my already sweat streaked face. Mikey rose from the floor, eyes still big and not looking away from my face. "Gee," he whimpered, reaching up to wipe away the tears that were running down his own face.

I made him cry.

I closed my eyes once again, my lungs calling for air like never before.

"What's going on Gerard?" Mikey whispered.

"He's having a panic attack Mikey. Just go get water, okay? He's going to be fine," he assured his brother, his hand now resting on my own.

If I wasn't already breathing out of whack, I would have started to now.

I heard Mikey shuffle out of the room, and Gerard then gripped my hand with his own, raising it to his chest.

"Frank," he voiced, squeezing my fingers. I didn't open my eyes until I felt him grip my chin, turning my face towards him. My eyes found his, and never moved. "Frank," he pushed hair off of my forehead once again, before resting his hand on the side of my face.

"See how I'm breathing?" he pressed my hand harder against his chest, so I was able to feel how even his breathing was. I nodded quickly, gripping his white shirt with my fingers.

"Breathe with me Frank. Just relax, and breathe with me," he whispered, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. I tried my hardest to do as I was told, but because of how close he was to me, I think my breathing sped up just that much more.

"Frankie," he said, more firmly than before, gripping my chin once more, his face now closer than ever as he rested his forehead against my own. "You need to calm down, okay? Breathe just like I am."

I couldn't look away from his eyes, no matter how hard it was; no matter if I was almost cross-eyed from them being so close to my face. But soon enough, my breathing began to calm down, and my body followed suit. Gerard pulled his forehead off of my own, his slick with my sweat, but he didn't seem to care at all. His eyes scanned my face quickly as he sat back on his feet, his thumb wiping away tears that continued to fall down my face, though they were slowly decreasing in number. I finally broke eye contact to rest my head back on the couch once again, my eyes closing, but my hand stayed clamped onto his shirt.

"Frank?"

I felt another body fall to my side, and soon Mikey had pulled me up and into his arms.

"Fuck, Frankie. I--I won't leave, okay? I'll call in--or something. Okay?" Mikey mumbled into my ear, and I nodded tiredly, laying my head down on his shoulder, noticing the bottle of water he must have brought with him sitting on the ground.

I looked up at Gerard as he took hold of my hand on his shirt, and I quickly let go of it, but he never let go of my hand. He reached up with his free hand, fixing my hair that had gotten messed up during my little 'episode', before smiling. I returned it quick before closing my tired eyes, silently cursing that I had ruined my 'art lesson' with my crush, and the rest of the day for my best friend.

"Frank! Sweetheart, are you even listening to me?"

I blinked my eyes a few times, before turning my head to the voice. My chin still sat in my palm, though it was now rested on the countertop. I sat up fast, giving my full attention to my Mom, who I had tuned out when I had zoned out for a few minutes. I shot her a small, apologetic smile.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She motioned over to the stove, which Grandma stood at, scooping pasta onto plates, my family lined up behind her.

"Time to eat Frankie. We can go after gifts, okay?”

I nodded tiredly, taking her hand as she offered it.

I just wanted to go home.