Andy tosses the name around in his head, letting the syllables merge together into meaningless noises.

Ashley Purdy. His name sounds a little like a mentally handicapped redneck trying to describe someone relativity attractive named Ashley.

If he was going to be honest, Ashley is pretty attractive.

Dammit, Oli’s gay is starting to rub off on him.

He pulls his knees a little closer to his chest and stares blankly at the TV screen. The heavy feeling in his chest won’t leave. He doesn’t like this, he doesn’t like being alone.

Should he call someone? No, that’d make him seem desperate. Andy curses under his breath and fumbles for a cigarette, the flame from the lighter mixing in with the blue glow from the TV.

Even breathing. He just has to concentrate on that. He’s fine, nothing can hurt him, and he should probably get some sleep.

Yeah. Sleep.

He finishes the cigarette and puts it in the ashtray, standing on shaky feet and making his way to his room, pausing for a minute outside his mother’s room and listening for a pause in her breathing, but there’s no inconsistencies. She’s okay.

Still shaking, Andy collapses onto his bed without a second thought, hoping that sleep will come quick and mercilessly.


“Oh shit, Andy’s sixth sense is telling us something. What is it? Do you see dead people?” Oli says, gesturing wildly, leaning in closer to Andy.

“Yes, they’re telling me...They’re telling me to shove you down the stairs,” Andy says in mock seriousness, pressing two fingers to his temple and creasing his brow in feigned confusion.

“Stop it. Andy, what’s wrong?” Vic says, smacking Andy upside the head and swinging a side kick at Oli’s legs.

“Just a little nervous about telling Ashley tonight I guess,” He says, staring at the ground.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong, we’ll kill them,” Gerard says, patting Andy’s shoulder.

The group is closely pressed together behind the bleachers, smoke thick in the air and voices low as to avoid detection. Oli had sent an SOS, saying his math teacher is a ‘fat old perverted cunt’, which is code for Oli hadn’t done the homework.

The haze of the smoke encircling them is hypnotizing, thick and dreary, cigarette after cigarette being smoked by Andy and Gerard, with the occasional stolen drag from Oli. The atmosphere itself is oozing adrenaline, they’re on the edge of their seats for tonight.

A children’s park, of all places. The epitome of innocence, and Andy had chosen to soil the ground with his blood-stained hands and guilty soul, but not only that, he’s bringing with him his accomplices, the equally guilty, his companions on the fast track to eternal damnation.

The idea fascinates Gerard. He had shared this with Vic, whose eyes had blown wide and immediately he had scrambled for a pen and a scrap of paper and written it down, claiming that everything worth hearing should be saved. Gerard had simply shaken his head in a silent agreement.

The sun is slowly dragging itself across the sky, the final bell of the day breaking the otherwise silent air with its shrill ring. Anticipation is one of the only thing keeping the boys sane, and it’s going to be the only consistent factor in everything they’re going to do in the next seven hours.


Tony exhales roughly. What is he gonna do about Mike? He can’t just tell Vic, Mike is everything to Vic, the only reason he got up out of bed, and telling Vic that his precious baby brother is doing drugs and is more than likely addicted would be the only push he needs to fall off the cliff he’s teetering on.

A napkin etched with blue ink is the only form of plan he’s got. Tony hates the idea of keeping Vic in the dark, but it seems to be for the best. The hardest task is going to be getting Mike sober without being with him every waking moment, hell, even every unconscious moment. If Tony were to just randomly camp out with Vic and Mike for no apparent reason, it would raise suspicion, so he has to come up with some idea to never leave Mike alone.

The plan hits him like a much needed slap to the face.

Mikey Way.

Tony searches around for his phone, knowing that Mikey’s number is already in there. Mikey had given it to Tony after the theater, saying he usually gives his number to Gerard’s friends in case Gerard does something stupid. Apparently this occurs more often than thought, but it makes sense, in a way. Gerard is always putting others first, even complete strangers. His compassion is a fault and a strength in one; it can kill him or save him at any given moment.

Tony shoots a quick text at Mikey, telling him to meet him as soon as he can. When Mikey inquires, Tony simply says that he’ll explain as soon as they see each other. Mikey offers the cover story of help with schoolwork, and Tony agrees that that is a great excuse. Mikey sends one last text saying that he’ll see Tony soon, and Tony clicks his phone off and sets it on top of the blue-inked napkin.

He hopes that this will work. If it doesn’t, well, his pen isn’t yet out of ink and there are infinite napkins in the world still to be scribbled upon.


Mikey meets Tony with a questioning and worried look.

“What’s up?” He asks, sitting on the couch next to Tony, concern radiating off of him.

“Okay, you have to help me, but you have to keep it a secret,” Tony says, facing Mikey the best he can and fiddling with the napkin.

“Y-yeah, I can do that,” Mikey replies, the worry increasing rapidly.

Tony breathes slowly, trying to stay calm.

“Mike’s gotten into drugs, some bad shit. He tried to buy from me the other day, but I stopped him. I told him I wouldn’t tell Vic, on the condition that he got clean and was honest with me about his usage. I know drug addicts Mikey, they’re liars and thieves. There’s no way in hell he’s going to be honest with me, and I can’t keep an eye on him every moment of the day. So I need you to. Watch him, try your hardest not to leave his side, and if possible, find out who got him addicted in the first place, because I want a word with that bastard. Could you do that?”

Mikey nods slowly. “I knew... I knew he had done stuff, but I didn’t think it was an addiction. Just, ‘Oh, I wanna look cool in front of my friends, here I’ll snort this line’ but not anything serious. I can’t believe he was dumb enough to try to buy from you. Yeah, I’ll do it, and I’m pretty sure I know who got him into this stuff, but I’ll have to check and double check and blah blah blah just so I make sure I’m not pointing fingers at the wrong person.”

“Thank you, I owe you big time. Now get going before your brother offers to skin me alive,” Tony says as he pulls Mikey in for a hug.

“Anytime. See ya.”


Mike grips the edge of the porcelain sink hard enough that either his fingers or the sink are going to break first. He’s trying, he is trying so hard. But he’s itching, an almost physical itch, a burn buried beneath his skin that can only be relieved by the drug he’d promised not to touch, and tears are slipping down his face, and Mike knows he’s shaking.

“Mike?” someone calls. He really doesn’t care who, he wants to die, he wants to punch somebody, he fucking can’t take it, he needs a fucking hit now.

“Mike?” They call again, coming closer to the bathroom. The footsteps pause outside the bathroom door and they rap two of their knuckles against the wood.

“I’m going to come in,” They say. The door opens slowly.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, Tony told me what’s going on, and I’m going to help, okay?” They say, moving forward and grabbing Mike by the shoulders.

“Mikey? What-”

That’s the only thing out of Mike’s mouth before Mikey’s fingers are latched around his wrist and Mikey’s dragging him out the door.

“We need to distract your brain. Get in the car.”

With no more than a questioning look, Mike gets in the passenger seat and slides the seatbelt across his chest, a smart move, he learns, as Mikey yanks the steering wheel violently to the right, causing the car to spin until the angle is to Mikey’s satisfaction to speed out of the driveway and down the road.

The windows are down and the music is blasting, and they’re speeding down the highway at beyond illegal levels, Mike forcing himself not to look at the speedometer and fear for his life. Car horns chase them as they speed, taking dangerous curves and passing cars going the legal limit in long lines.

“Who knew,” Mike shouts over the roar of the wind and the thrum of the bass, “That Mikey fuckin’ Way had it in him to drive like he was in a Mad Max movie?”

Mikey grins. “There’s a lot I’ve got in me that nobody knows about, mainly because Gee causes enough trouble for the both of us.”

Mike laughs. “Fair enough.”

Mikey’s plan is working, even if Mike doesn’t realize it. Physically being detoxed only takes 1-3 days, the rest of it, the need, the want, is all mental. The solution is to distract the addict, make them forget they ever took anything. And when addiction is replaced with adrenaline, it’s almost as if nothing could go wrong.


And unless Mikey decides to cause a head on collision, or loses control, nothing is about to.


The creak of the hinges on a swing is usually soothing or eerie, depending on your location, whether or not you are alone and the amount of wind in the area. This time, it’s neither.

Oli kicks his legs, fingers clasped around the chain of the swing like a child. Vic tries his hardest to find comfort in the noise, but all he can really register is the intense beating of his heart and the nervous fidgeting of his companions.

It’s exactly ten minutes until Ashley is supposed to show up, and despite anything soothing they had or currently were participating in, they’re alive with anticipation and excitement. Calm is miles upon miles away.

The first clue that Ashley is approaching is the distant murmur of voices. They have to be shouting for Andy to be hearing them now, and he swears under his breath. If Ashley and his gang aren’t silent enough, they’ll attract some negative attention and he really isn’t in the mood for a chase tonight.

With one smooth motion, Oli jumps from the swing, running a few paces as to avoid falling over. He pulls his gun from the inside of his hoodie, checking the bullets one more time before putting it away.

Around him, Vic, Gerard and Tony do the same. Andy is the last to check, he always is.

“Ready?” Andy speaks into the silence.

“We don’t really have a choice,” Vic responds.

The figures making their way towards the group became clearer and more defined as they get closer. Ashley is at the front of the group, two larger, scarier looking guys on either side of him. They’re acting as though they had come for a fight and not an agreement.

Oli tenses and his hands bury themselves in the pocket of his hoodie, wrapping themselves around the gun. He isn’t sure what the hell Ashley is playing at, do they look menacing or something? Seriously, Gerard looks like a frightened blond puppy, and Vic is way too short for this shit. So what the hell is Ashley doing?

“Have we made up our mind?” Ashley says with a grin, his group spread on either side of him.

“Yeah we have, smartass. It’s your turn to shut up now because I’m in charge here, I hold all the cards. Oli, dammit, put the fucking gun down,” Andy spits.

Well what else is Ashley to expect? He just walks in here like he’s the king of the world, of course Andy’s going to get a little bit pissy, and of course, the second someone shows anger, Oli’s gun is raised and ready to fire at any given moment.

“So what’s the deal then? Yes? No? C’mon Andy, tell me now and stop wasting my time.”

“Well it was going to be yes until you walked up to me like you owned the fucking planet. I don’t have the patience or time to deal with cocky assholes, so drop the attitude now or get the fuck out of my sight.”

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry. Do we have a deal?”

“I fucking guess, but you better get your goddamned attitude in line. Shake on it?” Andy says, offering his hand out.

Oli still hasn’t lowered the gun, aiming it perfectly at Ashley’s skull so that one shot will kill him quickly and without any time for Ashley to react.

“Done,” Ashley replies, sliding his hand into Andy’s and giving it a firm shake.

“Alright, we’re gonna need your names, numbers, and addictions, if you have any,” Andy calls out to the crowd, stepping away from Ashley and back into the ranks of his own.

The other group sort of merges together, giving their names and listing out their numbers as Tony types them into his phone with lightning speed. Surprisingly, there are no real addictions (nothing heavy enough for Tony to be concerned about, anyway) and that is extremely helpful.

The numbers of the gang have now climbed to fifteen or so, the exact number a little elusive, mainly because it’s dark and the total number is farther away from anybody’s conscious than it would be in the daylight.

“Right, so we’ll text you when something comes up, and at some point we’ll meet up and get to know each other better. Sorry we can’t really do that tonight. Ashley, will you come with us for a bit? The rest of you can head home. Goodnight,” Andy shouts.

There are responding calls of goodnight, and slowly the larger crowd dissolves, and the other boys turn and leave the park themselves, heading back to Andy’s truck.


“Bad, bad people Mikey Way. You have to listen to me, okay?! They’re gonna scoop you up and take you away to a crime filled life on the road murdering women and burning down children’s hospitals-”

“Shut up Pete. We just need a place to crash, Gerard and Vic are out and they probably won’t be back for a bit. Can you stop your preaching about our terrible criminal brothers and just let us hang out with you? That’s the largest portion of the reason why we’re here.”

Pete pouts. “Fine. I’ll just let them corrupt you. Don’t call me when you wind up in prison.”

“For Christ’s sake I’m not in the gang, my brother is. Can we just watch TV or some shit?”

Mike can’t help but let out a chuckle at the two boys’ banter. They both turn to him with accusing glances, but that doesn’t help matters, it only makes Mike laugh harder.

“You two totally have the hots for each other and it is fucking funny that you both refuse to acknowledge it,” Mike manages to say in between bursts of laughter. Mikey blushes and looks down, while Pete stutters and fails to form words.

“We don’t, okay? Stop laughing! We don’t!” Mikey protests, the color in his cheeks rising.

“Yeah yeah,” Mike says, waving his hand as if he were chasing off a fly. “You’ll come to terms with the fact you want to bang eventually.”

“See Mikey? Evil people!”

“Turn the fucking TV on before I stab you.”


“So Ashley,” Andy says. They’re back in the truck, parked in the parking lot of some closed gas station. Ashley is sitting in between Oli and Tony, much to Oli’s pleasure and Ashley’s discomfort.

“Yeah?” He says, shifting a bit so he’s pressed more into Tony and less into Oli. Oli has to fight the smirk off of his face. It feels good to make people scared of him and he isn’t sorry about it whatsoever.

“What’s your story? Why did you want to join our gangs up? How did you even become the leader in the first place?”

Ashley clears his throat. “Well, uh, it was getting kind of rough for just us on our own. We were an easy target for other gangs, we could’ve been taken out at a minute’s notice. And… I care about those guys, I didn’t want them to get hurt, especially if it was my stupidity. So I did a little research, listened in to some conversations, and I found out you guys were the big name in town, small in numbers, but big in fight. Did a little bit of tracking, found out you guys were at the theater, you know the rest. As for how I became the leader, I was just the one who knew what was happening or going to happen before everyone else.”

Andy nods, and Vic picks up the conversation.

“So why us specifically though? There are bigger names, people who are more excited to increase their numbers. You could’ve chosen them,” Vic says.

“I didn’t trust them. I’ve seen those guys around, they’ve got girls hanging off their arms and bottles glued to their lips. You can’t do much when you’re shitfaced. Well you can, but not well. I didn’t want to risk it, so I went to you guys,” Ashley says, relaxing in his seat a bit.

“Sounds right to me,” Tony says, piping up from an otherwise silent standpoint in the conversation. Ashley looks at him with his confusion apparent on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“That’s the way I heard it. Several times.”

“How did you hear?”

Tony laughs. “I’m one of the biggest drug dealers for here and for the next few towns. I hear everything more than once.”

“Shit, that’s you? I knew it was some dude named Tony, but there’s a lot of Tony’s. Wow, how did you wind up with these guys?”

“That’s a story for another time. Right now, we need to go collect Gerard and Vic’s brothers,” Oli speaks. Andy nods and turns the key in the ignition, the truck coming to life as they pull out of the parking lot and down the road.


Andy tosses the keys to Gerard, himself, Ashley and Tony climbing out of the truck to make room for Mike and Mikey, saying that they’ll go ahead stick behind to make sure that the house doesn’t burn down.

“Yeah right,” Vic calls out the window. “You’ll be the ones setting it on fire.”

“Lies! All lies!” Andy shouts in reply, pulling out his lighter to light the cigarette in his mouth as Tony leans in closer, staring at the flame the lighter produces in captivation.

“Light your fucking cigarette before Tony burns himself,” Oli calls, redirecting Andy’s attention to the look of fascination on Tony’s face.

“Shit, what the fuck are you doing go over here, shoo, we’re not supposed to let them know we’re burning shit!” Andy says, killing the light and stuffing the lighter back into his pocket.

“Get the hell out of here before they think you died and Pete makes their ears bleed,” Tony shouts.

“Adios, losers!” Vic calls as Gerard grins and pulls out of the driveway.


The door is only open for all of twenty seconds before Pete shouts “Nope!” and slams the door in their faces.

“Pete! Open this door you little raccoon eyed freak, before we break it down,” Oli shouts.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try,” Pete shouts back.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna open it?” Oli replies.

“Of course I’m sure! You’re evil, bad bad bad people! You’re here to corrupt my Mikey! And Mike! You’re going to take them with you and burn down children’s hospitals!”

“The fuck?” Vic mutters.

“Break it down Oli. I’m done with this kid’s bullshit,” Gerard spits.

“I’m giving you to the count of five, Wentz,” Oli barks.

“Ooooh, I’m so scared!”


“Pete, what the hell? Who’s out there?”


“The bad people Mikey! They’ve come to take you away!”


“The fuck Pete? Let them in!”


“No Mike! No!”


Thankfully, Oli is cut off by the door swinging open, a practically rabid Pete being restrained by Mikey, the door being held open by Mike.

“Hey,” Mike says. Mikey smiles, to busy concentrating on holding Pete back to speak.

“I’ll take this. You guys go get your shit,” Oli says. He takes Pete from Mikey’s grasp, lifting him off the floor, holding the smaller boy’s shoulders tightly against his chest, an arm tight around the boy’s knees. It’s an awkward angle, almost as if Oli is half-assing holding Pete bridal style, but it keeps him from kicking and thrashing and that’s enough.

“Mikey! Mike! No! Don’t go!” Pete squeals, thrashing in Oli’s grasp.

“Should we just take the little fucker with us?” Oli shouts in Gerard and Vic’s general direction.

“I dunno. Mikey, where are his parents?” Gerard asks.

“Working. They both have the graveyard shift.”

“So if we left a note saying he’s at a friend’s house, we could get away with it?” Vic says.

“Yeah. Think so, at least.”

“Perfect,” Vic says. He wanders around the room, finding a pen and paper and scribbling a quick note to Pete’s parents.

“So we’re taking him then?” Oli asks.

“Guess so,” Mike replies, reaching up a bit to ruffle Pete’s hair. Pete makes a face and snaps a bite at Mike’s hand.

“Kidnapping me! See Mikey! They’re bad!”

“Pete. You’re coming with Mike and me for a sleepover. It’s not kidnapping.”

Pete pouts. “Somewhere it is. Put me down you goon!”

“Just for calling me a goon, I think I’ll carry you out to the car and inside the house when we get back,” Oli says with a smirk. Pete’s eyes widen, and his squirming recommenced.

“Stay still, for fuck’s sake. This’ll be a lot easier if you quit fucking wiggling like a goddamned worm,” Oli says, putting emphasis on his words by squeezing Pete tighter, no doubt making it uncomfortable.

“C’mon, it’s getting late, and we’ve got school tomorrow,” Vic says, holding the door open so Oli can pass through.

“This little shit can’t fucking stay still. Mikey, how the hell do you put up with him?” Oli asks.

Mikey laughs. “I have no fucking clue.”

Gerard opens the doors to the backseat, Mikey sliding in first against the window. Oli marches up to the car and practically tosses Pete in next to Mikey, Mike then climbing in quickly, sandwiching Pete so he can’t leave.

“Kidnapping! Mikey, hide me,” Pete says, burrowing underneath Mikey’s arm. Mike shoots him a glance that purely says “See, I told you” and Mikey promptly flips him off.

The car ride back is nothing but the noises of Pete complaining and condemning them to hell and Mike and Mikey telling him to shut the fuck up, paired with hollow threats from Oli that he will carry Pete everywhere for the rest of the week if he doesn’t stop.

When they reach the house, Vic breathes a sigh of relief. They had previously decided to camp out at Gerard’s house for the night, a customary occurrence when it was late at night and everyone was too tired to drive.

“Fucking – Oli, grab the fucker before he runs,” Mike says, keeping a grip on the door handle, not letting Pete’s insistent pushing make him open the door any faster, despite the discomfort.

“Okay,” Oli says through the lowered window, having climbed out after Vic a few moments after they’d stopped. “Get out slowly, and I’ll grab him and carry him inside. Mikey, can you hold onto him long enough for Mike to get out?”

“Yeah,” Mikey calls back. He glances out the windshield, smiling when he sees that Andy, Tony and Ashley have gathered to witness the release and capture of Pete. Mikey leans forward and grabs Pete’s shoulder’s abruptly, holding him to his chest as Mike opens the door. Mike climbs out with a swift movement, joining his brother and the rest of the boys on the front porch to watch the scene unravel before them.

Oli blocks the exit with his entire body, and gives Mikey a nod.

“Let him go.”

Mikey releases Pete’s shoulders, and Pete launches himself forward, trying to fly out of the small sliver of unblocked space above Oli’s shoulder. Unfortunately, in doing so, he launches himself at Oli, giving Oli just enough time to grab Pete and turn him around to the position he had held him in in the house. Pete releases a defeated cry and begins squirming again.

“Christ!” Oli exclaims as he carries Pete up the steps, Mikey a few paces behind the two.

“Impressive,” Andy says, reaching out to pat Oli’s shoulder. “So I take it we’re dumping the kid with Mike and Mikey? Oh, and by the way, Ashley, this is Pete. He thinks we’re Satan’s minions here to corrupt Vic and Gee’s brothers. Which are those two,” Andy says, gesturing to Mikey and Mike. Ashley nods and says hi, the greeting returned by the pair.

“Yeah, Mikey and Mike are the designated babysitters of the night. Let’s get him inside before he wiggles himself to death,” Oli says, smacking Pete’s shoulder lightly with the hand restraining his upper torso. Pete whimpers and wiggles more as they cross the threshold and enter the house.

Oli sets Pete down as soon as the door is closed, and the first thing Pete does is run and grab Mikey and Mike’s wrists and drag them upstairs, shouting things about kidnapping and corruption and no good, filthy dirty criminals.

“Thank god it’s over. I thought the kid was going to squirm a hole in me,” Oli says, and Andy laughs.

“Well, I’m dead on my feet. I’m gonna go to sleep. You guys good with sleeping downstairs?” Gerard asks.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Night Gee,” Oli says, already moving into the living room.

“Night guys,” Gerard says, following the same path Mikey and Pete just had, going to his own room after ducking his head into Mikey’s room to say goodnight.

The group migrates into the living room, Tony claiming his spot right away.

“Chair!” Tony says gleefully, burrowing himself into the armchair, Ashley collapsing on the couch beside Tony and stretching out, ignoring Andy’s nudging of his legs, muttering something about Andy getting his own damn spot.

Andy eventually relents, dragging out the air mattresses he knows that Gee keeps up in the hall closet and blowing them up, the mattresses when pushed together just large enough for himself, Oli and Vic to share without being right next to each other.

Sleep settles over the house quickly, Pete latching on to Mikey like a koala bear that happens to have an excessive amount of eyeliner, Mike shooting them one last glance before catching the pillow that Mikey throws at him and going to sleep.


“I’m free!”

The hour is unholy, the light of the beginning day grey and ruthless. Oli groans into the pillow and reaches an arm out blindly to smack at Andy.

“Your turn,” Oli says, his voice hardly audible, muffled by the pillow.

Andy groans in response and begins to sit up, before groaning again and collapsing back onto the mattress.

“Pete, dammit, get back here!” Mikey whisper-yells, reaching out to catch the boy around his waist.

“No! I’m almost free! Let me go Mikey! I don’t wanna be corrupted and burn down children’s hospitals!” Pete shouts in protest.

Mikey loudly claps a hand over the smaller boy’s mouth.

“Sorry guys, go back to sleep. I got this,” He whispers into the living room.

“You better fucking ‘got this’ or I will skin you both alive,” Andy says, just loud enough for Mikey to hear.

“Yes sir,” Mikey whispers back. He scoops Pete up and drags him back upstairs, Pete struggling only the tiniest bit.

Once Mikey has made it upstairs and opened the door to his room, Mike looks up at him with a questioning glance.

“He escaped.”

Mike nods and rolls over, going back to sleep.

Mikey walks over to his bed and drops Pete on it, being forced to follow when Pete scrambles forward and grabs the edge of Mikey’s shirt, pulling him onto the bed. Twenty seconds after his body hits the mattress, Pete has latched onto him again. With effort, Mikey pries Pete off of him, keeping the boy away from his body until he makes the smaller boy promise not to get up and try to leave again. Reluctantly, Pete agrees, and proceeds to cling to Mikey as if he was the only life preserver on a sinking ship.

Mike sits up for a few seconds, just long enough to mutter “just kiss already” and then flops back down on to the pile of blankets he had claimed to sleep on.

Pete looks up at Mikey through his eyelashes, but Mikey can’t really see that. His eyes are starting to drift close, the early morning light weighing them down. With a small amount of wiggling, Pete inches forward and presses his lips to Mikey’s, pulling away with a squeak when Mikey squeezes his side.

“Go to sleep before Andy skins us.”

“See, bad people.”

“Shut up and sleep.”

♠ ♠ ♠
Me: I’ll stop it here.
Me: …… Here works too.
Me: Okay, I can’t stop it here
*5,000 words later*