Getting Surreal

“Mikes, we need to be down at the bus in-oh.” Gerard interrupted himself midsentence as he walked into what was originally supposed to be his and his brother’s hotel room and saw his brother on the bed with Becks laying on top of him and looking very much like they were about to kiss.

“H-hey, Mikes. Becks.” He nodded awkwardly at the pair. Becks buried her face in Mikey’s shirt, and if looks could kill, Gerard would have been a dead man the instant his brother’s eyes laid on him.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and stillness as everybody took in what was happening before Gerard cleared his throat and said, “I’ll, uh…” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the door, “I’ll be in the hall.” And with that, he walked out of the room and braced the door so that it shut quietly.

---

Once he was out in the hallway, Gerard leaned his back against the wall of the hallway and tilted his head back, letting out a huge sigh and stared at the ceiling for a moment, replaying everything that just happened in his head. When his memory made it to the look of sheer loathing his brother had given him, Gerard groaned and he buried his head in his hands, the only thought in his head being, ‘I just fucked this up for Mikey’.

He hadn’t meant to barge in, really. It was just that Brian was only giving them a half hour before bus check and the only two people he hadn’t seen getting their crap together were his brother and Becks, and he was nervous that maybe they were taking so long because of her being unwell, and he really just wanted to make sure that she was okay. He hadn’t even thought that they would have been, well…finally embracing what everybody had been thinking about them since the pair had met and that maybe they were finally going to get together.

How could he have not thought…

“Idiot,” Gerard groaned to himself, his head still in his hands.

Just then, the door opened and Gerard dropped his hands to see Becks walking out of the room. She shot him a shy smile, then continued off down the hallway in a quick sort of shuffle. When she was out of view, the door opened again and Mikey stepped out, his suitcase in his hand and his bookbag slung across one shoulder. He stopped and set his suitcase down on the ground when he saw his brother and crossed his arms, waiting for him to speak.

Gerard pushed off the wall and took a step towards him. “Mikes,” he said, his tone dangerously close to an apologetic whine. Mikey just looked down at him, anger and frustration making every line in his face hard and stiff. Gerard sighed and looked down at his feet. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…I….Fuck, man.” He trailed off, unsure of what to say, and chanced a look up at his brother. Mikey had his head angled down, his eyes shut, and a hand running flusteredly through his hair. Gerard huffed out a little air, then spoke again, his voice a little lower. “I didn’t know you guys would be….” Again, he trailed off, having no idea what he could possibly say, and the two stood there silently, both staring at the ground for the next minute, as if looking for answers.

Finally, Gerard heard Mikey let out a slow sigh and looked up.
“It’s fine, Gee” he said quietly, still staring hard at the floor. “I, uh…” he cleared his throat and finally met his brother’s eyes. “I know.”

Gerard felt a rush of relief and pursed his lips in a small smile, looking up at his little brother and nodded pointedly before leaning forward and grabbing Mikey’s suitcase for him, then leading them down the hall.

---

Becks was still flustered when she climbed on the bus, seemingly unable to let out anything than vague noises in response to her friends’ greetings as she made her way straight to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup in the largest mug she could find before wedging herself in the seat at the table between Bob and the wall for Brian’s morning meeting. When the Way brothers showed up a few minutes later, Becks kept her head down, staring intently into her coffee, effectively avoiding any eye contact or interaction.

“All here?” Brian’s voice chimed. “Good. Okay, then. Today, we’re headed to –“

But Becks’ head wasn’t in the meeting at all. Her body may have been there, but her mind wouldn’t stop drifting back to waking in Mikey’s arms twenty minutes prior and all the things he said, and how good it felt, and -

Bob shot her a funny look as she tried to suppress the really weird noise that emitted from the back of her throat as she realized what she’d almost done.

She almost kissed Mikey. She’d Almost. Kissed. Mikey.

And it wasn’t like last time, a time she’d been trying real hard not to dwell on daily, even though she’d just written it off as…as some sort of fluke.

No, this morning, she knew, deep, deep down and she couldn’t deny it:

She’d wanted to kiss Mikey.

Without a shadow of a doubt, she’d wanted to kiss him. If she didn’t know anything else, she knew that. Becks wasn’t exactly sure why (though, she had a strong feeling that it might have to do with how he always cares for her, is always there for her, and the way he was talking to her…and he really, really isn’t bad looking….), but she just knew.

Did she still want to kiss him? She furrowed her brow and frowned deeply into her coffee, as though it would have all the answers.

Her head was already spinning and she hadn’t had enough coffee yet to start tackling the big questions in life, so she decided to shelf the thought until later and tried as hard as she could to focus in on the rest of what Brian was saying.

---

And hour and twenty minutes later, and Becks was sitting under a small tent at the next venue, tuning Frank’s guitars. She was just about to start work on his pedalboard, when she heard somebody call her name.

“Oh, hey, Gee,” she said quietly but kindly, a small flush breaking out on her cheeks, when she looked up and saw the singer ducking under the tent with her and seating himself casually on the amp across from her. “What’s up?” It came out coolly, but she was a little nervous that he would want to talk about…what he walked in on a few hours earlier.

“Uh, nothin’,” he brought a hand up and ruffled the back of his hair, looking around for a moment before finally settling his eyes on hers and asking, very pointedly, “Are you okay?”

It was so unexpected and Becks could have whimpered. What was is with these fucking Way brothers and their capacity to care so deeply and show it so blatantly?

Instead, though, she sighed smally and laid the guitar in her hands down across her knees, her fingers busying themselves toying with its strap as she looked up at him and mustered up the tiniest smile.

“I’m okay, I…” she paused, glancing down for a second, then back up at the singer. “Thank you.” When a flash of confusion crossed Gerard’s face, she elaborated. “For trading rooms with me, I…that was…” she let out an exhale of frustration at (she would blame the touchy subject for it) not being able to find the right words, finally just settling on, “thank you.”

Gerard did his best imitation of Mikey, his face completely blank and neutral as he nodded slowly.

“Of course.” He said, like there hadn’t even been a second thought as to whether he would’ve switched his room for her or not, and Becks’ lips twitched up in a fleeting, appreciative smile.

They fell into silence, then, and it was a heavy one. Becks could feel the tension, thick in the air, and looked down at Frank’s guitar in her lap, running her hands down the neck, her mind casting for something, anything she could say to break the silence. She was just opening her mouth to talk (she wasn’t sure quite about what, but she needed to end the deafening quiet), when Gerard finally spoke again.

“You should really get it checked out, Becks.” It was said so abruptly and with such a ‘to the point’ manner that Becks’ eyes shot up and she looked in surprise at Gerard. He was staring down at his feet, though, his expression nothing but serious.

Becks did her best impression of a goldfish for a moment, opening and closing her mouth, knowing exactly what he was talking about, but not quite wanting to admit to it.

Sensing this, Gerard spoke again. “These panic attacks. They…” he leaned forward a little bit, lowering his voice as if to make the conversation a little more private under the empty tent, “have you had them before?” Unable to speak, Becks just nodded slowly, and Gerard hummed. “Okay,” he nodded, too. “Did you-did you get help for them?”

Becks didn’t answer immediately, bringing the two into another silence, and Gerard realized he might be overstepping some bounds. He was just opening his mouth to apologize for it, but it was only because he cared for her and wanted to make sure she was okay, when she finally spoke.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. Gerard froze and looked at her, waiting for more. After a moment, Becks swallowed thickly then continued. “I, uh…I used to get them all the time. They’re usually manageable, but,” her brow furrowed and she was staring at the ground unseeing, “sometimes…sometimes, they knock me down, ya know?” She took a deep, shaky breath. “I never got help, though.” She gave a quick shrug. “They sucked, but…I managed and then…I dunno…they kinda just went away.”

Gerard’s brow was furrowed, now. “But…Becks.” He leaned forward towards her and she looked up, a small look of fear in her eyes, and it occurred to him that this might be the first time she’d ever spoken about her anxiety. “You…the panic attacks you had this week, those aren’t normal. They’re not good.”

She sighed and let out a tiny little ‘I know,’ that had Gerard shaking his head in frustration.

“Becks,” he breathed her name and the caring tone on his voice had her looking up at him. “You need to get help.” She let out a tiny sound that was reminiscent of a scoff, and Gerard realized that he should change his tactic. He paused for a moment, thinking, then said, “You know who’s always struggled with anxiety? Like real bad?”

“You?” She asked quietly, expecting his answer. But he shook his head.

“No. I mean…a little, I guess, yeah. But no.” He watched her closely for a moment, taking in her furrowed brow, her hands bunched up on top of the guitar, the way she looked tired and a little bit scared and hoped she would take his advice for her well-being.

“Mikey.”

Becks blinked and looked down at the ground for a second before looking back up at the singer. She knew Mikey had anxiety, she’d known from the start of tour; the way he had to drink away his stage nerves was a dead giveaway for her. But she just never thought….

“Yeah,” Gerard said quietly, nodding his head as he could see the thoughts running through her mind. “Ever since we were kids. We’ve both dealt - fuck, I’m still dealing with depression, but…we’ve both had anxiety. Mikey’s almost….” He trailed off, his eyes narrowed in thought. “He almost quit the band early on, before we started playing out because of it. So, don’t…” he stood up and walked up to Becks, causing her to look up at him from where she was still seated, “don’t think you’re alone in this, okay?” Then he added, his voice almost soft enough to bring tears to Becks’ eyes, “If anybody can understand, it’s him, and…we just want you okay. We care about you.”

With that, he gave her a small, somber smile before turning on his heel and left, leaving a whirlwind of thoughts through Becks’ mind and a stir of emotions in her chest as she stared after him.