Suffer All The Children

Mikey lay and waited for quite some time. He didn’t care much for the exact measurement of it. He didn’t bother keeping track. He was sure that he’d fallen asleep a couple of times at least. He could vividly remember attempting to open his mouth to reply to what must have been a hallucination of Frank, who he had dreamt up while out of consciousness, only to snap back to reality, thrashing his head to the side in pain as the thread pulled at his lips. He didn’t seem to get much sleep in his new box, but that suited him perfectly—dolls don’t need sleep.

A sex toy. Blow-up doll. Oh, but Gerard didn’t look deep enough. Mikey, of course, was both of those things, but he was only so because Gerard chose to use him that way. But how he’d started… as a marionette, or perhaps a hand puppet (you could certainly stick something up his backside and produce noises from his mouth), or even a delicate little porcelain doll, positioned perfectly behind his glass case as not to be tarnished by the outside world, not given the opportunity to be soiled, but left tarnished, untouched, taken out to be played with occasionally, then stuffed back to wait until he was needed again.

Gerard was right. Mikey had never really been more than a robot, more than a doll. He had always had Gerard to dress him and feed him and take care of him. And before Gerard came along, his parents, or his teachers. It was only Mikey who had realized it too late and Mikey who was stupid enough to try and leave something that he had no means or right to leave. Perhaps if he’d realized that before, he may have retained the use of his mouth at least. Been allowed outside of a wooden prison in which he was locked. But how long could Gerard possibly keep it up? There was always Frank who would be undeterred until he found Mikey.

It wasn’t to say that Frank wasn’t enjoyable, invaluable, or that anytime that he’d managed to steal with Mikey didn’t mean anything. Not at all. Mikey just viewed them as pointless, well maybe not pointless, because they were perhaps the most significant events that he’d experienced in his life. He found them to be pointless in the fact that whatever he did, he couldn’t have the sort of normal that they entailed. They were simply spurts of effort that were for no actual purpose but to be looked at like a big misunderstanding in the end.

Surely Frank wouldn’t realize this. He would remain, claiming stake in something that he was sure he could have for his own. He didn’t understand. Maybe nobody could understand. Maybe that’s why he was locked away now instead of being forced to mesh in the real world and act like something normal. Perhaps Gerard realized it before he had: grown men don’t go around with their toys in public. Their guilty pleasures stay hidden at home until the coast is clear enough to play with. They hid them well. They hid them completely and if they meant enough—they were made sure to stay safe. Frank’s efforts would be useless.

___

It could have been minutes, by Mikey’s perception, or it could have been hours, but of course, Frank did come.

He had been sleeping, or at least close to it, when several violent knocks on a heavy wooden door woke Mikey. His eyelids pulled themselves open lazily and his eyes lulled to a gap in the wood where a small amount of light spilled in from the outside room. He had found earlier that it was quite impossible to reposition or move in his situation, so Mikey simply lay and sighed, attempting to drift back to sleep listening to the noise at the door— “God damn it, Gerard! God damn it! I swear! I’ll break this goddamn door down if you don’t open it now! I swear to god!” Mikey shook his head a bit. If he could have mustered it, he may have chuckled a bit —Frank.

“Jesus, what’s up your ass today?” The bed squeaked above Mikey and he felt the frame lurch a bit as his brother undoubtedly slid off of it. He could hear him yawn, then chuckle a bit, clearly taking his time to reach the door, “Mph—and don’t say my brother, cause I don’t want to hear that shit.” But the door swung open, indubitably by Gerard’s doing. Mikey could almost hear the glare in his voice “Now what the fuck do you want?”

“You’re a sick fuck… just tell me where he is.”

Gerard chuckled under his breath, his plan must have been working perfectly, “What the hell are you talking about, Iero?”

“I’m not in the mood to play games,” there were footsteps; Frank came closer into the room. Unsurprisingly, Gerard let him pass. What better way to prove his innocence? “I know he’s in here. Where else would he be? You’re so fucking sick for doing this Gerard. This is all fucking sick. Where IS he?”

Mikey could hear the closet doors being pulled open, things being thrown off the shelves. He heard Frank make an angry sort of groan and proceed to the room adjacent to Gerard’s- the one that Mikey used to use- and rip doors open, throw things to the ground. Frank would surely become frustrated soon. He wouldn’t find anything.

Mikey heard the mattress springs flex a bit as Gerard sat on the bed above him, surely waiting and surely placing himself so that his prisoner would be much more difficult to find. There was a heave of anger from Frank, and then a crunching noise, like drywall being broken as he seemed to have put his fist through the wall in the next room over. Mikey then heard his footsteps return to Gerard’s room, he stood only a few feet away from the bed. If Mikey thrashed or kicked the wood, he’d surely have heard him...

“Where is he then?” Frank panted.

Gerard simply sighed, purposefully sounding bored, but actually clearly amused. “You’ve already searched my room and his old room. It’s pretty clear that he isn’t here.”

“Then where is he.”

Mikey only lay and wondered why he stayed idle throughout the entire thing. Earlier he’d called out for Frank to help. Why did he stay silent now? One kick to the bed would be enough to tip him off. He could still move his body enough to make a sound audible enough for Frank to hear. It was impossible to fathom what could have been holding him back. Perhaps Gerard had been right about everything.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should keep him on a leash. That always worked for me.”

“I swear to god, Gerard, if you’ve hurt him I’ll-“

Perhaps Frank wasn’t right for Mikey. Perhaps he couldn’t degrade him enough to be right for him. Maybe it was the fact that Frank was so nice to him that made him stay quiet, or the fact that he made him feel amazing that caused him to freeze. Maybe the sick fact was that Mikey Way enjoyed being treated like an animal that made him not want to be saved. It was so twisted and it was so wrong but maybe it was the truth. Between the boy who treated him like he was the best thing on the planet and the man who had just sewn his mouth shut because he had decided that Mikey didn’t deserve to speak, it was so terrible that he preferred the one that told him he wasn’t good enough to have a voice.

“Oh, you’ll what?” Chuckled Gerard, “kick my ass, kill me?”

God was it sick and wrong and twisted. And he knew it was. Perhaps he didn’t enjoy the situation, but he was being punished. He deserved it.

“The second of the two if I can manage,” snarled Frank.

It seemed an eternity ago that he had been scared of a storm and traded his freewill to Gerard for a sense of security. ‘I’ll do anything you want’ he had said to Gerard. Surely this was the ‘anything’ that he had signed up for… ‘you can sew my mouth closed and torture me, Gerard, just keep me safe.’

“That would be a whole lot scarier coming from someone I didn’t have to look down to make eye contact with, dear.”

“Don’t call me that.” Frank huffed, a low growl in his voice. He was letting Gerard get to him. He wouldn’t win that way. Mikey knew first hand; you couldn’t beat Gerard by playing into his insults. “Just tell me where he is.”

But yet, Mikey had gotten his hair pulled out that night, he was hit and slapped and he was forced to do things he didn’t want to do. And in following days, he’d been struck more, drugged when he struggled, made sick as some sort of twisted punishment. He’d been offered protection from someone who clearly harmed him more than a thunderstorm ever had.

“What? Dear? What’s wrong with ‘dear’? Your boyfriend never minded when I called him that, in fact, he probably welcomed it… one of the nicer things I’d call him by far.”

“That’s called incest, Gerard. And that’s disgusting. They should have committed you as a kid; even then you were fucked up.”

“Mm, oh yeah, talk down to me Frankie baby… I bet you get Mikey hard this way.”

“That’s not cute, and no, I don’t. Are you going to tell me where he is or do I have to find him myself?”

Gerard just shifted himself once more. Mikey could tell that he was amused; he was probably sitting back against the wall, lapping it up. “Then how do you get him hard exactly? We could compare notes? I could give you a few pointers. You could do the same for me? I mean have you ever thought of just sharing him? It’d take a lot of work out of this whole thing.” He chuckled again, surely loving the angry exhalation he earned from Frank, he of course continued, as was his game. Mikey could practically see the smirk on his lips. “Hell, we could even rent the bitch out.”

Mikey tensed below the conversation… He heard Frank start for Gerard, “I swear I’ll-“

The springs in the mattress above him squeaked. Mikey perceived an added weight on top of the bed. Constant, rash movements. “You rabid little fuck!” barked Gerard. Collisions: with walls and flesh. Mikey was sure he heard something crack, simultaneously, Frank yelped in pain. The brawl was filled with short outbursts from each party. Quick insults said through gasped breaths; it appeared that each was trying to strangle the other. It was too much to handle underneath it all.

Mikey tried to thrash, turning as much as he could and hitting anything he could come in contact to. He was ready for Frank to notice him; he couldn’t breath. But the two above him were so deep into their squabble that his efforts went unnoticed. Logically; after a few attempts, Mikey ceased his efforts, his cheeks tear-stained and stinging, his mouth pulled in considerably more pain. He lay and panted. There was more shuffling. Two additional voices were added into the room.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

“Frank, get off of him, that’s our front man you’re trying to kill!”

There was thrashing, yelling, growling simultaneous with audible struggle. “Let me go!” He could hear Gerard gasp for air as Frank growled and writhed, something was being dragged across the floor. Through the crack, he saw Frank fall face first onto the floor a few feet away. His nose was bloodied and his eyes dazed from the fall. Mikey moved his fingers to the crack in an attempt to reach out to him. He yearned to wipe the blood from his face—pet his hair back and tell him he was sorry… “That’s what I was planning on…”

Frank lay on the ground for a second or two, his eyes narrowed in hate toward Gerard, but behind that he looked tired and sad. Mikey struggled to move his fingers through the cracks further, but pulled them back as Frank’s eyes moved down, focusing much lower on the bed before he was pulled up, his arms restrained behind him by Matt and Ray. Mikey pulled his fingers back in, laying back and covering his eyes with his palms. If only there were a way out of his box to Frank.

“That’s why we’re not letting you go.” Mikey made the voice out to be Matt’s and he could hear Ray grunt as the pair tried to hold Frank back. Who kicked and struggled across the room while Mikey heard the mattress springs flex above him. “That kid’s on fucking drugs or something—“ Gerard coughed once or twice trying to clear his throat, then continued. “Just attacks me out of nowhere; now my brother’s missing? I don’t know about you two, but that seems shady to me…”

“Mikey’s missing?” the boy cringed at being mentioned, he watched Frank’s arms be pinned behind his back by one on of the two restraining him and watched the other move forward a bit as Frank thrashed behind him.

“Gerard’s behind it.” The rhythm guitarist finally seemed to admit defeat and spoke through strained breaths. Mikey saw him move his sleeve up to wipe his nose. When it was lowered, he could make out blood on the fabric, “He practically told me. I know Mikey’s here. I just want to know where he is.”

“That’s what we all want,” He could tell that it was Ray who was closer to the bed, speaking between the two, “and if Gerard does know, killing him’s not a good idea.”

“Why the hell would I know where that idiot is? He probably ran out in the middle of the road last night and got hit by traffic. I was just telling Frank how he should keep his booty-calls on a lea-“

“That’s enough Gerard.” He could hear Matt grunt in a fresh attempt to hold Frank back.

“You don’t know where he is then?”

“No. It’s not my business to keep track of him. Now you can all get out of my room. I was sleeping before this midget flung himself on me.”

“Alright then…” Matt struggled to keep a hold of Frank, “Ray can you help me get him out of here?”

“I can’t believe you’re seriously going to believe him!” The two men hoisted Frank up, pinning his arms back, forcing him to the door. Frank continued struggling violently between the two, “You’re making a big mistake.”

The mattress springs flexed again, “Did you want to stay and look around again?” Gerard sneered, “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Then prove it.” Frank thrashed again in an attempt to free himself, “And will you two get the hell off of me?” Mikey could only assume that Gerard nodded, because he could see Frank’s feet separate from the two that were restraining him. He moved closer to the bed, the springs flexed as Gerard must have moved back as well. “Tell Matt and Ray to leave. I want to talk to you one on one, no contact.”

Gerard paused for a bit, clearly interested, considering. “Go on then, you two get out of here.”

“He was just trying to strangle you Gerard…”

“Yeah, I can handle it.”

“God this is bullshit.” Ray sighed, heading out, followed by Matt in toe. “Next time, I’m staying in bed when this shit happens.”

The two of the band exited and Gerard and Frank each stayed silent for a few moments, Mikey could picture them sizing each other up. Frank must have looked ridiculous; his small fists clenched standing well below Gerard’s height, shaking in anger as he watched him.

“Well, close the door then.” Surprisingly, Frank obliged, Mikey watched his feet disappear, then waited for the door to click closed. “Lock it.” And the lock clicked.

Mikey saw his feet come back into view. He stood in front of the bed, then crouched to his knees. Mikey could see his eyes through the crack clearly, the tear-streaks on his face. Gerard sat silent as he pulled on the handle that closed Mikey in—a small metal bar quivered as he did so, holding the drawer in place. “What’s under here.”

“It’s decorative.” Gerard lied. “Doesn’t open.”

“That’s funny… hm.” The guitarist got on his hands and peered through the crack. There could not be enough light for him to see Mikey inside of it, but the boy could see him clearly. He could have touched him if he moved his hand right. “I could have sworn I saw something through that crack when I was on the floor before.” His hand moved up. Mikey could see his fingers attempt to squeeze through the cracks to the other side. “Mikey?” He lifted his to touch them, but neither fit through completely. They hovered near each other, less than a half inch from touching. He could almost feel them on his own…

“The drawers don’t open. But you’re right about one thing. He is in here.”

The mattress springs squeaked as Gerard moved off the bed. Frank sat back up as the front-man stood, pulling his fingers from the crack, Mikey moved his further to reach him. “Just tell me where he is… We’ll make up a story to where he went last night to tell the others. I’ll get police involved if I have to. You can’t do this.”

Gerard nodded, sighing slightly, as if to admit defeat… what was he playing at? “He’s over here. Come on.”

Frank got to his feet and followed Gerard from the bed. Mikey struggled in his restraints. If he could just make a noise…He pulled on his handcuffs to make a noise with them. Hopefully only Frank would hear it and take the hint.

“I found this little door at the back of my closet when we first moved in.” Gerard explained. Mikey had clearly gone unnoticed, as Gerard pulled the closet door open. The younger Way watched in horror as Frank moved closer, peering into it. He struggled with his body in an attempt to find free space. Frank still listened keenly to Gerard. “He came back last night. Wanted to talk. When we were done he wanted to leave.” Mikey had writhed and make room to move his legs, he prepared his attack, moving into any position that he could get good leverage from… “I thought otherwise, stuck him back there for—“ Mikey wrenched his legs back and knocked his knees on the front of the drawer. Frank moved back from the closet and spun around to look at the bed. Gerard growled, clearly annoyed.

“What was that?” Frank moved back toward the bed, Gerard in his wake. The rest happened very quickly.

Mikey watched as Gerard overtook Frank from behind. He slid his hand over the boy’s mouth to block any noise from it and pulled him backward toward a dresser as he struggled. Once there, the shorter man’s wrists were tied behind him, Gerard still held him at the mouth, but opened a drawer with his newly free hand, pulling out a baggie and opening it slowly; his demeanor was always bored in these situations.

“Good god, that kid never learns.” He readjusted Frank so that he was in front of him, Gerard’s arms around him from behind, and pressed a few pills into his mouth, covering his nose and mouth to force him to swallow. Seconds later Frank slumped slightly, his eyelids heavy as he lean against Gerard. It was now over and Gerard had clearly won.

The front-man discarded of the guitarist in the chair that he had tied his brother to hours previous. “Now if you’re going to fucking meddle in my business and my brother won’t cooperate, I’ll show you exactly what you’re dealing with.” He slipped a hand in his pocket to retract a key which he inserted into the lock in front of Mikey. “Sick fuck… god you don’t even scratch the surface.”

The boy squeezed his eyes tight as his drawer was opened. He wasn’t quite used to all the light. Gerard gripped the skin on the back of his neck forcing him up. His eyes tracked to Frank as he was pushed onto the bed. He lay there motionless, as they made eye contact and shivered as Frank started to sob.

“God, what’d you do to him…”

Gerard pulled on a thread that tied Mikey’s lips, causing the boy to writhe back and whimper, sighing fondly, “Marvelous, isn’t it?”

“It’s sick… it’s so fucking sick…”

“Aw…now you’ll hurt my feelings talking like that… I thought he looked just adorable. A living breathing doll… god I even amaze myself sometimes… will you just look at that?”

“Cut it open, you’ll kill him…” Frank struggled against the drugs and stood. He only walked a few paces before stumbling back and panting. The pills were the ones that Gerard used to use to make Mikey sleep. He would be out soon enough, but he still struggled, his eyes glazed as he found Gerard’s, “You’ll starve him to death with it like that. That’s disgusting… let him go. Please… let him go.”

Mikey was propped up on the bed. His cheeks flushed as he realized that he was still naked from the previous night. Gerard sat behind him, his hands feeling up his thighs and his penis, to anger Frank, he was sure. Apathetic, the boy just sat and let his brother touch him. He leaned back to his chest to show his submissiveness. He felt Gerard un-cuff his hands and position them back on him. He moved them wherever he was instructed to. Perhaps if he was lucky Frank would take it as choosing a side and be able to leave the mess.

“God, you’re right.” Mikey looked up sharply as Frank groaned from his position, sitting up in the chair. “You on your brother… it’s… well it’s sexy.”

“Is it now?” Gerard pulled his hand back, coming from behind Mikey on the bed. Frank nodded as he stood.

Mikey sat and watched the two, growling as Gerard advanced. “You know,” Frank’s eyes moved to Mikey’s for a moment or two, then cut to Gerard as he moved in front of him. He pulled at his restraints a bit then raised his brow, smirking a tiny bit. “All tied up like this… I feel so vulnerable… it’s sexy. Like… you could do anything you wanted to me and I… wouldn’t be able to tell you differently… and… you know… with Mikey’s mouth like that…” Mikey watched Frank’s eyes move to Gerard’s groin, then flick to his face, he moved closer, smirking a bit, “I don’t think he could take care of you all the way—“

“And you could?” Gerard brushed Frank’s hair back, gripping a chunk of it when he had the means.

Mikey clenched his fist as Frank nodded. It was then that he realized… Gerard had never tied his hands back up.

His chest heaved as he watched Frank offer himself to his brother: what right did he have to? He’d pay. Swooning and offering himself to Gerard while sitting in the same room as the boy that he had supposedly saved from him. Offering himself like Mikey didn’t even exist while he sat only feet away.

And Gerard. Mikey watched him trace a finger on Frank’s chin as the boy offered himself, enjoying it, loving the attention when he had Mikey that he had gone through so much trouble to have stolen back. How care he take an advance from someone else while he sat there, and especially, how dare he take an advance from someone who hadn’t belonged to him?

It was almost too much to handle… That man who claimed to be Mikey’s throwing himself at his brother. The brother that claimed Mikey was his taking the man that Mikey had claimed for himself. Each way made him furious. Frank would pay. Gerard would pay. And for once he could make it happen. No longer restrained for once, Mikey stood from the bed. He located a pair of boxer shorts and pulled them on, then opened a drawer at the bedside.

Duct tape, the needle and thread, scissors, lube… His eyes settled upon the gun that Gerard had pressed to his neck to get his blood pumping the night after he’d first been with Frank. It would be a fast method, but no. A gun would be too easy and too much noise. He couldn’t have Ray or Matt or a neighbor hear it and come up after he’d done it. That would ruin everything. He pushed it out of the way and picked up a pair of scissors, opening the blades, holding the duller of the two against his palm.

He stood, moving slowly behind Gerard. He took a small step closer, goose bumps on his skin as he listened to him court his lover. He would pay for the times that he’d left Mikey hungry for days at a time. Another step, Frank moved his lips forward, nipping at the fabric on Gerard’s jeans. He would pay for making him so dependent on him. He would pay for forcing him into addiction of sleeping with him in the same bed, then abruptly making him sleep alone. He would pay for every tear. He stepped forward. For taking his Sega. For making him his house servant.

He stood behind Gerard, watching his dirty hands on Frank. He lifted the scissors above his head and brought his hand down swiftly. He’d pay for touching the only thing that Mikey had to himself.

The man stumbled back against Mikey and screamed as the metal pierced his skin, but the sound was unappealing, so the boy simply moved his hand to his brother’s mouth to cover it.

“Holy shit, Mikey.” His eyes narrowed as Frank grimaced back. He didn’t have any room to talk. He’d be next.