Suffer All The Children

         He wasn't quite sure when it happened, but at some point, Mikey figured he must had fallen asleep. The van wasn't moving, but it felt significantly warmer and he could feel he'd been moved at some point. It didn't feel as hard as when he'd been on the floor. Where he was, he could feel the warm loft of the heat vent against his hand where it seemed to have been hanging off the seat.

            "Just let him sleep in the car, G. You said it yourself, he’s tanked.”

            Mikey leaned into a shoulder, and squeezed his eyes closed; Frank's voice had to have woken him. He felt a hand move so roughly over his back that it must have been Gerard's. He became aware of his brother's shoulder beneath where his head rested. It felt safe and warm with Gerard's arm around him. He wished Frank would go away. "He's perfectly capable of walking inside, Iero" came the voice from his brother's body. He didn't try to stay quiet, instead he seemed amplified. Gerard tensed angrily when Frank spoke; he was so stupid for not listening to Gerard.
 
            "G, he's sleeping, come on. Or just carry him or something. Its not like he’s heavy." There was an odd sort of crooning tone to his voice, however that seemed to anger Gerard, for he tightened his arm uncomfortably around Mikey, as if Frank's distance from them would be greater the more he constricted him. The thought of Frank must have frightened Gerard, Mikey figured, for with each stop he clung to Mikey like a small child to a blanket, finally to the point of pain.
 
            Mikey whimpered slightly and let his eyes blink open. He looked to the door of the van first, where Frank stood, looking anxious and slightly disappointed. He couldn't have managed to carry Mikey inside anyway; there was no point in his lingering. He blinked up to his brother next, huddling close in fear at the appearance of his scowl, though it was directed at Frank rather than him. Neither of the two spoke for a few moments, Gerard's eyes fixed with utmost loathing at Frank, Mikey's secured safely on Gerard's, and from the prickle of hairs on the back of his neck, Mikey could only assume Frank's were fixed on him.
 
            As Frank finally spoke, Mikey was careful to keep his eyes fixed vacuously on the collar of his brother's shirt. "Finally up, Mike?" his voice, with its usual vigor, had slightly forced tones of comfort. Mikey's eyes flicked to Gerard's narrowed pair, then back down to his collar. He felt it very unwise to answer.  However, undeterred, Frank progressed, "you getter get inside with your brother, it's late."

            Mikey could feel Frank's eyes trying to meet his but kept his gaze fixed where it had been since he let his eyes open. Frank really should have just gone inside when Matt and Ray had. Gerard's breathing was so angry and he could feel his hand tighten on his skin, away from Frank's view; he was getting Mikey in so much trouble.  He flicked his eyes up to Frank's, whose brows were raised, his lips visibly being held back from forming words. Apparently even hew knew it was stupid to implore something they both knew he could never have.
 
            "We'll be in later." Gerard's grip loosened and he knew that he'd said the right thing, "I have to talk to Gerard." He could feel Frank trying to catch his eye again, but Mikey wasn't stupid. He kept his gaze fixed; he would be in enough trouble as it was.
 
            After a few moments his peripheral vision caught Frank nod, and though he could not see it, he heard a horribly fake smile on his lips. "Alright then," his hand moved to the door, he seemed to hesitate, then moved back, stepping out of the van, "see you in a bit, I guess." He slid the van door closed and turned, then stated walking, crestfallen, to the apartment building.
 
            The brother's sat for a few minutes in silence. Mikey listened as the echo of Frank's footsteps faded away up the stairs, eventually disappearing with the abrupt slam of a door. He squeezed his eyes tight and let out a heavy breath, bracing himself.
 
            "He sure seems angry, huh?" Rather than upset, Gerard sounded amused. Gerard's arm slipped from around him and Mikey simply nodded, watching his knees this time. "Got upset when you wouldn't go with him. Strange, wasn't it?"

            He nodded again, but only just, avoiding Gerard's eyes, "I don't know… maybe you should talk to him, set him straight—"
 
            "Ask him why he's so interested in you?"
 
            Mikey's cheeks grew warm. He nodded curtly. Wasn't it his fault Frank would even think he stood a chance? He was the one who'd gotten upset when he saw him with that girl. Anything Gerard would do to Frank would be Mikey's fault. His eyes began to sting a bit again. He wasn't sure why he even cared about Frank.
 
            However, before he could let himself cry, a new thought entered his consciousness; it wasn't his fault that Frank kept bothering him at all. He hadn't asked him to take him outside at the club and he definitely hadn't asked him to follow him into the bathroom. He only very reluctantly agreed to speak to him later that night. It was Frank's own fault: whatever happened to him. It was stupid for Mikey to even bother with any guilt he could feel. Anything he felt toward Frank was Frank’s own fault. Mikey had only obeyed him like he'd been taught to do. It was surely Frank's fault if he had told him to do something Gerard would not approve of. Mikey was only doing what he'd learned to be correct.

            "Mikey," the boy felt his chin being seized, his neck craned a bit and his eyes fixed to Gerard's involuntary tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, "I asked you a question" The younger Way blinked up at the elder and shivered, he'd been much too wrapped up in his own thoughts to listen to anything that Gerard had to say.
 
            "Well, are you going to answer me?"

            Mikey searched his eyes and unintentionally let a tear slip to scale down his cheek, "I didn't hear what you said," he muttered struggling to keep eye sight with Gerard, though each orb clearly wanted to focus itself as far away from where they were as they could get. He stifled back more tears nonetheless and awaited an inevitable striking from his brother as he answered, "I wasn't listening."
 
            Like clockwork, Gerard's hand pulled back. Mikey sat and was careful not to close his eyes as Gerard hit him. He made sure to whimper to show that, in fact, it hurt quite a bit. Gerard pulled off Mikey's beanie and seized a clump of his hair, causing the usual gasps of pain and watering of the eyes. Eye contact briefly broke as Mikey adjusted to the amount of pain he was in, but Gerard quickly reestablished conversation, speaking in a rather bored tone. "Well," Mikey watched Gerard's emotionless face fighting the urge to wipe his tear-stained cheeks, "are you listening now?" The boy nodded slowly, as not to further inflict pain upon himself, and his brother continued, tightening his hand on the clump of hair in his grasp occasionally for emphasis, "Why exactly do you think Frank is so interested in you?"
 
            Mikey furrowed his brow and avoided his brother's gaze, then told one of the only honest things he would find himself saying to Gerard that day, "I really don't know."
 
            The older brother surveyed the younger for a second or two, then, when he was satisfied that his brother was telling the truth, nodded, but kept a hold of his hair, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "Well, I won't have it. I can't afford him snooping around," he seemed to be talking to himself rather than Mikey, "He's got the potential to seriously fuck things up…"
 
            Mikey nodded as Gerard loosened his grip on his hair. He was focusing a bit more on Frank than him. Mikey narrowed his eyes, livid at the lack of punishment he was getting. Surely Frank didn't mean that much. "I'll stay away." His voice was blunt, a perfect solution.
 
            Gerard nodded, and Mikey's eyes closed as he stroked his hair, "That's a good boy." He leaned into his brother's hand a bit, enjoying the sensation. "And Mikey," Gerard lifted his chin again to obtain eye contact. "Tell me if he tries to talk to you again.” He was treating Mikey a lot more kindly than usual, and caressing his hair so much more gently than he was used to, making his voice soft, "I'd really like to hear what he has to say.”
 
            Mikey nodded and leaned close to Gerard, enjoying the unusual warmth, "Yes sir."
 
            "Very good," Mikey fell forward a bit as Gerard pulled his hand from his hair. He looked up to his brother, but felt his hand tighten on his wrist instead this time. Mikey was practically dragged from the van before he could state his displeasure. He stumbled as he followed Gerard, tripping every few steps.
           
            "It turns out, "Gerard sneered, tightening his grip on Mikey to show his annoyance, "you were right about it being too crowded." He pulled Mikey up the stairs toward their apartment, as if dragging some sort of ragdoll around on his whim. "You're sleeping in our room." He explained, continuing his rhetoric through the walk. "Alone."
 
            Mikey stopped in his tracks, stumbling over himself, "Alone?!"
 
            Gerard's hand was very roughly grasped around his wrist, a look of great annoyance about him, "Yes, alone. It'd look too suspicious if I slept with you. I'm sure they've already started to suspect something anyway, what with your ridiculous bullshit at the bar."

He pulled Mikey's wrist to move him forward but was clearly loosing at his efforts as Mikey stayed planted to the spot. "I don't want to sleep alone, Gerard," He knew it was bad to do and that he would surely be punished for it, but he couldn't do much to budge his stance, no matter how hard Gerard tugged on him to do otherwise. "Why do you care if they suspect something anyway?"

            It was stupid to have questioned Gerard, Mikey knew it the second the words had left his lips. In fact, he was on the ground moments after he'd said it, regretting his slip of tongue more than ever.
 
            "Don't you ever," Gerard snarled, his fist curled back as it had many a time before. It collided with the side of Mikey's cheek, "question a word I fucking tell you." His fist flew back a few times, and collided with his brother's face with each few word he spoke, "I don't-know-what's-wrong-with you-today."
 
            Mikey's body shook, his eyes focused on Gerard's face, he shrieked as his brother pulled his fist back again, “I'm sorry!" his hands flew up without his consent to shield his face. His chest heaved and shuttered with each irregular breathe, "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, please!"

            Gerard moved Mikey's wrists, one in each hand and pinned them above his head. He was panting in anger, glaring down at Mikey, "You will be sleeping alone." He moved Mikey's wrists so that he was holding them in one hand and brought the back of his hand hard across Mikey's face. "And I'm locking that fucking door. Leave it locked or I swear there'll be hell to pay. I can fucking promise you that if I find Frank even near that door I'll kill the both of you and be fucking done with it." Mikey opened his mouth to protest, but shut it abruptly as Gerard's hand struck him again, "Don't think I'm stupid, Mikey." He jabbed his knee into his brother's side, causing the whimper that he was clearly seeking, "I can put two and two together. You've never acted like this, not before Frank showed up."
 
            Mikey nodded, mainly because there was nothing else he could think of to say that wouldn't cause him pain. He let out a dry sob, continuing to nod to show Gerard that he had won, "Yes sir."
 
            Without another word, Gerard slid off of him and pulled him back up by his wrist. He led him the rest of the way back to their apartment and threw the door open.
 
            "Hey Mikey!" The rest of the band was still awake and waiting, right in the TV room. Frank's face fell as he noticed the state in which the two brother's had entered, "Mikey what happened?"
 
            He fell silent with a glare from Gerard, but Ray stepped up, though he was clearly confused. "We were just about to have a round," his eyes grazed awkwardly from Gerard to Mikey, holding up a half empty bottle of vodka and gesturing to the five shot glasses on a side table, "to celebrate the success of our first show." Mikey's eyes fixed themselves downward as Ray looked back to him, but he felt Gerard release his wrist, "You two in?"
 
            "I don—"
 
            "He doesn't drink." Gerard finished for him, pushing Mikey forward to a vacant couch to sit, "But hit me up for sure."

As Mikey had finished collecting himself after the push from Gerard, his brother shoved him again in order to obtain room for himself.

            "Hey!" Gerard practically growled as Frank made the exclamation, but it hardly seemed to bother Frank, "there's no need to be so rough with him. He looks shaken up enough as it is!"

            Mikey was sure he'd get in trouble for smiling, but luckily Matt, the drummer, quickly averted Gerard's attention, shoving a shot glass filled to the brim with vodka, "He's right." He agreed, raising his own glass into the air, "loosen up." The other two raised their glasses as well, ushering Gerard to follow; he reluctantly moved his up to theirs.
 
            "To My Chemical Romance," offered Frank, raising an eyebrow to the rest, "The next big thing."

            "My Chemical Romance!" chorused the rest, clicking their glasses together.
 
            Mikey watched the rest of the band shoot their drinks back, each recoiling a bit as the glass left their lips—no. His eyes moved to Frank, whose glass tipped to the side, spilling his drink to the carpet of the room. He surely didn't recoil. In fact, he smiled a bit, looking very pleased as the three started to slouch a bit in their seats.

“Fuck,” exclaimed Gerard, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “What is that?”

“J-just vodka,” yawned Ray, eyeing the bottle suspiciously.

“Well, it’s gotta hell ova kick to it.” Matt stated.

“Man,” Frank chuckled, his lips in a trademark smirk. Mikey could have sworn that his eyes flashed to him briefly. “Fuckin’ lightweights. Come on. Let’s take another shot, and this time, no bitching out.”

Mikey watched, perplexed by what exactly Frank’s intent was as the latter poured another four shots, then inconspicuously dumped the liquid from his glass.

“Fuck…” Gerard murmured, his head lulling a bit. Mikey couldn’t understand what was going on, but someone else spoke and Mikey’s eyes moved from his brother.

            "To bed then?" Frank stood and collected the glasses from each of them. "I'll just put these in the sink." There was a slightly amused look on his face as he turned to the kitchen. "You wanna come with me Mikes?"
 
            "I—" The boy's head turned toward his brother, who he was surprised hadn't killed Frank for asking. "Gerard?!" His brother's head was slumped to the side, his eyes drooping closed, his posture slouching back into the couch. Mikey's eyes darted to the other two, who were exhibiting the same behaviors, then back to Frank, who had turned back toward the couch, his eyes twinkling.
 
            "Oh Mikey," He chortled, shaking his head, then turning back to the kitchen, surely to hide a smirk. "Gerard won't be up for six hours, and that's if he's a complete lush." Mikey watched him disappear into the kitchen, intrigued, his mouth hanging open slightly,
 
            "Well are you coming?" Frank called.
 
            "I—" He prodded Gerard, who slumped sideways into the arm of the couch, starting a low, rumbling snore, "Y—yeah." He lifted himself from his seat on the couch and with one last look back at Gerard, let out a deep breath and headed to the kitchen, shaking his head; Frank sure was going to be trouble.