Never Thought This Life Was Possible

The water makes a sucking sound as Mikey scoops it up into a cup, the pressure of the water pushing downward in a swirling spiral at the bottom. He brings the cup up with a shaking hand and dumps it over his brother's head, giggling when Gerard sputters and smacks at him.

"Hey! You're trying to drown me!" he says, a smile sneaking its way on his face despite his furrowed eyebrows and the arms crossed over his chest. He pushes his wet hair out of his face with one hand, curls the other around Mikey's arm and jerks him forward into his lap. "You butthole," he mutters. His hand dips into the water and he flicks some on Mikey's face. And, ah, here is his brother.

Eyeliner streaks down his face in black tears that kill the smile, so Mikey leans over the side of the tub to grab a washcloth and wipe the makeup off. Gerard's clean, bright face smiles up at him, his cheeks reddened from natural joy and his hair flattened down to nothing, tucked behind his ears so it's all just Gerard. 'S beautiful, and Mikey forgets to be gentle as he presses into Gerard without warning, gripping both sides of his face with desperation. His insides burst with long-suppressed joy, they twist and twist until he thinks his ribcage is going to be broken when he looks down, that it'll be a spiral like the water was. Gerard's hands trail up his back to land at his shoulders, the back of his neck and pull him forward more, and Mikey can't really think why he shouldn't be pressing so far into Gerard, but something tells him at the back of his mind that it's bad.

Gerard breathes under him, breathes into him, and they can't part yet. Just can't. He smashes their faces together harder, winds his fingers around Gerard's hair and doesn't let go.

It's only after he pulls away, seeing Gerard's eyes half-set, his lips red and pink and swollen, does he remember why he's supposed to be gentle with him. Because for a few minutes there, Gerard was only his, only his brother and lover, not whatever other titles had been tacked onto him in the last few months. It was like none of this had happened, and it was amazing and it was impossible to remember that the last four years had ever happened.

"I'm sorry," he says, distracted from his brother's dumbstruck expression by the curved skin pressing into his own. He lets his hands drop back into the water at his sides and looks down.

"Mmm for what?" Gerard asks in a blissed-out tone, shifting his shoulders so he can sink down into the warm water. It sloshes over the sides of the tub, and Mikey's heart pangs again because Gerard's going to think that he has to clean the water up tonight before it warped the floor. He leans forward again to kiss him, because seriously how can he not? But it's not the same because he's not forgotten anything. Gerard's mouth doesn't open as wide and he can't get lost, and the moment is gone.

"What is it, Mikey?" Gerard asks again in a slightly less happier tone, less patient and more erratic.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Just."

"Just?" Gerard prompts, leaning forward and Mikey bites back the urge to stop him, stop him from putting strain on himself. He knows that he's taking the protective thing too far but it's so easy to think back on all the times Gerard protected him and want to pay that back now that he can.

"Are you happy like this?"

"Mikey, as long as you're alive, it doesn't matter if I'm happy."

"That's a no," Mikey notes, frowning. The water sloshes again as he sits back against the side of the tub. "But I want you to be happy. And. How do I do that?"

Gerard's eyes go dark and he shakes his head. "We're not having this conversation. You shouldn't have to try. We've never been about that."

"It's different now."

"Because I'm not the same," Gerard mutters. "Because I have to be the girl, and you're not even fucking into girls. And you shouldn't have to try to be attracted to me." There's tears sparkling in Gerard's eyes that just make Mikey feel worse, make a chill run down his spine because sometimes he just doesn't know how to shut his mouth and let the bad things go on ignored. Gerard wipes at his face angrily. "And it's only going to get worse, because I'm going to get bigger, and there's no way we'll be able to ignore it, and then we'll have a kid to worry about and I'll have scars and you won't even want me anymore, and I don't know if this is worth it anymore!" He flings his hands out to the sides. "I'm not living in a world where you don't love me," he says logically, like there's no possible way to get around it.

Mikey thinks he's being rash. Thinks he's reading a little too much into this, but he's not, really. What it boils down to is Gerard thinking that Mikey isn't attracted to him, and sometimes it's true. When he's dressed up like a girl, he isn't Gerard, and no, Mikey doesn't feel much for him other than insanely protective. Protective of the thing growing inside of him, mostly, but him/her, too.

Okay, so what it really is is vanity outweighing love.

Mikey's stomach twists uncomfortably.

*

It's early, the sun hasn't risen yet and his alarm clock is still two hours away from ringing when he squints and looks over to check, holding the clock up to the little sliver of moonlight piercing through the window. Mikey sits up and looks around blearily for the reason he's awake. A thumping noise comes from the kitchen and Mikey rolls over to see that there's no one on the other side of the bed. He leans in, feeling the rapidly cooling warmth and curses.

The lights are on in the kitchen and Gerard's standing with his back pressed to a counter, his face tilted up to the light. Yellow shines down and casts dark shadows on his face, under his cheeks, under his eyes. Mikey wants to wipe the dark spots away. He walks farther into the kitchen, standing at the island in the middle of the room instead of going over to Gerard and taking his hand like he wants to do, like the scene that plays in his head where he just leads Gerard back to bed and they sleep.

"I can't do this," Gerard says without looking over at Mikey, and Mikey realizes that there's something fisted tight in Gerard's hand.

"Do what?"

Gerard makes a sweeping gesture about the kitchen, letting his scowl encompass the entirety of the space, hate filling it up quickly. "This. This, Mikey, I can't fucking live like this anymore. I hate this kitchen, I live in this kitchen, did you know that?"

Mikey had his suspicions. After all, dinner didn't cook itself, the grime didn't just slide off of the dishes, and the kitchen didn't always stay spotless. He moves silently, coming to stand beside Gerard and bending to rest his forehead on his shoulder.

"I knew I should have been the one that they. They experimented on."

Gerard scoffs softly. "They wanted that." His words are surprisingly harsh, filled with venom and too much to compare to Mikey's feather-light confession. "Said it would be easier if it were you because I'd spent my life protecting you, not the other way around. But I looked like the girl." Gerard takes a moment to look down, and Mikey sees the glossy reflections on his cheeks. "I wouldn't have let them touch you regardless. I wasn't going to let them operate on you when you were finally getting better."

Mikey knows that. He knows that his brother is still fiercely protective, that side just hasn't been showing up lately because it's dreadfully hard to get into danger in Suburbia. It isn't like Mikey's going to go outside and be mauled by people who know what he is. On the streets, there was that possibility. Here, in the town they have been uprooted to, where the lawns are perfect and the wives are demure and the guys are lighthearted, no one knows who they are and they have to try and make themselves fit. It's a tight fit. Maybe one Gerard can't pull off anymore.

Mikey shakes his head and frowns. "So what are you doing up?"

"Going out for a drive," Gerard says too casually. He twirls the keyring on his pointer finger and cuts Mikey a tight smile. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided that I want to go for a drive." He leans over to kiss Mikey's cheek. "I'll be back in a little while."

"Wait, what?" Mikey follows Gerard as he makes his way to the front door, not so much as grabbing a coat as his hand curls around the doorknob. "It's snowing, Gerard, you're not going out there." For all of Gerard's overprotectiveness, Mikey had him beat. Now, at least, when he's given the chance to protect him. He grabs Gerard's arm and holds on. "You'll freeze."

"I won't, and I'm going."

"You're not," and Mikey's reminded of the times as a kid when he would beg Gerard to stay with him instead of going out with friends. Drops his head a little and curls his arms around Gerard's until it's more hug than demand. "Please?"

"No. Let me go, I have to."

And that's when Mikey looks up and sees that Gerard's coat isn't even on the hanger. He's betting money that a lot of Gerard's clothes aren't in the house.

"You're leaving me," he says with no little wonder. Because, what the hell, this is what he gets after ten years of complete shit? No. No, this isn't how it is supposed to go. Gerard isn't supposed to go back on all the promises they made to each other. What happened to forever?

"Mikey--" and the voice is so tired, so resigned, Mikey starts to feel guilty. Like he's the reason they're in this whole mess, like he's only been trying to make Gerard's life miserable. But he was the one who was always sick, always needed protecting, the one who started all of this. He kissed Gerard first. If it weren't for that, they wouldn't be here. They would have wives that, who knows, they might have loved.

It is his fault.

"You can't go."

"It'll be easier this way--"

"You can't go!" His voice breaks and he bites the inside of his jaw so he won't cry. "You can't leave me, you promised you would never let me get hurt." It's not even a show. It's not him grabbing at Gerard's arm, acting miserable to get him to stay instead of running off with his friends. It's not like before. Real, it's hurting his stomach.

Another pang, because Gerard's stomach probably always hurts now, but he swallows that to turn back to Gerard and explain to him why, exactly, he should go on with this charade that has been making him be miserable and sick and lose his identity.

"You promised, Gerard," he says fiercely, hoping the words have an impact. His fists are clenched so tightly he can feel the little indents his nails are making, mouth drawn into a tight frown.

"I promised when we were brothers," Gerard growls.

It startles Mikey long enough for him to wrench his arm away and throw the door open, letting in all the cold. Mikey can't do anything but stand there in silence as his. As his Gerard tilts his head down and trudges out to his car, gets in and starts it up swiftly despite him only having driven it once. It backs up out of the driveway in a flurry of fallen snow and squeals that send shivers down Mikey's spine.

He's lost his brother. Wife. Lover. He doesn't know anymore. Lost the two most important things in his life.

He shuts the door, blank look on his face as he moves to the living room and slumps down on the couch. The light film of drowsiness hovers over his head, overpowering the pain that hasn't come yet, the reality of the situation. Maybe when he wakes up, it will all be a dream.

*

When you turned away, when you slammed the door, when you stole the car and drove towards Mexico...