I Wasn't Asking for the World

Mikey had the letter he had received from Frank only hours before, stored safely in the pocket of his denim jeans. It was already crumpled and the ink was smudged from tears. Mikey wasn't taking the news well.

He had gone against what Frank had said in the letter and tried calling him but all he would get was his voice mail. It had seemed to knock his sense out of him.

He'd dropped out of university and was now on his way back home to live with Gerard again. He'd been living in the dorms but since that was now impossible he had no choice. It's not like he wouldn't be welcome, he went back to Gerard's every holiday; it was still his home too after all.

His mind was buzzing with a lot of different stuff. Mainly questions about Frank and about what the heck he was going to do now. He'd just thrown away his mapped out future. He had nothing to show for the last two years. He'd wasted everything with only a well-written letter to the university.

It wasn't long before the bus was pulling up to Mikey's stop and he dragged his entire luggage off and started the short journey to the apartment. It had started to rain heavily and the wind was strong, making everything around him acquire that familiar smell of water, slapping against the hot concrete and tar, that moist sort of smell. The rain and the smell strangely reflected Mikey's mind and mood and made him feel quite comfortable and at home. He wasn't quite sure how and why, but it did.

It wasn't long before he was walking through the door, and trying to creep to his room without Gerard noticing he was home yet. Sure he wouldn't be able to hide in there for the next year and a half, and pretend he had been at university and graduated, but he wanted to at least change out of his wet clothes and tidy himself up a bit, before he revealed himself.

Unluckily for him, one of his suitcases got caught on the door and made an awfully loud scraping sound, alerting Gerard, who had been in the kitchen fixing him self a sandwich. He armed himself with the bread knife, still with margarine on it and went to investigate.

Mikey cringed and looked at Gerard, slightly doe eyed as he came rushing into the hall holding the bread knife, raised in protection. Gerard froze when he saw Mikey standing by the door, dripping water on the beige carpet, his eyes puffy and his nose red, which could have been from the cold rain and wind, but Gerard had a funny feeling it wasn't.

"Mikey? What are you doing here?" Gerard asked. Mikey continued to just look at Gerard, biting the inside of his cheek and holding back the tears that were creeping up on him.

Gerard noticed and quickly put the bread knife down on the table that the telephone sat on. He then wrapped Mikey up in a hug, ignoring how wet he was and deciding then, wasn't the right time to ask what happened.

Mikey silently cried into Gerard's shoulder, the only signs that he was crying at all were his shaking shoulders and deep gulps of air. Together they stood in silence, Gerard's brotherly instincts kicking in immediately, knowing just to be there and let Mikey get it out of his system before asking what was going on.

Neither of them knew how long they stood there for but it was long enough for Mikey to calm down and for his hair to start to dry off. Eventually they broke apart, Mikey letting go first because Gerard didn't quite know when Mikey would be ready.

"Come on. I'll help you get your stuff into your room," Gerard said softly, picking up some of the luggage and starting to drag it down the hallway towards Mikey's room. Mikey mimicked Gerard, dragging the last pieces with him.

They pushed the suitcases aside and Gerard sat down on Mikey's freshly made bed that hadn't been slept in for a good few months. The whole room felt stuffy from the door being closed and with the heating being on. It smelt strange and stale, which made it obvious the room wasn't occupied.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Gerard asked with his eyebrows raised as Mikey slowly makes his way over to his bed.

More out of habit than anything else and forgetting that Gerard didn't understand, he started to sign. It felt right and like that was the thing he needed to do at that moment. He had just lost the one thing that had helped him talk. It was natural for him to go back to signing.

"Whoa! Wait a minute, I don't understand," Gerard said. The statement had two meanings. He didn't understand sign language, and he didn't understand why Mikey had gone back to it.

Mikey stared at Gerard, his eyes brimming with tears again and swallowed hard. He looked around, spied a note pad and pen on his desk and grabbed it. Shakily he scribbled what he had previously been trying to sign.

Frank broke up with me. I don't know why and I can't get hold of him. He won't answer my phone calls. He only sent me letter to tell me it wasn't working out. It wasn't even in person.

Gerard read the note and bit down on his lip before hugging Mikey again. Mikey didn't cry this time he just reveled in Gerard's comforting grasp, glad he had someone around to hold him and care for him. Even though it wasn't whom he really wanted.