Disorder

[[Okay, I know that it doesn’t seem like a whole bunch of time passed in the story, but MCR has just finished recording Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge and the tour that they’re talking about is Taste Of Chaos.]]

“Tour time, guys?” Gerard asked hopefully, shoving a suitcase with his hip. Over loading the tour van that Grandma Elena had gotten them were Ray and Matt. They were bickering under their breath, as usual. Mikey and Frank were over being idiots in the tree in front of Gerard’s house.

“Yeah, and we could leave faster if you punks helped us load the van!” Ray snarled, almost shoving Matt, but managing to make the violent push seem like the amp’s fault.

“We’re stuck in the tree,” Frank said simply, throwing a guitar pick at Ray. It landed in his hair and started to sink in, like quicksand.

Quicksand-hair groaned, “Why do you insist on throwing shit at me?”

“Because you won’t hurt me. And because it’s fun to see stuff disappear in your hair. Hey! I have an idea: I’m going to jump into your hair and see if I can recede into it. Okay?” Frank asked cheerfully, pulling out some gum and shoving about 6 sticks in his mouth. He politely offered Mikey some, who refused and gestured throwing the pack to Gerard.

“Naw, I’ve got cigarettes.” Gerard held up a box of the smokes and proceeded to light one. “Anybody else want?”

“I do,” Mikey said cautiously, hoping it wouldn’t, for whatever insane reason, offend Gerard. Lately, Gee had been more social with everyone except for Mikey. He spoke to new people, met with fans after shows and laughed at bad jokes Matt told. It had been ages since Mikey and Gerard have even been alone in the same room, much less done any proper snogging. [[I was reading Harry Potter! Yay, snogging.]]

And it wasn’t all Gerard’s doing. Mikey didn’t really initiate any ‘alone time’ either. It was as if they were just drifting apart…

“And we’re done,” Ray said triumphantly, beckoning for a cigarette. Gerard, keeping his eyes on Mikey’s forehead, threw Ray the box without giving one to his younger brother.

“So, I hear this The Used band is pretty big,” Matt said, taking the box from Ray before he could pull one out. Rather than punch Matt, as Ray looked like he would very much like to do, he just waited patiently and took the box from Matt when he was done.

“They’re not that much bigger than us. We won’t be outshined don’t worry,” Frank offered his words of wisdom. He playfully shoved Mikey, who lost grip of the tree and landed flat on his back, amidst gales of laughter from Matt, Ray and Gerard.

“I wasn’t concerned about that. I just heard they’re pretty big. It’s pretty cool that we’re playing with a well-known group, hmm?” Matt asked, still laughing as Mikey got up, rubbing his back and shooting rude gestures at Frank.

“I agree. It’ll be good to have experience with better bands. Remember Underoath? That was pretty awesome…” Ray, Frank and Matt went into a rendition of the tour with Underoath while Gerard and Mikey shared a stare. This was the first time in weeks that they had such eye contact. Mikey didn’t know what to make of it. Did Gerard want to speak with him alone? Was he just zoning out, happening to stare at Mikey as he did? But Gerard blinked and kept his eyes trained on Mikey.

“Gee, you alright?” Frank asked, breaking the stare. He looked from Gerard to Mikey and back again, raising an eyebrow. Whatever they had going between them seemed to be over, or at least Frank thought so. In fact, he hoped it would be over.

“Yeah, I’m cool. Just…spacing out is all. We gonna get going?” Gerard grinned at Frank clipping his jaw with his fist playfully.

“We should have left 12 minutes ago,” Ray announced getting into the drivers seat. The rest of the band piled into the van, taking various seating locations. Usually, Mikey sat next to Gerard, hoping to exchange some whispers, but it was long since that had happened. Instead, Mikey sat in the farthest seat available from Gerard and stared either out the window or anywhere aside from Gerard, depending on where he was sitting.

Since Mikey seemed certain on not sitting next to Gerard, Frank took advantage of that and sat as close to Gerard as possible, complaining about the lack of space.

Gerard didn’t mind. He was growing fond of the spastic, short man who threw his heart and soul into every show. In fact, he was kind of starting to admire Frank, thinking that if he didn’t suck at guitar, then he would be like Frank on stage.

“Anybody want some Taco Bell?” Ray offered, pulling into the drive-thru. The guys randomly shouted out their preferences and Gerard grumbled something about having to use the bathroom. He slid the van door open and stumbled out, going into the restaurant, leaving someone else to close the door.

Mikey got out to follow him, earning a look of distaste from Frank, which he missed. “Gee, what was that stare all about?” He called out after Gerard.

Gerard didn’t turn around and kept walking towards the men’s restroom, “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Today, before we left… you were staring right at me. And I was staring back. Don’t give me any of that ‘I was spacing out’ bullshit either, because you blinked and still stared at me,” Mikey put his foot between the door and the wall, stopping Gerard from closing it.

“Okay, look… I was seriously spacing out,” Gerard said carefully, kicking Mikey’s toes.

The latter didn’t budge, “I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t. Now get away. I’ve got to piss,” Gerard opened the door a little wider and tried to push Mikey back.

Too quick for his hands, Mikey darted them and slipped into the bathroom behind Gerard, yanking his brother back and locking the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gerard asked, shrugging Mikey’s hands off of his shirt.

“We need to talk. What’s going on? Why aren’t we… doing anything anymore?”

“You mean sexually?” Gerard crinkled his nose, unable to believe that his little brother was after that.

“No! I mean, we don’t talk anymore or anything. What’s going on?” Mikey was staring intently at Gerard, who seemed as if he could care less about this conversation. He looked around the bathroom, cringing at the low cleanliness of it.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gerard said innocently, pushing Mikey aside and heading towards the toilet. Little brother or not, he had to piss.

“Bullshit. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been like this for a couple months now, Gee. Ever since Gran-.”

“Shut up! Okay? Man…” Gerard pulled his zipper back up, watched the toilet to make sure it automatically flushed itself and went to wash his hands, “I just needed some time to think. And you’re obviously not giving me any, seeing as I can’t even piss in peace,” he grumbled, grimacing as he looked around for some paper towels. Not seeing any, he wiped them on his pants, leaving dark hand-prints on the thighs.

“Needed? Or need?” Mikey pressed, standing in front of the door in case Gerard tried to escape.

“Both. Now move.” Gerard growled, trying to shove Mikey aside.

“Why?”

“Because you’re a pain in my ass! MOVE!”

“No.”

Gerard let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed Mikey’s face between his hands, as if to kiss him. But instead, he looked directly into his little brother’s eyes, “Mikey,” he said softly, voice dripping with liquid satin, “move the fuck out of my way before you make me move you.”

Mikey blinked a couple times and moved away from the door. “It doesn’t work on me, you know,” he said as Gerard started to leave.

“What doesn’t?”

“The voice and the eyes. You don’t scare me,” Mikey said clearly, raising his chin, acting on defiance.

“Is that so? Well, aren’t we a clever little boy?” Gerard growled cynically, although slightly unnerved by Mikey’s obvious ability to walk and maneuver. Usually after Gerard manipulated someone like that, they stayed in a daze for a couple minutes afterward.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Mikey said. Gerard squinted at him and pulled the door open to reveal a stumbling Frank, who apparently was pressed against the door.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly. Mikey and Gerard stared, the latter still holding the door handle. “Is this the bathroom?”

“No, it’s where the chickens are raised,” Mikey nodded and shoved past Gerard and Frank. He threw a contemplative glance at Gerard over his shoulder before leaving Taco Bell.

Frank fiddled with his thumbs, evidently embarrassed at being caught listening at doors. “What were you guys doing?” he asked innocently.

“Mikey is being paranoid. Nothing new there. You gonna piss or are you seriously going to look for the chickens?” Gerard changed the subject, pretending to punch Frank.

“I’ll piss, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, mate,” Gerard left the bathroom and went to sit in the van with the rest of the band, not looking at Mikey.

***

“Should they have been here by now?” Ray asked Frank, stretching his arm in front of him to move his sleeve back, as to be able to see his watch.

“Leave them alone. Everyone knows it's so not cool and rocking to actually arrive on time. Gosh…” Frank said, rolling his eyes. Gerard snorted and pulled on some strands of thread off the end of his jacket.

Ray turned to Gerard, “You met McCracken that one day in the recording studio when Brian Schechter introduced you to him so he could do the screams on Prison, right?”

“Uhm, yeah.”

“Well, what’s he like?”

“He’s weird.”

“Oh.”

They were waiting for the Used to arrive so they could do the meet’n’greet before heading on tour. Already they had met some other bands they were to be touring with and the Used were the last to meet.

“I think that’s them,” stated Matt, pointing to an approaching tour bus.

“Shit, they’ve got a tour bus. That sure makes us look like shit,” Frank said, frowning at the bulk of the bus. Next to him, Gerard pulled out a cigarette and lit it, the tip ensnared in fire for a moment.

“Eh, whatever,” he said, blowing some smoke around Ray’s hair. Like it did to everything else, the hair seemed to suck the smoke in, leaving only faint wisps straggling through the air.

4 guys got out of the tour bus, shrieking rambunctiously and shoving each other. They laughed loudly and drew the attention of some of the other bands hanging out around the van parking lot. Underoath and Senses Fail came forward immediately and joined in with the loud laughs, hugging the members of the Used like they’ve known each other all their lives.

My Chemical Romance stood back and watched the reunion, shifting around, kind of uncomfortable not to be part of the happy times.

Eventually, a man with long, dark, scraggly hair broke off from the group, eyeing Gerard. “Hey man. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” Gerard replied shaking Bert’s hand, which was surprisingly soft for a guy who looked like he hadn’t even heard of personal hygiene, much less actually partake in it.

Bert gripped Gerard’s hand for a little longer than necessary, narrowing his eyes with something like a smirk bending his lips. Gerard took no notice of this and grinned back at Bert like an idiot, kind of zoning out as he did.

“Ahem,” Mikey and Ray cleared their throats. The first looked at Gerard with a raised eyebrow. Bert let get of Gerard’s hand and ran his eyes up and down Ray. He then beckoned to the rest of his band mates and proceeded to introduce them to My Chemical Romance.

“Uh, this is Quinn Allman, he plays guitar, he said, pointing to a skinny guy with blonde hair. “And this is Jepha Howard, bass,” black-haired guy with various tattoos and piercing, “And this… this is Steineckert. He plays drums,” Bert concluded, pointing to a small guy with the looks of being able to kick your ass. As he pointed to the drummer, a dull tone filled his voice and Quinn exchanged a look with Jepha.

Gerard took no notice of the little exchange taking place before him and introduced the rest of the guys. When he introduced Frank, Jepha raised his chin and grinned. Frank smiled back, scratching his neck.

“We’re gonna go down to the local bar, you guys want to come?” Bert roared to the parking lot full of bands. In return was a yell of assent loud enough to wake the dead. Bert turned to My Chem, “I’m going to take that as a yes. You guys gonna tag along?”

Ray and Mikey looked at each other, thinking of the same former alcoholic in their presence. “I don’t think so. We’ve been traveling for a while and I think we should get some rest,” Ray said, placing a hand on Gerard’s arm. The eldest’s face fell and he sighed, shoulders heaving.

“Speak for yourself, Toro,” Matt growled. “I’m in. And I think Gerard wants to go, too.”

An indignant breath let out from Ray signaled that this was not going to happen without protest, “Matt, we know Gerard’s history. Take him along and all the work he’s done will have been for nothing.”

At this, Gerard roughly slapped Ray’s hand off of his arm, “My history?" he repeated angrily, “You don’t know a thing about my history, much less my sins. If you’ll stop being my fucking mother I think I’ll go with the guys to the bar. But you and Mikey should stay here, hmm? Going to take turns wearing each others dresses and nightgowns, you pansies? Ugh…” he turned away in disgust and met Frank’s wide eyes. “You going to come or what?”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Frank said, shrugging unapologetically at Ray and Mikey, glares finding their way to Frank.

“Alright then, it’s settled,” Bert smirked and clapped his hands together. He winked at Gerard and started yelling at the pack of people waiting to go to the bar.

Mikey pulled Gerard aside for a moment, clutching his arm overly tight, “Gee, you really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Fuck you, Mikey. I’ll do what I want,” Gerard wrenching his arm out of Mikey’s grasp. As he did, Mikey’s face contorted in anger and he grabbed the back of Gerard’s neck, pulling him farther away from the group.

“No! You don’t get to say ‘fuck you’ when I’m trying to fucking help you! Do you want to become an alcoholic again and have your band watch as you spiral downward until you crash and burn?”

“I’ll do what I want, Mikes,” Gerard said, removing his little brother’s arm, making sure to give it a nice, painful twist as he did. Mikey gasped and caressed his arm against his chest.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, baby brother. I just don’t appreciate you telling me what to do,” Gerard growled, indifferent to Mikey’s pain.

“You’re a monster, you know that,” Mikey spat, breathing heavily from the injury to his arm.

Something inside of Gerard snapped. He grabbed Mikey’s wounded arm and wrenched it way behind Mikey’s head, twisting it as he did. With his other arm, he grabbed Mikey’s wrist and bent it far back, unleashing a sickening crunch. Mikey let out a howl of pain and tried to beat Gerard off with his other arm, but too lost in causing Mikey as much pain as possible, Gerard leaned close to Mikey, breaking fingers by bending them as far as they would go and whispering: “You’re the monster, trying to take over my life. Just because we’ve fucked a bit doesn’t mean anything. You’re still as much as the whore you were before I decided to grace your fucking mouth with my dick. You’re pathetic, Mikes. So pathetic and desperate enough to think that I could ever love someon-thing-something like you. You’re nothing, baby brother. Nothing. And you never will be.”

Gerard felt many hands grasp him and pulls his hurriedly away from Mikey, now on the ground, a look of terror mixing in with the pain and disbelief.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?” Ray screamed, yanking Mikey’s hoodie off roughly, causing the latter to shriek in pain. “Oh, sorry, Mikey.”

“Nothing,” Gerard shrugged, brushing off Frank’s hands casually. “Hey, McCracken! Are we going or what?”

Ray stared at Gerard in something close to horror. How can he be so fucking cool about nearly dislocating his brother’s arm? He pulled Mikey’s long sleeves back and grimaced at the sight of his arm. Already it was turning a sickly blue color and in some places, the white of the bone was so very visible, even against the already pale skin that Mikey possessed.

“Oh, we need to get you to a hospital,” Ray whispered, eyes squinting at the arm, now swelling.

Mikey groaned as Frank and Ray lifted him up and assisted him to the van.

Through all the pain, Mikey felt an underlying fear of Gerard. An emotion that he’d had plenty of experience with, but never associated with Gerard… Wincing when Frank accidentally nudged his now useless arm, a few tears swelled up in his eyes, but these tears had nothing to do with the pain in his arm.

***

Gerard ordered another drink by rapping his knuckles on the counter. The barman, fondly known as Preacher, poured him another glass of vodka, straight. Gerard downed the drink in one gulp and smacked his lips loudly, savoring the forbidden substance burning his tongue.

After making some rounds, Bert passed by Gerard’s stool, brushing his hand against his slumped back. “Hey, Way. How’s the drink?”

“Mmm, very good,” Gerard slurred, beckoning for another drink. This time, he caught Preacher’s hand before he poured more vodka and slurred something that sounded vaguely like, “Howsboutsssum bouuuuuurbon?”

Bert grinned at Gerard’s slur and asked for the same. “When was the last time you had a drink?”

“Oh, far too long. Rikey and May - I m-mean, Mikey and Ray did a fantastic job of hiding all the booze from me. Mmm, I missed this,” Gerard stared at his now-empty cup and yelled for Preacher to serve him more.

Clearly amused, Bert sat down next to Gerard and sipped from his cup. His eyes appraised Gerard’s body, thinking Perfectly drunk boy, ready and willing. “Hows about we ditch this bar for somewhere more fun?” Bert asked, rubbing Gerard’s exposed forearm.

“Like, whereish more fun than…here?” Gerard asked slowly, face crossing into confusion and looking past Bert’s head at a neon sign, his face illuminated by the sign, also reflected in his eyes.

Bert looked into the hazel orbs, tinted pink from the sign, and saw nothing but a drunken haze. No glamour, no manipulation, just a dull rub of alcohol blunting what he’d been told to watch out for.

“I was thinking my tour bus,” Bert muttered, snaking his hand to Gerard’s chest.

“Oh, I can’t do that. Mikey wouldsbe sofaawcking mad at me,” he replied, staring at Bert openly with his mouth ajar.

Taken aback by this mention of Mikey, Bert was silent for a minute, “Why does he care?”

“Why does he care? He’s my boyfriend, silly,” Gerard giggled and Bert removed his hand from Gee’s chest, mouth falling open.

“Your…boyfriend? Like, ‘let’s fuck’ boyfriend?”

Gerard pondered, “Yeah. Exactly like ‘let’s fuck.’ But I think he’s mad at me. I hurt his arm today,” said Gerard solemnly, flexing his own fingers.

“Yeah, I know. I was there. So was the rest of the bands. They’re all pretty fucking scared of you, Way. Most of them seem to think that you’re the biggest badass on tour,” Bert was unnerved by the disturbing news that Gerard was dating his younger brother. But he chose not to show it and changed the subject, wondering if it was just the drink talking through Gerard’s lips.

***

“What am I going to do, Ray?” Mikey muttered to his fellow guitarist. They were sitting in the tour van in the near-empty parking lot to the side of the hospital. Mikey’s right arm was almost entirely plastered up and it was quite the nuisance. “I can’t play, obviously. What are we going to do? Find a replacement? Cancel the to- No, we’re not canceling anything. Find me a replacement. I’ll just go home,” he finished gravely. Ray grimaced and nodded in agreement. There was no way that they were canceling the tour, but Mikey was unable to play. All thanks to Gerard. In his mind, he spit the name out venomously. That selfish bastard.

“Why’d he do it?” Ray inquired, starting the engine up. In the backseat, Frank leaned forward, eager to hear the reason as to why.

“I pissed him off, is all. He wanted to go drink and I told him it wasn’t a good idea and he got mad. You guys know Gerard. Anything sets him off and I just happened to be the closest victim. Whatever, it’s his issue,” Mikey finished quickly, looking out the window determinedly.

Ray looked over his shoulder at Frank and raised his eyebrow. Frank mirrored his move, implying that he didn’t believe that cover-up either. But it would have to do for the time being. Mikey was in pain, and soon the pain-killers would probably make him all loopy. Give it a couple days time, both Ray and Frank thought. He’ll come to.

[[Whoa, shit. It's long. Sorry for the length. Comments are still appreciated, though. Please?]]