Mikey hated keeping secrets, especially from his boyfriend, especially when it involved his boyfriend, and especially when it wasn't just one secret, but two.

And it was two terrible secrets: just as terrible as each other, yet one related to Ray's physical demise, and the other related to Ray's mental demise, and just what Mikey Way had been doing with Pete Wentz.

But it was just what Mikey had been doing with Pete Wentz that was the big problem, because really, when it came to cheating on your boyfriend, there was no easy way to explain it, especially not after you'd told him that he was going to die some time soon, because everyone had been nice enough to give Mikey the responsibility of breaking Ray's heart, twice.

Mikey wondered why he even bothered with friendships, and friendships built on cowardice at that, but he was a vampire and this was a town of vampire slayers and really he had little else to expect at all; he was too be feared, and people had nothing more than cowardice, and in Pete's kind of messed up case, excessive admiration, to give him.

Ray was the only person that saw past that and Ray fucking loved him, and dear god, he loved Ray too, but that had all gone to shit now and it hardly mattered at all, because the reality very clearly was that he and Ray were going end in one of two ways, but very, very soon, and he hated what was his fault, yet in turn, couldn't quite hate himself. He wondered if it was some kind of narcissism he'd inherited from Gerard, but whatever it was doing, it was keeping some sanity about him, and he had to be thankful for that, even if in the most crude of manners.

And maybe he just had to stop thinking: to stop fucking up, to stop stalling, and maybe he just had to put his dignity and anything else he might ever considering valuing about himself aside, and fuck up his life in direct consequence of the way he'd ruined Ray's, and the way, that somehow it just had to be.

Mikey didn't doubt Bert’s predictions at all, as he'd relied on them heavily in the past, but little did he know just how horribly that belief was going to come back and haunt his fucking sanity to shit. It would have been so much easier to hold onto ignorance and discard everything, and lie through his teeth about his fucking fuck up with Pete, and then continue to lie himself away into a state of insanity at Ray's graveside, because this was going to happen, and maybe- just maybe, instead of moping around regarding how to tell his boyfriend how he'd died, maybe, just maybe, he could try and stop this.

Ah, a way to avoid the problem entirely, Mikey Way, being far too familiar with cowardice, could say that he really did rather like the idea of this; the idea of running, but running away from his problems with a far too valid and a far too believable excuse - one he could even fathom believing himself, and truly, that was a terrible thing.

So Mikey left the record store in the early morning, before Ray had woken up, because he'd given up on waiting for him to wake, and he'd given up the idea of actually waking him up years before he'd even considered it, because Mikey was a coward too, and maybe Mikey was just happier not knowing that Ray had been awake for far too long, and just waiting for Mikey to say something, but ended up waiting for Mikey to leave, and sitting there in a state of confused silence as he couldn't piece anything together at all.

-

Mikey just fucking ran. He ran like he had nothing else to do, and really, he didn't.

He hadn't a clue as to how he'd would fix this, and he couldn't find a way out of this mess for the life of him and maybe, he should enlist the help of Bert or Bob or someone, but they'd know of his cowardice, and they'd know what he should have said, but didn't, and he couldn't have that, so maybe he just had to go to someone far too arrogant to even consider doing anything but laughing at the situation, and would only get involved because Mikey's emotional demise did nothing but highly amuse him.

And maybe that was precisely why Mikey didn’t make much of a habit of speaking to his brother.

Gerard, at the very least, was painfully easy to find: hanging around the stupid fucking mausoleum, because he liked the world outside far much more than the mess down below, where people expected him to actually act sanely, and not like some fucked up bloodthirsty, hormonal teenager, because beneath blood and over intimidation, that was all Gerard really was.

And as much as Mikey hated to admit it, his brother really wasn't like the rest of them, and that was made evident in the way that Gerard didn't speak; Gerard just hid in the shadows, and Gerard just listened - he saved his words for people he could intimidate with them, and even Gerard wasn't ignorant enough to actually think he could do anything about the corruption in the vampire community.

Mikey was grateful for that, at the very least, because otherwise, the both of them probably would have been brutally executed quite a while ago.

"What is it now, brother, dear?" Gerard mused, a smirk gracing his lips at the sight of his brother's rather dreary presence; Mikey was making no secret about the fact that he was ruining his life here, and really, that was what got Gerard out his sarcastic remarks and into eyes widened and intrigued, as he watched his brother sit down beside him.

"All you fucking do is sit and smoke here, isn't it?" Mikey scoffed, taking a cigarette from his brother's packet regardless, and lighting it with his own lighter, letting the smoke drift out as he overlooked the woods behind them and tried not to think of the things he knew lurked inside.

"Yeah, well, Frank's not going to be awake for a good while now, and then there's the problem of the sun and my instant barbeque esque death if I do get caught in it, so I haven't really got anything to do until about six tonight-"

"Good, because you need to help me." Mikey pulled on a grin as his brother rolled his eyes, throwing his head back against the mausoleum wall and trying not to swear in response to the fact that it hurt quite a bit more than he had bargained for.

"Hmm... I'd rather not."

"Yeah, Gerard, I cheated on my boyfriend and now his death has been predicted so I'm in the shit and I'm supposed to tell him all of this shit, and I... I basically need some help... stopping this."

"Alright."

"Wait? What? You're actually agreeing-"

"Why not? It's not like it's hard to fuck with the 'way things are supposed to be', and really, this is going to cause disaster, and that's something I've been craving for far too long now." Mikey tried his best to look past the psychopathic smirk upon Gerard's lips at that point.

"But Ray will live?"

"If we do this right, then yeah, but Mikey, I tell you now, you're taking the blame for this-"

"Stop fucking talking and help me save my boyfriend, okay?"

Gerard raised his eyebrows, getting up as he stubbed his cigarette out, muttering something about love and how ridiculous it was that Mikey pretended not to hear.

-

"Gerard, if this is like some sort of fucking virgin sacrifice shit- then I-" Mikey found himself growing ever more uncomfortable as he found himself following his brother through the shadows to an utterly unknown destination with nothing more than the hopes that Gerard wouldn't brutally murder him, simply on the premise that they were brothers. If they weren't, Mikey would have probably been long dead by now.

"No, this is me going to find my fucking book about these kind of rituals and basically finding out how I'm going to save your boyfriend for you - believe it or not, I don’t' actually have to do this. Not at all." Gerard sighed out, turning around only momentarily in order to address his brother.

"Fucking fine." Mikey sighed out, quickening his pace in order to catch up with Gerard and walk alongside his increasingly more agitated brother. "So where are we actually going? Have you thrown this fucking book down a fucking rabbit hole or something- Wait, why do you even have some dodgy ass book on rituals- fuck do I even want to know? Seriously, though like where did you even get this?"

"Stole it." His response was nonchalant, and Mikey could only let a wide-eyed 'oh' pass through his lips as he forced himself to move on and accept it; Gerard chuckled a little in response, because really, his brother was not the kind of guy to get involved in this kind of shit, and really, it was nothing but Gerard's utmost pleasure to corrupt him.

"So where are we going?" Mikey asked again, and Gerard sighed out almost instantaneously, wondering when, if ever, his brother would just learn to shut the fuck up and let him think, instead of asking fucking stupid questions all day.

"Hell." Gerard scoffed, rolling his eyes, completely ignorant regarding the fact that despite how much he wanted to keep this little house of 'his' secret, Mikey was definitely going to find out eventually. It certainly didn't seem like anyone was planning on coming back to live in it, so really Gerard decided it was the perfect place to take residence, and perhaps utilise the bedroom just a little too much for someone who doesn't need to sleep.

"Yeah, spending time with you pretty much means that I'm already there- wait, Gerard are we just fucking- are you breaking and entering?" Mikey's tone quickened as Gerard approached the house, and Mikey's brain jumped from assumption to assumption.

"No." Gerard turned back to face his brother, rolling his eyes and almost laughing it off, as he grabbed the keys from somewhere in his trenchcoat pocket. "I live here."

"What?" Gerard ignored Mikey's mini freak-out at Gerard's now apparent house ownership, and made his way inside, leaving the door open for his brother, if he ever managed to make his way in at all.

"Gerard, this is fucking vampire slayer territory, you're on the outskirts of fucking town, but seriously this is like taking up residence in Bob Bryar's butt!" Gerard cringed at the slightly questionable mental image that his brother's words brought him.

"Yeah, I'm not the one so far up everyone else's ass, Mikey." Gerard rolled his eyes as his brother shut the front door and Gerard made his way upstairs, leaving Mikey to follow him.

"Yeah of course, you're the one spending far too much time in Frank's ass, huh?" Gerard only chuckled a little at that, because, well, Mikey wasn't wrong.

Mikey cringed a little at that, but followed Gerard into the bedroom wordlessly, watching with slight confusion from across the room as his brother pulled open random drawers and continued to look rather disappointed. "Fuck, where the fuck is it?"

"There's some uhh... drawers over there." Mikey gestured to the chest of drawers adjacent to the foot of the bed, and Gerard's eyes widened immediately, his face growing a new shade of pale.

"Don't open those- I know, it's not over there-"

Of course, Mikey only scoffed, shaking his head, and far too vigorously pulled the top drawer open, only for his jaw to fucking fall right off his face at the sight before him, because really, he should have listened to Gerard when he told him not to open that drawer, because no younger brother wanted to discover their brother's sextoy drawer.

"I will never be able to look at Frank the same way again." Mikey closed the drawer.

"I found it..." Gerard added rather awkwardly, blushing just a little as he held up a battered paperback, and really Mikey had to squint for a minute, because he was expecting some sort of mammoth sized, dusty ancient tome written like Latin or something, and not something that more so resembled that library book you lost four years ago.

"Fine, that's good at the very least." Mikey sighed out, trying his best not to glance at the drawer every few minutes, but really he was having great difficultly, because there was just something about the contents of that drawer that had him uneasily curious.

"Mikey, do yourself a favour and try to stop being so fucking jealous of my sexlife will you?" Gerard snapped out, sitting down at the foot of the bed, holding the book in one hand, and lighting a cigarette with the other.

"I'm concerned rather than jealous, trust me." Mikey sighed out, sitting almost awkwardly beside his brother, as Gerard flicked through the book, stopping at one entitled 'Preventing Predicted Death'. "Seriously, where did you get this fucking book?"

"I told you - I stole it." Gerard responded, skimming over the content of the two pages before him.

"Yeah, but from where?" Mikey let out a sigh: heavy with exasperation, as he let his gaze drift off elsewhere, generally just hoping that Gerard would speed the fuck up and they could just get on with preventing Ray's physical death, and in consequence, Mikey's metaphorical death.

"Where do you think?" Gerard rolled his eyes, before turning back to the book, leaving Mikey to let out a gasp of shock as he came to realise that Gerard had stolen this from the fucking vampires, and really, one fucking little book could have cost him his life.

"Ger-"

"I've found it. Right, it's like, something to do with balance and energy and the placement of souls, therefore, with this, it's more soul specific, rather than person specific, and if Bert had this vision of it, than it's most likely murder, something someone's thinking about - you can't predict accidents, you don't plan for them to happen. Who murders him doesn't matter - you just have to keep him safe until you've given the sacrifice of another soul in a position relative to his, which... I guess, ah... so who's this guy you cheated on him with?"

"His name's uhh... Pete, why?" Mikey's voice quavered a little, just a little intimidated with all the ritual esque information Gerard was reeling off like it was nothing.

"Yeah, it's like lover for lover. Keep Ray safe and kill Pete, then you're fucking done, okay-"

"Wait no, I can't kill Pete, I-"

"Look at it this way, who would you rather died: Ray or Pete?" Gerard got up, putting the book away on the bedside table. "Make your mind up, Mikey - you have to eventually, except like this, you don't have much time at all, do you?"

-

"I can't do this, Gerard, I can't just kill him." Mikey was freaking the fuck out to say the least, and really, Pete didn't deserve this at all, and this was all so fucking fucked, but he couldn't lose Ray, and perhaps, he just couldn't barely to lose Ray more than he couldn't bare to lose Pete, and that was truly messed up.

"Whatever, I'm not here to watch you mope and whine over what you can and can't do. Either Ray's going to die or Pete's going to die - no way around that, Mikey, so you better go in and fucking poison him, or your boyfriend's going to be dead by the time you return. It's a murder either way - one way the murder isn't you, surely, but- just make your mind up, okay?"

"Gerard, please don't go, I can't-" Mikey looked up at his brother, truly scared and trembling far more than he'd ever care to admit.

"It's easy. The wine is a gift: it's believable, and he'll believe it until the moment he dies, quite literally. The poison is fast acting and it'll be over before he can even think, and your guilt isn't my problem, Mikey, you should just be happy that like this, you get to keep your boyfriend, and otherwise, otherwise, things don't work out quite like that, do they?"

And with that, Gerard faded away into the shadows, and Mikey was truly alone, and Mikey was truly scared, and clutching the poisoned wine like his life depended upon it, and not Pete’s, and he tried not to think about killing the boy he'd kissed barely a few days ago, and he tried not to think too long about the messed up world that he lived in, because really this was it.

Mikey wasn't a murderer, and he never wanted to be, but for Ray, he would be, and that was the most profound 'I love you', yet one valued only by those in possession of twisted and tortured minds.

And so, Mikey Way ruined it all, for him, and for everyone, by leaving the poisoned wine upon Bob Bryar's doorstep, with a note scribbled in marker pen on the outside - something about it being for Pete, and something like an 'I'm sorry', but discreet, so discreet and too discreet.

And Mikey was truly a coward, so as he rang the doorbell, leaving Pete to his demise, he ran, and he ran like Gerard, and he told himself for the thousandth time never to listen to his brother, even if it was necessary, even if this had just saved Ray's life, because it didn’t feel like that at all.

Mikey wasn't like Gerard, not at all. Mikey's heart was heavy with guilt, and he wondered if he even deserved a boyfriend at all, and with that he ran back to Ray's record store: he just needed Ray to be there, and he needed to cry, and he needed kisses that meant far much more than he'd ever let on, and he needed the kisses and the love he didn't deserve.

-

Ray wasn't at the record store, and Mikey was alone for perhaps far too long: long enough for insanity to creep in and long enough for him to sit on the floor visibly shaking as his head began to spin as his mind threw the worst thoughts at him: thoughts about Gerard, and why he shouldn't trust him, and the millions of reasons as to why Gerard would lie to him, and try as he might 'he's my brother' could hardly justify half of them at all.

But it was then that the silence, a prison like bubble, was broken, and Mikey Way, although reluctantly, began to live again. Ray walked through the door, and Mikey needed him, and he needed to cry and he needed to kiss his boyfriend until he could feel again, and until he was absolutely sure that Ray would stay alive.

But he didn't get what he needed.

He got wide eyes and a look that could convey nothing but the worst kind of hatred, and Mikey felt like curling up and dying, because everything was wrong, and the only answer he could put to the question 'why?' was him, and his selfish existence.

This was entirely a fuck up of his concoction, and that look in Ray's eyes, whatever it was, would ensure that he knew that all too well.

"What the fuck, Mikey?" He finally broke the silence with something other than footsteps, and Mikey couldn't respond not at all. "You cheated on me, fuck- what the fuck?"

"Ray, I, Ray-" Mikey couldn't form a sentence and he couldn't gather an explanation, and at the very least he was just all too glad that Ray was still alive, but he would never forgive him, and this was all his fault, and he couldn't blame it on Pete, not at all, especially not after what he'd done to the boy that never deserved this.

Pete didn't deserve this; Pete didn't deserve a fucked up world like this, and really no one did, but especially not someone so fucking naive.

"I was at Bob's, you know. He fucking told me all Bert had told him about you kissing Pete, and fuck, why? Why the everloving fuck? I hate you. Mikey, why the fuck? And then what's this 'I'm sorry'? Where's my 'I'm sorry'? Where the fuck is it, huh? I drank his fucking wine, you know, he doesn't fucking deserve that shit and neither do you, so thanks for the fucking wine, you know. It kind of tasted off, but I drank ever fucking last drop."

And as the pieces fell into place, Mikey's heart fell apart.

Because Ray did have to die after all, just at his hands.

And almost as if on cue, Ray fell to the floor, choking, eyes bulging out of their sockets a little, and Mikey couldn't look, closing his eyes and letting his heart fall into a million pieces as the struggling stopped, and the room fell to silence once more.

- 

Hey guys;) This is dedicated to Charr, because she's seventy four years old today and I present her and you all with character death as a celebration of this fact, but come on, it's me and nobody's died yet. That's like the third character death this week, I'm on a roll, to be honest:') Votes and comments are appreciated as always, and I love you all<3