Mikey wasn't focused at all, entirely fixated upon the goings on in his own head, and not the world around him, however, it seemed that Pete was paying enough attention to Mikey for the both of them.

In fact, it was almost as if the fact that his boyfriend hadn't done more than nod vaguely in his direction for the last twenty minutes had any sort of affect upon Pete. Then again, Pete could quite easily keep up conversation with himself and himself alone for up to three hours, and well, Mikey knew that firsthand.

And still, Mikey didn't blame Pete at all, hell, he reckoned he couldn't blame his boyfriend for anything until the day he found the courage to actually tell him that he was a vampire, and dear god, how had Pete still not noticed, that Mikey didn't and perhaps would never know.

Pete was definitely 'special', but definitely cute too, Pete was very, very cute, and he acted as if his whole world revolved around Mikey a lot of the time, and there was nothing quite like that.

And well, Mikey was kind of involve with Pete too, but he wasn't in any rush to admit that, nor was he in any rush to tune back into the conversation, because okay he loved him, but he didn't quite love him enough to hear him go on and on about his very very emo music taste.

Pete and Gerard both shared this awful habit of finding great pleasure in unintentionally annoying the fuck out of Mikey, however, he was actually beginning to suspect that when it came to annoying him, Gerard wasn't doing it quite so accidentally before, especially with this whole mess with Frank, because Mikey knew they should just stay out of it, and he'd reiterated that to Gerard more times than he cared to remember, but still, Gerard practically lived up that guys' ass.

That guy who'd set a building on fire and killed four people, and still managed to look like an angel to Gerard, Mikey didn't trust that at all, sure, Ray had been insistent that he wasn't sure of what he'd been doing, but still, it fucking took a lot to kill four people, and the kind of person capable of that was not the kind that Mikey wanted to be even vaguely associated with, and as much of an ass as his brother could be, he didn't want Gerard to die in some form of burning building incident, of course, it took quite a lot of work to kill a vampire, but Mikey was certain that magic that strong would have absolutely no fucking problem.

Sure, perhaps, Frank wasn't inherently evil, after all, he was about two foot tall and it was really hard to be intimidated by hobbits, no matter how many people they'd killed, but Mikey was dubious, and overly cautious, and Gerard seemed entirely too close to him - it was unnerving, or perhaps Mikey was just jealous in some way, although there was no chance he'd ever even consider admitting the later, so he just set the former in stone in his head, and that was that.

It was then that he practically had a heart attack as Pete pressed one hell of a sloppy kiss to his lips, and Mikey seemed to fall back into reality and break about ninety percent of his skeleton in the process.

"You zoned out," Pete added as explanation, "you might have died, I needed to check- you're quite cold, are you ill or something? Like a cold, because you're cold?"

"Yeah, probably," Mikey shrugged it off, leaning into Pete's side, "I feel a little tired, you know?" He continued, wondering just how nothing in Pete's head was screaming 'oh yes, my boyfriend is freezing maybe I should give a shit about that', but then again, Pete certainly had a very special way of thinking, and then again, perhaps that was just why he loved him.

"The story of my life, to be honest," Pete nodded, pulling his arm around Mikey, "is anything up, though? Anything you want to talk about?"

Mikey paused for a moment, thinking over Gerard and then Frank, and just how to change the story slightly so it would be something he could relay to Pete, "well, my brother got really close to this guy really quickly and I don't really know about this guy, I just don't really want them to spend so much time together, because I think he's a bad guy. I don't really know how to explain it."

"Why is he bad?" Pete asked, of course, he fucking asked, and Mikey wondered just for a second what Pete would say if he told him the truth... assume he was joking, of course - that's what he often did, especially when Gerard went up to him and asked him what the tastiest blood type was, which was something he did seriously far too fucking often.

"He's just, dangerous, I guess, I don't know, he did some bad shit, but I don't know if I can really tell you about some of it, like you get what I mean?" Mikey bit his lip, forever finding himself surprised by Pete's willingness to take anything he said as gospel.

"Yeah, so is Gerard just not having it? Because he can be quite stubborn, he's a cool guy, bit weird, he keeps talking about blood all the time - what's up with that?"

Mikey let out a sigh, shaking his head and suppressing the urge to stab himself as he let out a defeated, "I have no idea, it's just Gerard."

"How about talking to the guy yourself and see what you make of him and what he makes of it? I mean, he might be a cooperative asshole, you could always just hope for the best!" Pete's face lit up into a smile, and Mikey continued to stare in wonder and confusion.

"Yeah, or I could just live forever in angst," Mikey shrugged, "either is good."

"God, Mikeyway, you're so emo." Pete pressed a kiss to Mikey's lips, "and I love it!"

-

Frank's sleep schedule was completely fucked in the ass, and well, that was what he got for hanging out with a vampire, and even going as far as to turn himself into a social recluse for said vampire, because as much as he knew that this was about him, about this fucking magic, and about Gerard doing his best to help him through it, Frank knew for certain that the main reason he was so focused on this all, and the reason he found himself up reading old spellbooks at night was genuinely for no one other than Gerard and the smile on his face when he asked Frank about what he'd read.

Frank was perhaps just a little infatuated with Gerard, not that he was in any form of hurry to admit that, of course, and was in fact more than seriously prepared to keep lying to himself and everyone around him for as long as humanely possible.

It wasn't like Gerard was doing any harm, and it wasn't like spending time with him wasn't benefitting Frank, and it wasn't like he could just ignore this mess and the one person who might know how to fix it, could he?

Of course, he could, he just wasn't going to. Because Gerard was cute, and cared about him, and Frank needed someone like that, regardless of the circumstances and the way his head had an awful habit of spinning whenever he was around him.

And the fact that he found himself making his way into Gerard's room at one in the morning, was again, of course, entirely normal and solely for the purpose of concern for what was happening to him recently, and not because he couldn't sleep, and he reckoned that curling up with Gerard as they talked, or watched some shitty TV, or even anything, would definitely be a better alternative to lying in his bed and letting the terrible thoughts at the back of his mind creep into his consciousness.

"It's fucking late, Frank." Gerard had commented as he'd opened his door and looked Frank over, before, of course, letting him in without further question.

"You're still awake." Frank found himself commenting as he shut the door behind himself, "so it's not like I was bothering you."

"You're never bothering me." Gerard flashed Frank a smile in the darkness, his hand finding its way to the light switch and flooding a little more light into the room, "sorry, I'm just so used to sitting in the dark - that must be really fucking annoying for you."

"It's not annoying enough to convince me to leave you alone for more than a couple of hours, don't worry." Frank laughed a little, a blush flooding his cheeks, fully visible in the new level of light, which all so did a great job in highlighting the mess Gerard's room was in.

"I don't think I'd want that," Gerard smiled a little, gesturing for Frank to sit down on the sofa with him. "I like talking to you, Frank, I really do," he continued, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to remember just what he'd actually been doing before Frank had arrived because he found himself genuinely unable to recall that information the very moment he'd really laid his eyes upon Frank, which was perhaps vaguely concerning, but Gerard had this wonderful habit of brushing things off, so by that logic, everything was indeed perpetually okay, despite the four girls, one of which was Jamia Nestor that had died, and despite the fact that the boy beside him had caused it.

"Thanks," Frank stuttered out, finding himself leaning into Gerard without much thought required. "I like talking to you too." He continued to add, closing his eyes a little, suddenly feeling so much more at peace in Gerard's presence, and of course, again for a reason he wondered if he'd ever quite place: a reason he wondered if he'd ever quite need to.

"We can fix this," Gerard continued, brushing Frank's hair from his face, "I've sent Lindsey a text, and she knows things, and I can fix this for you, you can get your girlfriend back and everything can be okay again-"

"It won't be, though," Frank let out a sigh, "okay, I mean. It's never going to be like it used to be, it's never going to be perfect, in fact, it never was perfect, but it's going to be different, and I have to accept that, and I want her back, but I just don't know if she would want to even acknowledge my existence again, I mean, I killed her. That's... that's... fucking serious, Gerard."

"I know, and I'm sorry," He let out a sigh, "I'm so fucking sorry, you don't deserve this mess, Frank, you didn't mean to cause it, and everyone, Mikey in particular, has you set out as this villain, and I hate that, because you just didn't know, you didn't know what you were doing, you're not an idiot you just... just were naive, and by no fault of your own. Someone should have told you, someone should have fucking worked you through all this shit before it could happen."

"I know, Gerard, I do." Frank stressed, letting his head fall into Gerard's lap, "and there's nothing you can do about what didn't happen, especially not now, and that's fine, because it's not your fault, and you're trying your best."

"Hmm..." He let out a sigh, "I just think about this a lot, and well, I'm trying to find a solution here, so like, you can't blame me-"

"I'm not blaming you!" Frank exclaimed, laughing a little, "I'm doing anything but that. You're like the best person in all of this, you're like an angel instead of a vampire, honestly."

"You're just saying that because I'm not living up to your vampiric expectations, like I could drain your blood if that would make you feel better-"

"You wouldn't." Frank smirked a little, letting out a sigh as he closed his eyes, properly now. "You wouldn't dare."

"Goddamn it, you're horrible to me, I swear-"

"What are you talking about, Gerard? I'm lovely."

"That, yeah, you are."

-

A park.

Somewhere familiar, yet unplaceable.

Dark.

Ten, perhaps eleven at night.

An odd smell in the air, weed perhaps.

And a step forward, the world spinning - definitely weed.

And the swings.

The swings at the park before him: empty, swinging, in motion, yet empty.

And then not.

With another dizzy step, a girl on one swing, and the other coming to a stop, and the world around her fading out as if to compensate, as if to focus, his whole world beginning to fixate upon her.

She gestured, not with her hands, but with her eyes: eyes that seemed to shimmer, glisten, and burn: eyes like a fox's in the dark - captivating, intimidating, and a million reasons to run, but a million more with every step closer, every step light headed, and every step still smelling pungent of pot, and his head racing, pounding: flashes of something else, light and sound, and children, familiar, but never long enough to recognise.

Her eyes followed him as he found himself making his way to the swing beside her, his feet moving with a lack of interaction on his part, and her eyes never leaving him nor diminishing in brightness as he sat down beside her, and again, as if on its own, the swing he sat on found itself in motion: in time with the girl beside him, the girl with the eyes, never blinking, unnerving, like headlights perhaps, but almost artificial in nature - never giving off light, only drawing you in.

"This isn't the place I'd pick," her voice was unexpected, firm, yet inviting, speaking with somewhat of an accent - something Frank couldn't quite place, her tone was casual, her words nothing more than a vague comment with very little intent behind them, but still every word uttered from her lips holding worth and power of a uncertain origin. "You didn't pick it consciously, though, so I can't really put this all on you, so this is me speaking to the voice at the back of your head and telling it to get over it."

"Get over what?" Frank found himself asking, words tumbling from his lips before he could think.

"This park and what happened here - what happened with him when you were sixteen, seventeen? I guess, I can only see it in flashes, whenever you start to let it slip and you start to let me see-"

Frank's eyes widened a little as he finally became conscious of this place and what it meant to him, and in turn what she could see of it. "That's- you can't- no, that's private, this happened, this is- this is my memory and I don't want you to see it, you can't fucking see it-"

"Then you should stop letting go." She continued, her tone a little too nonchalant, "I didn't pick this place. You can keep me out, out of that part of your head, if you had the power to get me in there in the first place then you can sure as hell get me out."

"What?" Frank exclaimed, finding himself a little short of breath as he looked over the girl beside him, finally pulling his gaze away from those eyes long enough to notice dark hair down her back, and a dark purple on her lips, her clothes dark in colour but otherwise nondescript in nature. "What are you talking about? Who even are you? What's going on?"

"I thought you would have figured something out by now," she let out a sigh, kicking at the tarmac with her combat boots, "but he did say you really didn't know what you were doing."

"What do you mean? Who?" Frank suddenly glanced around him, before coming to a slap in the face kind of realisation, "I'm dreaming, aren't I? I'm dreaming right now-"

"Not exactly. You're asleep, yes, and your mind is working in much the same way it does when dreaming: there's this world around us, there's this park, subconsciously picked by you, but you and I are not part of this dream, this scene in your head: we're pasted in, so to speak, using this place as a medium, this place that's not quite real, but real enough in order to converse. Because that's what I want to do, Frank, talk to you. That's all. And I wanted to see for myself, these powers of yours, and he really wasn't over exaggerating, and well, Gerard does have a habit of getting overexcited sometimes-"

"Gerard?" Frank exclaimed, his head struggling a little to wrap its way around things, "Lindsey?" He found himself asking, "how the fuck did you get in my head, I- I... I..."

"Magic can be awfully useful if you know how to use it, disastrous if you don't, but I imagine you figured that out by yourself, didn't you?" She brushed her hair away from her face, "you're doing better now, I can't see the people anymore, hear them speaking, smell that fucking pot - that's the memory, that's what isn't real. That's what you've got to be careful with when it comes to dreams, ones like this in particular, this a fine line between what's real and what isn't, but that line is the most important one you'll ever know."

"I'm kind of scared and very confused," Frank admitted, letting his gaze trail around the park, around the world he'd once known age sixteen. "Shouldn't you have to ask to just walk the fuck into my head whenever you want?"

"You can just leave whenever you want: kick me out of your head, get out of this park, but you've got to be careful, careful that you leave to the right place, that you get back to reality, and not this place inside your head, because when it comes to 'normal' dreams, your head tends to do that for you. That's why I'd recommend you keep me here, because I can get you back safely."

"Are you going to meet me properly?" Frank asked, "I mean, can you teach me things inside my own head?"

"Of course I can, surely for things you need in your head you'd want to learn in your head," she smiled a little, "and no, not for a while, I told Gerard I'd talk to you though. I reckon he thought I'd call you, though, but no, I'm much more inventive than that."

"So I can talk to Gerard about this, I assume?"

"Of course you can, just don't expect that he doesn't get worried about you, and that he doesn't fuss immensely, because he can and he will. He means well, though, he cares about you, and he's got a point, because although you did it, it wasn't your fault..." she paused, "the fire, that is-" She suddenly flickered in the swing beside him, the world flashing: bright, smells, people, voices, birds, a world, and then normal, "I've got to go, I'm sorry, so do you."

"How do I get back safely?" Frank asked, beginning to panic all over.

"You go to the gate, or the door of the room you're in: the exit, basically, it makes itself obvious most of the time, and as you walk through it, you close your eyes, and you focus upon something real, something grounding, something that's tying you back to reality, and you hope for the best, you'll do-" And with that, Lindsey appeared at the gate, her form flickering as she made her way through it, leaving Frank upon the swings, the skies opening up to a thunderstorm above him, and then, alone, he saw himself: sixteen, and that boy he'd loved at the time, and the pot they'd smoked, and the jokes they'd told, and the boys on the horizon, from school, the ones who'd beat them up right then and there, and the blood on the tarmac, not quite there yet.

And with that, Frank was running to the gate, shaking all over as he grasped it focused on the first thing that came to mind: Gerard.

-

hey buds !!!! how're u all ??? i hope ur o k !!! lov u !!! votes &&& comments would be cool!!!!!!! lov u !!!!