(inspired by the tweet where bob shithead bryar calls mikey a pussy and says he "should have beat the shit out of him in that elevator"

you have no idea how hard it was to write the title because i despise bob with every fiber of my being he's such a douchebag)

Bob was pissed about being kicked out of the band. Mikey understood that--which was why he followed Bob to console him after he stormed out of the meeting room. 

"Mikes," Frank warned, but Mikey kept walking until the door shut behind him. 

"Hey, Bob, wait!" Mikey called after Bob, who was pressing the button to open the elevator door.

"The fuck do you want?" Bob spits, his voice harsh and angry.

"It's... I just... I thought you might want to talk about it."

"Mikey, this band has literally been my life for six years, and now you guys are kicking me out? You're all assholes. Every single fucking one of you."

"Bob-"

"No, Mikey, shut the fuck up. Leave me alone."

"Listen, I just want to help," Mikey tries to reason as the elevator doors open. He follows Bob into the elevator as Bob presses the button for the first floor. 

"I don't want your fucking help."

"Bob, I-"

"Mikey," Bob snarls, "if you say one more word, I'll beat the shit out of you. Do you think I'm kidding?"

Mikey starts to stammer, "You wouldn't..." but is soon cut off by Bob's fist colliding with his jaw. Then his mouth. And his nose. Mikey lets out a strangled grunt and tries to block Bob's punches, but is unsuccessful. "Bob! Stop!"

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to fuck up your goody-two-shoes little face. You get away with everything because of your fucking 'mental condition.' I do one thing, and you fuckfaces kick me out of the band!" Bob throws a few more punches, this time aimed at Mikey's ribs. Mikey can taste blood in his mouth from where he was forced to bite down on his tongue. 

Left with no other choice, Mikey resorts to matching violence with violence. His aching arms, which are now pinned to the wall of the elevator, struggle to be freed as his legs kick desperately at Bob's crotch, succeeding once. Bob grunts, but doesn't move, and, now angrier than ever before, attacks Mikey even more viciously. 

Suddenly, the elevator dings, and Bob lets Mikey's battered body drop to the ground. He kicks Mikey over to the side of the elevator so that the average passerby won't be able to see Mikey. "Have a nice life, asshole," Bob spits, pressing the button on the elevator to return to the original floor of the studio. He digs through Mikey's pocket and finds his phone, then throws it to the ground and destroys it with his boot, leaving him unable to call someone for help.

The doors open, and Bob starts to step out into the lobby.

"Rot in hell," Mikey whimpers, looking at the blood on his hands that isn't Bob's, but instead, his own.

The elevator doors close, and Mikey is lifted back up to the eighth floor, where he knows he will stay until everyone leaves, seeing as nobody is currently in the building but My Chem.

Mikey murmurs a string of curses, wondering how badly Pete will react to the sight of a beaten and bruised Mikey once he finally returns home. Mikey wipes his nose with a shaking hand and sees bright red bloodstains on his hand. The air around him smells metallic from all of the blood, and Mikey is sure that the stains won't come out of the elevator for a long, long time. 

Soon, the pain in his body becomes unbearable, and Mikey begins to drift in and out of consciousness. His vision is blurry, his ears are ringing, and his head aches vehemently, rendering him unable to think properly.

Finally, Mikey's eyes shut properly, and he is submerged in a cold and painful sleep.

The first thing Mikey hears when he wakes is a shout. "Gerard!" Ray calls out. "Emergency!"

"In a minute!" Gerard calls from the studio.

Mikey lets out a soft groan. "Pete... Want to see Pete."

Ray purses his lips, enters the elevator, and scoops up Mikey, carrying him gently. "I'm fine!" Mikey protests, his voice raspy. "I'm fine, I just need to see Pete..."

Ray carries Mikey all the way to the studio and places his body on the couch. "Gerard!" Ray reiterates. "Mikey's hurt!"

Mikey hears a series of pounding footsteps, and suddenly sees a flash of red standing over him. "Did Bob do this to you?" Gerard asks, gritting his teeth so loudly that Mikey can hear them scraping against each other. 

"Yes, but I'm okay-" 

"What the fuck happened?" Frank asks, storming over to Mikey as Ray brings over a wet rag and a medic kit. 

"Nothing, really," Mikey groans. "A small quarrel. I'm fine, really, and I kind of just want to go home..." Mikey shuts his eyes, feeling the cool cloth wipe the blood from his bruised face.

"Mikey?"

"Hm?" Mikey manages to hum softly in response, finding his voice much weaker than it was just a few seconds ago. 

"Mikey, can you open your eyes for me?"

"Rather not, if that's cool with you," Mikey mumbles. 

"I think he's fading in and out of consciousness," Ray whispers. "Like that time when you tried to beat Matt's ass, Frank, and he hit you in the head. It fucked you up for a few hours."

"I'm fine!" Mikey protests, his voice cracking. "He only hit me in the head a few times."

"Define 'a few.'"

"Like, five or six times, tops," he groans. "Now, can I go home?" Mikey pushes the cloth away from his face, stands, leaning on Ray for support before taking a few shaky steps.

"Mikey, I don't think that's a very good idea-" Are the last words Mikey hears before his mind goes blank and he falls forward onto the ground.

-

When he wakes, he's being helped towards his house. Gerard and Frank are guiding him up the driveway, and Ray is already on the porch, ringing the doorbell impatiently and waiting for Pete to come to the door. 

"Pete!" Mikey mumbles happily, his ears ringing. "Is Pete home?"

"Yes, he's home," Frank grumbles, pushing Mikey forward slightly. Mikey loses his balance and falls forwards, but Frank catches him. 

The door opens, and Pete steps out, spotting Mikey leaning forward.

"What happened? Is he drunk?" Pete's voice quickly changes from concerned to upset. "He told me he'd stay clean!"

"No, no, he's not drunk," Ray insists, gesturing to Mikey, who has his head down. Blood is still leaking profusely from his nose, and his left eye has, unfortunately for Mikey, swollen shut. "He got into a fight."

"What the fuck?" Pete furrows his eyebrows, running down the porch's steps and towards Mikey. He stops directly in front of Mikey, who keeps his head down out of shame. "Mikey?"

"Bob beat me the fuck up. I'm fine," Mikey protests, his head still hung low, keeping Pete from seeing his face.

"Show me your face, babe," Pete says. Mikey grunts in response, signaling a very decisive no. "Come on, it can't be that bad."

Mikey shakes his head.

"Mikey..."

Pete gently places a hand under Mikey's jaw and lifts his face up. Immediately, Pete's face contorts into one that radiates anger and hurt. "He did this? He fucking did this?"

"I'm fine," Mikey says. "Doesn't even hurt."

"Bullshit. I'm going to find him, and I'm going to fucking kill him," Pete snarls. He looks at Gerard and Frank, as well as Ray, who has now joined the group. "You guys can go. He'll be okay."

"All right," Pete says, scooping Mikey up bridal-style. "Let's get you fixed up."

Mikey rests his head on Pete's chest. "I'm fine!"

"You have a black eye, your lip is busted, and your nose is still bleeding. You also have numerous cuts on your pretty little face. You're not fine," Pete holds Mikey closer, bringing him inside and shutting the door behind him. He sets Mikey on the couch, grabs a medical kit, and begins cleaning the cuts with antiseptic. 

"Tilt your head back," Pete instructs, propping Mikey's head up on a pillow. "I'll be right back with some ice."

Pete returns shortly with a frozen package of peas wrapped in dishrags. He places it on Mikey's swollen eye and gives Mikey a few ibuprofen. He cleans Mikey's lip and puts away the medical kit. 

"I hope you realize I really am going to beat the everloving shit out of him," Pete says, holding Mikey's hand comfortingly. Mikey laughs softly. 

"Don't," Mikey protests, but Pete merely grins and places a chaste kiss on Mikey's bruised lips and removes the ice pack.

"Come on, babe, let's go to bed." Pete laughs, picking up Mikey and carrying him into the bedroom, then tucking him into bed and soon climbing into the bed himself. 

"Thank you for taking care of me," Mikey whispers once Pete turns the lights out.

"Anything for you, love," Pete replies, placing a soft kiss on the small of Mikey's back before shutting his eyes and falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.

very unhappy with the end of this but i've had writer's block on what to write in this book for a month so at least i finally updated!!! 

-ross ♡