"Tell me what?"

And the silence that followed was all kinds of world shattering, as several hearts broke at once, because fuck, no, this most certainly was not supposed to happen, and Gee knew that he was done for exactly then and exactly there, but still, Frank ignored the fear in his eyes, and continued to glance between the two with raised eyebrows.

"It's nothing." Gee shook his head, doing an absolutely lacklustre job of fucking lying to himself, because Frank wasn't stupid, and he already knew that something was up, because the two just simply didn't keep secrets; it had never been like that, and it never would, and on the few occasions they did, things always went to shit.

"Is it now?" Frank remained unconvinced, Bill taking the hint to leave the room as Frank took a seat opposite Gee.

"Yeah, it is, Frankie." Gee kept his tone stern, hoping he could somehow bullshit his way through this, or perhaps just end up getting Frank drunk enough to forget it, because Gee most certainly didn't have enough dignity to rule that out.

"Don't fucking 'Frankie' me." Frank snapped, glaring at his boyfriend with a kind of severely unexpected hatred, but Frank was tired, and Gee couldn't look him in the eye, and this was all kinds of wrong.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to call you? It's your fucking name." Gee shook his head, offering Frank a cigarette, that they seemed to stop arguing momentarily for, because cigarettes were definitely more important than their feelings.

"Just tell me what it is, you're making me paranoid, Gee." Frank let out a sigh, shaking his head a little, because he'd overreacted, and with a puff of nicotine, he could see that. "And don't say nothing, because that's you lying to me, and I really fucking don't like that."

"Okay, then, it's something, but it's nothing important." Gee continued, smiling up at Frank, just a little tentatively.

"Then why don't you tell me if it's not important?" Frank asked, putting his feet up on the table, and shooting Gee one hell of a glare. "You're doing an excellent job of pissing me off, you know that, don't you, Gee?"

"I'm sorry." Gee shook his head, "look it's really nothing important, it's something that happened ages ago that's going to make you upset, and it doesn't affect anything now, so I don't see why you should get upset over something that doesn't matter anymore-"

"Well, I won't get upset over it if it doesn't matter will I?" Frank exclaimed, shaking his head a little. "You're really fucking impossible, you know that, don't you, Gee?"

"It's simple, it's unimportant, and I-"

"Fucking tell me, just tell me, Gee, before I fucking slap you or something-" Frank shook his head, stopping as he realised he'd overstepped some line here. "I'm sorry, I would never slap you, Gee. I love you, I'm sorry, this is stupid, let's just forget about it?"

And that was the exact moment that Gee Way broke down in tears, and for the absolute life of him, Frank just couldn't figure out why.

"I'm sorry." Frank pleaded, rushing to sit besides his boyfriend, and pull him into a hug, "fuck, I'm so sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry." Gee choked out, meeting Frank's gaze with red, puffy, tear-stained eyes. "I'm the fuck up here, I-"

"You're not, I-"

"Remember that last argument when... I... h-hit you... I had forgotten about that, and I... I'm so sorry, I love you so much, and you're too good for me, you're too fucking good for me, but I love you so much, Frankie, and I should probably tell you the thing, but it's going to make you hate me, and I really can't deal with that-"

"I could never hate you Gee, look that's all in the past now, I love you so much too, look, I bet I couldn't hate you, even if I tried." Frank let out a sigh, as he pressed a kiss to Gee's forehead, and wiped the tears from under his eyes, "god, you're so beautiful, you know that, don't you?"

And Gee blushed like hell itself, exhaling loudly as he prepared himself to ruin his life. "I... fucked... Bert... when... when we had broken up, you know that whole mess, but I lied to you about it because you said something about only taking me back if I'd only fucked Dallon, and I lied, because I-... I can't... I love you so much, Frank, and I can't not be with you... and I fucked up so bad, and I..."

"Fuck, Gee." Frank shook his head, sighing as he tucked Gee's hair behind his ears, "what did you do that for? Especially with what Bert's done to you in the past?"

"I was drunk, you know how I was worse with alcohol then, I... I was real fucking drunk and really fucked up because of you, and Bert suggested it, and I said yes, because I fucking... I don't know, I needed someone, but I didn't need him: I needed you."

And they just sat there in silence for too long as Frank shook his head, biting his lip, and trying not to cry, because it'd be so fucking pathetic if they were both crying.

"You know when I graduate high school, us two are going to somewhere together away from this mess and it'll all be okay, and it can be just that: just us." And before Gee could even respond, Frank was kissing him and holding him like he was scared that he might suddenly fade away, and it was all kinds of pathetic, and even more kinds of hopeless, but it was right, and in that moment it was indeed enough.

"I love you." Gee said for the millionth time, perhaps never meaning it more, as he held Frank's hand so tight that it might break off.

"I love you too, you fucking idiot." Frank sighed out, pressing his head against Gee's chest, as the two sat there in silence for a while. "What's happening with Bill?"

"He's leaving, he's going back to some friend or Gabe or whatever, early tomorrow, before Bert can stop him."

"I swear Bert is the root of everyone's problems here."

"He's not." Gee shook his head, surprising Frank in his defence of Bert. "He's just fucked up, and lonely, and stoned or pissed all the time, and that's why he lets me stay here; he's lonely, and he's scared, and sad, and he just needs to find someone that makes him happy: someone that isn't seventeen, someone who doesn't have a boyfriend, or isn't your mum-"

"Are you suggesting that we make Bert McCracken a Grindr?"

And a grin as Gee's eyes lit up. "Yes."

-

Gabe Saporta wasn't one for going outside on cold early mornings, but William Beckett changed that.

Gabe Saporta wasn't one for dressing up as Jesus from some dude's cousin's wedding, only to then get that certain dude kicked out of his house, but William Beckett changed that.

Gabe Saporta wasn't one for fucking up royally, but William Beckett changed that.

And to say that eighteen year old Bill Beckett wasn't really something special, would be nothing short of a blatant lie, because Gabe Saporta was the lively proof that there was just something about everyone's favourite blatantly homosexual dork.

To say that Gabe was the only one of the pair who'd changed was too a lie, because ever since the 'Jesus incident' Bill had never quite been the same; the way his mother had treated him because of his sexuality had really struck a chord in him, and it wasn't like he was to blame - getting disowned by your parents fucking hurt.

Sure living with your boyfriend was a benefit, but it was never the same, and when things fucked up, things fucked up, and Bill had ended up living with some random drug addict who'd called him cute and invited him into bed with him, and said random drug addict was not far off a decade older than him.

And perhaps Bill shouldn't have called Gabe, and perhaps Travie should have answered after the first call, and perhaps Bill shouldn't have gotten nervous, and perhaps Gee shouldn't have been so insistent, but there was no changing any of that now, and Bill knew that as he approached the play park, and he saw an all too familiar, yet all too distant boy stood there, waiting for him.

He wondered how long Gabe had been stood there waiting, and in turn, he wonder how long Gab would have waited if he had indeed never turned up, and fuck that hurt, and perhaps everything did when you were in a position like Bill's.

Perhaps that was for the better, though: what was life without the pain and the ache? Dull and boring, of course.

And what was life without the risks taken to see that beautiful fucking asshole Gabe Saporta smile again? Fucking stupid, and Bill knew that within an instant.

And in that same instant, Bill knew that he was little bit fucked, but perhaps that was how he wanted things to be, perhaps there was little other alternative - perhaps things would work out in an odd way in the end, as things often did, and also as things often didn't.

When Bill finally reached the play park, the two kind of just stood before one another for a moment, just letting the circumstances set in, and revel in the wondrous mess they'd whipped up together, because a disaster on a scale like this did indeed take some skill in concocting, and if they had nothing, at least they had that, and in a way that served as condolence, although to both of them, it meant very little at all.

"I've missed you." Gabe was the first to speak, and he started with perhaps the most and only honest statement he could utter at that moment in time.

"I missed you too." Bill added, blushing a little, perhaps more out of awkwardness than any kind of romanticism, but time would of course tell how that changed, and how they changed, and how things changed, and how things could possibly be when they made it out of this hell.

"Where did you even go, Bill?" And before Gabe could stop himself, everything was tumbling from his lips, and uncensored and raw, and enough to fuck everything up again, because Bill Beckett was too much and never quite enough and all at the same time, and all in the same ways, and Gabe felt like dying around him, but in a good way, if there ever was a good way, or if Gabe was simply just mad by this point.

"I stayed with Bert... McCracken." He admitted, blushing a little, because he knew that Gabe was aware of Bert McCracken, just who he was, and just how old he was. "I... I changed my mind, because... well... Gee, Gee Way, you know Gee, Frank's boyfriend, he started talking to me, and I was kind of fucked up and lost in my own head and the mess I'd made for myself, but he told me it straight, and it hurt, and I kind of couldn't deal, but that was the truth and the reality and I miss you and I'm sorry, and I need to fix things here, somehow: I'm not sure how, but help me out here, Gabe, please."

"I'm sorry too." And Gabe meant it enough, just enough for him not lie, but nowhere near enough for it to be heartfelt enough to matter, but Bill was far too caught up in the moment to notice, and that was either Gabe's saving grace or the very thing that was destined to ruin him.

"We fucked up, I fucked up mainly, and you fucked up too, and I think we should start talking again." And Bill was scared to ask, too scared to ask, but even more scared to go back and face Gee and Bert, and the hole he'd dug for himself to fall into.

"Yeah, it's all good, I fucked up most though, and it's fine: we both know that-"

And Bill found himself cutting Gabe off before he could stop himself, because his head was a mess, and his words and actions reflected that. "Can I come back? To live with you again? Because I've not really got anywhere else again, I haven't talked to Travie in ages, and his mum doesn't really like me, and I... we don't have to date again, just... I don't... I don't want to go back and live with Bert again...."

And silence: overthinking on both boys' part.

"I don't want you to go back to Bert either; he's a really bad guy, you know?" And Bill nodded, because deep down, despite the smiles and the mess they'd made, he did. "You can stay again, but like... I don't know if my head's in the right place to consider dating anyone right now..."

"That's fine - thank you, really, so much." And perhaps Bill had never meant anything more. "My head's a bit fucked too, so that's good for me too." And perhaps Bill had never meant anything less.

"So, like, are you-"

"I'll just go get my stuff, stay here - it's probably best if Bert doesn't see you, he'll probably punch you or something."

"Jesus, what have you told him about me?"

"Nothing, he's just Bert..."

And perhaps that was how things should have been, but they weren't, not really.

-

Brendon reckoned he had to get out of that house before he ended up punching someone in the face, because this was exactly how he'd fucked up his life last time; well, not exactly with so much face punching, but along the same lines, because Brendon knew through and through, that no matter the circumstances, Ryan would always side with Patrick over him, and Brendon just couldn't help where he stood in regards to this whole mess.

Because there really was absolutely no other way to put it; this was a absolutely nothing more than a mess, and Brendon regretted not even just muttering a quick apology to Ryan before he'd made it out the backdoor and down a few roads, before making it into the forest, and only then slowly to a normal pace, because only then was Brendon anything at all reminiscent of okay.

Brendon's head was a little fucked up, to say the least.

It was Ryan Ross' fault, to say the least.

But Brendon could never blame him, to say too much entirely.

Brendon was pathetic and apathetic and all at the same time and all in the wrong places, and his head was spinning, and he regretted living that one last packet of cigarettes on Ryan Ross' dining room table, because perhaps he needed the nicotine more than he needed his own common sense.

Perhaps Brendon didn't even have any common sense at all; it wouldn't exactly be unlikely, especially from where the majority of his peer group where standing.

The majority of them hated his guts, and he reckoned that without Ryan and Sarah, he'd have been shot by now, and perhaps Brendon didn't entirely blame them.

He was quite the asshole, but he didn't have the pride that completed the masquerade anymore; he was broken, and even more reluctant to admit it, and his life was on a downwards spiral that started now.

It wasn't Patrick's fault, and Patrick needed Ryan more than he did, especially if he kept hallucinating, or whatever, but Brendon couldn't help but be selfish and yearn for that chance with Ryan again, because until Patrick turned up, he reckoned the two were nearly there.

Because on that sofa, kind of late at night, with blissful smiles and sleepy eyes, nothing had mattered in the world besides one another, and Brendon reckoned he wouldn't ever get that kind of thing back again.

He could perhaps liken it to the playground and the swings and the fuck and Dallon, but of course, disaster had to strike next, and perhaps this was Brendon leaving to save himself, but of course, he hadn't a fucking clue as to where he was going, and he had even less of a clue as to what would become of him, because to put it politely, he was a fuck up.

And to put it crudely, he was the cause of everyone's problems.

Or at least that's what it felt like, and perhaps Brendon wasn't even that far off as he stumbled down to the canal and considered throwing himself into the water as he sat down on the paving stones and tried not to look at the stupid remarks he and Ryan had carved into the stone what was mere weeks ago, but indeed felt like years.

Fuck, he was fucked.

And he couldn't quite figure out where to go from here, because with a heart beating as fast as his was right now, somehow going back to Ryan's just didn't seem like a viable option, in fact, nothing seemed like a viable option.

In fact, this was just about how it all fell to pieces; the pieces that Brendon had been clutching hopelessly at in a lacklustre attempt to hold them all together, before everything came crashing down.

Well, fuck that now, because what else did he even have left?

All Ryan could care about was Patrick now, and Sarah was always talking about Gabe, and Kitty would stab him if he went within four miles of Sarah, and Brendon just tried not to think about the connotations of that, because there were some serious homosexual vibes going on there, and he could not deny it, and-

"I'm fucked." And Brendon was almost genuinely shocked to find that the words hadn't slipped his own lips, but the lips of the boy who had sat down beside him.

"Mikey?" He widened his eyes a little as he took in the boy's rather sleep deprived appearance, and with what he'd been through last night, Brendon barely blamed him.

"Hey..." Mikey trailed off, focusing his gaze on water and the slow ripples and a family of ducks that were totally going to get squashed by that ship if they weren't careful.

"Are you okay?" Brendon asked, and it was the most stupidest of questions, but the two really didn't have that much else between them worth discussing. "The whole thing with Pete, I mean, like I-"

"I don't know; no, it's not, of course, it's not, I-" Mikey shook his head, not entirely sure what to make of the mess he'd made for himself at all. "I don't know what to think, and I don't want to chance going back for answers, because it... seeing him, you know, it fucks with your mind, I... just... you think he's back, but he's not, not really; he'll never be back, and it's so hard to accept that, almost impossible, and think Patrick's given up on that front, and that's where I'm destined, isn't it?"

Brendon shook his head, suddenly feeling a sudden urge to defend and comfort the lanky boy who he'd never really spoken to before. "No, it's not, of course it's not, and whatever this is, it doesn't have to define you; you can... fuck... I don't know... I'm trying to give you advice but there's no advice to give? I... just..."

"It's okay." Mikey pulled his lips up into a smile, "it's okay, I don't expect that from you, it's not... it's just... what am I even supposed to do? Because the only thing that makes sense is to just forget it, but that's the most ridiculous idea in the world, and I just..." Mikey shook his head, "I can't go near Patrick again, I really can't."

"I can't either; it freaks me out, if I'm honest, and Ryan's going to end up hating me again because of all of this, and I know it, but there's nothing I can do about it, is there? Because Ryan will always care about Patrick more than he's ever going to care about me-"

"That's not true-"

"Mikey, I honestly wish you were right, but you're not, you're anything but right." Brendon paused, shaking his head, "and that's just how things are going to be: I have that moment, the top of the rollercoaster the elation point, and then it's all down, so fucking down, vertical slope kind of heart attack mess for weeks and months afterwards. And I have no control over that; that's just how it's always going to be, but I guess accepting it's a start."

-

Mikey didn't quite know what was wrong with him, but he most definitely knew there was something, because things like this didn't 'just happen', and Mikey wasn't like Patrick, and he couldn't trick himself into thinking that this was okay, no matter how hard he tried or no matter how hard he wanted to, because fuck, he really did.

And Bert had been anything but help, but it was Bert, and Mikey hadn't expected, well, anything at all, and Gee kept looking at him weird, and perhaps he didn't blame him, because okay, maybe, just maybe, Mikey had been ignoring him for a while, and maybe it had something to do with this mess with Pete, and the fact that Mikey couldn't look his older brother in the eye anymore, because Gee had to know at this point, because Frank was a good friend, but Mikey knew that Gee came before everything in Frank's world, and that in turn, there was no way around that.

But Mikey reckoned he was safe out here alone, after Brendon had left, and he didn't even blame him, because who the fuck wanted to talk to a mess like him, and certainly not Brendon, of all people.

But, he couldn't help but feel alone, and his heart couldn't help but ache a little, and he couldn't help but sit down and just fucking wish he could turn back time to when everything was okay, and everything was just about Alicia Simmons' ass, and god, her ass wasn't even that spectacular, and dear god, Mikey was pathetic as fuck when he thought he was straight.

Mikey reckoned he was still pathetic as fuck, and it was most certainly within reason.

Because, here he was, running away and hiding from his problems, because he couldn't face anyone he loved, and he couldn't stop thinking about what Bert had said about 'maybe this all being fine', and how it meant nothing, and how that was literally the worst attempt at lying to him that Mikey had ever encountered, but still, it was the only lie worth believing, because maybe then he could stay sane.

"Fuck..." He cursed aloud, shaking his head a little, as he kicked the dirt with the heels of his converse; he was stumped at what to do, and somehow he was still very passive aggressively angry at Patrick for just sitting there and letting all this happen, because it was quite easily the stupidest idea Mikey had ever heard, but it really wasn't like he was that much better off, was it? "Fuck me." He continued, shaking his head in disbelief.

And the heart attack of the century. "I'd like to."

And Mikey reckoned he couldn't even breathe as fucking Pete Wentz sat down beside him; the two with their backs against a tree trunk.

"Sorry, if I scared you-"

"You don't think that's a fucking understatement, Pete, you're fucking ruining my life, you get me?" Mikey snapped, glaring at the 'hallucination' beside him. "Where's Patrick?"

"I don't know? At Ryan's, probably." Pete shrugged it off, still somehow smiling at Mikey.

"Aren't you like... don't you... like... I don't know, but... aren't you 'attached' to Patrick?" Mikey shook his head in disbelief at the fact that he was even attempting to make any kind of sense out of this mess.

"Patrick can see me, you can see me, surely I'm connected to both of you-"

"Pete..." Mikey shook his head, meeting his dead boyfriend's gaze, "you're not real."

"Patrick thinks I'm real." Pete protested, almost looking personally offended by the truth, god it was like he was a social justice warrior or something.

"Well... Patrick's... Patrick." Mikey let out a sigh, avoiding Pete's gaze as he spoke. "He... you know... he's not coping with things well, he... this... he kept seeing you at first, but I couldn't, and I..."

"When we were in Gee's living room?" Pete asked, almost giving Mikey a heartache as he did so, because this figment of his and Patrick's imagination wasn't supposed to just know things, remember? But still, Mikey nodded. "You didn't want to see me."

"And I do now?" Mikey almost laughed that one off, because quite honestly, it was anything but true, and deep down he reckoned that they both knew it, perhaps that the whole world knew it, even.

And all it took was one word: "Ray."

"What the fuck are you implying-"

"Ray, you had Ray then, but you fucked that up now, and you miss me, so you want to see me, so you're desperate, you're 'like Patrick', don't lie to yourself, Mikey, you're not any 'better' than him, and don't fucking talk about Patrick like that, because I care about him too-"

"You're not real." Mikey repeated, perhaps just for his own benefit.

"So you're talking to a hallucination right now, are you, huh?" Pete raised his eyebrows, and Mikey seriously wondered if this asshole could die twice.

"Okay fine, why the fuck did you kill yourself, 'Pete'?" Mikey asked, caring very little about the feelings of this hallucination of his, because he reckoned that at least he was saving himself all the symptoms of insanity.

"Because I love you, and I couldn't deal with that and Patrick-"

"You're selfish, and you're just saying what you want me to hear, and you just-" Mikey shook his head, getting to his feet. "Don't fucking follow me, leave me the fuck alone, you got that? You're not real."

"If I'm not real then why are you talking to yourself?"

And Mikey didn't answer, he only ran, and he fucking ran through the woods to the part of town he was unfamiliar with, until his feet ached, and his whole body wanted to fucking collapse, and Mikey really wasn't very sporty, so he ran for like four minutes, at the most.

But perhaps that was enough, perhaps it was never enough, because as he threw himself down onto a park bench, and began to sob like the whole world had disappeared around him, an all too familiar figure sat down beside him.

And just at the very least, it wasn't Pete.

"You look upset." Bert was the first to point out the obvious, and it wasn't something that Mikey Way entirely thankful for at all.

"Of course I'm upset; I'm fucking ruining my life by just existing and there's pretty much nothing that I can do about it." Mikey snapped, shaking his head a little, as he finally met Bert's gaze. "What is it with you? Why do you care about me?"

"Because you don't deserve to be upset-"

Mikey contorted his face into a frown. "No one deserves to be upset."

"I know." Bert added with a sigh, "I know."

"You don't seem to though, especially as you continue to make people upset, which really fucking sucks, you know? Especially when it's my brother that you're making upset; Gee doesn't like you, just so you know, he doesn't like you."

"He used to." Bert let out a sigh, "when we first met he seemed in admiration of me, but he was young then, and he just needed some place to stay, and I took advantage of that, like an asshole, and Gee didn't know better, but he does know, and he realises how much better than me he is, how much he deserves, the like, and that's why he hates me."

"I didn't ask him why he hates you? I just told you that he hates you, because you keep brushing it off, and I don't like that-"

"So do enlighten me, Mikey Way, what exactly am I supposed to do, what exactly am I supposed to say in response?" Bert was quickly losing his temper now, and Mikey was well aware of it, but perhaps he just didn't care.

"I'm sorry." Mikey snapped, meeting Bert's gaze. "You're supposed to apologise, not to me, but to him, and you're supposed to make things right, because every time he looks at you, even just for a moment, there's an odd look in his eyes, and it's because suddenly his mind is pulled back a few years in time, and you're meeting for the first time again, and he can't stop what's happening; he can't stop this mess, no matter what he does."

"It's not like I forced him to move in with me, is it? And it's not like I'm going to protest when him and Frank inevitably move in together, but... what I have figured out from that, is that Gee is going to go with Frank, who the fuck knows where, in one hell of a whirlwind decision, and where are you going to be in all of that? Still here, with nowhere to go but my place. And I like you, so I'll let you stay, but maybe you should put some thought into ensuring that things stay that way."

"Don't manipulate me into liking you, Bert." Mikey snapped, glaring at the man with an odd look in his eyes. "Why do you care about me at all? I'm just Gee's brother, aren't I?"

"I care about Gee, and you're my chance to make things up to him, aren't you-"

"I'm not a chance, Bert, I'm a person." Mikey didn't move his gaze from the older man's. "And that's where you're fucking up. Gee maybe amazing, but he isn't everything and he isn't yours, and I'm not him, and fuck- you still have feelings for him, don't you?"

Bert made no response, but the silence was enough.

"Fuck." Mikey shook his head in utter disbelief. "Don't you dare fuck up his relationship with Frank-"

"Why do you assume I fuck everything up?"

"Because, Bert, you do."

"You know what, Mikey Way? My father told me the exact same age eleven when he hit me for the first time." Bert paused, swallowing hard, "so don't fucking tell me how to think or how to feel because I've had more than enough of that in my life already."

And for what Mikey assumed to be the first time ever, Bert McCracken started to cry.

-

hey pals ayyy frerard didnt die i thought it was gonna tbh also i still have no idea whats going on with pete and mikey so any and all suggestions are welcome lmao. im super professional and i super love you all lots like seriously for real i love you guys. votes and comments would be really nice and would make me very happy ayy <3