Mikey had been more than a little shocked to see the guy he regularly took pleasure in picking on hanging around with his older brother. His language had consisted of nothing but profanities and words that he couldn't quite form together; he couldn't quite piece this together, but really, I don't blame him, because most of the time, neither can I. Gerard is an anomaly, but I think that's precisely what makes him Gerard.

Gerard had eventually grabbed Mikey by the arm and dragged him down the corridor, before I could even think of responding. I was rather relieved to have the more than a little judgemental and horribly opinionated, younger Way brother removed from the situation, but Gerard just leaving with no instructions or contact details - nothing. I knew nothing as to how I'd possibly manage to meet Gerard again; the former time had proved difficult enough, and I had very much decided upon setting in stone our default friendship. Friendship with the older Way brother was a questionable concept, but it was one I was more than excited to tackle; I think maybe I liked to win, or maybe there was something about Gerard that couldn't stop me from being completely drawn to the guy.

This nothingness however, had given me more than enough motivation to drag myself along to that stupid group thing for yet another hellish session, despite the fact I'd probably scared off Gerard more than enough to prevent him from ever setting foot in that building ever again. I mean that look he gave me when we first made eye contact in that room; it was just shocking really, different... He just looked so different, fuck, even scared? No, this was Gerard and the fact that he couldn't possibly be genuinely scared of anything, of anyone was set in stone.

But, I couldn't shake the feeling; it almost felt like there was something I didn't know here.

Fuck, had Mikey said something to Gerard? Had he pour lies in through those ears and into his brain, the clockwork ticking and turning until it finally ticked onto 'I hate Frank' mode - I wouldn't exactly blame him, though because, well, I'm rather easy to hate, and Mikey is a fiendish bastard; Mikey would be the one I'd blaming in this situation.

I really hoped he hadn't whispered any unfriendly words regarding me, because as sad as it may sound, I really wanted a friend for once, and I really wanted it to be Gerard.

-

It should have surprised me more when Mikey Way himself pinned me against the wall just as the remaining students flooded out of the art room at three o clock on a Friday. The guy had just been awfully more violent that I would have suspected; he was supposed to be the brains of The Killers, but really they were a bunch of foolish thugs, so the fact that Mikey should be any different simply because he shared the same last name as a certain Gerard who until recently I believed was a figment of my rather fucked up imagination.

I was rather glad to realise the fact that even I doubted, maybe even Miss Craw doubted, that my imagination could create some, just so Gerard as Gerard himself. Fuck, I can barely even describe the guy; he's just Gerard, and I just want him to be my friend.

"Dude!" I attempted to push him off of me, but he had his hand firmly pressed into my shoulder blades, and he was applying just enough pressure to make it hurt. Hauntingly, his eyes were the same as Gerard's; the same hazel tones complete with golden flecks glistening in the sunlight that filtered in horizontal lines through the half closed blinds. I didn't like reminding that someone like Mikey could share even a speck of DNA with someone I found myself intrigued with as much as Gerard. Fuck, I bet he even thought I was weird, like surely hadn't the guy made it pretty clear he didn't like me? I'm stupid.

"How do you know about Gerard?" The fact that we're getting to the point for once is rather intriguing, but quite how forceful he's being with this is, well, more than a little unnerving. On top of that, my shoulders were aching like shit and he didn't seem all that keen on releasing his clamp like grip on them.

My silence only caused his iron grip to push my fragile shoulder blades more forceful against the peeling plaster walls. "How the fuck do you know?" He didn't sound quite so angry this time, more, I don't know, desperate? For Mikey Way, it was certainly intriguing. Intriguing was unnerving more than anything, especially when it was the younger, less trustworthy Way brother.

I was simply glad that at least he wasn't asking me why I was there, because fuck did I want to tell him; I didn't even tell Gerard, so there wasn't a chance in hell. What unnerved me though, was that without a confirmation or even an indirect question it was really up to Mikey Way as to what in God's name I was doing at the hospital. I assumed he had probably figured it out, seeing as he isn't refered to as the brains of The Killers for nothing.

"Maybe if you weren't pinning me against a wall, I'd be more inclined to tell you!" I snapped back at him, disregarding any sense of rationality or sense of social hierarchy for a good few seconds as my abused shoulder blades took the wheel. My shoulders had rights too, but fuck, I really maybe shouldn't have said that, or at least put it in such a direct manner.

I expected rage, anger, fits of fury, and quite possibly even a broken nose, but Mikey just glanced at me for a few seconds, a confused expression painted across his face, before he released his grip and took a step backwards, letting my rather rigid frame collide with the plaster, most likely scraping sheets off with the impact of my back. I should really feel sorry for whoever owns this classroom, but they really should have made some attempt to fix the decomposing plaster they liked to refer to as adequate wall coverings - I even think dogshit smeared all over the walls would have looked better.

"I met him in the woods." I said after a few seconds to compose myself, deciding that the truth may be the best course of action here if I wanted to get something similar in return. "I met Gerard in the woods- well, kind of stumbled upon him, like it felt like he shouldn't have been there; it's usually just me there, but fuck-" Mikey nodded at me to continue. "He was smoking and he art supplies and stuff; he was a bit of an asshole- well, okay a lot of an asshole to me, and then just stormed off."

Mikey chuckled sort of sadistically, "if he's such an asshole then why did you talk to him so calmly at the hospital?" The guy had a point really, and it took me a few minutes to even struggle to find an answer to his query.

"That's not the only time I met him, y'know." I was intent on choosing my words carefully from now on, looking at Mikey through a narrow gaze, because the whole being civil towards me act could turn 360 degrees with a few small seconds, and when he took me out, I wanted to look clever whilst he was doing it, because a witty dead guy was surely better than just a dead guy. Or at least that made sense in my terribly askew and morbidly fucked up sense of logic.

"For a guy who hardly leaves the house, you seem to have ran into him far too much. It sounds like you're magnetically attracted to him." Mikey paused, chewing furiously at the inside of his bottom lip - it was rather distracting, and I'm sure his lip would start oozing blood in a rather disgusting manner within the next few minutes if he continued just so furiously.. "Are you stalking him or something?"

"No!" I felt myself blush; I was telling the truth, but only at first, because within the latter part of knowing Gerard, my life had become a whole mission set up to stalk him. Mikey rolled his eyes. I'd even started stalking Mikey at school, but he really didn't need to know that, like I really doubted he'd take to that kindly; he'd probably break my jaw or something, maybe even my nose too. I'd look odd, for sure.

"So, the other times you met him?" Mikey thankfully had the decency to disregard the stalkerish accusations and moved the conversation on; I think, maybe, he was a little nervous, as if he was maybe just even a little bit scared of me.

"A few days later again in the woods. I think he was high on something, I don't even know - he was just odd. Yes, odd - I guess that's the only way to put it. He was vague, distant less of an asshole, but slightly concerning. He lied about his age; he told me he was seventeen." I mumbled the last part, somewhat embarrassed that Gerard had lied to me, but really Gerard should be the embarrassed one, but with my social skills you can guess how the situation went entirely askew.

Mikey nodded subtly. "Yeah, he does that." I looked up at him with confused eyes; fuck did he mean the drugs? Was Gerard an addict? Fuck, would that be important? Yes, yes it would, but Gerard- but drugs. Drugs are bad, hella bad. I wouldn't just give up on him though, would I? I mean, I couldn't. Even if he was off his ass smoking weed every day, surely he wasn't- "Lying, I mean. Not drugs, not often." I inhaled far too audibly and I swear I saw Mikey force the corners of his mouth down and out of a smirk.

"How often?" My concern for Gerard was unnatural. I just needed to know; it was none of my business, yet all of my business at the same time and that made about as much sense as this whole situation seemed to.

"Far too often for mum's liking, but not often enough for his own liking." The Way brothers seemed to share this talent of generally being exceptionally vague - it was more than irritating. I was training to put up with it; I mean I had to if I had this batshit crazy plan of befriending Gerard.

"His own liking?" I raised one eyebrow.

"And the other times?" Mikey avoided my question entirely; I was annoyed, but thought it best to drop the matter - this was Mikey Way after all. The fact that I hadn't a single bruise so far was actually quite extraordinary, and I mean all my bones were fully intact - it was practically Christmas.

"Only once more prior to the, uhh... hospital." He just nodded, going just as pale as I did when I came to mention that place. I think maybe he didn't even want to ask me, and maybe I think he felt a little bit guilty, because his constant picking on and beating up of me could have easily landed me on the breaches of insanity that would have put me in a beeline for that place, but no, a different type of insanity entirely had put me in there; everyone's favourite teacher, Miss Craw.

"I'd gotten beaten up and I passed out and I woke up in the forest. He carried me across town and he said he cared - it was weird." Mikey just looked at me for a few seconds, before pulling his lips together and attempting to shape them adequately enough to form coherent words. It was weird to see Mikey near enough speechless, because well he was Mikey and he was just like that - far too outspoken and far too arrogant.

"Who beat you up?" Mikey asked, his eyes widened. Was he concerned? Or was he just concerned that someone hadn't done the job as professionally as he would have? Perhaps he'd even like to finish said job off as soon as he'd gotten whatever the fuck even wanted out of me. I wouldn't even be that surprised.

"What are you, jealous, because that seems to be your fucking job?" I snapped at him. It was a bad idea, but I liked exploiting the only control I had over this asshole of a guy. It was awfully intriguing as to how quiet he went whenever someone even mentioned siblings, let alone his, let alone Gerard.

"Just answer the fucking question, Iero." At least he had the brains to pronounce it correctly; Skully hadn't quite mastered that, and simply went with Emo-ero or something equally foul along those lines.

"I don't know. Gerard says it was these guys, like a gang, his gang? I really don't know; it's all a bit fuzzy-" I was speaking all too fast and all too nervously; I think maybe the memories unsettled me, but really I didn't even know.

"You made Gerard out as the type to been in a gang?" Mikey snorted. I raised my eyebrows, severely wishing Gerard could be related to anyone but this pretentious asshole.

I shrugged. "Okay, not exactly, but he's intimidating enough." Mikey just looked at me. "I didn't know what to think, okay?"

"You're literally the only person he's spoken to besides me and mum for at least a decade now." Fuck. Was he joking? He wasn't joking; his tone made that quite clear.

"What?" I wasn't quite sure how to react to this? Was I special in some way? Or did he simply hate me that much? I wondered if the Way brothers bonded over a mutual hatred for everyone's least favourite kid in the entirety of Jersey - Frank Fucking Iero. Okay, maybe that last part was an overstatement; my middle name wasn't 'Fucking', is that even legal to call your kid that? In Texas it probably is, but-

Mikey shrugged, his eyes looked kind of sad, kind of just sorry, kind of just Frank fuck off, but overall, kind of just Mikey. "It wasn't a gang who beat you up. I'm pretty sure it was Gerard-"

"Wait what?" Gerard beating me up? I did I have a hearing problem or was Mikey just insane, or incredibly spiteful? Maybe the latter. That couldn't possibly have happened - this was Gerard, I mean. No. This didn't happen.

"Gerard isn't exactly normal, is he, Frank?" It was weird to hear him actually call me by my name rather than some vulgar slur for once. "I mean, your first impressions of him - I guess they at least, were far from normal." Okay, he had a point, but that didn't fucking mean, that could never mean I actually believed the guy.

"Psychotic. I think that's the word I used." Mikey shivered slightly at my rather brutal description of his brother.

"Yeah, well." He inhaled deeply. "Frank, I'm not fucking with you, this is serious, okay? But Gerard's not exactly the best company, the best guy to make friends with, he's, uhh, dangerous." And you're not? The guy who enjoys beating me up, is of course, in no way dangerous? But the only guy who's been nice to me in like forever, his brother, of course is.

I just laughed. It was slightly disrespectful, but I was far from caring. "Dangerous? Is that the best you can come up with? If you just don't want a 'fag' like me around your brother than I'd appreciate it if you just said it to my face and let me leave!" The words would hurt, but not as much as this does; Mikey's clever like that - he knows how to make people really hurt, because a fist can only do so much.

"Frank, I'm fucking serious-" Sure.

"Well, so am I." i countered, not even caring what impact my words were having anymore, I just wanted Mikey to buckle up and stop lying - I wanted the fucking truth for once. Could that be arranged?

"Just please listen, for your sake - you shouldn't be friends-" Ha.

Before he could finish his sentence, my fist collided perfectly with his jaw, and fuck it felt good to be the one throwing the punches for once. I hoped it hurt. I hoped it ached like shit. I hoped he recoiled backwards in pain, I hoped he screamed, I hoped he cried, and heck, I even hoped he would just die.

But he's Mikey Way.

He didn't.

And I should have known that actions like that would most certainly come with rather unpleasant consequences.

First came his retaliation - the fist colliding with my jaw. He bettered my punch by miles, but really he had an awful lot more practice, on me in fact. I bet he enjoyed that, didn't he?

He aimed a blow at my stomach, leaving me more than fucking winded as I gasped in pain. He was quick to get us back to how we started, pinning me back against the wall, ripping away yet more plaster as he spat on me.

"You're fucking stupid, Iero." He glared like hell. "Fucking stupid, you hear me?"

I was far too weak to retaliate and thankfully he just gave me a final shove before leaving me hopeless again the art room wall as he stormed off, backpack leaning off his back as he walked home to a house containing Gerard.

I blurred in between states of consciousness for what felt like forever after that; his fist leaving much more of an impact than his taunting words, especially on my, now more than fucked up, jaw. I may have even dislocated the thing, but I was far too used to injuries, little incidents like this and pulled myself up and dragged my limp frame home.

I didn't want to, but I had to. That was just life.

-

The first words I heard as I slammed the door to my house far too loudly were of my father; a great bellow fit with a poison tone that he just wouldn't exist without.

"Finally home are we, faggot?" The sound echoed off the walls. "We're certainly going to have some fun now."

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