"So did you enjoy fucking my brother last night?" I stumbled into the Way's kitchen to be met by an awfully disgruntled and visually sleep deprived Mikey. I began to wish Gerard hadn't needed to go to the bathroom, leaving me to face his brother alone.

"We didn't, Mikey." He scoffed, leaning against the countertop as he downed a black coffee like a shot of vodka.

"Learn to lie, Iero." He rolled his eyes, clearly more than pissed off at me, causing me to lose all hope in ever rekindling our brief friendship - not that it had mattered to me awfully very much in the first place. Mikey Way was an asshole and by now I was more than clear upon that fact.

"We're not doing anything like that until I'm eighteen." I continued, wondering whether with this new piece of information Mikey would now be planning to assassinate me the night before I turned eighteen, which would be entirely disappointing considering the amount of teasing Gerard would have put me through by then. I would be entirely pissed off and when I came back as a ghost I would haunt both of their asses.

"And how did you get him to agree to that?" Mikey remained in utter disbelief despite the truth behind my words, because I suppose to survive in the Way household you really did have to be a natural born skeptic.

"It was his decision in the first place." I pushed my point further, much to Mikey's increased disbelief and certainty in the fact that I could be nothing but lying.

Mikey's eyebrows rose like a mechanism. "Oh so now he's playing nice guy - making me out like the villain here. Just wait, Frank, you'll only realise just what he's capable of when it's just too damn late."

"Mikey-" I protested, wondering whether I'd hear the end of the Way brothers' spite and jealous for one another.

"Don't even try and argue with me. He's planted bullshit and kisses - I can't compete with that."

"Mikey, just tell me what's your fucking problem. You sound like a jealous ex, okay?" He did, and I managed to keep a straight face despite the rather questionable and certainly humorous mental image that would never leave my mind.

"My fucking problem is the fact that you're my friend and you're letting my asshole of a brother manipulate you into hating me and... feeling however the fuck you feel about him!" Jealous ex - definitely.

"I don't hate you, Mikey. I'm just pissed off because the only conversation we have is you yelling at me about Gerard. I want to be friends." Okay maybe friendship with Mikey Way was a longshot, but at least we could aim for being civil to one another at times, because that would certainly make my life one hell of a lot easier.

"Friends don't lie to one another." Mikey persisted in being the stubborn asshole he was of course, and I was fighting the urge to fucking slap him or something.

"Yeah, because just coming out with the fact that I'd kissed your brother would have gone down perfectly fine, and it's not like that answer would have pissed you off at all in the slightest."

"At least you would have been honest with me. I would have known you trusted me." Yeah, the thing is I don't trust you at all and there's a good fucking reason for that.

"Why would I want to trust you when you blurt shit like that out in front of Mr Toro?"

"You fucking told me to." Well, maybe, but not quite not really. Let's just ignore every point he has here.

"I didn't mean it, Mikey." I let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand back through my hair and most likely messing it up further, but quite frankly, I couldn't quite the slightest of shits right now. I looked like shit already so surely I couldn't look that much worse, but of course I could.

"Better know that what you say means shit then, Frank." Mikey Way well done, you win world's biggest hypocrite. Congratulations.

"Yeah, remember everything you called me with Skully, huh? That means shit." Or does his ego not quite get that?

He sighed, "Okay, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

"Friends?" He looked up at me hopefully, and it was kind of weird how the asshole within him could go away within the blink of an eye.

"Yeah."

"Just try not to molest my brother when I can see, okay?" I'm not sure I was the one doing the majority of the 'molesting', but whatever, I wasn't going to break the peace by pressing the point - despite popular belief, I wasn't quite that stupid.

I nodded in acceptance or whatever. "You still hate Gerard though, don't you?"

"It's hard to explain- I... things are difficult between us."

"Try to explain. Maybe I'll be able to understand this feud you have between the two of you. You aren't the fucking Montagues and Capulets-"

"There seems to be enough death for it to be so." He mumbled to himself, his words not meant to be audible but I caught the majority of them regardless.

"What?"

"How about you fucking ask Gerard? Ask your fucking prissy little boyfriend if he can remove his head from his ass long enough to tell you." And then asshole Mikey was back within an instant and I was just stood there jaw agape, wondering what had ever compelled me to become the slightest bit acquainted with either of the Ways in the first place.

"To tell you what?" And as if on cue Gerard practically waltzed into the kitchen, looking between the two of us cautiously. He could tell something had been going on and not just by his mention, but probably by that fucking cold death glare laden upon Mikey's defined features.

"He wants to know what you did, Gerard." Mikey smirked, arms folded, looking kind of like some sort of smug investment banker bastard.

"What have you fucking said to him?" Gerard's hand went straight into his pockets, only to come back empty. "Fuck."

"I'm not giving you a cigarette, no." Mikey rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what his brother needed without even a single word from him. "Don't look at me like that."

"Gerard." I turned my boyfriend, wondering whether I should even be trying, but I persisted nonetheless, probably because I was ignorant, but truthfully I just didn't know. "Tell me. Just what the hell is going on?"

"Mikey Way is a fucking lying bastard asshole and I need a smoke - that's what's going on, Frankie." He sighed, forcing his lips into a small smile for me. I returned the smile because he looked like he needed it; Mikey didn't approve.

"Gerard, I haven't told him anything." Mikey made eye contact with his brother. "He asked why I hated you, and I told him things were difficult and complicated to explain."

Gerard scoffed, clearly following the Way tradition of skepticism. "One way of putting things. The whole ordeal seems pretty simple to me, though."

"If things are so simple then why don't you just tell him?" Mikey snapped, quite evidently as tired of Gerard's bullshit as I wished secretly growing to be.

"Gerard..." I looked up at him, our eyes not quite meeting. "What's... what's... happened?"

"Shit happened, as it does." Gerard rolled his eyes, grabbing Mikey's jacket off the side, rummaging around in the pockets and eventually pulling out a packet of Marlboro with a smug and triumphant look.

"Hey!" Mikey protested, shaking his head. "Those are my fucking smokes."

"You get them off Bob, and he gives you them for shit because he fucking wants you, Mikes." Gerard rolled his eyes, pocketing the Marlboro and storming out to presumably go smoke or blow up the houses of parliament, who knows when it comes to Gerard, seriously.

I turned to Mikey in the absence to Gerard, "Who's Bob?"

"A dude. Gets me smokes, because Gerard doesn't want to." Mikey shrugged it off, as if Gerard hadn't said that 'Bob' wanted to fuck him just two seconds prior. "He works down at the off license."

"Oh." I sighed, glancing at the door and remembering the way Gerard slammed it behind him. "Should I go after him... or do you not want me to?"

"Since when did you give a damn about my opinion?" Mikey chuckled it was a kind of sadistic chuckle, but a sort of well-meaning one, because Mikey wasn't giving me the devil glare that meant he was well prepared to fucking shoot everyone I ever will love.

"Since I realised I miss having you as my friend and I hate all this arguing." I confessed.

"You can't be close to both Gerard and I because one day you'll get caught in the cross fire and things will go badly from there." He let out sigh, breathing in the stuffy kitchen air like he too wanted a smoke, but didn't want to go anywhere near Gerard in hopes of getting back his packet of Marlboro.

"Mikey, what has he done to you, I mean literally... just I can't understand when both of you are far too stubborn to tell me anything."

Mikey sighed, a hesitant look in his eyes, before his lips finally parted to give way to words. "Don't tell him I told you this, but Gerard takes pills."

"I know he takes medication."

"No, pills. Xanax and shit. That kind of pills." Mikey continued, ignoring my dropped jaw and widened eyes, "and he's probably addicted. I'm not sure what sober him is like though - I've forgotten."

"So it's pills that created this feud."

"No, it's pills that started it. It's Gerard's story to tell really, but he knows bad people and does bad things and that ended up affecting both me and mum in ways you don't want to hear about. And then the pills of course fuck with his current depressive personality and the sporadic manner of his emotions. Mum reckons he's got bipolar, but of course he never lets doctors close enough for anyone to know for sure."

"Oh." I sighed out, wondering just how to accept this into my head; I knew Gerard was fucked up, but specifics made everything just all the more headache worthy. "How didn't I know about the pills and shit?"

"I don't know." Mikey shrugged. "Has he ever seemed particularly high to you?"

"He once told me he was high, but he said it like he was joking and I just assumed he was and then... his personality does change like fuck... god... what am I supposed to do?"

"Forget everything I just said because I didn't fucking say it, of course." Mikey finished his coffee and put the cup on the side. "Go after him if you like, but don't mention this - let him do that himself."

"He's not going to bring that up in conversation though is he?" I pointed out the obvious.

"You really want to talk about that shit with him?" Mikey raised his eyebrows, astounded with my perseverance and I began to wonder whether he'd just loaded all this shit on me in the hopes that I'd end up dumping Gerard or something.

"I can't just ignore it can I?" I exclaimed to a painfully placid Mikey.

"It's what I spend my life doing." he shrugged it off like he hadn't just admitted to completely turning a blind eye to his brother's mental illness.

"And look how well that's going."

Mikey shrugged. "Fair point."

"Fuck, this is such a mess." I sighed out, fed up with Mikey's inability to care, and Gerard's carelessness.

"Told you this wasn't something you want to be getting involved with."

I rolled my eyes, fucking tired of that shit by now. "I only saw good Gerard though." I met his gaze. "I couldn't see any of this at all."

"And I've never seen 'good Gerard' in the past few years at all." Mikey looked like he didn't believe 'good Gerard' existed at all.

"I want to fix that."

"Good luck. He only seems to open up to you though - I don't see why, but he trusts you or something."

"I wasn't aware Gerard 'trusted' anyone." I admitted.

"Me neither." Mikey smiled a small smile but a smile nonetheless. "Make sure he hasn't wasted the entirety of my packet by now, huh?"

-

"Gerard." I met my boyfriend out on the Ways' porch. He stood smoking as he overlooked the street, his eyes dull and lifeless like the grey Jersey skyline. I stood beside him, the only notion that he'd even heard me was the way our fingers slowly entwined almost automatically but mainly because the both of us were kind of shit scared right now.

"Frankie, what's he told you? How much do you hate me? On a scale of one to ten?" Gerard sighed out, taking another drag, the nicotine inhalation preparing him for whatever he thought I'd be throwing at him.

"I don't hate you, Gerard. I'm just worried about you." I explained, wondering how the hell I could put this without either of us freaking out.

"So he has told you something." Gerard let out an exasperated sigh, slouching further down against the fence he leant against.

"He told me not to tell you."

"He would have, yes." Gerard snapped like I'd just told him the alphabet had twenty six letters in.

"Don't tell him I told you - he'll hate me."

"Mikey hates everyone - he's going through an angst phase that seems to just be his whole life." I shrugged, unsure whether I sided with Gerard or Mikey upon this. "So just tell me what he's said, okay? And we'll start from there."

I let one word tumble from my lips, but in this case, one word - this one word, was all I needed. "Pills."

"Well... fuck." He took a particularly long drag of his cigarette - well, technically, it was Mikey's cigarette, but I didn't particularly care that much.

"He said that your mum reckons you've got bipolar." I continued, despite the fact that I should probably have finished before I even let the first word tumble unforgettably from my lips.

Gerard shrugged. "I don't see it."

"I do."

His eyes darted in my direction. "So you're on their side now?"

"They're no fucking sides, Gee." he raised his eyebrows - unconvinced. "Look, one day I see you and you're all careful and caring, and then one day you're sad and angsty, the next you're pissed and you hate me and the whole world."

"Mood swings, we have them." He shrugged it off again; Gerard just didn't want to care - Gerard didn't want to care at all, and in fact he didn't want me to care. Mikey could not care, but I just couldn't.

"Hormonal teenagers have them. You're twenty two." I reminded him.

"The world treats me like I'm fucking sixteen." That still didn't change his biological age at all.

"You treat yourself that way too." I mused, wondering why I hadn't stopped talking already - idiocy, probably. Or maybe arrogance. Arrogance is always a wonderful contender.

"How so?"

"Twenty two year olds don't keep beer under their bed and blackmail their brother into not telling mum that they had their boyfriend over." I had to chuckle a little, causing a grin to break across Gerard's face.

"Fair point." He sighed, the grin disappearing instantly as reality came back to hit him. "So you really reckon I've got this bipolar shit?"

"Yeah, it does explain a lot."

"I don't want it though - I don't want more fucking medication." Says the guy who takes fucking pills.

"You seem to have that covered that for yourself." My words came out harsher than intended, causing him to do nothing short of a double take.

"Frankie-"

"I'm sorry, I just... how often are you high?" I couldn't help but ask the most fucking offensive of questions but what else could I do- was I just supposed to nod and be like 'yeah, take that fucking Xanax - you'll be fine'.

Gerard shrugged. "It's whenever I need to be." He sneaked a quick glance at me, biting down on his lip in a frantic display of nerves that I really didn't see often on someone quite as arrogant as him. "I'm not high as often now."

"Why not?"

"You, Frankie. You."

My heart stopped.

"I was high the first few times I met you and at the hospital when I ran out. When we've kissed I've been sober and shit." He shuffled nervously as his eyes didn't meet mine.

"Mikey didn't notice." I noted.

"Mikey tries his best not to notice." Gerard corrected me and I couldn't help but nod.

"What was it that really happened between the two of you - there was a something and I can just fucking sense it-"

"I'm not ready to tell you, Frankie." He met my gaze finally, and I found myself enthralled as the emerald green crawled out from the depths of the hazel browns in his irises. "My head hurts from all of this. I'll tell you another day - I promise."

"Okay, Gee."

He grinned at me, pushing me back against the fence of the porch in one fluid motion, his grin transitioning into a smirk. "I am going to kiss the fuck out of you, though."

"I'm all up for that."

"Knew you would be."

And then before I knew anything, his lips were pressed against mine, and he had me pinned back against the wall and we were playing that teasing game all over again. I didn't mind though - not really.

He tasted fresh of nicotine, his cigarette, still held loose between his fingertips as he played mindlessly with my hair, pulling the darkened strands as our lips moved in sync- or well the best sync the two of us could muster at like nine am on a Saturday.

"Gerard-" We broke apart to be interrupted by Mikey for what was the second time in a far too short time frame and I felt myself cringing like hell, because there was only a certain number of times I could be walked in on kissing my boyfriend by his little brother before I wanted to shoot him.

"What?" Gerard snapped, pulling away from me and dropping his cigarette in the process. He put it out with his heel and turned to Mikey.

"Don't look at me like that - I'd thought you'd want to be informed that mum was home before she walks out here and finds you making out with your boyfriend... while smoking. She can probably already smell it though - seeing as you've done nothing but sleep, fuck, and chain-smoke for the last twenty four hours.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Gerard dragged his profanities out, running a hand through his hair and grabbing me by the hand. "Come on - she can't murder me if we have a 'guest'."

"Gerard-" My eyes widened.

"Frankie, please?"

"Fine." I sighed, wondering just what the hell I was getting myself into and of course why I had even agreed to this in the first place. "But only because you're fucking pretty."

"Being a fabulous beauty queen, of course has its benefits."

"I said you were pretty that was all."

"Yeah but I said what you really meant, honey."

"Yeah, sure."

"Sure." He grinned like a fucking maniac. "Come on, let's do this."

Well, fuck.

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