I stumbled out of school, still mildly distraught and just a little confused regarding my encounter with Mr Toro, or Ray if you wanted to humanise him. I'd just never quite met a teacher like him... ever. It was weird to say the least, but I needed to find Mikey. He could have been killed by now, or something equally as morbid that I'd prefer greatly not to think about.

Despite how much I hated the younger Way brother, I just couldn't leave him to The Killers; they were ruthless, they wouldn't stop if they didn't want to. Fuck, they could kill him if they wanted to do, but I don't think they would, because Mikey is really a valuable asset to Skully; without him, The Killers are just a bunch of over aggressive morons with a particular dislike to everyone that looked at them in mildly the wrong manner.

Mikey gave them the brains, the planning, the sting to their bite; he was the key asset of the killing machine, and somehow, somehow, I felt duty-bound to help him. This really was an utter mess, but what aspect of my life wasn't?

I jogged down through the school gates to the field where The Killers usually hung around. I didn't particularly want an encounter with them, but surely this would be where Mikey would go? Fuck, I didn't know, but guilt was consuming me from the inside and I just needed to ensure Mikey was okay before all my organs imploded. Organ implosion wouldn't be the best circumstance - that was for sure.

The thing is, Mikey didn't have to get me out of that music room, but he did, and that's the most confusing factor of all. Why? I couldn't answer that question, no matter quite how hard I tried. I began to suspect that maybe it was somehow something to do with Gerard, but even that felt like a long shot.

Mikey was opposed to even the fact that we knew each other's names. I think he didn't want anyone to know that Gerard existed, because beneath it all, he was scared, embarrassed maybe? But overall scared of what people would think, of what people would say. He's not that much of a coward, though, because he's scared for Gerard too, but he needn't be - Gerard isn't scared of anything, I don't think.

As I approached a clump of vegetation that backed onto a stone wall, providing a small oasis of shade against the harsh midday sunlight beating down upon the rest of the field, I noticed a figure curled up against the trunk of a mildly overgrown oak tree. They were unrecognisable; a silhouette in the midday sun, but I had a pretty good guess as to who it could be.

The oak tree had been there as long as I can remember, and its branches grew over the wall and twisted round like shouts of ivy. It gave a kind of eerie, fucked up fairy-tale feel, and I was just a little scared that the figure would be dead or something else that would match the aforementioned atmosphere.

"Frank!" The figure called out my name, my eyes darting in his direction immediately; I was relieved to find Mikey, leading up against the tree trunk, his eyes squinting as he peered out over the sun blazened expanse of grass. And I was even more relieved to find him very much not dead.

"Mikey, are you okay?" I rushed over to the guy, ignoring all my previous dislike towards the guy, because The Killers could have knocked him within inches of death and it'd be my fault and never could I live with that. I have a conscience, you see - I don't think Mikey has much of one, though. He isn't entirely guilt devoid, it just dwells in small quantities within that expanse of grey matter he has up there.

"Dude, I'm fine." He grinned awkwardly at me, taking my outstretched hand and pulling himself up. He brushed the dirt off his jeans, before looking back up at me, "are you okay?"

Funny how the tables turned. I was okay, I thought, but I wasn't entirely sure, because I don't think that either us were quite sure as to what the definition of 'okay' really was. It really did vary, depending upon the situation and just how much self-pity dwelled within my veins at that certain moment in time.

"Yeah, well... kind of." I mumbled, not quite sure if I even had the capacity to make the vaguest amount of sense whatsoever. I wasn't exactly the William Wordsworth of explanations, and especially the disgruntled kind.

"I'm okay, just kind of disgruntled." I finally settled up on a relatively coherent explanation. It wasn't the best by any means, but it'd serve its purpose at the very least, and I was content with that.

"What happened?" He ran a hand through his hair, glancing around frantically before putting a cigarette between his lips and lit it. The guy clearly had no problem whatsoever with smoking on school property, of course not that a single teacher would mind.

Mr Toro might not take well to students smoking, but he seemed to like me, so if Mikey was good in my books then I'm sure the same would apply, but the problem was exactly that - I really hadn't a clue as to where the hell Mikey stood, whether he was even within my books at all, or whether this was just a shitty ass metaphor entirely.

I just found myself staring at him as he smoked, reminding myself of just how much I missed and needed Gerard. He was important; I wanted to inhale his second-hand smoke and cuddle up to him for hours, and maybe... just maybe, we could kiss again.

It was weird how much Mikey could remind me of Gerard at times, and I really did not like that - it made my head spin, and the contents of my stomach take the quickest exit possible. Mikey and Gerard seemed like two vastly different people, but I really couldn't shake the fact that they were brothers, as close as close could be.

"You're staring..." He looked at me blankly and a blush made no hesitance in filling my cheeks. I didn't want to explain to him as to just how I was imagining making out with his brother, and how when he smoked, he reminded me of Gerard greatly.

"Sorry, I... just-" I inhaled a deep breath of air, catching some of Mikey's smoke along with the oxygen - it wasn't the same as Gerard's. Gerard's smoke was different, it was more nicotine and less tar - it was addictive, dangerous and beautiful. It made me want to kiss him and slap him at the same time. Gerard was a graceful smoker.

Mikey's smoke was a tar filled mixture that reminded me nothing more of the cancer cells that would be sure to clutter up his lungs. Mikey wasn't a graceful smoker.

"It doesn't matter." I mumbled, my eyes diverting to the floor as I kicked the dirt relentlessly with the toes of my sneakers. I watched as a family of woodlice fled from under a rock I'd turned over. They scuttled across the hot dirt plains to find another home to settle under in the dark and damp.

I wanted to do that; I wanted to be able to spend my life hiding, but no, I had to stay out and face the sun, and make stupid metaphors about wanting to be a woodlouse. Another day in the life of Frank Iero.

"How did you get out of that music room this time?" Mikey's question was more direct this time, and I tried to actually concoct some form of response as opposed to getting overly caught up in his smoking.

The art of nicotine inhalation was destructive yet somehow oddly beautiful, I didn't think I'd ever try it - I'm too much of a pussy, but I was more than happy to watch as a creature as beautiful as Gerard Way took in continuous breaths of nicotine.

"They never quite managed to lock me in." He raised his eyebrows at that, probably imagining that I pulled some crazy Iron Man shit or the like, which I didn't, despite the fact that it'd be pretty cool to do, albeit impossible, but pretty cool nonetheless.

"There was this teacher in there already." This, of course, would be the answer that would surprise him more as opposed to the Iron Man thing that I touched upon previously. I would like to be Iron Man, or a woodlouse, but not Frank Iero, and guess which one of the three, I'm stuck with. No, last time I checked, woodlice weren't fluent in English. I'm Frank fucking Iero.

"You're kidding me?" He exclaimed with a chuckle; the situation being utterly preposterous, especially for someone with an ego inflated to the size of Alaska, someone like Mikey Way. Slightly harsh, but true.

"A teacher actually doing their job?" I nodded, despite his state of utter disbelief, wondering if he'd actually even believe me, "well, that's a first." He inhaled a longer drag of his cigarette; smoking like Gerard did. It felt weird.

"It's this new music teacher, Mr Toro. This is his first job - I doubt he'll even last a week." It was weird to talk to Mikey almost like we were friends, but I think this whole situation and the one involving Gerard and somehow landed us in a state of undetermined and unexpected friendship. Mikey Way really wasn't top of the list of people whom I wanted to be friends with, but I wasn't going to reject this friendship - I wasn't quite that arrogant.

"He says he wants to stop them from doing this to me." I confessed, Mikey just looked a little taken aback. "He really doesn't know what he's doing. Saying you'll stop Skully is asking for a death wish."

Mikey laughed a sadistic laugh, knowing just how fucking impossible that would be to accomplish. "Well, I wish him good luck with that." I nodded, because I wished Ray it too.

"Yeah..." I sighed, my eyes drifting over the horizon, letting the silence overcome our conversation and swallow it whole, because I really didn't mind in the first place.

I was completely content with the silence, the only noise being the occasional audible inhalation of smoke from Mikey as he furiously burnt away that cancer stick. The smoking wasn't annoying, it was peaceful, and if I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend it was Gerard next to me. Almost. The tar stench was a distraction.

"Well if it isn't fag patrol!" A derogatory shout from a few metres away interrupted my peaceful silence instantly, my eyes flashing in the direction of the shout to see none other than Skully practically running in our direction, Vince, Ash and Zachariah following pathetic like a pack of dogs at his heels. They were well trained dogs, though - I could give him that at the very least, not that I particularly wanted to, but whatever.

"Shit!" Mikey exclaimed, stomping out his cigarette and I wondered if he was preparing for a fist fight, because I most certainly wasn't, being about as athletically adequate as a paralysed caterpillar. They would massacre me within seconds, and it wouldn't be pretty.

"I'm glad you've found your boyfriend, Iero." He glared at me and I shivered backwards, almost stumbling into Mikey who had now stood beside me, his eyes set out in Skully's direction like poison darts. I wondered as to who would actually win a fight between the two of them, because unlike myself and The Killers, Skully and Mikey were actually pretty equal.

"It's such a shame we haven't finished with him yet though, but we really haven't finished with you either, so I guess you can go down together." I wasn't exactly sure as to what he was implying, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good - it was Skully and I was sure of that at the very least.

He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering back between his cronies, almost signalling something. My pulse began to beat like a hummingbird's, my circulation going out of whack completely, and to the point that I felt as if I might pass out. Passing out really wouldn't be the majestic of ways to go, but part of me didn't care - I just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Goodbye, fags!" He snarled at the two of us, teeth bared like a wild animal, because that's all Skully was a wild animal that somehow stumbled into civilised society and was now trapped there as he attempted to desperately claw his way out.

"Bring it on, douchebag!" Mikey yelled back and right at that very moment, I knew things weren't going to be pretty. I considered legging when they were distracted with Mikey, but I couldn't just leave him here to their mercy, and he'd be far too stubborn to run off without at least some kind of a fight. That was Mikey Way in a nutshell, stubbornness, arrogance, confusion and one hell of a big ego; let's not even touch on his brother.

Skully aimed a kick at Mikey's stomach, which he only just marginally dodged. "Not so clever are we now, Michael?" Skully taunted, sneering at Mikey, who took advantage of this by aiming a strong punch to Skully's nose, which then began to drip blood in a concerning manner. I wasn't concerned for Skully at all, the blood just made me a little nauseous. It was pathetic I know, but so was the rest of me, so whatever.

I didn't know what to do, whether to help Mikey or not. I was about as good in a fight as an eighty five year old constrained to a wheelchair, so I thought maybe I'd only end up fucking things up for Mikey. Or was that just me being a coward and far too scared to face Skully and his cronies - fuck, I didn't have the slightest of clues.

Between blows, Skully did however notice my dawdling and turned momentarily to his cronies, who like me were standing dumbfounded like statues, "sort out Iero." And before I could comprehend as to what was happening, I had three heavy guys charging at me simultaneously. Fuck.

I was paralysed; my legs sinking into the ground - I couldn't even run, I just waited for the fists to hit me, and really, it was over far too soon. The ground was quick sand and I was dying, sinking, falling apart, really truly hopeless this time.

My legs gave out, I fell to the ground with the weight of their fists on top of me, and I couldn't retaliate - it was hardwired into me not to retaliate, because that always worsened the blows, and it'd always be over quicker if I didn't struggle, and under this weight I could barely struggle even if I wanted to.

I didn't know what was different this time, but somehow, it just reminded me of home, it reminded me of him.

-

My eyelids fluttered open and I was relieved to only have the painful ache of bruises as opposed to the continuous stinging of present wounds. I was safe at the very least and by safe I mean not in immediate danger - this didn't stop the fluttering of my heartbeat by any means whatsoever, of course.

It took me a few minutes to adjust to the light, but I could recognise that I was in some sort of a room - at the very least I still wasn't left to die out of that field, my flesh baking away in the sun. Maybe if I died, I could be reincarnated as a woodlouse and live a happy life under rocks and shit. I didn't believe in reincarnation though, and I wasn't particularly sure if I believed in heaven either anymore, but without any heaven, I just didn't want to think that mum was just lying there lifeless and six feet under. She didn't deserve that at all.

My hearing came to my senses first; the distorted static noises suddenly 'popped' back into words, almost as if I'd magically regained my ability to understand English. I would have loved to have that ability in French class, but the world wouldn't quite have it like that.

"Frank, are you awake?" Mikey's voice; I recognised it instantly, and gathered the motivation to peel my eyelids open and look at him. He had a cup across his lip and purple bruise across his left cheek that really looked nasty. I shivered a little at the sight of his wounds.

"You look bad..." I mumbled, my words coming out in a groggy tone, as I barely managed to turn myself over from the awfully uncomfortable position I was lying on a sofa in. Who's sofa? I didn't have a fucking clue, and quite frankly that thought had barely crossed my mind by now.

He just chuckled, a little sadistically, but it somehow remained a light hearted chuckle despite that, "dude, you're way worse. They fucking slaughtered you." I winced at the use of that word, propping myself up against the back of the sofa he'd presumably laid my unconscious body on.

"Where the fuck are we?" I moaned, rubbing my eyes and assessing my surroundings. I couldn't focus on the details awfully that much due to this banging headache The Killers had knocked into me, but I was more than able to note that there was wallpaper everywhere in a certain shade of sickening yellow that was making my eyes felt like they were bleeding, which was quite possibly a worse state than what the rest of my body was in now.

"My living room." Mikey chuckled a little, noticing my face of disgust regarding the wallpaper, "it was there when we bought the place, don't worry."

"This is your house." It wasn't a question, or barely even a statement, I was just letting the concept run through reality, because this wasn't just Mikey's house, it was Gerard's too, and that both scared me and excited me.

"Yeah, by it being my living room I thought you would have guessed that." He chuckled a little just to show he was joking, but I wasn't really listening, my mind on a different topic entirely, on one of a certain Gerard Way.

I hated how much I cared about the bastard and I hated how perfect he was and I hated how he smoke gracefully like a white girl and how he kissed me perfectly, and that combination of hatred, somehow, some fucking how, made me fall treacherously in love with him.

"It's fine if you stay overnight or whatever, because in the state you're in I wouldn't let you walk home now and quite frankly... I can't drive." Overnight? No. I needed to be home before he noticed I was gone far too long. I just prayed it wasn't too late by now, because he wouldn't like this, he wouldn't like this at all.

"What time is it?" I panicked, my eyes darting round the room in the frantic search for a clock, but to no avail, which only led me to question as to what kind of people don't have one fucking clock in their living room. Mikey Way, apparently.

"About half six." He said all too casually for the panic that was running frantically from one side of my head to the other. "You were out for all that time, yeah." Fuck. He was going to punch me so hard; I'd be knocked out for double that time.

"Shit." I needed to get home, despite the beating I'd get when I returned home, but I knew it'd only worsen as time passed. "I need to go." My words were strong with persistence, but Mikey couldn't care less. Fucking bastard.

I tried to get up from the sofa, but he pushed me back down with a firm hand, "you're not going anywhere. I can't drive you, as we've covered." I'd fucking walk then.

"Can't your mum or something?" I pushed the matter with all the importance it required.

"She's on work vacation for the next few days." Fuck, fuck. I was going to have to stumble home, no matter how far the Way residence was from mine to get back to my father before the beating only worsened.

"I'll walk you home in the morning, but seriously don't feel awkward - you can stay here overnight. I don't mind and I don't give a shit if Gerard does." The older Way brother had entered my head once again - fuck.

Gerard Way, another matter that was haunting my mind.

"You don't give a shit if I what?" My head spun around at the sound of his voice, and sure enough, Gerard Way himself had just walked into his own living room. Fuck. What a fucking surprise. 

He was dressed casually, in black sweatpants and a Smashing Pumpkins shirt that either wasn't his or just horribly oversized. It draped over his frame as if he'd attached a curtain to himself rather than a t-shirt. His hair clearly hadn't been washed for a few days, and was growing out to the length of his face, the red colour still quite obnoxiously apparent.

His eyes met with mine almost instantly. I didn't know how the fuck to react, I mean how do we continue after kissing after this? This mess and the whole situation. Fuck, I was staying overnight in a house with Gerard Way... and his brother who may just utterly despise the fact that we even are in acknowledgement of one another's existence.

This was a royal fucking mess, dear god. I'd end up jacking off simply to the fact that Gerard was in the same fucking house as me, he was just fuck... beautiful. This was going to be my ruin, I knew it, and I knew it all too fucking well.

"If you mind that Frank's staying overnight." Mikey's eyes met with Gerard, stealing his gaze away from me. I looked between the two of them; Mikey had his arms crossed and his gaze stern, almost expecting Gerard to put up some kind of fight. Gerard's posture however, was the complete opposite; he was leaning casually against the wall, one leg hanging casually in front of the other and his arms hanging loosely.

"Why's Frank staying overnight? I thought you hated him." Gerard was apparently socially unaware towards my existence, or just feeling particularly spiteful towards Mikey. Probably the latter, considering just how he'd looked at me only moments ago.

"These douchebags beat us up, and they knocked him out so I took him here." Mikey's words were calm, cool, and for once, actually the truth.

"What, your friends?" Gerard was going all out on this one, and I'd be lying if his clever come back didn't make me chuckle just a little.

"No-" Mikey sighed, choosing just to ignore his brother entirely. "He's too weak to get home now, that's why he's staying." I was utterly against this with all my being, but of course, Mikey wouldn't take me the slightest bit seriously.

"No, it's fine I could get-" I interrupted, trying and failing to meditate between them, or rather just remove myself from the situation entirely. Either was good, but the latter had a horrible lack of Gerard Way. My apparent addiction to the oldest Way brother and his smoking habits was really kind of creepy, but I rationalised it with the fact that he kissed me back.

"You are not walking home now." Mikey's voice was stern and he was kind of talking to me like I was a small child. Despite my height, I was in fact, a seventeen year old. And weirder still, Gerard was twenty two.

It just sank in. I'd kissed a twenty two year old, someone five years old than me. He was an adult.... that was illegal, wasn't it, fuck? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I was in love with him, and he was an adult, legal in all respects, to drink, to smoke, to drive, to buy whatever the fuck he wanted, to fuck other adults, and I was just a fucking kid in junior year that had fallen in love with him.

This had to stop, but it couldn't, not now. I felt intoxicated, disgusted yet infatuated. I was a kid, barely a kid, but a kid nonetheless and he was dangerous and twenty two and so fucking beautiful.

"I can drive him." Gerard offered, and my eyes widened at that. A car journey alone with Gerard... fuck, I don't even know how that'd work out, with Gerard Way and his twenty two year old self and his legal rights, and his ability to vote. I wanted to be eighteen more than I could possibly scream, but it wasn't my birthday for a while yet, I'd stay seventeen and Gerard would stay twenty two.

"Your license got revoked." Mikey snapped at him, and Gerard pouted, suddenly seeming a lot less like a twenty two year old, and more like a cute guy, Frank's cute guy, boyfriend maybe. No, that wouldn't fucking happen. I had an over active imagination, that was all.

"I don't care." Gerard snapped like a pre-schooler this time, and it made me chuckle a little.

"You should." Mikey spat, clearly more than a little pissed off with his brother, "and you're not getting rid of him that easily."

"Ahem, I'm not getting rid of him, he wanted to go home, so I only offered to-" Gerard began to explain, but Mikey interrupted him within seconds.

"Shut up, Gee." Gerard looked like he was about to march off elsewhere, but he didn't, he stayed. Why he did though, I didn't have a fucking clue. Gee was a cute nickname, there wasn't a doubt about that, though. I wanted to call him Gee, but at the same time I couldn't quite bare to.

"So where is he going to be staying overnight?" Gerard asked, looking Mikey up and down. I was both thankful and sad that his gaze had missed me entirely. "You're not planning on keeping him on the sofa?" The sofa was fine by me, especially if it kept me away from the mess of Gerard Way that was haunting my head.

"What? Are you offering up your bed?" Gerard's cheeks tinged a little pink at that, and I had to bury my face in a pillow to hide the mammoth of a blush that crept onto my face. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was twenty two, did I have to blast that fucking Taylor Swift song at full volume constantly to remind myself of that, or could I possibly manage to remember that I was fucking seventeen?

Gerard ignored his question, something I was very fucking glad of, "are you just going to leave him down here alone all night?" He snapped at Mikey, trying to pull guilt out of his little brother, but it wouldn't work - the guilt card never worked on Mikey fucking Way.

"Since when did you care?" Mikey was clearly very experienced in the art of arguing with Gerard Way, and by living with the guy, I guess you didn't have much of a choice; especially that both Mikey and Gerard were fucking stubborn beyond belief.

"Since when did you?" Gerard clearly was just as expertised as Mikey, and he most definitely was not going to let his young brother win this one.

"Guys-" I tried to interrupt, but Mikey wasn't having any of it, as usual.

"Gerard, he's my fucking friend." Well, that was new. Mikey my fucking friend? That was just weird. That was fucking weird as shit. Mikey... just it felt weird.

"How about you ask him what he wants to do?" And then suddenly both pairs of hazel eyes were on me, and I could do nothing but panic and try not to focus ridiculous hard on just how important this fucking five year age gap was.

"Uhh... I don't mind, it's fine. I'd be barely getting much sleep with all this aching regardless." I confessed, just wishing myself away and wondering if I could just fucking pass out and never have to wake up- oh wait... that was called dying.

"See, he's fine." Mikey persisted, yet Gerard looked unsatisfied with my state of wellbeing.

"Whatever you think, Mikey." Gerard rolled his eyes at his brother, his tone reeking of sarcasm. "But I'm getting the spare mattress, and he's sleeping in my room." Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. He was twenty two, twenty fucking two, but my brain couldn't quite manage to register that.

"No, he's not." Mikey's tone was stern. "He doesn't want to." Mikey was right, but so fucking wrong at the same time. I couldn't, but wanted to such much.

"What are you going to do if that shit gets infected at two am or some shit and you're not even on the same floor as him?" Oh my god, I did not want to become a walking puss monster.

"And since when were you a fucking first aid professional?" Mikey retorted, and I was not sure if he was partaking in this argument for any other reason than to spite Gerard.

"I did that course remember." He smirked at Mikey in an overly proud manner.

"In fifth grade." Mikey reminded him.

"Yeah, well I didn't chicken out of it, did I?" His smirk only increased.

"Whatever. Take him into your room." Mikey rolled his eyes. His gaze then turned to me, "Frank if you don't want-"

"It's fine. Gerard's probably right just in case it gets infected." Mikey just looked at me weirdly. Fuck, I'd just signed my death warrant.

"Give a shout if you need me, okay?"

"So now you care so much?" Gerard raised his eyebrows at his brother.

"Shut the fuck up." Mikey rolled his eyes, "I'm not helping carry him upstairs, though."

"I can walk-"

"Upstairs? Good luck." Then Mikey ran away up the aforementioned stairs, disappearing into what I presumed to be his room, and leaving me alone with Gerard.

Fuck.

Part of me was panicking to hell, but part of me had never been happier, but as I began to realise that I'd be spending the night in Gerard's room, with Gerard, my blood began pumping throughout my veins at an alarmingly rapid rate.

My vision went blurry and I found myself slipping through the fingers of consciousness as I felt arms grasp around me.

They were his arms - I could tell.

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