Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > And I'll End This Direst: a Frerard story
Gerard’s POV
Oh, God. A car stopped across the street and three got out and started to walk toward our car. I identified two of them right away as Alex and Eric. I didn’t recognize Mikey at first; I hadn’t seen him since I was twelve, and he’s changed since then.
He no longer has glasses, and his hair isn’t long and light brown anymore. Now it’s darker and shorter, and the only thing that made me realize it was him was his angular jawbone and sharp chin.
“Mikey?” I asked, watching him cross the street to Bob’s car that we were in.
“Oh, shit. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Frank said.
“Who called you? Who did you talk to?” Bob asked, his voice growing louder.
“My dad… oh, shit,” Frank replied, eyes widening.
“What the hell… is that a knife?!” Bob shouted, fumbling to start the car.
A knife? Just like the last time this happened… only instead of Bert, Mikey got Eric and Alex to do the job. I was freaking out; this was it.
Eric and Mikey, led by Alex and the knife, were getting closer considerably fast, and they were almost at the car before Bob scuffled and dropped his key. He cursed as a fist crashed through his window, narrowly missing his face as shards left little lines of blood on his cheek.
“Bob, just get out of the car!” Frank cried, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the passenger’s side door. I couldn’t even get out; I was immobilized with fear. Mikey, Eric, Alex, and the knife were getting closer by the second, and Frankie and Bob were still standing by the car, trying to get me to go. Finally, I found the intelligence to move, and I got out of the car, shutting the door only to be shoved back up against it.
Mikey was standing directly in front of me, pinning me up against the car door. Frank and Bob stood, terrified, on the other side of the car, trapped by Eric and an armed Alex.
Mikey brought his face dangerously close to mine, menacingly, until it was no more than a few inches away. “Hello, big brother,” he said with a slight snarl, “Miss me?” He drew back his fist and threw it forward, clocking me right in the face.
And the whole time, I couldn’t think about the pain or the fear. All I could think about was getting Frankie the hell out of here before Mikey got to him, too.
Frank’s POV
Seeing someone getting punched in the face by their own brother was probably something a lot of people saw in their lifetime, but when it happened to Gerard it hurt me more than it hurt him. I gasped, and behind me, Eric and Alex took a step forward. Mikey cocked his arm back again, ready for a second hit, but Gerard somehow blocked it, sending a punch of his own Mikey’s way.
The four of us on the other side watched the two brothers fight as if they weren’t brothers at all. Finally snapping into action after a while, Alex and Eric went over to aid Mikey, and Bob and I went to help Gerard.
The jocks could move fast, though: the three of them had Gerard on the ground bleeding before Bob or I could even move.
“Shit, Gee! Leave him alone, assholes!” I panicked, unable to contain myself. I knew I was no match for the strong, athletic jocks, but I had Bob, and hopefully he could fight. I rushed over to Gerard and miraculously threw Alex off him, while Bob took Mikey head-on.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I heard him mutter, and I watched as he threw the best punch I’d ever seen to Mikey’s stomach. Mikey doubled over with a grunt, and from that position, Bob brought his knee up to meet Mikey’s face. Blood trickled down from Mikey’s nose, and I felt satisfied as little drops hit the pavement.
That is, until I heard a cry behind me. Alex had apparently gotten up and rejoined Eric in beating up Gee, who was still on the ground. Blood covered his face and hands, and I ran back to him, going over to my ex-best friend this time. I tackled Eric from behind, sending him toppling to the ground.
He thrashed wildly, trying to hit me, but I was blocking him easily. I threw a few punches to the face and stomach, and he eventually grew tired. Bob walked along and kicked him in the head, just hard enough to make him go unconscious.
Meanwhile, Gee had gotten up and was fighting off Alex. He’d done it once; he can do it again, right? Only last time, Alex didn’t have a knife on him. Mikey had gotten up off the ground and was helping his only conscious friend by fighting Bob, leaving no one for me to fight or help. I ran to help Gerard anyway; Bob seemed to be okay by himself.
Mikey’s POV
I was fighting Bob Bryar, something I’ve always wanted to do. He’d gotten in my way once too often in our old school back in Chicago, and now it was finally about time he paid for it.
Only, he was a better fighter than I thought. Every punch I threw, he blocked; every kick or elbow, he dodged and returned with his own. I was starting to get frustrated, and I could tell Alex was starting to need help with the two people he was fighting. I needed to get rid of Bryar as quickly as I could.
I reached over to Alex behind me and slipped the knife out of his pocket. Bob saw me and tried to get away, but I was too quick for him. In a blur, I thrusted the knife forward, stabbing Bryar directly in the lower stomach.
He fell to the ground. A smile crept across my face, then a laugh.
Oh, God. A car stopped across the street and three got out and started to walk toward our car. I identified two of them right away as Alex and Eric. I didn’t recognize Mikey at first; I hadn’t seen him since I was twelve, and he’s changed since then.
He no longer has glasses, and his hair isn’t long and light brown anymore. Now it’s darker and shorter, and the only thing that made me realize it was him was his angular jawbone and sharp chin.
“Mikey?” I asked, watching him cross the street to Bob’s car that we were in.
“Oh, shit. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Frank said.
“Who called you? Who did you talk to?” Bob asked, his voice growing louder.
“My dad… oh, shit,” Frank replied, eyes widening.
“What the hell… is that a knife?!” Bob shouted, fumbling to start the car.
A knife? Just like the last time this happened… only instead of Bert, Mikey got Eric and Alex to do the job. I was freaking out; this was it.
Eric and Mikey, led by Alex and the knife, were getting closer considerably fast, and they were almost at the car before Bob scuffled and dropped his key. He cursed as a fist crashed through his window, narrowly missing his face as shards left little lines of blood on his cheek.
“Bob, just get out of the car!” Frank cried, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the passenger’s side door. I couldn’t even get out; I was immobilized with fear. Mikey, Eric, Alex, and the knife were getting closer by the second, and Frankie and Bob were still standing by the car, trying to get me to go. Finally, I found the intelligence to move, and I got out of the car, shutting the door only to be shoved back up against it.
Mikey was standing directly in front of me, pinning me up against the car door. Frank and Bob stood, terrified, on the other side of the car, trapped by Eric and an armed Alex.
Mikey brought his face dangerously close to mine, menacingly, until it was no more than a few inches away. “Hello, big brother,” he said with a slight snarl, “Miss me?” He drew back his fist and threw it forward, clocking me right in the face.
And the whole time, I couldn’t think about the pain or the fear. All I could think about was getting Frankie the hell out of here before Mikey got to him, too.
Frank’s POV
Seeing someone getting punched in the face by their own brother was probably something a lot of people saw in their lifetime, but when it happened to Gerard it hurt me more than it hurt him. I gasped, and behind me, Eric and Alex took a step forward. Mikey cocked his arm back again, ready for a second hit, but Gerard somehow blocked it, sending a punch of his own Mikey’s way.
The four of us on the other side watched the two brothers fight as if they weren’t brothers at all. Finally snapping into action after a while, Alex and Eric went over to aid Mikey, and Bob and I went to help Gerard.
The jocks could move fast, though: the three of them had Gerard on the ground bleeding before Bob or I could even move.
“Shit, Gee! Leave him alone, assholes!” I panicked, unable to contain myself. I knew I was no match for the strong, athletic jocks, but I had Bob, and hopefully he could fight. I rushed over to Gerard and miraculously threw Alex off him, while Bob took Mikey head-on.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I heard him mutter, and I watched as he threw the best punch I’d ever seen to Mikey’s stomach. Mikey doubled over with a grunt, and from that position, Bob brought his knee up to meet Mikey’s face. Blood trickled down from Mikey’s nose, and I felt satisfied as little drops hit the pavement.
That is, until I heard a cry behind me. Alex had apparently gotten up and rejoined Eric in beating up Gee, who was still on the ground. Blood covered his face and hands, and I ran back to him, going over to my ex-best friend this time. I tackled Eric from behind, sending him toppling to the ground.
He thrashed wildly, trying to hit me, but I was blocking him easily. I threw a few punches to the face and stomach, and he eventually grew tired. Bob walked along and kicked him in the head, just hard enough to make him go unconscious.
Meanwhile, Gee had gotten up and was fighting off Alex. He’d done it once; he can do it again, right? Only last time, Alex didn’t have a knife on him. Mikey had gotten up off the ground and was helping his only conscious friend by fighting Bob, leaving no one for me to fight or help. I ran to help Gerard anyway; Bob seemed to be okay by himself.
Mikey’s POV
I was fighting Bob Bryar, something I’ve always wanted to do. He’d gotten in my way once too often in our old school back in Chicago, and now it was finally about time he paid for it.
Only, he was a better fighter than I thought. Every punch I threw, he blocked; every kick or elbow, he dodged and returned with his own. I was starting to get frustrated, and I could tell Alex was starting to need help with the two people he was fighting. I needed to get rid of Bryar as quickly as I could.
I reached over to Alex behind me and slipped the knife out of his pocket. Bob saw me and tried to get away, but I was too quick for him. In a blur, I thrusted the knife forward, stabbing Bryar directly in the lower stomach.
He fell to the ground. A smile crept across my face, then a laugh.
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