"The last thing he needed was Frank Iero sticking his tongue down his precious throat."
As much as I wanted to let myself be absolutely furious at Frankie for jeopardising Mikey’s highly unstable emotional state, I found that I just couldn’t justify it. Not without fully admitting the full extent of the blame that rested heavily on my incapable shoulders to myself, something which I desperately didn’t want to do for that would mean letting my guilty soul be fully aware of the cruel damage that I had inflicted upon the one I was supposed to protect from the very damage I had inflicted; my baby brother. I wanted so badly to scream at Frank until my lungs dissolved into cyanide and his ears were bleeding as my little brother would have been had we not found him in time. I longed to beat the shit out of him until he had no functioning heart to hand to my wreck of a brother.
I know that I said I thought they would be cute together, but after learning how reckless Frank was able to be with Mikey’s glass-like heart I wasn’t so sure; the last thing I wanted was for my fragile brother to get obliterated inside by my best friend. I was appalled that Frank had let his own desires and wants control his actions instead of what my baby brother needed. And the last thing he needed was Frank fucking Iero sticking his tongue down his precious throat. I don’t mean this in a spiteful or vindictive way, but Frank isn’t exactly known for having great relationships. He flirts with pretty much every female member of the populace, is that really the sort of person anybody would want their little brother to go out with? Not to mention Frank’s not even gay, not to our knowledge anyway. If I ever find out that Frank genuinely wasn’t doing what he thought was best, but kissed Mikes for his own selfish, lustful reasons or even as some sort of messed up experiment, I swear to whatever force that controls this cruel world that I will personally see to it that he’ll never be able to kiss again.
There was one reason above all of the others, even the fact that he’s my best friend, that forced me to give him the benefit of the doubt and refrain from slaughtering him on sight; my Mikey.
Mikes had confided in me the past summer that he was gay. How bad it made him feel whenever he saw the “cool kids” beating up openly gay or bi students just because they didn’t fit in with everyone else’s idea of “normal”. How he wouldn’t tell anyone else through of being judged and getting beaten up even more than he already did; that particular thought made me feel physically sick, not just the fact that my brother was living a lie, but the fact that anyone could feel scared or ashamed of who they are just because some mindless jerks can’t get it into their thick heads that not everyone is identical to one another. He told me how he felt strange for not liking girls, not being able to join in when Frank or I talked about who we thought the best looking girl in Belleville was, how he felt left out and alienated because none of his other friends (myself and Frank) felt the same way he did. Well, maybe Frank did, he just never said anything. I had been very accepting of my little brother’s confession, of course; I held him tightly whenever he got upset or frustrated; I reassured him that he’s perfectly normal and very likeable whenever he felt like a freak; I stayed awake with him whenever his anxieties and worries denied him the momentary retreat of blessed sleep.
And the he’d told me that he had a thing for Frank Iero, my best friend and his only friend other than myself. Once again, I had been there for him, I had been the perfect and supportive big brother that he both needed and I wanted me to be. So, I guess that deep down within my snake-pit of feelings about the whole thing, I guess I was pleased that they knew how each other felt. It was just Frank’s timing that I vehemently oppose. I mean, who in their right mind would try to get with someone in the state that Mikes was in, who would willingly farther confuse a mixed-up enough kid if they actually cared about him? Well, apparently Frank Iero does. I just don’t want Mikes to lose that vital friendship that means so much to his tortured soul; I’m not sure if even I’d be able to help him through it if that were to ever happen.
I think that my subconscious was telling me to stop being a stupid bastard and actually be happy for my brother, happy that he had had his first kiss with the person that he wanted to share it with. I guess that I was happy about it really, it was just the timing of the miraculous revelations I had a major issue with; but then again the fact that the timing had been astoundingly terrible was down to me; but Frank shouldn’t have kissed Mikes when he was so precariously close to the edge of oblivion; however Mikes wouldn’t have been at the edge if my horrible hands hadn’t pushed him there; but Frank shouldn’t have kissed Mikey when he was feeling so confused and depressed; but Mikes wouldn’t have been so deeply and darkly depressed if it wasn’t for me…
I don’t know how long I sat, curled protectively around my sleeping baby brother as though I could defend him from the monstrosities that could occur when he awoke, playing a deafeningly silent, one-player version of the blame game. It was somewhat useful though as it got it into my thick skull that Mikey’s attempted suicide couldn’t be put down any one thing or any one person; Mikey had, unfortunately, tried to do what he did for a multitude of reasons.
Frankie was just one of them. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t momentarily hate him for it.
And I was another, possibly more responsible reason; and for that I loathe myself stronger than God hates Lucifer (if God exists, that is). I’m his big brother, for fuck’s sake, not one of the many good-for-nothing bastards who take pride in hurting my precious little bro. It stung to know that, although I normally help and would never hurt Mikes, I had acted like one of the people I seek to destroy; I know it was for just a few minutes but it was more than enough to slit my brother’s soul in half and to make me feel like I deserved to burn in hell for hurting him.
A dull thump tore me from my pitiful thoughts and my eyes from my weak baby brother. I looked to the source of the silence-breaking noise to Frank asleep in a heap on the floor, obviously having fallen off of his box; his hand up on my bed and reaching towards Mikey’s own, subconsciously outstretched one. I couldn’t help allow myself a smile at the sight, they did look extremely cute together. I sighed, thinking over everything; Frank, Mikey, Frank and Mikey. Maybe Frank’s timing hadn’t been too far off. Perhaps all Mikey needed was a loving relationship with somebody nice, somebody who cared about him and could make him laugh. Somebody like Frank.
Because his big brother wasn’t enough. Because his big brother wasn’t there for him when he’d needed me the most. Because his big brother had torn him to pieces. Because his brother is a failure at being his big brother.
A tear fell from my tired eyes, splattering like a drop of blood falling from a vampire’s fang onto Mikey’s ghostly pale cheek.
“Hmm?” He blinked groggily a few times, wriggling his nose slightly to adjust his trademark glasses that contributed to the list of pathetic excuses of so so-called “reasons” as to why he got beaten up. Great. Now I’d gone and cost my angst-ridden, anguished baby brother the respite of a dreamless sleep.
“Shush, go back to sleep, Mikey.” I whispered softly, leaning down and pecking his icy forehead. I pulled my Batman duvet tighter around us in response to his cold body.
There was about five minutes of nothing but the night’s relentless darkness, until I heard Mikey sniff and stir in my brotherly hold.
“Gee?” He squeaked, his tiny voice nervous and wounded with the bullets of his deadly tears.
“I’m here, Mikes,” I reassured down to him. I eased my over-protective grip ever so slightly so that he could sit up and snuggle his damp face into my safe, accepting chest.
“I love you, Gee.”
“I love you too, bro.” I smiled, happy that he seemed to have forgiven me for my earlier, uncalled for outburst that had caused all of this to be set into motion in the first place; not that Mikey would ever hold a grudge against someone, far from it. If someone is willing to apologize, Mikey will forgive them regardless of what they had done. It’s a quality that I both envy and worry about.
“Why does Frankie hate me?” He burst out into a storm of sobbing, causing Frank to awake and stumble hurriedly with the light switch. It illuminated the cause of my brother’s upset and, upon seeing his agonized facial expression, I couldn’t help but find myself feeling sorry for Frank. I started to rock Mikey back and forth lovingly, holding him closely to my chest to shatter any illusions of loneliness on his part. “Why does he hate me? Why doesn’t anyone love me? What the fuck’s wrong with me?!” His words and the cause of them ignited my blood and my heart exploded once more into pure, unbridled fury.
Rest in peace, Frank Anthony Iero. I hope you’re ready to lick the Devil’s ass.
A/N: Thanks for reading, I hope that you liked it! Please review and tell me what you like/dislike about it. :)