Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > By the beating of our hearts is how we live. *Frikey*

Chapter 11: If light leaves your eyes, I'll salute the night.

by DisenchantedEnding 3 Reviews

We can only run until we find each other than run and cry some more.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Drama,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Mikey Way - Published: 2012/04/02 - Updated: 2012/04/02 - 1505 words

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Okay, before I start blubbering for forgiveness, I think you should know I have reasons. And I will give you cake if you don't hate me.. or if you do. I'm horrible, I know. D:
BUT, on the bright side, I got an A* for my story in English! :D

-hut hum-

I'M SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR NOT UPDATING I FEEL AWFUL AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT BUT I'VE BEEN SO BUSY OH MY GOD I'M SORRY.
There.

-Amberxoxoxoxox
(extra kisses and hugs because I'M SO SORRY



It was like the whole world had slowed down around him.

No. No. Not around him. Just slowed down. Frank was not the only person on the goddamned earth, and he wouldn't act like it. That's what got him into this mess: The curiosity, the need to find out something to fulfill himself.

And that was selfish.

Was, is... To Frank, nothing mattered anymore. Not the feud with Lucy, which seemed to be patching itself up, not his Ex - Gerard, not music, not food, not his parents, not his cuts, not...

Not anything. Nothing mattered except Mikey. Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, Mikey.

Mikey. His Mikey. The Mikey he hurt. The Mikey he loved. The Mikey he didn't get. The Mikey he kissed. The Mikey he wanted. The Mikey he needed.

The Mikey that may well have been leaving the earth at that second.

So Frank began running across the car park. He sprinted through bitter winds and salty tears, shouts and cries and slamming footsteps. Through the ghosts of memories and shadows of cigarettes. Through coarse strings and old days.

He ran and jogged and sprinted and jumped, trying to reach the front doors of the school before anyone else. And, in reality, he was there. In his mind, he still had a whole lot of running to do.

So, as he pushed open the door, panting manically under his breath, he ignored the ogling eyes of girls, the scoffs of boys, indignant cries of teachers, and pushed through the swarm of buzzing characters before finally, finally, reaching the door of the counselors room.

It was only when Miss. Caines had caught up with Frank, shaky fingers unlocking the door, that the nervousness hit Frank like a ton of bricks, and the worry crashed down on him harder than before. His palms were sweating, pulse bursting, as he fell into the room and the door shut behind him.

Mikey, safe and sound, was sitting in one of the cubbie chairs, curled up into a ball and fiddling with his fingers. He didn't look up; he was dead.

Metaphorically, guys. He's 'safe and sound'. XD

Frank didn't know whether to kiss him to death or beg for forgiveness, or perhaps run away.

No. That was the one thing he wouldn't be doing.

"Mi-" he throat crackled, so he coughed and let shaking hands reach out as he began to walk forward, jeans rubbing. "Mikey," he whispered.

Something inside of Mikey stirred at the voice, something fluttery and light and loving and sweet and innocent and-

but then came the anger and the shame. The melancholy feeling.

And then, disguising all of those emotions, came the tainting blackness and blotted into the rips of his heart, shining like black ink and dribbling like goo.

As Frank crouched in front of Mikey, taking the boys shaking hands in his own, he watched Mikey gasp despairingly and rip himself away, squeezing his eyes shut.

The older's heard dropped. "Mikey..." he mumbled, tears forming in his hazel orbs. "Mikey I am so sorry. I have never been so ashamed or sorry. I have never hated myself as much as I do now." I gasp for air in between his cries. "I'm just.." Frank shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I'm a horrible person, I-"

"You're not horrible," Mikey murmured. "You're right."

Frank's brows dropped as a tears brushed past his nose. "I'm... I thought y-you weren't talking."

Mikey's disjointed eyes looked up to stare at Frank. They looked lifeless, bland, like they had never seen a ray of sun, heard the tweeting of a bird, seen the smile of a true love. "And where did that get me?" he mumbled, looking back to his fingers. "Nowhere."

"Mikey, I.." Frank tried his luck by placing his hand on Mikey's knee. "I don't understand, honey. Please tell me what you mean."

Mikey met Frank's eyes. "By not talking, I didn't gain anything. I was picked on and beaten, hurt by you, no matter how right you were, and I was upsetting everyone I love.. you, mum, Gerard. And it hurt.." The boy sighed. "It still does."

Frank closed his eyes and breathed out. "I'm sorry, Mikey. I am. But I still don't understand."

Mikey's smile was unstable and quivering. "You can't," was all he said. "No one can."

The clock on the wall clicked on routine. The two boys breaths came steady.

"Let me try," Frank murmured. "Please just let me try."

As his nose brushed with Mikey's, his sighed and closed his eyes lightly, realising just how close he was to him. How their souls felt entwined in the silence.

Mikey's sigh was one of bliss and struggle. Whether to tell Frank or not, he didn't know. But he also knew that silence got him nowhere.

"He told me if I was silent, it would hurt less," he decided with. "And it did."

A sudden, horrific thought overcame Frank and he shot back, eyes wide. "Mikey... your dad didn't..."

Mikey's eyes glimmered in the torment of past memories. "Not my dad," he said. His voice was choked with tears. "But his friend."

The room, for once, was utterly, completely silent.

"I was thir-fucking-teen. I was embarrassed. I was weedy and weak and I didn't know how to defend myself. I didn't think that sort of thing could happen to a guy, let alone... let alone under consent."

Tears washed down the younger's face. "Yet it did."

Frank, disgusted, hid all emotion from his face and held Mikey's shaking hands. He leaned in close. "Whose consent, Mikey?"

The eyes of the younger darkened. They looked dead and angry, like all along something was missing and only recently had it been found. And the fury was fresh.

"My dad. My dad gave consent for some.. some man to go upstairs and-"

He blinked.

"Do that. To me. When I was thirteen."

Frank simply stared at Mikey as he looked off into space, now spitting out his words. Frank knew, then, that he wasn't the only disgusted on.e

"But you know what's worse?" Mikey asked, looked to Frank. He gave a bitter, sour laugh. "It wasn't even a misunderstanding; he gave consent more than once, just knowing he was killing me inside. Knowing I was silent for a reason. All so he could pay off fucking gambling dept."

An estranged tear, making Frank grip his hands tighter and move in closer, almost hugging the boy. "And I only found this out last night. The night I found out that he wasn't actually dead."

"Who wasn't actually dead, Mikey?" Frank's voice was a simple, silent breath. It was hardly audible.

Then, as Mikey looked up, he realized the pain caught in not only his own eyes and tears, but those of Frank's, too, and he felt more loved and more appreciated than he ever had before. He grasped Frank's hands back and smiled weakly, though it looked struggled and faint.

But it still managed to tug on the strings of Frank's heart.

"Richard," he muttered. "The.. friend. Dad told Gerard and I he died in a car accident. But after having him tell me for so many weeks to stay quiet and tell no one.. I didn't know what to do."

"And you remained silent..." Frank finished. "Oh, Mikey, I am so sorry... You shouldn't have had to have gone through that. That's diabollic. If your dad, if that Richard shit, thinks they can get away with doing that, then they're sorely mistaken-"

"Frank," Mikey mumbled, suddenly looking like a lost puppy.

Frank's tough exterior faded. "What, honey?" he asked, centering himself in front of Mikey, hands on the younger's knees. "What's wrong?"

Mikey only let out a small cry. "You don't understand. He may have done that then, but how do you think I know he's still alive?"

Clockworks exploded inside Frank's head. "He didn't? That fucking cunt," he spat, "That piece of no good fucking shit-"

"No, Frank, he didn't. He tried to but.. I'm stronger now, you know."

Frank almost bursting with pride. "And?"

Mikey's face dropped. "And.. Frank.. I...."

A large, unsettling gulp.

"Frank, I killed him."

DUH NA NUUUUUUUUUUUUH. Okay, yeah. Haha. I hope this was good and okay and stuff, and not too predictable, but uhm.. yeah, you'll see. I think there's going to be about three chapters more?

I love you all even if you don't love me! Free cake for everyone!
-Amberxo

R&R? :D
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