FicWad

A/N: Sorry about how generally short Mikey's chapters are...

Mikey Way was unaccustomed to spending endless hours in an interrogation room, surrounded by identical grey bricks spread across two meter long walls. So when Adam finally admitted him leave to the common room – whatever that was – he was not going to deny the offer.
The common room was a vast plastic room full to the brim with plastic chairs and plastic tables. There was a bar, that looked more like a trench than a bar, and a twenty-inch screen plastered upon the whitewashed wall. A handful of men in orange jumpsuits were reclined in the chairs closest to the television, dotted at various tables, so as to not intermingle with each other. Mikey, with a neutral regard, noted that each of them bore the 'am I tired or am I going to snap every bone in your carcass after I have skinned you alive, roasted you, and simmered you over the stove' expression. Mikey smiled inwardly. If anywhere, this is where I belong.
Mikey took a seat a few feet from the bar, and took a moment to appreciate how painstakingly white the room was. A criminal's heaven; minus the fact that if you tried to leave heaven, you would be cuffed, gagged, skinned alive, roasted and simmered over the stove.
He turned his focus to the television, which was a fluttering image of colours elaborately more vibrant than the rest of the scheme of the common room.
-So am I correct in thinking, Marie, that Toro has been given the option to be interviewed?-
-Correct you would be, Mark. In fact, I am currently waiting outside Mr Toro's hospital ward, waiting for permission of entrance to question him.-
-That is great to hear. We'll be back with you in two, Marie.-

I bet Mark and Marie are fucking in the office, Mikey thought self-appraisingly.

The news. Other inmates might find the toll of the day's crime, disaster, and nationwide stress taboo, but to Mikey, the news was a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Gerard's whereabouts, Mikey mused, would be guaranteed to be updated daily. Either Adam had set this up, or the common room staff did not feel obliged to update the interrogators on the content of the news.

Actually, Mikey considered, that would be a primary step to prevent feeding criminals more information. Jesus, how fucking slow can these people be? Real smooth, prison management.

Just as promised, Marie was back in two.
-Here I am Mark, just entering Toro's room,-

Here I am Mark, undress me Mark.

-Hello, Mr Toro. How is the treatment here at Olkahoma State Hospital helping you?-
-(sighing) I'm okay, Marie. The bullet wounds have been sewn, and cleaned. But they won't give me any alcohol. (laughs)-

Poor sod. Sorry fro, but the only reason anyone would laugh would be that they felt achingly sorry for you. Mikey thought bitterly.

-Well, would you mind recalling the events that happened three days ago, Mr Toro?-
-(sighing again) You see, Marie-

You see, Marie, I really am sleep deprived. Do you mind sleeping with me?

-I was taking my room-mate, Frank, for a check up at the hospital. It went fine, so we left at the evening. We were reversing when we realised something was wrong. Then before I knew it, I was shot, Frank had a gun to his head, and I blacked out. The last thing I saw was that bastard Way's face.-
Marie looked distraught at Ray's cussing. -That is awful. How are you feeling for Frank?-
Ray's lip dropped from a smirk. -I'm terrified for him.-

Just as other inmates were beginning to turn and glance at Mikey (as most of the prisoners were familiar with each other within their first week of admission) due to his name. People knew his brother was the one who shot the man on the news. Some of them, Mikey noted, looked somewhat impressed.

-The nation's thoughts are with yourself and your friend, Mr Toro.-
-I'd prefer their guns, so I could shoot the fucker ba-
The news cut off the rest of Ray Toro's speech.

Mikey could recall the scene, even now, five years on. Somehow, the accompaniment of rushing water still partitioned with the memory of Frank, standing there, half naked, defenceless, and on the edge of his scrawny, shredded life.

Oh fro, Mikey exhaled silently, if only you fucking knew, fro.