Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Sharpest Knives - Frerard
A/N: This is short and awful and all filler no killer I apologise
After having daily visits to the common room for a fortnight, being forcibly placed back in Adam's interrogation room was almost like being arrested once over. Mikey sat slumped on the restricting chair, his wrists bound together with metal cuffs which rested casually on his lap, and his waist strapped to the back of the chair with leather binds. He sighed, tapping his foot impatiently on the tiled floor. So much for finishing my fucking rounds, Mikey cursed mentally. The fuck has Gerard done now?
Because that was it, wasn't it? It was all Gerard's doing, Mikey's whole lifestyle. If Gerard hadn't got him into crime, he wouldn't have been with him on that hit-and-run. If Mikey hadn't been on that hit-and-run, he wouldn't have been arrested whilst Gerard got away. And if he hadn't been arrested and Gerard hadn't got away, taken an old, unknowing acquaintance for hostage, then Mikey wouldn't be sitting here, waiting to have information he didn't know wrung out of him one punch at a time.
The barred door creaked open, foreshadowing. Mikey smirked as Adam slunk into the cube-shaped room. God, he really doesn't know what a prick he is, does he?
“Morning, Mr. Way,” Adam smirked, parking himself in a plastic chair across from Mikey.
“Spare the niceties, the fuck do you want?” Mikey spat, shifting in his seat. The more you slump, the longer your dick. The longer your dick, the better your impression. But even Mikey knew that statement wasn't true. His brother might be bent as a roundabout, but Mikey was all about treating women right. Mam' would demolish me if she knew I'd even thought that, he shuddered involuntarily.
“I have a friend for you,” Adam guffawed.
Twat.
“I think that combining both of your knowledge would be extremely beneficial to our search for your brother.” Adam encouraged.
Mikey chuckled. “And why should I want my brother to get arrested?”
Adam frowned. “Because the bastard has a damn hostage, that's why.” Adam leant forward in his chair, staring Mikey straight in the eye. “Smith, let Toro in.”
The guard by the door, who was presumably Smith, leant robotically over to unlatch the door and encourage an olive skinned man into the room, who admittedly stole Mikey's breath for a few seconds.
Fuck.
The man who his brother had shot to steal his companion as hostage limped into the room, assisted by an off-site nurse dressed in brown and black cashmere. Ray descended heavily into a plastic chair, slightly further away from Mikey than Adam was. He scowled at Mikey as he laid his crutches onto the floor.
“Well,” the 'fro grunted, “here we bloody well are.”
Mikey said nothing, but looked the man up and down and raised an eyebrow in response.
Adam, sensing the inevitable tension, began to speak. “Mikey, Ray is here to share information with you so that the PD can further the investigation of Frank Iero's whereabouts, and subsequently your brother.”
At the sound of Frank's name Ray twitched, glaring everlastingly at Mikey.
Jesus fuckin' Christ, Gerard, Mikey mulled helplessly, what the fuck have you got me into?
“Tell us what you know,” Ray croaked, his brown eyes dilating and his jaw quivering and clenching with anger. “What the fuck has your brother done with my best-friend?”
Mikey barely batted an eyelid. The best way to provoke somebody, he had learnt, was to act as if they were completely invisible and irrelevant to everybody in the room.
Mikey was right, and Ray was becoming obviously more infuriated. “Answer me, dammit!” He cried, clutching at the arms of the plastic chair. “For fuck's sake, you deceiving shithead, answer me!”
Mikey sighed, shifting backwards. Was there any hope in this? If he did speak, how would it end for Frank? Himself and Gerard had been planning this for years, and the trajectory was finally in action, but the state of the grief-stricken man before him was actually inducing some emotion inside of him. Mikey watched the two men directly in front of him, puzzling and summing, his mind flitting through a thousand outcomes.
“What are you fucking waiting for?” Ray cried.
Mikey shifted forward in his seat, pulling away from his slouch. “I tell you what,” Mikey thinned his eyes, staring back at the raging Ray. “You tell me your story, and I'll tell you mine. Then, we'll see if they fit. If they do, I'll see what I can do. But know this, in your godforsaken heart, Toro'fro; Frank could be in no safer place than he is right now. Gerard Way is doing good for Iero, trust me.” He smiled, even though he knew the punch was coming.
As Adam delivered the blow, Mikey's eyes turned black as he saw stars. He could only hope that Gerard and Frank would be where all the stars shone soon. The sooner, the better.
After having daily visits to the common room for a fortnight, being forcibly placed back in Adam's interrogation room was almost like being arrested once over. Mikey sat slumped on the restricting chair, his wrists bound together with metal cuffs which rested casually on his lap, and his waist strapped to the back of the chair with leather binds. He sighed, tapping his foot impatiently on the tiled floor. So much for finishing my fucking rounds, Mikey cursed mentally. The fuck has Gerard done now?
Because that was it, wasn't it? It was all Gerard's doing, Mikey's whole lifestyle. If Gerard hadn't got him into crime, he wouldn't have been with him on that hit-and-run. If Mikey hadn't been on that hit-and-run, he wouldn't have been arrested whilst Gerard got away. And if he hadn't been arrested and Gerard hadn't got away, taken an old, unknowing acquaintance for hostage, then Mikey wouldn't be sitting here, waiting to have information he didn't know wrung out of him one punch at a time.
The barred door creaked open, foreshadowing. Mikey smirked as Adam slunk into the cube-shaped room. God, he really doesn't know what a prick he is, does he?
“Morning, Mr. Way,” Adam smirked, parking himself in a plastic chair across from Mikey.
“Spare the niceties, the fuck do you want?” Mikey spat, shifting in his seat. The more you slump, the longer your dick. The longer your dick, the better your impression. But even Mikey knew that statement wasn't true. His brother might be bent as a roundabout, but Mikey was all about treating women right. Mam' would demolish me if she knew I'd even thought that, he shuddered involuntarily.
“I have a friend for you,” Adam guffawed.
Twat.
“I think that combining both of your knowledge would be extremely beneficial to our search for your brother.” Adam encouraged.
Mikey chuckled. “And why should I want my brother to get arrested?”
Adam frowned. “Because the bastard has a damn hostage, that's why.” Adam leant forward in his chair, staring Mikey straight in the eye. “Smith, let Toro in.”
The guard by the door, who was presumably Smith, leant robotically over to unlatch the door and encourage an olive skinned man into the room, who admittedly stole Mikey's breath for a few seconds.
Fuck.
The man who his brother had shot to steal his companion as hostage limped into the room, assisted by an off-site nurse dressed in brown and black cashmere. Ray descended heavily into a plastic chair, slightly further away from Mikey than Adam was. He scowled at Mikey as he laid his crutches onto the floor.
“Well,” the 'fro grunted, “here we bloody well are.”
Mikey said nothing, but looked the man up and down and raised an eyebrow in response.
Adam, sensing the inevitable tension, began to speak. “Mikey, Ray is here to share information with you so that the PD can further the investigation of Frank Iero's whereabouts, and subsequently your brother.”
At the sound of Frank's name Ray twitched, glaring everlastingly at Mikey.
Jesus fuckin' Christ, Gerard, Mikey mulled helplessly, what the fuck have you got me into?
“Tell us what you know,” Ray croaked, his brown eyes dilating and his jaw quivering and clenching with anger. “What the fuck has your brother done with my best-friend?”
Mikey barely batted an eyelid. The best way to provoke somebody, he had learnt, was to act as if they were completely invisible and irrelevant to everybody in the room.
Mikey was right, and Ray was becoming obviously more infuriated. “Answer me, dammit!” He cried, clutching at the arms of the plastic chair. “For fuck's sake, you deceiving shithead, answer me!”
Mikey sighed, shifting backwards. Was there any hope in this? If he did speak, how would it end for Frank? Himself and Gerard had been planning this for years, and the trajectory was finally in action, but the state of the grief-stricken man before him was actually inducing some emotion inside of him. Mikey watched the two men directly in front of him, puzzling and summing, his mind flitting through a thousand outcomes.
“What are you fucking waiting for?” Ray cried.
Mikey shifted forward in his seat, pulling away from his slouch. “I tell you what,” Mikey thinned his eyes, staring back at the raging Ray. “You tell me your story, and I'll tell you mine. Then, we'll see if they fit. If they do, I'll see what I can do. But know this, in your godforsaken heart, Toro'fro; Frank could be in no safer place than he is right now. Gerard Way is doing good for Iero, trust me.” He smiled, even though he knew the punch was coming.
As Adam delivered the blow, Mikey's eyes turned black as he saw stars. He could only hope that Gerard and Frank would be where all the stars shone soon. The sooner, the better.
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