FRERARD! Mikey Way is sick and tired of listening to Frank and Gerard's noisy dreams. So Mikey Way hatches a plan...[RE-WRITTEN...Please read and review?]
The Hardest Part Is Sleeping Through Your Dreams
Mikey Way groaned and rolled over in his bunk, grabbing his pillow and covering his ears with it.
Mikey threw his pillow aside and sat up furiously in his bunk, pulling out his iPod and squinting at the blindingly bright screen, which kindly informed him that it was 5.36 AM. In response, Mikey flipped it off and, groaning in frustration, flopped back down onto the lumpy mattress, head hitting the pillow heavily.
For a few moments he just lay there, listening to the horribly familiar groans of his two band mates and grinding his teeth with suppressed anger. Quite frankly, Mikey was nearing the end of his tether; after two solid months touring in a small, cluttered bus with a hyperactive midget who stole people’s god damn caffeine for fun, a man-eating ‘fro with a Ray stuck to it, and his own brother, Mikey was just about losing the will to live. And having to put up with Frank and Gerard’s dreams every single fucking night- really, it was just the last straw. Actually, it was the main straw- whatever the fuck that meant. Either way, Mikey was utterly sick and tired of it.
Actually, sick and tired was a serious understatement- he could count on one hand the number of hours he’d slept so far this week- and was consequently ready to choke to death, both his brother and best friend, with extremely strong sleeping pills.
Of course, Mikey himself just had to be allergic to sleeping pills, or Frank and Gerard’s (ridiculously noisy) dreams would not have been a problem. However, the last time Mikey Way had taken sleeping pills, he slept for a full 72 hours, while having vivid dreams about working in a road sign factory with Gerard’s pet chameleon, Eric. No-one could wake him- Mikey, that was, not Eric the chameleon- resulting in him missing one of their shows, not to mention the bright red rash he developed on his face, which he was constantly teased about by unsympathetic band-members.
If only Frank and Gerard would stop acting like twelve year old girls with their first crushes, he might actually be able to get a couple if hours sleep and not die of exhaustion during one of their gigs. It was alright for Ray; he was such a heavy sleeper that Mikey was pretty sure he wouldn’t even wake up if the bus was suddenly rampaged by screaming fans, all wanting to worship his ‘fro. And Ray hadn’t exactly been sympathetic when Mikey finally told him why he kept falling asleep during sound check last week- in fact, he’d had to spend the remainder of the afternoon trying out different hiccup cures.
Despite his annoyance, Mikey hadn’t actually told either Frank or Gerard about this whole thing just yet. In a strange way- barring the fact it deprived him from hours of precious sleep- it sort of amused Mikey, and anyway, he liked having some kind of blackmail for when Gerard drank the last of the coffee- or when Frank hid his straighteners again. Especially Frank- that little midget was the loudest.
“GERARD! Oh-hhh…!” he screamed, right on cue.
This was just the last straw for an already irritable, sleep deprived Mikey. He sat up furiously, grappling for his headphones, and somehow managed to whack his head on the top of the bunk.
“Fuck!” he snarled in pain, rubbing his head angrily where something resembling a crème egg had sprouted in protest, throbbing painfully.
“Ughh, shut UP, you retarded midget!” Mikey groaned furiously, flinging his headphones in the direction of Frank’s bunk in the hope that they might knock the pint-sized guitarist out- or somehow find their way round his neck and strangle him.
“Owwwf!” Came the garbled, sleepy response as Mikey’s headphones hit home. Mikey held his breath as Frank whimpered for a few seconds, whined something like “Kiss it better,” and then there was the soft rustling of him turning over followed by blessed silence.
Mikey let out a long sigh of relief, snuggling back under his duvet with a contented little smile on his face.
“Frank-ie, oooomphh,” Gerard’s girlish little moan came seconds later, shattering all Mikey’s peace.
Mikey groaned in defeat and pulled his duvet right over his head in some vain attempt to block out his elder brother’s disturbingly sexual moaning.
“Mikes…Earth to Mikey Way!”
What felt like seconds later, Mikey was being dragged from a deep slumber by a sleepy looking Ray Toro. His ‘fro was extra crazy and reached alarmingly far into Mikey’s bunk as if it was going to throttle him with those spongy brown tentacles.
Mikey winced as the ‘fro moved slightly and harsh grey light stung his bloodshot eyes. “What…?” he mumbled grumpily, rubbing his eyes sleepily and glaring at Ray.
“Time to get up, man- we make a stop soon.” Ray informed him, patting him gently on the shoulder.
“…Uhh..” Mikey yawned, sitting up sleepily and wincing as the light punched him for the second time.
Ten minutes later, he and Ray were sitting at the kitchen table of the bus, sipping mugs of strong, black coffee.
“Well Mikes,” Ray said matter-of-factly, spreading peanut butter on his toast and surveying Mikey with concern. “You don’t look good.”
“…Huh?” Mikey mumbled blearily- he’d been nodding off over his coffee.
“You don’t look good.” Ray repeated, taking a bite of toast. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“I haven’t.” Mikey sighed, taking a gulp of much-needed coffee.
“What? Why?” Ray said, looking concerned.
“Listen- remember I told you about how Frank and Gerard have been-” he broke off hurriedly as Frank himself ambled sleepily into the kitchen, his two-toned hair flopping all in his eyes. He was rubbing a large, purple bruise on his forehead.
Mikey immediately felt a twinge of guilt, knowing it had been his headphones that had caused the injury. Still, the ridiculously loud little midget had been asking for it- Mikey took his sleep seriously.
“Hey, Iero, where did you put the rubber duck and -wow, what happened?!” Ray gasped, looking up from his toast and peanut butter and gawping at the large, impressively purple bruise on Frank’s forehead. “Been playing it rough with Geraldine?”
“Shut up,” Frank squeaked, scowling at Ray. “I’ve told you before, I do not like Gerard Arthur Way. As anything more than a friend. Or a bandmate, or…whatever, Toro. Go suck on your ‘fro.” Frank glowered sulkily, crossing his tattooed arms across his chest and staring huffily at his fellow guitarist.
Ray smirked. “Sure, Iero. Suuuuure. Whatever you want to tell that fucked-up little brain of yours. So, what did happen?”
“I really have no idea.” Frank frowned, looking puzzled and still mildly sulky. “I just woke up with it.”
“That’s odd,” Ray frowned, putting down his toast.
“Thank you so much for stating the motherfucking obvious, ‘froface,” Frank said sarcastically. “Anyway, I’m gunna go have a shower if that’s okay?” he glared at Mikey and Ray to make sure neither dared protest.
Ray shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, Iero.”
Frank rolled his eyes as Ray went back to munching his toast-and-peanut-butter, but sloped off in the direction of the tour bus’ bathroom.
“Ray,” Mikey said seriously, the minute Frank was out of earshot. “I need your help.”
“What’s up, man?” Ray asked, looking mildly concerned.
“Look, I’ve only slept four hours so far this week and-”
“What?!” Ray cut in, looking appalled. “Why?”
“Because…well, you know Frank and Gerard?”
“Yes, I think they sound vaguely familiar.”
“Well you know the way they’re both insanely in love with each other, but too damn chicken to actually admit it?”
“Dude, the whole world know that.”
“Their dreams about each other are still keeping me awake all fucking night!!” Mikey burst out, slamming his coffee mug down on the table for impact- which didn’t really work because the remainder of the coffee slopped over the side and burnt his fingers.
Ray started laughing, shaking his head and getting peanut butter in his ‘fro.
“Don’t fuck with me, Ray,” Mikey growled ominously. “I’m running on two hours sleep.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Ray said, attempting to stifle his chuckles. “But seriously, how loud can it be? I mean, it doesn’t wake me up.”
“A great white shark landing on the tour bus wouldn’t wake you up!” Mikey snapped irritably.
“Mikey,” Ray sighed pityingly, patting the younger Way’s arm. “Sharks don’t drop out of the sky. That’s rain.”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” Mikey snapped. “It was a metaphor.”
“…No it wasn’t,” Ray frowned, puzzled.
“It was,” Mikey insisted stubbornly.
“Dude, I’ve been writing songs for the band for at least four years- I think I know what a metaphor is,” Ray pointed out logically. “Anyway, tell me more about these dreams…?”
Mikey decided to disregard Ray’s argument on metaphors, only because he was pretty sure the spongy-haired guitarist was actually right. “Well, they’re life scarring. I mean, who wants to hear their older brother having sex dreams? Or some little midget with attitude problems having sex dreams about my brother?”
“Fair point,” Ray concluded.
“Frank’s the worst- how can someone so fucking small be so fucking loud?! He’s all, ‘Oooh, Gerard, oh my god, ummmph, you’re so hot, I love you, ooo-ohhhh GEE-”
Mikey’s head shot up abruptly, and he managed to scald himself as his coffee slopped over the side of the mug and onto his arm for the second time that morning.
Gerard was standing in the doorway, looking a little like a sleepy hamster in his skeleton pyjamas and dishevelled hair. He was also looking more than slightly freaked out, no doubt due to the fact his younger sibling was randomly moaning his name at the breakfast table, in a way that was undeniably- and disturbingly- sexual.
“Oh…Um…Hi, Gee!” Mikey said brightly as Ray burst out laughing. “And how are you on this splendid morning?”
“Whatever, guys.” Gerard rolled his eyes; it was clearly far too early for him to be curious. “Is anyone in the shower?”
“You want to shower?” Ray blinked, and then pretended to faint on the table, resulting in more peanut butter attaching itself to his ‘fro.
“Shut up,” Gerard scowled, ducking behind his greasy hair.
“Is this to impress a certain…Frankieboy?” Ray smirked evilly, removing his head from the table and winking in a slightly scary manner at Gerard, who blushed.
“No!” He protested, voice going all squeaky. “I’m not impressing anyone. Especially not Frank. I just uh, like feeling…clean?”
“Dude,” Ray shook his head. “Please.”
Gerard scowled again. “I hate you, Toro. Anyway, is there anyone in the shower or is it free?”
“As free as a bird,” Mikey smiled innocently, knowing full well just how much the bathroom lacked a lock and how much it didn’t lack a scantily clad, tattooed rhythm guitarist.
“That was a crap simile. But, uh, thanks,” Gerard mumbled from beneath his lank hair, stumbling sleepily out of the kitchenette and towards the shower room, blind to what awaited him.
“Revenge is sweet.” Mikey grinned evilly, draining the last of his coffee and rubbing his hands together in that geekish-yet-evil-genius way.
“Nice one.” Ray chuckled. “But you totally just ripped off our album title.”
“I thought of it, Toro!” Mikey rolled his eyes. “And you have peanut butter in your hair.”
“Oh.” Ray pawed at his ‘fro, where the peanut butter was still clinging stickily and determinedly to the puffy locks.
“But seriously, Ray,” Mikey lowered his voice to continue the previous conversation, while his bandmate tried in vain to remove the peanut butter from his spongy hair. “I need some of that genius you store inside that ‘fro of yours- or I’m actually going to die of exhaustion. And kill my own brother.”
“Hmmm,” Ray paused thoughtfully. “That would actually be pretty good publicity.”
“Raymond!” Mikey exclaimed, flailing his arms in frustration. “I’m really serious here!”
“Well,” Ray considered, finishing his toast and frowning. “Have you tried sleeping pills?”
“You know I’m allergic to them, fuckbottom.”
“Don’t call me fuckbottom,” Ray sighed.
“Don’t be one, then,” Mikey said snippily.
“Do you want to hear my plan or not, Way?” Ray sighed again.
“Yes. But I can’t take sleeping pills.”
“No, no, no…I meant sleeping pills for Frank and Gerard,” Ray explained.
“…Tell me more…” Mikey said interestedly, leaning forward.
“Well, if you take sleeping pills, you sleep kinda differently from normal- it’s a really deep sleep, which usually means you don’t dream. I never dream when I’ve taken them,” Ray said thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s just me- but you could give it a shot.”
There was silence for a second, as Mikey’s (admittedly already slow) sleep-deprived brain took in Ray’s suggestion. Then-
“You’re a fucking GENIOUS, Ray!” Mikey squealed, hugging him. “There is something under all that hair after all!”
“Hey!” Ray began, in mock offence. “I am the brains and-”
“ARGH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” A shriek recognisable of Frank’s echoed from the bathroom, putting an end to Ray’s protests.
“I THOUGHT THERE WAS NO ONE IN HERE, OKAY?”
“WELL THERE IS!”
“OBVIOUSLY, I’M NOT STUPID!”
“REALLY?! I MEAN, WHAT KIND OF GUY UNDRESSES BEFORE THEY CHECK IF THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE USING THE SHOWER?!”
“I’M SLEEPY, OKAY?!”
“YEAH, AND YOU STILL AREN’T WEARING ANYTHING!”
“GET OUT, THEN!”
This was followed by a loud bang, a yelp, and giggles.
“Did you just walk into the door, Gee?”
“Yeah, you need to open it, man.” Frank’s voice said through giggles. “It works better like that.”
By the time poor little sleep-befuddled Gerard made it back into the kitchen, blushing furiously like an angry beetroot at a red nose day convention, Ray was hiccupping and laughing like a lunatic on insane pills and Mikey was just sipping his coffee and smiling gleefully.
“Got them?” Ray whispered as Mikey sneaked back onto the tour bus later that day, clutching a small paper bag. It was just starting to get dark, and the bus was ready, after a day parked in Seattle, to set back off down the highway.
“Got them.” Mikey replied gleefully, walking into the kitchen and putting the bag down on the table. “It wasn’t easy, though. I had to, uh, persuade the doctor. Luckily she was a fan, but still…” Mikey shuddered a little. “Anyway, how am I actually gunna get the fucktards to take them?”
“Umm…put them in coffee?” Ray suggested with a shrug.
“Seriously, you’re a fucking legend, Ray! Where would I be without you?” Mikey beamed, flicking the kettle on.
“Umm…electrocuted by the toaster?” Ray grinned teasingly.
“Shut up.” Mikey scowled as he started crushing two tablets and sprinkling the dust into a couple of mugs.
“So, uh, tell me about this doctor?” Ray smirked, leaning against the bench as Mikey got the coffee grounds spooned into four mugs.
“GEETARD! FRANKASS! COFFEE!!” Mikey hollered, expertly avoiding Ray’s question. Luckily, before Ray could comment on that and smirk even more than he was doing so already, Gerard zoomed into the kitchen at an unnatural speed, closely followed by Frank. They always got a bit funny about coffee, though. Gerard’s eyes looked a little like a gothic bush-baby’s as they roved the room for promised caffeine.
“Here you go, guys,” Mikey said cheerfully, handing them each a steaming mug of coffee with what he hoped was an innocent expression. Inside, the maniac that was his soul was cackling evilly.
“Thanks, Mikes.” Gerard smiled gratefully, accepting his coffee and sitting down at the table with Ray and Frank. Mikey handed them a mug each too, and sat down with them.
There was a peaceful silence for several moments as all four coffee-addicts slurped their caffeine. Mikey was almost too excited by his little plan to swallow effectively, though- Ray had to slap him on the back several times after he choked.
“Any cookies?” Frank asked suddenly, breaking the silence and wandering over to the cupboards, still clutching his coffee.
“Dunno.” Mikey replied as Frank peered hopefully into the top cupboards. Mikey never failed to find it amusing that the guitarist actually had to stand on his tip-toes. This, of course, resulted in him choking coffee all over Ray once more.
“Hey, I had this really weird dream about Gerard last night…” Ray began with an evil, teasing grin as he mopped Mikey saliva and coffee from his shirt. “…Do any of you guys ever dream about Gee? ….Frank?”
Frank promptly dropped his mug of coffee with a crash, turning alarmingly pale, while Gerard flushed an interesting shade of scarlet/ magenta.
“NO!” Mikey yelled in anguish, looking in utter despair at the broken shards of coffee mug and spilt coffee all over the kitchenette floor.
Everyone turned to look at him- Frank still deathly pale and Gerard still resembling a raspberry- and Ray shot him a warning look with special Toro-eyebrow-signals, as if to say ‘don’t give it away!’. Well, if he’d actually said it, Mikey was pretty sure he’d have added something endearing, like ‘fucktard’ or ‘asswipe’.
“I mean…umm…are you, uh, still gunna drink that?” Mikey asked hopefully, breaking the confused silence.
Frank blinked. “Huh?”
“The coffee,” Mikey clarified.
Frank just stared uncomprehendingly at the younger Way brother for a moment. “Dude,” he said slowly, once he’d realised Mikey was actually serious. “It’s on the floor. Where you puked last week. And it’s all mixed with broken china. Are you actually serious, Mikes?”
Mikey nodded tragically.
Frank frowned. “Are you…feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” Mikey replied snappishly. Inside, he was distraught; one dose of the sleeping pills had been wasted- and he’d only managed to get the two doses, even after bribing the doctor. And of course, it just had to be Frank that had spilt it- he was the loudest.
“Lets go and watch The Lost Boys,” Ray suggested in some attempt to cover up any suspicions.
Frank shrugged and agreed, so they all trooped through into the lounge where Ray got the DVD set up and flopped down on the sofa. Frank and Gerard sat next to each other, and Mikey knew that they’d be trying to subtly edge closer to each other through the whole movie. With a sigh, Mikey resigned himself and slumped down beside Ray.
It was only near the end of the movie- just after David had been staked and there was fake blood everywhere- that Mikey noticed- noticed something absolutely heart-stopping and life-destroying. He had been playing absent-mindedly with one of the safety pins from his jacket, when he suddenly noticed Ray’s empty coffee mug on the table beside him.
Except that was Gerard’s mug- the ‘Little Miss Psychotic’ mug Mikey had put Gerard’s pills in. But now the mug was sitting beside Ray.
Horror beginning to seep through him, Mikey glanced slowly, painstakingly, across to where Gerard sat, practically on Frank’s lap, enthralled in the movie. And he was clutching the wrong mug- what Mikey had intended to be Ray’s mug, because it had no pills in it and Gerard needed the pills or Mikey would never sleep again and oh my god now there were no sleeping pills left and-
“NO!” Mikey wailed, accidentally stabbing himself in the hand with the safety-pin.
Four pairs of eyes turned to look his way.
“Umm…I just,,,uh, accidentally cut my hand…” Mikey covered up, clutching his bleeding palm, which was really nothing compared to the pill/coffee disaster. “Uhh, Ray…Can you come help me put something on it?!” Mikey’s voice was getting dangerously high-pitched.
“Ughh, I’m so sleepy, Mikes…” Ray yawned, confirming Mikey’s worst fears. Beside him, Gerard was looking more than a little confused, but he was also blushing furiously- probably because Frank had his shoulder laid on the vocalist’s shoulder.
“Now, Raymond!” Mikey snarled through gritted teeth.
Ray groaned, but dragged himself up and through to into kitchen after Mikey.
“W-w-what is it, geekass?” Ray moaned, failing to stifle a huge yawn as he slumped down on the table. “God, I’m really, really tired…”
“I gave you and Gerard the wrong mugs!” Mikey wailed in frustration, pulling at his carefully straightened hair in despair.
“…Come again?” Ray mumbled, eyelids drooping.
“I gave you the mug with the sleeping pills by accident- not Gerard!”
“…Jesus, Mikes…you really are stupid…” Ray said sleepily, rubbing his eyes blearily.
“Thanks SO much,” Mikey spat sarcastically.
“Well, you really are, dude. You managed to mess up two people drinking two mugs of coffee. How hard can it be? Plus, you use L’Oreal on your hair,” Ray raised his head wearily from the table to shake it despairingly.
“It keeps split ends healthy and shiny!” Mikey sniffed huffily.
“…So does…egg…” Ray slurred, his eyelids drooping.
“It’s…beneficial…for hair…” Ray mumbled sleepily. “Duck egg…hen egg…goose egg…ostrich…f-frog…platypus…cat…-u-u-ukulele…”
“Shut up and help me, Toro! What the actual hell am I going do?! And for the record, I don’t think cats lay eggs- and a ukulele is a miniature guitar,” Mikey pointed out desperately, panic beginning to rise. “Ray…? Ray?! Oh dear god, please don’t go to sleep! Don’t leave me, Ray!” In panic, Mikey started shaking Ray’s lifeless body slumped across the table.
“RAYMOND TORO!” Mikey wailed, peeling Ray’s eyelids open.
Ray just snored, eyelids sliding shut again.
“Aggh!” Mikey yelled, slapping his head with his palm and storming off towards the kitchen cabinet to find a large, sharp implement to remove his head. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about sleep and pills and loud dreams and moronic bandmates then.
Once again, it was the middle of the night.
Once again, Mikey Way was wide awake.
And once again, it was due to two of his band mates.
“Mmm…Frank…Oh god, yes…”
Enough was enough. Mikey was sick, Mikey was tired, and Mikey could not take it anymore. Rage flooding through him, he flung back his bedcovers furiously, stormed over to Gerard’s bunk and shook him roughly awake in the dark.
“Uhhh…?” Gerard mumbled, sleepily confused.
“Get up!” Mikey snarled, grabbing Gerard’s arm and yanking him unceremoniously out of bed. He started dragging him towards Frank’s bunk, deaf to his older brother’s sleepy protests as he shook Frank sharply awake.
“Mikey?” Frank mumbled sleepily as Mikey pulled his nose angrily.
“No, it’s the fucking tooth fairy,” Mikey snapped sarcastically.
“…Jeez…isn’t it a bit early for sarcasm?” Frank groaned. “Go way, fuckface. ‘M sleeping.”
“Yeah, well OTHER PEOPLE WANT TO TOO!” Mikey yelled, hauling Frank from his bunk so that he was standing with one raging, sleep-deprived Way brother, and one perplexed, dishevelled one.
“…Huh?” Frank blinked. Unwisely.
“HUH?” Mikey repeated furiously. “What do you mean, ‘huh’?!”
Frank looked a little hurt. “Well, I was sort of wondering why the fuck I’ve been woken up to be yelled at. And I was also wondering why Gerard is here too.”
“Because you two are driving me fucking CRAZY!” Mikey yelled.
“…Is this some weird kind of threesome deal?” Frank asked slowly after a moment. “Cause uh, I don’t do that kinda thing. Sorry.”
“It has nothing to do with any fucking threesomes, you fucktard! I want you two asswipes to admit how much you’re pathetically crushing over each other so I can actually get some motherfucking sleep- without being woken up by your stupid fucking sex dreams!” Mikey shouted furiously. “Do you have any idea how scarring it is to hear that kinda shit every night?!”
There was an extremely ominous silence.
“I will actually use the smoothie blender on both your cocks if you don’t shut up, okay?” Mikey threatened quietly.
“Wha-” Gerard began, trembling. Mikey knew, even though it was dark, his brother would be redder than a tomato on its period.
“Nich,” Frank added wisely.
“Just grow up. Please. I need my sleep, you fucktards. Now kiss and stop lusting after each other in your subconscious because it’s DESTROYING MY LIFE,” Mikey snarled un-dramatically, before stomping back to his bunk, leaving Frank and Gerard standing, wide-eyed and utterly mortified together by Frank’s bunk.
Mikey sighed in the deadly silence, which to him was welcome and peaceful, but to two others, perhaps was extraordinarily awkward. He finally fell asleep to the soft murmurs of Frank and Gerard’s hushed voices and stutterings.
Mikey Way was awoken by the familiar groans once more, only this time- he realised in horror- they were coming from the same bunk.
“Eeewww!” Mikey whimpered, pulling the duvet over his head in disgust as he realised just what was going on and almost retched onto his pillow.
He’d have preferred the dreams...
Well...there you go ;P Hope it was improved- I'd love to hear what you thought of this new version/the story in general if this is the first time you've read it...did you guys have a favourite bit?...Anhyhoo, make my week and drop a review? :D Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!