FicWad

Eight – Love and War

Patrick’s POV





“We’re home!”

I let Gee walk through the front door before making it click shut, watching in dismay as he waits desperately for someone to answer my cheery greeting. Not that I can blame him, not at all, after hearing how Mikes used to get treated at home. I know I’ve only known the kid since last night, but I can tell that he didn’t deserve to get hurt like that back when his father was still around to care. I always knew that Gerard’s dad was an alcoholic, I’d seen Gee breakdown over it many times as we were growing up, but I never thought that he was a violent man.

Just a horrible man trying to drown out a horrible world; not an evil monster beating a little kid.

It definitely explains a lot about Mikey Way though, the way he looked frightened when he met me last night for one. I did try my best to be gentle around him, but with a history like that I’m surprised he spoke to me at all. Screw that; I’m surprised the poor kid didn’t run screaming when I ruffled his hair. I know I would have after being taught that every touch is most likely to be a malevolent, hurtful one. No child, even if he is fifteen, should be forced to feel like that, though. Like the world’s out to get him and that his big brother is almost certainly going to abandon him whenever he’s not within his clinging line of vision. A blind man would be able to see just how much Gerard cares about the kid, a fact that makes it impossible for him to leave his brother alone for more than two hours at a time.

Gerard. Poor guy; he was hit as bad by all of this as Mikey was. I can’t even act like I can empathise with him about how horrible it must feel to know that a kid is getting hurt and not being able to do anything about it. And then having to live with the guilt raging inside of you for the rest of your life because the memories, the ones of Mikes begging him to make it stop, will always be with him. Even when he’s forgotten everything else, I know that he’ll remember his baby brother’s screams. In a sense you could say that Gerard’s an abused kid too, apart from the abuse was more mental than physical with Gee. But that doesn’t make it any easier for him to deal with.

I’ll help him deal with it, though. Helping people is what I do; it’s the one way I get to feel like I actually have a family because the only way of getting people to care is to show them you’re worth it. That’s just how people work; unless you’re beautiful or popular or even richer than I am, you have no hope of getting someone to care about you unless you care about them first. Besides, I’ve always liked taking care of people for the satisfying feeling that is gives you when you manage to win a smile.

Especially when that smile belongs to a sweet little kid. Even more especially when that smile belongs to Gerard Way.

Gee. The kid I’ve known for more years than I can count on both hands and who’s always been there for me, just like I’ve been there for him. He’s one of those people who have a heart of diamond-encrusted gold, but tries to hide it best he can because he doesn’t want it getting confused with weakness. Unless he’s around me, in which case he’s more himself than I am me. And Mikes, too, he’s himself around Mikey but in a different way to how he is around me. Around Mikes he’s like a watered-down version of the true him; everything’s there, apart from the rough toughness is dulled to a minimum and the cuddly caring side is whacked up to full blast. In fact, I’ve don’t think that I’ve ever seen anything sweeter than the way Gee is around Mikey. If only the reason behind it wasn’t so hideous, like a snake hiding behind a bunch of elegant roses.

Roses. Gerard likes roses, especially the white ones. He told me once that they remind him of a vampire’s skin, deathly white and the fanglike thorns ready to draw blood as soon as they get the chance. I get them for him every Valentine’s Day, just as he always draws me his own zombie-design card, because we both know that we’ll never get something from any real admirers. So we just give stuff to each other, as the tradition has been since he was nine and I was ten, when we were too young to understand that boys don’t normally send that sort of stuff to one another on Valentine’s Day. But it’s just two best friends, making each other feel less alone.

Or rather, I thought it was. That’s all it was ever meant to be, but now I’m not so sure. Not after the way I held his face in the coffee shop, my thumb doodling little curves under his profoundly desperate eyes. Of course I only did it to be comforting through one of the hardest things my best friend will ever have to go through, but I just can’t get the feel of his skin out of my mind; the way it was all cold, like a corpse, and waiting to have the life breathed back into it. Something that I really wouldn’t mind doing for him, for my best friend.

Just like I don’t think that Pete would mind breathing into Mikey. After the Way brothers went to sleep last night Pete wouldn’t shut up about the kid, about how cute Mikey is, about how much Mikey needs a “good snuggling”, about how he’s going to win Mikey’s heart and mend it.

As I am going to with Gerard’s.

Speaking of Gerard, he’s currently running off ahead of me, eyes frantic in search of the brother who should have answered my call by now. I scurry after him, just praying that everything’s alright even though I know it will be; Pete cares about Mikey, he won’t have let anything bad happen to the boy. I wouldn’t have left Mikes with him if I didn’t think that was the case. And if something has happened to the kid, let’s just say that a certain red Ferrari will be getting keyed.

“Mikey?” Gee’s shout comes out soft even if the panic is almost tangible, and I can’t help but let myself worry along with him because if Mikey’s gotten himself hurt or upset or scared then I know that it’s my fault for making his big brother leave his side. “Creeper!”

I sigh at his derogatory nickname for my other best friend, the one with epic hair and a heart the size of Jupiter, not for the first time in my life wondering how someone as genuinely nice as Gee can be two completely different people. It’s like he makes split-second decisions about a person before he can learn about them properly, that worked out great for me; not so great for Petey-boy. I guess I can understand why Gerard isn’t his biggest fan though, I mean it’s easy to mistake Pete’s hyperactive confidence for arrogance and his eager friendliness for attention seeking, but the guy honestly isn’t at all bad. Not unless you get on his bad side. In which case I suggest you run as far as the world is wide. It does make sense though, Gee not liking him, I don’t think I would if it were my baby brother he was drooling over.

I finally catch up to him at the foot of the staircase, the one with gold banisters that are far too fancy for simple taste, and rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder. A shoulder that’s nice and smooth under my touch, as though it’s just begging to be stroked by my skin. He turns his head to look at me and tries to attempt a brave smile to disguise the raw nerves in his eyes, but I see right through it and just rub calming patterns onto his shoulder blade with my fingers. I watch as he takes in a deep breath and sets off through the house again, each step becoming more and more urgent as the seconds drag by.

“Creeper, where the fuck are you?” He yells, almost angrily, something that makes me want to face palm; Mikey’s in the house somewhere and, going by what Gee told me over coffee, the last thing the poor kid needs is to hear his big brother losing it with the one other person that I think he might just trust in this world. “I swear, Cre-“

“Shut up!” A hushed voice snaps from somewhere behind us, unmistakably Pete and unmistakably from the first living room. “We’re in here.”

We’re in the plush room before Pete can even finish pronouncing the last syllable, our eyes met with the most adorable thing I have ever seen; tiny, fragile little Mikey curled up on Pete’s lap, head on the arm of the chair and back pressed snuggly into Pete’s chest. Pete’s just sat there, arms around the boy and fingers trailing through his slightly soggy hair, looking at least a hundred times more pleased with himself than he normally does. Mikey’s snoring softly, the sound only audible if you’re listening for it, and the older boy is just looking down at him, grinning like I’ve never seen him grin before; like he’s just experienced true bliss for the first time in his life as opposed to simple self-satisfaction. Pete’s got his body curled around the kid as though he’s a castle protecting it’s precious princess from a dragon, perhaps pulling the boy in a little closer than is necessary. But damn, is it cute.

They really do look like a couple; Mikey the sweet, shy little one and Pete the strong, protective tough one. A perfect match to give the other exactly what they need. Mikes can give Pete someone to snuggle and fuss over; Pete can give Mikes all the love in the world. I’ve watched Pete with boys before, all fake seduction in order to get the one thing that’s constantly on the seventeen-year-old’s very much teenage mind, but never have I seen him get like this over someone. It’s like he’s completely smitten, red-streaked hair-over-Converse for the tiny little mouse of a boy. He reminds me of one of those little velvet boxes that diamond rings come in; like Pete’s the tough old box, encasing something pure and fragile within. And, just like that box, I know that he won’t let his precious load get damaged.

I step forward towards them, the sound of my feet on the carpet making Pete look up at me. Look up at me and make my heart stop in pride for my younger friend. Because he really does look like he’s pleased for himself purely for having the meek little boy resting in his arms. Albeit pulled a little too tightly into him for it to be waved off as Pete being a nice, innocent lad. That’s just the way Pete is though; he loves having close contact with people, that tingling feeling of skin-on-skin. Unless, of course, Mikes naturally scooted that far into Pete’s chest of his own accord. In which case this whole thing just got a hell of a lot cuter.

Pete lifts one of his hands from Mikey’s feathery hair to press a finger to his lips, like a mother telling her unruly children to be quiet whilst her baby is asleep and a chuckle can’t help but creep out of my lips. They just seem so perfect together; two puzzle pieces slotted together on my couch.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

At the angry snap I swing around to see Gee stood to my left, feet apart in an angry stance and hands heftily on his hips. And one of the most enraged looks I’ve ever seen on anyone’s face ever. I get that he’s seen the kid through hell, that he has this burning desire to protect him, but he is overreacting. Sure, Pete does look a little possessive with his arms wrapped around Mikes like that, but he’s quite clearly doing nothing wrong. Just being there for Mikey to nestle into when he needs it.

“Shut up, Gerard.” Pete growls back, glaring directly at his crush’s vampiric big brother and tightening his hold on Mikey. “Sweetness is sleeping. He’s had a rough morning; he doesn’t need you waking him up.”

“And he doesn’t need you molesting him in his sleep!” Gee yells back, making Mikey whimper through the thin veil that separates sweet dreams from harsh reality and, in turn, making Pete hold on even tighter. “Fucking creep, who do you think you are?”

Gerard stalks past me, ignoring the warning look I give him that says if he ruins this for Mikes then I won’t be all that sympathetic towards him, face a mask of thunder and fury. He stops directly in front of the couch, towering ominously over Pete’s hardened face. Pete himself looks ready for a battle to defend his right to treat Mikes like his own personal princess. Good. I don’t want to see Mikes having the one person other than Gee he feels comfortable around, yanked away from him. I’ll step in before that can happen, even if that does mean going against Gerard.

I just want to help those who need it. And right now, Mikey Way needs it more than anyone else I know. But not if Gerard lets him have the relief of Pete.

“I think,” Pete purrs, using his cocky attitude to give himself an air of authority, “I think, Geetard, that I’m the guy who’s currently holding your brother. The very same guy who got him to eat a half-bowl of cereal this morning.” He stops, sighing as he gazes down at the poor little lamb in his lap. “And the guy who held him when he cried.”

The arrogance has dropped like a dead fly, replaced instead with pure sympathy. The words might have actually worked with anyone else, the words that paint a clear picture of the sincerity of the good intentions that Pete holds in his heart, but Gerard is a different story completely. In his mind, Mikey’s still some eight-year-old in need of having his hand held whenever he crosses the street, not a young adult with the power to make his own decisions. Such as deciding whether or not to eat; a decision that he probably would have refused had someone other than Pete asked him to nibble on the miniscule portion of cereal I served up for him.

I don’t think that Pete should’ve used that as a pro in his little argument with Gee though, it just wasn’t fair to use something so heartbreakingly sorrowful against the guy who couldn’t get the kid to eat himself. Part of me wants to think that Pete’s trying his best to win Gerard over; the whole of me knows that Pete’s trying to have fun with the older male, showing him that Mikey’s his now and nothing Gee can do or say will change it.

They’re both as bad as each other.

“He liked being held, Gee.”

“Don’t call me that! Only my friends get to call me that.” Gerard’s animalistic snarl makes me step back a bit in surprise at it’s pure viciousness, the kind that makes me wonder if I should step in before he wakes Mikey up and scares the living daylight out of the poor kid. “Let go of him, Creeper. Now.”

There’s a dangerous undertone to Gerard’s falsely calm voice, the kind of undertone that carries a hidden message of pure, unadulterated loathing, and it makes me flinch because I’ve never seen Gee get this angry before. Of course I’ve seen him wound-up, but never like he actually is capable of doing damage to the person he’s addressing. Never like he’s going to do something to make me regret letting him into my home.

I flick my eyes to Pete, begging him to just do as he’s told for once for the collective sake of all those concerned. I know that he catches my silent plea because he replies to it almost instantly. With a wink and a smirk. Telling me he’s fully aware of what he’s doing and of exactly how dangerous it is messing with Gee, but he’s going to do it anyway. Not because he’s mean, but because that’s who Pete is. He likes a challenge, a game, and Gerard’s the best fun he’s had in a long while. Not to mention that he wants to make the fact that Mikey’s his perfectly clear to the one person who might dare to take the kid away.

“No. He’s comfy and sleeping.” He answers indignantly, looking down at Mikey’s pale face with such a look of love that it makes me double my faith in him being the right guy for Mikes. “So either shut the fuck up or piss off. He needs to rest.”

I don’t think that I’ve ever known Pete to be this possessive, in the most lovingly caring way possible. It’s almost as if he’s a whole other person to the carefree guy I’ve been living with for the past few months; this man isn’t some silly little boy with an addiction to sugar, rather a soldier fighting to defend everything that’s ever meant anything to him. It’s like he’s made Mikes his responsibility to look after and love. Something that was obviously going to cause a wealth of problems with Gerard from the go.

This isn’t the Pete who fucks anything with a pulse and then leaves it at that. This is a Pete who’s completely smitten and doing what he thinks to be right by Mikey, not right by his own dick. And that’s how I know Pete’s serious enough about this for me to not be backing Gerard on his tirade against it.

“Don’t talk to me like that, you little pervert. You don’t even know him.” There’s so much venom in the bite of his razor-words that it’s a miracle Pete doesn’t just drop dead on the spot, not that he’d let a little thing like death get in the way of his coveted theory of true love. “Fucking paedophile.”

“Have you even listened to yourself, Geetard?” Pete laughs nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious to the fist being formed at Gee’s side in frustration. “Better yet, have you even listened to Mikey? If you did you’d know that he likes being snuggled and held like he matters to someone. You’d know that he likes feeling someone else’s breath on his face, having his hand held, being fee-“

“Shut the fuck up, Creeper!”

Before I can do anything to stop him, Gerard’s fist is flying through the air like a deadly torpedo of unbridled anger. And connecting squarely with Pete’s nose, making it crunch and making Pete cry out like I never thought he could.

But that’s not what makes me feel like I’m losing it, no, that title belongs to the fact that Mikey’s blinking up at the two older boys and shaking like a leaf in a hurricane of hatred. Eyes lost and watery, waiting for the next hit to be rained down on him instead of Pete.

I’ve had enough of this; having a go at each other is one thing, but dragging an abused child into it is quite another. I honestly don’t care anymore that Gee’s just trying to be a good big brother and that Pete’s just trying to look after the boy his soul seems to have drawn him to. Nothing, absolutely nothing, justifies making a poor little kid quake in fear at the sight of the violence that is usually directed towards him.

I’m the oldest; it’s time for me to act like it.

“Gerard Arthur Way and Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third!” I bark at them, being sure to give Mikes a smile to let him know that he’s done absolutely nothing wrong. I notice Gerard crack a smirk at hearing Pete’s full dictionary of names, one that quickly gets stamped out when he notices the cause of my sudden intervention. “What do you think you’re playing at?”

Gerard looks guiltily at the floor, tears welling in his eyes as he tries to walk to get closer to his brother, only to be blocked by Pete swatting him furiously away.

“Can’t you see you’ve scared him? No way am I le-“

“Pete!” I shoot at him, using the voice that he knows well enough not to ignore lest he wish to find a lock fitted on the candy cupboard again. He just looks at me, trying his best to appear as the innocent party in this even though I know he’s far from it, and I glare back in my attempt to not melt at the way he’s gripping Mikey’s trembling hand. “Pete, go put some ice on that nose and go to your room. Don’t come out until I say so.”

“But, ‘Trick, I-“

“Now, Wentz.” I snap, using my paternal instincts to make the most of my urge to protect the tiny kid who’s shrinking away from everyone in the room.

Pete gently crawls out from under Mikey, giving his hand one last squeeze, and stands with the same level of reluctance as a wild horse getting broken in. When he stands I have to lurch forward to stop a full-on brawl from breaking out in front of me. In front of Mikey, the poor kid still trembling. Pete just shakes his head at Gerard in disgust before storming up the stairs, the sound of running water soon following. Good.

Now to deal with the Way brothers.

Gerard doesn’t move, just looks at his brother with broken eyes. Eyes that are beautiful and deep and more sorry than I’ve ever seen anyone else in my entire life. I can see that he feels beyond bad for frightening his baby brother, but that doesn’t change the fact that he did. By punching one of my dearest friends for no reason other than getting frustrated. And there’s no amount of remorseful tears that will get him out of this one.

But before I deal with him, I’ve got to make sure Mikey is alright. Or as alright as he can be.

So I just stroll slowly to the couch, arms out in a calming gesture in front of me, and sit next to him, wincing at how he flinches away from me in a deadly reflex of what life has taught him to fear. He sits bolt upright, body stiff from fear.

“It’s okay, Mikey. I’m not gonna hurt you.” I make sure that the words are clear, firm, and undoubtable even to the mind of a petrified kid. “Gerard didn’t really mean to hit Pete, did you, Gee?”

“No! Course I didn’t, Kiddo. And I’d never do something like that to you, anyway. Not if my life depended on it.” Gerard immediately chips in, slotting himself to sit in between myself and Mikey.

Mikey looks up at him wearily, like a mouse begging a lion not to devour him, and Gerard just sighs, holding his arms out to let Mikey know that he can crawl into his lap. Which he does almost instantaneously, melting into his big brother’s arms as the older rocks him slowly back and forth, soothing Mikes through the tears that are suddenly coming hard and fast.

“Pr-romise?”

Aw, Kid.

“I promise, Kiddo. I’d never hurt my baby brother. Promise.”








A/N: Thank you very much for reading and I hope that this was alright! I’m not too sure about this chapter, so sorry if it sucked. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :)