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Together Again
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Together Again
Brendon's POV
“What the fuck did you do to him, Urie?” I wince as Pete all but spits the question, only keeping his voice low because Mikey’s still asleep in the bed before us. That and the fact that Patrick’s got a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. “What the fucking hell did you do?”
Pete’s one of my best friends after Ryan, it stings to hear him yelling at me like this. I’m not saying that I don’t think I deserve it, I know I do, but it doesn’t half hurt; not least because it reminds me of all that I’ve done. Of all that some sick little lowlife tried to do to my poor baby boy. I am glad of having Pete here though, of course I am. If not for my sake and reassurance, then certainly for Mikey’s.
Mikey. I haven’t left his side since I got here a little over two hours ago; I’m too terrified to. The poor kid’s just been attacked, so of course I’m not leaving his side. That and the fact when he wakes up he might very well break up with me and then I’ll never get to see his pretty little face again.
Pete and the others (Patrick, Frank and some guy I vaguely recognise from Pete’s numerous parties by the name of Gabe) got here a few minutes ago, Frank apparently opting to calm his boyfriend down in the living room with his special “munchkin snuggles” as Gerard dubbed them back when they first started dating.
Gabe?
According to Tricky he’s sat on the pavement outside the Way family home. With a sobbing Ryan Ross, holding the younger in his arms. If I’m to believe what the blonde boy has told me, which I have no reason whatsoever not to, Gabe went all starry-eyed the second he laid eyes on the beautifully tragic boy and decided instantaneously that it had to be him providing the comfort. Something that, as Tricky recalls, made Ryan blush and stutter like a goddamn schoolgirl.
Good; Ryan needs someone to look after him.
Pete, and therefore Patrick, came straight down to the basement. Of course they did; Pete cares about the poor kid almost as much as I do. There’s always been Pete, even before there was me there was Pete as a strong presence in Mikey’s life. Keeping him safe, making him happy, filling him with hope. Gerard told me once, each of us with our younger boyfriends sleeping in our laps after some stupid horror flick Gee had insisted on renting, that before Pete came along Mikey was even more of a mess than when I met him. In a sense I have Pete to thank for my boyfriend being here at all, if Gee’s words are anything to go by.
And now Pete, fierce protector and vicious avenger, is angry with me.
More like fucking furious. And I can’t even pretend I’m innocent in any imaginable way.
So I just shuffle even closer to Mikey’s resting body, grip his hand tighter as though asking him what I should do to make it all better.
“And whilst I’m asking questions; what has Ryan Ross got to do with any of this?”
I watch Tricky’s eyes flit from his boyfriend’s rage-reddened face to where my hand joins with Mikey’s and see compassion burning in his irises; I may not know the human teddy bear, as Pete so treats him, all that well but I could be blind and I’d still be able to see his absolute benevolence. Especially towards the baby of the group.
“Calm down, Panda.” A small part of me melts into sugary gloop at his cute little pet name for Pete, their couple-like nature striking me as metal-meltingly adorable. Or rather it would do, if my life wasn’t in imminent danger from Pete Wentz’s immense strength and lust to protect. “I’m sure that there’s a reasonable explanation.”
But there isn’t. Nothing that can make me feel like a decent human being anyway. And even if there was, it wouldn’t change the fact that I had to flat-out flaw Sarah in order to get here to find my sweet little baby in such a horrific state.
Pete fixes me with an intensely intent stare, eyes boring into me and letting me understand that I can’t lie to him. That I can’t trick him or deceive him in any way like I can with most other people. I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway; Pete, as Mikey’s kind of father-like figure, deserves honesty.
“Ryan’s here because he found Mikes. Rescued him, actually.”
Pete raises his eyebrows at me, making it clear that Frank started fawning over Gerard before the older could explain the situation to the others. Or maybe the older Way brother was trying to save my sorry ass.
“After Mikey left he… there was a guy in an alley and he was gonna…” I take in a deep, shuddering breath, knowing that I’ll have to accept what happened sooner or later. “Some sick pervert was gonna… do stuff to him.” Stunned, appalled silence. “Ryan got him away, but Mikes was already unconscious.”
Pete reaches out a hand to Mikey’s forehead and ruffles his hair, a look of broken despair invading his previously fuming features.
“Poor little guy.” Pete mumbles, a tear slipping down his face in rare display of what he would normally regard as ‘weakness’. He bites down hard on his lip, turning to fix me with a glare so venomous that it makes my stomach turn in fear amidst my unstoppable guilt and sorrow. “But what the fuck made him run, Urie? You better start fucking talking.”
Tricky shoots him a glare, even if his eyes are soft behind it, trying to stop this from exploding into a full-on shouting match. I’ve only ever had a few of those with Pete and trust me; things have a tendency to get out of control pretty damn quickly.
“I-I… Ryan… We…”
Pete’s eyes narrow at me dangerously, looking very much like he’s aiming some sort of mental machinegun. And so does Tricky, something that adds to my nauseous sense of dread because I don’t know what he’s capable of doing when he’s angry.
“I made out with Ry. Mikey walked in and I-I had my hands down Rya-“
I’m cut off by a swift punch, this time much harder than Gerard’s earlier swing of brotherly necessity and with a hell of a lot more venom behind it.
But it isn’t from Pete; it’s from Patrick.
All of us gawp at the boy’s curled fist, including Tricky himself, none of us quite believing that such a gentle creature could do something so violent, so hard and so, for lack of a better word, Pete-like. I think even Pete’s surprised that it wasn’t his hand, which is balled up into a fist as well, that impacted my previously bruised cheek.
“I-I’m so sorry, Brendon.” He stutters, relaxing into the sideways hug that Pete’s pulling him into. “I don’t know what I…” His fist slowly unfurls, revealing the giant paw that just left it’s harsh mark on my pale skin. “I just… I know how it feels to see your boyfriend with someone else. Especially when that boyfriend has saved your life in so many ways.”
Pete squeezes his blatant lover tighter, lips grazing Tricky’s quivering own in a gesture of loving comfort. It’s then that I realise just how much I don’t know about Patrick Stump; but I still want to murder whoever it is that’s he talking about who broke his golden heart. Just like everyone wants to do to me right now. And I guess now I fully understand why.
“Don’t be sorry.” Pete whispers, tone full of more love than I’ve ever heard his voice possess before, not even when chatting up some honey in an overcrowded nightclub. “I was about to do the same.” His eyes redirect to me, the two of us sharing a gaze of basic understanding. “I’m gonna take Tricky upstairs and make sure he’s alright. Don’t think this over though, Urie. I’ll deal with you later.”
I’m numb to everything, even the radiating pulsation of Patrick’s punch, as the elder leads a sniffling Patrick out of the dingy room. Because nothing really matters to me right now, nothing that I matter to anyway. Pete and Patrick hate me; Ry’s getting chatted-up by Gabe Saporta; Gerard’s no doubt too busy making-out with Frank to remember that he’s supposed to be pissed with me; and then there’s Mikey. Mikey who’s still unconscious and hurt and broken and alone. All the things I should never let my sweet, adorable, kind, wonderful boyfriend to ever be.
And it’s all my fucking fault.
I can remember the first time I found out he was getting verbally bullied; it was just two weeks after I met him. We were walking through school together, me wittering on about something I’d seen on Spongebob Squarepants the day before and him trying his best to keep his head down, occasionally nodding his agreement with whatever nonsense I was spewing. When I finally realised that he wasn’t putting as much enthusiasm into his nods and wheezes as normal, I cupped his chin, making him face me, to see that he was crying. Only a little, but it still felt like a huge deal to me. So I took him out to Sarah, it was still his favourite place of security even way back then, and snuggled him whilst the tears increased to a complete avalanche of misery, saying more to me than words ever could. Once he’d calmed down I got him to write out what had happened, every nasty word said from ‘freak’ to ‘faggot’ and all the way round to ‘motherfucking loser-emo’. I’ve refused to leave his side or let him out of my sight ever since.
But I did and now this has happened. And this sickening silence, not the comfortable silence that his simple muteness brings by itself, is crushing me.
“Sweetie, I love you.” I whisper, voice crackling with desperate guilt and rampantly morose concern. “I love you so fucking much. More than anything. More than the stars in the sky, more than cherry-turnovers, more than Sarah, more than my guitar. And a helluva lot more than I love Ryan.” I pause to trace my fingers up and down the vein that runs along the centre of his left forearm, knowing that it’s his special tickle-spot, wincing every time my fingertips brush over a bruise or scrape. “He’s my best friend, MiWay. It kills me that he ever hurt you, but I think he’s sorry. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can then you probably heard him too; he really feels awful.” I lean down and plant a silky kiss on the back of his hand, recalling how it’d normally make him wheeze with delight at having his very own ‘gentleman-friend’. “Not as awful as me though, Sweetie, and I know that. I know what I did was unforgivable and I don’t expect you to forgive me. Truth is, you shouldn’t. You deserve better. But, and this is the part where I’m gonna get selfish, I need you, Mikey Way.” I have to gnaw down hard on my lip to stop the sob that’s convulsing in my tummy from making an escape through my mouth. “You’re my sweet little boyfriend; my Sweetie. And I can’t lose that. Not over some stupid mistake that I got seduced into by an upset friend. But if you can’t forgive me, Sweetie, I understand.”
Tears are cascading freely down my face now, the whole reality of the situation and what I’ve done setting in with an iron grasp; I really could lose the love of my life over this. The best thing to ever happen to me or ever will happen and I’ve destroyed it. Destroyed him. Ruined it all.
As much as I want to insist my innocence, bucket the blame onto Ryan or even onto Mikey himself, I just can’t. Because it is all my fault; I’m the one who followed a crying Ryan into the restroom, I’m the one who didn’t leave the second the situation started involving romance, I’m the one who didn’t push away from the fateful kiss that ended my faithfulness. All me.
All someone who isn’t worthy of Michael James Way’s heart.
“You want me to leave, Mikes, you want to never see me again and I’m gone. I’d do anything to please you, even if that anything kills me.”
Wheeze.
“You want to leave me, then I won’t try to make you stay. I just want you to be happy, Sweetie.”
Wheeze.
“Know that whatever you want to happen, even if you just want a little time and space away from me, I’ll make sure it does happen. You want to hate me? Then please do, but I doubt you can hate me half as much as I hate myself right now for hurting you.”
Wheeze.
“I’d do anything for you. And I’ll respect your decision one-hundred per cent. Because I love you.”
Wheeze.
Hang on a second.
Wheeze.
Motherfucking wheeze!
As the realisation of what I’ve been hearing hits me, I lift my eyes from the floor where they had been hiding in shame, and see Mikey Way’s huge irises shining up at me. There are tiny water crystals bleeding from his pools of vision, and that kills me, but there’s something of a smile on his face. It’s the fact that his face is bruised that’s killing me.
Wait.
He heard me. He was listening to me the whole time I thought he was unconscious.
“Mikey!” I all but cry, leaning forward and scooping him up into my arms. “Uh, do you mind me holding you?”
It feels horribly strange asking such a question, but I have to now. Now that someone’s abused him in such a way and now that he most likely doesn’t want me anywhere near his fragile self. Even though I fear the answer more than anything else as it will most likely be rejection, it’s the very least I owe him to give him the option of my soothing embrace.
In response he tightens his arms around my neck and buries his face as far as he possibly can into my chest; so far that I think it must lodge itself into my heart because my ticker stops ticking.
He doesn’t hate me.
Something that I took for granted just this afternoon but now see as a blessed gift. That’s what having Mikey Way is; a blessed gift.
“God, Mikey, I’m so fucking sorry that this happened.” I whisper, my lips brushing against his ear lobe as both of our grips tighten on one another.
After a few minutes of tears burning through my Green Day t-shirt, the one he likes snuggling into the most because it apparently smells of me more than any of my others, he abruptly pulls away and grabs the whiteboard that Gee must have placed on the bedside table earlier. I wait patiently, eager to see what he has to say.
I was so scared. Don’t ever let me go. Please.
“Oh, Sweetie, it’s alright. You’re safe now.” I bundle him back into my arms, holding him so tightly that I’m half scared I’ll break him. “I’ve got you and I love you and I’m not ever letting go.”
And I mean it; I’m never letting my baby go again.
A/N: So that’s that; finished. Frank has Gerard, Pete has Patrick, Ryan has Gabe; and Brendon, of course, has Mikey once more. I apologize if this seems rushed/flimsy, but I sincerely hope that you liked it. Thank you very, very much for reading this series and an even huger thanks to the people who reviewed/rated; you guys mean the world to me! I might occasionally upload one-shots set in this universe, but for now, this is the end of “Speechless”. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :D
Song of The Chapter: The Only Hope For Me Is You by My Chemical Romance http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xAzqKEYaCs or Kaleidoscope Eyes by Panic! At The Disco http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtGSFuGxc_A
Brendon's POV
“What the fuck did you do to him, Urie?” I wince as Pete all but spits the question, only keeping his voice low because Mikey’s still asleep in the bed before us. That and the fact that Patrick’s got a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. “What the fucking hell did you do?”
Pete’s one of my best friends after Ryan, it stings to hear him yelling at me like this. I’m not saying that I don’t think I deserve it, I know I do, but it doesn’t half hurt; not least because it reminds me of all that I’ve done. Of all that some sick little lowlife tried to do to my poor baby boy. I am glad of having Pete here though, of course I am. If not for my sake and reassurance, then certainly for Mikey’s.
Mikey. I haven’t left his side since I got here a little over two hours ago; I’m too terrified to. The poor kid’s just been attacked, so of course I’m not leaving his side. That and the fact when he wakes up he might very well break up with me and then I’ll never get to see his pretty little face again.
Pete and the others (Patrick, Frank and some guy I vaguely recognise from Pete’s numerous parties by the name of Gabe) got here a few minutes ago, Frank apparently opting to calm his boyfriend down in the living room with his special “munchkin snuggles” as Gerard dubbed them back when they first started dating.
Gabe?
According to Tricky he’s sat on the pavement outside the Way family home. With a sobbing Ryan Ross, holding the younger in his arms. If I’m to believe what the blonde boy has told me, which I have no reason whatsoever not to, Gabe went all starry-eyed the second he laid eyes on the beautifully tragic boy and decided instantaneously that it had to be him providing the comfort. Something that, as Tricky recalls, made Ryan blush and stutter like a goddamn schoolgirl.
Good; Ryan needs someone to look after him.
Pete, and therefore Patrick, came straight down to the basement. Of course they did; Pete cares about the poor kid almost as much as I do. There’s always been Pete, even before there was me there was Pete as a strong presence in Mikey’s life. Keeping him safe, making him happy, filling him with hope. Gerard told me once, each of us with our younger boyfriends sleeping in our laps after some stupid horror flick Gee had insisted on renting, that before Pete came along Mikey was even more of a mess than when I met him. In a sense I have Pete to thank for my boyfriend being here at all, if Gee’s words are anything to go by.
And now Pete, fierce protector and vicious avenger, is angry with me.
More like fucking furious. And I can’t even pretend I’m innocent in any imaginable way.
So I just shuffle even closer to Mikey’s resting body, grip his hand tighter as though asking him what I should do to make it all better.
“And whilst I’m asking questions; what has Ryan Ross got to do with any of this?”
I watch Tricky’s eyes flit from his boyfriend’s rage-reddened face to where my hand joins with Mikey’s and see compassion burning in his irises; I may not know the human teddy bear, as Pete so treats him, all that well but I could be blind and I’d still be able to see his absolute benevolence. Especially towards the baby of the group.
“Calm down, Panda.” A small part of me melts into sugary gloop at his cute little pet name for Pete, their couple-like nature striking me as metal-meltingly adorable. Or rather it would do, if my life wasn’t in imminent danger from Pete Wentz’s immense strength and lust to protect. “I’m sure that there’s a reasonable explanation.”
But there isn’t. Nothing that can make me feel like a decent human being anyway. And even if there was, it wouldn’t change the fact that I had to flat-out flaw Sarah in order to get here to find my sweet little baby in such a horrific state.
Pete fixes me with an intensely intent stare, eyes boring into me and letting me understand that I can’t lie to him. That I can’t trick him or deceive him in any way like I can with most other people. I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway; Pete, as Mikey’s kind of father-like figure, deserves honesty.
“Ryan’s here because he found Mikes. Rescued him, actually.”
Pete raises his eyebrows at me, making it clear that Frank started fawning over Gerard before the older could explain the situation to the others. Or maybe the older Way brother was trying to save my sorry ass.
“After Mikey left he… there was a guy in an alley and he was gonna…” I take in a deep, shuddering breath, knowing that I’ll have to accept what happened sooner or later. “Some sick pervert was gonna… do stuff to him.” Stunned, appalled silence. “Ryan got him away, but Mikes was already unconscious.”
Pete reaches out a hand to Mikey’s forehead and ruffles his hair, a look of broken despair invading his previously fuming features.
“Poor little guy.” Pete mumbles, a tear slipping down his face in rare display of what he would normally regard as ‘weakness’. He bites down hard on his lip, turning to fix me with a glare so venomous that it makes my stomach turn in fear amidst my unstoppable guilt and sorrow. “But what the fuck made him run, Urie? You better start fucking talking.”
Tricky shoots him a glare, even if his eyes are soft behind it, trying to stop this from exploding into a full-on shouting match. I’ve only ever had a few of those with Pete and trust me; things have a tendency to get out of control pretty damn quickly.
“I-I… Ryan… We…”
Pete’s eyes narrow at me dangerously, looking very much like he’s aiming some sort of mental machinegun. And so does Tricky, something that adds to my nauseous sense of dread because I don’t know what he’s capable of doing when he’s angry.
“I made out with Ry. Mikey walked in and I-I had my hands down Rya-“
I’m cut off by a swift punch, this time much harder than Gerard’s earlier swing of brotherly necessity and with a hell of a lot more venom behind it.
But it isn’t from Pete; it’s from Patrick.
All of us gawp at the boy’s curled fist, including Tricky himself, none of us quite believing that such a gentle creature could do something so violent, so hard and so, for lack of a better word, Pete-like. I think even Pete’s surprised that it wasn’t his hand, which is balled up into a fist as well, that impacted my previously bruised cheek.
“I-I’m so sorry, Brendon.” He stutters, relaxing into the sideways hug that Pete’s pulling him into. “I don’t know what I…” His fist slowly unfurls, revealing the giant paw that just left it’s harsh mark on my pale skin. “I just… I know how it feels to see your boyfriend with someone else. Especially when that boyfriend has saved your life in so many ways.”
Pete squeezes his blatant lover tighter, lips grazing Tricky’s quivering own in a gesture of loving comfort. It’s then that I realise just how much I don’t know about Patrick Stump; but I still want to murder whoever it is that’s he talking about who broke his golden heart. Just like everyone wants to do to me right now. And I guess now I fully understand why.
“Don’t be sorry.” Pete whispers, tone full of more love than I’ve ever heard his voice possess before, not even when chatting up some honey in an overcrowded nightclub. “I was about to do the same.” His eyes redirect to me, the two of us sharing a gaze of basic understanding. “I’m gonna take Tricky upstairs and make sure he’s alright. Don’t think this over though, Urie. I’ll deal with you later.”
I’m numb to everything, even the radiating pulsation of Patrick’s punch, as the elder leads a sniffling Patrick out of the dingy room. Because nothing really matters to me right now, nothing that I matter to anyway. Pete and Patrick hate me; Ry’s getting chatted-up by Gabe Saporta; Gerard’s no doubt too busy making-out with Frank to remember that he’s supposed to be pissed with me; and then there’s Mikey. Mikey who’s still unconscious and hurt and broken and alone. All the things I should never let my sweet, adorable, kind, wonderful boyfriend to ever be.
And it’s all my fucking fault.
I can remember the first time I found out he was getting verbally bullied; it was just two weeks after I met him. We were walking through school together, me wittering on about something I’d seen on Spongebob Squarepants the day before and him trying his best to keep his head down, occasionally nodding his agreement with whatever nonsense I was spewing. When I finally realised that he wasn’t putting as much enthusiasm into his nods and wheezes as normal, I cupped his chin, making him face me, to see that he was crying. Only a little, but it still felt like a huge deal to me. So I took him out to Sarah, it was still his favourite place of security even way back then, and snuggled him whilst the tears increased to a complete avalanche of misery, saying more to me than words ever could. Once he’d calmed down I got him to write out what had happened, every nasty word said from ‘freak’ to ‘faggot’ and all the way round to ‘motherfucking loser-emo’. I’ve refused to leave his side or let him out of my sight ever since.
But I did and now this has happened. And this sickening silence, not the comfortable silence that his simple muteness brings by itself, is crushing me.
“Sweetie, I love you.” I whisper, voice crackling with desperate guilt and rampantly morose concern. “I love you so fucking much. More than anything. More than the stars in the sky, more than cherry-turnovers, more than Sarah, more than my guitar. And a helluva lot more than I love Ryan.” I pause to trace my fingers up and down the vein that runs along the centre of his left forearm, knowing that it’s his special tickle-spot, wincing every time my fingertips brush over a bruise or scrape. “He’s my best friend, MiWay. It kills me that he ever hurt you, but I think he’s sorry. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can then you probably heard him too; he really feels awful.” I lean down and plant a silky kiss on the back of his hand, recalling how it’d normally make him wheeze with delight at having his very own ‘gentleman-friend’. “Not as awful as me though, Sweetie, and I know that. I know what I did was unforgivable and I don’t expect you to forgive me. Truth is, you shouldn’t. You deserve better. But, and this is the part where I’m gonna get selfish, I need you, Mikey Way.” I have to gnaw down hard on my lip to stop the sob that’s convulsing in my tummy from making an escape through my mouth. “You’re my sweet little boyfriend; my Sweetie. And I can’t lose that. Not over some stupid mistake that I got seduced into by an upset friend. But if you can’t forgive me, Sweetie, I understand.”
Tears are cascading freely down my face now, the whole reality of the situation and what I’ve done setting in with an iron grasp; I really could lose the love of my life over this. The best thing to ever happen to me or ever will happen and I’ve destroyed it. Destroyed him. Ruined it all.
As much as I want to insist my innocence, bucket the blame onto Ryan or even onto Mikey himself, I just can’t. Because it is all my fault; I’m the one who followed a crying Ryan into the restroom, I’m the one who didn’t leave the second the situation started involving romance, I’m the one who didn’t push away from the fateful kiss that ended my faithfulness. All me.
All someone who isn’t worthy of Michael James Way’s heart.
“You want me to leave, Mikes, you want to never see me again and I’m gone. I’d do anything to please you, even if that anything kills me.”
Wheeze.
“You want to leave me, then I won’t try to make you stay. I just want you to be happy, Sweetie.”
Wheeze.
“Know that whatever you want to happen, even if you just want a little time and space away from me, I’ll make sure it does happen. You want to hate me? Then please do, but I doubt you can hate me half as much as I hate myself right now for hurting you.”
Wheeze.
“I’d do anything for you. And I’ll respect your decision one-hundred per cent. Because I love you.”
Wheeze.
Hang on a second.
Wheeze.
Motherfucking wheeze!
As the realisation of what I’ve been hearing hits me, I lift my eyes from the floor where they had been hiding in shame, and see Mikey Way’s huge irises shining up at me. There are tiny water crystals bleeding from his pools of vision, and that kills me, but there’s something of a smile on his face. It’s the fact that his face is bruised that’s killing me.
Wait.
He heard me. He was listening to me the whole time I thought he was unconscious.
“Mikey!” I all but cry, leaning forward and scooping him up into my arms. “Uh, do you mind me holding you?”
It feels horribly strange asking such a question, but I have to now. Now that someone’s abused him in such a way and now that he most likely doesn’t want me anywhere near his fragile self. Even though I fear the answer more than anything else as it will most likely be rejection, it’s the very least I owe him to give him the option of my soothing embrace.
In response he tightens his arms around my neck and buries his face as far as he possibly can into my chest; so far that I think it must lodge itself into my heart because my ticker stops ticking.
He doesn’t hate me.
Something that I took for granted just this afternoon but now see as a blessed gift. That’s what having Mikey Way is; a blessed gift.
“God, Mikey, I’m so fucking sorry that this happened.” I whisper, my lips brushing against his ear lobe as both of our grips tighten on one another.
After a few minutes of tears burning through my Green Day t-shirt, the one he likes snuggling into the most because it apparently smells of me more than any of my others, he abruptly pulls away and grabs the whiteboard that Gee must have placed on the bedside table earlier. I wait patiently, eager to see what he has to say.
I was so scared. Don’t ever let me go. Please.
“Oh, Sweetie, it’s alright. You’re safe now.” I bundle him back into my arms, holding him so tightly that I’m half scared I’ll break him. “I’ve got you and I love you and I’m not ever letting go.”
And I mean it; I’m never letting my baby go again.
A/N: So that’s that; finished. Frank has Gerard, Pete has Patrick, Ryan has Gabe; and Brendon, of course, has Mikey once more. I apologize if this seems rushed/flimsy, but I sincerely hope that you liked it. Thank you very, very much for reading this series and an even huger thanks to the people who reviewed/rated; you guys mean the world to me! I might occasionally upload one-shots set in this universe, but for now, this is the end of “Speechless”. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! :D
Song of The Chapter: The Only Hope For Me Is You by My Chemical Romance http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xAzqKEYaCs or Kaleidoscope Eyes by Panic! At The Disco http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtGSFuGxc_A
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