FicWad

Sid was in a noticeably better mood for the next couple days. He started singing in the showers, cycling between three songs.

“You and your high top sneakers and your sailor tattoos, with your old fifty-five that you drove through the roof...”
“And I go Cah-razy cause here isn’t where I wanna be, and satisfaction feel like a distant memory. And I can’t help myself, all I wanna hear her say is ‘Are you mine?’”
“He’s coming to play, and make your body parts shake, baby! He comes swervin’ down your hall, It’ll feel so good when he gives you his all...”

Sid’s good mood led to general improved living conditions. He helped everybody out with homework (“Like hell you’re gonna fail history!”), made sure everybody got to bed on time (“Listen to me, you little idiot. You have to get up early tomorrow for mass, and if you don’t, I get in trouble for it, not you! If I’m in trouble, you’re gonna be in trouble, hear?”), and was just generally nicer (“Just because I’m in a good mood doesn’t mean I’m polite,”).

~*~

The day before Thanksgiving break, the atmosphere seemed to be humming with excitement. “I wonder what’s up?” Frankie asked one lunch hour. He could’ve asked Gerard, but Gerard usually sat with Sid and his friends now, being secretive and beat-up looking.

Mikey shrugged. Gerard and him weren’t as close as they used to be, but maybe they could fix that with a few days off. It was Ray, however, who answered Frank’s question.
“Maybe everybody’s just excited to go home.”
Frankie nodded, accepting that. Ray seemed to be the only one unaffected by Gerard’s sudden mood change towards Sidney.


“Why do you hang out with him?” Frankie asked Gerard after lunch. “With who?” Gerard asked, looking bored already. “With Sid! Didn’t you, like, use to hate him?” Frankie explained.
Gerard yawned. The bruises and scratches on his face had healed, leaving only faint marks.
“Frankie, you wouldn’t understand. Sid...he’s not entirely there.”
“No kidding!”

“Shush. He needs somebody to look out for him,” Gerard responded, running a hand through his hair, looking uncannily like Sidney. “But he’s got a ton of other friends to do that for him! Why do you have to?” Frankie said, exasperated.

Gerard shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
~*~

That night, Gerard waited with glee for everybody to fall asleep. It was like Christmas, but better! God, he couldn’t wait for this!

Sid was lying on his bunk, burning through a batch of homework. Eyes flitting over math problems he would do about ten before switching over to english, then to history, then science, then back to math.
“How can you do that?” Gerard asked him “Huh?” Sid responded.
“Do everything at once.”
“Just don’t focus on more than one thing. It’s a defense mechanism,” Sid answered.
“...Oh.”

When everybody was safely asleep, Sidney’s eyes flicked over to where Gerard was sitting on the floor. “Hey, Gee?” he asked.
“What’s up?”
“Keep your left up when you punch. You drop it every time. Leaves your face wide open. Move your feet more, don’t be so flat-footed,” Sidney told him, standing up.
“Left up, move feet. Got it,” Gerard repeated, leaping to his feet. “Do you know what time it is?” Sidney asked softly, looking around to make sure everybody was asleep.
“Midnight?” Gerard whispered, excitement tinging his voice.

“No way. It’s only eleven. But still, c’mon. We can get there early, and I’ll show you how to punch,” Sid offered, Gerard nodded, smiling like an idiot.

Flicking out the lights and softly closing the door, Sid and Gerard headed out across the deserted quad. Sid nodded to the empty air. “Hey,” he said, addressing nobody in particular.
Gerard, on his other side, leaped from side to side, uppercuts, hooks, and straight punches peppering the air. “Would you cut that out?” Sid asked, smacking Gerard on the back of the head.
“But I’m a fighter! Like Rocky!”


“Kiddo, you’ve a long way to go before you’re Rocky. For starters, don’t curl your thumbs into your fists, for God’s sake. Four fingers, then thumb. Tight hands, but keep your wrists in between loose and tight,” Sid explained impatiently, taking Gerard’s hand and forming it into a proper fist. Gerard stared down at his hand, then managed to get in another air punch.

“Damn, son. You just sent that oxygen to the hospital with separated helium,” Sid remarked.
“Shut up!” Gerard snapped, giving the older boy a shove.

Sid just laughed, then started singing softly.

“I hate a moral coward, one who lacks a manly spark. I just detest a man afraid to go home in the dark. I always spend my evening where there’s women wine and song,
but like a man, I always bring my boys along, cuz, I'M A MEMBER OF THE MIDNIGHT TROUPE!-"

“Sid, shut up!” Gerard hissed.
“Why? The teachers don’t know what we’re doing yet. They don’t know. Let’s enjoy this while we can, huh?” Sid asked, still managing to look mostly arrogant in his baggy pants and wifebeater.

Actually, it was the same outfit he wore on Halloween.
“Let’s go. I’m freezing my ass off!” Sid hissed, and then bolted for the main building. “Wait up!” Gerard called, trying to keep his voice down.

The two boys were smiling when they found the window was still broken. Hauling the frame up, Gerard slid through, landing with a thump! on the gritty floor below. “Move over!” Sidney called, landing nearly on top of Gerard. “Watch it!” Gerard said.
“Yeah yeah yeah. Pipe down.”

Pushing the door open with his shoulder, Sidney sauntered into the empty basement room, followed by Gerard, who shut the door. “Okay, hands up. Weight on the balls of your feet. You’re not a rhino, Gerard, I know you can do it. Alright,” Sid paused, holding up two flat palms, “Punch my hands.”

For the next half an hour, Gerard worked on one-two punches and basic blocks. Or, as Sid called it, “How to not get your nose broken ten minutes in.” Gerard tried not to think about how Sid learned all this, or who taught it to him. The thirty minutes was filled with nothing but the crack of fists hitting open palms, an occasional “Good!” from Sid, and a more frequent, “No. Stop that. Like this.”

As Gerard worked, sweating, punching Sid’s hands over and over, the more he liked the feeling of actually being able to punch something. Huh.
Maybe Sid wasn’t so crazy after all.

When it was quarter to eleven, Gerard and Sidney raced around, pulling candles and boxes of matches out from behind pipes, lighting them haphazardly.

“We may be a fire hazard, but we look pretty damn cool,” Sid said at one point.
Eventually, people started showing up. At the first knock on the door, Sid surveyed the room critically, eyeing everything. “Look moody!” was the only thing he said to Gerard before he yanked the door open.

(A.N. And thus, the fanfic equivalent to the Iliad was posted online. Thanks for reading this far, it means a lot to me.)