Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > The Midnight Troupe

After Hours

by Mynameisnotimportant 1 review

An Update? WHAT???

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst - Published: 2012-08-19 - Updated: 2012-08-19 - 1557 words - Complete

0Unrated
Everybody leaped out of bed when Gerard and Sidney finally came back to the door.
“Where were you guys?!”
“You’ve been gone for like, three hours!”
“What happened to his face?”

The last comment was directed at Sidney, who was leaning heavily on a bookshelf. “Nothing that won’t get bettuh,” he answered.
“You look just like that guy from The Hunchback of Notre Dame...” Frankie whispered reverently. “That’s greah....yeah...I think I’m concushed,” Sidney responded, holding his jaw.
“You’re what?” Ray asked.
“I’m sheeing spots, I’m having trouble walking in a straight line without....falling. I’m sheeing spots.”
“You just said that,” Mikey pointed out.
“I did?” Sidney asked, sliding to the floor.

Sidney’s eyes eventually slid closed, and slowly, everybody started going back to bed.
“Where were you?” Mikey asked, looking up at his older brother.
“I was out,” Gerard responded, climbing up into bed.
“Tell me! Or I’ll tell mom!” Mikey threatened.
“Jesus, Mikey! It’s not that easy. Okay, here, how about this? Next time we go, I’ll take you with us,” Gerard explained, trying to keep an edge from entering his voice.
Mikey nodded, accepting that, then asked something Gerard hadn’t heard in a while.

“You’re not hurt, right?”

Sidney never cared if Gerard got hurt. He could praise bruises, glorify scrapes, but Gerard got the feeling Sidney would just get mad if he complained.
“I’m alright, Mikes,” Gerard replied, and Frank turned off the lights.

~*~

John waited in the corner of the dorm for everybody to fall asleep. His brother was hurt bad, and he slowly crept over.
“Hey, Sidney. Bro. Wake up. Don’t sleep, dude. Don’t sleep!” John hissed, shaking Sidney’s shoulders.
“My head’s heavy, John. Everything hurts.”
“I know, I know. Jesus, I’m so sorry, I should have helped,” John whispered, wiping blood off his brother’s forehead.
“Boy, dad shure was pished, huh?” Sidney asked, blood running over his lip.
Sidney definitely had a concussion. Hopefully the part of his mind that contained most of the horrific childhood memories would stay shut.
“Yeah. But you fought hard, Sidney. You just have to do more pushups,” John lied, bracing his arms around Sidney’s back.

“I did. I fought so fuckin’ hard, dude. Can I ashk you something?” Sidney asked, letting John boost his to his feet.
“Who’re you talking to?” a sleepy Frankie said from across the room.
“Shut up!” John snapped, and Frankie rolled over, muttering.

“Shoot,” John told Sidney, wrapping an arm around his neck, bracing his hip against Sidney’s hip, holding up his younger brother.
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
John froze. How the heck could he answer that? How could he put I never stopped dad from hurting you because then I wouldn’t exist in a way that would hurt him as little as possible?
John opened the door, bearing all of Sidney’s weight, and softly closing it behind them.

“I’m not as brave as you are. You’re strong, Sidney. You went through all of that. Besides, it’s better he hit you instead of mom, right?” John asked, feeling like a horrible person, but what the hell. Lie big.
“Yeaah. Where’re we goin’? Sidney asked, putting a hand on his bruised jaw.
“I’m taking you to the Nurse’s Office. Stay awake, okay?”
“Am I gonna die?” Sid asked, sounding like a little kid.
“You will if we don’t get moving,” John responded, trying to help Sidney down the stairs.
“Bull. Shit.” Sidney carefully enunciated.

The two boys limped in silence across the quad.
“Gerard is aweshome, huh?” Sid asked, breaking the silence.
“What?”
“He’sh a cool kid. He’s not afraid of schtuff. He’s one of my best friendsh. Pathetic, huh?” Sid asked, hissing as he bumped his foot.
“Not really. You need some sort of stability. Gerard’s pretty stable,” John replied, tightening his grip on Sidney’s arm.
“I really shtuffed up with Lesh.”
“Les is an asshole.”
“I slept with his girlfriend.”

John was silent for a beat. “Really?” he asked.
“I think sho. Woke up...in...next to her. I liked her a lot, but not that much, y’know. I musht’ve been drunk off my ash.”
“I bet you were.”
“Dun remember it either.”
“Can you remember your name?” John asked.
“I’m John, right?”
John nodded. “That’s close enough.”

When they finally got to the nurse, the sky had lightened from black to the dark purple of a bruise.
John knocked on the door, then stepped back, leaving Sidney leaning on the doorstep.
A light flicked on, shining under the door.
John snuck up behind his little brother’s ear.
“Remember to lie.”

The nurse pulled the door open, mouth creasing into an O at the sight of Sidney.
“Helluva night!” Sidney said happily, grinning. Blood was running over his chin from a crack in his lip.
“What happened to you?!” the nurse demanded, ushering Sidney inside.
Sneaking to Sidney’s side like a ghost, John whispered answers to him.

“Got beat up.”
“By who?”
Brief silence.
“Older boys.”
“Well, I’ll just sit you down here. You’re not going to class tomorrow, I can say that,” the nurse said, taking a pocket flashlight out of her bathrobe pocket. Sidney winced when the light hit his retinas.
“You’re concussed.”
“No shit.”
“Watch your mouth, Mr...?”
“Gumb. Sidney Gumb.”
“Well, Mr. Gumb, you’re staying here for the night. Lie down over there. I’ll wake you up every few hours.”
“Aweshome!`” Sid said, limping over to his designated cot. Thinking it over, he turned back.
“Wait.”
“Something else you want to tell me?” the nurse asked.
Sid swallowed. His throat felt dry. He hated asking for favors. He really should just suck it up and deal with it himself.
“..Can you...check up on my dorm? I’m a prefect. Make sure...they’re okay. They’re young and afraid of the dark.”
Sidney didn’t even hear her reply. He turned again, falling forwards, face buried in cheap synthetic pillow and managed to get in a few hours sleep.

He wasn’t woken up by the nurse, but rather, by a new patient.
“Tell me I concussed you. At least.”
“You did. Did I break your ankle?”
“I think so. I can’t put weight on it.”
Les rolled onto his back, lying in the cot next to Sidney.
“Where does this put us?” he asked quietly.
“What?”
“I said, where does this put us? I mean, we had a rivalry going, and stuff. I still hate you for what you did. I feel better about it now, though,” Les stated, pulling off his shoes.
“Why does this have to change anything?” Sidney asked.
“Because I don’t hate you as much.”

“So?”
“We stayed connected with each other through shared emotions. We liked having fun. We stayed together. We both liked Nina. We stayed together. We hated each other enough to kill. We stayed together,” Les explained, shoes falling to the floor.
“We like beating people up. Let’s stay that way,” Sidney responded.
“We’re so gay for each other.”
“Don’t you know it, hot stuff.”

There was a comfortable silence between the two of them before Les broke it.
“The Nurse called your parents because your concussion.”
The air went still.
“Shit. You serious?” Sid asked, voice flat like old alcohol.
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”
“You would. Shooting your damn mouth off in front of everyone. I’ll kill you next time around. Hear me?” Sid growled, trying to sit up.
“Calm down. You’re going home for break. Stress about that.”
Sidney ran his fingers through his hair, bruises whining on his arms.

“Your mum will probably be home.”
Sidney mulled that over. “When she hears I’ve been hurt, she’ll take time out.”
“There we go. Your dad won’t pull anything with her around.”
“Pssh. Please. Have you seen the state of my face? He won’t know where to go. You beat him to the punch,” Sidney commented, smiling.

Leslie bit back a laugh, giggles spiraling in his throat.
“...That’s horrible.”
“I’m a horrible person. It’s dark comedy. If you can’t laugh at misery, there’s not much to laugh at. Wanna hang out over break?” Sidney asked.
“Nah. I see enough of your ugly face over term,” Les responded, laughing now.
“Alright. I’m celebrating the Gumb Thanksgiving equivalent, though.”
“You have a Thanksgiving equivalent?”
“Yeah. It’s called Zerofucksgiving.”

Les laughed, with Sidney joining in, wincing at the pain that wracked his entire body. “Damn. Walked right into that one. We have to get to sleep, though. I’m really not in the mood to be screamed at,” Les wheezed, rubbing his eyes.
“Okay. ‘Night.”
“Night, Gumb.”

Sidney did not have any nightmares that night.

(A.N. D'aww. Jokes. Sort of cutesy chapter. I really wanted to focus on the relationship between Les and Sid. This is going to be a sprawling epic of a thing, so expect quite a lot. Thank you for reading thus far, I really appreciate everything.)
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