FicWad

(Well, fight scenes are a nightmare to write. Poor Gerard! :c The worst part was thinking up such generic and typical personalities for the jocks.
Anyone who recognises the name James Euringer and went SFGWKRFEGRNTUH THAT’S WHO JAMES IS, I salute you. :3
Also, everytime I check my views, I get all excited about having an actual audience. Thanks for all your support, guys!

ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGISE FOR THE GIANT BREAK I HAD BECAUSE OF DOWNLOAD RECOVERY D:)

Mikey was already prepared for when they got home.
“My poor baby!” Donna, Gerard and Mikey’s mother, almost screamed as they entered the front room. “What... What have you done to your face?!”
“Mom, it’s fi-”
“Did you get into a fight?”
“Kinda, yeah..”
Mikey rolled his eyes as their mother grabbed Gerard’s head, cradling him against her chest. She was always overreacting... After Gerard had limped over to Mikey and Ray, they’d cleaned him up in the bathroom and wiped away most of the blood. The main issue was his nose, which was still bleeding and had a cut on the bridge- and after hearing what happened, it was no surprise that Gee’s arm ached like hell too. But despite the beating, Gerard seemed more upset about Frank’s reaction.
“Oh, Gerard...” Donna sighed, holding his face up so she could see it properly, “You have such a nice face, and then you come home like this every couple of days... Please, just tell me who did it?”
Gerard sighed.
“Mom, leave it..”
“No, if you give me the names of these guys-”
“Mom-”
“Look, I can ring up the school and get this all sorted out! It’s bullying, and it’s the teachers’ job to stop this happening!”
This happened every time. Their mother didn’t seem to understand what high school was like nowadays, having your mom ringing up and pointing out who beat the crap out of her son did nothing to help- if anything, it would make the situation worse. Mikey could see it now, one of the teachers keeping Danny back after class, giving him some bullshit ‘warning’ which would only serve to anger him, and then Gerard would come home with even worse injuries.
“And Mikey!” Donna gasped suddenly, remembering the existence of her other son, “Were you involved in all this?”
She went to pull him into the hug, but he just shrugged.
“It was only Gerard, I was in another part of the school.”
“Oh... You boys!” Mikey was dragged into the hug anyway, with Donna still fussing over Gerard’s face. “Sometimes I wish I’d had girls, honestly... Though even then, you’d get yourself into catfights for being too pretty!”
“Mom!” Both the brothers groaned.
She sniffed and let them go, sighing.
“Honestly Mom, calm down...” Gerard urged her, sitting himself down in the nearby armchair with a slight wince. “I can take care of myself. It’s high school.”
She looked at him for a second, arm still around Mikey- who was feeling quite awkward at this point- and let out another sigh.
“I suppose. You always do manage to look after each other too, both of you. At least you’re done in a year, though.” She kissed Mikey on the cheek and let him go. “Your father’s still at work- luckily too, he wouldn’t be too happy to see you like this.”
Dad. Even though he was in his fourties now, and the Way family was living in a comfortably big -if not old-fashioned- house not far from the brothers’ school, Donald Way spent as much time at work as he always did. Maybe it was just something to do, although Mikey could see nothing interesting about office work, or maybe it was just a reason to come home just in time for Donna’s home-cooked dinners and then take his usual seat in front of the tv. Either way, Mikey -being who he was- preferred the fact he left them to themselves. He was always open to conversation- even the odd video game- but if the Way brothers wanted to go down to the basement and draw, or read, or strum their guitars all day, they were always welcome to.
But the exception was moments like these. Gerard coming home bloodied and tired. Their father had always said- he never wanted a couple of meatheads who picked on other people as his sons, but seeing Gerard like that disappointed him. ‘Why can’t you just give them a good punch to the face and be done with it, Gerard? I raised two boys, not punching bags!’
It seemed like even he didn’t understand. Mikey wouldn’t even dream of trying to hit the jocks back, and Gerard’s best attempt had landed him in the same position earlier today- there was just no fighting back.
He looked over at his brother again, who was rubbing his bruised arm, tissue held up to his nose as he leaned back in the armchair. And still, Gerard caught his gaze and smiled his crooked smile as always.
Mikey honestly couldn’t ask for a better brother.

~

Why?
Why did this have to happen?
The tears were streaming again, as much as Frank clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. But no, they kept coming.
Come on. Get it together.
His face was still bleeding- who cared where from?- and his fringe was sticking to his forehead as he trudged down the street. He felt the eyes of passers-by on him, but all he could see was this afternoon’s events over and over.
Let them stare. It doesn’t matter.
It wasn’t as if Frank hadn’t taken a few punches before, but why did stupid Gerard Way have to come and interfere? Why someone that he’d already made a fool of himself in front of already? First getting shoved into his locker, and as if any shred of Frank’s dignity was left, now he’d been beaten into a pathetic heap on the floor in front of Gerard.
‘I’ve been there before.. I thought maybe you wanted some help..’
Maybe Gerard was telling the truth about that, but he couldn’t possibly know what it was like for him. Gerard had friends, ones that probably weren’t as weak and pathetic as Frank was. He wasn’t the short new kid who had to mope around by himself because if he tried to talk to anyone else, he’d say something really fucking stupid and have people laughing in his face. Hell, Gerard had a brother and probably both parents.
Frank was nothing like Gerard, and giving him sympathy wasn’t going to fix anything at all.
He could see Gerard’s face again now, trickling scarlet from his nose, and yet somehow still smiling like they were best friends. And then he’d offered his hand to help Frank up...
Why, after it was blatantly Frank’s fault that he was in this situation? It made Frank angry.
Not at Gerard, but at Danny, at life, at himself above anything.
And then Gerard’s face again as it fell, after Frank had rejected his help... Confusion, hurt, sympathy, all rolled into one expression that Frank just didn’t want to see. He hadn’t even said sorry to the guy, he’d just spat words at Gerard and walked away...
Ugh. He couldn’t have just taken the shit from Danny as usual and moved on with his life, he had to take half the beating and then some extra reasons to hate himself.
Frank trudged on, fringe still glued to his face with now-crusty scarlet as he made his way to the front door of his house. This house... Why did he have to move to this neighbourhood? Newark hadn’t been amazing either, but his mom could have at least waited out his last year of high school- the bullies were probably as bad, but there was no one trying to save his ass. And proving how much of an asshat Frank was when they failed to do so.
“Frankie...?”
He didn’t respond to the voice as he shoved the door closed again, kicking his shoes off of his sore feet and starting to drag himself up the bare floorboards they called ‘stairs’.
And he still took no notice as his mother appeared in the hall, her usual quiet tone riddled with worry.
“Frank... You’re home late, today..?”
He paused, but only slightly.
“...Yeah.”
“Did something happen?”
Did something happen? She was either really oblivious for the past few year, or maybe she didn’t like direct assumption. Frank had always covered up his injuries with a murmur of ‘I fell’ or ‘P.E. was rough’. They were always such obvious lies, but Frank’s mother never questioned and instead left him to his own company. She was such a quiet person, even with her own son- the last time Frank remembered her smiling was when he was just a boy, and when his father was still around. Before he’d walked out on them. He could remember, only vaguely, the memories of her being so much more.. alive. The laugh lines as she pushed him on the swings at the local park, the crinkle in the corners of her eyes as she pulled him into their bed when he had a nightmare, safe and sound between his parents.. What remained now was the ghost of a smile when Frank told her it’d be alright, he’d get a job to help pay the bills and everything would be fine. But it wasn’t. He could barely be around her anymore, not when she was so withdrawn all the time. He couldn’t stand it, and that’s why he spent so much time in his room, sullen and never opening up to her either. Why should he?
He carried on up the stairs.
“Fell.”
“Oh..”
And that’s when Frank’s sock snagged on one of the nails jutting out of the floorboards, and he stumbled. His mother darted up the stairs to him, supporting him, and their eyes met.
In that moment, her eyes roamed his face, to the crusty matted fringe, the bloody spurt of his nose, the bruise already yellowing on his cheek-
“Get off me.”
Her hands fell immediately.
“My Frank..”
“STOP IT!” Frank yelled, suddenly, “STOP PRETENDING YOU CARE!”
She stared at him, and it was one of the few times Frank could really take her in. The rings of sleep-loss under her eyes, the mousy brown hair she just let hang loose as if she didn’t even care about her appearance anymore, her skinny body neglected from how many times she’d forgotten to eat.. Who was she, anymore?
“I’m your mother, I do care.”
“No. No you don’t.” The tears were back. “You haven’t given two shits since... Since, god knows when! And why the fuck should you?!”
That was enough. Frank ran up the stairs and into his box-room, slamming the door behind him, and slumping to the floor in the emotional wreck he was. Shutting out her, Gerard, and anyone else who thought they could really make a difference in his life. Because they couldn’t, no matter how hard they tried.

~

Even on the weekend- a good few days after the incident- Gerard was in a bad place, everyone could tell. And from what he’d told Ray and the rest of the group, he had good reason to be.
Ray knew it would probably be a bad idea to push Frank Iero into any kind of social interaction in the first place, but it had been an even worse reaction than he’d expected.
“It’s alright, buddy.” Matt patted Gerard’s shoulder as they sat, gathered in the Ways’ basement for one of their usual chill-out sessions- minus James, who was always doing his own thing outside of school. “The kid was gonna be a bit messed up. I guess it’s just not our place to help him.”
“I know...” Gerard sighed, staring at the Gibson Les Paul- a particularly nice model, Ray had noticed- in his hands as he leaned against the couch, in his usual spot on the carpet, “I just don’t understand it, though. I was helping. I tackled Danny while he was punching the shit out of Frank, for god’s sake... Why was he that angry?”
Matt shrugged, busy picking his opponent on Tekken 3. He tossed a controller to Mikey, who was beside him on the couch, obviously nothing more to say.
Ray could understand though, Gerard was never one to take things lightly. For a good hour while everyone else was playing video games from the couch, he’d been sitting on the floor with his guitar.
TWANG!
Everyone looked at Gerard for a second, who didn’t seem to be bothered by the completely off-tune notes he was now playing.
“God, Gerard.. What are you doing?”Matt winced, as Mikey landed a combo on him.
“Huh?”
“Matt..” Mikey muttered.
“No, I mean it.” More painful strumming. “Is that your Gibson, Gee?”
Gerard stopped playing. “Uh, yeah. Our grandma got it for me when I was eight.. Why?”
Ray started to fiddle with his fro, uncomfortably. From how nonchalant Gerard was being...
“Gerard, are you genuinely playing?” Matt asked, as Mikey nudged him out of the sight of his brother.
“Yeah..?”
Oh.
Matt seemed to realise the problem, and went back to their game, in which everyone except Gerard was suddenly more interested in.
“What, guys?”
“You gonna play next, Gee?” Ray put in, trying to keep the peace. “Matt’s had three games, so-“
“Yeah, I will. Right after you guys stop being weird.”
More silence.
“Guys!”
“You suck at guitar, Gerard.” Matt admitted.
“...Oh right.”
Mikey’s eyes were fixed firmly on the tv, and Ray put his head down. Mikey knew how invested Gerard was in guitar-playing, he’d explained to Ray back when they were getting to know each other. But Ray guessed no one had warned Matt. Gerard was simply terrible, but he adored his grandma and whatever she gave him- including his Gibson. Even when he’d been rejected from the band he joined a year or so ago, Gerard had stuck at it. With no improvement.
So right now, no one was prepared to meet his gaze.
“You know what, guys?” Gerard said, as everyone froze in preparation for the hissy fit, “I know.”
They all turned to him.
“What?” Mikey stared.
His brother flashed a half-grin.
“It doesn’t feel right. I have no musical talent, I’m not gonna pretend I do anymore...” Gerard blew his hair out of his eyes in a sigh. “I was pretty mad when that stupid band kicked me out, but god I suck.”
And with that, he stood up and tossed his guitar onto Ray’s lap instead.
“Uh, what?”
Everyone was still in awe, but the sass-master perched himself on the couch next to wide-eyed Ray.
“Play for me, baby.”