Disclaimer: I don't know MCR. These events have probably never happened and if they have, it's coincidence. Please don't sue me...I'm just a poor college student with an overactive imagination.

CHAPTER ONE

Gerard Way restlessly looked at the digital alarm clock opposite his bed. The glowing numbers cast an eerie shade of red across his features while he tossed and turned, trying to sleep. He glanced wearily back at the alarm clock that now read six twenty four. In an hour, he would get up and have to face the world again. Sighing, he sat up and flung the covers off his body. It was no use. He knew he wasn't going to get anymore sleep. He slowly walked from his bedroom into the living room, pausing only to flick on a lamp as he passed it. He sank into his recliner and grabbed the remote. He turned on the television but couldn't keep his thoughts on the program. Instead, his thoughts drifted to the band. He thought about the success of their second album. What he imagined he should be feeling was something like joy or accomplishment but instead, all he felt he felt weariness and paranoia. He hated getting up on stage and singing the words he and his band members had penned. He used to like performing for their fans...it was a rush that was indescribable. Only now, it was suffocating. He felt nervous of all the people watching him. It was like they were all in this conspiracy to get the best of him. They were judging him as they were watching him. It was a feeling that he hadn't been able to shake recently.

Gerard tuned the television off and leaned forward in the chair, staring at nothing in particular, letting his thoughts run through his head. This was the last night of the short three day break the band had before resuming their headlining tour. Just thinking about it made Gerard's innards twist into knots and he could feel the contents of his stomach churn. He had to change the way he felt. He knew that much for sure. He couldn't go on like this. This wasn't how being in a band was supposed to feel. It hadn't felt like this before and he was racking his brain for the answer to that question.

Gerard slowly got up and walked into his bathroom. He thought maybe a hot shower would unwind him and calm his nerves. He turned on the faucet, setting the knob to the hottest temperature possible. He stood there for a moment listening to the streams of water hitting the pale green shower tiles and watched with interest as the steam danced around him. He sat on the closed toilet, taking in the noises around him. He took in a shaky breath and exhaled slowly, letting his head fall into his hands. The bathroom was almost filled with steam and he could only see a few hazy images in front of him. Again, he thought about what the day held. Mikey was going to pick him up seven forty five and they were going to meet the rest of the guys at the airport. They had ten o'clock flight to Los Angles, where they would be doing a short set for a radio station concert. Then, at the same venue, there would be interviews and fan meet and greets. He couldn't remember if there was anything else planned for that day because he hadn't been paying attention when the band was briefed. Oh well, Mikey could just tell him in the car. He could feel a headache coming on and the heat from the shower was making him feel a bit woozy. Standing up, he rationalized that he had taken a shower the previous night and probably didn't need another one. As a result, he turned off the water.

He stood in front of his sink and wiped off a small space on the mirror. Placing both hands on the sink and leaning forward he looked in the mirror. He didn't recognize the reflection that stared back at him. There were listless brown eyes with bags underneath them and a thin mouth that turned down at the corners. The face had pale skin with the slightest hint of a flush across it. He realized the reflection that stared back at him was one that belonged to a broken person. He could feel the familiar sting of hot tears that were forming behind his eyelids.

"I can't do this again." He whispered to himself as the first of the tears escaped his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He felt like the room was closing in on him and he felt like he couldn't breathe. The thoughts, the feelings of only a few months ago, were coming back to him full force. He thought he was over this. That the suicidal thoughts and depressed tendencies had buried themselves. He hadn't taken a drink in forever...not since that night. So why was he feeling like this again? In frustration, he flung open the mirror to reveal the medicine cabinet behind it. There was an array of toothpaste, deodorant and shaving necessities. Gerard's eyes drifted past those and eventually landed on the multiple pill containers that occupied the top shelf. There were anti depressants, tranquilizers and some pain killers. The anti depressants were current but the pain killers and tranquilizers...well, they were left over. No one knew he had them and he hadn't been able to bring himself to throw them away. So there they remained, staring him in the face and inviting him to take them. He grabbed the five or so bottles and quickly carried them into his living room. He sat back down in the recliner and set the bottles on the glass coffee table that was in front of the chair. He opened each bottle and dumped it's contents onto the table. In less than a minute, there were about fifty pills, all different sizes and colors, in a pile upon the table. Gerard stared at them for a moment, swirling them around with his fingers. He liked how they felt cool and smooth against his fingers. He knew this was a fucked up answer to his problems but he couldn't see how he could go on. He couldn't see an alternative. His thoughts drifted to Mikey. Mikey, the one person who understood him. The one person who had been his partner in crime for twenty something years. He felt a pang of guilt about his intended actions. He loved his brother more than anything in the world and knew this would hurt him. Gerard knew he would eventually understand. He was sure of this.

He got up and retrieved a pen and paper from the kitchen along with a bottle of water from the fridge. He took the pen and scrawled out a message.

Mikey,

I'm sorry. I love you

Gerard.

Short and to the point. He laid the paper on the coffee table and opened the bottle of water. With a shaking hand, he picked up the first pill, an antidepressant. He put it in his mouth and took a swig of water. He reached for another and another. Within a minute, the water bottle was empty and no pills remained on the table. Gerard leaned back into the chair and waited for the end to come.

CHAPTER TWO

Mikey Way sat in the passenger seat of the white van that Frank Iero was driving. They were listening to Morrissey and Mikey was staring out the window watching the scenery moving in and out of his view. They were going to pick up Gerard, then meet Ray Toro and Bob Bryar at the airport. Mikey was looking forward to seeing Gerard. It had only been three days but he had missed his older brother. After growing up so close, it was hard and a little unnerving to be away for so long. They shared a bond that he thought was special and unique. Gerard looked out for him and vice versa. Besides just missing his brother in general, Mikey was also worried about him. Before their break, Gerard has seemed anxious and nervous. Mikey had seen him like this before. In fact, he had seen him like that numerous times and it had never ended well. It usually ended up with Gerard getting his medication adjusted or re-enterting therapy. He knew this was something that Gerard didn't want to deal with again. Mikey let out a sigh that triggered a response from Frank.

"Something on your mind?" Frank asked, turning his head slightly toward Mikey. Mikey began to say something but paused a moment, then he hesitantly responded.

"I'm just a little worried about Gerard." He looked over at Frank. " Did he seem a little uneven to you?" He furrowed his brow as he waited for Frank to respond.

"Gerard is always uneven. It's just Gerard. Mikey, you worry to much." Mikey thought about this for a moment. He considered what Frank had said. Gerard was always a bit quirky. He relaxed a bit.

"You're right. Damn, I do worry to much." Frank laughed at this statement.

"And that is what makes you uneven but we still like you."

Mikey smiled and returned to looking out the window. They were turning onto Gerard's street and he could see his house. It was a single story brick ranch, much like the one they grew up in, and it had a gravel driveway. Mikey knew this was Gerard's favorite feature about the house. He wasn't sure why but then again, as much has he tried, he never fully understood anything about his brother.

Frank pulled in the driveway and put the van into park. Mikey got out and trotted up the front door and rang the doorbell. Gerard had always told him to just enter but he felt weird about doing that. He felt like he owed his brother the courtesy of ringing the doorbell. Mikey stood there for a minute and was greeted with the sound of silence. He rang the bell again and again but no one answered the door. He turned around and looked at Frank.

"He's not answering!" Mikey yelled. Frank rolled his eyes.

"Well, no shit! He's probably still sleeping! Just go in!" Mikey turned back around and fished his key ring from the pocket of his sweatshirt. He found the key to the house and fumbled it a bit as he put it into the dead bolt. He turned it until he felt a faint click. He turned the knob and opened the door. The light flooded the dark foyer and he cautiously stuck his head in.

"Gerard?" He called...nothing. He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped in, leaving the door slightly ajar so he could see where he was going. The house was silent and dark. He walked into the living room and flipped on a lamp. He smiled as he saw Gerard asleep in the chair.

"Gerard! Wake-up, we're going to be late!" He yelled as he walked toward his brother. He went to go playfully smack Gerard when his hand froze mid-air. Gerard's lips were blue. Mikey felt his body go cold for a moment and everything seemed to be in slow motion as he realized Gerard wasn't breathing. His eyes darted around the room and fell upon the empty orange pill bottles that were strewn across the coffee table and then the piece of paper with Gerard's messy handwriting all over it. What was this? Why did he have pills? His mind was going a hundred and twenty miles an hour as he ran the rest of the way to his brother.

"Fuck! Fuck, what did you do?!" He yelled at him. He wasn't sure how loud he was screaming but to him it felt like it wasn't loud enough. He felt Gerard's neck for a pulse and was shocked to feel how cold he was. Mikey couldn't find a pulse and this sent a wave of fear through him.

"What the fuck did you do?!" He screamed again. He felt around for his cell phone franticly, panic filling his body. He was scared...scared that his brother was going die or already dead. He couldn't find his cell phone. Where the fuck was his cell phone?

"Fuck!" He yelled again, feeling tears of frustration fill his eyes. He ran out of the house as fast as his shaking legs would let him. He knew Frank would have a phone. He had to get help. He stumbled out of the house, into the daylight and back to the van. Frank looked up and was startled by Mikey's appearance.

"What the hell..." Frank mumbled. Mikey's face looked pale and there were tears streaming down his face. "What happened?"

"Frank...call 911." Mikey started "Gerard..." He choked on the words. Frank's eyes widened and he grabbed the cell phone that was sitting on the dashboard and jumped out of the van. Mikey had sank to his knees and was shaking slightly.

"Gerard tried to kill...killed himself." Mikey finally choked out. Mikey kept a steady gaze on Frank, who was already dialing the numbers, trying to get a grip on the situation. He saw Frank's lips moving but he couldn't hear what he was saying. He watched as Frank snapped his phone shut and then all of a sudden he was face to face with Mikey.

"Mikey...Mikey!" Frank was calling his name. Mikey looked up as Frank placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Frank...Oh my God...Frank...He...Gerard" Mikey stuttered, fighting back more tears.

"The ambulance and police are on the way. Is he...?" Frank's voice trailed off.

" I don't know! I don't know! He was cold and I felt for a pulse and...and..." Mikey could hear sirens in the distance and he felt like they couldn't get there fast enough. Frank was sitting next to him, an arm wrapped around him. They both watched in silence as the ambulance pulled up in front of the house, the police behind them. Two paramedics stormed into the house with a stretcher and various medical equipment along with a police officer. The other police officer walked up to Mikey and Frank. It was a woman and she crouched down in front of the two.

"I'm Officer Mitchell" She said. Her voice was soothing and had a calming effect. Her face was concerned as she continued to speak.

"Are you family?" She asked. Mikey looked up at her.

"I'm his brother. He's his friend." Mikey pointed a shaky finger at Frank. Officer Mitchell nodded, then looked up as what they assumed was her partner walked out of the front door. "Excuse me" She said as he stood up and walked toward the other officer. Both men watched intently, unable to hear what the two were saying. Mikey's gaze wandered to the front door and he felt his breathe get caught in his throat as he saw Gerard being wheeled from his house on a stretcher. He felt Frank's arm tighten around his shoulders as well. In the light he could see how bad Gerard looked. His skin was a grayish white and his lips still had that bluish tint to them but it was harder to see now that there were tubes in his mouth. Mikey felt the slightest twinge of hope as he watched the scene before him. If they were taking him to a hospital then he must be alive! He must have a chance. Officer Mitchell walked back over to them and began to speak.

"We're taking your brother to St. Joseph Mercy. Do you know where that is and can either of you drive?" She waited for a response.

"I do and I can." Frank said in a somber voice as the ambulance's engine roared to life and the sirens sounded again.

"All right. We'll meet you there." On that note, she trotted back to the squad car and got in. Within moments, the car had left, most likely following the ambulance to the hospital. Frank stood up and reached a hand out to Mikey. Mikey stared at it dumbly for a moment before taking it. Frank helped him up. Frank stood there, watching Mikey, who was still shaking. He looked lost, scared and a whole menagerie of other emotions. Frank instinctively pulled him into a hug.

"He'll be okay, Mikey. We have to believe that." He whispered. Mikey hugged him back.

"I want to believe that." They pulled apart and without speaking got back into the van. Frank started it and they backed out of the driveway. Mikey noticed how everything looked the same as it had when they were on their way to Gerard's house. He felt bitter about it. The rest of the world was going on like normal even though his was caving in on him.

The hospital was only twenty minutes away but it felt like twenty hours. The silence in the van was deafening and Mikey felt an enormous relief when they pulled up in front of the emergency room. Frank found a parking space, ran all the way from the van, then darted through the double doors that lead into the ER. They went up to the receptionist and asked for Gerard Way. She looked up something in the computer and told them that they could wait in the waiting room and a doctor would be with them shortly. They were dismayed with this but sat down anyway. Mikey looked around the waiting area. It was a comfortable room with dark purple carpet and cream colored walls. There were abstract paintings hung on the wall and a few potted plants. The chairs, he concluded, left something to be desired. Frank was seated next to him, turning his cell phone over and over in his hands.

"Should we call anyone?" Mikey asked in a small voice as Frank looked up.

"Your parents?" Mikey shook his head.

"Out of town. I have the number at home."

"Ray and Bob?"

"I guess so. They are probably wondering where we are." Frank nodded in agreement and stood up.

"I'll call them. Come and get me if the doctor shows up." Mikey said that he would and Frank went in the direction of the lobby, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He thought about random conversations and memories from the past years and it helped comfort him. When he ran out of those, he thought about nothing at all. He stared at the doorway to the rest of the hospital for awhile and then at Frank's feet when he returned. Frank told him that Ray and Bob were on their way there. Mikey nodded.

"How much longer do you think?" Mikey asked Frank. Frank shrugged.

"It's only been an hour. No news is good news, right? Isn't that what they alw--" Frank stopped mid-sentence and stared at something in front of him. Mikey followed his gaze to the doctor that was scanning the waiting room. The doctor focused in on them and he swiftly walked over.

"Gerard Way?" He asked. They nodded. "Follow me." The stood up and followed the doctor out of the waiting room and into the harsh hospital halls. They were lead into a small room with a few chairs, a coffee table and box of tissues. They all sat. The tension in the room was thick and Mikey couldn't keep himself from fidgeting.

"I'm Doctor Constantine. I was the attending that treated Gerard." He looked at Mikey and Frank, seeing the anxiety written across both of them. "We found an overdose of three different medications in his system. We administered charcoal but unfortunately, a lot of the pills were already dissolved. Because of the medication, it caused his respiratory system to shut down and..." Dr. Constantine paused a moment. "...his heart to stop. We tried for forty minutes to resuscitate him but I'm sorry, he died."

Mikey felt his throat make a sound that was inhuman and couldn't control the tears that were coming from his eyes. There was a dull ache in head and he felt dizzy. He looked at Frank, who sat stone still silently in the chair, his mind reeling and feeling slightly numb. Mikey took a deep breath, regaining his composure for a moment.

"Can I see him?" He asked, wiping his eyes. Dr. Constantine nodded, standing up.

"Mikey...Oh God, I... I'll wait for Bob and Ray." Frank told Mikey, who stood up as well. "I'll come find you when they get here." Frank exited the room with the others. The doctor and Mikey turned left while he turned right and went back into the waiting room. He stumbled to a chair and sat down before letting the tears fall. Gerard was dead.

"Frank?" Frank's head snapped up at the sound of Ray's voice. "What happened?" Ray and Bob were standing in from of him with worried expressions on their faces. They knew that Gerard was the reason they were here but they didn't know why. Frank hadn't been very clear on the phone. Frank took in a shaky breath before speaking.

"We went to pick up Gerard and Mikey...Mikey found him. " Frank was searching for the right words. "He had overdosed on pills."

"Is he okay? Where's Mikey?" Ray's voice was sounding slightly frantic.

"He's dead. Gerard is dead." Saying the words brought on a whole new wave of tears.

****************

Mikey had followed the doctor to a trauma room and entered as the doctor opened the doors for him.

"I'll leave you alone for a while. There is a chair in the corner. Again, I'm sorry." Mikey waited for the doctor to leave before pulling up a chair next to Gerard. He felt the hurt welling up inside of him as he stared at his brother's lifeless form. His skin was pale and blended in with the hospital sheets. His dark hair fell damply around his face, framing his features. He looked so peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Except for the absence of his chest rising and falling, Mikey almost believed that was all he was doing. He took Gerard's hand, noticing how much bigger and darker his looked on top his brothers. He hated how cold his hands felt.

"Gerard..." Mikey began softly, letting the tears fall. "Why? Why did you do this?" He could feel the anger rising in his throat now.

"Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you ask for fucking help?" He knew his voice was rising but he couldn't help it.

"What the fuck am I going to do now?!"

Gerard remained silent.

*********************

CHPATER THREE

*********************

Mikey stared numbly at the television whose light illuminated the dark room. He was sitting cross legged on his favorite overstuffed chair and he leaned back into the comfort of the soft cushions as he watched Gerard's face flash across the screen.

"Gerard Way, the front man of My Chemical Romance, died yesterday at the age of twenty seven from a drug overdose..."

The words stung Mikey like a thousand needles. It had only been a day but Gerard's death was already national news. The screen switched from Gerard's face to a crowd of people, crying, holding signs and laying flowers at a spot on the sidewalk. It touched Mikey to know that so many people were affected by his brother and their music. It was almost unbearable to listen to MTV News relay yesterday's event to the general public but in a way, he was drawn to it. It was like he couldn't stop watching even if he wanted to. He continued watching the television.

"Apparently, Way suffered from severe depression and had problems with drugs in the past."

Mikey sighed and sat forward. This was the fifth time he had seen this broadcast and he knew what was coming next.

"Mikey Way, Gerard Way's brother and bassist of the band, found him but unfortunately, it was not in time."

Mikey gave a small grunt. The media sure had a blunt way of saying things. It was not in time. No, no is wasn't and he wished that he could chance that. If the hurt and pain of losing his brother wasn't enough, he had to deal with the tremendous guilt of not finding him in time. They all told him it wasn't his fault. How could he have known? He should have known. There as a gnawing feeling in the back of his mind that he could have prevented his brother's death.

Mikey reached over to the end table that was placed beside the chair and felt around for the pack of cigarettes he had purchased earlier. He had always hated the things but he figured that if there was ever a time to start smoking, it was now. He pulled a cigarette from the cardboard box and picked up the lighter that was on the table as well. He lit up the cigarette and took a long drag. It burned his throat and he fought back the urge to cough. He watched the cloud of smoke escape his mouth and disperse in the air. He felt unsettled and as cliche as it sounded, the cigarettes calmed him down. He took another drag. It was easier than the first and he felt he did it as though he had been a smoker for a long time instead of a few hours.

Gerard's face had returned to the screen, a video cap from "I'm Not Okay", and he looked sickly in the picture.

'Gerard Way: April 9, 1977 - November 13, 2004' appeared at the bottom of the screen. Mikey stared at the screen as the picture faded and a commercial came on. At the sight of his brother he felt the hot tears sting his eyes but he wouldn't let them fall. He hadn't cried since he was at the hospital. It wasn't that he didn't want to cry, he couldn't. He knew that if he cried for his brother, it meant he was truly gone and that wasn't something he was ready to accept yet.

"Mikey, maybe you should switch to another show." Mikey jumped at the sound of Frank's voice behind him. Frank had insisted on staying with Mikey until his parents returned home. The talk with his parents had been horrible. How do you tell them that their son just killed himself? They were heading home that night and would get there sometime in the next day. Mikey felt Frank's hand on his shoulder. Frank eyed the cigarette in Mikey's hand.

"When did you start smoking?" Frank's voice was questioning. Mikey shrugged in reply and took a drag. Frank sighed. "Well, at least let me take a drag then." Mikey offered him the cigarette and Frank took it, inhaling the smoke and the nicotine. Frank walked around to the couch that sat perpendicular to the chair and took a seat.

"I like the casket you picked out. I think Gerard would have too." Frank told him softly. Mikey nodded, not really wanting to think about it. He had met with the funeral director that day and picked out a casket, headstone and all the other little things that go along with a funeral. It was the worst thing he had ever had to do in his life. He thought about Frank's comment. The casket was black marble, so black that you could see your reflection in it like a mirror. The liner was cream colored silk. There were going to be two showings the day after next and then then the funeral the following day.

"I would have rather not picked anything out at all." was Mikey's staunch reply. The MTV News came back on and Mikey fixed his eyes on the screen. Frank sighed as he and Mikey sat there in silence and watched the news for the rest of the night.

*********************

CHAPTER FOUR

*********************

Mikey sat out on his balcony in the thin sunlight of January. The funeral was already two months behind him. The funeral. The funeral had been a tragic affair. Mikey had watched in horror as people broke down at the sight of his brother. He couldn't blame the people. He himself had been a sore sight for eyes as well.

The cold New Jersey wind kicked in, causing Mikey to hug his arms to his thin body and wrap the blanket around him a little tighter. He thought about the funeral some more. The sadness had been overwhelming. It had enveloped Mikey through the entire ordeal and more than once he had to leave the funeral home to compose himself. He wasn't sleeping. He couldn't sleep. His dreams were poisoned by the sight of Gerard, blue and cold. it seemed that every time he shut his eyes Gerard was there, haunting him. Even now, he was still bothered by the dreams.

Everyone had been very understanding, though. Many told them that they were there if he ever needed anything. He always smiled and thanked them, as if both parties knew that that it would never happen.

It was shortly after the funeral that the band decided to take an indefinite hiatus. They all knew Mikey really wasn't in a state of mind to deal with the band and the others weren't sure where to go from there. They knew that it would never really be the same without Gerard and they didn't know if they could ever replace him. Ray had gone home, as had Bob. Frank, well, Frank decided that he wasn't going to leave Mikey until he was sure that Mikey was going to be okay. Frank and Mikey had been living together for about two months now. Mikey always appreciated Frank's presence. He had been there to wake Mikey up from the dreams that haunted him, to cheer him up when he felt depressed. If there was a definition of a perfect friend, Frank had been living it for the last two months. He was the only one Mikey felt like talking to. He was really the only other person he trusted undoubtedly.

Mikey hadn't been easy to live with for last two months. The moods swings were always terrible. Mikey would go from being semi-normal to depressed to angry. Frank usually got the brunt of this but he stayed there to help Mikey through it. He thought back to a few days ago.

"Why do you do it?" Mikey screamed. "How do you deal with me?" Frank was standing in the doorway of the living room, staring at him, who was pacing around the living room like the world was going to end if he stopped.

"I deal with it because I know it isn't going to last forever. You're my friend. Why would I abandon you when you need someone the most?" Frank said with an even tone. He knew it might calm Mikey down but instead Mikey continued to pace.

"Frank, you're too good for me! I swear it." Mikey kept pacing but put his hands to his head. "I want this to be done with. I'm going crazy. I'm really going fucking crazy!" Frank walked up from where he was standing and put is hands on Mikey's shoulders.

"Look at me. You're not going crazy. You are just having some problems. You need to give the medication a chance to work." Mikey stopped for a moment.

"I don't like how it makes me feel. I don't feel right on it. I can't explain...it's like I'm not all there." Mikey stared at Frank, pleading with his eyes, trying to make him understand.

"I know...but just try it okay?"

The medication. Mikey sighed. They had put him on an antidepressant about a month ago. He had went to see a therapist to try to work out his issues but it wasn't helping him. It was at the suggestion of the therapist that he sought out medication. the doctors told him that he had an imbalance and that getting on an antidepressant would help his anxiety and depression. It didn't help but they were still playing around with the dosage. For the present, Mikey was trying to avoid taking his medication at all costs.

Mikey zoned back into the present and watched with interest as the sun set. It painted the sky an array of warm colors and Mikey felt captivated by it.

"You still want to go?" Frank's voice tore Mikey away from his thoughts. They were going to a party, the first Mikey had been to since Gerard died. He really didn't want to go but he knew it was attempt by Frank to cheer him up. He gave Frank the best smile he could muster and stood up, leaving the blanket on the chair he was sitting in.

"Yeah, I still want to go." Frank smiled, relieved that Mikey wasn't going to barricade himself in the apartment tonight. Both men walked back into the apartment and Frank told Mikey he was going to change his shirt and then he'd be ready. Mikey nodded and watched as Frank disappeared into his bedroom.

Mikey found his converse sneakers, classic black and white, and sat down on the couch to put them on. He glanced down at what he was wearing. There were the flared jeans he had been wearing for a day or so, a senses fail t-shirt and a black zip up hoodie. He decided that it was presentable. He had a black hat thrown over his hair and he knew that it looked okay. Frank was in the living room by then and he stood up and followed him out the front door and to his car that was parked in front of the building. They both got in wordlessly.

Mikey watched as Frank started the car and turned the headlights on. Frank's hand instantly went to the radio and flipped it to the CD player. The sounds of Iron Maiden filled the car. Mikey smiled at this thoughtful gesture. Frank wasn't exactly a huge Iron Maiden fan but he knew Mikey liked it.

"This party is supposed to be really good! A friend of mine is throwing it, Kevin...do you remember Kevin?" Frank small talked as they drove through the Jersey streets and suburbs. Mikey nodded.

"Wasn't he a year ahead of us?" Mikey asked.

"Yes..." Frank paused, chuckling a moment. "He was the one that spray painted 'mother fuckers' on the school lawn."

Mikey laughed at the memory. They had all gone to school that morning and a crowd had been standing on the lawn. When Frank, Mikey and Gerard had pushed their way to the front, they saw that in red block letters 'mother fuckers' was spray painted on the lawn. The look on the principals face was priceless. It took almost a week before the red letters had totally faded. Kevin was suspended for a month but he was infamous after that. Mikey realized Frank was staring at him.

"What?"

"You laughed." Frank said in amazement. "It's good to hear that again."

*********************

A few minutes later they pulled up in front of a big house. It looked like it was built in the forties and it had many windows. Frank parked and they both got out and walked up the steps to the front door. Frank rang the doorbell and almost instantaneously the door opened and they were ushered in. The guy who let them in shoved two plastic cups into their hands and walked away. Mikey lifted his up to his nose and the strong odor of beer filled his nostrils. Frank did the same then took a sip. Mikey looked at the liquid a second time then downed the whole thing.

"Jesus!" Frank said, after Mikey had finished it in less than a minute. Mikey shrugged, smiling again.

"I was thirsty and this is a party right?" Frank stared at him a moment.

"Yeah, it is. it's just that..." Mikey interrupted him.

"Just what?"

"Can you drink on your medication? I didn't think about..." Mikey cut him off again, slightly annoyed. He really hadn't wanted to come but now that he was here and already had a beer in him, he felt better about the situation. He thought that maybe if he got drunk it could help him numb some of the emotional pain. He didn't want to be fall down, room spinning, head in hands drunk but getting buzzed would defiantly be worth it. He also didn't want Frank to know that he had stopped taking his medication so he interrupted him before Frank pressed to much.

"It said alcohol in moderation was okay. Don't worry. I won't do anything stupid." Frank looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, if you want to go just tell me." Mikey nodded and turned around to find another drink. Frank stared a moment at Mikey before turning the other way to find Kevin. He was glad that Mike was finally lightening up. He had barely left the house in the last two months. He just hoped that Mikey wouldn't overdo the beer.

*********************

Mikey left the foyer and discarded his empty cup in a trash bag that was placed on the railing to the stairs that led up to the second floor of the house. The hallway he was walking in was dimly lit and he could feel the bass of a rock song vibrating the floor. He found the kitchen at the end of the hallway and was pleased to find a keg in the corner of the small room. He grabbed another red plastic cup from a stack on the counter and quickly filled it with icy cold liquid. He put the cup to his lips, closed his eyes and downed it. He did that two more times and was on his fourth when he heard a female voice from the corner of the room.

"Slow down, killer. What are your intentions here?" Mikey stopped mid-gulp and his eyes focused in a slim, pale girl sitting at a kitchen table. She had short red hair and there was something about her that made Mikey feel slightly uncomfortable. The girl spoke again.

"You're going to be hammered before the party has even begun!" Mikey gave a snort of sorts.

"My intentions exactly." The girl laughed, getting up.

"I see. Are you trying to forget something?" Mikey looked at his half finished beer.

"You could say that..." He let his voice trail off. The girl was standing next to him now. She took the beer out of his hands and set it on the counter.

"My name is April. I can get you something better than beer to help you forget." Mikey was already on his way to getting drunk and there was something about her that intrigued him even though she made him uneasy.

" And what would that be?" he asked. She took his hand, smiling and led him out of the kitchen.

*********************

Mikey was led back into the dark hallway and followed April up the stairs. The stairs creaked under their weight and even though there weren't that many of them, Mikey felt winded after getting to the top. April let go of his hand and smiled.

"I told you my name, now, what is yours?" Mikey felt like he was under a spell.

"Mikey."

"Mikey...I like it." She said, giggling. "Now, come with me." She opened a door and walked into a small bedroom. Mikey followed her. The room had no bed but huge pillows everywhere. The walls were dark blue and there were black curtains covering the only window. There were about five people, seated on the pillows, around a glass coffee table. April took a seat and patted the pillow next to her. Mikey stared at the dark fabric for a moment before taking a seat.

The beer had begun to take effect and it took him a moment to fix his eyes on the table. When his eyes focused he saw that there was white powder all over the table. Cocaine. Mikey realized April was talking to him.

"Have you ever done a line?" she was asking, her eyes glowing with intensity.

"No..." Mikey paused, wondering whether not to continue. "but my brother used to." She smiled.

"Smart guy." Mikey remained silent. Smart guy. Oh, if only she knew. He watched as people made lines and then snorted them up. He watched as April made two lines, did one, then looked at Mikey expectantly. He was drunk, he knew this much and it wasn't really helping. He looked at the neat line of white powder and thought of Gerard. So many times he had stumbled onto the tour bus coked up and drunk. Mikey had always hated it. It scared him to see him so out of it that he couldn't function. He would help him to his bunk always noting how out of it he was. He never fully understood why he did it. He'd asked him once and Gerard told him that it made all his problems go away. Mikey thought about that last statement. He wanted all of his problems to go away. He took the rolled up dollar bill from April and leaned forward so that his face was only a few inches from the table. He stared at the line, seeing Gerard's face in front of him. He exhaled slowly, then in one swift movement, snorted the line.

*********************

CHAPTER FIVE

*********************

Mikey sat in the living room, smoking a cigarette. He was waiting for April to come over. Ever since the night of the party he had been seeing her on a regular basis. Everyone thought that they were just dating. That is was a casual romance of sorts to take Mikey's mind off of other things. When people met April, they loved her. She had a certain charisma about her that put people at ease. She came across as beautiful and intelligent. Well, intelligent despite the fact that she was a cocaine addict and Mikey's new dealer.

That first line he had tried changed something inside of him. He had felt sick at first and as the drug set in,it made everything in the room zoom in and out. He had to lean back against the wall and close his eyes to keep from getting sick. He felt his heart rate speed up and could feel the beat of his pulse in his ears. It was so foreign yet so familiar. At first it had scared the shit out of him but it only lasted for a few minutes before the most wonderful body numbing high set in. Compared to being drunk, it was a million times greater. April had leaned back against the wall as well before taking Mikey's head into her lap. He had laid there for an unknown amount of time, staring alternately at April's face and the ceiling. When he slept that night, he didn't dream of Gerard. For the first time in two months, he felt okay.

Mikey took a long drag off of his cigarette and sighed. He had been searching for that high for almost a month now. It was always close but not quite as intense. He was up to snorting two...three lines at a time, sometimes more than once a day. He had lost weight but hid it well beneath baggier clothes. Frank pressed him about the weight loss one time and he had pushed it off on his nonexistent medication. He had stopped seeing his doctors all together as he felt that they weren't helping him. April was helping him. April was the one that was making him feel normal again.

The cigarette was almost out and he snubbed it the rest of the way in the glass ashtray that was perched carefully on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. He was just about to light another one when he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Finally." He muttered softly. He walked briskly to the door, unlocked it and flung it open. April was leaning to one side of the doorframe, smiling.

"Miss me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Mikey laughed, beckoning her into the apartment.

"You bet." She laughed at the comment as they walked into Mikey's bedroom.

"Well, in that case..." She opened the worn canvas messenger bag that she always carried and removed two small packets from a rip in the bottom. "We need to find a way to make some use of these."

She tossed them to Mikey, who caught them then immediately opened them and poured them onto the small mirror that was on his dresser. He expertly began to separate the powder into neat lines. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. He was pleased that there were six lines. He turned to April.

"How much?" April was now perched on the end of his bed, fiddling with something inside her bag.

"Um, I got a good deal, so it's only eighty this time." Mikey nodded and retrieved the bills from his wallet and tossed them toward her. She collected them, stuffed them into the back pocket of her jeans and smiled. "Ah! Here it is." She said as she removed a small vial from the bag. Mikey had already done a line and looked at her with interest.

"What is that?" He asked as he handed April the rolled bill and watched as she snorted a courtesy line. When she was done she spoke.

"This, my friend, is heroin." She smiled broadly, holding the vial up for Mikey to look at. Mikey looked at it with some interest. He had stories about how heroin was the ultimate drug. Mikey did another line and by the time he was done April had also pulled out two syringes.

"What do you say? It's on me." She waved the two syringes in front of him. Mikey was already feeling effects of the coke but it wasn't that wonder high he was searching for. He had a slight fear of needles but felt he could brave it one time to see if he could relive that high.

"Well..." Mikey began hesitantly. "I guess I'll try anything once." April clapped her hands together.

"Excellent!" She went about filling the syringes from the vial and tapping the air bubbles out. Mikey watched, amazed at how easily she did every action. When she was done, she set the two syringes on the dresser and told Mikey to take his belt off. He did as he was instructed and she then told him to hold his arm out. Again, as if he were under a spell, he rolled up the sleeve of his long sleeve t-shirt and held out his bare arm.

"Okay." she began. "What you have to do is tighten the belt around your bicep as tight as it will go." She did this until it was almost painfully too tight. "Now, squeeze your fist a few times so your veins pop out." Mikey squeezed his fist a few times and like magic, the veins in his arm began to rise.

"Now, this is the hard part. Well, hard the first time you do it anyway."

She retrieved a syringe from the dresser and posed it above the biggest vein in Mikey's arm. They locked eyes for a moment and Mikey nodded his head with a mix of eager anticipation and fear. April stuck the needle into his arm and Mikey winced slightly in pain. He watched as the almost clear liquid escaped into his veins and sucked in his breath as his arm began to feel like it was on fire. It subsided a moment later and was replaced with that high he had felt only a month earlier.

"Do you like it?" April asked, her voice conveying her eagerness. Mikey nodded furiously as he leaned back into the pillows of his bed to enjoy the high. He watched as April expertly put the belt around her arm and commanded her veins to show themselves. He only grimaced slightly at the sight of all the track marks up and down her arm. When she was done she leaned back into the emptiness next to Mikey and they laid side by side a moment, enjoying their highs. A few moments later, she rolled over and looked at Mikey who shaking, probably at the peak of his high. His eyes had a glazed look that she recognized well and he was breathing rapidly in short spurts. She kissed Mikey gently on the forehead, noting how her lips felt like ice on his hot skin and got up.

"I'll see you tomorrow." she winked, leaving Mikey lying on his bed, shaking and alone.

*********************

CHAPTER SIX

*********************

"Mikey, E flat! E flat, not natural!" Mikey shot his head up at the sound of Ray's irritated voice. Frank was staring at him as well and Bob quickly glanced away when Mikey turned his head to look. Ray sighed.

"I guess we could break for a little." He said. "Let's be back in an hour? Mikey, you need to work on this piece. It's in B Flat Major, all the E's are flat."

Mikey nodded and then looked down as his bass, reading the sheet of music in front of him and fingering the notes silently. They were practicing a few pieces for their third and final album. There were about six tracks that didn't get put on "Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge" and they thought that as a final tribute to Gerard they would release these tracks on a third album with a few new songs. Ray would be doing the lead vocals for these tracks. It was late March and they had written most of the songs. Now they were just trying to solidify them before heading into the studio. They had met at Bob's house and had been practicing that day for about three hours.

Mikey watched Ray and Bob out of the corner of his eye as they left quickly. He noticed that Frank had remained in the room. He was slightly annoyed by this since he really wanted to go do a line. It was to the point where Mikey rarely did anything to get high. It was to the point where he needed the drugs just to function. It took a lot of coke or heroin to get him high like he wanted to. He could feel the symptoms of withdrawal setting in and he knew that was the reason he was messing up the notes so badly. He hoped that Frank wouldn't stay to long. Mikey paused from his practicing and looked up at Frank.

"I don't mean to keep screwing up. I know it's E flat." he said plainly. Frank nodded but didn't speak. Mikey looked down at his bass again.

"Do you think Bob and Ray are terribly mad?" he asked, his voice quiet. Frank sat down next to Mikey.

"I don't think they're as much mad as they are worried." he said. Mikey grunted.

"Worried...why? They have nothing to worry about." Mikey said nervously, trying to downplay Frank's statement. Frank shook his head.

"Are you sure? I mean, not to be harsh, but look at you. You look sick all the time. You're skin is always pale, you have huge, and I mean huge, bags under your eyes. You don't seem to be with it. You space out, you disappear for a day or so and no one can get ahold of you..." Frank paused, looking at Mikey. "We just don't know."

"I'm fine."

Mikey knew this was a lie and he knew that Frank knew it was a lie. He had wanted to tell Frank so many times that he needed help. To tell him about the heroin and coke. All it would take was to roll up his sleeves and the truth would be apparent. He knew he could never do that. What would they say? He knew what they'd say. They'd say that he ended up just like his brother and that was something he couldn't deal with. Frank kept his gaze on Mikey and for some reason it made him feel incredibly guilty. Guilty and remorseful.

"I'm fine! I'm fucking fine!" Mikey yelled, throwing his bass down onto the ground and standing up. He needed something and soon.

"Just stop...I'm fine!"

Frank looked taken aback at the sudden outburst and it confirmed his suspicions that his friend was not okay. Mikey started to run from the room but he got dizzy, faltered, then fell against the wall. He knew this wasn't good. He was still standing but was leaning forward and gripping the wall for support. He felt really hot and sick to his stomach. Before he could control it, he vomited. He slid the rest of the way to floor and curled up with his knees to his chin. He couldn't shake the sick feeling. He felt such disgust with himself at that moment that it was almost unbearable. It was then the first of the sobs came. They racked his whole body and he knew it must be hard for Frank to watch the scene. It was as if everything he had shoved down for the last few months came bubbling out. He knew he was not only crying for himself but for Gerard and the band. He was crying because he felt empty and alone. He felt a hand gingerly touch his shoulder and winced at the human contact.

"Mikey?" It was Frank. His voice seemed to be pleading and he thought he could hear the slightest twinge of fear in it. Mikey's response was a sob. Frank wrapped his arms around Mikey and could feel him shaking.

"Mikey...you're not fine." he whispered into his ear. "Please, let me help you." Mikey caught his breath and spoke.

"No." Frank remained where he was.

"Please." It was only one word but it hit Mikey really hard. He was still crying but for the moment it was just tears spilling over and running down his cheeks. He put his hand to the cuff of his button down shirt and slowly pulled it up past his elbow. The black shirt looked even blacker against his pale, bony arm and the angry crimson red track marks spoke louder than any words he could have said. He heard Frank suck in his breath.

"Oh my God." It was silent a moment and then Frank wrapped Mikey into an even tighter hug. Mikey went slack a little relieved that Frank's immediate reaction wasn't anger. After a minute or so, Frank spoke again.

"We'll get you help. Oh God, Mikey. We should have known." Mikey shook his head.

"It's okay. I was good at hiding it." Mikey paused a moment. "Frank...I need something or I'm going to get sicker."

"I don't know..."

"I want help, I do but I...I don't know how to tell Bob and Ray. I just want to get through today and we can figure things out tomorrow."

Frank looked at Mikey, who was sweaty and shaking. He knew what the secret was now, so there was really no way for Mikey to hide anymore. He also knew that it must have taken a lot of guts to show him his arms and he didn't want to lose that trust. He nodded, showing his approval for Mikey's request. Frank removed his arms from around Mikey and sat next to him as Mikey removed a small pouch from his shirt pocket. It contained a small container and he watched as Mikey screwed off the cap. There was a wand attached to the cap, much like the one for a container of bubbles, only instead of bubbles at the end, there was coke. He watched painfully as Mikey snorted the white substance and was relieved when he was finished. Mikey looked at Frank.

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

Frank nodded, the color was returning to Mikey's face and his shaking was starting to cease. They sat side by side, silently, their minds reeling from the events that took place only twenty minutes ago.

*********************

CHAPTER SEVEN

*********************

Mikey and Frank sat in their apartment living room after the rehearsal that afternoon. Mikey had managed to compose himself by the time Ray and Bob returned and the rest of the rehearsal went well after that. He knew that he would have to eventually tell the other two guys about his problem but that was something he'd worry about later. He could feel Frank's gaze on him and he knew that Frank, intentionally or not, was waiting for some kind of explanation. Mikey fished the pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, skillfully removed one and lit it up. He took a few drags before he started to speak.

"I never meant to get into this." He began. He heard Frank shift on the couch. "It just happened. Well, I guess this never really just happens but I found it by chance." He watched as Frank lit up a cigarette as well.

"I was so unhappy. The anti depressants weren't making a difference and I just stopped taking them all together. Looking back, that probably wasn't a good choice but whatever. When we went to that party, I got wasted pretty fast. As soon as we parted, I pretty much found the keg and just drank." He dared to take a look at Frank who was staring down at his hands.

"I guess that party wasn't such a great idea, huh?" He mumbled into his hands. Mikey shook his head.

"No but don't even start to feel bad about that. You didn't know." Mikey paused briefly before continuing. "There was this girl, who was sitting in the corner. She kinda barbed me on how much I was drinking and for some reason, she asked me if I was trying to forget something. I found that comment really weird. It was like she knew. Anyway, she winds up taking me into this bedroom and there were like five or six people just doing line after line. I knew I should have left but I was drunk and the girl seemed so inviting. She made a line for me and I did it. I fucking did it! All I could think of was 'Gerard did it and he said it helped him'. Frank, it was amazing. The high was like, I can't even explain it."

"It was April, wasn't it?" Mikey's head jerked into the direction of Frank. He hadn't been planning on revealing her name but I guess it was bit more apparent that she was the source of the drugs than he had thought.

"Yeah."

"I kind of knew it." Frank sighed. "She ever only came over once a day and never stayed very long. Wow, I can't believe I didn't catch onto that sooner." Mikey shrugged.

"It's not exactly the first thing that comes to anyone's mind about her. Her craft is drug dealing and she is a master at it. She was the one that showed me heroin. She brought it over one day and we did it. It was better than the coke. It lasted longer and was more intense. It just snowballed from there. She'd come over, we'd do a few lines, then shoot up for awhile. It was like a comfortable routine. She had this way of making it seem like shooting up heroin from stolen syringes was normal. Like it was a daily routine similar to brushing your teeth." He looked at Frank.

"Jesus...so this has been going on for over three months?" Mikey nodded.

"I don't know where to go from here. It's to the point where I'm scared to keep doing this. I just need more and more every time. I don't want to die, Frank." Mikey finished softly.

"I won't let that happen." Frank said fiercely. "I guess the first thing would be to get you detoxed or something." Frank stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Are you willing to do that?"

"What about the band? I know we're..." Frank interrupted.

"Fuck the band right now! This is more important at the moment." Mikey stared at Frank.

"The Mountainside Hospital..." Mikey began. "That's where Gerard went the..the first time..he..uh..." Mikey was having trouble saying the words and Frank gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You don't have to say it yet." Frank paused, glancing at his watch. "It's ten thirty. I think you should just sleep. It's been a long day and God knows we have a lot of shit to deal with tomorrow." Mikey nodded in agreement and stood up. He was tired and he did feel like sleeping for a long time. He knew Frank was watching him as he wandered off into the direction of his bedroom.

He walked into the dark room, flipping on the small desk lamp that was on the edge of his dresser. He really liked that lamp. It was just enough light to see what you were doing without it being overbearing. He took off his jeans, threw them into the corner, then did the same thing with his shirt. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and rooted around for something to sleep in. His hands fell upon a pair of worn red and blue flannel pajama pants. He picked them up and hurriedly put them on. He also grabbed an old t-shirt from the same drawer and slipped it on as well. He enjoyed the feeling of air slipping over his exposed arms. He hadn't worn a short sleeve t-shirt in a very long time.

He pulled down the covers to his bed and slipped between the cool sheets. He let himself sink into the bed and into his favorite position. He laid there in the dim light, arms wrapped around a pillow until he heard Frank settle into the room next his. He silently listened to Frank move about his room and finally flop down into his bed. He had done this may nights when he couldn't sleep so he had memorized the sound of all of Frank's movements. He waited ten...fifteen minutes, until he knew for sure that Frank was sleeping before sitting up. He sat cross legged on the bed and let the thoughts run through his head.

He knew that he really couldn't keep going on this way but...but he was unsure if he could really give it up. It truly had become a comfortable mundane routine. He didn't regret telling Frank about his problem but he wasn't sure if he was ready to give it up. He knew that getting clean was going to be a long, painful road and he didn't think he was up for that ride. He needed to think. He needed to get some air and think.

Mikey quickly pulled his shoes on, comfortable sandals, smirking at the ridiculousness of wearing sandals with socks. He went to his closet, pulled out a hoodie and slipped it on. Then, as quietly as he could, he walked through the apartment and out the front door. Once outside, he walked along the quiet, deserted streets. He really enjoyed the frigid night air and how the street lights cast small amber pools of light on the sidewalk. He walked for about an hour, turning corners and crossing streets without really paying attention. He stopped and looked around at his surroundings. All at once, he knew where he was. He was standing in front of April's house.

He checked his watch. Eleven fifty-six. She would be up. He stood there a moment, pondering why he had chosen to walk to her house. Well, he knew why he was there but what he was really considering was if he should go knock on her door. He walked up the winding cement pathway to her house and climbed the three steps that led to her front porch. He held his hand up, ready to the ring the buzzer, but stopped. Biting his lip, he quickly brought his hand back down and turned to leave. He stopped mid-turn and quickly stepped back to the front door, and without thinking about it another second, rang the bell.

The generic doorbell sounded louder than usual to Mikey and the time that elapsed before April opened the door seemed endless. April stood in the doorway, the light from the hallway glowing golden behind her. She smiled when she saw Mikey.

"Mikey, I haven't seen you in, oh, three days? What brings you here?" She grinned manically. Mikey knew she was strung out on something but he really didn't care. He spoke in hurried, breathless words.

"This is the last night I'm going to be here. This is the last time I'm doing this but...for one last time, can you make me forget?" He looked at her with pleading eyes and she smiled.

"But of course!" Mikey stepped into the house and April quietly shut the door behind him.

*********************

CHAPTER EIGHT

*********************

Frank turned restlessly in his bed. He felt unsettled about the information he had learned that afternoon. He felt like he should have known what was going on. They had all seen the signs with Gerard but no one had wanted to admit that Mikey was falling prey to drug addiction as well.

He heard a faint click, the sound of a door shutting quietly, in the silence. He then heard footsteps and the sound of the front door opening. He jumped up, slipping his shoes on and grabbing a sweatshirt. He had a sinking feeling that Mikey was going back to April's. He followed Mikey through the dark, deserted streets being careful not let him know that he was following him. Fortunately for Frank, Mikey never looked back. Frank watched as Mikey stopped abruptly in front of an old colonial home. He felt a little strange about standing in front a home, in a not so good neighborhood, stalking his friend in the middle of the night. He watched as Mikey quickly walked up the front steps and knocked on the door. He hoped that no one would answer but they did. he couldn't see who had answered the door but whoever it was let Mikey enter, then quickly shut the door.

"Fuck" Frank muttered under his breath. He knew that Mikey was going to shoot up or snort something. It left him feeling afraid and uneasy. He had never been too good at confrontations but he knew that he couldn't just skate out of this one. He pondered if anyone would even answer the door for him.

He stood in the freezing night for almost ten minutes trying to come up with a plan of action. Break the door down? Too risky. Call Mikey on his cell phone? No, he wouldn't pick up. He finally decided he would take his chances at knocking on the door.

He jogged across the street and up the same winding pathway Mikey had walked up only ten or so minutes ago. He stood on the porch and with a shaking hand, knocked on the door.

************************

Mikey quickly walked into April's foyer and watched as she shut the door. she walked past him, talking the entire time.

"You came on a good night! I just got a bunch of shit and wow, is it good. Better than I've been getting. Let me tell you, this blow will fuck you up. I only did two lines...two lines and man..." Mikey followed her as she rambled on. He had been to her house many times and but never this late and never uninvited. He was glad she wasn't angry about it.

"Soooo..." she continued. "How fucked up are you looking to get? Because I'm in a pretty good mood tonight so I think I'll treat you. What do you say?"

They were in the living room now. She sat down in a chair and Mikey took a seat on the worn couch. He relaxed a little bit at April's cheery mood.

"I say that sounds wonderful. Like I said, this is the last time, so the sky is the limit." April laughed at this.

"Last time, eh? Oh, how I've heard that. Said it myself a few times." She was skillfully making lines of cocaine on a tv tray. She set it in front of Mikey and smiled. "Try this and tell me what you think."

Mikey returned the smile and did a line. He paused then did a second one. The white powder stung his nose but the sting was outweighed by the body numbing high that immediately followed. It was the quickest and most powerful high Mikey had ever felt. He leaned back into the couch, closed his eyes and let the warmth of the high take over.

April did another line and giggled uncontrollably at Mikey.

"It's good isn't it?"

Mikey nodded his head furiously before opening his eyes. This was amazing to him. He wanted to feel like this forever. How could he give this up? Why would he want to? Thoughts kept racing in his head. Maybe he could just say he'd check into an outpatient program or something. Or that he wanted to cut down first so that the withdrawal wouldn't be so bad. The possibilities were endless. He looked at April.

"Another line?" He said breathlessly. His could feel his heart racing. She nodded and made more lines. She did two then handed the tray to Mikey.

"Enjoy! I'm getting something to drink, want something?" She asked, getting up and teetering a bit. Mikey laughed at her.

"Sure, if you can manage."

She gave him the finger in response and stumbled out of the room. Mikey balanced the tray on his knees and did some more lines. He couldn't believe how incredible he felt. He felt alive. He was putting the tray on the couch next to him when he heard a sharp knock at the door. He stood up, the room spinning slightly and his head pounding.

"April?" he called. No response. The knocking continued. Mikey was having trouble keeping his balance. The coke must have been really strong because he had never felt like this before. He his could still feel his heart racing like he had just run a marathon and he felt hot all over.

"April?" he called again, trying to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. The room was spinning and he leaned against the wall for support. He glanced into the kitchen and April was nowhere to be found. Fuck. The knocking was still going on and he made his way to the front door. It was getting hard to breathe now. He looked through the peep hole and saw Frank standing on the front porch.

"Shit." he muttered, feeling for the door handle. He wasn't in the state of mind for this right now. Oh, God, he wanted the room to stop spinning. He opened the door.

********************

Frank watched anxiously as the front door opened. The light from the house blinded him for a moment but his eyes focused in on Mikey. The sight of him made Frank's stomach lurch slightly. He was pale and his face was shiny with sweat. His eyes had a glazed over look and he was breathing really hard.

"Frank?" His voice was raspy and he swayed slightly. Frank put his hands on his shoulders to steady him.

"Mikey, fuck! What the fuck did you take?" Frank said franticly. He had never seen him like this. Mikey laughed, looking at Frank like he was absurd.

"What do you think? Oh, fuck, I am so high!" He laughed again, stumbling forward causing Frank to step backward. Seeing Mikey high, so messed up he really couldn't function sparked anger in Frank. He shook him trying to get him to stop laughing.

"Look at yourself!" he screamed. "Just fucking look at yourself! Is this what you want?" Mikey closed his eyes.

"Don't fucking shake me like that!" Frank looked at him and did it again. In a way, he was venting anger.

"Like this!?"

"Yes!" Frank watched as Mikey's face paled even more. "Oh, Jesus..." He muttered. He pushed past Frank and threw up in the bushes next to the house. Frank watched as Mikey stood at the edge of the porch hunched over. He felt bad about what he had just done but hell, he couldn't help it. It was frustrating and heartbreaking to see one of his best friends in this state. He walked over to Mikey and rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry. Are you..are you going to be okay?" he asked.

"No." He sounded like a little kid. Like one who had just wandered away from their parent in a crowded mall and couldn't find them again. Mikey stood up. "Take me home, please?"

"Okay."

Frank wrapped an arm around Mikey's shoulders and Mikey leaned heavily into Frank as they made their way down the steps. Frank glanced at Mikey every so often to see if he was doing okay and they had to stop a few more times for Mikey to throw up but eventually, they made it back to their apartment. It wasn't until they had made it into their living room that Frank spoke. He had just helped Mikey onto the couch and stood hovering over him.

"What the fuck was that!?" he yelled angrily. Mikey let his head roll back onto the couch. He was tired, shaky and in general, pretty shitty.

"I..." Mikey started weakly.

"No...Don't speak. You tell me you want help, that you're serious about quitting and then you go on a midnight endeavor to YOUR DEALER'S HOUSE?!!"

Frank was yelling full force now. Mikey flinched at the intensity of his voice.

"I don't understand it! I don't understand why you want to do this to yourself! Why?" It was a loaded question and Mikey was unsure if it was rhetorical or not.

"Frank, I...I know I can't keep this up but I don't want to stop! I don't want to give this up. Oh, God..." Mikey could feel the tears sting his eyes and Frank stood in front of him silently. "Please, don't hate me...I can't take that." he said between the tears. Frank took a seat next to Mikey, letting his head fall into his head. In spite of himself, he could feel his eyes tear up as well.

"I don't know how to help you." He said, choking on the words. "How do I help you?" Mikey just stared at the ceiling, letting the tears roll down his face and hit the fabric of the couch.

"I don't know if you can."

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