Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, don't sue.

Email: Feedback to ninexvoltxheart@yahoo.com

Dedicated to my best friend Katie, with whom I can share anything. <3

"Mikey!?" I called from the hallway.
It was Saturday morning, the day of the Allentown festival. Things were frantic enough as it was without having to search the house for Mikey. Gerard and Ray had taken Bob to the hospital the night before; some complications with his burns occurred unexpectedly. It was obvious the show was going to be canceled, but Mikey and I were still going. We needed to get out of the house. He was supposed to be calling his girlfriend to ask her to tag along. That had been about ten minutes ago. His phone conversations with her usually were longer than they needed to be.
"Mikey! You little shit, hurry up!" I yelled again, walking towards the stairs.
There came a Fump! and something like a muffled sob came from around the corner.
"Mikey?" I said in a soft tone, being a bit bewildered and not to mention worried.
I began turning the corner, I was about five steps away when what could only be breaking glass, shattered above my head.
Upstairs.
I was up the staircase in a flash. Taking about two steps at a time.
Damn, why does this thing have to be so long? Half-way there, ten more steps. Mikey, please, for the love of god, be okay!
Before I could put another foot on the next creaky old step, someone walked out of his room.
Oh fuck.
It was Mikey alright, only, it didn't look like the friend I had known for five years. He looked battered. His face was bright red and his eyes were puffy and swollen. As my own eyes moved further down, I noticed something else tinged a bright red.
What the hell did he do?!
His hands. Rivets of red leaked down them and pitter-pattered on the floor. And that wasn't all. I could clearly see distinct cuts all over his face. It looked like a window spontaneously combusted and blew about a thousand shards into it. But that wasn't it. Windows don't just shatter by themselves and Mikey is smart enough to move away if someone threw something. No, something had to be wrong. The look was all over his face (not to mention blood and what was probably going to be a fresh string of tears).
"Wha- What happened?" I asked like a little four-year-old asks his mother why her and daddy 'talked about the divorce'.
He gave me a blank stare and said nothing. And then, a sudden thought struck my mind.
He's gonna jump. Or fall. Or something. He's gonna throw himself off this very staircase. At least, that's what he would have done if I wasn't here.
I stood perfectly still, as if, me blocking the way of his death-fall was helping. That feeling thankfully passed as he sat down on the top stair.
"Mikes, what's wrong?" I asked, slowly walking up the remainder of steps.
I sat beside him as he turned his head towards the wall, acting as if he could hide from me. I put my hand on his shoulder in the most comforting way possible. There was something about him that made him seem so enraged. Like a tornado was tearing through his insides. He violently shrugged off my hand and scooted a couple inches away from me.
It made me frown.
How he didn't want to tell me anything. Part of me just didn't want to know, but that's not a best friends job. You sit and listen no matter what. I made another attempt at getting him to look at me and this time it worked. Mikey looked over at me with glassy eyes.
"She-she-she left." He stuttered, and threw his head into his hands.
I automatically knew who 'she' was, but I asked anyways. It seemed so unreal, I had to actually hear it from his own mouth.
"Who left?" I said, putting my arm around him.
Water Works!
"Darcy! Her, she, with. I can't believe she'd d-do this t-to me!" He sobbed into my shoulder.
"Mikey! You can't just go around and cut yourself up over her!" I cried, trying to act as sympathetic as I could.
"I'm not," He said bluntly, staring wide-eyed at me, "I'm doing it for Gerard."
Someone would have to be more than blind to not notice how puzzled I was.
"It's for Gerard??" I lingered over the words, repeating them over in my mind. "What's he got to do with this?"
I would have bet all my life's savings that his eyes turned, no, fucking glowed red. They narrowed to slits as well and he began pressing his fingernails into the palms of his hands. He didn't need to tell me what Gerard had to do with it.
"Fucking betrayer." he mumbled with something of a higher level than rage.
"Oh god Mikey," I whispered, hugging him tighter. "I'm so sorry. I'm just glad you're okay."
Bad move.
"Okay?! Does it look like I'm okay?!" He yelled and squirmed away from my grasp. "And Gerard's the one whose going to be sorry when he comes home."
He cracked his knuckles and I could hear him wince in pain.
Must have been some pretty serious cuts to make his knuckles hurt like that. I thought to myself.
"Mikey, I-I." I faltered, leaning my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his stomach.
I don't think what happened next was done out of pity. Or sympathy, comfort, or worry. We both sat there and rocked back and forth. Before I knew it, I was planting small kisses along the side of his face. Cutting in every now and then with the occasional "It's gonna be okay." or "We're gonna get through this."
No, I felt something more. Like an actual need for him. I pressed my hand into his. He looked at me with a soft face. No harsh looks or tearful eyes. Just a soft natural look.
And my lips managed to find his quite well.
I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, making him relax a bit and almost moan into my mouth. He split apart his lips and let me enter. Our tongues attacked each other like some Trojan War. Everything to be slipping away, even as he placed his free hand on my shoulder, then down my back and steadied himself there. This new comfort entertained him and he deepened the kiss. I moved closer and it felt like he was shoving his tongue down my throat. I barely noticed it though.
In fact, I was enjoying it.
He broke away and looked at me with that shy Mikey smile. Removing his hand from my back, he cupped my face lightly.
"Frank..." He started.
I pushed my finger to his lips and shushed him. A huge grin replaced my finger.
"Cheesy move." he retorted, making me chuckle.
Our hands were still in tact, even as we began to stand up.
"Come on." I tugged at his shirt.
"Where-?" He started to ask.
I wasn't listening and started pulling him down the stairs.
"Off the staircase, silly." I giggled, continuing to pull him.
He finally gave in, shaking his head in the progress.
"Woo! Time for the festival!" I shouted, skipping the last three steps and landing cat-like on my feet.
Mikey did the same, laughing the whole time. We rejoined hands and began walking out the door.
"Love you, Frank." he said rather sweetly, kissing my cheek affectionately.
I ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug.
"Love you too kid."