Gloves

"Why aren't they back yet?"
The undertone of panic in Mikey's normally monotoned voice roused Ray from his guitar -- an electric beauty with a longing to be on stage -- and earned a startled stare from Bob, who had been staring at the ceiling quietly, compulsory causing his thumb nail to become almost nothing. They glanced at Mikey, whose eyes gleamed frantically beneath his glasses.
Ray shook his head, hair bouncing lazily as he did. "I'm sure they're fine, Mikey; this is your brother we're talking about, after all," he assured.
Mikey, who was not at all assured, began pacing restlessly across the floor. "I know, but Gerard called me before they left, and that was two hours ago! They could be lying in a ditch somewhere, dead for all we know!" exclaimed the younger Way.
Bob snorted and drawled lazily, "Trust me, they aren't dead. If anything, Gerard killed someone and Frank is helping him hide the body."
"Maybe Gerard got caught and Frank's getting booked as an accomplice," added Ray enthusiastically, which was way too enthusiastic for Mikey at the moment.
Mikey groaned and sat again, letting his head fall with a thump against the table. "God, I hate you both," he sighed. "One hour. One more hour and then I'm calling the cops." He lifted his head, an alarmingly red mark on his forehead. "Deal?"
"Okay," Ray said. "One hour, and then we'll bother poor Billie Joe about nothing and call in the cavalry, only for Gerard to show up an hour later with Frank hanging off of his arm and looking pissed off at the world, as per usual."
Bob looked thoughtful for a moment. "If you get the cops for no reason, Gerard is going to kick your ass so hard," he said wisely to the ceiling, pulling a hacky-sack out of his ass (or he might as well have; who knows where that thing came from) and tossing it up.
"As long as he's alive," Mikey murmured, mostly to himself and the table.
He really was attached to his brother. They were best friends throughout their school years; when Mikey was struggling through his super awkward middle school phase and Gerard was bathing in self-loathing and general anger, they stuck by each other. Gerard protected him from bullies and Mikey protected his brother from the demons on his head in return, as well as comforting him when their father fell into a fit of rage. He just really did not want to let his brother get into trouble, even if the recluse was more likely to join the marching band than do so, no matter what his angry demeanor wanted them to think.
With another fatigued moan, Mikey pulled himself from the table and walked out of the room, calling a quick "Do not disturb!" over his shoulder and disappearing into his bedroom. He set his phone alarm (because who uses a real alarm clock anymore?) for an hour ahead and laid down, trying to push his worry from his mind and closing his eyes.
Yeah, good luck sleeping, Mikeyway.

Notes

Good luck sleeping, me. I shall never sleep.
I know, I know, it's short, but c'mon, the action needed to be postponed because I love cliffhangers. It kills you guys, brings suspense, and gives me time to come up with dialogue for the chapter that's not completely pulled from my ass. Like Bob's hacky-sack.
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-Stitches