Under the willow tree...(edited)

Mikey Way loved his dad, but he was becoming increasingly aware that the man was quite possibly insane. He had followed his dad's orders for so long that he almost did it blindly now...but this order was maybe taking it a little bit too far.

Terry had ordered his doting son to bring Gerard home, even if it meant killing Frankie and his mum to get him. Too far?...Mikey thought so...so he'd decided that he'd knock them out, then take his little brother home...that wasn't crossing the line...right?

Mikey slipped into Linda's room first and crept silently up to her bedside. He withdrew the chloroform soaked cloth from his pocket, that he had acquired from "a friend", and placed it firmly over her mouth and nose. He watched as her eyes flashed open and she struggled for a moment, then her eyes rolled back and she slipped into unconsciousness. One down, two to go.

Next he headed toward Frankie's room. The door squeaked slightly as he pushed it open and Mikey froze, listening for any change in the sleeping pair's breathing patterns...nothing. They slept on.

Mikey could feel his heart racing in his chest...he knew this was wrong and that if he was caught he was probably gonna end up in juvie...but what dad wanted, dad got.

In the dim light of the bedroom, Mikey could see the two boys. They were curled up together under the blankets, Frankie wrapped protectively around the younger boy, his face pressed against the top of Gerard's head as the younger clung to the front of his top.

Mikey took a deep steadying breath...then stepped forward and shoved the cloth over Frankie's face.

Frankie jolted awake, flailing his arms toward his attacker, but Mikey held on tight as the smaller male's struggles weakened, then ceased altogether. Of course this woke up Gerard, and Mikey was faced with a screaming, thrashing boy to deal with. He tried to get close enough to use the cloth on him too, but Gerard's desperately flying arms and legs as he backed away, falling off the far edge of the bed and scrambling across the floor toward the corner of the room, made it damn near impossible to get within reach.

Mikey thought about trying to talk him down...but he was pretty sure that wouldn't work.

Taking his own life into his hands, Mikey threw himself at the terrified boy, receiving a fist to the ear and a foot to his unmentionables before managing to stuff the damp rag into Gerard's screaming mouth and thump him heavily in the gut, causing the panicked younger boy to double over, sucking in great lungfuls of chloroform laced air and shudder violently before collapsing in a heap on the floor.

Mikey sat back, breathing deeply and holding his bruised balls with one hand, while he pulled his cellphone from his pocket with the other. Pushing the button for speed-dial 1, Mikey put the phone to his ear, (not the one Gerard smacked him in), and listened to it ring, just once.

"You got him?"

Terry's gruff voice sounded down the line. Mikey considered lying for a moment and saying that he'd failed in his mission...but he knew if he did that, then he would just be punished in Gerard's place, and he didn't think he could handle that.

"Yes dad..."

He mumbled.

"Are you out front?"

Terry grunted.

"Yup...bring him out."

Then he hung up. Mikey sighed and slipped the phone back in his pocket before standing up and reaching down to hoist Gerard up over his shoulder. Turning around, he wasn't expecting who he saw standing before him.

"What the Hell are you doing here?"

"Unfinished business..."

Bert muttered.

"I can see we both had the same idea."

He nodded toward the unconscious boy, drooling slightly down the back of Mikey's shirt. Mikey frowned.

"You were gonna take him?..."

Bert nodded silently as he leaned against the doorframe, hands buried in his hoodie pockets.

"And what were you gonna do to him?"

"Probably the same thing y' dad plans on doin'..."

Bert smirked, seeing the shocked look on the older Way brother's face.

"Oh yeah..."

He murmured.

"I know about that..GeeGee cried to me when we were first together...your dad's a sick fuck, ya know that, right?"

Mikey laughed nervously.

"But you just said..."

"Oh, I know..."

Bert interrupted.

"I said I was gonna do the same...y' know, I never said that I wasn't a sick fuck too."

He shook his head and chuckled darkly. Mikey's phone buzzed in his pocket. Probably his dad, wondering what was taking so long. Mikey shifted the boy's dead weight slightly, though he realised now just how little Gerard actually weighed.

"My dad's right outside, ya know..."

Bert shrugged, unconcerned.

"I can't let you take him...it's more than my life's worth."

A nasty grin spread across the older man's face.

"Who said you have a choice?"

Time seemed to stand still in that dark, quiet bedroom and then....Bert was across the room in seconds, fist striking Mikey's face with violent force. Gee's unconscious body hit the floor with a thud as he rolled from Mikey's shoulder and Bert and Mikey lay into each other, punching and kicking for all they were worth...

When the fight was over, and the victor stood shakily to his feet, blood dripping from his nose, it suddenly came to his attention that the object of their fight, was no longer in the room...and neither was Frankie. Where the fuck did they go now?

Frankie felt like he was walking through fog...his vision and hearing muffled with cotton wool white noise. It must be a dream. It couldn't be real.

There were thumps and bangs, and fuzzy distorted voices. There was a figure on the ground, a small slumped body that Frank thought he should know, but his brain was like a computer that wouldn't load properly. A tiny voice in the back of his mind said that this person was important...and that they were in trouble.

Frankie rolled off the edge of the bed, his cheek hitting the corner of the bedside cabinet on the way down...the sharp pain shocked his numb brain into gear.

That was Gerard over there!...his Gee!...and he was hurt!...and there were other people here, dangerous people that meant to harm him. Frankie couldn't focus on them...only on Gee.

Crawling on his belly across the carpet, Frankie made his way to Gerard's side. Eyes still unfocused, he pulled the younger boy into his arms. Gerard's body hung limp against his chest, but Frankie couldn't remember why that was bad...he knew something was wrong, just not what it was.

Frankie crawled toward his wardrobe, dragging Gerard's floppy form behind him. They had to hide. They weren't safe...or were they playing a game? Frankie couldn't think straight...everything was jumbled and his mind was spinning and turning and floundering stupidly.

Dragging Gerard into the closet after him, Frankie pulled the door closed and huddled in the dark. Gerard stirred slightly as Frankie drew him in close, needing to feel him warm and safe in his arms.

The sounds of battle died outside the tiny dark cave as the two boys, one curled protectively around the other, who continued to sleep, waited for whatever would happen next. Was Gerard asleep?...Frankie couldn't remember. Was there something wrong? Was he forgetting something important?

A voice from outside. Scratchy and rough, and a tone of anger...frustration. Who?

Frankie's doped mind couldn't tell what was being said, and was too lost to care. He'd rescued Gerard from danger and now he could rest. Closing bloodshot eyes, Frankie slipped back into blissful unconsciousness, the small boy in his arms slept through it all.

Bert stood confused in the middle of the dark room. They couldn't have just vanished...they had to be here somewhere. Looking down at the unconscious body of Mikey Way, Bert grinned...oh well, if he couldn't have one brother, he'd just make do with the other.

Picking the limp boy up and throwing him over his shoulder, Bert didn't hear the tiny cough that came from the wardrobe to his right, and quickly left the room, walked down the stairs then through the kitchen and out the back door.

Plans change, he figured, and he'd make the most of what he'd got. Laughing quietly, he disappeared into the night.

Back in the bedroom, Frankie's eyes were fluttering open but he couldn't for the life of hi, work out where the Hell he was...or what on Earth was happening.

"Gee?..."

He croaked out, his throat feeling rough and dry.

"Baby, wake up..."

Gerard remained stubbornly silent and still. Tears slid down Frankie's cheeks.

"Gee...please?"

"F..Frankie?"

Gerard's tiny weak voice broke through the fog in Frankie's mind.

"Oh baby..."

Frankie breathed in relief.

"It's ok...it's over."

"Frankie?...where?"

Gerard whimpered quietly.

"We're in the closet."

Frankie murmured. Gerard's head turned slowly to look up at Frankie, his eyes wide and innocent.

"I don't th-think either one of us has b-been in the closet for years...do you?"

He joked, trying to keep a straight face. Frankie smirked at him.

"Smartass..."

He pressed a kiss to Gerard's temple.

"Come on, let's get outta here. I'm getting a cramp in my leg."

Pushing the door open with his foot, Frankie groaned as he moved and pain shot through his head.

"What the fuck?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, squeezing his eyes tight shut.

"Frankie?..."

Gerard sniffed, stroking Frankie's hair from his face with shaky fingers.

"You ok?"

Frankie panted slightly through the pain.

"I...I'm ok baby..."

He peeled his eyes open and looked at Gerard's worried face.

"Don't worry 'bout me."

Frankie crawled out of the tight space and stood up, reaching back in for Gerard's hand and helping him climb to his feet as his legs wobbled beneath him. Neither boy had all their balance right now and they leaned on each other as they staggered over to the bed and flopped down onto the comforter.

"What happened?"

Gerard whispered, his head pounding too.

"I don't know..."

Frankie replied, wrapping his arms around Gerard's thin body and hugging him close.

"I don't remember."

Gerard sobbed into Frankie's chest.

"I...I think..."

He shook fearfully in Frankie's arms.

"Mikey was h-here."

Frankie felt rage start to boil in his chest. That little weasel dared to come into his house?!...But there had to be more...cause they'd somehow ended up hiding in his closet, with heads full of cotton wool and razorblades and no clear memories of why.

Fuck!...why couldn't he remember?

"Frankie?...Gerard?..."

Linda's small voice came from outside the room. Frankie looked and saw his mother knelt on the floor, where she'd crawled through from her bedroom.

"Thank God you're ok."

She sat down where she was, too tired to move again.

"Mumma?...are you ok?"

Frankie wanted to go hug her, but he didn't have the energy. Linda nodded sleepily.

"Yeah. It was Mikey...wasn't it?"

Frankie decided then and there, that the next time he saw that guy, he was gonna knock him right into the middle of next week.

"I think so, yeah."

It still didn't all add up, but as the three of them were almost asleep right now, Frankie figured that his questions would just have to wait til the morning, and with Gerard already drifting off in his arms, Frankie laid himself and the younger boy back on the bed with a small "Omph" noise and closed his eyes.

They could work this all out tomorrow, after they'd had a good night sleep.

They didn't get a good night sleep cause less than ten minutes later, Terry was kicking in the front door and storming up the stairs. He'd been calling Mikey constantly since the boy never returned and he'd realised that something had gone wrong.

When he reached the landing and he saw that Linda bitch that he'd fought with before asleep on the floor, he smirked...at least Mikey had done something right.

Looking into the room that she was just outside of, he saw that little piece of shit that he'd come here for, curled up in the arms of another boy...presumably Frankie. Sneering at the sheer "gayness" of the scene, he stepped over the sleeping woman and walked over to the bed.

Grabbing Gerard by his arms, he hauled the unconscious boy up off the bed, pausing slightly as both the boy in his arms and Frankie whimpered and tried to hold on...they didn't however wake up, and Terry slung Gerard's limp body over his shoulder and quickly left the room.

As he headed toward the stairs, a small voice from behind him made him stop and turn.

"Please don't?"

The other boy, Frankie, was on his knees in the doorway, staring at him with desolate, tear-filled eyes. Terry grunted at him.

"He's mine, and you're never gonna see him again."

With that, he turned and walked away leaving Frankie to cry and scream behind him. Terry didn't look back.

Notes