I.

Donna was exasperated. She had tried everything to get this damn baby to walk. What was she going to do? Put him on a leash and start pulling him hard enough to get him to get on his feet?

Every time she could get Mikey to stand, he’d simply fall back down again.

Mikey loved crawling. He was a fairly fast crawler, sure. He even kept up with his older brother, Gerard, as he walked all over the house. Mikey was content with crawling and whenever anyone tried to give him lessons on walking, he would throw a small tantrum.

Gerard, however, did not share his brothers distaste for progress. Gerard was a bit chunky for his age, but he still seemed to have quite a bit of energy. Unfortunately, they lived in a dangerous neighborhood, so Donna could not allow him to stroll down the street, even in broad daylight. And so, Gerard was often confined to the small patch of grass that was their fenced up backyard.

She was surprised when one day, she looked down from an upstairs window and saw Gerard moving around very quickly in the yard.

It took her a moment to realize that he was actually running. Gerard was running laps around their swing set, chasing what looked to be a very frightened squirrel. She nearly dropped the mug in her hand as she ran herself to get the video camera.

“Look!” she had yelled at Donald, her husband.

Donald was carrying a restless Mikey in his arms. He had been crying about the absence of his elder brother that had only started about ten minutes ago. Donald took Mikey with him as he joined Donna in video taping Gerard’s feat.

Mikey made noises of happiness at the sight of his sibling, but quickly became confused by Gerard’s fast movement. He began to cry again.

Donald placed him down on the grass.

“See? Gerards running. Do you want to run to?” his father asked.

Evidently, yes he did.

With some evident struggle, Mikey used his knees to stand. He paid no mind to his parents gasps and screams of excitement as he took a step forward.

His eyes were only focused on the prancing boy ahead of him. He was focused on the fact that his brother was moving too fast, and that he couldn’t very well catch up to him by crawling.

So instead, Mikey learned to walk.

II.

“What the hell do you mean you’re dropping out?”

Mikey shifted nervously. He had sat his parents on the living room couch in order to give them “the talk”. His grandmother Elena sat in an armchair to his left. He looked at their stern gazes, none of the three faces smiling up at him. Next to him, Gerard stood. He wasn’t smiling either, but his eyes were encouraging. He knew how their parents would take the news more than anyone else. But he had insisted that he would stand with his little brother, as he had always done for him.

“I’ve dropped out of my classes to be in My Chemical Romance.” Mikey stated with as much confidence as he could muster, “With Gerard.”

Donna closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Donald shook his head. Elena, however, gave Mikey the smallest of nods.

“And what, exactly, are you going to do in My Chemical Romance?” asked Donald.

“I’m going t - to play the bass.” Mikey stammered.

“Mikey, with all due respect,” chimed in Donna, “Do you even know how to play the bass? I have never seen you pick up so much as a banjo.”

“I’ll teach him!” Gerard spoke then.

“You don’t know how to play the guitar either!” Donna snapped at Gerard.

“Well...we have friends that can teach him.” Gerard said more meekly.

“So let me get this straight.” Donald put out a hand to silence everyone. “You are BOTH throwing away any idea of trying to achieve steady jobs to go join a rock band with an obese lead singer and a bassist who doesn’t know how to play bass.”

Mikey felt his resolve diminishing. His father’s harsh words were bringing tears to his eyes. Of course, he understood their disappointment It had become clear for some time that Gerard wasn’t going to “blossom” any time soon, and he had begun to feel his parents hopes shift slowly to their youngest son. Mikey had been talking about a degree in economics, even though truthfully he had never been that certain it was what he wanted to do. But he knew his family had been excited for him, and he raised their hopes even more by getting fairly high marks.

But then he looked again at Gerard, and his resolved hardened almost instantly.

He knew he had to do this.

Because if he didn’t, Gerard would go off to recordings and tours and whole ‘nother worlds without him.

And he couldn’t bear the thought

“I’m going to do it.” Mikey repeated, his voice significantly louder than when he had spoken last. “I’m going to learn. And I believe in us. I believe in Gerard. I think he’ll lead us to something great. Don’t you believe in your own son?”

The was a pregnant pause before Elena replied with a smile.

“Of course I do.”, she said.

His parents remained silent. Mikey decided he didn’t want to be in this room much longer, and walked away. He stomped off towards the bedroom, his fists clenched at his sides. He tried to steady his breathing as he went, but his anger at their parents clear disapproval was rising. Behind him, he could hear Gerard shuffling his feet, following him.

Once they got in their room, Gerard spun Mikey around. He pulled him into a hug.

“It’ll be okay.” Gerard spoke into his ear. “I promise.”

Mikey nodded and embraced him back, letting the tears he was holding back fall into his brother’s greasy, long hair.

III.

“I call it, Danger Days!”

Gerard announced this with grandeur. He stood in front of his fellow band members, in his living room, next to a white board with several colorful sketches on it. Mikey, Frank, Ray, and Bob sat atop various furniture pieces, watching him. Their fearless leader now sported long, bright red locks of hair around his face. He had also lost a noticeable amount of weight since Mikey had last seen him.

The truth was that none of them had seen each other for a long time. This was their first meeting after the long break. The rigorous Black Parade tour had nearly brought their band to extinction. In fact, most of them had been under the impression that it had been the band’s end. Not that those words had ever been said, but it had merely seemed like an unspoken agreement. They had met up a few times after to begin recording another album as scheduled, but the attempt quickly fell apart. They had been just too tired of music, of pressure -- of each other. Gerard especially seemed to have entirely deflated, more interested in spending time with his pregnant wife than in the studio.

So it was quite the surprise to all of them when they had each received a phone call from a very jazzed Gerard, who claimed he had just had a wonderful idea.

“We’ll each have ray guns!” Gerard chriped excitedly, “And our own color schemes! And we’ll each have cool code names. I already named myself Party Poison!”

Mikey exchanged looks with Frank, Ray, and Bob. It didn’t take more than a second for him to read their expressions. None of them were smiling, and all bore looks of confusion and apprehension.

They all thought Gerard had lost it too.

It just so happened that it was then Gerard finally stopped to ask, grinning from ear to ear:

“So, what do you guys think?”

It was Frank who spoke first. Frank, who was always their most brutally honest member. But as he stood from the coffee table upon which he had been perched, even he looked hesitant to give his opinion.

“Um, how do I put this?” said Frank, his arms crossed. “This is just so...not us. We’re My Chemical Romance. We’re dark, angsty, emo, whatever the fuck you want to call it. We don’t do... colors.”

Ray did not speak, but he nodded in agreement.

Bob snickered, “To be honest with you G, I thought you were joking at first.”

The honest to god truth was, Mikey thought it was pretty stupid too. He really could not imagine himself running around with a ray gun, referring to Gerard as “Party Poison”, or anything of that sort. Plus, Frank was right -- it didn’t fit with the My Chemical Romance image at all. This would definitely alienate a lot of their fans, who were usually black-clad teenagers with heavy amounts of eyeliner covering their face.

But then, he looked at Gerard’s face. The smile that had looked so big it might rip apart his face was now gone. Frank and Ray were continuing to explain why this was a bad idea, and Gerard was looking more and more disappointed. His eyes became downcast, and it was remarkable how closely he resembled a kicked puppy.

Damn.

Mikey would have accused Gerard of doing it on purpose. But Mikey didn’t think Gerard knew what that look did to him. How it pulled at his heartstrings to see him so downtrodden.

Groaning inwardly, he stepped forward.

“I think its a great idea.” Mikey smiled at Gerard, and Gerard perked up instantly. The other boys snapped their gaze at him. Frank looked like he might murder him.

“I love it G!” Mikey lied, “I think we could really use the change of pace. I was tired of doing the same old, depressing stuff anyway.”

He came to stand next to Gerard and slapped a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it lightly. Gerard looked to him with an expression drenched in hope and optimism. He knew the other guys would hate him for this. If they had all been united against Gerard, they might have had a chance to throw the idea out. But whenever Gerard had at least one other members support, he always found the confidence to push his ideas more.

But Mikey didn’t mind.

He would always support Gerard’s “stupid” ideas.

As long as they made him happy.

A happy Gerard was a happy Mikey.

IV.

It was six months since the band’s break up. Mikey stood outside of the rehab facility, his heart pounding out of his chest. He could feel the sweat from his palm mingling with Gerard’s, who was gripping his right hand tightly.

“It’ll be okay.” Gerard assured him, “I promise.”

Mikey nodded.

Still he felt terrified. He had been struggling with his addictions for so long, he wasn’t sure who he would be when he came back out of this building. He wasn’t sure about anything.

The only thing he knew is that he had to try.

He had to try to defeat the monster in the closet, that has been trying to eat him alive for the past five or so years. It had been after him more persistently as of late, and if he didn’t seek help now, he feared he would lose his battle.

...But one thing gave him strength.

Towards the end of the band, he had thought Gerard was going to die.

He had dropped at least fifty pounds. He had relapsed into drinking, so heavily and quickly that he was blacking out every other night. He would get calls from Gerard at six in the morning, and he’d be crying hysterically, asking him if he could come pick him up, saying he didn’t know where he was or how he got there.

His big brother had just fallen apart.

And Mikey had been witness to the moment when Gerard realized what he had to do to save himself. He had suspected that the band had been getting to be too much for him for some time now. Despite his effort to revive the spirit of the band with Danger Days, it seemed he collapsed even harder than he had after Black Parade.

There was no new, fun ideas then. No brilliant schemes to make things work again.

The night Gerard had posted his letter to the public, and to their fans, he had sobbed in Mikey’s arms for hours. Mikey just sat with him on his bed, as he rubbed comforting circles on Gerard’s back.

He wanted to say something optimistic, but he could find no words. He knew nothing he would say would change the situation anyway. This was outright the hardest decision Gerard had ever made in his entire life.

And frankly, Mikey was feeling rather crushed about it too.

But in the weeks to follow, Gerard began going to therapy sessions instead of band practices. He started seeing doctors and taking medications to stomp out the alcohol cravings. And while he did not get sober again in even close the amount of time he did the first time he broke free of addiction, Gerard had succeeded.

Mikey, however, had taken a downturn after the bands break up. With no album to concentrate on, and all the free time in the world, he loaded up on drugs like never before. At first, it had just been something to do. Just a little fun.

Then the next thing he knew, he was looking as skeletal as his brother did a few months back.

And so now, it was Mikey’s turn. Even though his brother’s actions may have been the trigger of his spiral, his addictions had always been an underlying issue. He never truly got better like Gerard had for some time. There were simply periods where his drug usage had been heavier than others. And although things had gotten severe after the break up, Gerard’s recent recovery gave him hope that he could do it too. After all, Gerard had always said that they were pretty much the same person -- only with the difference of extroversion and introversion.

“I’m sorry.” said Gerard, just before they went through the glass doors of the rehab center. “I’m sorry I put you through this. I mean I know what you’re going to say but really -- I just want you to know... I never thought it would affect you so badly. I can’t help but feel a little responsible, ya know? I don’t know that I would have done it if I had known the toll it would take. I never wanted to come out of addiction just to see you fall back into it. ”

His voice cracked at the last sentence. Mikey didn’t understand why Gerard was saying all this now. But he suspected it was something Gerard had been wanting to say for some time. Maybe Gerard was just as scared as he was. Maybe Gerard felt just as uncertain as Mikey did about the outcome of all this, and he just wanted to get that off his chest... Just in case.

Mikey didn’t look at Gerard as he responded. He only shrugged slightly and said, in a tone as casual as commenting on the weather:

“Better me than you.”

And with that, Mikey took his first step through the automated doors.

V.

A 75 year old Mikey walked through the white halls of the Sierra Madre nursing home. He passed many other elderly folk in wheelchairs or with nurses. It was a a place for people who could no longer care for themselves.

He found the room he was looking for, 7B. He opened the door.

Gerard was sitting in his rocking chair, the same place Mikey always found him every time he visited. His room was extremely bland, with nothing out of place. So opposite the rooms that Gerard had always built for himself. Even before the band he would decorate his walls with band posters and comic books and even some anime wall scrolls here and there. This room had not so much as a piece of dirt on the floor.

Mikey took the visiting chair from its corner and set it next to him. He sat down beside Gerard, and they both just stared at the wall based television in silence for a long while.

It was the same routine Mikey preformed every Sunday.

But this Sunday was a little different. This Sunday was special, although most the rest of the world either didn’t know that or have forgotten it.

He pulled out a card from a plastic bag he had brought in, a card. He handed it to Gerard.

“Happy birthday.” He told him, smiling.

Gerard took the card, but did not smile back. He only look confused. But he stared at the image on the card anyway. An image of Batman and Robin standing side by side covered its front. Mikey had had it specially made.

Of course, Gerard would not remember it was his birthday.

He didn’t even remember who Mikey was.

He barely remembered his own name.

Alzhiemer’s took his brother from him about three years ago. It had advanced rapidly and suddenly. Mikey had broken down the first time Gerard had asked him “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Still, despite the advice of damn near everyone they knew, Mikey had continued to visit Gerard every week, on the same day, at the same time. Even Bandit and Lindsey had long since moved on with their lives. He supposed he didn’t blame them. It was exasperating, continuing to see someone who didn’t even know who you were. Someone who would never appreciate the fact that you bothered to keep in touch.

But when Mikey watched the shallow breaths Gerard would take, or the glazed look in those hazel eyes that once held all the love and kindness in the world, he worried that Gerard might not have much longer. And he wanted to see his brother out until the very end.

He wanted to go with Gerard as far as he could, until his brother went to that place where Mikey could not follow him into.

At least, not for a few years.

But he took comfort in the fact that they would reunite one day again. Perhaps in one of the afterlives that Gerard used to dream up when they were children, speculating what heaven or hell must be like. And then he would find Gerard the same way he used to be -- the singer and the comic artist and the nerdy kid that he loved.

He stayed with Gerard a bit longer and they exchanged a few words. Mikey told him it was a great day outside. He told Gerard updates on some of their mutual friends, and some news of Bandit. Gerard never knew what he was talking about, but he could tell that Gerard was at least listening intently. Gerard was trying to understand.

After four or so hours, Mikey left. He wished Gerard another happy birthday, and gave him a small hug before he went.

Alone in his room, Gerard picked up the card again. The memory of who gave it to him was already fleeting.

He opened it.

In a tiny yet strangely familiar scrawl, the following words were written:

Happy birthday!

I miss my best friend.


END.

Notes