Was sitting across from my brother at Starbucks at ten in the morning on a beautiful Saturday in May really the way I should talk to him about something this important? According to Frank, yeah, it was. It seemed a little cruel to me to talk to Mikey about something as severe as his second attempt at suicide in a public place, where people might just 'accidentally' overhear us talking. I didn't want my brother to be humiliated or embarrassed. Fuck, that was the very last thing that I wanted.

Ever since Mikey's first suicide attempt, things have been really strained between the two of us. He was always in his room, either playing his bass or just sitting and staring out the window. He didn't each much at all, and he was getting really skinny. I mean, he was thin before, but when I can see his ribs when he's shirtless, I have a problem with that. The only thing the kid drank was either coffee or, well, um...coffee. Mikey's fainted three times now thanks to dehydration, and we've spent countless hours at the hospital getting tests done on him. He's made it very clear that he doesn't want my help, or anyone's help, for that matter, but when my little brother is in enough pain to try to end his life twice, I know that it's my turn to step in for real.

I reached across the table we were sitting at and lightly tapped the back of his hand, pulling Mikey out of wherever it is he goes when he zones out. He barely even looked up at me, like he was ashamed to see me because of the circumstances. If he was, I then I understood. No one wants to be at Starbucks at ten in the morning on a beautiful Saturday in May to talk about why they slit both their wrists with a kitchen knife at two in the morning the day before.

“Mikey,” I called quietly to him, hoping to keep his attention for longer than fifteen seconds. My aspirations didn't seem too helpful, however, when he barely pays me any attention before zoning out again.

"Mikey," I called, a little bit louder and more sharply. He jumped slightly, looking at me with a slightly annoyed and almost impatient look in his hazel eyes.

I looked at him quizzically before continuing with what I was going to say. "Mikes...you know why I wanted to talk to you, right?"

Mikey was silent, and I noticed that he kept his arms out of my sight by fiddling with his thumbs under the table we were sitting at. He seemed very uncomfortable, almost as if he was ashamed by what he had done. Did I suspect that that would happen? Fuck yeah, I did. I mean, no normal person just talks about their attempt at suicide with their older brother, and I don't think anyone would want to talk about it the second time around.

I was just so fucking glad that the second time wasn't the charm like Mikey had always said.

"You'll see, Gerard. It'll work the second time...I just know it will."

I shuddered as I remembered the last time Mikey and I had talked about this subject. He had sounded so serious, yet so innocent at the same time. It terrified me, thinking that Mikey was going to try this again.

And fuck, he had tried it again. When I had found him, he was on the ground in his bathroom in a puddle of his own blood, all of it coming from cuts on his thighs, wrists, and shoulders. I didn't think that the scream that had left my mouth was human. Mikey wasn't unconcious when I had found him, which made me feel only slightly better. He was almost pissed when I had picked him up and forced him to let me stop the bleeding from his cuts. Thank god he hadn't swallowed any pills, because, even though I love my brother to death, I don't think I would've been able to stand seeing him getting taken to the psychiatric ward of the hospital after treatment. I wanted to be able to help my brother face to face, not through some fucked up hospital system.

"Mikey, please talk to me. I want to help you..." I said, my voice being strained beyond Mikey's capability of ignoring. He flinched, looking up at me with a look in his deep hazel eyes that I instantly interpreted as a cry for mercy. I knew that he hated it when I was upset, especially when it was thanks to him. I know, it kind of seemed like a dick move, but I needed to get Mikey on track with this. If I guilt tripped him enough, he just might be willing to listen to me, and, hopefully, talk to me.

"Stop, Gerard. I don't need help," Mikey mumbled, barely putting any energy into pronouncing his words. He tore his gaze away from mine and looked back down at his hands that lay folded in his lap.

"Bullshit, Mikey," I spat, a little more rudely than I originally intended. Mikey froze up for a moment, going completely rigid.

"Don't give me the whole, 'I don't need help because I want to be suicidal' gag. I know that that's bullshit and you know it, too!" I exclaimed. Thankfully, it was pretty busy at that time, so no one was paying attention to the two men sitting at a table and basically arguing over whether one of them was suicidal or not.

Mikey glared at me, biting his lip. "Stop pretending that you get me, Gerard. Sure, you were suicidal at one point, but fuck, you're over it now. What worked for you will never work for me! We may share the same family name, but as far as I'm concerned, that's the only thing that makes us have any similarities," he spat, slamming his hands down roughly on the surface of the table. His sweater sleeves were lifted up a bit with the force, briefly revealing his cruel handiwork.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I needed to keep half of my mind occupied with something that was off the topic we were discussing, or else I was afraid that I'd end up strangling Mikey right then and there. His words had definitely imprinted me, and not only did it sadden me to hear that Mikey didn't even really consider himself a part of the family anymore, it also made me mad. No progress was being made on this, and I was wearing myself thin with the effort I was putting into it that Mikey refused to return.

Mikey let out a frustrated sigh, rising abruptly to his feet. He shot me a dark glare, growling, "And don't you ever even think of 'helping' me again."

He kept his glare as he walked out of Starbucks with a very pissed vibe radiating off of him. I sighed heavily, putting my face in my hands as he left.

What the fuck am I going to do with you, Mikey?

Notes

Well, I updated. Finally :P
The chapters will be getting longer as the story goes on. Oh! Can I please get some feedback from you lovely people? I love hearing your opinions and suggestions. Thanks for reading! I'll try to update again on the weekend.