Kill Your Darlings

"But... Mikey isn't here," Pete argued. "He's dead."

"Pete, I pulled up some of Mikey's information while the warrant was pending," Gabe said. "The body went missing seemingly minutes after he passed. I would like to know how you're involved."

"I'm-I'm not involved!" Pete cried. "God, Mikey is dead and, even though he was a horrible person, it broke my damn heart! How can I fake that speech?"

"I hate to turn into a cliche, but we can do this the easy way— you show me Mikey, and get off with only with being an accomplice— or the hard way— I take you to the station, test you for remnants of Mikey's DNA, whether that be blood, saliva, or semen, and determine the rest from the results of the test. What do you say?"

"How about you believe me?" Pete begged. "Please, I am not lying! I promise you, it's just me and James, and I would actually prefer it if you leave my house."

"I won't leave until I find what I came looking for," Gabe said and Pete deflated, realizing he was fighting a losing battle.

"Okay, fine," Pete whispered. "I didn't know that he was alive until last night, and I was so frightened that I was considering killing him. He calmed me down and..."

"'And' what?"

Pete avoided Gabe's eyes as he quietly said: "If you were to test me for his DNA, I would test positive for his semen."

Gabe said nothing for a while. Finally, he sighed and said: "I'm sorry, Pete, but I have to do this. Bring him out, please."

Pete bit his bottom lip and made his way down the hallway, opening the door. "Mikey..." He said quietly, making the man sit up in the bed. "He's looking for you."

"What?" Mikey asked. Pete leaned over him, lightly kissing his forehead, before finding a pair of pants for Mikey. "But... What?"

"I love you so much, Mikey," Pete whispered. Mikey quietly got out of bed and pulled on the jeans, biting his lip to keep from crying.

"So, wait, hold on," Mikey said, stopping all movements. "You're just handing me over?"

"Mikey, I'm sorry, but..." Pete started, then stopped when he had nothing better to say. "But I have to."

"Why?" Mikey asked. "Why do you have to?"

"Because I'm sick and tired of running from the law!" Pete cried, forgetting about Gabe in the front room. He forgot about everything, except for Mikey. "I just want this to end! I want to forget that any of this happened, and I—"

"You? Pete, I'm the one who's gonna get the worst of it!" Mikey exclaimed. "I can't believe this. You're just handing me over to the police. This is bullshit."

"Mikey, stop," Pete said. "I'm doing this because—"

"Because you love me?" Mikey spat. "That's your reason for everything."

"Mikey, I do love you," Pete said, gently reaching forward and taking Mikey's hands in his. "I want what's best for us, but-but hiding and running away isn't what's best. Is that what you want?"

"If it means I get to stay with you, then it is," Mikey said. He pulled his hands away from Pete's, placing them on the sides of his face instead. "God... I don't want to leave you again." He leaned in and softly kissed Pete's lips, feeling Pete's breath hitch in his chest.

"Mikey, stop it," Pete muttered, pulling away. "I'm gonna cry."

"Maybe you should," Mikey said quietly, kissing the end of Pete's nose. "Then, Saporta may let me stay."
"Wishful thinking," Pete noted, looking down at his feet. When he finally looked back up, tears were welling up in his eyes, and he sniffled. "I want to stop running, but I'll lose you if I do."

"Keep running," Mikey insisted. "I'll get Gerard or Patrick or whoever you want to help you get out of here, and I'll find you. It may be within in the month, or it may be years from now, but I'll find you. I promise."
Pete nodded, kissing Mikey once more. "I love you, Mikey," he said against Mikey's lips. "To the moon and back."

"Well, that sucks, 'cause I love you to Mars and back."

"Stop trying to one-up me. I love you with everything that I am, and I thank every god that ever was, ever is, ever will be, that I moved in below you."

Mikey nodded in agreement and kissed Pete's closed eyelids, taking the tears lingering there with him. "I should get out there," he said finally, smiling as his voice cracked and all the tears he had been holding back flowed forward. "God, I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave you again. Those three months were the hardest three months I've ever experienced. I can't imagine years without you."

Pete wrapped his arms around Mikey's neck, lifting himself to Mikey's lips, turning his head and slowly claiming his lips. Those few seconds seemed to slow down, the moment where they would have to part being dreaded.

His heart wrenching in his chest, Mikey pulled his lips away from Pete's. He looked at Pete's face, perpetually tan, and memorized the way his dark eyes sparkled when they landed on Mikey. "Let's go," he whispered, slipping away from Pete and pulling on a pair of boots and his leather jacket.

The walk back to the living room was torturous, Mikey gripping Pete's hand tightly the whole time. "Mikey," Gabe said when he finally saw him. "I feel that I should let you know that there are television cameras downstairs, awaiting you."

"That's okay," Mikey whispered, wiping his face dry. "Don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Gabe shook his head, and his eyes landed on the two's hands, tightly clenched together. "Pete, you know that, if I didn't have to, I wouldn't be doing this... Right? It's obvious how much you love Mikey, and it breaks my heart to have to tear you apart again."

"I know," Pete whispered, his knuckles growing white as he gripped Mikey's hand even tighter.

Gabe approached the couple and carefully pried their hands apart, taking Mikey's and pulling them around to the front of him. "You have the right to remain silent," Gabe started, snapping the handcuffs around Mikey's wrists. "Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, you will be assigned one. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"I do."

The elevator ride to the lobby was mostly silent, interrupted only by Pete's sporadic sobs, which were muffled by Mikey's shoulder. "I'm not ready for this," he whimpered, holding Mikey tighter.

The bell dinged and the doors opened, showing a whole mess of people, most of them occupants of the building seeing what all the fuss was about. When their eyes landed on Mikey, they turned away, as if looking at him would curse them.

It was when they were out the door and Mikey was being led to a squad car that he snapped out of his blank state, and quickly whirled his head around. "Pete?" He called above the growing noise of the crowd. "Pete!"

Pete, from close to the building, heard his name being called, and he peeked his head up from looking at the dying, snow-covered grass. "Mikey?" He cried.

"I'm not ready," Mikey protested, trying to pull his hands out of the strong grip of the officer leading him to the car. "I-I haven't said goodbye yet." When he got no answer, he pulled harder and cried: "I have to say goodbye!"

Finally, the chain connecting the cuffs slipped out of grip, and Mikey flew to Pete, taking his face in his hands and kissing him deeply, remembering the way Pete tasted and how his mouth fit perfectly against Mikey's. Pete curled his fingers in Mikey's hair, pulling him closer, and Mikey captured Pete's bottom lip between his own. Both were crying, and they knew that all eyes were on them, even the ones that thought looking at the couple would curse them, but neither cared. The world dissolved, leaving only the two of them intact, and the moment seemed perfect.

But moments end.

All at once, rough hands gripped Mikey and pulled him away. "No!" He cried, trying in vain to escape once more, but it was no use. His grip on Pete grew stronger, and his eyes, the irises tinged slightly red, locked on Pete's. "Pete, I love you," he started, struggling against whoever was trying to take him away. "I want you to keep running. William won't find you, okay? I love you so much, Pete Wentz. Keep running."

"I will," Pete vowed. "I love you, Mikey Way."

Mikey took in a shuddering breath and let go of Pete, allowing himself to be dragged to back of the car. Pete's legs gave out from under him as he watched Mikey get pushed into the backseat, shooting a rueful glance at the officer pushing him in.

The car drove off, and the crowd dispersed, leaving Pete to sit blankly in the snow, absently watching a bit of icy road. He wasn't sure how long he was out there, but he knew that, eventually, someone draped a thick blanket around his shoulders. He looked up emotionlessly and saw Gerard standing there, an apologetic smile on his face. When he saw Pete's tear-stained face, though, the smile dropped and he carefully sat down next to Pete.

Pete could still feel Mikey's lips on his own and his hands on his face, the way that his calloused fingers worked against the skin of his cheek forever imprinted in his mind. Mikey's last words rang out in Pete's head on a constant loop, and Pete began to cry once more.

It was then that Pete realized how important words were. As a writer, he already knew this, but he saw it in action just then. When he was younger, he never understood what people meant when they said that he had an eloquence with words, and, as his vocabulary grew, he understood what those words meant. He could never see it in himself, though, the way with words that every composition teacher said that he had. But that cold February morning brought about a whole new meaning of the phrase: Pete Wentz truly did have a Way with words.

Notes

This, sadly, is the last chapter. There will be an epilogue uploaded promptly, and I cried while writing it. Thank you all so much for staying with this fic, and hopefully some of my other fics will be read as well.

xoKristin