Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The phone alarm rings through out the room, disrupting the ones quiet, almost peaceful atmosphere of the room.

"Morning already...?" Mikey Mumbled sleepily, rolling onto his side before grabbing his phone from the nightstand

6:30

A long tired sigh escape from his lips as he reluctantly sat up, his hair was the disheveled. his skin so pale he almost looked corpse like, his eyes were heavy with dark prominent circles beneath them. he hadn't had proper rest in days. how could he sleep peacefully knowing his big brother Gerard was slowly dying and there's nothing he could do about it?

Mikey reached for his glasses and slid them on before grudgingly climbing out of bed. He gathered his scattered school uniform from the messy floor along with whatever socks and underwear looked the least dirty.

Time seemed to blur after that by the time he was fully dressed. His backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, the sky outside had lightened to a dull grey. Minutes ticked by unnoticed as He moved on autopilot tying his shoes- shoving random homework assignments into his backpack-barely registering the quiet home of the dark gloomy house.

A small shape was curled up near the hallway wall. Gerard's furry, grey cat missy. The fluffy feline barley lifted its head when Mikey approached. Her blue eyes dull and heavy. She let out a low miserable sound that wasn't quite a meow, it sounded more like a sigh.

Mikey stopped in his tracks, staring at her for a moment longer than necessary. He knew that look by heart. He crouched down and reached his hand out, gently petting her soft fur. The cat slightly leaned into his touch, letting out a weak purr.

"I'm sorry Missy, I know you miss him.." he murmured softly.

The clock on the microwave blinked 6:58 when he stood back up

He adjusted the straps of his backpack and headed for the door. With a soft click it shut behind him. Outside, the morning air felt cold and thick, Mikey started to head to school without a glance back. The street stretching ahead of him in a long, empty line. Mikey could already tell this day was gonna be as dull as the others.

School felt more lively than usual. Laughter echoed through the halls, lockers slamming, voices bouncing off the walls. Mikey moved through the chaos like a ghost. Shoulders hunched, head held low, he kept his eyes on the floor, counting cracks in the worn out tiles, anything to distract himself from the envy he felt seeing all his classmates so cheerful while he was left to drown in his own sorrow.

Suddenly..a familiar voice catches his attention, making him stop dead in his tracks.

"Hey Mikey wait up!"

Mikey slowly turns around, a few steps behind him was frank with his usual stupid grin, the kind that usually meant trouble.

"Oh uhh hey frank" Mikey replied akwardly, clearly not expecting to see him " "I thought you were still suspended-"

"Frank shrugged "well they let me back in sadly, kinda sucks, I was quite enjoying my vacation." Mikey let's out a snort. "Also" frank added, eyeing up Mikeys tired, disheveled looks appearance "you look like absolute shit, did you get any sleep last night?"

"Wow thanks" Mikey scoffed "and barley. I haven't had good sleep in months."

"I can tell, you look like a fucking zombie, by the way..." Franks grin fades a bit, his voice lowering into that of a whisper. "How's gerard doing..?"

Mikey looked down at the floor, his chest tightening as if someone was trying to squeeze the air out of his lungs. "Terrible.." he mumbles "treatment has been harsh on his body, expensive too." He hesitated for a moment before adding "mom and dad can barley afford rent, much less his treatments, I've been having to work two jobs just to be able to afford them.."

Franks grin vanishes completely, Mikey continues, his voice now begining to crack as if he's seconds away from a breakdown. "After school I always go straight to work, I haven't had a day off in months..No matter how many hours I pick up or how hard I work it still isn't enough, I'm always one bill away from losing my brother forever.."

Frank slowly nods, a look of pity plastered onto his face "I'm so sorry man, I really am" he lets out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his head. "Hey, After your shift tonight..your gonna go see Gerard right?"

Mikey nods. "yeah, I always do"

Frank hesitates for a moment before continuing. "Tonight..could I come with you? It's been awhile since I've seen him."

"I don't know, I usually don't bring people with me.." Mikey begins to fidget with his tie nervously. "He doesn't look like his you last saw him, he looks really bad frank, like REALLY bad." Franks expression begins to falter as Mikey continues "some days he barley talks, on the worse ones he cries for hours because of how bad the pain is, it gets so bad to the point not even his pain killers will help, I don't think Gerard would want anyone to see him like this.."

"Mikey..you shouldn't get to decide that for him" frank replies, his voice low.

Mikey frowns deeply, he knows frank isn't gonna let this go, he's too stubborn for his own good. "But frank-"

"I'm serious Mikey!" Frank cuts in, his voice raised and filled with irritation "he's my friend and I should be able to see him before...before it's too late-"

"Don't say that!" Mikey snaps, making frank stiffen up, realizing the mistake he just made

"S-shit thats not what I meant I swear!-"

"It's exactly what you meant don't play dumb with me!" Mikey angrily cuts in, voice loud enough to catch a few glances down the hall. "Do you know how fucking awful it is listening to my own big brother sob every night because of his own damn body turning against him!? I already have to sit there and watch him fade more and more every day! I don't need you of all people reminding me I might lose my own brother!"

Franks mouth opens, then closes again, for once, he didn't try to joke his way out of an argument. "I'm sorry..I just wanna see my friend before anything happens.." he says quietly "I don't wanna find out one day Gerard passed, passed without ever hearing his friend say goodbye.."

Hearing that last comment stopped Mikey cold, he turns away, his breath heavy, anger and grief tangle together within his heart until he can't tell which one hurts worse. "Fine...you can come tonight, but if Gerard wants you to leave, then you'll leave, no questions, no arguing."

Frank nods with enthusiasm. "Of course! I'll be on my best behavior I promise!-" mid sentence the bell suddenly shrieks throughout the hallway, signaling class is about to begin. "Well, don't wanna be late for class, I'm already failing most of my classes." frank says with a slight chuckle, "text me when your shift ends"

Mikey nods "I will, see you later.." he then watches as frank I walks away, melting into the crowd of students rushing to their own classes. With a small sigh he adjusted his backpack before heading into the opposite direction towards his own class, heart heavy but steady enough to keep moving...for now.

Chapter Text

An aroma of coffee and grease stuck to Mikey like glue by the time he clocked out of the diner. His feet ached, his back throbbed, and his face felt sore from hours of forcing smiles at insufferable customers.

He untied his apron with sore fingers, hanging it up on a hook before grabbing his jacket from the backroom and exiting out of the backdoor of the diner.

Outside the sky had already darkened into deep blues and purples, streetlights flickering on one by one. Mikey stepped onto the curb, rubbing his tired eyes just as a familiar beat up car rolled to a stop Infront of him.

The driver's window rolls down, revealing frank.

"Get in, zombie." Frank playfully said, flashing Mikey a grin.

Without protest Mikey climbed into the passenger seat before shutting the door, inside it smelt strongly of alcohol and cheap cologne, a nauseating yet familiar smell.

"You look shittier then you did this morning." Frank points out as he pulled away from the curb.

"Today was busier then usual.." Mikey replied weakly, resting his head against the cold glass window.

Frank smirked. "I can tell, you look like a dying Victorian child."

Mikey let out a tired, breathless laugh despite himself "fuck you.."

"Can't say I'm wrong can you?" Frank teased, reaching over and flipping on the car radio, the song bullet with butterfly wings began to play. Without another word frank kept driving. The music filling the silence between them as the all too familiar hospital lights grew closer.

The car ride passed in a blur. by the time they pulled into the hospital the music has long since faded into silence. The building loomed ahead of them, Windows glowing harsh white light against the dark sky.

Mikey could feel his stomach twist into knots as he stepped out of the car. Inside the hospital the air smelled sharply of disinfectant.

A nurse at the front glanced up as the two boys approached her, her expression softened as Mikey told her his brothers name.

"Follow me dear.." she says softly.

Their footsteps echo through the quiet hallway as she leads them past closed doors and flickering monitors. Mikeys anxiety spiked with every step while frank remained unusually quiet, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

The nurse stepped Infront of a door near the end of the hallway. "He's been having a rough night" she warned quietly before opening it.

The room was dim, the hum of machines filling the atmosphere. In the center of the room laid Gerard. For a moment Mikey forgot how to breathe. He looked so small beneath the blankets. His frame was gaunt, skin pale and sickly looking. His lips were cracked, almost colorless. Tubes ran from his arms, wires taped against his chest. The steady beep of the heart monitor painfully loud in the silence. His breaths came out shallow and uneven.

Mikey could feel his heart start beating faster.

"He's been drifting in and out." The nurse softly says, adjusting a few machines before stepping out of the room, gently closing the door behind her.

Instinctively Mikey moved to the bedside, his throat tightens up instantly. God gerard looked so much worse up close. His face was drawn in an expression of pain, even in slumber he couldn't escape the agony.

Frank stood frozen nearby, his usual playful demeanor completely gone. He swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the bed. "Good lord.." he whispered.

Mikey reached out and gently took Gerard's hand, it felt colder then it should have been. "Hey..." He whispered, voice barley steady, "it's me.."

Gerard shifted weakly before his eyes fluttered open. Unfocused at first before slowly settling onto Mikeys face. "Mikey..?" He raised, his voice hoarse and weak like it hurt to just use it.

Mikey replied immediately "I'm here.."

Gerard's fingers twitched, barley strong enough to wrap around Mikeys. His gaze then drifted past Mikey and onto frank, his eyes squinting at him. "Frank?.."

Frank stepped forward. "Right here man, your still stuck with me."

Gerard huffed out something that might been a laugh, but ended up as a quiet cough. His face contorted into a pained expression. Mikey could feel his grip tighten on his hand before weakening once again.

Before either of them could speak, the door opened softly and a doctor entered the room, followed by the same nurse from earlier. The doctors expression was calm yet heavy, the kind of look that came with delivering bad news too often.

"Gerard, I'm doctor smith, how are you feeling? He asked, stepping closer to the bed.

"Like crap" Gerard mutters hoarsely.

The doctor nodded, clearly not surprised "makes sense"

Mikeys heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest as the doctor turned his attention to him.

"Your Gerard's brother right?"

Mikey nods "yup..I'm Mikey, Gerard's little brother"

"Well Mikey, I'm gonna be honest with you.." the doctors voice lowered. "The treatments aren't working the way we were hoping, Gerard's body isn't responding to them."

Mikey felt his stomach drop

"W-wait what the hell does that mean!?" Frank suddenly pipes up, distress audible in his voice.

"It means.." the doctor continued, choosing his words carefully. "that at this point, no treatment is gonna help, he's too far gone."

The words hit Mikey like a brick "h-how long does he have..?" Mikey asks, voice trembling.

"Weeks, possibly a few months left, nothing longer than that.."

Silence swallows the room. Mikey felt like his lungs were refusing to corporate, like his body had forgotten how to work completely.

Gerard was silent for a moment, then slowly he turned his head towards Mikey, his eyes were tired and glassy but painfully aware. "Hey.." he murmured. "It's ok.."

Mikeys vision blurred with tears "n-no it's not!" His voice broke "I can't lose you!"

Gerard gave his hand a weak squeeze. "Your gonna be ok Mikey..I promise" he reassured, though he knew deep down Mikey wasn't gonna be ok, this was all too much for him..

Frank turned away, jaw clenched, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

The doctor cleared his throat. "I'll give you guys some time alone.." he murmers, leading himself and the nurse out of the room. The door clicked shut behind the doctor, and the room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

Mikey stared at Gerard, at the shallow rise and fall of his chest, at the wires and tubes keeping him tethered to this world..for now.

Mikeys grip tightened on his brothers hand as the truth finally settled in, bitter and heavy. "I-i'm so sorry.." Mikey choked out, tears spilling down his face. "I tried so hard-i worked so hard yet I couldn't save you!" Tears continue to fall endlessly, his shoulders shaking as he bent forward, forehead pressed against the edge of the bed. His sobs were silent at first, like his body didn't know how to react, then they broke free, raw and uncontrollable.

Gerard shifted weakly, reaching his hand out to gently pat his little brothers head. "Hey.." he murmured "none of this is your fault.."

Frank stood frozen near the wall, his hands trembling, he turned away, breathing hard, trying to keep it together, only to fail miserably. Before he knew it fat tears were streaming down his face as small broken sobs escaped his throat.

"I-i'm sorry.." he sniffled, "t-this isn't fair..you don't deserve this.."

Hearing frank cry broke Mikey completely. He lets out a broken sob before leaning forward, pulling his brother into a tight embrace. He pressed his face into gerards shoulder, clinging to him like letting go meant losing him forever.

"I don't wanna do this without you.." Mikey sobbed

Gerard's arms were weak but he returned the hug as best as he could. Fingers curling into the back of his shirt "it's ok..I'm still here.."

Frank watched the scene go down from beside the bed, tears streaming freely down his face now. the machines continued their rhythmic beep, taunting Mikey with the reminder of Gerard's date. In that tight embrace underneath the harsh fluorescent lights, Mikey knew, no matter how much time they had left, it would never be enough for him.

Chapter Text

The days seem to merge together after that. School barely registered, work felt distant, Mikey moved through everything like a shell of himself, eating when reminded, sleeping in short, restless stretches, he spent most nights staring at the ceiling, crying silently to himself.

By Saturday he barely left his room.

He laid sprawled across his bed, curtains drawn tight, phone face down beside him. His chest felt hollow, like something viral had been scooped out and never replaced. Every thought circled back to the same thing..

"I'm gonna lose my brother forever.."

Suddenly a sharp knock rattles his door

"Mikey!" Franks voice calls out "open the damn door or else I'm breaking it down!"

Mikey let out a groan but eventually dragged himself out of bed and unlocked the door, I front of the doorway stood frank, car keys in hand.

"You look like hell." Frank states flatly. "Which is exactly why your coming with me!"

"I don't wanna go anywhere..." Mikey muttered.

"Too fucking bad." Frank grabs his wrist--not roughly, just firm enough to keep him moving. "You've been rotting here for days, do you really think Gerard would want this?!"

Mikey didn't have the energy to argue.

Later they ended up downtown, in a part of the city Mikey barley recognized, between a tattoo parlor and a record store sat a narrow shop with a neon sign.

THE VEIL BETWEEN
crystals. Relics. Readings.

A grin forms on Frank's face, sharp and excited. "This place opened up like a week ago, spooky as hell, figured you might like it"

"It looks... interesting I guess.." Mikey stated dully.

The bell above the door chimed as they stepped inside

The air was thick incense and something darker--old paper, dust, maybe smoke. Shelves lined the walls, crowded with jars of herbs, cracked mirrors, bone charms, and symbol Mikey didn't recognize. Candles flickered despite the lack of any draft.

Frank wandered off immediately, poking at some skull shaped trinkets.

Mikey drifted towards the back without thinking.

That's when he saw it.

A book sat alone in a glass cage. Larger than the others. It's cover dark and worn like it had been handled by too many hands. Strange symbols were carved into the leather, sched deep enough to catch the light, the longer Mikey stared, the more he felt his chest tighten.

He felt..pulled.

His fingers hovered over the glass. Something about the book felt wrong, heavy, old. Like it knew he was looking at it

A tag rested beneath it

GRIMOIRE-- DO NOT OPEN UNLESS YOU UNDERSTAND THE PRICE.

Mikey swallowed hard.

Behind him frank laughed at some odd looking animals in jars, but the sound felt distant, muffled, like it was coming from underwater. All Mikey could see was that book.

And for the first time in days, something stirred within his chest that wasn't grief. It was hope.

Dark, dangerous hope, but hope none the less.

Mikey didn't realize he was holding his breath until frank spoke up behind him, making him jump.

"You good dude?" Frank asks, peering over his shoulder "you look like you just saw the antichrist."

Mikey took in a deep breath and stepped back from the glass case. "It's...nothing, I'm fine."

Frank raised an eyebrow but didn't push it. He wandered back towards the counter. Already distracted by a rack of rings. Mikey hesitated only a moment longer before clearing his throat.

"H-how much for the book in the glass" Mikey asks the cashier. A lady with dark eyes and a too still posture.

Her gaze sharpened immediately.

"That one isn't for casual interest." The woman commented. "That book is cursed, all it attracts is evil.

Mikey's throat tightened

"I don't care." He sharply replies, surprising even himself. "I'll take it."

The woman studied him for a long moment. Her dark eyes searching his face as if she were weighing something far heavier than money. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable. Finally she let out a slow breath and reached beneath the counter for a brass key.

"Once it's yours, you can never get rid of it." The woman warns as she unlocks the case.

Glassdoor Creek open when she lifted the book out and place it on the counter Mikey felt a strange chill crawl up his spine, like static settling beneath his skin. The leather cover was rough beneath his finger tips, warm in a way that made his stomach twist.

Frank laundered over just in time to see Mikey pulling out his wallet. "Are you seriously buying that creepy ass demon book?" He asked, half amused. "Dude, that thing looks like it eats souls "

Mikey didn't answer

He paid quickly, sliding the book into his backpack the moment the transaction was finished as if hiding it would stop the uneasy feeling gnawing at his chest, the woman watched him the entire time, her expression unreadable.

"Careful what you let into this world.." she whispered softly.

Mikey nodded, a sense of dread creeping up his spine.

By the time Mikey got home, night had fully settled over the neighborhood. The house was quiet--too quiet. His parents were still at work, the silence pressed in on him the moment he shut his bedroom door.

He dropped his bag onto the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Staring at it for a long time.

Then slowly, he reached inside and pulled the book out

Up close, it was worse, heavier the symbols etched into the cover seem to twist longer he looked at them. Mikey hesitated only a moment before opening it.

The pages were yellow and brittle, filled with tight, unfamiliar script. Some passages were written neatly, others scrawled like the author had been in a rush, diagrams covers entire pages. Circles, sigils, distorted figures drawn with unsettling details.

I'm slipped by without Mikey noticing.

He turned page after page, his heart sinking deeper with every warning he read.

~all power demands payment~

~do not summon what you cannot banish~

~every deal ends with blood~

Then he turned another page and froze. At the top, written larger than the rest, were the words: SUMMONING OF THE CONTRACTOR.

Beneath it a name appeared again and again, carved so deeply into the page it nearly tore through the paper.

Ray..

But detailed illustration showed us all horn figure standing within a ritual circle, eyes burning like embers. At its feet knelt a human form, not in worship, but negotiation.

Mikeys breathing turned shallow as he read

~Ray is a demon bound by oath to bargain with mortals. He does not deceive. He does not give without cost. He trades in life, time, And suffering--he always collects.~

His hands began to shake...

~to summon him requires sacrifice~

The list beneath made his stomach drop.

~blood, freely given~
~an item of great personal value~
~and finally...a living offering~

Mikey stared at the words until they blurred together.

The doctors voice echoed in his head..

"Weeks... possibly a few months.."

He snapped the book shut, pressing it against his chest as if that could quiet the storm of thoughts racing through his mind..his heart pounded painfully, fear and desperation tangling together within his chest.

If this book was real..

If there was the smallest chance..

Slowly Mikey tightened his grip on the book..

He knew what must be done...for his brothers sake..

Chapter Text

Monday came too fast.

Mikey sat at his desk, shoulders hunched, the book hidden deep inside his backpack. He hadn't slept much--every time he closed his eyes, he saw the haunting illustration of that demon, the name echoed in his head over and over again.

Ray..

When the bell rang for lunch. Mikey didn't hesitate he found Frank by the lockers and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, pulling him towards the far end of the courtyard, away from most of the students.

"W-woah hey!" Frank protested, trying to pull away from him, but Mikey kept a firm grip on, dragging him away despite his protests.

When they finally reached the end of courtyard frank managed to push him away, a look of irritation now etched on his face.

"Dude! What is wrong with you!?" Frank asks irritatedly, eyeing him wearily.

Mikey glanced around once more, making sure nobody was nearby before slowly pulling the book from his bag.

"Franks eyebrows shot up" you actually brought that creepy ass prop to school?"

Mikey nodded "it's not just some creep prop, frank, this thing is real.."

He flipped through the pages carefully, showing frank diagrams, the warnings scrawled in the margins, the summoning circle etched in unsettling detail.

Frank shuddered at the sight "wow..creepy.."

"I know.. " Mikey responded quietly "that's the point.."

Frank swallowed harshly, unease gnawing at his stomach. "Mikey...what are you thinking?"

Before Mikey could answer a harsh laugh cut through the air

"Well look at this," a voice sneered. "The freak brought his little cult book to school."

Mikey stiffened at the painfully familiar voice.

One of his bullies, Jacob, stood a few feet away, one that's been tormenting him since freshman year. He was flanked by two others, eyes gleaming with that familiar cruel amusement. Before Mikey could react, Jacob steppes forward and shoved him hard on the shoulder, making him stumble back.

The book slipped through Mikeys hands, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

"Hey!-" frank snaps, stepping forward, but one of the others blocks his path.

Jacobs eyes flick downward as something slipped from Mikeys pocket and clicked softly on the ground.

"Hm?"

He bent down and picked it up, curiously studying it.

It was a small--a little unicorn charm. Warn smooth with age, paint chipped at the edges. The tiny chain dangled loosely from his fingers. Originally the charm was something Gerard gave to mikey as a joke, but eventually it evolved into a vital source of comfort for him, becoming a piece of his brother he could still hold onto when not with him.

Mikeys blood ran cold.

"Give that back asshole!" He demanded, voice sharp with panic as he tried snatching it away. "Don't touch it!"

"Jacob pushed him away before turning it over, snickering. "What is this? A unicorn" he laughed loudly. "God your such a fag!"

"Gerard gave it to me, put it down!" Mikey snaps back, his hands shaking now.

"Oh that Gerard?" The bully sneered. "The one that's wasting away?"

Frank stiffened at his words. "What the hell is wrong with you, jackass!-"

"Shut up!" He snapped back, not even bothering to look at him, his eyes stayed locked on Mikey. "Why not just let him die already? All he's doing at this point is wasting good air-"

Mikey lunged forward, but one of the others shoved him back.

Jacob grinned wider "somebody is upset~"

He closed his fist around the charm.

SNAP

The sound was clean, almost nothing.

The unicorn charm split into two.

Mikeys eyes went wide with pure horror, for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

The bully tossed the broken pieces at his feet. "Whoops~"

Then they turned and ran, laughter trailing behind them as they disappeared into the crowd.

Mikey stood still for a moment, then he dropped to his knees.

His hands trembled as he gathered the broken pieces of the unicorn. Clutching them tightly to his chest like they might somehow go back together if he held them tight enough. His vision blurred, tears spilling freely now, not loud, not dramatic, just raw and helpless.

Frank knelt beside him, voice shaking.. "Mikey, I'm so sorry.."

Mikey didn't respond.

The book laid nearby, fallen open, pages rustling softly in the breeze, his eyes drifted to the words he already knew by heart.

"A living offering.."

His grip tightened around the broken charm.

When he finally stood up, his face was streaked with tears, but his expression had gone frighteningly still.

He had found his sacrifice.

Chapter Text

Mikey stood in his bedroom long after the sun had gone down.

Mikey stood in his bedroom long after the sun had gone down.

The house was quiet—too quiet. His parents were still at the hospital. Gerard’s room down the hall sat dark and empty, just as it had for months.

He turned and quietly made his way downstairs. The kitchen light flicked on with a soft hum, illuminating empty counters and a sink full of dishes no one had the energy to wash anymore.

Mikey paused.

For a moment, his reflection stared back at him from the darkened window—pale, hollow-eyed, barely recognizable. He swallowed hard and opened one of the drawers.

Inside was an array of knives, but only one caught Mikey’s attention: a large chef’s knife, almost as long as his arm.

He hesitated, fingers hovering. Then, finally, he wrapped his hand around it and pulled it free. His grip tightened as he carefully slipped it into his backpack before opening another drawer. He grabbed a large black plastic trash bag and stuffed it into the bag as well.

“I’m doing this for you,” he whispered into the empty kitchen before finally slipping out the front door.

Outside, the night air was sharp and cold. Mikey pulled his hood up and started walking, hands buried deep in his pockets. Every streetlight buzzed overhead, every shadow stretching just a little too far. The broken unicorn charm tucked into one of his pockets brushed against his fingers—a small, cruel reminder of what had been taken from him.

The football field came into view, blazing beneath harsh white lights.

Cheers erupted from the stands as Mikey stopped near the fence, half-hidden from the crowd. The noise washed over him, but it felt distant, muffled—like he was underwater.

His eyes found the field.

There.

The bully laughed with his teammates, helmet tucked under his arm, face flushed with excitement and arrogance. He looked whole. Healthy. Full of life, the complete opposite of Gerard condition.

Something bitter twisted in Mikey’s chest—envy.

The game dragged on. The crowd roared and stomped and screamed, but Mikey stayed still, waiting for the moment the noise would finally die.

When the final whistle blew, students spilled from the stands in loud, buzzing clusters. Mikey didn’t move.

He waited.

Eventually, the lights dimmed. The crowd thinned. The bully peeled away from the others, phone in hand, laughing at something on the screen—alone.

Mikey followed.

The bully didn’t notice Mikey at first.

He was too busy laughing to himself, the glow of his phone lighting his face as he cut through the dim side path behind the field. The cheers from the stadium were distant now, muffled by the night air.

“Messy game, man,” the bully muttered to no one, kicking at a rock.

Mikey’s heart pounded so hard it hurt.

For a split second, doubt surged—hot and sharp—but then he felt the broken unicorn charm in his pocket, its snapped edges biting into his skin.

Gerard’s voice echoed in his head.
Then the doctor’s words followed.

Weeks. Maybe a couple months.

Slowly, Mikey unzipped his bag and took out the knife, the sharp object gleaming dangerously in the moonlight.

After what felt like an eternity of just… following, Mikey finally struck.

With a swift motion, he plunged the knife into the bully’s back. A dull thud echoed through the night as the body collapsed to the ground. A dark pool spread beneath him, forming around his now lifeless body.

Mikey froze for half a second, staring at the lifeless body, chest heaving.

He actually did it, he just put another person's life to an end.

"I'm sorry.." he whispered, though the night sky didn't answer.

Adrenaline carried him through the rest. He stuffed the bloodied corpse into the trash bag he brought before dragging it away from the field, muscles burning, every second felt like it stretched into eternity, no one luckily noticed, no one stopped him.

When he finally reached his house he wrestled the backdoor, then froze. Listening, silence, no movement upstairs, nobody was home.

Perfect.

He pulled the corpse inside and shut the door softly behind him.

The basement waited below, cold and dim. The air heavy with dust. Mikey maneuvered the corpse down the steps with shaking hands, every thud echoing too loudly in his ears, by the time he reached the bottom, his arms burned and his chest ached from breathing too hard.

He laid the body down in the center of the room.

For a long time Mikey just stood there, staring.

He was really doing this..

He wiped his blood stained hands on his hoodie and forced himself to move candles were placed were the book had instructed, symbols were drawn exactly as he remembered, imperfect but close enough that the air began to feel...wrong, too still..like the room itself was holding its breath.

Finally..When everything was ready, Mikey stepped back.

The book laid open in his hands, pages fluttering slightly though there was no breeze..

His voice trembled as he began to chant the first words.

Nothing happened...

Panic clawed at his throat, did he really just murder someone for no reason!?

Then the candles flickered.

The temperature dropped so suddenly Mikey gasped, breath fogging Infront of him, the symbols on the floor pulsed faintly, a dull glow spreading outward, pulsing like a heartbeat.

The corpse laid there, still motionless.

Mikeys hands shook as he continued, the words burning on his tongue like fire, scraping their way out of his throat. The lights overhead flickered once, twice, then...went out completely.

Darkness swallowed the basement.

A low sound filled the room

Not quite a voice, something between a breath and a growl.

The shadows along the wall began to stretch, peeling away and sliding across the floor towards the circle. The air grew thick, pressing down on Mikeys shoulders until his knees nearly buckled.

Then-

Eyes opened in the darkness.

Burning. Watching.

"Well.." a voice said smoothly, filling the room. "You finally decided to ask."

Mikey found himself completely frozen with terror.

The shadows gathered, rising, taking shape.

And the circle flared with blinding lights.

Chapter Text

**Chapter 6**

The light didn’t vanish all at once.

It dimmed slowly, like a dying star, until the basement was swallowed in shadow once more. Mikey froze where he stood, lungs burning as though he’d forgotten how to breathe. The circle beneath his feet pulsed faintly, a gentle heartbeat against the eerie quiet.

Then came the sound.

Not a voice.
Not footsteps.

A soft, crackling hum, like embers shifting in a dying fire.

Mikey flinched as thin seams of pale light began to form above the circle. Jagged at first, they smoothed out slowly, stretching downward, almost hesitant—like threads being unstitched from another world. The temperature dipped suddenly, sending a shiver along his spine, and then rose just as quickly, brushing his skin like a tentative caress.

Legs first.
Then hands.

The glow faded into intricate markings etched across his skin—symbols curling up his arms and along his neck, faintly warm, as if they remembered the light from which they had been born.

The figure straightened.

Young. About Mikey’s age. Lean beneath layers of ragged, carefully mended clothing, each tear and stitch hinting at centuries of wear. Dark brown curls fell loose around his face, catching the flickering candlelight in soft highlights—slightly tangled, impossibly human.

And then the horns.

Long. Elegant. Sweeping upward in impossible arcs, casting delicate shadows across the basement ceiling. They were ancient, commanding—yet somehow the figure didn’t fill the space with menace.

He blinked.

Once.
Twice.

“Oh,” he whispered.

Not sharp. Not cruel. Just surprised. Vulnerable, even.

He studied his own hands as though seeing them for the first time, flexing them slowly before finally lifting his gaze to Mikey. His confusion melted into something gentler, brighter—almost painfully hopeful.

“You’re still here,” he said quietly. His voice wasn’t commanding, wasn’t threatening. It was soft. Warm.
“You didn’t run.”

Mikey swallowed, heart hammering. He was terrified—terrified of what the demon might ask for, terrified that the cost would be unbearable.

And yet… he couldn’t look away.

Ray shifted slightly, cautious but curious, curls brushing his forehead. His markings pulsed faintly, reflecting the subtle excitement building inside him. There was something almost childlike in the way he studied Mikey—careful not to scare him, yet radiating an uncontainable energy.

“You… really called me,” Ray said, awe threading through each word.

Mikey’s hands trembled.
“Y-yeah,” he whispered. “I… I needed help.”

Ray’s smile was soft, hesitant, and utterly sincere. It wasn’t sharp or mocking. It was a smile that made Mikey’s chest ache in the best way possible. Ray’s shoulders lifted just slightly as the tension drained from him, the faint vibration of his markings mirroring the restrained joy spilling through him.

“I…” Mikey began, then faltered. His mouth felt dry. All at once, every horrific possibility flashed through his mind—years of life, fragments of his soul, something worse he couldn’t name. He swallowed hard, forcing the thoughts down.

“My brother,” he said, voice trembling, words spilling out in a rush. “His name is Gerard. He’s sick. The doctors said he doesn’t have long. I don’t care what the price is—I just… I want him to live. I want him to get better. Please.”

Ray’s expression shifted, just slightly—from gentle curiosity to deep, focused attention. When Mikey finished, he nodded slowly, curls bouncing softly with the motion.

“I can heal him,” Ray said carefully, voice low and measured.
“For a small price.”

Relief surged through Mikey, sharp and overwhelming—only to be swallowed almost immediately by fear. But no matter what it was, no matter the cost…

He would pay it.

“W-what… is it?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Ray hesitated, his gaze flicking down and his jaw tightening. Then, slowly, he lifted his eyes back to Mikey. Nervous and uncertain, a strange vulnerability appeared there that tugged at Mikey’s chest. Ray rocked back slightly on his heels, then forward again, as if measuring his words.

“I… I want…” Ray began, exhaling sharply. His markings glowed faintly, almost alive, responding to his emotion. “I want you.”
Mikey’s heart stuttered. Heat rose unbidden to his cheeks. Ray winced slightly at Mikey’s wide-eyed stare and quickly straightened. “I want you to… be with me. As my boyfriend. My partner.”

The world seemed to tilt.

“That’s… it?” Mikey asked, stunned, his voice barely audible.
Ray’s eyes flickered with hope. “Yes. I just… I just want someone who loves me, who won't abandon me… that's all.”

There was no threat and no cruelty. Mikey swallowed, his chest tight. Something warm and fragile settled there, quiet but steady. This wasn’t what he’d feared. Just… this. He studied Ray—really looked at him. He saw the hopeful tension in Ray's posture, his hands clasped together as if holding himself in place, and the faint glow of his markings pulsing with each breath.

“A-alright,” Mikey said, his voice soft but certain, “if that’s what it takes to save my brother…”

Ray froze for a heartbeat. Then his expression cracked open like a dam breaking. His eyes shone brighter than the faint glow of his markings, and before Mikey could react, Ray practically threw himself forward with his arms wide.
“I—I can’t believe it!” Ray’s voice broke, almost trembling. “You really accepted!”

Mikey stumbled back slightly, heart pounding. His hands rose instinctively, unsure at first—but he didn’t pull away. Ray pressed close, curls tumbling over his forehead and horns catching candlelight, every pulse of his markings radiating uncontained joy.

“I’ve waited so long…” Ray whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ve been so lonely…” His hands brushed against Mikey’s arms, tentative, then gripping gently, as if anchoring himself to the reality that this was real. “I… I thought I’d never feel this… never have someone… and now… now you’re here. I have you now!”
Tears pricked at his eyes. Centuries of isolation and emptiness poured out in raw, trembling words. His laugh was soft, breathless, and almost desperate as he pressed close to Mikey, and yet it was entirely innocent.

Mikey’s chest thudded violently. His arms went up instinctively, then relaxed, allowing the warmth of Ray’s presence to settle around him. The air between them crackled—not with danger, but with emotion. Ray pulled back just enough to look at Mikey, his eyes shimmering and lips trembling in disbelief.

“You… Do you really mean it? You’ll stay with me?”

“I do,” Mikey said, his voice steady, soft but unwavering.
Ray’s grin broke fully, radiant and unrestrained, like sunlight spilling into a dark room. “Finally!” he exclaimed, stepping closer again and pressing his forehead lightly to Mikey’s. “Finally, someone chooses me… finally, I’m not alone anymore!”

Mikey’s breath hitched. Seeing an all-powerful demon like this—so vulnerable and so overwhelmingly joyful—made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t expected. And somehow, for the first time in days, the fear, the grief, and the weight of the world felt lighter. Just a little.

A fragile thread of hope flickered between them, pulsing in time with the markings, with the circle, and with the quiet heartbeat of two souls meeting, for the first time, in understanding and trust.

Chapter Text

Mikey didn’t speak much as he led Ray up the stairs.

Ray’s hand was wrapped tightly around his fingers, warm—unnaturally warm. Not burning, not painful, just wrong enough to be noticeable. His grip was firm and insistent, as though letting go wasn’t an option.

Mikey felt it tug at his chest, a strange mix of comfort and weight settling there—like being trusted with something fragile and immense all at once.

“Just… follow me,” Mikey murmured, keeping his voice low.

Ray hummed softly in response. His eyes flicked around constantly, taking in every detail of the house—the walls, the furniture, the quiet clutter of daily life left behind. Each step seemed to fill him with wonder.

“All… this is yours?” he asked, voice soft with awe. “Even… this small… house?”

Mikey nodded. “Technically my parents, but yeah…”

Ray’s hand never left his. Every so often, he glanced up at Mikey, studying him with open curiosity, as though trying to memorize the slope of his shoulders, the set of his mouth, the way he moved through familiar space.

They reached Mikey’s room. Mikey pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting Ray enter first. The room was small and dimly lit, with posters peeling at the edges and clothes sitting in uneven piles.

“Here…” Mikey said, pulling open his closet. “I’ll get you some proper clothes, something more comfy than those rags.”

Ray stepped inside slowly, his eyes lighting up as he scanned the room with rapt attention, as if every object carried a specific meaning. He crouched slightly when he spotted a guitar lying in the corner of the room, his fingers trailing gently over the edge of it. He was reverent and careful, as if afraid it might break under his touch.

“You… play this?” he asked, tilting his head with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” Mikey replied softly, reaching for a few shirts. “Its pretty old, but it plays well.”

Ray straightened, then crouched again, eyes darting around. His attention landed on a small shelf stacked with comic books, framed photos, and a messy pile of notebooks. He picked up one of the frames carefully, tilting it toward the light.

“This… person… is he your brother?”

Mikey nodded, a tight knot forming in his throat. “Yeah… that’s Gerard.”

Ray turned the photo slowly in his hands, committing every detail to memory. “Is He… important to you?”

“Very,” Mikey responded quietly.

Ray set the photo back with deliberate care, his fingers lingering on the frame as if he were reluctant to let go. His gaze shifted again, stopping abruptly when he noticed a small grey shape at the foot of the bed.

Missy padded softly into the room, her tail high and ears alert.

Ray froze. “What… is that?” he whispered curiously, crouching lower.

“That’s Missy,” Mikey said quietly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She’s Gerard’s cat.”

Ray blinked, transfixed. He slowly held out his hand, letting her sniff him. Missy purred immediately, brushing against his fingers. Without hesitation, Ray scooped her up, cradling her carefully against his chest.

“Shes… soft…” he murmured, awe flooding his voice. Missy pressed into him, curling around his neck, purring loudly. Ray hugged her closer, as if he’d never known affection like this before.

“I… like her… very much,” he said softly.

Mikey smiled softly, reaching into the closet. “Im glad you two are getting along. Now lets get you some proper clothes.”

He handed Ray a soft hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Ray examined the fabric slowly before taking them. “These are mine now?” he asked, voice gentle but curious.

“Yeah,” Mikey said softly. “Try them on. They’ll be more comfortable than what you’re wearing now.”

Ray carefully put Missy down before changing. His eyes never stopped moving, curiosity endless, as if he couldn’t bear to miss a single detail. When he finished, Ray picked up the cat before he pressed Missy gently against his chest, stroking her fur as he turned to Mikey.

“I like this room,” he commented. “It feels safe..”

Mikey nodded, brushing a hand over the back of his neck, suddenly aware of Ray’s steady gaze. “Yeah… it’s… my space. Feels… peaceful, I guess.”

Ray tilted his head, studying him closely. “Do you... get lonely here?”

Mikey hesitated. The question landed harder than he expected. The room felt unbearably quiet.

“...Yeah I do,” he finally admitted, voice low. “Ever since Gerard got cancer, my parents have spent most of their time at work or the hospital. It’s been so lonely without them all..”

Ray was quiet for a moment. His markings pulsed faintly, a slow, sympathetic glow. “I know that feeling,” he murmured. “Being alone...”

Mikey exhaled shakily. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Feels like everything just... hollowed out. Like I’m only moving because I have to.”

Ray stepped closer without realizing it, Missy still cradled in one arm. He took Mikey in fully—the dark circles under his eyes, the tension in his posture, the way exhaustion clung to him.

“You seem tired,” Ray said softly.

Mikey huffed a weak laugh. “You have no idea...”

The room tilted. Mikey swayed, catching himself on the desk.

“Mikey?”

“I’m fine,” Mikey muttered—but his legs betrayed him. “Just... haven’t slept much.”

Ray moved instantly, setting Missy gently on the bed before grabbing Mikey, steadying him. “You are not fine,” Ray said firmly. “You are... burning out.”

Mikey tried to answer, but his words tangled. “I just… need a minute,” he mumbled, leaning forward without meaning to. His forehead brushed Ray’s shoulder.

“Mikey…?”

There was no answer. Mikey’s body slackened, exhaustion finally dragging him under. His breathing evened out, shallow but steady.

“Oh,” Ray breathed. Carefully, Ray lifted him into his arms; Mikey felt too light. “You push yourself too hard,” Ray murmured. “No one should carry this much alone.”

He laid Mikey on the bed, removed his shoes, and pulled the blanket around him. Ray sat at the bedside, watching him sleep. The room was quiet.

Ray hesitated. Slowly, carefully, he slipped his shoes off and eased into the bed beside him. One arm hovered, uncertain—then wrapped around Mikey’s waist. Mikey shifted instinctively, pressing closer, his breathing evening out further.

“Oh,” Ray whispered.

He adjusted the blanket over them both, curling around Mikey protectively. Missy climbed between them, settling against Mikey's chest.

“I won't leave you,” Ray murmured. “Not tonight. Not ever..”

His markings dimmed to a gentle glow as he rested his chin atop Mikey’s head. For the first time in a very long time, neither of them were alone.

Chapter Text

Mikey woke slowly, the morning light spilling softly through the blinds. The warmth of Ray curled against him lingered like a shield against the lingering heaviness of sleep. Missy was sprawled across his chest, purring rhythmically, as if nothing in the world could disturb this fragile moment of peace.

He stirred, blinking against the soft light, and reached instinctively for his phone on the nightstand. It buzzed—a single notification lighting up the screen. Something in his chest skipped a beat as he saw the caller ID: it was his mom.

Hands trembling slightly, Mikey swiped to answer.

"Hello?" he whispered, voice rough from sleep.

"Mikey!" His mom’s voice cracked with excitement. "I don’t know how to tell you this, but… Gerard’s tests came back, and… it’s incredible. The cancer—it’s… it’s gone. Completely. They don’t know how to explain it, but… he’s okay. He’s going to be okay!"

For a moment, Mikey didn’t move. He just listened, the words hovering in the air like fragile glass. His chest felt like it might burst—not with pain, but with relief so sharp it almost hurt.

"G… Gerard?" Mikey croaked, voice catching. "He… really…?"

"Yes!" His mom laughed through tears. "He’s going to wake up soon. You can come in—he’s stable. He… he’s really okay, Mikey."

Mikey’s hands shook as he gripped the phone tighter. A sob threatened to escape, and he barely held it back. "Thank you… thank you… thank you," he whispered repeatedly, more to himself than to his mother.

When he hung up, the weight of the night before and the long weeks of fear finally drained from him, leaving him trembling with exhaustion and relief. He looked down at Ray, still asleep beside him, breathing steady, markings faintly glowing.

"Ray..." Mikey murmured, brushing a finger over the curve of his shoulder. "Ray... wake up... I... I have to tell you something."

Ray stirred slowly, one eye opening lazily, then fully, gaze soft and unfocused. "Mikey...?" His voice was still thick with sleep.

Mikey nodded vigorously, tears welling up in his eyes. "It's... it's Gerard... he's okay. He's really okay. The doctors... they don't know how, but... he's better. He's alive, Ray..."

Ray's hand tightened slightly around Mikey's shoulder, his markings glowing softly. "I know," he murmured gently. "I told you... he would be."

Mikey blinked, overwhelmed by the reality of it, and pressed both hands to Ray's chest. "I... I can't believe it... I thought I was going to lose him... and you... you made it possible. Ray, you saved him... you really did!"

Ray's gaze softened, but he didn't pull away. He let Mikey cling to him, feeling the weight of the boy's gratitude and relief pressing into every fiber of the morning. "Of course I did, it was part of our deal".

"I... I don't even know how to thank you enough," Mikey whispered, voice breaking. "I... I can't—there aren't words... You... you healed him. You... you actually saved my brother! Gerard... he's alive because of you. Because you cared enough to—"

Mikey's words tumbled over each other, tears streaming freely now. "I've never... never knew anyone... anyone who could do something like this. You gave me my brother back. My brother! And I—" He pressed his forehead to Ray's chest, sobbing quietly, "I love you. I love you for this. For... everything. I... I don't know how to even—"

Ray held him tighter, careful but unwavering, letting the boy pour everything out. "Shh... it's okay, Mikey," he murmured, voice calm but gentle. "You don't need to thank me..."

“But i do!” Mikey cried, shaking slightly. “It’s… it means so much to me! You… you actually fixed something that felt impossible! I… I’ll never stop thanking you, Ray. I… I just… Thank you. I don’t know how to show you enough… but thank you… thank you… thank you!”

Ray’s fingers traced lightly over Mikey’s back, grounding him, steadying him. “You really don’t have to,” he repeated softly. “seeing you… happy… that’s enough. That’s all I need.”

Mikey pulled back just slightly, eyes wide and shining. “No, Ray. It’s not enough! You… you saved my family. You gave me my brother back. You gave me… everything. I… I can’t—” His voice cracked again, but this time with joy, relief, and love all tangled together. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. I… I just… love you… so much.”

Ray’s horns glimmered faintly in the morning light, his markings pulsing softly as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Mikey’s head. “You don’t need to repay me,” he whispered.

Mikey’s sobs eased into quiet sniffles as he clung again, forehead resting against Ray’s chest. “I… I’ll never forget this,” he murmured. “Never. Not ever. Thank you… for everything.."

Ray held him close, steady and patient, letting the morning stretch quietly around them. Missy purred on the bed beside them, as if bearing witness to the moment, and for the first time in weeks, Mikey felt the full weight of relief, love, and gratitude without fear or guilt pressing down on him.

Mikey finally pulled back just enough to breathe, wiping at the tears still streaking his cheeks. “I… I have to call Frank,” he murmured, grabbing his phone again from the nightstand. “He… he’ll want to know. He can drive us to the hospital.”

Ray tilted his head, curious, still holding the faint warmth of the night’s closeness in his posture. “Frank… your friend?”

Mikey nodded, fumbling slightly as he dialed. “Yeah…”

The phone rang twice before a cheerful voice answered. “Hey, Mikey! What’s up?”

“Frank…” Mikey exclaimed, voice shaking with excitement. “It’s… it’s Gerard. He’s… he’s okay. The cancer… it’s gone. The doctors… they don’t know how, but… he’s… he’s alive, Frank!”

There was a stunned pause on the other end. “Wait… what? He… he’s—he’s okay?”

“Yes! He’s okay! I… I need to get there. Can… can you drive me?” Mikey’s hands were shaking so badly he had to grip the phone tightly.

“Of course! Frank eagerly said. “I’ll be there in 5 minutes!”

Mikey hung up, heart racing, and looked at Ray, still standing beside the bed. “Frank’s on his way… he’s gonna drive us to the hospital.”

Mikey’s excitement was barely contained as he paced the room while waiting for Frank’s car. His mind raced with relief and disbelief—but a sudden thought made him pause. He glanced at Ray, whose markings faintly pulsed under his hoodie even in the soft morning light.

“Ray…” Mikey said cautiously, voice low. “I… I don’t want to scare anyone at the hospital. Is… is there any way you can… hide… your… um…everything?” he gestured at his horns and markings.

Ray tilted his head, a small, calm smile forming. “Yes,” he said softly. “I can…change into a human form, its pretty easy”.

Mikey’s eyes widened. “Really? You can… just… change like that?”

Ray nodded, the faint glow of his markings pulsing once, then fading. “Watch.”

With deliberate care, Ray drew a slow breath. The subtle curves of his horns softened, receding almost imperceptibly, and the faint glow of his markings faded to nothing. His eyes shifted, the unusual pattern smoothing into normal, human-colored irises. Even his skin seemed to settle into a naturally human tone. When he opened his eyes fully, he looked like an ordinary teenage boy—still striking, still warm, still entirely him—but now without the supernatural features that might startle the uninitiated.

Mikey blinked, completely stunned. “Oh… wow. That’s… perfect. You… you look… normal. Totally normal!”

Ray’s small smile deepened “thats what i was going for”.

At that moment, a firm knock sounded at the door. “Mikey! You in there?!” Frank’s voice called, tinged with impatience.

Mikey’s heart jumped. “That’s… that’s him! Frank’s here!”

Mikey stepped forward and opened the door, and Frank’s jaw literally dropped. He froze for a second, blinking as if he hadn’t expected the boy in front of him. “Uh… Mikey… who’s… this?”

Mikey’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Frank… this is… Ray. My… um… boyfriend.”

Mikey nodded, shrinking a little under the look. “Yeah…”

Frank let out a low whistle, crossing his arms with a grin that was already turning dangerous. “Dang Mikey. I didn’t know you swung that way, how come you’ve never told me?! Did you forget or something”

Mikey groaned. “I didn’t forget—I just… didn’t know how to tell you..”

Frank laughed. “Didn’t know how to say it? You could’ve started with, ‘Hey Frank, by the way, I’m dating a dude now and he looks like he stepped out of a romance movie.’ That would’ve helped.”

Ray stood politely beside Mikey, hands folded, expression calm but warm. “It’s… nice to meet you,” he said evenly.

Frank glanced at him, then back at Mikey, smirking. “Oh, he’s polite too? Wow. Mikey, you’re really out here upgrading your life without telling me.”

Mikey covered his face with his hands. “Please stop.”

“Nope,” Frank said cheerfully. “Absolutely not. I’ve earned this. How long has this been going on, huh? Days? Weeks? And you didn’t think to tell your best friend that you suddenly have a boyfriend?”

Mikey peeked through his fingers. “It hasn’t been that long…”

Frank grinned wider. “Uh-huh. Sure. And I totally believe that this just… happened. You okay there, Romeo? Heart racing? Because you’re turning redder by the second.”

Ray glanced at Mikey, clearly trying not to smile.

Frank snickered. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop—for now.” He stepped aside, motioning toward the car. “Let’s go see Gerard”

Mikey dropped his hands, exhaling in relief. “Thank you.”

Ray stepped forward with him, staying close, calm and steady at his side. As they headed for the car, Mikey felt the strange, wonderful normalcy of it all—being teased, being cared about, being allowed to feel happy without fear.

Gerard was alive.

And somehow, life was moving forward again.

The drive to the hospital felt unreal.

Frank talked the entire way, being his usual loud energetic self while Mikey sat quietly in the back seat beside Ray, hands clenched together in his lap. Every red light felt like an insult. Every slow car ahead of them made his chest tighten.

Ray sat close, shoulder brushing Mikey’s, a steady presence anchoring him.

“We’re almost there,” Frank commented, glancing at the rearview mirror. “Try not to sprint the second we park, okay?”

Mikey huffed a shaky laugh. “No promises.”

The hospital loomed ahead, bright and sterile and terrifyingly familiar. Frank parked, barely turning the engine off before Mikey was already out of the car, heart hammering as they rushed inside.

The smell hit him first—cleaning solution, antiseptic, something cold and sharp that instantly brought back weeks of fear. His footsteps echoed too loudly on the floor as they moved toward the elevator.

“Mikey?” Frank asked more softly now. “You good?”

Mikey nodded, though his hands were shaking. “Yeah. I just… Ive never felt so relieved..”

Ray stayed right beside him as the elevator doors slid open and shut. The ride felt endless. Mikey stared at the numbers climbing, breath shallow, chest tight like it might collapse in on itself.

When the doors finally opened, they stepped out onto the familiar floor.

The nurse at the desk smiled when she saw Mikey. “You must be Gerard’s brother.”

Mikey’s throat tightened. “Yeah, that's me..”

“He’s awake,” she said gently. “You can go in.”

For a second, Mikey couldn’t move.

Then his feet carried him forward before his mind could catch up.

The room door was partially open. Light spilled out, soft and warm. Mikey pushed it the rest of the way open—and stopped dead in the doorway.

Gerard was sitting up in bed. Not pale and half-gone like before. Not hooked up to as many machines. His cheeks had color again. His eyes were open and alert, blinking as he turned toward the door.

“Mikey?” Gerard said, voice hoarse but alive.

Something inside Mikey shattered.

“Gerard,” he whispered—and then he was moving, crossing the room in a blur, grabbing onto the side of the bed like it was the only thing keeping him standing.

“You’re—” Mikey choked, tears spilling freely now. “You’re not sick anymore!”

Gerard smiled weakly, confusion flickering across his face. “Yeah… apparently I scared everyone pretty bad, huh?”

Mikey let out a broken laugh that turned into a sob. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against Gerard’s arm. “I thought you were gonna die” he whispered. “I really thought I was gonna you.”

Gerard’s expression softened. He lifted one hand and rested it on Mikey’s hair, fingers threading through it. “Hey… I’m here. I’m okay.”

Behind them, Frank stood quietly near the door, arms crossed tightly, eyes suspiciously wet. He cleared his throat. “Glad your not dying anymore..you scared the hell out of us.”

Gerard smirked faintly. “Thanks.”

Happy tears fell down Mikey’s cheeks, still holding onto his brother like he might vanish if he let go.

Ray stood just behind Mikey, watching. He didn’t step forward. He didn’t interrupt. He just observed quietly, something deep and unreadable in his eyes as he saw the result of the choice Mikey had made.

This was what it had been for.

Mikey finally pulled back enough to look at Gerard properly. “The doctors said… they don’t know how it happened.”

Gerard shrugged slightly. “Neither do I. One minute I felt awful, and then… I didn’t. I feel… normal.”

Mikey swallowed hard, glancing briefly back at Ray.

Ray met his gaze and gave the smallest nod.

Mikey turned back to his brother, smiling through tears “it doesn’t matter, im just glad your better..”

For the first time since everything had gone wrong, the hospital room didn’t feel like a place of endings.

It felt like a beginning.