Our Memories Defeat Us [5/10?]
Title: Our Memories Defeat Us [5/10?]
Author: myhagridromance
Pairing: Frank/Mikey, past Frank/Jamia
Rating: 13
POV: Frank
Summary: Frank wonders if he will ever be the same again after a thoughtless drunk driver tears his life apart.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened. The title is from ‘Early Sunsets Over Monroeville’ by My Chemical Romance.
Author Notes: Happy new year ;D Hope you enjoy this one. Still Mikey's POV. Please keep commenting xxx
Previous Chapters: Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four
-- Mikey's POV --
'Michael. Michael!'
It was still dark outside, but I felt almost too well rested, despite not sleeping for so many weeks. Had I slept all day? The flickering strip light dimly lit the corridor. I jerked awake so fast that I rolled off my bunk and landed in a heap on the cold floor. I heard a giggle as I did so, one that seemed new yet familiar at the same time. I looked up and saw - what?
It was him... just as perfect as I remembered. The soft ebony hair, the deepest hazel eyes, the perfectly shaped lips, the flawless skin. I immediately brought my hands up to my face, again hoping I looked okay, though I knew my appearance would never compare to his. It took me less than a second later to realise I was crying. He shot me a quick confused look before a police officer moved between us.
'He's in here with you now, okay?' the officer said simply. Without waiting for an answer, he watched us both carefully for a second, his eyes full of questions - why were we looking at each other like that, why was I crying. He locked the cell and looked back over his shoulder at least four times before disappearing through the door.
'Uh, hey. I've never actually been in jail before, so.. you're gonna have to help me out.' His painfully perfect voice sent another tear streaming down my cheek and splashing onto the stone floor. Great, I'd already made an ass of myself.
'Hi, sorry, I um, had a bad night.' his eyes grew wide when he heard my voice. I would've given anything to hear his thoughts.
'So... you shared a cell before?'
'Nope, I've been in prison a few times, but they've never let me share before.' I cringed at my own words. I sounded like a complete nut case.
'Uh, I was just wondering, they mentioned something about - is this area of the prison for uh, special cases?' I got it. He didn't want me to be offended.
'Yeah, it's for the crazy violent ones of us.' The same curious expression I had seen earlier that night flashed onto his face. I contemplated for a second over if I should tell him, but something about it felt right. I didn't think for one second he would judge me for it.
'Me? Drugs. Used to get 'em from wherever I could. I could never do anything anything, I was a college dropout. I used to live with my brother, he told me it'd all be okay, and y'know, did all the stuff big brothers are supposed to do. Then he met Lynz, and well, pretty soon I was left without a house or anything else.
So drugs were my guilty pleasure. It was a way of getting out, away from everything. I did whatever, I didn't even know what I was taking half the time. It wasn't long before I got locked up for it, now I'm the same. I still get the stuff, there's a dealer next door, we slip them to each other occasionally. I escape from here. It's fucking awesome. I mean, the come downs aren't so awesome, when I realise all that awesome escape artist work was fuckin' hallucinations and I'm still stuck in this hell hole.' I paused for breath, taking in the way he was looking at me. Like he didn't expect a weedy little kid like me to be into heavy drugs. Nah, me neither.
We looked at each other for a few seconds. He seemed lost in thought, so much so that it shocked me to hear his beautiful voice again.
'I shot someone in their sleep.'
I smirked.
'Nice.'
He blinked repeatedly. 'I did it 'cause he killed my wife. He got drunk, and knowing he was too drunk to drive, did it anyway and snapped my wife's neck in the process. I spent three months gathering information about him until I realised that I'd spent so long obsessing over revenge that I hadn't been eating, working or paying any of the goddamn bills, that I had to just get it over with.'
There was a (mostly) comfortable silence while I thought of what the best response would be.
'And you're the first person I've managed to say that to.' he admitted. I smiled so wide I thought my face would crack, and he returned it. 'I just had my fucking court case and spent the whole time fucking stuttering and crying and begging them just to pass me off as guilty. And it was all because I just couldn't tell them what that fucking bastard did to her.'
'But you just told me...?'
'Yeah, and it was easy, I dunno why.' We smiled together again. I got one last look at his perfect face before the strip light turned off and we were left in complete darkness. He giggled - man, that was so adorable.
'Ugh, it's still the middle of the night, we should probably get some sleep. I take it the top bunk is yours? Though maybe you need a ladder for that thing, judging by earlier...' I cringed mentally when I remembered falling off the bed.
I heard him slide into the bed below me, his face still etched perfectly into my mind's eye.
'You'll help me out tomorrow, yeah? I mean, where stuff is and what we do and everything?'
'Sure.' I giggled. 'Hey wait, you never told me your name...' but my reply was a series of cute little snuffles, which slowly developed into peaceful snores. Awwwwww.
And yet again, despite sleeping the whole day, I slipped into a blissfully perfect sleep.
--
I awoke to dismal grey skies and the sound of the morning bell. There were several grumpy voices, still thick with sleep, but I couldn't hear the only one I wanted. I climbed down and frowned when I found the bottom bunk empty, but looking closer I could see a piece of paper lying on the pillow.
Sorry if I woke you, being taken out early, 'final assessment' or something.
By the way, it's Frank. And you're Michael right?
OX
Author: myhagridromance
Pairing: Frank/Mikey, past Frank/Jamia
Rating: 13
POV: Frank
Summary: Frank wonders if he will ever be the same again after a thoughtless drunk driver tears his life apart.
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened. The title is from ‘Early Sunsets Over Monroeville’ by My Chemical Romance.
Author Notes: Happy new year ;D Hope you enjoy this one. Still Mikey's POV. Please keep commenting xxx
Previous Chapters: Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four
-- Mikey's POV --
'Michael. Michael!'
It was still dark outside, but I felt almost too well rested, despite not sleeping for so many weeks. Had I slept all day? The flickering strip light dimly lit the corridor. I jerked awake so fast that I rolled off my bunk and landed in a heap on the cold floor. I heard a giggle as I did so, one that seemed new yet familiar at the same time. I looked up and saw - what?
It was him... just as perfect as I remembered. The soft ebony hair, the deepest hazel eyes, the perfectly shaped lips, the flawless skin. I immediately brought my hands up to my face, again hoping I looked okay, though I knew my appearance would never compare to his. It took me less than a second later to realise I was crying. He shot me a quick confused look before a police officer moved between us.
'He's in here with you now, okay?' the officer said simply. Without waiting for an answer, he watched us both carefully for a second, his eyes full of questions - why were we looking at each other like that, why was I crying. He locked the cell and looked back over his shoulder at least four times before disappearing through the door.
'Uh, hey. I've never actually been in jail before, so.. you're gonna have to help me out.' His painfully perfect voice sent another tear streaming down my cheek and splashing onto the stone floor. Great, I'd already made an ass of myself.
'Hi, sorry, I um, had a bad night.' his eyes grew wide when he heard my voice. I would've given anything to hear his thoughts.
'So... you shared a cell before?'
'Nope, I've been in prison a few times, but they've never let me share before.' I cringed at my own words. I sounded like a complete nut case.
'Uh, I was just wondering, they mentioned something about - is this area of the prison for uh, special cases?' I got it. He didn't want me to be offended.
'Yeah, it's for the crazy violent ones of us.' The same curious expression I had seen earlier that night flashed onto his face. I contemplated for a second over if I should tell him, but something about it felt right. I didn't think for one second he would judge me for it.
'Me? Drugs. Used to get 'em from wherever I could. I could never do anything anything, I was a college dropout. I used to live with my brother, he told me it'd all be okay, and y'know, did all the stuff big brothers are supposed to do. Then he met Lynz, and well, pretty soon I was left without a house or anything else.
So drugs were my guilty pleasure. It was a way of getting out, away from everything. I did whatever, I didn't even know what I was taking half the time. It wasn't long before I got locked up for it, now I'm the same. I still get the stuff, there's a dealer next door, we slip them to each other occasionally. I escape from here. It's fucking awesome. I mean, the come downs aren't so awesome, when I realise all that awesome escape artist work was fuckin' hallucinations and I'm still stuck in this hell hole.' I paused for breath, taking in the way he was looking at me. Like he didn't expect a weedy little kid like me to be into heavy drugs. Nah, me neither.
We looked at each other for a few seconds. He seemed lost in thought, so much so that it shocked me to hear his beautiful voice again.
'I shot someone in their sleep.'
I smirked.
'Nice.'
He blinked repeatedly. 'I did it 'cause he killed my wife. He got drunk, and knowing he was too drunk to drive, did it anyway and snapped my wife's neck in the process. I spent three months gathering information about him until I realised that I'd spent so long obsessing over revenge that I hadn't been eating, working or paying any of the goddamn bills, that I had to just get it over with.'
There was a (mostly) comfortable silence while I thought of what the best response would be.
'And you're the first person I've managed to say that to.' he admitted. I smiled so wide I thought my face would crack, and he returned it. 'I just had my fucking court case and spent the whole time fucking stuttering and crying and begging them just to pass me off as guilty. And it was all because I just couldn't tell them what that fucking bastard did to her.'
'But you just told me...?'
'Yeah, and it was easy, I dunno why.' We smiled together again. I got one last look at his perfect face before the strip light turned off and we were left in complete darkness. He giggled - man, that was so adorable.
'Ugh, it's still the middle of the night, we should probably get some sleep. I take it the top bunk is yours? Though maybe you need a ladder for that thing, judging by earlier...' I cringed mentally when I remembered falling off the bed.
I heard him slide into the bed below me, his face still etched perfectly into my mind's eye.
'You'll help me out tomorrow, yeah? I mean, where stuff is and what we do and everything?'
'Sure.' I giggled. 'Hey wait, you never told me your name...' but my reply was a series of cute little snuffles, which slowly developed into peaceful snores. Awwwwww.
And yet again, despite sleeping the whole day, I slipped into a blissfully perfect sleep.
--
I awoke to dismal grey skies and the sound of the morning bell. There were several grumpy voices, still thick with sleep, but I couldn't hear the only one I wanted. I climbed down and frowned when I found the bottom bunk empty, but looking closer I could see a piece of paper lying on the pillow.
Sorry if I woke you, being taken out early, 'final assessment' or something.
By the way, it's Frank. And you're Michael right?
OX