the best kept secrets!

[savvygambols]

Happy One Year Anniversary of My Bandom Involvement! Fandom is a more ridiculous place for it. And I have a story for you!

You're A Good Weakness TAI gen, Chislett POV ~5000
Mike Carden is a superhero. How crazy is that?

Siska claimed he could see through clothes and through skin and through people, if he needed to, but Mike refused to tell them if this was true.



Mike Carden could lift all of Butcher’s kit with one hand and Siska on his shoulder. He could hear the quietest of whispers and could be caught laughing at Butcher’s inappropriate comments during practice. Siska claimed he could see through clothes and through skin and through people, if he needed to, but Mike refused to tell them if this was true. He was fast, very fast when he needed to be. He was bendy in ways that most men only dreamed of - not quite Plastic Man, but close - and could hide himself in plain sight so well that most of the band thought he had the power of invisibility.

“And he can’t really fly, but he can float. Oh,” William shook his head, “oh, how he can float. You haven’t seen floating until you’ve seen Mike jump off the back of his apartment complex. It’s fucking art.”

“Didn’t know there was an art to floating,” said Chiz. He squinted at William sitting across the table. “You’re kidding, right?”

William shook his head and his hair came loose, falling into his eyes. He looked, Chiz noticed for the first time, very serious. It was the most serious that Chiz had ever seen him, in fact. “No, Michael. I’m not joking.”

Chiz scratched his head and decided that the best way to deal with this particular absurdity was to not. “Alright. Okay. He’s Superman.”

“Not exactly Superman, but. He’s got responsibilities. It’s sometimes very difficult for him to find a balance between that life and his life with the band.” William sighed and put both of his elbows on the table top. “It causes quite a strain while we’re touring.”

Chiz stayed silent. He could not, for the life of him, figure out what the point of this elaborate prank was.

“We thought you should know,” said William, “before you commit. We love you, we want you in our band, but I thought you should know.”

“Why isn’t Mike here? This is about him.”

“Oh,” said William, “he starts his work at dark. He said he’d drop by the bar if he had time but when he’s home, he really keeps busy.”

Chiz put an elbow on the table and cupped his chin in his hand. He was full of shit; Chiz was certain of this, but at least William meant well. Even if his sense of humor was totally bizarre. “Is there anything else I should know about?”

“Sisky likes D&D,” said William. “And Butcher doesn’t like clothing. And I don’t shower.”

“Ever?”

“Often.”

Chiz shook his head and grinned. He raised his glass. “Cheers.”

William smiled for the first time and raised his glass as well. “Cheers.”

Actually, as it turned out, William wasn’t as full of shit as Chiz thought. When he came to practice the first time, he was early and found Mike doing one-handed pushups with Butcher meditating on his back.

“Wow,” he said. “That’s amazing.”

Butcher cracked an eye open. “William didn’t tell you?”

Chiz shrugged, starting unpacking his guitar. “He did. I didn’t believe him. I thought he was fucking around.”

Mike huffed a laugh. “Right, ‘cause it’s so unbelievable that I could be strong.”

“Not really, I mean, you are the only one who-” Chiz stopped. Butcher raised an eyebrow.

“Who what? Come on!”

“Sisky’s like two pounds,” Chiz deflected.

“A hundred and fifty, asshole!” Sisky punched Chiz in the shoulder and jumped over him. Chiz ducked.

“Two pounds.” Butcher was giggling. “Skinny little baby.”

Sisky leapt at him. Mike flexed his back, locking his arm mid-push, and they tumbled off and over him, shouting. Mike winked at Chiz. Chiz stared.

Sisky sat on Butcher’s stomach. “Billy’s worse,” he said. “If I’m two pounds, he’s like. . .a half.”

“I’m twice your size,” said William, pushing through the door with his guitar in hand. “So shut up.”

“I can pick you both up with one hand,” said Mike. “So you shut up.” He pulled himself into a sitting position, legs bent at impossible angles.

“You’re Superman,” said Sisky. “So really you. . .”

“I’m not Superman, jackass, I’m like, I’m fucking, like-”

“Strong man! Like the Hulk. You’re the fucking Hulk, man!”

“Yo. No way. I’ll take Superman. Hulk has no style.”

“I’ll show you style.” Sisky posed.

“You wouldn’t know style if it hit you in the face,” Mike snorted. Sisky flipped him off.

“So I thought we were in a band,” said William conversationally to Chiz. “But I’m not sure. Do you play guitar?”

“I play guitar,” said Chiz. “Can you sing?”

“As a matter of fact,” said William, “I can. Maybe we can form a band.” He grinned at Chiz. Chiz bit his lip and smiled back.

Chiz liked being in The Academy Is. The music they made was loud, fast, heartfelt to extremes. And the guys were a lot of fun. He still wasn’t sure how much they were fucking around with the repeated in-joke that Mike Carden was. . .Superman, or whatever, but it didn’t bother him much because they let him in on it, easy and comfortable. He even let Mike carry all his guitars out to his car. Mike had once tried to pick him and his guitars, but it had proved too much. Sisky wouldn’t let either of them live it down.

So Mike was just short of superhero strong. It was a funny joke. Chiz wasn’t too bothered.

Except they went on tour in the spring after Santi dropped and it turned out there was a degree of truth to Mike being able to float really well or something. Butcher got drunk up on the roof of some venue and fell. Or jumped. Chiz wasn’t sure. He was standing in the street with Mike, reveling in the fresh Midwestern air when Butcher shouted “yo, Mike!” and fell or dropped or did whatever he did that caused him to trip over the edge and plummet.

Mike looked calm but he ran up the side of the venue, rebounded off a lamppost and jumped higher than Chiz thought was possible. He jumped up and kept jumping, and Chiz quite expected him to take off and soar but he started sinking. It didn’t matter; he had caught Butcher around the waist and they both floated gently to the ground, almost as if they had been lowered.

Mike’s feet touched the ground before Butcher’s and he hit him on the head. “You douche,” he said, pushing Butcher’s head. “Anyone could have seen.”

“There wasn’t anyone,” said Butcher blearily, with an expression of utter ecstasy as he stepped off the air and onto the sidewalk. “I checked. I was on the roof, remember? Could see everything.”

“Someday I’m not gonna catch you,” Mike threatened. Butcher collapsed against him with a huge grin. Mike put an arm around him. “Fuck, man.”

Chiz stood still, watching Mike escort Butcher up the stairs into the bus. He felt a bit lightheaded.

“You see?” said William, coming up behind Chiz and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Art. Wasn’t that beautiful?”

Chiz leaned into him, glad to have some support. He felt a bit giddy. “Yes. Yes it was.”

Maybe Mike was a superhero. He disappeared at night. Not all the time, but often enough that had it been anyone else, they would have been fired. He left in the evening, before the bus left, after all the fans had gone home, and appeared either at the gas stations, truck stops or restaurants the bus stopped at, or showed up at the next venue and fell asleep for hours.

He never missed a show, but he came back looking rough, with tired eyes or blood on his hands. Mike was very good about cleaning himself up, (better then anyone else in the band, really) and was always ready for the show. But he did look exhausted on the days that he was missing from the bus all night.

“Do you have a name?” asked Chiz late one afternoon after watching Mike down can after can of caffeinated beverages.

“Uh,” said Mike, confused. “Mike Carden? Michael Stephen Carden?”

“Stephen, really?” said Butcher, coming from the bunks. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“No, like a superhero name,” said Chiz, overawed as Mike opened what could only be his sixth cane of Red Bull.

“You know you two are like, one letter off from having the same initials?” said Butcher, sitting down next to Chiz. “You guys should pull the twin thing.”

“I’m two years older,” Chiz pointed out. “That’s a long time to be gestating.”

“It was lonely, I’m not gonna lie,” said Mike.

“But still,” protested Butcher. “Twins. It’d be so awesome.”

“We don’t even look alike,” said Mike. “And Chiz is Australian.”

“Maybe your long gestation was responsible for the fact that you’re a freak?” asked Butcher. He grinned. “Two years in Chiz’s mom would make anyone freaky.”

Chiz elbowed him. Mike threw an empty can at Butcher’s head. He was jumping back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“I don’t have a superhero name,” he said finally. “I’m not a superhero.”

“You save people,” said Butcher. “You saved me a couple of times. That makes you my hero.”

“Yeah,” said Mike. “But that’s just what I do.” He grabbed another can of Red Bull. “It’s not like something I decided to do one day for fun.”

Chiz watched as Mike finished the can. The caffeine didn’t seem to be affecting him in the slightest.

“Do you have a weakness?”

“Haven’t found my weakness yet,” said Mike. “I’m invincible, dude.”

“Invincible Dude!” said Butcher. “There’s your superhero name.”

“Guys,” said William, coming from the back of the bus. “I just got off the phone with Pete. Decaydance Festival is on. Everyone’s gonna be there. Panic-”

“Ryan Ross!” shouted Butcher. “Yes! We get to see Jwalk!”

“And Gym Class are gonna be there, and Pete and the guys, of course.” William was grinning. “Hush Sound couldn’t make it, but Cobra, too.”

“We’re spending all summer with them,” Chiz observed.

“I want to spend my whole life with them,” Butcher said. “Where’s Sisky? He needs to hear of our great fortune!” He leapt off the couch and rushed off the bus. Mike crumpled a can in his fist. William squinted at Mike. “Long night?”

As suddenly as William had asked, Mike wilted, his shoulders sloping inwards, and the dark circles around his eyes became apparent to Chiz for the first time.

“There was a burning building,” said Mike, twisting the can in his hands. “And a cat lady on the top floor, she didn’t know how many cats she had, and seriously Billy, so many fucking cats, I nearly forgot her, and-”

“Bummer.” William cut him off as Mike started looking more and more distressed about the cats. “You should stop drinking Red Bull before you OD, my friend.”

“Dead on my feet,” mumbled Mike. “There was a bar fight after that and these guys tried to drown me.”

“Come here,” said William. Mike shook his head, rolling his shoulders back. William frowned at him. “No, come here.” He reached out and pulled Mike to him and began to rub his shoulders. “You do good.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Mike, but his head was fell back against William’s shoulder.

Chiz shifted. He wasn’t sure if this was a conversation that anyone, least of all him, was meant to hear.

“Is there anyone else like you?” he asked, despite himself. The two men looked at him.

“Like me?” said Mike, “like superhero shit?” He shook his head, looking a little dazed as William’s hands started working lower down his back. “Bob Bryar has the power of suggestion-“

“Does he ever.” William smirked.

“And Spencer Smith can cause earthquakes. But they’re the only ones I know, outside of my family.”

“It’s a family thing?”

“It’s hereditary. My mom was like, super flexible-”

“Hell yeah she was,” murmured William.

“Dude, shut up. My granddad could fly. I have relatives who can spit fire, stuff like that.”

“Wow,” said Chiz. He paused. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” said William, giving Mike a hug from behind. “It’s pretty great.”

Decaydance Festival backstage was a big noisy party that Chiz was not really in the mood for. He had a headache from all the traveling, but their dressing room had turned into the center of the after party with simultaneous games of strip poker and drunk scrabble filling the room and spilling out into the hall.

He took one look around, catching Gabe losing strip poker on purpose to the delight of many. He shook his head and left. It was somewhat quieter down the hall and Panic’s dressing room looked to be deserted. He stepped in, hoping to lie down for a bit.

He caught only the snap of Spencer’s hips against Travis’ before he tumbled to the floor. “Ow, fuck,” he moaned. He rubbed his head. “Is that what your earthquakes are like? Ooh.” He held his head.

“Oh fuck.” Both men were looking at him, Travis, flushed and Spencer, furious. Spencer was already pulling away. “No one was supposed to know.”

“I won’t tell.” Chiz sat up. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t.” He rubbed his head again. “Ow. Mike told me about your thing.”

“Oh my god,” Spencer was pacing. “I need to- Travis!”

Travis touched his shoulder. “Come on, it’s fine.”

Spencer shook his head. “No, Travis. You could get into so much trouble.”

Chiz pulled himself up to his feet. “I’ll just go. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yes, we do.” Spencer paused, shifted his hip just slightly. Chiz fell to his knees. Travis remained standing, however, hovering at Spencer’s shoulder. “You can’t know. Travis could get hurt.”

“Spencer, come on. No one’s gonna hurt me and I’m never gonna hurt you.”

“Seriously,” said Chiz as he climbed to his feet. “I won’t tell. I didn’t even see much. I’m not a gossip, don’t worry. And I’m sure William will get over it if he ever finds out.”

“Chislett.” Spencer looked dangerous. “Do not move.”

Chiz took two steps back toward the door. Spencer cocked his hip. Chiz fell down again but Travis remained upright. “What the fuck,” he said slowly, as it dawned on him. “What. . .you’re immune. Spencer doesn’t have an effect on you.”

The two men stared at him. He squinted. “What’s your superpower?”

“I don’t have one,” said Travis. “I’m just a normal dude like you.”

Chiz blinked. “You’re his weakness?”

“Oh fuck,” moaned Spencer, covering his face. “Travis.”

“I didn’t know weaknesses were people,” said Chiz. Mike nor William nor Sisky nor Butcher had ever mentioned it to him. Of course, their discussions as to Mike’s abilities had, of late, derailed into discussions as to Mike’s abilities in bed. He started to sit up.

“Well fuck, what else would it be,” snapped Spencer. “Don’t move.” He rotated his hips and Chiz fell flat on his back.

There was silence. Chiz found himself breathing long, shallow breaths. Spencer had his hands on his hips and he looked fit to kill.

“Can you be trusted?” asked Travis after a while, putting an arm around Spencer’s shoulders. “You can’t tell anyone. Spencer fights crime, man. There are a lot of shitheads who’d love to find out who his weakness is.”

“They’ll hurt him,” said Spencer, clinging to Travis. “They’ll use him and they’ll hurt him if they ever find out. You can’t tell anyone, Michael. No one.”

They were cute, standing together, looking strong and proud. Chiz swallowed a smile.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, absolutely. I promise.”

Spencer did not look convinced, but he nodded. Chiz jumped to his feet and left the room. The next dressing room had been abandoned by the Cobras and was empty, save Gizmo. He moved the dog, lay down on the couch and fell asleep.

Chiz woke up when Mike started prodding him with an empty bottle. “Yo, dude. People are going back to the hotel. Want to come?”

“You didn’t tell me that your weaknesses were people,” said Chiz, still foggy from sleep. He’d dreamt about Mike’s grandfather, floating down through the universe.

“Well,” said Mike, yawning, “we wouldn’t be totally awesome if we could be taken down by the things. People are better. There’s the chance that you won’t ever meet them. A very small chance but a chance. Look at me! I haven’t met my weakness yet. I could live forever.”

“Could you?”

“No way, I’ll die like you. Get up, everyone’s leaving.” He held out a hand and started to yank Chiz off the couch.

“Ouch,” groaned Chiz. “Easy.” He pulled himself up.

“What’s with the questions?” asked Mike.

“Nothing,” said Chiz. “Just wondering.”

Mike clapped him on the back. “Cool.”

Chiz fell asleep in the hotel room he was sharing with Butcher. Fall Out Boy had the master suite two floors up and he had the privilege of sleeping in a quiet, dark room.

“Chiz.”

He cracked an eye open. He couldn’t have been asleep for more then twenty minutes. Spencer Smith stood before him. “I’m sorry,” said Spencer. “But I can’t trust you.”

“What?” said Chiz.

Spencer gave an almighty hip-check and Chiz passed out.

“Spencer,” Brendon Urie’s voice was high pitched in Chiz’s ear. “Spencer Smith, what did you do?”

“He found out!” Spencer replied, somewhere above him. “He knows who my weakness is.”

“You didn’t really need to kidnap him, did you?” asked Ryan, farther away and sounding much more calm then Brendon.

“But hey, congratulations for sneaking him into the country without any of us finding out.” Jon sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “That’s pretty skilled.”

“It really is,” agreed Ryan.

“Spencer,” said Brendon, louder now. “Spencer, you have to return him. They’re going on tour. William Beckett will be very unhappy.”

“I can’t.” Spencer himself sounded very unhappy. “He knows my weakness. No one is supposed to know who my weakness is. You guys don’t even know who my weakness is. It’s too dangerous. What if Chiz tells?”

“‘m a Christian,” said Chiz, rolling over. He had the most awful headache and the cold cement floor was not helping. He looked up at the boys, hovering over him in the dim light of a single lightbulb hanging from the far end of the room. “I’m a good guy.”

“Brendon was Mormon and he steals cookies,” Jon pointed out. “That’s against the Bible.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t make them so tasty, Jon Walker. Did you ever think of that?”

Spencer shifted nervously. “You’ll tell. Everyone tells. It’s a human thing. We need to tell each other stuff. You’ll put. . .my weakness in trouble.”

“Won’t tell.” Chiz shut his eyes. His head really hurt. “Not gonna tell. Where am I? Where did you take me?”

“Our cabin. You’re in Nevada.” Brendon put a hand on his forehead. “Hey, you’re burning up.” He looked up at his bandmates. “Spencer, what did you do to him?”

“I pushed him over here,” said Spencer, looking embarrassed for the first time. “We rode a seismic wave.”

“You rode a-” Ryan rolled his eyes. “Spencer, you can’t do that with normal people. It’s painful for us, remember?”

“Someone might have seen,” Jon agreed. He peered at Chiz. “You look awful.”

“Cheers,” groaned Chiz.

“We were really high up,” said Spencer. “No one saw us.”

Brendon ran a hand through Chiz’s hair. “Spencer, you gave him altitude sickness!”

Spencer shrugged.

“We can’t leave him here,” said Brendon. “He’s going to die.”

“I don’t want to die,” said Chiz. “I want to go on tour and hang out with Mike Carden.”

Brendon put his hands over his mouth. “Spencer! Mike Carden is gonna kill you.”

“Oh shit,” said Spencer. “I didn’t think of that.”

“He’s really strong,” said Jon. “And bendy and he can float and he will kick your ass, Spencer.”

“Hey,” Spencer brushed his hands over his hips. “I got earthquakes. Seismic waves. Sonic booms.”

“Mike Carden’s invisible though,” said Brendon, “and I heard he sees through clothing.”

Spencer hip-checked Brendon and he fell over onto Chiz’s face. Chiz groaned.

“I guess we better keep him,” said Jon, and he was definitely laughing.

“Well, whatever,” sighed Ryan. “As long as he doesn’t get in the way of writing the album.”

They kept him locked in the basement, but Brendon tucked a blanket around him and gave him a pillow. And a stuffed lion, “in case you feel lonely! But I’ll come bring you breakfast, I don’t care what Spencer says.”

There was, unfortunately, no escape. It was a lightless basement, cold and dark. The walls were all cement. It was big enough so that he didn’t feel claustrophobic, but it was also a basement and it had leftover stage props from the last tour. The carnival theme was starting to creep him out.

At first, Chiz tried to push his way out every time Brendon came in with food, but Spencer was always there with a quick hip-pop that sent Chiz tumbling down the basement stairs. He gave up after a while and resigned himself to a dark existence in the basement.

“William’s worried,” said Brendon one evening as they sat eating dinner on the basement steps. “Your band keeps calling. They’re frantic about you.”

“Did you tell them where I am?” asked Chiz. “Then they could stop calling and come get me.”

“Jon tried, but Spencer made him hang up. I tried to text message Sisky, but then Spencer took away my sidekick. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks for trying,” said Chiz with a sigh.

“Yeah,” said Brendon. “Well, you wouldn’t tell, would you?”

“No,” said Chiz. “Never.”

“Not even after he’s locked you in basement for several days and given you altitude sickness?”

“No,” said Chiz, annoyed. He was a nice guy! He wasn’t going rat out something as important as Spencer’s weakness. “I’m not gonna sell him out even if he is being a douche.”

Brendon giggled.

“Seriously,” said Chiz. “I don’t care. What do I have to do to prove to him that I’m not going to reveal his weakness? I don’t care about his weakness. I just want to go home.”

“Even if they tortured you?”

“Even if they tortured me.”

Brendon pursed his lips. “You’re a good man, Michael Guy. So who is it?”

“I’m not telling.”

Brendon pouted. Then he grinned. “I hope this hasn’t been too unpleasant for you. You’ll get out of here someday. Mike Carden will come save you!”

Chiz took a bite of his sandwich. “I think you need to limit your exposure to Gabe Saporta. I don’t like living in the basement.”

“Oh yeah.” Brendon waved a hand. “Tell me about it. Ryan wants a keytar on the next album.”

Chiz laughed. Brendon collected the plates and left. He left the door open a crack, but Chiz didn’t feel like checking to see if Spencer was guarding the door or not. He had enough bruises already. He put his head in his hands.

“Chiz.”

Chiz looked up. There was no one around.

“Chiz.”

“What?” he whispered back. “Who’s there?”

Mike Carden stepped out from behind some carousel horses, or appeared. “Chiz,” he hissed. “We gotta get out of here.”

Chiz jumped up. “Mike!”

Mike grinned. “Come on, we have to leave before Spencer finds us.” He stepped over the pile of old stage costumes Chiz had been using for his bed. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Spencer’s crazy though.”

“Yeah,” said Mike. “He is. We’ve got to get out of here.” He paused. “I have to carry you when we run back to Chicago. Otherwise, it’ll take too long. It’s going to be awkward, sorry.”

Chiz shrugged. He just wanted to get home.

“Here, touch my sleeve.” Mike offered his arm. “Then I can make us invisible and get us out of here.”

Chiz held onto his arm. Mike took a step and disappeared. Chiz did not.

“The fuck?” Mike reappeared. “What- ”

“MIKE CARDEN,” shouted Spencer. He was standing at the top of the stairs. “Mike Carden!”

“Spencer Smith,” said Mike, frowning. “You crazy bastard, let Chiz come home.”

“He knows too much,” said Spencer.

“You can’t lock him in the basement,” said Mike. “For fuck’s sake.”

“I can’t.” Spencer shook his head. “I can’t. He knows who my weakness is, Mike. He could sell us both out. I don’t want to. . .Mike, what if my weakness gets hurt-”

“That’s your fault. You should have been more careful.”

Spencer glared and cocked his hip. There was a noise like thunder and Mike and Chiz both fell down.

Chiz came to lying on the basement floor. He sat up. Mike was sitting in front of him, staring at the cement wall.

“I can punch through the wall,” he said, “but it’ll wreck the foundation and I’m afraid that if the house falls down, I won’t get both you and the Panic boys out of here fast enough.”

“You can see through stuff?”

“Yeah.” Mike smiled, a small smile. “Don’t tell Sisky though. He’ll just want to know what everyone is wearing.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course.” And really, Chiz wouldn’t tell. He was a good guy. He couldn’t figure out why no one believed in him anymore.

“So.” Mike crossed his legs. “We’re stuck. Or you’re stuck, because I can get out. William would be so pissed if I came home without you. He’s really worried.”

Chiz got up and sat next to him. They stared at the wall.

“So you’re my weakness,” said Mike. “That’s kinda inconvenient.”

“Yeah,” Chiz agreed.

The door cracked open. Mike was on his feet in an instant and had disappeared somewhere near the bottom of the steps. Brendon poked his head through. “Chiz?” he whispered. “Mike?”

Chiz waved at him.

“Where’s Mike?” asked Brendon, opening the door more. “Is he gone?”

Chiz shrugged.

“Okay, well,” said Brendon. “I just thought I’d warn you. Bob Bryar showed up an hour ago. Spencer is trying to get him to fight you.”

Mike appeared at Brendon’s side. Brendon screamed and fell to his knees.

“Fight me?”said Mike. “What did I do?”

“Holy shit!” said Brendon, cowering. “Invisibility!”

“He can see through walls too,” added Chiz. “It’s pretty cool.”

“Can you see through clothing as well?” Jon stood at the door. “Awesome.”

“Not really,” muttered Mike. He shook his head. “Why does Spencer want Bob Bryar to fight me?”

“Because Bob Bryar will win.”

“Because Bob Bryar always wins.”

Chiz got up and climbed the stairs to stand behind Mike. “Because he’s scary?”

“No.” Jon laughed. “Because he’s irresistible.” He had a light, faraway look in his eyes.

There was a noise behind them in the kitchen. Brendon and Jon rushed into the room. Chiz followed behind Mike, hands behind his back in case Spencer knocked him down the stairs again.

Bob Bryar was standing in the kitchen. “Spencer Smith, you have to let Chiz go.”

Spencer nodded. “Okay.”

Mike and Chiz and Jon and Brendon stared. Bob smiled at them. “Hello.”

“Hiiii,” they breathed.

“Spencer going to let you go home.”

“Okay,” said Mike and Chiz, nodding.

“Yes, I am,” said Spencer, nodding again.

“And Chislett’s never going to tell anyone who Spencer’s weakness is, are you Chislett?”

“No way,” said Chiz, shaking his head. “I’m never going to tell, not ever. Never.” He had never felt so powerless in his life.

“And Spencer, you’re going to stop worrying because Chiz is a good guy and he will not sell your weakness out.”

“Yes, I will,” nodded Spencer.

“I won’t,” agreed Chiz. “I’m a good guy.”

“Great,” said Bob. “Then I’ll just take Chiz and Mike home now.”

“Okay,” nodded the Panic boys.

“Bye Chiz,” added Brendon. “I’ll miss you!”

“I’ll miss you too,” said Chiz, who was unable to stop staring at Bob.

Bob rolled his eyes. “And we’re taking your car, Ryan.”

“The hell you are,” shouted Ryan from the living room.

“Can we borrow it? I’ll bring it back as soon as I drop them off.” Bob turned around. Spencer, Jon and Brendon gaped. Chiz tried to stop himself from admiring Bob’s strong shoulders. He was failing. Bob was irresistible.

Ryan sighed loudly. “Fine.”

Mike ran home. Bob drove Michael home. His power of suggestion did not run through cars, but did run through cops and other drivers. By driving far above the speed limit, they managed to make it back to Chicago only an hour after Mike.

“You won’t tell though, won’t you?” asked Bob. “Spencer and his weakness could be in terrible danger if they get found out.”

“I won’t,” said Chiz. Bob had turned off the charm, though he was still feeling a little smitten. But he wouldn’t tell. He wouldn’t. “I don’t know why everyone thinks I’m so untrustworthy.”

“It’s a dangerous thing for you to know. He’s very protective, of course. And you’re from Australia,” said Bob, entering the city streets of Chicago at approximately eighty miles an hour. “I guess that’s their own prejudice.”

“Oh.” It was sad, really. William had promised him that to join their band was to join the Decaydance family, a family who would take care of him and throw him awesome birthday parties. Thus far all he’d gotten was his sleep interrupted twice and locked in Panic’s basement as well falling temporarily in love with Bob Bryar and finding out he was Mike Carden’s weakness. He was still worried about what the latter entailed.

“They’ll get used to you,” said Bob as they took a shortcut through the middle of Memorial Park, “they’re a special group of boys, they need time to adjust.”

Chiz snorted. “Very special.”

“It’s not easy being a superhero and a rockstar,” said Bob. “And you know, Panic are still teenagers. Teenagers are crazy. Their brains are still developing.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Chiz. “I hope someday Spencer trusts me.”

“He will.” Bob pulled up to the curb in front of William’s apartment. “Don’t worry about that. Weaknesses get found out all the time. They stay pretty safe.”

“That’s good,” said Chiz. “I was worried.”

Bob smiled at him and they climbed the stairs up to William’s apartment in silence. William threw the door open. “Bob Bryar!” he cried. “My hero!” He threw his arms around Bob’s neck. “You saved my guitarists!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Bob. He looked embarrassed. “Let us in.”

William buried his face in Bob’s shoulder. “I knew you’d save them, I knew you could do it, thank you, thank you. I was so worried.”

Bob swung William up in his arms and walked inside the apartment. He deposited William on the dining room table. “Of course I’d save them.”

Butcher was sprawled out across William’s couch, watching America’s Next Top Model reruns. Sisky had fallen asleep on him. “Chislett!” Butcher hailed him. “I knew someone would save you. Come sit, have a drink.”

Chiz shook his head. “Where’s Mike?”

“Out on the balcony. He’s getting drunk.” Butcher frowned. “He’s pissed that he couldn’t save you. What’s the deal with that anyway?”

Chiz frowned and stepped outside. Mike was sitting against the wall of the apartment, staring off into the city.

“Hello,” said Chiz.

“Hello,” said Mike. He drummed his fingers against a bottle of wine.

Chiz sat down next to him. Chicago was beautiful at night.

“Do I have to sleep with you?” he asked.

Mike choked. “God, no. No. Is that was Spencer was doing with his weakness? Oh god. No. Weaknesses can be friends. Should be. We’re- god, really? No wonder he was so fucked up about it. No, dude, no, don’t worry.”

“Okay, good.”

Mike passed him the bottle of wine. Chiz took a sip.

“So I can’t save you if our band gets in trouble.”

“It’s okay,” said Chiz, handing the bottle back to Mike. “Bob Bryar can. Don’t worry about me.

He paused. Mike took another sip and passed the bottle back.

“It’s weird.”

“Sounds great, doesn’t it? I’m completely powerless to you.”

“Yeah,” said Chiz, “and I can school you at guitar.”

Mike laughed.

1. The Academy Is - Superman
2. Thank you to hatoyona for beta-ing, kitchen-flailing, watching Disney Channel with me, and coming up with Spencer Smith's superpower. That's right. Jasbah is the real genius of this operation.
3. This stemmed from the fact that if you look at my TAI fics closely you will notice that I consistently do not acknowledge Mike Carden's existence. Well no longer!
4. Some of you may be wondering I didn't just write a sequel to zombie love fic. I tried. It contained the line It was all a bit like The Shining except instead of Jack Nicolson, there were a lot of zombies to deal with. Brendon tried to fit in. He was the little kid, truckin’ around on his tricycle. Sometimes literally and so, you see, was doomed.
5. Happy Halloween!