Every Word Not Spoken To You 7/8

[turps33]

When he finally wakes up the next day, Ryan almost immediately goes out, looking for Pete. It takes almost an hour to find him. Even longer to explain how and why he’s needed to watch Mikey, and then to get back to the room. Where they find Spencer watching Mikey, who’s curled up asleep on the bed.

It’s not an ideal situation having them here. Even if Ryan does trust Pete, and has no reason to mistrust Mikey, he’s still leaving them in his space. In Ryan and Spencer’s home, and that feels weird. Not that it’s their only option, the previous night they’d discussed taking Mikey with them, or taking him to stay with one of the others, or even that Spencer could miss his first class or go there alone.

Not that there’s a chance that Ryan would let those last options happen.

It’s why they’re walking to Phoenix House now, leaving Mikey still sleeping and Pete curled up and reading beside him. Something Ryan agreed to and logically knows is just fine. Still, he feels jumpy, like his skin is stretched too tight and nerves jumping.

Spencer gives Ryan a sideways look. “They’re not going to rob the place you know.”

“There’s nothing to rob,” Ryan says, and that’s true, there’s nothing of actual value to anyone but Ryan or Spencer themselves. Not that he’s even considered Pete taking off with the shoebox of old pictures or Mikey to run away with the spare clothes.

If he’s truthful with himself, Ryan knows this feeling has got everything to do with Spencer. How this class could be a step toward leaving. Something Ryan wants more than anything but dreads at the same time.

Spencer’s been at Ryan’s side always, a constant from the first day they met. They have lifetimes of memories between them, and right now Ryan’s thoughts go back to the past. Those first days of term when Ryan left his house carrying his new school bag and lunch pail, and saw Spencer along the street doing the same.

Except this time there’s no new bag or packed lunches. There’s just Spencer holding his new pen and, when they finally reach Phoenix House, hesitating at the entrance as if reluctant to go in.

Breaking the moment, Ryan says, “My offer still stands, if anyone is mean to you I’ll punch them in the face.”

As expected, Spencer laughs. “I’ll remember that.”

“Good.” Ryan pushes Spencer forward and then goes inside first, knowing Spencer will follow. “I’m going to grab a coffee while you coo over numbers.”

Spencer raises an eyebrow. “Coo, really? It isn’t me that had a love affair with a dictionary. That was cooing.”

“That was research,” Ryan replies, walking at Spencer’s side until they reach the door of the classroom. When they do, Ryan takes a step back, standing next to a lurid orange poster advertising the new poetry slam. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I know,” Spencer says, unexpectedly pulling Ryan into a brief hug. “I’ll see you when I get out.”

“Not if I see you first.” Ryan waits until Spencer’s inside, then turns, about to head for the common area when he sees Brendon and Jon, who’re watching from the end of the corridor.

Approaching, Brendon says cheerfully, “They grow up so fast.”

While Ryan’s sure he’s being joked with, at the same time, Brendon being part of the staff means Ryan’s unsure of his response. Something Jon seems to get as he says, “Ignore him, he thinks he’s being funny.”

“That’s because I am,” Brendon announces, and casually drapes his arm over Jon’s shoulders, propelling him forward. “And to show I’m also generous to a fault. I’ll get the coffee.”

Ryan decides to take Jon’s lead and says, “I guess he’s still trying to be funny.”

“He is.” Jon smiles at Ryan, leaning in close. “Between you and me, he’s still failing.”

“That’s because neither of you appreciate my witty sense of humor,” Brendon says, grinning as he looks between Ryan and Jon. “But I’m still going to get your coffee, because I’m nice like that.”

Ryan watches as Brendon hurries away, heading for the table at the back of the common area. “I think he needs to be cut off from coffee.”

“You’re not the first to think so.”

At this time of day the common area is empty, all the couches in their starting places and their cushions lined up and perfect. Later that will change, the people who use the center creating their own groupings to talk or watch the old TV in the corner.

Looking around, Jon heads for a couch close to a window, and then sits, making himself comfortable as Ryan does the same.

Ryan’s taken the opposite end, and sighs as he relaxes against the soft cushions, tired after a night of getting Mikey home and ensuring he’s okay, and that Spencer’s also taking his own antibiotics. For once it’s Ryan acting as nurse, and while he’s more than capable, and doesn’t mind the effort involved, it is tiring.

“Rough night?” Jon asks, and then almost immediately he says, “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I mean, I’m not asking for details or anything.”

Jon’s stumbling over his words in his haste to take back his question, as if he’s said something to offend. Ryan hurries to reassure him, hating seeing Jon look so worried. “You can ask, I don’t mind. But it’s nothing to do with me, just a rough night for a friend.”

“Are you talking about Mikey?” Brendon’s holding three mugs, two in one hand and the Big Bird mug in the other. Holding out the two towards Jon, Brendon says, “Lindsey was telling me about him this morning, how he’d been beaten up. How is he?”

“By a john, yeah.” Ryan scowls, remembering hearing Mikey yell, and running into the alley to find him unconscious, the john poised above him with his pants at mid thigh. “He’s okay, we left him in bed sleeping. Pete’s watching him.”

“I hope so,” Brendon says, all trace of happiness gone for the moment. “Mom always said when you’re sick sleep.....”

“Are you talking about Mikey Way?” Jon cuts in, and Ryan realizes that he’s made no attempt to take the mugs from Brendon, and has also gone pale. “Skinny with glasses, lives in tight pants and a band t-shirt?”

Brendon puts down the mugs, and sits on a low coffee table opposite Jon. “You know him?”

“His boyfriend was at Saint Mary’s, I was his nurse for weeks.” Jon turns to Ryan, says, “It is him, isn’t it?”

Ryan wishes he could say no, do something to wipe the look of dawning dismay from Jon’s face. But he can’t, and he says, “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Head in his hands, Jon sits still for a moment, then looks up. “I need to go home and tell Frank.”

Ryan’s putting pieces together in his head. How Mikey’s Frank had left the hospital and how Jon was moving someone into his spare room. “Frank’s your new roommate?”

Jon nods. “He was close to being able to leave and needed someplace private to think things through. So I offered him my spare room.”

“He needed to think things through?” Ryan can’t help feeling angry, picturing Mikey’s face as he recounted Frank’s words, and last night, when the effects of powerful painkillers brought down his walls and allowed his feelings of rejection to slip out. “Did he tell you what he said? Or what he accused Mikey of doing?”

“He said he reacted badly and said things he shouldn’t have.” Jon’s remained calm against Ryan’s anger, color returning to his face as he says, “He feels guilty for that, and think about it Ryan. There’s fault on both sides.”

Anger surging, Ryan snaps, “You think Mikey’s at fault for going out and working the street? When he was so desperate for money.”

“No.” Jon meets Ryan’s glare, not looking away. “I’d never judge anyone for that. But the way he told Frank wasn’t ideal.”

“I don’t think there is an ideal way to tell someone you’re a hooker.” His anger fading, Ryan tries to think of things from Frank’s perspective, when he was sick, stuck in hospital and being told his boyfriend had been selling his body. When he thinks of it that way Ryan can understand some of his anger, but not all. “What he said was still a dick move.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you. And if you ask him, Frank would agree too,” Jon says and looks at his watch. “If Lindsey asks tell her I’ve gone to see Mikey. Is there anything I need to take? Like food or meds?”

“No.” It’s an instinctive response, one made as Ryan realizes that Jon is starting to stand, apparently intending to go now. Which is something that can’t happen, because even if Jon does know Mikey, and only has his best interests at heart, Ryan’s immediate reaction is to close ranks. “You’re going now?”

“I intended to.” Jon sits back down, looking at Ryan. “Is that a problem?”

Ryan tries to think what to say, how to get Jon to stay away, even for a short while. Especially when there’s no real reason why Jon shouldn’t go to see Mikey, except for one thing. That Mikey needs a warning, and time to make his own decisions before being confronted with Jon, and by association, Frank.

In the end all Ryan can say is, “Mikey’s fucked up right now. He needs to sleep.” An excuse that’s so flimsy it could be bypassed in seconds. “You could go see him tomorrow.”

Jon doesn’t reply for a long time, but eventually he says, “Pete's going to stay until you get back?”

“Yeah.” Hating how Jon looks so worried, Ryan tries for reassurances, hoping it’s enough to buy some time. “He’s okay, he’ll heal.”

“Okay, I’ll wait,” Jon says. “But I am going to see him tomorrow, and I am going to tell Frank when I get home.”

It’s enough for Ryan, and he nods, then turns to Brendon when he asks. “This is the person you were talking about yesterday?”

Ryan has to think for a moment, as he works out that the conversation he had with Brendon really was yesterday, even though it feels like days have passed since. “Yeah, shit like this is why he needs to get out.”

“He will,” Jon says, sounding determined, and even if Ryan wants to tell him it’s not that easy, he’s relieved that Mikey’s got friends on his side.

Lost in thought, Brendon says, “This could be the right time to get in touch with his brother.”

“You mean Gerard?” Jon asks, and at Ryan’s nod, Jon says, “It’s too late for that. Frank’s already called him.”

In a way Ryan’s relieved, and hopes it’s a good thing and that Gerard coming here is the hand Mikey needs. But he’s also aware of the dangers, because Brendon was right. Mikey did have good reasons for running, and Gerard coming here could break him even further.

All Ryan can do is hope that it doesn’t.




“I guess it’s true, like does attract like,” Spencer says, scowling at Mikey. “If you go out tonight you’re an idiot. But you’re going to anyway, because you’re just like Ryan, cracked in the head.”

“Spencer calling you an idiot is the way he shows that he cares.” Ryan finishes fastening Mikey’s shoelace and then moves on to the other. “But you know your money will be down, and that I’m not about to let you out of my sight.”

Mikey does know he’ll lose money, it’s hard not to when even the simplest of things leave him hurting, and some things will be impossible due to his bruises and cast. He’s also grateful that Ryan will be sticking close by, even if he has been weird all day, looking at Mikey like he wants to talk before closing his mouth with a snap.

“I know,” Mikey says, wiggling his fingers and examining the bruising that creeps from under his cast. “I guess I should leave the sling off.”

“You need to leave it on until you get there at least,” Spencer says, and picks up a fracture care leaflet from the stack that’s piled on a shelf. “You read what this said, keeping the sling on helps the swelling.”

“Plus, some johns get off on the whole injured thing,” Ryan says, and eyes Mikey’s hair. “Want me to try and do something with that?”

Confused, Mikey looks at his reflection in the window, seeing that while his hair is a bit dirty, it’s no different than usual. “It’s supposed to look like that.”

“At least that means one less thing to grab from storage tomorrow,” Spencer says, his mouth curling up at one side. “You obviously don’t need a brush.”

Surprising himself, Mikey laughs, and for the first time in forever he feels like his old self for the briefest of moments as he jokes back. “Some people don’t brush their hair fifty times a day.”

“Fifty two,” Ryan says, tugging at Mikey’s t-shirt so it’s sitting just right. “He adds two for luck. Have you taken your pills? And you, Spencer?”

“Yes mom,” Spencer says with a grin.

“Yeah,” Mikey says, and right at this moment, he can believe that someone actually does care.

~~~~~

It turns out Ryan is right.

Mikey does make less money. In the few hours he’s been here he’s managed two blow jobs that have left his face aching, an off balance hand job and one fuck, which Mikey got through by mentally repeating that he’d chose this, that he was the one in control.

It helps that the others are so close. Ryan doing as he said and watching always, standing at the mouth of the alley when Mikey goes in, while both Bob and Ray are attentive. To the extent of taking up menacing positions when the hand job john protested Mikey’s clumsy technique and threatened non-payment.

Them being there helps with the cold and the pain that’s breaking through as the painkiller wear off, and Mikey’s left struggling to hold on as long as he can. He’s getting close to giving in and going back when he sees another john approaching, this time on foot.

As always they all go into action, assuming their poses and roles in the hope of attracting attention. Aware of how battered he is, Mikey hopes for another john who gets off on bruises, or some kind of sympathy vote, and he watches the john get closer.

The john has his hands deep in his pockets, his head down and shoulders rounded, but even so. Mikey’s stomach sinks as he approaches, disbelief striking hard as he prays that he’s not seeing who he thinks.

It’s a futile hope, and Mikey knows it. No matter how long it’s been, how many months since he’s seen his brother, Mikey would recognize him anywhere, even in the dark and at this distance.

“Gerard,” Mikey says quietly. The word feels wrong in his mouth, made awkward when previously Mikey said the name often, Gerard a consistent center of Mikey’s world. Until he wasn’t, and Mikey’s had to fight to live through that loss.

And now Gerard’s here. When Mikey’s standing on a street selling his body, bruised and broken, lubed up, with the taste of come in his mouth.

Mikey needs to run. Now. Before Gerard can see him, but is physically unable to leave. The truth is, Mikey needs to see Gerard. To talk to him and hear him speak, to have him close enough to physically touch.

“Mikey?” Ryan’s act drops as he looks over to Mikey, the slink going out of his walk as he moves close. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Gerard.” Mikey’s staring, watching Gerard get closer, and it feels like his heart is beating out of his chest. “He’s supposed to be at home. He can’t be here.”

“That’s Gerard?” Ryan sounds stricken, and reaches out for Mikey. “Jon said he wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”

“You knew?” Abruptly, Mikey pulls away from Ryan. “You knew and didn’t tell me he was coming?”

“I only found out earlier today.” Ryan’s looking between Mikey and Gerard, who’s close now, and is starting to look up. “I was going to tell you. Frank called him.”

It’s yet another betrayal, and Mikey’s kicking himself for thinking he’s worthy of trust. He keeps taking steps back, and then, from over the road, Gerard looks in Mikey’s direction.

“Mikey?” Gerard’s eyes widen, his first word barely audible, then he’s yelling, running across the road. “Mikey. That’s you. Oh fuck. I’ve found you at last.”

Gerard’s got his arms outstretched, reaching for Mikey.

Mikey turns and runs.




It should be impossible to lose Mikey. They’re all fitter than him right now, but somehow, they manage to do so.

Ryan feels guilty, hating been part of deception, even if it was by mistake and not actual intention. Arriving back at Fifth after searching, he finds Bob and Ray, who’re standing either side of Gerard.

In the half hour since he’s been here it looks like Gerard’s aged years. Wild-eyed, he keeps looking back at the alley as if expecting Mikey to run back out, but Ryan knows that he won’t. Back there are too many small streets to get lost in, and multiple places Mikey could hide.

“I need to keep looking.” Gerard’s addressing Ray, who’s got his hand on Gerard’s arm. “Mikey’s my brother, I need to find him.”

“And you will,” Ray says, and even if he doesn’t know the full story, it’s one that’s been repeated enough that Ryan knows he’ll be putting pieces together.

“But not by running around here by yourself.” Bob’s got his jacket zipped high to his neck and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’ll get yourself killed and won’t help anyone.”

Gerard starts to move, as if thinking of breaking free from Ray. “I can’t just stop looking and go back. He needs me.”

Ryan agrees. While he’s seen Gerard for all of a few frantic minutes before he ran off to try and find Mikey, it’s enough that Ryan’s confident he’s not the man Mikey was forced to fun from. Trusting his own snap judgment, Ryan says, “I’ll take you to the center, he could have gone there.”

“And we’ll put the word out,” Bob says. “Someone will see him.”

“When they do someone will find you.” Ray squeezes Gerard’s arm and then looks toward Ryan. “You okay with this?”

It’s a question that blankets a lot, but Ryan can truthfully say, “Yeah,” and then, to Gerard, “Come with me.”

At first they walk in silence, but that’s not going to last. It’s obvious Gerard’s got questions, and eventually he says, “You’re Mikey’s friend.”

As lead ins go it’s not what Ryan expected, or technically a question at all, but Ryan still tries to think of an answer. How to explain that while he’s known Mikey all of a few days and known of him for just a bit longer, he does call him a friend. It’s just how it is between the people Ryan knows, where friendships are forged fast and life is lived on a day to day basis. Explaining that to someone on the outside will be complicated, and in the end Ryan settles for, “Yes.”

“I’m glad he’s got you.” Gerard lapses into silence again, and then says, “How is he?”

This is the question Ryan expected, but even so, he’s angry at Gerard for asking. There’s multiple replies going through Ryan’s head, but restricts himself to saying, “He got beaten up by a john last night, how do you think he is?”

Gerard visibly flinches at Ryan’s choice of words. “I know, stupid fucking question.”

Ryan doesn’t feel guilty for what he said, or for the anger that he’s feeling, but Gerard’s sadness is all too apparent, along with his confusion at being in a situation so out of his control. It’s why Ryan says, “He’ll be okay, physically anyway. Lindsey’s a good doctor.”

“Lindsey?” Gerard prompts, and Ryan checks over the road, looking for the car he knows will be waiting.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Leaving Gerard, Ryan runs across the road, approaching the driver’s side window. It rolls down slowly, and one of Walt’s men holds out his hand.

Silently, Ryan hands over nearly half of his earnings, protection money and a tiny amount toward the overall debt he owes Walt.

The man in the car takes the money, slipping it into a bag, and then starts the engine as he addresses Ryan. “I’ve been hearing rumors about new meat on your block. As it seems to have slipped your mind to keep us informed, I’ll tell Walt. I’m sure he’ll be wanting to recruit.”

“You can tell Walt to stay the fuck away from him.” It’s a stupid thing to say, threats against Walt never end well. But right now Ryan doesn’t give a damn, and he turns away without another word.

“I never meant to hurt him, you know.” As soon as Ryan gets close, Gerard starts talking, launching from a point that seems to bear no relation to what was mentioned before. “I was so caught up in my own shit I didn’t notice, and when I did he’d already gone.”

It’s a story Ryan’s heard before, parts from Mikey and Pete and countless others who work on these streets. Where the details may be different but the common bond is that somewhere, at some point, someone didn’t care.

“Sometimes the worst hurt is caused by not seeing,” Ryan says, and all the while he’s watching Gerard, taking in his reactions. “You’re not using anymore.”

“One hundred and twenty seven days now,” Gerard says, his hint of pride vanishing as he keeps talking. “I wish I could say it happened because of Mikey leaving. But it didn’t. It took a few weeks after that. Even more until I could persuade Linda to admit Frank had called her a few times.”

At Ryan’s blank look Gerard explains, “Linda’s Frank’s mom. She busted my ass the first time I went to her place.”

“She sounds like a good mom,” Ryan says, keeping his own envy hidden.

“She is,” Gerard agrees, and then says. “It’s me that fucked up.”

“But you’re making it right now,” Ryan points out. “That’s what you have to hold on to.”

“That’s hard to do when Mikey’s still missing,” Gerard says, and when Ryan shivers he starts to unfasten his coat. “It’s fucking freezing. You should wear this.”

Ryan sees the diversion, but still, Gerard’s words reminded him how cold it actually is, even as he says, “I’m okay.”

“It looks like it.” Gerard slips off his coat, and underneath he’s wearing a hoodie. “I’ll be fine in this, take it.”

Ryan’s not about to say no. Taking the coat he huddles into its warmth, zipping it up to his neck and pulling his hands into the sleeves. “Thanks.”

Gerard flashes a smile and then says, “Before, you were talking about Lindsey.”

“She runs Phoenix House, She’s awesome.” Ryan could also say that she’s scarily smart, intimidating, and has saved both his and Spencer’s lives, but he won’t. That would be exposing more of Ryan than he’s comfortable with right now.

“We’re going there, right?” Gerard says. “What is it, some kind of hospital?”

Ryan thinks about the center and how it’s so important to so many people. A safe place that seems to stretch and grow always, becoming what’s needed. “It’s a clinic, well part of it is. There’s also a residential unit and meeting rooms and anything else that Lindsey thinks that we need.”

“And you think Mikey will be there?”

“He could be,” Ryan says, and hopes that it’s true.

~~~~~~

Mikey isn’t, but he’s one of the few that’s not.

Sitting on a couch with Spencer and Jon, Ryan watches Lindsey talk to Gerard while Frank paces the room. Each time he makes a circuit past Ryan, Ryan frowns, and eventually Spencer says, “Giving him the evil eye won’t change things.”

“He’s a good guy.” Jon looks past Spencer toward Ryan. “And he loves Mikey, a lot.”

Ryan wants to dispute that, allowing residual anger to take over, but he’s aware that a lot of that anger is misplaced. Frank an available focus when most of Ryan’s targets are internal, or out of his reach.

The next time Frank walks past Jon reaches out, grabbing his arm and says, “Sit down before you fall down.”

Ryan expects Frank to sit on a different couch, or on the low table, but he squashes himself into the gap between Jon and Spencer. He lands hard, like once he was given an excuse to stop it was impossible to stay upright.

Jon studies Frank, whose breathing is labored. “You should have stayed home.”

“Not going to happen,” Frank says shortly. Despite the chill there’s a sheen of sweat on his face, and Frank’s hand trembles as he goes to wipe it away. “I need to find Mikey and make things right.”

“Then you shouldn’t have said what you did in the first place,” Ryan says, the words bursting out, but he’s not about to say sorry.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Frank yells back, and it feels like the whole room goes silent, every person looking their way as Frank repeats, softer, “I know that, and when I find him I’m going to say sorry, and then kick his ass for being so stupid.”

Spencer reaches to the side, his hand on Ryan’s leg, as if reminding him not to react badly. Not that Ryan intends to when it’s all too apparent how much Frank cares.

“Don’t kick him too hard, I only put him back together last night.” Clutching a mug of coffee, Lindsey sits on the coffee table. She’s wearing a hoodie over pajama pants and her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, but she also looks wide awake as she looks significantly at Gerard until he walks over and sits too.

“I wish you’d teach me how to do that,” Jon says, sounding impressed.

“Work here for a few years and you’ll learn,” Lindsey says with a smile, and then, “This is what’s going to happen. I’ve called Brendon and he’ll be here soon. When he is we’ll go out and search in pairs. I’ll take Gerard, Ryan, you go with Jon and Brendon will stay here with Frank and Spencer.”

Both Spencer and Frank start to protest, but Lindsey holds out her hand, stopping them mid-word. “Neither of you are fully fit and I need someone from staff to stay here.”

“That makes no sense,” Spencer says, matching Lindsey’s look with one of his own. “My arm’s okay and I’ve been out every night since, I can go out and look for Mikey.”

“If he can I can too,” Frank says, and starts to struggle up.

“No you can’t.” Spencer cuts Lindsey off as she starts to speak and gently pushes Frank back. “You’re on the verge of dropping now. You stay here with Brendon and I’ll go search with someone else. That way we’ll cover more ground.”

Lindsey nods slowly. “You could ask Alicia, I heard music from her room when I came past so I know she’s awake.”

“That works,” Spencer says, and looks from Frank to Gerard. “We’ll find him.”

“We will,” Ryan agrees, and then stands.

~~~~~~

Spending time with Jon feels weird. Ryan’s not used to being alone with someone who doesn’t work on the streets, and while he knows it should make no difference, he can’t help feeling it does.

It seems like there’s part of Ryan’s life he should try to keep hidden. Where even if Jon knows what Ryan does and helps out at the center, he’s never actually been an actual part of the streets. For that Ryan’s thankful, but also left floundering, unsure what to say.

For a while they’ve been walking in silence, following a route that takes in an area with derelict buildings and also, only streets away, a strip mall, both of which have plenty of places to hide yourself away. Methodically checking each doorway they pass, Jon suddenly says, “You don’t have to censor yourself around me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Ryan says, and not only for Jon’s sake. Ryan likes being around someone who doesn’t know everything, the details of what Ryan does and allows to be done to him in return. It makes Ryan feel almost normal, and the only way to maintain that is to keep part of himself pushed to one side.

Jon gives Ryan a long look, then says, “My cat climbed up the curtains last night. Then she wouldn’t come down, just sat there yowling.”

“That’s because cats are evil,” Ryan says with conviction. “Dogs don’t climb curtains.”

“But they do eat your slippers.” Jon sighs, sounding mournful. “I liked those slippers, they were comfortable.”

“They weren’t knitted were they?” Ryan can’t resist asking, and is pleased when Jon laughs in response.

“No. I haven’t found any awesome ugly slippers yet.” Jon pouts exaggeratedly, his eyes gleaming as they walk. “Obviously I need to learn how to knit.”

“You’re a nurse,” Ryan says, tucking down his chin into Gerard’s jacket against a cold breeze. “You know how to sew, knitting should be a cake walk.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jon says, a grin breaking through. “But I am an awesome nurse and that means awesome fingers. I’d probably be able to knit a mohair sweater dress in a day.”

“I’m sure it’ll look lovely on you.” Ryan manages to hide his own smile for all of a few seconds, and then he’s laughing with Jon too, relishing these moments where what he does isn’t relevant at all.

Of course it’s something that can’t last. Even if they’re not talking about Ryan they are looking for Mikey, and there’s no hiding from just why he ran. Still, it takes a long time before Jon changes the subject and says, “How long have you actually known Mikey?”

The question is hesitant, as if Jon’s unsure about asking, but Ryan’s got no problem replying when the focus is Mikey. “Not long. Pete got to know him first, and a few days ago I said he could stay with me and Spencer.”

“The day he told Frank.” Jon’s utterly serious now, his brow furrowed as he says, “You invited him back without knowing him.”

Ryan could tell about passing it on, and how at the start Pete was there for Ryan and Spencer, but that’s not a story for now. Tonight is about Mikey, and Ryan says, “He needed a place to stay.”

Jon’s staring at Ryan, as if he can’t look away. “You’re a special guy, Ryan.”

Awkward, Ryan hides behind glibness. “That’s what they all say,” but Jon’s not looking away, is still staring at Ryan like he’s something worth seeing. Eventually Ryan says simply, “Thank you.”




“You’re kind of predictable,” Pete announces, and drops down on the bench next to Mikey. “Not that I’m complaining, it’s too cold to be wandering around. But you do realize how dangerous it is here at night?”

“There’s been five johns in the toilet already,” Mikey says, not looking at Pete. “And I think someone’s having sex in the bushes.”

“Probably.” Pete slides along the bench, fitting his body against Mikey’s. “I’m taking this as you wallowing and not some death wish, because if it’s that I’ll be pissed.”

The warmth of Pete’s body feels good, and Mikey sags against him as he says, “I don’t have a death wish.”

“So you’re wallowing, I can deal with that.” Pete puts his arm around Mikey, holding him close. “I bumped into Alicia and Spencer, they told me some details.“

“They told you that Gerard’s here?” It’s something Mikey’s still having trouble believing. When he thinks of it now he’s half convinced that seeing Gerard was some hallucination. Except that deep down Mikey knows that it wasn’t. He can remember every moment, how Gerard looked and sounded, and the most damning of all, there’s no way a hallucination could cause so much hurt.

“They told me.” Pete curls the fingers of his free hand around Mikey’s, rubbing them gently. “Running is a scary thing, likes tongues against ice, sometimes you get stuck.”

Mikey picks through the words, trying for meaning. Then admits, “I don’t get what you mean.”

“I mean that sometimes things can change, and that while it’s okay to be scared, it’s also okay to go back.” Pete rests his head against Mikey’s shoulder, a human blanket against the cold. “Don’t make my mistake, don’t be afraid to fight for your home, wherever that is.”

That’s something Mikey does understand, and he admits, “I miss them both. Frank and Gerard. So fucking much.”

“Good,” Pete says, and squeezes Mikey tight before standing. “Because I called the center and said you were here. Now you can tell him that too.”

Pete slips away into the darkness, and Mikey’s left looking at Gerard, who’s approaching slowly, as if afraid Mikey will run off again. Since the last time he saw him Gerard’s lost his coat, and is wearing a hoodie, an old one of Mikey’s.

“I didn’t think you’d mind.” Gerard’s closer now, and he indicates the hoodie with his hand, never looking away from Mikey. “I found it in your room, under the bed.”

“I couldn’t find it,” Mikey says, and it feels like the world around him is fading, the only thing that matters Gerard. “You can keep it if you want.”

Even closer now, Gerard’s only a short distance away, and Mikey can see that his eyes are wet, Gerard’s throat moving as he swallows and says, “Mikey? Oh god, I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

And all Mikey can do is reach out, waiting as Gerard runs the last few meters and falls to his knees, gathering Mikey in a tight hug and holds on.




~~~~~~

Every time he’s allowed himself to imagine talking to Gerard, Mikey’s never set the meeting in a park. Especially one in the middle of the night, where they’re both freezing and Mikey’s aware of the people lurking in shadows.

The best thing to do would be to get up and go, but Mikey can’t seem to do so. He’s huddled in close to Gerard, sharing body heat and luxuriating in being so close to his brother.

“We need to get out of here.” Gerard sounds as reluctant as Mikey feels, but he sits up and starts to pull off his hoodie, revealing a t-shirt underneath. “Put this on first.”

Mikey shakes his head. “You’ll get cold, you should be wearing your coat.”

“I gave it to Ryan.” Gerard bundles up the hoodie, and against Mikey’s protests, feeds it over his head. “Arm in, then we can get out of here.”

The hoodie is one of Mikey’s old favourites, and pulling it on reminds him of home, and especially of Gerard. “This smells like you.”

“I forgot to put on deodorant,” Gerard says, busy tucking the empty arm of the hoodie into its pocket.

Mikey gives Gerard a look. “You wear the stuff now?”

“Fuck off,” Gerard says easily, and then his face falls, as if he’s realized what he’s just said. “I don’t....”

“I know.” Mikey cuts Gerard off, hating that what was so comfortable has become instantly awkward. “I’m not running again.”

“Thank fuck.” Gerard wraps his fingers around Mikey’s arm, as if unable to stop touching. “These last months without you have sucked, I missed you every day.”

It’s what Mikey’s needed to hear, but that doesn’t mean that everything is fixed. The reasons he left are still hanging, and Mikey says, “I hated you when I left.”

“I don’t blame you,” Gerard says, his voice bleak. “I hated myself too.”

That Gerard thought that way isn’t a shock, but Mikey needs to clarify details, and he grabs hold of Gerard when it looks like he’s about to step away. “I hated the person you were when you used, but I never stopped loving you. Ever.”

“I’ve stopped,” Gerard says. “The drinking and drugs. I know it doesn’t fix everything.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” There’s no way it can. Mikey’s changed too much, even before he ended up selling his own body, and that’s another thing he has to address before he loses his nerve. “I’ve been working the street, Gerard. Selling myself to strangers for money.”

“I know,” Gerard says. “It doesn’t make a difference.”

Mikey can’t agree. It does make a difference, a huge one, because Gerard doesn’t know what Mikey’s actually done. Which is why Mikey needs to tell him, so if Gerard’s disgusted he can walk away now, while Mikey still remembers how to pretend not to care. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

Gerard puts his arm around Mikey and says, “So tell me.”




“They found Mikey,” Pete announces, appearing around the corner as if he was sure Jon and Ryan would be there. “At least, I found him, but he’s with Gerard now.”

“Is he okay?” Jon asks, sounding relieved. “I can go see him now, I have to.”

Pete shakes his head, pulling his hands up into his sleeves. “His brother’s got it covered. I stayed and watched for a while to make sure.”

“He’s not going to run off and leave Mikey?” As much as Ryan trusts Pete he still has to ask, vowing if Pete hesitates at all Ryan’s going to go and find out for himself.

“I don’t think so,” Pete says, and then amends that to, “No, he’s not. I’ve got a feeling.”

It would be easy to dismiss Pete’s feeling, but it’s enough for Ryan, and he knows that for tonight, Mikey’s going to be safe. Which means all Ryan has to do is find Spencer and then head off for home himself.

“See you,” Pete says then, and he pulls Ryan into a quick hug, doing the same to Jon before hurrying away.

Jon looks at his watch, and as relieved as Ryan is that Mikey’s been found, he’s also disappointed that his time with Jon has to be close to an end.

“It’s late,” Jon says, and Ryan’s waiting for him to say that it’s time to go home. “But there’ll be diners open, if you want something to eat.”

It’s not what Ryan expected, and unsure of where this going, all he can say is, “I need to get back.”

“It’ll be my treat,” Jon says, “If you’re worried about paying.”

“I’m not.” Ryan starts to walk, frustrated that money’s been mentioned. It’s enough to spoil the formally easy atmosphere, something so insignificant enough to show the differences between them. “I can pay for myself, I don’t need your charity.”

Jon steps in front of Ryan, stopping him from walking. “Buying you a coffee isn’t charity. It’s me not wanting to go home.”

Ryan makes a move to get past Jon, needing to get away before Jon sees that Ryan’s meant for the streets only, and not easy friendship. “Then go back to the center, there’ll be people there still.”

“You’re not going to make this easy are you?” It sounds like Jon’s more talking to himself, even though he’s looking directly at Ryan. “I don’t want to go back to the center. I want to spend more time with you. And if you don’t want me to buy, fine, we can just keep walking.”

“You want to spent time with me?” It’s something Ryan’s still having trouble understanding, but he does like Jon, and eventually Ryan allows. “I suppose one drink won’t hurt. But I’m buying.”

Jon smiles, says, “Deal.”




His arm wrapped in a plastic bag, Mikey’s been soaking in the tub for over an hour.

The hot water eases the aches in his body, and he’s relishing feeling so clean, but mostly he’s stalling when he has to see Frank. Not that Mikey doesn’t want to -- he does, a lot -- but it means yet more confrontations, and right now Mikey doesn’t feel ready.

He needs just a little more time, hidden away in this anonymous hotel room with Gerard, where Mikey’s been able to gather his strength, and also sleep well, for the first time in what feels like forever.

“I got you some clothes,” Gerard says, entering the bathroom. Setting them on the cistern, he hovers close to the door, and even through the blur of a world without glasses, Mikey can see Gerard’s face fall.

“They’ll all heal.” The bruises on Mikey’s chest stand out starkly, bubbles lapping against them as Mikey moves his hand in the water. “A few weeks at most.”

Gerard sits on the edge of the tub, not moving when bubbles coat the side of his pants. Reaching out, he rests his fingers against Mikey’s damp shoulder. “Frank’s just sent me a text, he’s on his way over.”

Mikey abruptly sits up, water cascading onto the floor and over Gerard. “He’s coming now?”

“I stalled him as long as I could.” Gerard grabs hold of Mikey’s glasses, handing them over as he says gently, “You need to talk to him, Mikey.”

“I was going to, just not right now.” His glasses on, the world comes back into focus, and Mikey’s facing the fact that Frank will be here any minute. It’s not giving Mikey enough time to work out what he wants to say and how to explain, or to prepare himself if all Frank wants to do is say his goodbyes.

“What if he can’t handle what I’ve done?” Mikey says, voicing his fear.

“Then he’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve you,” Gerard replies instantly. He stands, brushing off stray bubbles and takes hold of a towel. “But he will cope, because he’s head over heels for you. Always has been.”

It would be easy to pick holes in Gerard’s statement, but Mikey doesn’t, instead clinging to the reassurances of his big brother. “I need to get dressed.”

“Yeah, you do,” Gerard agrees, and holds out the towel.

~~~~~~

With Gerard’s help Mikey’s fully dressed when there’s a knock at the door.

Sitting on the bed, he makes no move to answer, worry striking hard. Mikey jumps when Gerard stands and ruffles his hair, says, “Things will be fine. I promise.”

Mikey wants to believe him, but the fear of potential rejection is clinging as he worries at the bedcover with his thumbnail, snagging a thread.

A last concerned look and Gerard opens the door.

“You fucking, idiotic, moronic bastard.”

It’s the worst start Mikey could imagine, Frank yelling as he pushes the door wide open and stands staring at Mikey. Making a move toward him, Gerard freezes in place when Jon steps into view, shakes his head and mouths, ‘no.’

“Why the fuck did you run from Gerard? Or not come to Jon’s when he found you? I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I didn’t want him to know what I’d been doing, and I didn’t know if you even wanted to see me.” While Mikey’s not yelling he’s getting annoyed at Frank for reacting so badly, and especially for not getting why Mikey’s been so afraid of them meeting. “The last time you saw me you told me to get out.”

“Because you’d just told me you’d been hooking.” Frank kicks at the door and then takes a visual effort to relax, taking in a deep breath as he says to himself, “Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

“How was it supposed to go?” Mikey asks, and he’s staring directly at Frank, taking reassurance in the way he’s looking into the distance, the way he gets when he’s trying for the words that are important.

“It was supposed to be me saying I’m sorry, and that I’ve missed you like crazy and that you can never leave me again.” Frank takes a step into the room, wheezing slightly as he turns his focus to Mikey and states, “Whose arm do I have to break?”

“You’re too late,” Mikey says, flexing the fingers of his broken arm. “The john who did this had the shit kicked out of him already.”

Frank doesn’t react to the terminology, but he does say, “Good. I want to shake the person’s hand who did it.”

“People,” Mikey corrects, and he thinks about introducing Frank to Bob, Ray and Ryan, and all the other people who’ve become important so quickly. At first it doesn’t seem like a good fit, the two parts of Mikey’s life needing to be kept separate. But the more he thinks, the more he realizes that’s not true. While Mikey’s not proud of the things that he’s done, he’s not ashamed of the people he’s met, or that he went out to earn money when needed. “If you want I’ll introduce you.”

“I do want,” Frank says, and then, he’s running to Mikey, dropping to his knees for a hug that mirrors Gerard’s from the night before. Frank wraps his arms around Mikey and says, “I love you, so fucking much.”

Mikey sags in Frank’s hold, relief hitting hard as he says, “Love you too.”

Part Eight
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