[Bandslash, Multi-band] As Good as It Gets (1/3)
Title: As Good as It Gets
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Pete/Patrick
Genre: AU
Word Count: ~23,000
Disclaimer: This is all completely made up, except for the parts where these people actually exist.
Summary: Frank's a rock star. Gerard's a bodyguard hired to protect him. Together they fight crime. Shenanigans ensue.
Prompt: Bodyguard scenarios (See also Protectiveness)
Notes: Written for svmadelyn's Kink/Cliché Multi-Fandom Challenge. Major thanks to chebonne for looking this over for me. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Brian calls him early on a Sunday when Gerard's at his weakest, and Brian damn well knows it.
"What the hell do you want, Schechter?"
Gerard's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep, no coffee, and whatever the hell died in his mouth probably has relatives running around his building, so he doesn't really see the point of social niceties at the moment.
Brian never does, so Gerard's instantly on his guard when Brian clears his throat and asks, "What are you doing right now?"
It's as close as Brian ever comes to an actual greeting, or asking how someone's doing, which is odd enough. The real kicker, though, is that Brian honestly sounds interested in Gerard's answer. Almost as if he cares about whatever is going on in Gerard's life, and that's wrong on so many levels Gerard stops rooting through his kitchen cabinets for clean coffee filters.
"Brian?"
Gerard can faintly hear the sound of typing on Brian's end, which isn't surprising. Brian's the kind of guy who'd work through the apocalypse and then demand to know why everyone else was just standing around in a daze.
"I need a favor," Brian says. "And by 'I need a favor' what I really mean is that you owe me a favor."
Feeling around at the back of a shelf, Gerard hits coffee filter pay dirt and tucks his cell phone against his shoulder as he takes the container down and opens it. He can usually hold his own with Brian, but he's at a disadvantage without his first cup of coffee. "If you need to move a body, you might want to call Bob."
"He's busy with something else," Brian says a little distractedly, "and besides, he doesn't do close protection - “
"I quit for a reason," Gerard interrupts. The disaster that was the last time he worked for Brian was more than enough for him to decide that he was in the wrong line of work. "You do remember that, right?"
There's a moment of silence, and Gerard is about to declare a victory because Brian's the one who always bitches about the necessity of avoiding lawsuits. And, hey, Gerard's all for that, especially when it means he doesn't have to pull bodyguard duty for assholes.
"Favor." Brian's not going to let it go, Gerard can hear it in his voice. "You owe me one."
To be completely truthful, Gerard owes Brian a shitload of favors, but he's smart enough not point that out. He doesn't say anything more, and it isn't as though he actually thinks Brian will forget he's on the line if he stays quiet, but he figures it can't really hurt to see what will happen if he tries it.
Gerard takes extra care setting the filter in the coffee maker basket and measuring out the grounds, bottom lip caught between his teeth when he pours the water in because it makes more noise than he was expecting.
"I can hear you breathing, asshole."
Gerard rolls his eyes and fishes a pair of coffee mugs out of the sink. He eyes them critically and decides that he's not in the mood to risk accidentally killing him and Mikey and rinses them.
“I retired, remember?” Gerard asks, because he really did. He quit the glamorous and exciting life of the close protection officer to pursue the even more glamorous and exciting life of a starving artist. ”My license expired.”
Brian doesn't miss a beat. “Well then it's pretty damn convenient that I happen to have the renewal application right here.”
Gerard's not sure that's the way he'd put it, but it's really fucking obvious that Brian's not going to let him wriggle his way out of things so easily. He sighs and glances back towards the living room where he can see the crest of Mikey's hair poking up over the arm of the couch. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
"Gerard," Brian's quieter now, serious. "You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could handle it."
As much as Gerard would love to argue that, he can't. Brian asks a lot of the people he works with, but he always knows where the lines are drawn.
“Who is it?”
There's another pause, like Brian's trying to find a way to word his response and that's never a good sign.
"I can't tell you over the phone," Brian finally says. "Mikey might have heard something about it by now, though."
Gerard winces, staring at the coffee maker and willing the damn thing to go faster. If Mikey knows something about it, then whoever Brian wants him to protect is probably part of the music scene. And, seriously, there is just not enough money in the fucking world to make it worth Gerard's while to look after some diva rock star.
“Be here in an hour - ” Brian starts, and then stops himself like he suddenly remembers who he's talking to. "Okay, wait. Be here as soon as you can. I'll tell you everything you'll need to know then."
Brian hangs up without bothering to say goodbye. Gerard stands there holding his phone until he hears the couch springs squeak in protest in the living room and Mikey's sleepy voice asking if there's any coffee.
====
====
A couple of hours later Gerard's sitting across from Brian with Mikey sitting next to him calmly inhaling his first cup of Starbucks for the day.
“How the hell did you do this?” Gerard asks, staring at the shiny new license sitting on Brian's desk with Gerard's name, signature, and a crappy picture of him even though he can guess. Brian's a sneaky little fucker and Mikey isn't exactly immune to bribery. “Is this even legal?”
Brian's eyebrows go up in feigned surprise. “Of course it is, Gerard. You know everything I do is complete aboveboard.”
Mikey shifts in his chair, the only sign of his amusement, or maybe it's guilt at his act of utter betrayal, it's difficult to tell with him sometimes.
Gerard really should have known better since he's dealing with Brian. Brian is not only a sneaky little fucker, but a resourceful one. If he wants something, he gets it, even if it means he has to use less than legal means, or bribing Gerard's own flesh and blood.
“Right, right. My apologies, I didn't mean to malign your good name.”
Brian smiles, a quick flash of teeth, and just like that whatever passed for pleasantries between them are over as he opens a desk drawer and pulls out a folder he tosses across the desk at Gerard. “This is the reason I called you.”
There a few minutes of quiet broken only by Mikey sipping at his Starbucks and Brian's fingers tapping an impatient tattoo against the arm of his chair as Gerard skims through the folder's contents.
The first thing he sees is a black and white glossy photograph of the guy Gerard assumes Brian wants him to work for. From the looks of it the picture's from a professional photo shoot, designer clothes and shoes out of a fashion magazine that don't clash so much as have an unfortunate collision with the guy's tattoos and facial piercings.
The photographer was probably trying for something mysterious and enigmatic, a study of the tortured artist behind the music the kids seem to eat up these days. The effect is ruined, however, by the slight upwards twist at the corners of the guy's mouth and raised eyebrow that says he's perfectly aware how ridiculous he looks. Gerard stares for a moment, and then turns his attention to the next page.
The guy, one Frank Iero, is part owner of a small record label/clothing line/publishing company/Gerard doesn't really give a damn what else.
He really doesn't.
Iero, as Gerard finds out when he keeps reading, is also the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist in a punk/hardcore/whatever the hell else band. They've been earning the hearts and souls of the disaffected youth for a while before they caught the ear of a record executive for an independent label at a local show a couple of years back. The band seems to be tearing up the charts, and apparently some of their fans who were there with them at the beginning want, no surprise here, the band's goddamned blood for selling out.
As the band's frontman Iero's bearing the brunt of their fans' anger and disgust, but aside from that Gerard can't find anything in the file that someone would want to kill him for. If anything, everyone seems to love the guy, they're practically falling over themselves to say good things about him. Which. Gerard's going to reserve his judgment on that one until he meets the guy. Assuming he takes the job.
"What the hell did he do?" Gerard has to ask because as far as he's aware every band that's ever made it big has been accused of selling out at one point, but it's never really been cause to kill someone over.
Brian shrugs. "His fans are batshit insane, how should I know?"
Mikey shifts in his chair again, and clears his throat quietly.
"Mikey?"
Mikey sighs and rolls his eyes, and for someone who's barely three years younger than him, Mikey sure as hell knows how to make Gerard feel pretty damn old some days.
"He said some things in his book," Mikey says, and Gerard's brain automatically adds 'author' to the list of things he doesn't care about with regards to Frank Iero, "and some people didn't like it."
Gerard raises an eyebrow, waiting for Mikey to elaborate on whatever it was Iero said, but Mikey pries the lid off his Starbucks cup and peers inside like he thinks it's going to magically refill itself.
"Iero's a fucking rock star, Brian. I'm sure he can afford to hire someone else."
Brian nods like he's taking Gerard's opinion into account, which Gerard knows is total bullshit. “He could, but this is a little personal.”
Gerard glances over at Mikey, but he just shrugs.
“Threats have been made on his life,” Brian starts, eyes narrowing when Gerard opens his mouth to interrupt, “and while that isn't a new development, no one's ever gotten hurt before.”
Gerard sits up a little straighter at that. He knows that while people in Brian's line of work are expected to throw themselves in the line of fire to take a bullet for their employers, it's really fucking rare for them to actually need to do something as drastic as that.
“He had Worm working for him when someone tried something,” Brian sighs and runs a hand over his face, and yeah. Gerard understands. “He's all right, but he's going to out of commission for a while. The police are working to find whoever was responsible, but until then Iero needs someone with him, which is where the two of you come in.”
Gerard sighs and closes the folder, resting it on his knee. “No.”
He might have been willing to take the job on his own, but he's not going to drag Mikey into something with as much potential to get ugly as this does because he owes Brian more than his share of favors.
"Gerard - "
"Brian, no. I already told you, fucking no." Gerard glances at Mikey when he fidgets with his empty cup. “Find someone else. Get Bob to do it.“
“Bob's working a retrieval with Patrick, he's going to be out of town for at least another week.” Brian looks like he's digging in, and that almost makes Gerard smile. “"It's you or the Alexes, and you know those kids don't have the experience."
Brian's actually being generous. The Alexes are good with the tech side of things, and Brian likes to slip them into crowds at venues and clubs because he knows no one will look twice at them, but they're still just kids.
Fucking scrawny kids who aren't working for Brian for the job experience so much as the money and the opportunity to stick as close to Patrick as they can without crossing over into actual stalker territory.
“Colligan and Crawford - “
"Are idiots," Brian says, but Gerard catches the exasperated fondness, and being called an idiot is the highest sort of praise anyone can hope to get from Brian. “They still don't have the kind of experience this job calls for, you know that.”
Gerard closes his eyes, and Jesus, his fucking life.
He can feel Mikey, a silent, solid presence at his side waiting for his decision, and Brian's eyes on him. There are moments when it's too much to carry the weight of their faith in him, and he's afraid this is going to be just another time he lets them down.
"I'll get him killed, Brian." He's not fighting it anymore, but he needs to make sure Brian knows going in that he's making a huge fucking mistake. "I'll get him killed and all of his fans are going to go after you."
“They can try,” Brian says, and Gerard has absolutely no problem imagining Brian taking on Iero's fans with nothing but grit, determination, and a baseball bat.
Gerard opens his eyes and looks at Brian. “Fine. I'll do it, but Mikey - “
“I'm in too,” Mikey says before Gerard can finish talking, and when Gerard looks over he has the same expression on his face he usually does, but the look in his eyes says he's not backing down. “You're going to need help with this one.”
“I.”
Mikey raises an eyebrow at him. Gerard makes a face because Mikey's too damn smart by far, and if this job goes the way Gerard thinks it will, he's going to need more than Mikey's help.
“Fucking fine, but don't come crying to me if you get hurt over this guy.”
Mikey smirks because he knows he has Gerard wrapped around his freakishly long pinky. “Fine by me.”
Brian's watching the two of them with the fond sort of exasperation Gerard sees on his face whenever Brian has to deal with people he doesn't actually hate, but would rather not deal with on a regular basis.
Which, to be completely honest, is everyone Brian doesn't actually hate.
“Wonderful. Now that we've gotten that taken care of, why don't we discuss the details?”
Gerard scowls, but sits up to listen when Brian pulls out another folder and starts talking.
Iero's been relocated to a hotel after the attempt near his home, and, as Brian so helpfully informs him, they're basically on their own after that.
The police don't have the manpower to devote to looking after the hyperactive little freak full-time. They're already stretched thin with the uniforms they have watching Iero while Brian brings them up to speed on the situation.
Hyperactive, Gerard thinks, might actually be an understatement when it comes to describing Iero. He's a tiny little guy, which might explain why he puts so much of himself out there the way he does, and he also seems to lack all known forms of common sense when it comes to his own personal safety.
Just to let Gerard know what they're in for, Brian takes out a video tape he got out of someone who knows someone who knows someone because that's how Brian works. It's a bootlegged recording from one of the last shows Iero's band did. Gerard's a little awed, but mostly horrified.
“Holy shit.”
The sound quality on the tape is shit, so Gerard can't really tell if Iero's band is any good, but the video is clear enough for him to see what Mikey says is a typical live performance. And, if what the two of them are telling him is true, that's also the way Iero lives his life.
“How the hell are we supposed to keep him alive if he has a death wish?”
Mikey snorts, which Gerard chooses to ignore for the time being. There's just no way someone can throw themselves around like that and not expect to maim themselves, if not actually die.
“He doesn't have a death wish,” Brian says, a little too mildly for it to be anything but an act. “He's just - “
“Spirited?” Mikey pipes up, sharing a look with Brian.
“Enthusiastic?” Brian offers with a little frown.
Gerard's eyes narrow because seriously, if he wanted a comedy routine he would have gone to see Gabe and his little band of freaks.
“Brian - “
“There's one more thing,” Brian says, cutting Gerard off. “You might run into resistance. Iero's not the one hiring you two.”
Gerard stares at Brian, not quite understanding for a moment. “What do you mean - “
Mikey fiddles with the sleeves of his coat and Gerard makes a pained noise when realization hits. “Fucking hell, Brian. Not another one.”
Brian shrugs and manages to look genuinely apologetic. “His business partner has a vested interest in keeping him alive,” Brian pauses, eyes darting around the room. “And there's the fact that she was engaged to him at one point, so.”
Gerard sighs and rubs a hand over his face, wishing like hell he hadn't answered his goddamned phone that morning. “Just so you know,” he says, “there's not enough fucking money in the world to make this worth my while.”
Brian echoes his sigh, and when Gerard looks up Brian's smiling, tired and small. “There never is, Gerard. There never is.”
====
====
The hotel Iero's staying at isn't exactly the Hilton or whatever hotel a rock star like Iero would be expected to stay at, but it's nice enough to pass whatever standards the guy must have. Gerard likes it well enough until he sees the fire escape at the back when they check the building out.
“You're going after him if he's a runner,” Gerard tells Mikey, dropping his sunglasses back in place as he stares up at the zig-zagging path of the fire escape above them. “I'm not risking broken bones over the little shit.”
Mikey makes a face at him but doesn't protest. They both know Mikey's faster than him anyway.
Hotel security it pretty much what he expected, and so are the uniformed police officers standing guard outside the door to the suite Iero's manager booked for him. Fresh-faced and painfully young, Gerard can tell that they're probably rookies, too young to understand that they're pulling a shit job.
Mikey's mouth turns up on one side, and Gerard can feel a smile tugging at his own mouth when one of the uniforms studies their licenses identifying them as being legally (somewhat dubiously legally in Gerard's case) close protection security officers a little too intently. Gerard's not sure if it's to show them he's taking his job seriously, or his partner.
“Bodyguards, huh?” The uniform asks, and Gerard forces a polite smile when the kid, and he is a kid, gives them a skeptical look.
Gerard knows the two of them aren't what people typically expect when they think bodyguards, but hell. There are times when people need to go unnoticed. It's a little difficult to do that with someone the size of professional wrestler acting like a second shadow. And with the kind of clients Brian specializes in, brains come in handy more often than muscles anyway.
“Yeah,” Gerard answers. “It's a living.”
The kid looks like he's going to say something else, probably more along the lines of doubting their ability to protect Iero, but the other uniform shakes her head.
“Christ's sake, McDonald, let them do their jobs.”
Mikey coughs politely behind his hand, which earns him a look from her, but she doesn't say anything more about it as they hand things over to them.
“He has the rest of his band in there with him,” she says, giving Gerard a sympathetic look. “They're a bit of a handful.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Gerard mutters, staring at the door to the suite.
Iero answers when Gerard knocks, eyes narrowing when he sees them standing there instead of the uniforms. Gerard holds up his license for him to see and Mikey does the same.
“I didn't hire you.”
Gerard looks down at Iero, glad for his sunglasses because letting the guy you're supposed to be protecting see you rolling your eyes at him is generally considered bad etiquette.
“We know that,” Gerard says, trying not to let his annoyance show as he puts his wallet with his license of dubious legality away. “We're still getting paid to keep you safe, so, you know, humor us.”
Mikey shoots him a look, and Gerard shrugs. They're getting paid to make sure Iero doesn't die, not to coddle him or be his best friends. That shit costs extra.
Iero steps back to let them in, turning around before Gerard and Mikey are completely in the hotel room, stomping over to where his band are lounging all over the pace.
Mikey bumps Gerard's shoulder with his own, eyebrows raised and Gerard makes an effort to smile, or at least look like he wouldn't rather be anywhere else but where he is.
“Hey, you know who wear sunglasses inside?”
Gerard switches his attention to the speaker, one of Iero's bandmates hanging off the side of the couch like it's just too much damn effort to sit up.
Another of Iero's bandmates sticks his head up over the back of the couch. “Blind people and assholes?” he says, and then dissolves into seriously creepy laughter that sounds like someone taking a set of fingernails to a chalkboard.
Gerard glances at Mikey who is suspiciously quiet, even for him.
“That's hilarious.” Gerard starts a slow sweep of the main room of the suite while Mikey takes the back rooms. “You know what would be even funnier? If you came up with original material.”
Iero looks up from where he's making a call to someone on his cell phone. He doesn't exactly look thrilled with the two of them showing up, but Gerard ignores that to pull the curtains on the huge fucking windows closed. He doubts whoever is after the guy is going to go to the effort of using a sniper, but he's not about to gamble Iero's life on it.
“I'm an asshole, get used to it,” Gerard says flatly. It's going to take a fucking miracle for someone to kill Iero and the rest of his band before Gerard beats them to it, the way things are going.
Mikey comes out of the back rooms just as Gerard finishes his sweep and gives the okay. Gerard turns in time to see Iero staring down at his phone with a expression on his face somewhere between confusion and irritation.
He looks up when he realizes Gerard's watching him, gaze flicking between Gerard and Mikey. “Jamia hired you guys?”
“Apparently she doesn't want to run your company on her own,” Gerard explains, although he thinks she's more motivated by some inexplicable affection for Iero. “We're going to be with you until the police catch the people behind the attempt on your life.”
Iero stares at him, and Gerard stares right back.
“We'll be going now,” the guy with the weird fucking laugh says, grabbing the other guy on the couch by the arm. “See you later Frankie. Try not to die.”
Gerard watches as they kick the remaining guy sprawled on the floor into motion. The guy pulls himself to his feet, staggering after them, drunk or still half-asleep, it's impossible to tell.
“Yeah,” Iero calls after them, “I'll do my best. Fuckers.”
Mikey follows them to the door and then locks it.
“So. What now?” Iero asks.
Gerard raises an eyebrow, and ticks through the standard list of things he'd love for their clients to pay attention to the first time through. “If you need to go out somewhere, make sure one of us is with you. Stay away from the windows. Don't open the door to anyone you don't know until they show ID, and even then, don't. That's what we're here for.” Gerard gestures around the suite with a flourish. “Other than that, do whatever you'd normally do.”
Iero makes a face and points at a laptop sitting on a table, looking between Gerard and Mikey. “Is it okay with you guys if I get some work done?”
“Knock yourself out,” Gerard says, probably a little too enthusiastically when Mikey clears his throat pointedly. “As long as you don't tell anyone where you are, sure.”
Iero snorts and takes his laptop and a stack of folders with him into one of the bedrooms to work, shutting the door firmly after himself.
“Awesome,” Gerard mutters, scowling at Mikey who's obviously dying with laughter. “And you can shut the hell up, Mikey. You have first shift.”
It's not really necessary to tell Mikey that since he usually does anyway, but Gerard's annoyed and Mikey laughing his ass off over the whole thing isn't helping.
Mikey cracks a smile and goes to claim one of the armchairs for himself, leaving Gerard standing there like an asshole with his sunglasses, and Christ, Gerard's fucking life.
====
====
It's early enough in the day that Gerard won't need to sleep for a while, so he keeps Mikey company in the main room of the suite. Keeping Mikey company in this instance means Gerard's watching crappy cable while Mikey messes around on his laptop, smiling at whatever he's doing and looking like an evil mastermind of some sort, which means he's probably tormenting Brian.
Iero's on the phone talking to someone, and whatever he's talking about isn't making him a happy camper. He started yelling over half an hour ago, and things just seem to be getting worse.
Gerard changes the channel again, looking for a crappy movie instead of a crappy television show, when the door to Iero's room opens and he walks out.
He looks. He's smiling, and considering he was just telling someone to go to hell, it's a little disconcerting. More than a little, really, because he's also trying to look apologetic or something along those lines. At least that's what Gerard hopes that's what Iero's going for because otherwise it's just really fucking creepy.
To say that Gerard doesn't trust Iero or his fucking creepy smile would be a major understatement.
“I'm sorry I was an ass earlier.”
For one thing, he's really working the puppy dog eyes.
Mikey's not biting, but he does make the effort to act like he is and shrugs. “It happens.”
They've worked for people who ranted, screamed, and there were a few who even started throwing things at them, so it's not like Iero's any worse, but Mikey does have a point.
“It's fine,” Gerard says when Iero looks at him, like he knows Gerard's the one he has to keep an eye on.
He's only partly right, however. Mikey will follow Gerard's lead on most things, but he won't hesitate to call Gerard on his shit, and he's more than capable of handling whatever comes at him on his own.
“Yeah, well.” Iero shrugs, and raises his eyebrows, asking permission to join Gerard on the couch in his own hotel suite to watch crappy cable.
Gerard smiles, just a little, and tosses the remote to him.
Iero catches it, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes a seat against the arm of the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He spends a few minutes flipping through the channels idly, not really paying attention to what comes on.
Gerard waits patiently because he's been through this enough times to know what Iero's thinking, or close enough that it doesn't really matter. Mikey's reading a magazine, content to leave things to stay out of it.
“So how is this going to work?” Iero asks, fidgeting a little as he pauses in his channel surfing to look over at him. “You guys just what, camp out here and follow me everywhere?”
Mikey looks up, but doesn't say anything. He's watching Iero, head tipped to the side like he's figuring something out and Gerard knows his cue when he sees it.
“Basically, that's pretty much it.” There really isn't much to what they do when you break it down. Their job isn't all that different from what the guys Iero manager usually hires do, they're just a little more specialized. “We were hired to keep you safe.”
Iero stares at him, and Gerard shrugs. “We'll do our best to avoid interfering in your life as much as possible, but you need to listen to us when we tell you to do something.”
Iero shakes his head and turns back to the television. “You don't - “ He cuts himself off and runs a hand through his hair, glaring at some poor infomercial lackey promoting some kind of kitchen gadget. “You can use one of the bedrooms to sleep in, since you guys are stuck with me,” he finally says, glancing at Gerard. “I mean, this couch isn't exactly the most comfortable thing ever, so. You know.”
Mikey raises an eyebrow at Gerard, and really, it's not like Iero's offering them his firstborn. There are three bedrooms not in use, it's hardly like the guy's giving up something rare and precious. It's a beginning though, and Gerard's not stupid enough to toss it aside.
“Thanks, we appreciate it.”
He also isn't stupid enough to think that it means Iero's completely on board with the two of them being there.
Iero makes a noncommittal noise and goes back to flipping through the channels until he finds something that catches his interest.
While it's nice that Iero's making some sort of effort to look at the two of them as more than the hired help, it doesn't change the fact that Iero doesn't want them there. Gerard's dealt with situations like that before, and it usually means trouble.
Iero didn't make eye contact with either of them when he made his peace offering, and he sure as hell isn't doing it now, too focused on the infomercial to look away. Gerard's learned through experience that while it isn't a warning sign, exactly, it is an indicator of the way things are going to go in the days to come.
====
====
Mikey wakes him up five hours later. He starts by shaking Gerard's shoulder, and when that doesn't work, apparently slapping his face is next on Mikey's list of acceptable methods to wake him up.
“Mikey, what the hell?”
“Iero's gone,” Mikey says, searching through his coat pockets for his phone, hair sticking up all over the place. “I went to use the bathroom, and when I checked in on him he was gone.”
“Fuck.” Gerard's on his feet and heading out to the main room, snagging his jacket thrown over the back of the couch. “Where would he go?”
Mikey shrugs, pulling the keys for their rental out of a pocket. “I don't know, what did Brian say?”
Gerard stops rushing around and closes his eyes, trying to remember what Brian told them about Iero. His daily schedule, usual habits, addictions. Everything he'd had on Iero they'd need to know in order to do their jobs.
Mikey knows all of that too, but he's forcing Gerard to stop and think by asking, and it's working. Gerard checks his watch even though he already knows what the answer is.
“I'm going to fucking kill him,” Gerard growls, snatching the keys from Mikey. “Come on, there's a coffee place a few blocks down.”
Mikey blinks at him, and Gerard shoves his shoulder to get him moving. “The little shit's addicted and this hotel makes crappy coffee,” he explains. “I'm betting we'll run into him on the way.”
Mikey looks at him sharply, and Gerard smiles. While actually running over Iero with their rental car could probably be labeled as a bad career move, it would go a hell of a long way in making Gerard feel better.
“I think I should drive.”
Gerard shrugs and tosses the keys at Mikey, moving towards the door of the suite. “You're right, there might be witnesses.”
Gerard's pretty sure he's only half joking.
====
====
They find Iero sitting at a table in the back of the trendy little coffee shop typing away at his laptop and drinking a ridiculously overpriced coffee.
Gerard has to make a conscious effort not to head right over to him and punch his face in.
He doesn't know how serious whoever wants to kill Iero is, but the little shit's just asking them to take another shot at him with the way he acts. Like he's either invincible or not important enough for someone to want to kill, and seriously, that's just bullshit.
Someone's already tried to run his sorry ass over, and the only reason he's not in a full-body cast or in a morgue somewhere is thanks to Worm.
“Gerard,” Mikey starts, and Gerard takes a deep breath.
Then he takes another, and points a finger at the front counter of the coffee shop. “Coffee. Now.” Gerard takes another deep breath. “Please.”
Iero still hasn't noticed they're there, not even when the obnoxiously cheerful bells over the front door had announced their arrival to the disturbingly perky barista.
Mikey looks at him as though he's trying to evaluate how safe it would be to leave the two of them alone for the short amount of time it will take to order their coffee.
“I'm not going to kill him,” Gerard says, smiling stiffly at the barista when she waves, and it's beyond creepy how thrilled she seems to be working at that time of night. “Yet.”
“Yeah, wow.” The look on Mikey's face doesn't change, but Gerard can read the relief mixed with amusement there just fine when he sees Gerard's not feeling stupidly homicidal anymore. “It's amazing how much that doesn't fill me with confidence.”
“Mikey, go get the damn coffee.”
Mikey smiles, just a little bit now that they know Iero's not dead in a ditch somewhere, or dead in an alley, or just not dead in general.
Gerard watches Mikey go and takes a few minutes to calm himself down down enough to be able to hold a conversation with Iero that, hopefully, won't end in another lawsuit for Brian to deal with. Though, to be completely honest. Gerard doesn't really care all that much about that at the moment.
He walks up to Iero's table and stands there for a moment, waiting for Iero to notice him, and when that doesn't work Gerard clears his throat.
Iero looks up after another moment, and the little jerk actually smiles when he recognizes Gerard and gives him a thumbs up.
“Oh, hey. Great job on the bodyguard front, there,” he says, eyes moving off to Gerard's left when Mikey walks up. “Both of you. Stellar work. Amazing.”
Iero's a little shit.
Gerard smiles pleasantly and pulls his phone out to call Brian and bitch him out for landing them with the job of keeping Iero alive, but Mikey jumps in before he even has his phone open.
Mikey seems to have figured Iero out in the short time they've been watching him because he just rolls his eyes and comes right back at him on his level.
"You suck."
Gerard pauses, phone halfway to his mouth and watches, half expecting Iero to throw a diva hissyfit.
Iero crosses his arms and cocks his head, scowling at Mikey. Mikey scowls back, and while it's possibly one of the strangest things Gerard's seen his entire life, he trusts Mikey to know what he's doing. Still, he has to wonder how the hell things got to the point where he's watching two grown men fling playground insults at one another.
And then Iero stoops to an all-time low.
"Your mom - "
"Okay!" Gerard says, cutting into the argument before their mom gets dragged into it. "Fucking shut up, both of you."
Iero blinks in surprise and looks over at him. Like he'd forgotten Gerard was even there, and fucking hell, Gerard finally gets a look past the ink and metal to the twenty-six year old under it all.
Iero's a little shit who's a year younger than Mikey and someone wants him dead. Badly enough that his usual bodyguard is in the hospital with a concussion and a busted leg from saving Iero's ungrateful ass.
Gerard sighs and points at Iero's laptop and the coffee at his elbow. “Pack it up. We're leaving.”
Iero looks like he's going to fight him on it, so Gerard steps up to him and puts everything he has into showing Iero he is not kidding around on this very important issue. That Iero had damn well better listen to him when it comes to things like Iero's safety or Gerard will punch him in his stupid fucking face.
"You're a little shit," Gerard tells him because he wants to make sure Iero knows he doesn't like him to avoid any misunderstandings between them. “We're getting paid to make sure you don't die, and it would be fucking great if you could maybe help us out with that by listening to us when we say going out in public on your own is a bad idea right now."
Iero's eyes narrow, and Gerard would be thrilled to go at it with him all day at any other time, in any other situation.
“Worm is a friend of ours,” Mikey says, and Gerard sees the effect Worm's name has on Iero. He doesn't go pale or anything as dramatic as that, but some of the defiance goes out of him. “Worm knew what he was doing, and you need to trust us to know what we're doing.”
“He - “
Gerard shakes his head. Whatever Iero has to say about it, now isn't the time, and it sure as hell isn't the place. “Pack it up, we need to get out of here.”
The barista is watching them, a little warily now, picking up on the tension between them. “We can talk later, when we're back at the hotel, but for now we're leaving.”
Iero definitely doesn't like Gerard's tone of voice, but Gerard isn't in the mood to listen to whatever he has to say. “Now.”
Iero can bitch to Brian, Nestor, or whoever the hell he wants to later, once they're back in the relative safety of Iero's hotel room.
Gerard glances at the barista, eyes narrowing when he notices the way she's staring at Iero. There isn't anything overtly dangerous or threatening about it, but it's obvious she knows exactly who he is. The odds are pretty damn good that the internet is going to hear all about Iero's visit by morning.
“Brian's not going to like this,” Mikey says, handing Gerard his coffee.
Gerard sighs and watches Iero shut his laptop down, moving as slowly as humanly possible. Gerard should call him on it, but he's tired and can already feel the beginning of the headache he's going to get when Brian finds out about Iero sneaking out on them.
“He can talk to Iero about it,” Gerard mutters, glaring at Iero when he takes a leisurely drink of his own coffee, smiling like he has no idea how much Gerard would love to kick his ass.
“Yeah, he's going to love that.” Mikey isn't smiling on the outside, but Gerard knows damn well the fucker's laughing himself sick on the inside.
====
====
Brian calls just before seven.
Gerard took over from Mikey when they got back to the hotel and is in no mood to deal with it. He gets up from the couch and walks past the bedroom Mikey's sleeping in and opens the door to Iero's room.
The lights are on, Iero passed out on top of the blankets on the bed, paper spread across the bed with an acoustic guitar resting in its case on the floor.
“Iero! Phone!” Gerard throws his phone at Iero, hitting him in the chest with it.
He stays long enough to make sure Iero wakes up enough to take the call, and grins when Iero picks the phone up with Brian's angry voice on the other end.
“Tell him what you did last night,” Gerard explains when Iero looks at him with a confused expression. “He's going to want to know all about it.”
Iero frowns, but Brian's still yelling and Gerard lifts a hand to waves at Iero as he heads back out to the main room of the suite.
Gerard's not worried about Iero giving a highly edited account of his adventures in stupidity, or trying to lay the blame on Gerard or Mikey. For one thing, Brian knows them too well to fall for something like that. For another, since Iero isn't the one paying them, Brian's free to lay into him for being a fucking moron.
Brian will do it in a professional manner of course, but he'll still do it.
The thing Gerard's really worried about is who else besides Iero's fans might have heard about his coffee run, and who might be interested in putting two and two together and tracking him down. Anyone could do it if they wanted to. All it would take is a few minutes with a search engine and a little footwork.
Mikey sticks his head out of the bedroom when Gerard goes past again, hair sticking up all over the place. “Brian?”
Gerard sighs and glances back to where he can hear Iero talking on the phone to Brian, nothing more than the low murmur of his voice.
“We're going to have to move him.”
Mikey thinks about that for a moment. “Ray might know a place.”
Gerard makes a face because Ray always know a place, but he's also retired and trying to make the recording studio he and Patrick are putting together work. Gerard doesn't want to get him involved in this if he doesn't have to.
“Ray's retired.”
Brian and Mikey know full well what the word 'retired' means, but for some reason they fail to fully comprehend what it means in relation to them.
Mikey leans against the door frame. “Ray's - “
Iero's door opens, and a moment later he walks out and holds Gerard's phone up. Gerard takes it and puts it in a jacket pocket, studying Iero. He looks stunned, which is a natural reaction after dealing with Brian when he's pissed.
“That. That was your boss?” Iero asks, looking between them.
Gerard shares a look with Mikey. “Yes.”
“Jesus.”
Mikey smiles at that, and Gerard has to look away before he follows suit. “Brian has that affect on people sometimes.”
Iero shakes his head and looks at Gerard, expression shifting from stunned to stubborn and Brian had better appreciate the fact Gerard hasn't killed the little shit yet.
“He said something about having to move to another hotel?” Iero looks ready to fight him on it, but Gerard's really not in the mood to give a damn.
“You should have thought about the consequences before you went traipsing off,” Gerard says. “Someone wants to kill you, and you go out in public by yourself where people who recognize you could go online and tell the whole fucking world where you are? Or, hey, they could be old school and just call the local television station or newspapers, that would be fun too.”
Iero frowns, obviously not making the connection. Gerard's seriously trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, holding out hope Iero really isn't that stupid, but he's been wrong before.
“The barista recognized you. People you might have passed in the street could have recognized you. God knows how many people know what you look like, and you go waltzing around like it doesn't fucking matter!”
Gerard knows he's losing his cool, but Iero isn't thinking, and that kind of shit gets people hurt, killed. He's not going to run that risk with Mikey.
“Get your stuff together, we're checking out.” Gerard has had enough of Iero for the moment, and looks at Mikey. “Call Ray, tell him we need a favor.”
Mikey nods and ducks back into his room, already pulling his own phone out. Iero's just standing there, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists at his side.
“You need to think, Iero. We're here to look out for you, but there's not a whole hell of a lot we can do for you if you fight us every goddamned step of the way.”
Iero's eyes narrow and for a moment it looks like he's going to take a swing at Gerard, but he obviously thinks better of it because he backs down. He's still pissed, that much is clear, but he just goes back into his bedroom and slams the door.
Gerard stands there a moment longer to make sure Iero's packing and not trashing his room as a parting gift to the hotel and a giant fuck you to Gerard.
He's definitely not getting paid enough to put up with this shit.
Part Two
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, Pete/Patrick
Genre: AU
Word Count: ~23,000
Disclaimer: This is all completely made up, except for the parts where these people actually exist.
Summary: Frank's a rock star. Gerard's a bodyguard hired to protect him. Together they fight crime. Shenanigans ensue.
Prompt: Bodyguard scenarios (See also Protectiveness)
Notes: Written for svmadelyn's Kink/Cliché Multi-Fandom Challenge. Major thanks to chebonne for looking this over for me. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Brian calls him early on a Sunday when Gerard's at his weakest, and Brian damn well knows it.
"What the hell do you want, Schechter?"
Gerard's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep, no coffee, and whatever the hell died in his mouth probably has relatives running around his building, so he doesn't really see the point of social niceties at the moment.
Brian never does, so Gerard's instantly on his guard when Brian clears his throat and asks, "What are you doing right now?"
It's as close as Brian ever comes to an actual greeting, or asking how someone's doing, which is odd enough. The real kicker, though, is that Brian honestly sounds interested in Gerard's answer. Almost as if he cares about whatever is going on in Gerard's life, and that's wrong on so many levels Gerard stops rooting through his kitchen cabinets for clean coffee filters.
"Brian?"
Gerard can faintly hear the sound of typing on Brian's end, which isn't surprising. Brian's the kind of guy who'd work through the apocalypse and then demand to know why everyone else was just standing around in a daze.
"I need a favor," Brian says. "And by 'I need a favor' what I really mean is that you owe me a favor."
Feeling around at the back of a shelf, Gerard hits coffee filter pay dirt and tucks his cell phone against his shoulder as he takes the container down and opens it. He can usually hold his own with Brian, but he's at a disadvantage without his first cup of coffee. "If you need to move a body, you might want to call Bob."
"He's busy with something else," Brian says a little distractedly, "and besides, he doesn't do close protection - “
"I quit for a reason," Gerard interrupts. The disaster that was the last time he worked for Brian was more than enough for him to decide that he was in the wrong line of work. "You do remember that, right?"
There's a moment of silence, and Gerard is about to declare a victory because Brian's the one who always bitches about the necessity of avoiding lawsuits. And, hey, Gerard's all for that, especially when it means he doesn't have to pull bodyguard duty for assholes.
"Favor." Brian's not going to let it go, Gerard can hear it in his voice. "You owe me one."
To be completely truthful, Gerard owes Brian a shitload of favors, but he's smart enough not point that out. He doesn't say anything more, and it isn't as though he actually thinks Brian will forget he's on the line if he stays quiet, but he figures it can't really hurt to see what will happen if he tries it.
Gerard takes extra care setting the filter in the coffee maker basket and measuring out the grounds, bottom lip caught between his teeth when he pours the water in because it makes more noise than he was expecting.
"I can hear you breathing, asshole."
Gerard rolls his eyes and fishes a pair of coffee mugs out of the sink. He eyes them critically and decides that he's not in the mood to risk accidentally killing him and Mikey and rinses them.
“I retired, remember?” Gerard asks, because he really did. He quit the glamorous and exciting life of the close protection officer to pursue the even more glamorous and exciting life of a starving artist. ”My license expired.”
Brian doesn't miss a beat. “Well then it's pretty damn convenient that I happen to have the renewal application right here.”
Gerard's not sure that's the way he'd put it, but it's really fucking obvious that Brian's not going to let him wriggle his way out of things so easily. He sighs and glances back towards the living room where he can see the crest of Mikey's hair poking up over the arm of the couch. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
"Gerard," Brian's quieter now, serious. "You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could handle it."
As much as Gerard would love to argue that, he can't. Brian asks a lot of the people he works with, but he always knows where the lines are drawn.
“Who is it?”
There's another pause, like Brian's trying to find a way to word his response and that's never a good sign.
"I can't tell you over the phone," Brian finally says. "Mikey might have heard something about it by now, though."
Gerard winces, staring at the coffee maker and willing the damn thing to go faster. If Mikey knows something about it, then whoever Brian wants him to protect is probably part of the music scene. And, seriously, there is just not enough money in the fucking world to make it worth Gerard's while to look after some diva rock star.
“Be here in an hour - ” Brian starts, and then stops himself like he suddenly remembers who he's talking to. "Okay, wait. Be here as soon as you can. I'll tell you everything you'll need to know then."
Brian hangs up without bothering to say goodbye. Gerard stands there holding his phone until he hears the couch springs squeak in protest in the living room and Mikey's sleepy voice asking if there's any coffee.
====
====
A couple of hours later Gerard's sitting across from Brian with Mikey sitting next to him calmly inhaling his first cup of Starbucks for the day.
“How the hell did you do this?” Gerard asks, staring at the shiny new license sitting on Brian's desk with Gerard's name, signature, and a crappy picture of him even though he can guess. Brian's a sneaky little fucker and Mikey isn't exactly immune to bribery. “Is this even legal?”
Brian's eyebrows go up in feigned surprise. “Of course it is, Gerard. You know everything I do is complete aboveboard.”
Mikey shifts in his chair, the only sign of his amusement, or maybe it's guilt at his act of utter betrayal, it's difficult to tell with him sometimes.
Gerard really should have known better since he's dealing with Brian. Brian is not only a sneaky little fucker, but a resourceful one. If he wants something, he gets it, even if it means he has to use less than legal means, or bribing Gerard's own flesh and blood.
“Right, right. My apologies, I didn't mean to malign your good name.”
Brian smiles, a quick flash of teeth, and just like that whatever passed for pleasantries between them are over as he opens a desk drawer and pulls out a folder he tosses across the desk at Gerard. “This is the reason I called you.”
There a few minutes of quiet broken only by Mikey sipping at his Starbucks and Brian's fingers tapping an impatient tattoo against the arm of his chair as Gerard skims through the folder's contents.
The first thing he sees is a black and white glossy photograph of the guy Gerard assumes Brian wants him to work for. From the looks of it the picture's from a professional photo shoot, designer clothes and shoes out of a fashion magazine that don't clash so much as have an unfortunate collision with the guy's tattoos and facial piercings.
The photographer was probably trying for something mysterious and enigmatic, a study of the tortured artist behind the music the kids seem to eat up these days. The effect is ruined, however, by the slight upwards twist at the corners of the guy's mouth and raised eyebrow that says he's perfectly aware how ridiculous he looks. Gerard stares for a moment, and then turns his attention to the next page.
The guy, one Frank Iero, is part owner of a small record label/clothing line/publishing company/Gerard doesn't really give a damn what else.
He really doesn't.
Iero, as Gerard finds out when he keeps reading, is also the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist in a punk/hardcore/whatever the hell else band. They've been earning the hearts and souls of the disaffected youth for a while before they caught the ear of a record executive for an independent label at a local show a couple of years back. The band seems to be tearing up the charts, and apparently some of their fans who were there with them at the beginning want, no surprise here, the band's goddamned blood for selling out.
As the band's frontman Iero's bearing the brunt of their fans' anger and disgust, but aside from that Gerard can't find anything in the file that someone would want to kill him for. If anything, everyone seems to love the guy, they're practically falling over themselves to say good things about him. Which. Gerard's going to reserve his judgment on that one until he meets the guy. Assuming he takes the job.
"What the hell did he do?" Gerard has to ask because as far as he's aware every band that's ever made it big has been accused of selling out at one point, but it's never really been cause to kill someone over.
Brian shrugs. "His fans are batshit insane, how should I know?"
Mikey shifts in his chair again, and clears his throat quietly.
"Mikey?"
Mikey sighs and rolls his eyes, and for someone who's barely three years younger than him, Mikey sure as hell knows how to make Gerard feel pretty damn old some days.
"He said some things in his book," Mikey says, and Gerard's brain automatically adds 'author' to the list of things he doesn't care about with regards to Frank Iero, "and some people didn't like it."
Gerard raises an eyebrow, waiting for Mikey to elaborate on whatever it was Iero said, but Mikey pries the lid off his Starbucks cup and peers inside like he thinks it's going to magically refill itself.
"Iero's a fucking rock star, Brian. I'm sure he can afford to hire someone else."
Brian nods like he's taking Gerard's opinion into account, which Gerard knows is total bullshit. “He could, but this is a little personal.”
Gerard glances over at Mikey, but he just shrugs.
“Threats have been made on his life,” Brian starts, eyes narrowing when Gerard opens his mouth to interrupt, “and while that isn't a new development, no one's ever gotten hurt before.”
Gerard sits up a little straighter at that. He knows that while people in Brian's line of work are expected to throw themselves in the line of fire to take a bullet for their employers, it's really fucking rare for them to actually need to do something as drastic as that.
“He had Worm working for him when someone tried something,” Brian sighs and runs a hand over his face, and yeah. Gerard understands. “He's all right, but he's going to out of commission for a while. The police are working to find whoever was responsible, but until then Iero needs someone with him, which is where the two of you come in.”
Gerard sighs and closes the folder, resting it on his knee. “No.”
He might have been willing to take the job on his own, but he's not going to drag Mikey into something with as much potential to get ugly as this does because he owes Brian more than his share of favors.
"Gerard - "
"Brian, no. I already told you, fucking no." Gerard glances at Mikey when he fidgets with his empty cup. “Find someone else. Get Bob to do it.“
“Bob's working a retrieval with Patrick, he's going to be out of town for at least another week.” Brian looks like he's digging in, and that almost makes Gerard smile. “"It's you or the Alexes, and you know those kids don't have the experience."
Brian's actually being generous. The Alexes are good with the tech side of things, and Brian likes to slip them into crowds at venues and clubs because he knows no one will look twice at them, but they're still just kids.
Fucking scrawny kids who aren't working for Brian for the job experience so much as the money and the opportunity to stick as close to Patrick as they can without crossing over into actual stalker territory.
“Colligan and Crawford - “
"Are idiots," Brian says, but Gerard catches the exasperated fondness, and being called an idiot is the highest sort of praise anyone can hope to get from Brian. “They still don't have the kind of experience this job calls for, you know that.”
Gerard closes his eyes, and Jesus, his fucking life.
He can feel Mikey, a silent, solid presence at his side waiting for his decision, and Brian's eyes on him. There are moments when it's too much to carry the weight of their faith in him, and he's afraid this is going to be just another time he lets them down.
"I'll get him killed, Brian." He's not fighting it anymore, but he needs to make sure Brian knows going in that he's making a huge fucking mistake. "I'll get him killed and all of his fans are going to go after you."
“They can try,” Brian says, and Gerard has absolutely no problem imagining Brian taking on Iero's fans with nothing but grit, determination, and a baseball bat.
Gerard opens his eyes and looks at Brian. “Fine. I'll do it, but Mikey - “
“I'm in too,” Mikey says before Gerard can finish talking, and when Gerard looks over he has the same expression on his face he usually does, but the look in his eyes says he's not backing down. “You're going to need help with this one.”
“I.”
Mikey raises an eyebrow at him. Gerard makes a face because Mikey's too damn smart by far, and if this job goes the way Gerard thinks it will, he's going to need more than Mikey's help.
“Fucking fine, but don't come crying to me if you get hurt over this guy.”
Mikey smirks because he knows he has Gerard wrapped around his freakishly long pinky. “Fine by me.”
Brian's watching the two of them with the fond sort of exasperation Gerard sees on his face whenever Brian has to deal with people he doesn't actually hate, but would rather not deal with on a regular basis.
Which, to be completely honest, is everyone Brian doesn't actually hate.
“Wonderful. Now that we've gotten that taken care of, why don't we discuss the details?”
Gerard scowls, but sits up to listen when Brian pulls out another folder and starts talking.
Iero's been relocated to a hotel after the attempt near his home, and, as Brian so helpfully informs him, they're basically on their own after that.
The police don't have the manpower to devote to looking after the hyperactive little freak full-time. They're already stretched thin with the uniforms they have watching Iero while Brian brings them up to speed on the situation.
Hyperactive, Gerard thinks, might actually be an understatement when it comes to describing Iero. He's a tiny little guy, which might explain why he puts so much of himself out there the way he does, and he also seems to lack all known forms of common sense when it comes to his own personal safety.
Just to let Gerard know what they're in for, Brian takes out a video tape he got out of someone who knows someone who knows someone because that's how Brian works. It's a bootlegged recording from one of the last shows Iero's band did. Gerard's a little awed, but mostly horrified.
“Holy shit.”
The sound quality on the tape is shit, so Gerard can't really tell if Iero's band is any good, but the video is clear enough for him to see what Mikey says is a typical live performance. And, if what the two of them are telling him is true, that's also the way Iero lives his life.
“How the hell are we supposed to keep him alive if he has a death wish?”
Mikey snorts, which Gerard chooses to ignore for the time being. There's just no way someone can throw themselves around like that and not expect to maim themselves, if not actually die.
“He doesn't have a death wish,” Brian says, a little too mildly for it to be anything but an act. “He's just - “
“Spirited?” Mikey pipes up, sharing a look with Brian.
“Enthusiastic?” Brian offers with a little frown.
Gerard's eyes narrow because seriously, if he wanted a comedy routine he would have gone to see Gabe and his little band of freaks.
“Brian - “
“There's one more thing,” Brian says, cutting Gerard off. “You might run into resistance. Iero's not the one hiring you two.”
Gerard stares at Brian, not quite understanding for a moment. “What do you mean - “
Mikey fiddles with the sleeves of his coat and Gerard makes a pained noise when realization hits. “Fucking hell, Brian. Not another one.”
Brian shrugs and manages to look genuinely apologetic. “His business partner has a vested interest in keeping him alive,” Brian pauses, eyes darting around the room. “And there's the fact that she was engaged to him at one point, so.”
Gerard sighs and rubs a hand over his face, wishing like hell he hadn't answered his goddamned phone that morning. “Just so you know,” he says, “there's not enough fucking money in the world to make this worth my while.”
Brian echoes his sigh, and when Gerard looks up Brian's smiling, tired and small. “There never is, Gerard. There never is.”
====
====
The hotel Iero's staying at isn't exactly the Hilton or whatever hotel a rock star like Iero would be expected to stay at, but it's nice enough to pass whatever standards the guy must have. Gerard likes it well enough until he sees the fire escape at the back when they check the building out.
“You're going after him if he's a runner,” Gerard tells Mikey, dropping his sunglasses back in place as he stares up at the zig-zagging path of the fire escape above them. “I'm not risking broken bones over the little shit.”
Mikey makes a face at him but doesn't protest. They both know Mikey's faster than him anyway.
Hotel security it pretty much what he expected, and so are the uniformed police officers standing guard outside the door to the suite Iero's manager booked for him. Fresh-faced and painfully young, Gerard can tell that they're probably rookies, too young to understand that they're pulling a shit job.
Mikey's mouth turns up on one side, and Gerard can feel a smile tugging at his own mouth when one of the uniforms studies their licenses identifying them as being legally (somewhat dubiously legally in Gerard's case) close protection security officers a little too intently. Gerard's not sure if it's to show them he's taking his job seriously, or his partner.
“Bodyguards, huh?” The uniform asks, and Gerard forces a polite smile when the kid, and he is a kid, gives them a skeptical look.
Gerard knows the two of them aren't what people typically expect when they think bodyguards, but hell. There are times when people need to go unnoticed. It's a little difficult to do that with someone the size of professional wrestler acting like a second shadow. And with the kind of clients Brian specializes in, brains come in handy more often than muscles anyway.
“Yeah,” Gerard answers. “It's a living.”
The kid looks like he's going to say something else, probably more along the lines of doubting their ability to protect Iero, but the other uniform shakes her head.
“Christ's sake, McDonald, let them do their jobs.”
Mikey coughs politely behind his hand, which earns him a look from her, but she doesn't say anything more about it as they hand things over to them.
“He has the rest of his band in there with him,” she says, giving Gerard a sympathetic look. “They're a bit of a handful.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Gerard mutters, staring at the door to the suite.
Iero answers when Gerard knocks, eyes narrowing when he sees them standing there instead of the uniforms. Gerard holds up his license for him to see and Mikey does the same.
“I didn't hire you.”
Gerard looks down at Iero, glad for his sunglasses because letting the guy you're supposed to be protecting see you rolling your eyes at him is generally considered bad etiquette.
“We know that,” Gerard says, trying not to let his annoyance show as he puts his wallet with his license of dubious legality away. “We're still getting paid to keep you safe, so, you know, humor us.”
Mikey shoots him a look, and Gerard shrugs. They're getting paid to make sure Iero doesn't die, not to coddle him or be his best friends. That shit costs extra.
Iero steps back to let them in, turning around before Gerard and Mikey are completely in the hotel room, stomping over to where his band are lounging all over the pace.
Mikey bumps Gerard's shoulder with his own, eyebrows raised and Gerard makes an effort to smile, or at least look like he wouldn't rather be anywhere else but where he is.
“Hey, you know who wear sunglasses inside?”
Gerard switches his attention to the speaker, one of Iero's bandmates hanging off the side of the couch like it's just too much damn effort to sit up.
Another of Iero's bandmates sticks his head up over the back of the couch. “Blind people and assholes?” he says, and then dissolves into seriously creepy laughter that sounds like someone taking a set of fingernails to a chalkboard.
Gerard glances at Mikey who is suspiciously quiet, even for him.
“That's hilarious.” Gerard starts a slow sweep of the main room of the suite while Mikey takes the back rooms. “You know what would be even funnier? If you came up with original material.”
Iero looks up from where he's making a call to someone on his cell phone. He doesn't exactly look thrilled with the two of them showing up, but Gerard ignores that to pull the curtains on the huge fucking windows closed. He doubts whoever is after the guy is going to go to the effort of using a sniper, but he's not about to gamble Iero's life on it.
“I'm an asshole, get used to it,” Gerard says flatly. It's going to take a fucking miracle for someone to kill Iero and the rest of his band before Gerard beats them to it, the way things are going.
Mikey comes out of the back rooms just as Gerard finishes his sweep and gives the okay. Gerard turns in time to see Iero staring down at his phone with a expression on his face somewhere between confusion and irritation.
He looks up when he realizes Gerard's watching him, gaze flicking between Gerard and Mikey. “Jamia hired you guys?”
“Apparently she doesn't want to run your company on her own,” Gerard explains, although he thinks she's more motivated by some inexplicable affection for Iero. “We're going to be with you until the police catch the people behind the attempt on your life.”
Iero stares at him, and Gerard stares right back.
“We'll be going now,” the guy with the weird fucking laugh says, grabbing the other guy on the couch by the arm. “See you later Frankie. Try not to die.”
Gerard watches as they kick the remaining guy sprawled on the floor into motion. The guy pulls himself to his feet, staggering after them, drunk or still half-asleep, it's impossible to tell.
“Yeah,” Iero calls after them, “I'll do my best. Fuckers.”
Mikey follows them to the door and then locks it.
“So. What now?” Iero asks.
Gerard raises an eyebrow, and ticks through the standard list of things he'd love for their clients to pay attention to the first time through. “If you need to go out somewhere, make sure one of us is with you. Stay away from the windows. Don't open the door to anyone you don't know until they show ID, and even then, don't. That's what we're here for.” Gerard gestures around the suite with a flourish. “Other than that, do whatever you'd normally do.”
Iero makes a face and points at a laptop sitting on a table, looking between Gerard and Mikey. “Is it okay with you guys if I get some work done?”
“Knock yourself out,” Gerard says, probably a little too enthusiastically when Mikey clears his throat pointedly. “As long as you don't tell anyone where you are, sure.”
Iero snorts and takes his laptop and a stack of folders with him into one of the bedrooms to work, shutting the door firmly after himself.
“Awesome,” Gerard mutters, scowling at Mikey who's obviously dying with laughter. “And you can shut the hell up, Mikey. You have first shift.”
It's not really necessary to tell Mikey that since he usually does anyway, but Gerard's annoyed and Mikey laughing his ass off over the whole thing isn't helping.
Mikey cracks a smile and goes to claim one of the armchairs for himself, leaving Gerard standing there like an asshole with his sunglasses, and Christ, Gerard's fucking life.
====
====
It's early enough in the day that Gerard won't need to sleep for a while, so he keeps Mikey company in the main room of the suite. Keeping Mikey company in this instance means Gerard's watching crappy cable while Mikey messes around on his laptop, smiling at whatever he's doing and looking like an evil mastermind of some sort, which means he's probably tormenting Brian.
Iero's on the phone talking to someone, and whatever he's talking about isn't making him a happy camper. He started yelling over half an hour ago, and things just seem to be getting worse.
Gerard changes the channel again, looking for a crappy movie instead of a crappy television show, when the door to Iero's room opens and he walks out.
He looks. He's smiling, and considering he was just telling someone to go to hell, it's a little disconcerting. More than a little, really, because he's also trying to look apologetic or something along those lines. At least that's what Gerard hopes that's what Iero's going for because otherwise it's just really fucking creepy.
To say that Gerard doesn't trust Iero or his fucking creepy smile would be a major understatement.
“I'm sorry I was an ass earlier.”
For one thing, he's really working the puppy dog eyes.
Mikey's not biting, but he does make the effort to act like he is and shrugs. “It happens.”
They've worked for people who ranted, screamed, and there were a few who even started throwing things at them, so it's not like Iero's any worse, but Mikey does have a point.
“It's fine,” Gerard says when Iero looks at him, like he knows Gerard's the one he has to keep an eye on.
He's only partly right, however. Mikey will follow Gerard's lead on most things, but he won't hesitate to call Gerard on his shit, and he's more than capable of handling whatever comes at him on his own.
“Yeah, well.” Iero shrugs, and raises his eyebrows, asking permission to join Gerard on the couch in his own hotel suite to watch crappy cable.
Gerard smiles, just a little, and tosses the remote to him.
Iero catches it, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes a seat against the arm of the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He spends a few minutes flipping through the channels idly, not really paying attention to what comes on.
Gerard waits patiently because he's been through this enough times to know what Iero's thinking, or close enough that it doesn't really matter. Mikey's reading a magazine, content to leave things to stay out of it.
“So how is this going to work?” Iero asks, fidgeting a little as he pauses in his channel surfing to look over at him. “You guys just what, camp out here and follow me everywhere?”
Mikey looks up, but doesn't say anything. He's watching Iero, head tipped to the side like he's figuring something out and Gerard knows his cue when he sees it.
“Basically, that's pretty much it.” There really isn't much to what they do when you break it down. Their job isn't all that different from what the guys Iero manager usually hires do, they're just a little more specialized. “We were hired to keep you safe.”
Iero stares at him, and Gerard shrugs. “We'll do our best to avoid interfering in your life as much as possible, but you need to listen to us when we tell you to do something.”
Iero shakes his head and turns back to the television. “You don't - “ He cuts himself off and runs a hand through his hair, glaring at some poor infomercial lackey promoting some kind of kitchen gadget. “You can use one of the bedrooms to sleep in, since you guys are stuck with me,” he finally says, glancing at Gerard. “I mean, this couch isn't exactly the most comfortable thing ever, so. You know.”
Mikey raises an eyebrow at Gerard, and really, it's not like Iero's offering them his firstborn. There are three bedrooms not in use, it's hardly like the guy's giving up something rare and precious. It's a beginning though, and Gerard's not stupid enough to toss it aside.
“Thanks, we appreciate it.”
He also isn't stupid enough to think that it means Iero's completely on board with the two of them being there.
Iero makes a noncommittal noise and goes back to flipping through the channels until he finds something that catches his interest.
While it's nice that Iero's making some sort of effort to look at the two of them as more than the hired help, it doesn't change the fact that Iero doesn't want them there. Gerard's dealt with situations like that before, and it usually means trouble.
Iero didn't make eye contact with either of them when he made his peace offering, and he sure as hell isn't doing it now, too focused on the infomercial to look away. Gerard's learned through experience that while it isn't a warning sign, exactly, it is an indicator of the way things are going to go in the days to come.
====
====
Mikey wakes him up five hours later. He starts by shaking Gerard's shoulder, and when that doesn't work, apparently slapping his face is next on Mikey's list of acceptable methods to wake him up.
“Mikey, what the hell?”
“Iero's gone,” Mikey says, searching through his coat pockets for his phone, hair sticking up all over the place. “I went to use the bathroom, and when I checked in on him he was gone.”
“Fuck.” Gerard's on his feet and heading out to the main room, snagging his jacket thrown over the back of the couch. “Where would he go?”
Mikey shrugs, pulling the keys for their rental out of a pocket. “I don't know, what did Brian say?”
Gerard stops rushing around and closes his eyes, trying to remember what Brian told them about Iero. His daily schedule, usual habits, addictions. Everything he'd had on Iero they'd need to know in order to do their jobs.
Mikey knows all of that too, but he's forcing Gerard to stop and think by asking, and it's working. Gerard checks his watch even though he already knows what the answer is.
“I'm going to fucking kill him,” Gerard growls, snatching the keys from Mikey. “Come on, there's a coffee place a few blocks down.”
Mikey blinks at him, and Gerard shoves his shoulder to get him moving. “The little shit's addicted and this hotel makes crappy coffee,” he explains. “I'm betting we'll run into him on the way.”
Mikey looks at him sharply, and Gerard smiles. While actually running over Iero with their rental car could probably be labeled as a bad career move, it would go a hell of a long way in making Gerard feel better.
“I think I should drive.”
Gerard shrugs and tosses the keys at Mikey, moving towards the door of the suite. “You're right, there might be witnesses.”
Gerard's pretty sure he's only half joking.
====
====
They find Iero sitting at a table in the back of the trendy little coffee shop typing away at his laptop and drinking a ridiculously overpriced coffee.
Gerard has to make a conscious effort not to head right over to him and punch his face in.
He doesn't know how serious whoever wants to kill Iero is, but the little shit's just asking them to take another shot at him with the way he acts. Like he's either invincible or not important enough for someone to want to kill, and seriously, that's just bullshit.
Someone's already tried to run his sorry ass over, and the only reason he's not in a full-body cast or in a morgue somewhere is thanks to Worm.
“Gerard,” Mikey starts, and Gerard takes a deep breath.
Then he takes another, and points a finger at the front counter of the coffee shop. “Coffee. Now.” Gerard takes another deep breath. “Please.”
Iero still hasn't noticed they're there, not even when the obnoxiously cheerful bells over the front door had announced their arrival to the disturbingly perky barista.
Mikey looks at him as though he's trying to evaluate how safe it would be to leave the two of them alone for the short amount of time it will take to order their coffee.
“I'm not going to kill him,” Gerard says, smiling stiffly at the barista when she waves, and it's beyond creepy how thrilled she seems to be working at that time of night. “Yet.”
“Yeah, wow.” The look on Mikey's face doesn't change, but Gerard can read the relief mixed with amusement there just fine when he sees Gerard's not feeling stupidly homicidal anymore. “It's amazing how much that doesn't fill me with confidence.”
“Mikey, go get the damn coffee.”
Mikey smiles, just a little bit now that they know Iero's not dead in a ditch somewhere, or dead in an alley, or just not dead in general.
Gerard watches Mikey go and takes a few minutes to calm himself down down enough to be able to hold a conversation with Iero that, hopefully, won't end in another lawsuit for Brian to deal with. Though, to be completely honest. Gerard doesn't really care all that much about that at the moment.
He walks up to Iero's table and stands there for a moment, waiting for Iero to notice him, and when that doesn't work Gerard clears his throat.
Iero looks up after another moment, and the little jerk actually smiles when he recognizes Gerard and gives him a thumbs up.
“Oh, hey. Great job on the bodyguard front, there,” he says, eyes moving off to Gerard's left when Mikey walks up. “Both of you. Stellar work. Amazing.”
Iero's a little shit.
Gerard smiles pleasantly and pulls his phone out to call Brian and bitch him out for landing them with the job of keeping Iero alive, but Mikey jumps in before he even has his phone open.
Mikey seems to have figured Iero out in the short time they've been watching him because he just rolls his eyes and comes right back at him on his level.
"You suck."
Gerard pauses, phone halfway to his mouth and watches, half expecting Iero to throw a diva hissyfit.
Iero crosses his arms and cocks his head, scowling at Mikey. Mikey scowls back, and while it's possibly one of the strangest things Gerard's seen his entire life, he trusts Mikey to know what he's doing. Still, he has to wonder how the hell things got to the point where he's watching two grown men fling playground insults at one another.
And then Iero stoops to an all-time low.
"Your mom - "
"Okay!" Gerard says, cutting into the argument before their mom gets dragged into it. "Fucking shut up, both of you."
Iero blinks in surprise and looks over at him. Like he'd forgotten Gerard was even there, and fucking hell, Gerard finally gets a look past the ink and metal to the twenty-six year old under it all.
Iero's a little shit who's a year younger than Mikey and someone wants him dead. Badly enough that his usual bodyguard is in the hospital with a concussion and a busted leg from saving Iero's ungrateful ass.
Gerard sighs and points at Iero's laptop and the coffee at his elbow. “Pack it up. We're leaving.”
Iero looks like he's going to fight him on it, so Gerard steps up to him and puts everything he has into showing Iero he is not kidding around on this very important issue. That Iero had damn well better listen to him when it comes to things like Iero's safety or Gerard will punch him in his stupid fucking face.
"You're a little shit," Gerard tells him because he wants to make sure Iero knows he doesn't like him to avoid any misunderstandings between them. “We're getting paid to make sure you don't die, and it would be fucking great if you could maybe help us out with that by listening to us when we say going out in public on your own is a bad idea right now."
Iero's eyes narrow, and Gerard would be thrilled to go at it with him all day at any other time, in any other situation.
“Worm is a friend of ours,” Mikey says, and Gerard sees the effect Worm's name has on Iero. He doesn't go pale or anything as dramatic as that, but some of the defiance goes out of him. “Worm knew what he was doing, and you need to trust us to know what we're doing.”
“He - “
Gerard shakes his head. Whatever Iero has to say about it, now isn't the time, and it sure as hell isn't the place. “Pack it up, we need to get out of here.”
The barista is watching them, a little warily now, picking up on the tension between them. “We can talk later, when we're back at the hotel, but for now we're leaving.”
Iero definitely doesn't like Gerard's tone of voice, but Gerard isn't in the mood to listen to whatever he has to say. “Now.”
Iero can bitch to Brian, Nestor, or whoever the hell he wants to later, once they're back in the relative safety of Iero's hotel room.
Gerard glances at the barista, eyes narrowing when he notices the way she's staring at Iero. There isn't anything overtly dangerous or threatening about it, but it's obvious she knows exactly who he is. The odds are pretty damn good that the internet is going to hear all about Iero's visit by morning.
“Brian's not going to like this,” Mikey says, handing Gerard his coffee.
Gerard sighs and watches Iero shut his laptop down, moving as slowly as humanly possible. Gerard should call him on it, but he's tired and can already feel the beginning of the headache he's going to get when Brian finds out about Iero sneaking out on them.
“He can talk to Iero about it,” Gerard mutters, glaring at Iero when he takes a leisurely drink of his own coffee, smiling like he has no idea how much Gerard would love to kick his ass.
“Yeah, he's going to love that.” Mikey isn't smiling on the outside, but Gerard knows damn well the fucker's laughing himself sick on the inside.
====
====
Brian calls just before seven.
Gerard took over from Mikey when they got back to the hotel and is in no mood to deal with it. He gets up from the couch and walks past the bedroom Mikey's sleeping in and opens the door to Iero's room.
The lights are on, Iero passed out on top of the blankets on the bed, paper spread across the bed with an acoustic guitar resting in its case on the floor.
“Iero! Phone!” Gerard throws his phone at Iero, hitting him in the chest with it.
He stays long enough to make sure Iero wakes up enough to take the call, and grins when Iero picks the phone up with Brian's angry voice on the other end.
“Tell him what you did last night,” Gerard explains when Iero looks at him with a confused expression. “He's going to want to know all about it.”
Iero frowns, but Brian's still yelling and Gerard lifts a hand to waves at Iero as he heads back out to the main room of the suite.
Gerard's not worried about Iero giving a highly edited account of his adventures in stupidity, or trying to lay the blame on Gerard or Mikey. For one thing, Brian knows them too well to fall for something like that. For another, since Iero isn't the one paying them, Brian's free to lay into him for being a fucking moron.
Brian will do it in a professional manner of course, but he'll still do it.
The thing Gerard's really worried about is who else besides Iero's fans might have heard about his coffee run, and who might be interested in putting two and two together and tracking him down. Anyone could do it if they wanted to. All it would take is a few minutes with a search engine and a little footwork.
Mikey sticks his head out of the bedroom when Gerard goes past again, hair sticking up all over the place. “Brian?”
Gerard sighs and glances back to where he can hear Iero talking on the phone to Brian, nothing more than the low murmur of his voice.
“We're going to have to move him.”
Mikey thinks about that for a moment. “Ray might know a place.”
Gerard makes a face because Ray always know a place, but he's also retired and trying to make the recording studio he and Patrick are putting together work. Gerard doesn't want to get him involved in this if he doesn't have to.
“Ray's retired.”
Brian and Mikey know full well what the word 'retired' means, but for some reason they fail to fully comprehend what it means in relation to them.
Mikey leans against the door frame. “Ray's - “
Iero's door opens, and a moment later he walks out and holds Gerard's phone up. Gerard takes it and puts it in a jacket pocket, studying Iero. He looks stunned, which is a natural reaction after dealing with Brian when he's pissed.
“That. That was your boss?” Iero asks, looking between them.
Gerard shares a look with Mikey. “Yes.”
“Jesus.”
Mikey smiles at that, and Gerard has to look away before he follows suit. “Brian has that affect on people sometimes.”
Iero shakes his head and looks at Gerard, expression shifting from stunned to stubborn and Brian had better appreciate the fact Gerard hasn't killed the little shit yet.
“He said something about having to move to another hotel?” Iero looks ready to fight him on it, but Gerard's really not in the mood to give a damn.
“You should have thought about the consequences before you went traipsing off,” Gerard says. “Someone wants to kill you, and you go out in public by yourself where people who recognize you could go online and tell the whole fucking world where you are? Or, hey, they could be old school and just call the local television station or newspapers, that would be fun too.”
Iero frowns, obviously not making the connection. Gerard's seriously trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, holding out hope Iero really isn't that stupid, but he's been wrong before.
“The barista recognized you. People you might have passed in the street could have recognized you. God knows how many people know what you look like, and you go waltzing around like it doesn't fucking matter!”
Gerard knows he's losing his cool, but Iero isn't thinking, and that kind of shit gets people hurt, killed. He's not going to run that risk with Mikey.
“Get your stuff together, we're checking out.” Gerard has had enough of Iero for the moment, and looks at Mikey. “Call Ray, tell him we need a favor.”
Mikey nods and ducks back into his room, already pulling his own phone out. Iero's just standing there, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists at his side.
“You need to think, Iero. We're here to look out for you, but there's not a whole hell of a lot we can do for you if you fight us every goddamned step of the way.”
Iero's eyes narrow and for a moment it looks like he's going to take a swing at Gerard, but he obviously thinks better of it because he backs down. He's still pissed, that much is clear, but he just goes back into his bedroom and slams the door.
Gerard stands there a moment longer to make sure Iero's packing and not trashing his room as a parting gift to the hotel and a giant fuck you to Gerard.
He's definitely not getting paid enough to put up with this shit.
Part Two