Work Text:
On March 1st, there is a post by Mikey Way on the Instagram app, consisting of a photo in an outdoor garden, the background filled with flowers, fruits and plants. In the foreground, his hand holds a pot with a small sign in the soil, reading, Strawberries. The caption reads:
mikeywayofficial A year has gone by since my brother and I made one of the toughest, most life-changing decisions. When we bought this cottage, the previous owner had this garden that we have since done our best to keep thriving. We're not ready to share the full story yet, but believe me when I say that we both truly do miss playing onstage for you.
That same month, Gerard Way's post is a photo of him and Mikey, in their home office. Gerard, sporting red-orange hair, is clearly the one holding his mobile phone, squinting as he tries to get a good angle. Mikey has on one of his many tank tops and caps, including his reading glasses. Behind is a corner of white shelves, filled with books.
gerardway @mikeywayofficial and I may have stopped touring, but that doesn't mean our imaginations have! Working on an issue of Doom Patrol.
On April 9th, Mikey shares a picture of Gerard, depicted standing at the far right, by a large lake in mid-day. He grins at the camera, baring his row of small teeth. Arms crossed, he wears a denim jacket, his hair dyed a silver blond.
mikeywayofficial Today's the birthday for the best brother the universe could've offered me! You have always been there for me, and are the reason why I aspire to keep going and smile more. I love you so much.
In the comments section:
gerardway I love you too. Thanks, little bro. ❤️
frankieromustdie Happy birthday my man!!
•••
Today used to be for the anniversary of Gerard's marriage. The date, September 3rd, goes unmarked on the calendar that hangs in the kitchen. For the 10th, Mikey's birthday is written in pen. Among the other squares are reminders for meetings and deadlines.
At the dining table, Gerard places and opens the last box of pastries. With a pair of tongs, he extracts bar-shaped donuts known as Long Johns; some topped with pink, strawberry-flavored icing, others with chocolate. He sets them on the three-tiered stand, which is in the middle of the table. Alongside are muffins and cookies, all of which he has purchased from the town bakery, just about an hour's drive away. There are also the leftover fruit tarts and See's Candies that were given to him and Mikey, as party favor treats the week before.
He and Mikey have been living together in this cottage, secluded from society, since the former endured a devastating divorce in which he had lost everything–except for the custody of the cats his now-ex-wife had convinced him to adopt for their baby daughter, of which he had to face his fear of needles to take allergy shots for. Mikey's last relationship had spiraled when he moved with his girlfriend, Sarah, and her family to a rural part of Oregon, while he was addicted to medicine and alcohol. After facing a near-fatal overdose, Mikey ended up in rehab. Upon release, he had broken up with Sarah, followed by learning that Gerard had separated from Lindsey, with a divorce in process. Both brothers now being single, they had decided, Let's just get away from it all. It had always been one of Gerard's lifetime goals to live in the woods for about five years. Now that Mikey was in a much better state of mind, he was willing to give this lifestyle another try, and here they were, with the results having been surprisingly therapeutic.
The men would often find something to occupy and entertain themselves with–much like how they had spent their childhood indoors, their parents having kept them away from the dangers of their neighborhood. There could be no trouble when one was reminded of home. With a personalized recording studio and office, they still created and released their respective pieces of works, but were far more private than before. The downside, however, was that it turned Gerard back into the introverted artist he had been infamous for in his youth. When the papers for divorce had been filed, it took such a toll on him, that he chose to put his Hesitant Alien tour on an indefinite hiatus.
In an interview, Gerard cited the reasons behind this with, “I found fame to be extremely traumatic.” Mikey put out a public statement, opening up about his dark period and near-death experience. Similarly, he stated that he did not want to do a tour with his own project, Electric Century, due to the thought of slipping back into bad habits. This was met with mixed reception from their fans and personal friends and family. One faction sympathized and supported this decision, continuing to look forward to their future works. On the contrary, there were fans who were upset and demanded that they tour again, especially as their former band, My Chemical Romance. Furthermore, a significant number of fans and loved ones found it odd that the grown and rich siblings were sharing the same roof. There were speculations abound that there was something more to this already close relationship–whether jokingly or seriously; others expressed understanding, simply finding the brothers to be inseparable and in need of one another.
In response to the allegations–in interviews and to whomever asked him randomly–Gerard explained, “Mikey means the world to me. And because I wanted to help make his life easier after what he'd been through, I chose to follow him. If you're thinking we're a couple, then that's just silly.” Similarly, Mikey would shrug it off, saying, “If you seriously think we're dating, that's ridiculous. We care deeply about and need each other, that's for sure. But please don't jump into those kinds of conclusions.”
Mikey is out on his daily post-breakfast walk in the woods. He usually takes somewhere between twenty to forty minutes before returning, giving Gerard enough time to prepare this meal. It was a day of bittersweet memories for Gerard, recalling how excited he was, signing his marriage certificate for Lindsey, backstage of the final Projekt Revolution show; the couple had been wearing matching jean jackets and shirts with each other's names printed on them. He had kissed the top of her head–both of their hair dyed black–as she signed hers, believing that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Fans shared the same sentiment, expressing their lament online over what they thought was a soulmates' love story.
There is the sound of a key being turned in the knob of the front door, followed by it creaking open. Mikey steps in, swiftly shutting the door before the cats could get out–there being potential predators that could harm, or worse, eat them, if they were unsupervised. He removes his shoes, placing them on the side of the welcome mat, his New York Yankees cap–NY embroidered in purple–going on the coat rack.
“Back already?” Gerard calls.
Mikey replies, “Mm-hmph.” He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them over the collar of his Polo shirt.
“Right on time.”
As Mikey approaches, he says, “Wow! What's all this for?”
Gerard turns to him with a smile. “Just wanted something special for us.”
Mikey thinks back to waking to the sounds of Gerard getting up and ready when the digital clock's red timing read 6AM. Too groggy to speak up then, he figured the singer had some unspoken, important errands to do. “Wait, is that why you got up so early today?”
“Yeah. Got to the bakery as soon as it opened.”
Gerard had driven to the location while eating a hastily-made ham and cheese sandwich. He was awash in a blue color from the rising sun. When he returned to the cottage, Mikey was already gone, a plate with crumbs and his personal mug with coffee stains in the kitchen sink.
Mikey laughs, “Looks like a party's worth.” Then, looking at the calendar, he sees the date and realizes. Smile faltering, he freezes momentarily, unsure if he should address it. Deciding not to, Mikey shakes it off and sits at his chair, and Gerard in his. Before him is an empty plate, and a cup of latté with white foam on top. Lifting it by the handle, he asks, “Did you make this?”
“Yeah!” Gerard answers with pride as he lifts his. “Wanted it fresh and hot.”
Mikey takes a sip of the foamy beverage, and then gets the tongs to reach for the tiers. He picks a corn muffin and some peanut butter cookies for himself. Gerard has a heart-shaped chocolate cookie and chocolate-topped Long John.
“So,” Gerard converses, “see anything interesting out on your walk?”
•••
Mikey has had his fill. He observes how Gerard is grabbing for yet another snack. His side of the tier stand has grown more empty, compared to Mikey's. When he gets a truffle–a piece of dark chocolate with white icing–Mikey raises a hand forward and speaks:
“Hey, uh, slow it down for a bit.” He does not want to make his brother feel guilty, given his history of body image issues and emotional eating. “I-I mean, you don't wanna have to go to the dentist again, right?”
“It's fine,” Gerard shrugs off, and pops the piece of chocolate into his mouth.
Then, they get to cleaning up the area, storing away the uneaten items and the dirty dishes into the sink, where Gerard begins to wash them.
•••
Mikey practices his bass on the couch, an opened songwriting notebook on the coffee table in front of him. Eventually, he hears Gerard groan. With Gerard's back to him at the sink, he appears to be pressing a hand to his stomach.
“G?” Mikey calls out, concerned.
“Just a little stomachache,” he explains with a wince. “It'll go away.”
But when Gerard is done washing the dishes, he doubles over, an arm over the stomach and a clenched fist pressed to his forehead.
“Still?” Mikey queries. Gerard nods in response, grimacing from the uncomfortably sharp sensation. “Why don't you go lie down?”
Gerard accepts this, and walks into their bedroom. He pulls up the cover of his individual bed, getting settled underneath. Shutting his eyes, he rests while listening to the rhythm of the thumping notes coming from the bass.
•••
After forty-five minutes have passed, Mikey puts his bass guitar away and goes to the kitchen. He gets a small pot, fills it with water from the faucet, and sets it over the stove. With a ceramic mug out from the cupboard and on the counter, he opens the pantry for the box of chamomile herbal tea bags. He drops one bag into the warming body of water.
Afterward, with a hot mug, Mikey slowly opens the bedroom door. He finds the top half of Gerard's face peeking out from the cover, whose eyelids flutter open when he hears a soft knock.
“How are you?” Mikey asks, stepping forward.
Gerard sits up and examines himself. He sighs contentedly, “It's gone now.”
Mikey sets the mug on the nightstand, next to where his own bed is, in which he sits down. He interlocks his fingers. “So, no need for Pepto-Bismol?”
“Nope,” Gerard says gratefully.
Mikey gestures towards the steaming cup. “You should have that tea, though, just in case.”
Gerard takes the beverage, saying, “Thanks.” The warm container heats his palms up, along with his heart. Then, tears spring into his eyes, head beginning to hang as his face crumples.
Upon seeing this, Mikey immediately leaps from his seat and is by his brother's side, an arm around him. “Hey, hey,” Mikey whispers. “It's okay. Let it out, G.” He massages Gerard's back.
This is not the first time he has had to offer comfort like this. Gerard often had night terrors in his childhood. They endured their parents' divorce and the death of their grandmother together. Struggles with one of the two contemplating suicide, and when Mikey awoke from his coma to find Gerard at his bedside. During the past year, there were plenty of instances where Mikey would wake up, either in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning, to screaming or sobbing. He would stay in Gerard's bed, arms wrapped around each other, until they fell back asleep, waking later at their desired hour. Sometimes, Gerard would apologize to Mikey for disturbing his sleep, and his partner assured, “It wasn't your fault,” even if he ended up feeling tired during the day; he could see in Gerard's face that he was just as sleepy. Though Gerard would not explain what his nightmares were about, it was not hard to guess.
Trembling, Gerard wipes at the trails of tears from his cheeks and sniffles. “I'm having mixed feelings right now,” he wavers. “I wanted to make today special. To take my mind off of things, y'know?”
“Mm-hm.”
“And I fucked it up, like an idiot.”
“No, no, no,” Mikey quickly reassures in a soft tone. He rests his temple against Gerard's. “It was beautiful. I loved having that lunch with you.”
“But I bought too much of that sugary shit. And I should've saved it all for your birthday instead.”
“I'm not mad at you for that. In fact, I'm proud of you for trying to make something positive out of…well, you know. You may not've listened to me, and I should've noticed how much you were eating a lot sooner, but I’m here now, taking care of you.” He affectionately grabs and shakes Gerard's shoulder for emphasis.
“That's also it: I'm just…” Gerard turns to face a sympathetic Mikey, the quivering corners of his lips upturning. “...so fucking happy to have someone like you.”
Mikey smiles back, and leans in to give a kiss on Gerard's forehead. The mustache on his upper lip tickles the skin.
Mikey cannot imagine Lindsey being able to offer support if Gerard broke down for whatever reason–being unable to really console him when she would rather want to push him away or ignore him entirely. And in regards to his eating: Mikey can recall her ordering her then-husband over what not to consume. As much as Mikey himself has grown to resent her, he knows Gerard still loves the fellow artist, at least to some capacity.
In comes the rounded-eyed, pale-gray cat, named Lotion. Gerard begins sipping his chamomile tea, and Mikey parts away. Lotion hops onto the mattress and approaches his owner, who scratches at his soft fur.
After a short period of silence, Mikey reaches over for Gerard's shoulder. “D'you think you're gonna be good for dinner?”
Swallowing a gulpful, Gerard nods and mumbles, “Mm-hmm.”
“You sure?”
Another sip. “Yeah.”
•••
Mikey has his reading glasses on, holding a science-fiction horror novel. The cat with a darker shade of gray fur, Mitch, relaxes on his lap. The television is on with the volume low for background noise, a commercial playing.
Gerard emerges from the bedroom and places the now-empty cup by the sink. He declares, “I'm going out for a smoke.”
“Alright!” Mikey replies, who had quit smoking.
At the coat rack, Gerard pulls out a cigarette from his pack of Marlboro Red in his jacket pocket. Also grabbing his lighter, he gives it a shake as he goes out to the front porch.
Mikey turns from his book to see Gerard through the large windows from the front of the house–which also serve as a major light source. He debates on whether he should go and talk to him, or leave him alone to his thoughts. He decides upon the latter, given that he had a clear view of the singer. Aside from that, Mikey had his own topics he nor Gerard would have necessarily liked to talk about–namely, when he had been found unconscious by his friend and musical partner, David, having overdosed, and believed by the doctors that he would never wake up from his coma. This past January, the extent of acknowledging the event was receiving a gentle, “Hey,” and prolonged, squeezing hug from Gerard. Patting his back, Mikey could feel the gratitude over him surviving radiate from the gesture. Plus, there was a phone call from their mom and dad, asking how he was doing. Though nobody spoke of it, it was obvious what was weighing on their minds that day.
With a cigarette between his lips and one hand cupped over the end, the lighter flicks, burning it. Inhaling, he takes the stick out and blows a cloud. He wanders around, before placing his palms–cigarette held between two fingers–on the handrail where the ashtray sits by, overlooking the green scenery.
Once, Gerard had brought up Lindsey's notorious behavior as a subject. Mikey felt himself go numb, uncomfortable to open his mouth. When Gerard saw how Mikey had shrunk in his seat, he realized, “Oh. I'm sorry.” And he let it go.
Although there was an unspoken agreement between them to not share the full story as to why they isolated themselves from the fame. If Lindsey were to find out, they feared she would find a way to enact her revenge on them. With that, Gerard confided in his therapist how Lindsey seemed to revel in making him cry–a pattern she consistently exhibited with anyone who offended her in any way, Mikey included.
In fact, Gerard learning that Lindsey had bullied his brother was where he drew the line. She had confessed to being behind this once Mikey was sent to rehab after recovering in the hospital.
Gerard was shaking, eyes welling with tears, and, for the first time, glaring at her. It was as if all the times he had cowered from her presence never happened, did not tense up like a child about to get hit by a parent. “How the fuck could you do something like that? Don't you know how sensitive he is?”
Lindsey appeared a tad nervous by both her confession and husband's reaction, though she did her best to remain calm. “I'm sorry, honey. I didn't know it would've led to him being in the hospital, of all places.”
“He could've died!” He yelled the last word, voice nearly cracking. This was a notion that always haunted him. And now, his wife had indirectly contributed to it coming true–to the reason why he stayed up for a sleepless week, crying and scared, thinking that Mikey might not make it.
“I'm sorry, but I was in a really bad mood at the time. I really thought he had broken Alicia's heart, what with him getting with that groupie.”
“You mean Sarah?”
“Yeah, her,” Lindsey replied nonchalantly.
Disbelieved by her dismissiveness over Mikey's ex-fiancée, Gerard brought his fingers over his perspiring forehead, trying to articulate his next sentence. “God. Look, I wasn't very happy with him breaking the 'no groupies' policy either, and I told him that. But that doesn't mean you had to go out and fucking encourage strangers on the Internet to bully the two of 'em!”
“Well, you know how much Alicia means to me. And so, when I heard that she and Mikey were separated and he started seeing Sarah, like, right after, I…I was angry for my friend.”
“You hurt them, Lindsey,” Gerard wavered, not believing he was talking to the same woman he had fallen for. He shook his head as he staggered away. “I'll never forgive you, no matter what you say this time.”
Lindsey's voice now raised in anger as she shouted, “Gerard, if you dare try to leave me, I swear to God, you'll never see Bandit again!”
That was something she had the tendency to scare him into thinking, should their marriage fall apart. Now, as he left the room with his heart pounding, he knew he risked making this fear come true, after all.
Gerard taps away the cigarette over the ashtray. When the bassist briefly glances over, he sees the man wiping at his eyes with the back of a hand. With the stick burnt down in half, Gerard takes the ashtray and strides over to the backyard, where the garden is. He inspects the plants and flowers for a few seconds before sitting at the cast aluminum chair. Putting the ashen container on the accompanying table provided, he hunches over with his arms crossed. His gaze is somehow distant, yet concentrated. When the cigarette becomes nothing more than a stub, he presses it against the hard material before choosing to get back in through the sliding glass door. It is locked, so he has to knock loudly at the glass.
•••
That evening, Mikey wants Gerard to have something fairly light. So, with the record player emanating rock music for the task, they make a pot of vegetable soup together. Mikey chops the carrots and cucumbers over the wooden cutting board, using that same knife to slide them into the boiling broth. Afterward, Gerard opens the pot's lid to sprinkle in some pepper and squeeze a slice of lemon over the contents–the latter of which had come from their tree in the garden–before closing it again. As it continues brewing, Mikey remembers that it is his turn to feed the cats. He gets the two bowls and opens the cabinet containing the Purina sack. The dry food clattering onto the stainless steel gives the animals their cue to run over.
“Okay, okay,” he chuckles at Mitch, who nudges at his owner's leg with his nose. Lotion is just as eager.
When the soup is ready, a ladle is used to stir and pour it into two bowls. The men are at the table again, clinking their glasses of water together. They dip their respective spoons into the orange-brown broth.
“Mmm!” Mikey expresses his satisfaction for how the taste turned out. “What more can I ask for?”
“You've already done enough,” Gerard tells him.
At this, the bassist snaps up to see his brother gazing at him with so much tenderness, his smile profoundly fond. Mikey radiates, his throat almost forming a lump at the sweetness of it all. Quickly, he looks back down, shifting the vegetables around with the tip of the spoon, before continuing.
•••
As Gerard cleans the dishes, watches television with his brother, and helps put the cooled pot away, Mikey pays close attention to his state. This continues as they go to bed, and the following morning as another day begins. For breakfast, Mikey initially thinks of making a batch of pancakes, but then considers asking Gerard first.
“Ugh,” Gerard groans, albeit in a playful manner. “I think I'll lay off the sweet stuff for a while.”
Mikey chuckles, “I figured. How ‘bout some eggs, then? An omelet?”
“An omelet sounds better.”
And so, Mikey gets to making it, with slices of ham, cheese, and greens, all sizzling in the pan. Meanwhile, at the table, Gerard draws in his sketchbook, having his cup of black coffee.
When his breakfast is placed before him, Gerard asks, “And you?”
“I'm gonna cook myself some eggs with bacon.”
Gerard reaches over to gently take Mikey's wrist. “Or, I can do it for you.”
Mikey is about to protest with, You don't have to do that, but stops himself, the gratitude on his grin saying enough. Gerard cuts and eats a chunk of the yellow dish before getting up for his task.
•••
Mikey chews the last of his over-hard egg, its edges crisp and crunchy. “Wanna come walk with me?”
Gerard nods in agreement. Before joining Mikey out the door, he gets his sunglasses and bends down to briefly scratch Mitch's head.
Neither say a word on their walk, instead listening to the noise of the trees' leaves rustling in the light breeze, the birds chirping. Mikey is a few steps ahead, hands in pockets.
“Look, Mikey!”
Mikey shifts about as the man runs up to him with a giddy smile, joining him arm-in-arm. Gerard points towards the distance, and Mikey sees, in the finger's direction, a group of deer in the meadow; several are laying in the grass, completely still, others walking around. Mikey laughs softly, taking out his mobile phone to open the camera and take a picture. No matter how often they come across the woodland creatures, they always fascinate the two of them–especially with how unafraid the deer seem of humans. Obviously, these are no hunting grounds.
•••
Heading back home, Gerard stops in his tracks and pushes his sunglasses down, squinting and blinking through the brightness. The field of tall grass shining on the front lawn looks inviting–unlike yesterday, where he quickly passed by it on his way to and back from the bakery, and gazed past it later on that afternoon. “Hey, Mike.” The man in question halts and turns around as he is getting the key out. Gerard tilts his head to the spot. “Let's lay here in the sun for a bit.”
“Sure.” He glances down at the key and adds, “Uh, say, why don't I bring Mitch and Lo out, so they can bask in it with us?”
Gerard shrugs. “Go right ahead.”
His companion opening the door, Gerard can hear him beckon the cats, clicking his tongue lovingly. Out they come, with their tails up in curls. The men get to lay down next to each other. Mikey puts his NY cap over his face, arms folded behind his brunette head; the lavish forest grass on his bare skin is not itchy like the typical lawns. Gerard's hands are over the torso of his red-and-blue gingham-patterned shirt, his shut eyelids swirling with dark orange and red from the sky. It is early September, and soon, the sunshine would fade to make way for cold and rainy weather, the green leaves turning yellow, orange and red. They would stay warm by the fireplace, and spend the nights watching their favorite horror films.
Fingers tapping upon his navel, Gerard breaks the silence. “B's coming over next weekend–,” he refers to his daughter, “for your birthday.”
Mikey hums in acknowledgement, becoming dazed as he relaxes into the warmth. And then, eyes snapping open to the darkness beneath the cap's crown, he shifts his head to the side. “Oh, shit–,” he gasps, “we haven't even talked about what I wanna do for my birthday yet, huh?!”
“Don't worry,” Gerard chuckles at his brother's reaction. “We already have the leftover pastries from yesterday to give out. And I can just order a cake to go with it. I think it'll just be the usual company–well, except for Frank, since we should give him time to grieve his grandfather.”
Mikey eases back down. “Good idea. Well, I don't really want anything big and fancy–except maybe go to Disneyland.”
“Disneyland?” Gerard scoffs light-heartedly. “That sounds 'big' to me. We'll have to see about the tickets.”
“Kristin's the one who suggested it.”
“She's really nice. She was gushing to me about the Harry Potter world at Universal the other day.”
“I can tell she really likes me, too. But I had to tell her that I've sworn off dating.”
“Aww,” Gerard expresses his sympathy for her, despite himself having also made the same decision.
“Yeah, I felt bad about it. But, it is what it is.”
When neither have anything else to add, Mikey ponders about this coming Christmas and Gerard's birthday next year; for either occasion, he could buy the pet hamster Gerard always wanted. After a minute, he senses a tap on his arm and hears, “C'mere.” He takes off his hat to see the man welcoming him with open arms. Setting the hat aside, he scoots over and lets himself be enveloped. Gerard holds him as if he is the restraint keeping him in place on a roller-coaster ride. Mikey rests his cheek on his brother's shoulder, one arm draped over, being mindful not to poke him with his sharp chin or elbow. He raises his head and looks into Gerard's slightly stubbled face. Then he brings a set of fingertips to one side, prompting the man to look back.
Mikey softly asks, “You okay?” He attempts to examine him, even with his shades hiding his eyes–whose color matches the blue sky and green meadow.
Gerard's mouth and eyebrows appear to be free of alarm. “I am, as long as you're here as my anchor.” He dips down to nuzzle his nose against Mikey's, who laughs.
“Same here.” Mikey gets back in position, concentrating on the steady breathing beneath, and vice versa.
With the musicians' cats laying nearby, they bask in the nature, the sun, and one another's company.
•••
On Instagram, there is a photo of Mikey, his shades on for a cloudy, yet sunny, day. He is sitting erect at the cast aluminum table in the garden, holding a ripe and bitten yellow pear. For the person behind the camera, he displays an obviously content smile. He is wearing his Depeche Mode shirt with its sleeves cut off to resemble a tank top–the D in the band's name having been sliced in the process.
gerardway Happy Birthday to my best friend who inspires me every day. I'm so proud to see how far you've come and are doing much better than before. We've both gone through a lot of the same things over the years but have pulled through. Love you endlessly. Here's to more adventures together!
In Mikey's black and-white post several days after, he stands behind the Sleeping Beauty castle, holding his phone outward for a self-portrait. He wears a Mickey Mouse ears hat, which he had purchased from trips prior. In the next slide, Mikey poses with the rest of his family and friends–tagged gerardway, raytoro, crstoro, kristincolby and awstenknight–beaming for the camera. His niece and Ray and Christa’s son's faces are each hidden for privacy with a heart emoji. Bandit is held in Mikey's arms with one hand making the peace sign.
mikeywayofficial Got to celebrate the big 3 5 at none other than Disneyland! I am ever grateful that @gerardway was able to arrange this for me. And thank you to everybody who got to come with!