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Something’s wrong with Gerard tonight. Frank isn't quite sure what it is, but there's something in the way he held himself before taking stage.
His shoulders are tense, back straight and he gripped the microphone in his hand firmly hands shaking from the force a little. That was normal though, the whole band was always tense before a show.
No, what's different tonight is the wicked grin spread across his lips. The way his eyes are blown wide and flicker back and forth from band member to band member.
“Gee,” Frank said in a careful voice. “You good?”
“Great!” Gee replied earnestly. “Let's make this one hell of a show!”
Frank shared a wary expression with Ray as Mikey smiled wide and nodded. Mikey was always the most willing to match Gerard’s energy, no matter what M.O.A.T had done to him to try and break his will, he always stuck by Gerard’s side.
Frank can't say that Gerard matched the energy though. Well, in fact, he can't actually remember if Gerard did. It's all getting fuzzy, little static images of the past now and then flashing in his mind but nothing concrete.
He’s been trying not to let it get to him. That he’s losing grip on reality, he doesn't know what is and isn't real anymore.
The band took the stage, being directed by the guards and staff, who all watched them with careful eyes.
The show goes mostly as planned. It feels familiar, and it feels different. Frank doesn't have much memory of the last show, which he's pretty sure is the only show they've done so far. Ray’s been telling him that's not entirely true but Frank isn't sure how much he believed him.
He resisted as much as he could while still doing what was told. Messed around with a daring grin because he’s not gonna be some mindless puppet without putting up a fight. His fingers fly fast over his guitar, the notes dancing with Ray’s and he can feel himself getting a little lost in the music.
At least that part is easy. Frank can out the entire performing as punishment bit aside and focus on music for a bit. How the music makes him feel alive, how he can just get lost in it.
He and Ray are stuck on their sides of the stage, forbidden from leaving their halves and they never really interact during the show. Frank misses his friend, but he won't risk Ray’s safety by leaving.
Mikey and Gerard don't have the same restrictions though, Frank’s not sure why, but the brothers are free to roam as they please.
That, at least, is something to look forward to.
Mikey’s been roaming to his side of the stage a lot lately, and Frank tried to play it cool every time the bassist came up to him, grinning ear to ear like they weren't being forced to perform like play things.
His eyes would sparkle and his smile would grow as he got closer to Frank, and Frank was helpless to do anything but smile back at Mikey. His one light in the pitch dark black that is their world lately.
Frank can ignore the Dictator watching over, the calculating gaze of the Clerk and Secretary, the guards staring them down. He can ignore all of it when Mikey gets close to him. When Mikey chooses to waltz over and pose, showing off his bass as an excuse to dwindle at Frank’s side of the stage longer.
Frank tries to ignore it. That fluttering feeling in his stomach, the way his heart ached deep in his chest. He had more important things to worry about, like fearing for his life. No time for fluttery feelings and school girl crushes.
His heart didn't really get that memo, skipping a beat whenever Mikey would meet his gaze.
They get halfway through the show easily, Frank losing himself in the music and Mikey’s eyes until that sudden weird feeling came back.
It’s unshakable this time, stomach sinking to the ground in anticipation. Something was off, something was wrong.
Frank’s eyes darted over the audience, trying to see if something was happening in the crowd, but they cheered and screamed, none the wiser.
Frank turned to look at Gerard, who’s grinning maniacally at the podium as they bring the hostages out.
Frank tried not to think about the hostages, about how it was apparently the band’s duty to make an example of them. When they had been told to execute them publicly for their transgressions against Draag, Frank had wanted to argue.
But he wasn't the leader, and Gerard had accepted with that crazed look in his eyes.
The sinking feeling increased in his stomach as Gerard went on and on, getting the crowd to vote.
He’s not really paying attention, trying to tune out Gerard making their execution a game. Something funny to vote on and not a real life that matters.
He's still tuned out as Gerard went on about parking validation, laughing a little as the audience cheered.
As the audience voted, Gerard came over to Frank, leaning to whisper in his ear.
“I’m gonna let them go,” Gerard mumbled and Frank chuckled, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah right,” He mumbled back, because there was no way Gerard was that stupid.
Gerard walked to the dead mic, mumbling something nonsensical and Frank shook his head as Gerard returned to his podium.
“Yeah, we gotta let ‘em go.” Gerard said with a grin and Frank felt his heart stop for a moment as he turned wide eyed at him. “You guys are free to go!”
Frank turned to Gerard wide eyed as the guards escorted the hostages away from their platform.
They had been told to kill them, threatened to, at risk of their own lives. What the hell was Gerard planning pulling a stunt like this?
Frank shared a worried look with Ray across the stage, who frowned at Frank with similar concern swimming in his eyes. Even the Secretary seemed to be looking at Gerard with confusion. Or, Frank assumed she was, her brows knit together over her sunglasses she never took off. Mikey stood holding his bass, his expression pretty blank but his eyes were glued on his brother.
Gerard jumped into announcing the next song and Frank had to swallow past his confusion and concern as he played the next song. Mikey came over to him once more, his presence warm and he seemed almost entirely unaffected by the lack of execution.
Frank wanted to ask if he knew something since he didn't seem worried, but Frank can spot the slight furrow of his brow. Mikey’s confused and worried too, but he's ignoring it all.
Frank nodded to himself, trying to relax and just play. If Mikey can continue playing, so can Frank.
It takes a few songs, but Frank is able to get back into his normal groove. Swallowing past his concern and fear, losing himself in the music.
His wrist ached a little, fingers hurting like he's played the song a million and one times, but Frank can't remember playing it more than once before. It’s engrained in him, muscle memory the way his fingers spread across frets and jump from one chord to another.
Eventually, the world washed away again, and he shut his eyes as he forced the rest of his energy into the last song. He knows they're going to be removed from the stage soon, that the show will end and they'll end up back in their empty rorting cells with nothing but water and medical check ups until the next show.
Frank wanted to hold onto this last moment, to breathe fresh air and pretend he's having fun for one last moment.
There's some sort of commotion that Frank tried to ignore because he knew it was probably Gerard pulling some sort of stunt again.
Mikey came to his side and Frank kept his head low as he played the last fifteen seconds of the song.
A thud, but Frank can hear Mikey’s bass still playing so he doesn't question it.
It’s not until he's strumming out the last few notes of the song he opened his eyes again.
The first thing he saw was Mikey on the ground, blood soaking the front of his shirt with two torn stab wounds. His face is paled and his eyes blink slowly as his fingers weakly continue strumming the bass, like he has to keep playing no matter what.
The last few chords of the song are entirely forgotten as Frank’s heart shattered in his chest and he looked up to meet the eyes of the Clown, who stared at Frank in horror.
“What did you do?!” Frank shouted, because the Clown wasn't meant to do this. He wasn't meant to do anything. “What did you do?!?”
“He- He told me!” The Clown shouted urgently back and for a moment Frank thinks he means the Dictator.
Until the Clown gestured at Gerard, who’s standing in the middle of the stage with a grin and folded hands.
Frank felt sick and bent down to pick up Mikey, to try and pull him off the stage, to get out of there and get him help.
His heart shatters even more somehow when Mikey, despite bleeding out and losing consciousness slowly, weakly reached up for him.
The Clown moved forward to do- Well, Frank’s not sure what he was trying to do, but he felt anger erupt in his chest, setting Mikey down and turning to shove the Clown away with an angry grunt.
“Get back!” Frank shouted fiercely and the Clown looked at him, terrified but stayed back as he continued trying to explain it wasn't his fault.
Frank moved to pick up Mikey again, who’s eyes meet his weakly. They suddenly widen in terror and before Frank can ask why, a hood is almost thrown over his head.
He swerved, dodging it only for the guard to sling his arm around Frank’s neck, pulling him backwards and off the stage.
Away from Mikey.
Frank flailed about in the hold, legs kicking out as he tried to fight against the captive grip. He didn't care what his punishment was, he needed to get to Mikey. He needed to make sure he was okay, he needed to get him help.
Distantly, Frank can hear the audience suddenly shout in surprise, and he isn't sure what's happened as he's thrown in the temporary holding cell. Locked away until they're transported back to M.O.A.T.
Scrambling to his knees, Frank rushed forward and grabbed at the bars, shaking them.
“Let me out!” He shouted as the guards walked away without so much a second look. “Get back here and let me out or I’ll tear your arms off!”
“Dramatic.” Gerard’s voice rang and Frank’s eyes flicked over to find him standing in front of the temporary holding cell, that wide crazed look in his eyes still. Hands folded neatly in front of him and smiling.
“What did you do?” Frank growled and Gerard’s eyebrows raised high at his barking tone.
“Down boy,” Gerard said and then knelt before Frank with a sympathetic expression. “You don't remember, so you aren't going to understand.”
“I understand perfectly well that you're insane!” Frank snapped and Gerard grinned as he knelt down to meet his height.
“I am, this place has made me so!” Gerard cheered. “The fact of the matter is simply that I remember all of it, and you don't. No matter what they do to me, I remember it. And I am so sick of dying every night, I wanted a break. Mikes and Ray will be fine, they'll put ‘em back together and none of you will even remember!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank growled and Gerard sighed, something deeply saddened crossing his expression.
“Exactly.” Gerard mumbled. “I was hoping you of all people would remember but... No. Did you know this isn't our first show?”
“Yeah,” Frank mumbled, confused. “We did one last week.”
Gerard’s expression grew into something curious, fascinated.
“You’re remembering.” Gerard noted. “Do you remember how that show ended?”
Frank frowned but tried to think, frown deepening when all that comes up is gray fuzz. He shook his head and Gerard sighed, patting his head placatingly.
“Maybe you will eventually.” Gerard said and stood up. “Then you'll understand why I did what I did. I needed a break, so I took my chance.”
Gerard walked away with that, hands folded behind his back and head held high, Frank shaking the bars in an attempt to get loose.
Two sets of guards come over, dragging Mikey and Ray’s dead bodies. Frank felt sick watching as they drag Ray away to his own separate cell with Gerard. He never even noticed he'd been stabbed as well.
He doesn't get time to focus on it because his cell is opened and Mikey’s bleeding body is tossed into the cell with him.
Frank rushed to his side, heart racing in panic as he carefully pulled Mikey’s head to rest in his lap.
“Mikey? Mikes? Hey, hey,” Frank snapped his fingers and Mikey’s eyes opened slowly, dazed and confused. “You're gonna be okay.”
“Ow,” Mikey grumbled in response and Frank huffed, shaking his head in amusement. “That hurt.”
“You got stabbed,” Frank explained. “That kind of thing usually hurts.”
“Ugh,” was Mikey’s only response and he settled in Frank’s lap, turning his head to press against Frank’s thigh. After a long moment, he swallowed thickly. “You okay?”
Frank swallowed thickly and moved his hand to run through Mikey’s short hair.
“Yeah,” Frank informed. “He didn't get me.”
“Good.” Mikey mumbled and frowned. “Got Ray though.”
“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “But Ray’s gonna be okay, right? Secretary is probably pulling a million strings to get him help right now.”
Mikey laughed at that before immediately wincing in pain.
Another long beat of silence passed before Mikey spoke again.
“Is Gee okay?” Mikey asked, brows furrowed in concern and it made Frank feel sick to see him so worried.
He knows telling Mikey this is all Gerard’s fault isn't going to help any though, so Frank just sighed deeply.
“Yeah, they didn't get him either.” Frank explained and Mikey nodded gently.
“Okay,” He mumbled and leaned his head back into Frank’s gentle touches. “This is nice.”
“Bleeding out in my lap is nice?” Frank asked and Mikey shook his head.
“No,” Mikey said with a wince. “No, the bleeding out part sucks. The in your lap bit is nice though. We should do this more often.”
“Please don't.” Frank paled, shaking his head. “My lap is free anytime you need it, just don't get stabbed again, okay?”
“Mm,” Mikey hummed and sighed. “Won’t have to worry about next time.”
“Don't say that.” Frank said in a tight voice. “You're gonna be fine. Gerard said they're gonna put you and Ray all back together. It's- You’re gonna be fine.”
“Tired.” Mikey informed, eyes blinking heavily and slowly. Frank shook him a little and he groaned in pain.
“Don't sleep.” Frank said urgently. “I think I read that's like- That's bad. Stay awake, come on.”
“Can’t.” Mikey sighed as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “Sorry.”
“Mikey?” Frank questioned as the taller man’s eyes slid shut. Fear gripped Frank’s heart tight and squeezed, making him feel a bit as if he were choking. “Hey, hey! Stay awake.”
“Mngh,” Mikey grumbled, not opening his eyes but he moved a bit to more comfortably rest in Frank’s lap.
Frank didn't know what to do, he couldn't help, couldn't save Mikey. He knew the guards were useless, it would take all night for them to get back to their normal cells and the nurses would be too late then.
He felt helpless and Mikey had seemed to accept his fate, settling in to rest against Frank’s thigh until his lungs stopped breathing.
“You can't die.” Frank mumbled shakily. “You can’t die because I can't do this without you, man.”
“Sorry,” Mikey mumbled, brows furrowed. His eyes open a sliver and try to meet Frank’s, but look right past him. “I really am.”
Frank let out a sob as Mikey’s breathing slowed, not stopped, not yet, but slowed.
Mikey didn't say anything else, didn't try to open his eyes again, just laid on Frank’s lap peacefully, like he was just settling for an afternoon nap and not accepting his fate.
Frank sobbed softly under his breath, holding Mikey close with a heavy heart.
Their temporary holding cells have the cloaks draped over the bars, encasing them in darkness before they start sharking about, being moved for transport.
Frank didn't care about any of it, simply holding Mikey tight as his breathing got slower and slower.
When Frank’s barely sure Mikey’s even still alive, he pressed a soft, shaking kiss to his forehead before closing his eyes and settling back against the wall.
The next morning, Frank woke up to someone shaking his shoulders.
Frank jolted awake violently, eyes wide and in panic mode, swinging to punch whoever was disturbing him.
His fist is caught quickly and he turned, being met with Mikey giving him an unimpressed expression.
“Dude.” Mikey deadpanned and Frank’s eyes widened.
“You’re okay!” He shouted, scrambling forward and pulling him into a tight hug.
Mikey raised an eyebrow and awkwardly hugged him back.
“Uh, I mean, sleeping was rough but... yeah?” Mikey said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah!” Frank said and leaned back to look at Mikey. His eyes roamed over his to check that he really was okay, frowning a little as he looked at the clean and pressed uniform. “Your unfirom...”
“Uhm, what about my uniform?” Mikey questioned and laughed lightly. “It looks just like yours. Minus the sleeves.”
“Did they give you a new one?” Frank asked, fingers gently roaming over where he’s been stabbed. Mikey didn't react one bit to his fingers grazing over the spot.
“No?” Mikey mumbled. “Frank, you're being weird.”
“I’m not the one who got stabbed last night!” Frank shouted and Mikey’s eyebrows shot to his forehead.
“Someone got stabbed last night?” He asked incredulously and Frank’s eyes widened in confusion.
“You did!” He shouted and Mikey gave Frank a concerned look.
“Pretty sure I didn't.” Mikey said then groaned. “I feel like I got stabbed though, shoulder hurts like crazy.”
Frank reached forward, beginning to undo Mikey’s uniform jacket and Mikey chuckled nervously but didn't stop him.
“Buy me dinner first.” Mikey teased and Frank scoffed as he pushed the jacket off to pull down Mikey’s shirt collar, exposing the areas he'd been stabbed.
There's a wound there, but it looked a little older that a night old and Frank frowned.
Mikey frowned too looking at the wound.
“What the hell?” He mumbled. “When did that get there?”
“Why does it look so old?” Frank asked and then looked at Mikey as a thought crossed his mind. “Why were you waking me up?”
“We have a show tonight?” Mikey reminded. “We have to do sound check.”
“No, we had a show last night,” Frank said with a frown. “We aren't meant to do another one for a few more days.”
“I think you hit your head.” Mikey teased. “First show’s tonight.”
“No,” Frank grumbled, growing a little frustrated as he shook his head. “We already played a show, next show isn't for a few days.”
Someone out in the halls called for the guards to get the band in order and get ready for sound check and Mikey made a told you so face.
“That doesn't make any sense.” Frank muttered under his breath and Mikey pulled away from him, fixing his jacket.
“Do you need to see Sylvia?” Miley asked. “Hit your head or something?”
“You died last night,” Frank informed and Mikey sighed. “You bled out in my lap. The Clown stabbed you.”
“I think you just had a nightmare,” Mikey tried to comfort and settled his hand on Frank’s shoulder. “We can talk more later, okay? We gotta get to sound check though.”
Mikey got to his feet and motioned for Frank to get up. Frank swallowed thickly but shakily got to his feet, shaking his head in confusion.
Did he have it all wrong? Just a terrible nightmare that's somehow manifested itself as a memory? That has been a pretty shaky thing for him lately, it isn't too out there. Maybe he's having a medication side effect, hallucinations and mixed reality or something.
Frank ran his hands through his hair with a huff, ready to try and just dismiss all of it as a mis-memory.
Until he looked at his nails.
Under the edges which were usually cut impossibly short so he could play guitar, there's blood crusted under.
Nausea boils in Frank’s stomach as his eyes flicked to Mikey, who gave him a worried yet comforting little smile.
They meet up with Ray, who’s also perfectly alive and unharmed, and Gerard, who’s looking at Frank with an expectant expression.
Gerard cocked his head to the side, a silent question, a silent check, does Frank even remember?
Frank swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the fear, the confusion, the nausea, and he nodded.
Gerard’s smile grew a little, and his eyes grew a little more wild.
He came over to Frank’s side, and Frank ignored the weirded out look Mikey and Ray gave the duo as Gerard leaned down to whisper in Frank’s ear.
“You get it now, right?” Gerard asked and Frank’s jaw clenched. “That was me every night, I just needed a break.”
“Don’t pull that shit again.” Frank hissed back at him. “I can't again.”
Gerard simply gave him a smile before walking off to grab the mic.
Frank isn't sure what any of this means, but he knows he's not letting them hurt Mikey again.
Images of Mikey’s vacant gaze staring up at him, his warn blood pooling from his chest, it’ll haunt him for the rest of his life.
He's not letting Gerard pull that stunt again.