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It's not unusual for Mikey to wake up to one of Frank's nightmares. On any given night there's about a fifty-fifty split on whether or not he has one, and that's an improvement on when he first moved in with Mikey.
The thrashing and choked-off screams hardly even startle him now, so Mikey blinks awake, sitting up to judge how bad it is before intervening. Over time, he's been able to classify Frank's nightmares into two distinct categories.
The first are the ones that build up in him, drawing out startled noises and the occasional twitch of an expression, but otherwise resolving themselves without Frank waking up.
And then there's the kind Mikey is more accustomed to. The ones where the dream is so powerful — made up from real fragments of memory — that he can't pull himself out of it alone and Mikey needs to step in.
Judging by how loud Frank is being, by the way his limbs hit the bed as he tries to fend off something Mikey can't see, he decides it's the latter.
"Frank," he begins, hoping to wake him up before reaching out to touch. That might not end well. Once again, it's a fifty-fifty. "Frankie?"
His eyes crack open, the small lamp light gleaming off his blown out pupils as he stares at Mikey without seeing him, or seeing something else entirely. No way to know for sure.
"It's just a dream," Mikey murmurs, moving his hand closer to Frankie's pillow but not making contact. "You're okay. It was just a dream."
Maybe that isn't entirely true — after all, these dreams do come from somewhere — but something settles in Frank's body, turning it from rigid lines into the softer shape Mikey went to bed with last night.
His face is still unsure though, his hand unsteady as he reaches out for Mikey and grasps on like a lifeline.
"You're alright," Mikey repeats, rubbing his thumb against the back of his hand. Calm, easy statements work best here. "You're not there anymore, you're with me. We're—"
His own brain must still be clouded with sleep because he almost forgot where they were for a second. Not at their apartment, with it's familiar shapes and shadows, full of items he could use to get Frank to ground himself in the present.
It’s Geoff's place, which, while familiar in it's own right, holds little of that same comfort.
"We're in Geoff's apartment. Ours is still getting fixed, but we'll be back there soon. Can you repeat that back to me, Frankie?"
He shuffles closer to Mikey, wordlessly seeking out more comfort which Mikey is happy to offer him. He uses his free arm to tuck Frank's head against his chest, holding him close while his breathing evens out. A small whine still manages to slip out and Mikey runs his fingers through Frank’s hair.
“Puppy?”
"Geoff's place," Frank replies, his voice still somewhat distant. "We'll be back soon."
He'd been reluctant to bring Frank here, but they were pretty short on options. They couldn't stay while maintenance were doing repairs on their building, and going to Ray or Gerard would only complicate things since they don’t really get his and Frankie’s whole deal.
Geoff on the other hand, with all her own eccentricities, including her relationship with Tucker and Anthony, who wait on her hand and foot, has never questioned why their connection is the way it is. She invited them to stay without a moment's hesitation, letting Mikey set up Frank's dog bed and then telling him to move it to the living room if he liked. Whatever made Frank comfortable.
In return, Mikey has tried to make sure they cause Geoff as few issues as possible while they're here. He knows how stressful this is for Frank, being away from one of the few places he actually feels safe enough to relax, but he's been doing well so far.
Sure, neither of them have had a full night's sleep and Frank has barely eaten despite Geoff insisting he can take anything from the kitchen, but no-one has gotten hurt — on accident or otherwise — and Mikey hasn't had to pay for any damages.
Granted, he’s had to coax Frankie away from scratching at the soft furnishings a few times, but that was easily achieved by giving him something to fidget with.
All in all, it's been a huge success, a sign of how far they've come since Frank's early days with Mikey as his handler.
"Do you think we can get some more rest, Frankie?" Mikey asks once he senses Frank has calmed down enough to think clearly.
"Don't know," he mumbles, muffled by Mikey's shirt. "I don't wanna see it again."
"I'll wake you if you do," Mikey promises, smoothing down his hair before tucking his hand under the pillow. "It'll be good for us both to get a couple more hours, Frank."
It's a well-oiled tactic, getting Frank to do something because it would also be good for Mikey. It works because, despite everything Mikey has said or done to prove he's worthy of his care, Frank will still place Mikey's needs above his own regardless of how bad he feels.
Like always, it works like a dream, and Mikey soon finds his eyes slipping closed again.
They wake to the sound of Geoff rummaging around in her studio across the hall, doing something that involves clanging huge amounts of equipment together and humming along to the Beach Boys while she does it.
"How can one person make so much noise?" Frank groans, burying his head under the pillow.
"She's a creative," Mikey replies with a sigh. It's the excuse Gerard would come up with and it sounds about right.
Whatever remained of the night before is washed away as they go through their usual morning routine. Mikey has a shower and leaves Frank to have a bath since he hates the spray of the shower. While he gets dressed, Mikey grabs Frank's collar from the bedside table, rubbing his thumbs along the softened leather.
It's a simple and comfortable design, made to measure by Geoff when they needed something to replace that god-awful chain he came to them with, and Frank rarely goes without it. On occasion, Mikey struggle to get it off him when they go to bed since he's so attached to wearing it.
When he’s especially sensitive, he’ll look at Mikey with his big hazel eyes when he tries to take it off, acting like it’s just about the meanest thing Mikey could do to him. And he’s not made of stone, so he’s had to compromise in the past, allowing Frank to wear it in bed.
"Come here," Mikey commands, sitting on the edge of the bed with a voice still a little rough from sleep.
Frank is dressed in baggy clothes, hiding a figure that's still too thin for Mikey's liking, but he has to pick and choose his battles.
"Sit, puppy."
He lowers himself between Mikey's legs, upright on his knees so that Mikey can secure the collar around his neck, leaving enough space for two of his fingers to fit comfortably. As soon as it's in place, Frank's body relaxes against Mikey's, his expression taking on a proud gleam as his handler claims him the same way he does every morning.
"Good boy," Mikey says, petting Frank's hair as the praise shudders through him.
After all the stress of the apartment, he’d like to have a full scene with Frank, one that involves proper tasks and rewards. It’d be good for them both to get into the flow of it together, but Mikey doesn’t want Frankie getting too deep in that headspace outside of their apartment. It might be hard to bring him back down without the grounding nature inherent to their own space.
When they make their way to the kitchen, Geoff is already there in a flowy nightgown, flipping pancakes and making a mess all over the counters that will probably remain there for hours until either Tucker or Anthony comes by and cleans.
"Rise and shine, boys," Geoff greets, slightly too peppy for the early hour. "How would you rate your stay at Casa Rickly last night?"
"A solid three-and-a-half," Mikey replies. "But I'm open to changing my mind if breakfast is included."
Frank's stomach rumbles and Mikey turns his way just in time to catch the guilty look on his face before he tries to back out of the room.
"Frankie, stay," Mikey says, taking hold of his wrist so he can't leave.
"Sorry," Frank mutters, staring at the floor so he doesn't have to meet Mikey's stern gaze or Geoff's curious backwards glance.
"Here, I made enough for three," Geoff says, seamlessly cutting through the tension like it isn’t even there. "Get yourselves sat down and I'll fatten you up before you go off to change the world or whatever it is you do."
“Rehearse,” Mikey says flatly. “The changing the world shit is more Gerard’s thing.”
Frank sits down next to Mikey at the breakfast island, but he can tell how reluctant he is to eat anything Geoff has made. He thanks her without meeting her eyes and, even though there’s enough to for seconds, he eats slowly, arms up around his plate in a guarded position. It's like he's waiting for the moment she pulls it back and reveals it was all some cruel joke, he'll have to go without any food after all.
"How is it?" Geoff asks once she's sat down, still not quite ready for the day to start judging by her attire.
"Good," Frank replies with his mouth full. "Thanks."
Mikey smiles, rubbing Frank's back in calming circles where Geoff can't see.
He had been worried about how Frank would get on living with another person, even for a short period of time, but he must have underestimated how good-natured a person Geoff is. Everything about her is so inviting that even Frank, who views nearly everyone outside their band as a potential threat, has started to let down his guard around her.
The minutes slip away from them as Geoff and Mikey make small talk about the latest addition to the album they're working on, with Frank occasionally chiming in about the guitar parts or with praise for the others' playing.
"Hey, you're not so bad yourself," Geoff adds, easily picking up on the fact that Frank will never include himself when mentioning the band's success. "I saw you guys perform about a month ago and those fuckers in the crowd didn't know what to do with themselves when you were on stage. The energy was wild."
Frank bites back a smile at that, lowering his head to hide it, but Mikey catches on, offering Geoff a thankful nod.
Too quickly, they have to wrap things up and head off to rehearsal at a far dingier apartment to borrow another band's equipment.
It goes off pretty much seamlessly, with Frank and Ray's separate ideas for the guitar parts blending together beneath Gerard's vocals.
Frank is never more at peace with himself than when he's playing, as all of his focus, which is usually turned inwards, pulling at the threads of his barely-healed scars, is turned towards the music and the performance of it all.
When it's just the four of them, and the music is working together so well, it doesn't matter that Ray and Gerard don't really understand why it is Frank acts the way he does, or why Mikey treats him like he does. If it works, it works, and it absolutely does.
By the time they finish rehearsing, having taken a long lunch break to stretch their legs and eat the most unhealthy food they can find, the sun is just edging on the horizon, holding the threat of night above the city.
They enter Geoff's apartment just as Tucker and Anthony are leaving and Frank startles, obviously not expecting to have to do any more socialising today. He moves in front of Mikey in a protective stance, but Mikey quickly ducks out from behind him, holding his wrist.
"Hey, sorry we missed you guys," Mikey offers, not-so-subtly pulling Frank under his arm to keep him close. "Were you just heading off?"
"Don't sound too pleased, Mikey Way," Tucker replies with a grin that speaks of activities Mikey is very glad not to have interrupted. "How much longer are you and your boy here planning on taking up residence anyway?"
"Shouldn't be more than a couple days," Mikey says.
"Is that Mikey and Frank?" Geoff calls from the living room, as though they only come as a pair. This prompts Frank to give a quick hello and goodbye to the two of them before sneaking off to join her.
Mikey raises a brow, a little put-out since he usually sticks to Mikey like glue whenever they're around other people, but it must speak to how unsettled he is by this whole arrangement, as well as how comfortable he's getting around Geoff. She's familiar enough that he'd prefer to spend time with her rather than make small-talk with Tucker or Anthony.
Mikey says his own goodbyes as they leave, looking far too satisfied with themselves as far as he’s concerned.
"They seem to be getting along well," Mikey observes in the living room, sitting beside Frank who's on the very edge of the couch, as far from Geoff as he could possibly be while remaining on the same sectional.
"Anthony's been a dream," Geoff says, a lovesick smile overtaking her face. "He's really made Tucker buck his ideas up now that he's got a little healthy competition around."
"You are one twisted mind," Mikey replies, meeting Frank's eyes as they both grin.
Now that they're all in for the night, Geoff decides it's time for some trash reality television and orders takeout while they find a good show to watch.
"It's better than burning the kitchen down at this hour." she explains, handing the remote to Frank who looks at Mikey.
"Put on whatever you like," Mikey says.
"As long as it's high drama," Geoff calls out as she searches for better signal.
Frank struggles over this for a long time and Mikey watches him play with the new piercing through his lip while he searches for a show to watch.
The food has just arrived when Mikey gets a phone call from an unknown number. They exchange a few terse words and then he drops the phone in a huff, running a hand through his hair.
"Shit."
"What?" Frank asks, nudging even closer as his eyes widen. "What is it?"
"Nothing too bad, puppy," Mikey sighs, scratching behind his ear. "Just maintenance ran into an issue with the insurance company now apparently. They need me to come by and figure out the paperwork."
"But it's so late," Frank says, voice edging on a whine. He holds onto Mikey's arm like it's the only thing keeping him here. "Can I go with you?"
Mikey considers this for a moment, but he can’t imagine that ending well.
"No, you stay here, Frankie," Mikey is quick to reply.
He doesn't like to think about Frank finding strangers in his home, stomping all over his safe place and casting questioning glances at all the dog toys around when the apartment clearly specifies no pets are allowed.
"But—"
"It's a no, puppy," Mikey says in a sterner tone. The last thing he needs is a repeat of when their landlord showed up out of the blue.
It was for an unannounced inspection, but Frank couldn't process that when all he saw was a strange man entering their home without any warning. Mikey had to practically drag him to the bedroom and leave him there while he dealt with the situation, explaining that Frank had some sort of trauma response and that's why he reacted so strongly.
He was trying to protect his handler as well as his own space, and Mikey really doesn't want him to feel the need to do that again.
Frank knows better than to ask Mikey a third time, but that doesn't stop him from glancing around anxiously, as though trying to find a reason for Mikey to stay.
"It's alright, puppy," Mikey says, voice softening at the edges. "The sooner I sort this out, the sooner we can be back in our apartment. I just need you to wait here for now. Can you do that for me?"
Frank presses further into Mikey, trying to hide his head between Mikey’s shoulder and the couch cushion, so Mikey runs a hand through his hair and gently pulls him back.
"Settle, Frankie. I'll be back in a couple hours and you can stay with Geoff until then, okay?" Mikey glances at Geoff to check in with her, but she waves him off, mouthing that it's no big deal.
When Mikey glances back, Frank is already worrying the skin of his wrist with his sharp teeth, and Mikey grabs his hand to pull it away.
"None of that," he says, grabbing one of Frank's toys from his rehearsal bag so he can chew on that instead. "Just sit here and try to relax until I get back, okay?"
Frank's hand drifts up to his collar instead as he gazes uncertainly at Mikey's face, as though reassuring himself that he still belongs to Mikey. He just hopes reassurance is all Frank needs because he can't stand the thought of Frank pulling on it and hurting himself while Mikey isn't here to calm him down.
"Yeah, we can put a film on or something," Geoff adds, interrupting his thought spiral. "Reality TV can't match up to movie night anyway."
"Thanks, Geoff," Mikey says on his way out. He leaves Frank looking unsettled on the couch as he heads towards the door. With him out of earshot, he lowers his voice with Geoff. "Sorry about this. I really shouldn't be long. He’s— He’ll be fine."
"It's no worries," Geoff says, but that's easy to assume when she's never seen how freaked out Frank can get when Mikey leaves. It's like separation anxiety turned up to a thousand. "I feel like we'll have a good night."
"Just call me if you need anything."
"We'll be fine," Geoff says, taking on a more serious tone. "Seriously, Mikes, you've trained your boy so beautifully. He's impressed me so much while you've been here. Have a little faith in him." Geoff smiles, pushing Mikey out the door. "And yourself while you're at it."
Maybe Geoff does have a point there. Despite having Frank around for a couple of years now, there are days when Mikey questions if he's made any progress at all and if Mikey really is the best person for him.
When he flinches at every sudden movement or unexpected noise; when he curls up on the floor beside the bed because he doesn't accept that he's allowed on top of it; when he pleads with Mikey to get the punishment over with, waiting for a blow that never comes.
In those moments, Mikey finds himself at a loss. How can they ever move forward if Frank's brain keeps dragging him back to those places where Mikey can’t follow?
But then Mikey has to remind himself that a few bad days do not erase how far he has come.
Even Frank willingly sharing his worries when Mikey had to leave is something that would not have happened years ago. He would've kept them all to himself before curling up in a ball and scratching deep lines into his skin while his whole being shook with anxiety.
Times have changed.
Now Frank doesn't just seek him out when he's scared, he wants to be close to Mikey no matter what, whether that means curling up at his feet, laying his head in his lap or sleeping with their limbs twisted up in each other's.
He asks for food when he's hungry, he takes a nap in his bed when he feels like it, always keeping Mikey in his line of sight but otherwise able to calm himself down under the blanket with something to gnaw on.
Their apartment is full of evidence all pointing to how much Frank's quality of life has improved while he's been living with Mikey. Almost every available surface is filled with framed photos of them, or the band, or other friends they've made throughout the scene.
Frank's sheet music is strewn all over the place, along with the rudimentary notes Mikey makes to remember his bass parts. Their mismatched furniture holds a dozen memories of trips to flea markets, things picked up from the side of the road, or belongings passed down by family or friends.
Everything inside of their home is a testament to the past several years not just survived, but really lived — physical remnants of the experiences and people that have touched them.
It's easy to see how someone like Frank, who is so often at war with his own memories, would find the apartment a calming place to be. Each item grounds him to more recent events, ones without cages or chains or knuckles broken in a rage.
Mikey leaves the maintenance crew with the promise that it should be ready for their return in another day or two and he privately thinks that it can't come soon enough. After leaving and coming back so briefly, he finds himself missing the apartment more than he expected.
At first, he'd been distracted by how destabilising Frank would find it, but the familiarity of the place, its sights and smells and hard-won routines, is calling to him now.
He's bone-tired by the time he gets back to Geoff's place, entering to dim lights because the sun has long since set and Geoff hates to illuminate the place with the full wattage of her handmade chandelier.
It's quiet enough that Mikey softens his footsteps, realising they might have gone to bed in his absence. He finds that unlikely since Frank struggles getting to sleep on a good night, let alone one where Mikey is absent.
But then the glow of the TV screen beckons him into the living room where Geoff is still sitting up, sipping her tea as the credits roll on the movie.
To her left, Frank is laid down, the top of his head just barely grazing her thigh as she pets his hair in slow, feather-light motions. His breath comes out in slow, quiet puffs as he drifts through what appears to be a dreamless sleep.
Mikey has never been the most expressive person, but it takes a lot to swallow down the swell of affection inside him.
For so long, he's thought of his relationship with Frank as mainly a survival tactic. It feels good to help, sure, and Frank's devotion is a gift, but he started doing it because he was going to hurt himself otherwise, and badly. And maybe Mikey needed someone to give him a bit of purpose, too.
But now, seeing Frank comfortable enough with another person to allow himself to be pet, Mikey can see a life together beyond all that survival. Something beyond training and discipline, too. This is trust, bright and hopeful, and Mikey's heart grows several sizes as Geoff glances up at him with a knowing smile.
Have a little faith, she'd told him. Well, if this is the sight he gets to come home to at the end of the day, if Frank will keep choosing to place his own faith in Mikey every morning, then that shouldn’t be too hard.