Xanax, Sorrow, and Love (A Mikey Way Fanfiction)

Rain

Mikey and I relaxed on the couch. Well, not necessarily Mikey; he was raving about rabbits hang-gliding on tortilla chips. He overdosed on Xanax, again. I also believed that he was drunk again. I'd been leaving him to his own devices for the past few days. After all, it's been about two weeks since the major incident, and forty minutes since the most recent one.
I flipped the TV to the weather station. "It'll be cloudy today with an 80% chance of rain..." The weatherman waved his baton-stick thing all over the screen, revealing a little belt of animated rain like I didn't know it was there already. Mikey frowned at the weatherman's announcement.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Rain..." Mikey said. "Rain is just really unhappy sometimes..." He shook his head and looked at his Harley Davidson throw blanket that he apparently got as a housewarming gift from Gerard's (boy)friend, Frank.

"Maybe we should go to the park today," I said, out of the blue.

"But it's gonna rain,"

"So? The park has those little shelter thingies,"
"But it'll be cold."
"It's the middle of spring, dumbass,"
"Yeah, but it still might be cold."
"Then you can bring a jacket."

"Fine," Mikey said, slugging me on the shoulder while smirking. "You win."
He got up to go and get dressed, but I stopped him. "Mikey, you should probably wait to get dressed until you can tell the difference between your pants and the blades of the ceiling fan." He blankly obliged.

********
I leaned back and looked out one of the large living room windows at the huge, grey clouds and the minuscule droplets of rain that were begginning to fall. Rain? Unhappy? I thought. Fuck that. Rain is beautiful. I fixed myself a cup of coffee, and Mikey came down the stairs, leaving a faint trail of Old Spice scent behind him.
What is it with guys and their cologne? Well, if it made him feel better...

"Are we gonna go to the park?" He asked, wearing his signature Anthrax shirt, skinny jeans, black beanie, and glasses.

"Let me finish my coffee," I said, raising my mug to my face with both hands and taking a sip.

"Okay," He sat on the kitchen stool next to me and stared at my face.

"Dude," I said.

"Am I bothering you?" He laughed.

"Possibly," I said, smirking a little. He stared harder.

"How about now?" He started laughing.

"Yes, you little asswipe! Fuck off!" I pushed him away playfully, laughing along.

********

After about five minutes, my coffee was reduced to dregs and it was pouring outside. "Are you sure you still want to go?" Mikey asked, looking out the window on the door at the steady stream of water falling from the crack in the porch cover.
We needed to get that fixed, badly.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Then let's go," Mikey said, grabbing the keys to the car from a hook beside the front door.

As soon as Mikey opened the door, the overwhelming crash of rain pouring on every surface it could reach blasted into the house and our ears. Thunder rang loudly somewhere in the distance. We looked at each other, then outside, then at each other again. At last, we both smirked and dashed out the door (after closing and locking it, of course).

The road was slick from rain, the drops splashing on the wet pavement. Every once in a while, a pair of yellow headlights would zoom foreward until you could see the windshield wipers going back and forth, then a vroom and a splash and they were gone, never to be seen again. The world was a bleak shade of grey, the sun hiding completely behind dense clouds; though it was ablaze in light a couple of times every minute as lighting cracked towards the earth.