trees

19.

By the light of his desk lamp, and with his one good hand, Mikey had managed to pack up all of the things he thought he would need for his indefinite journey into his old school backpack. He was kind of shaking, half due to the excitement and adrenaline that comes with your usual jailbreak, and half because of his crippling fear of getting caught, but at least once he left that goddamn house he'd be home free.

The fact that there was a chance that he'd never have to step foot in his room again was enough to bring a smile to his face as he slung the backpack over his shoulder and gently shut the door from the outside.

"You're still here?"

Mikey froze, turning towards the sound of the voice, mentally preparing to fuck shit up if he needed to, but nope, it was just Gerard, standing in the hallway with a mug that was either filled with paint water or old coffee. He was like a shadow in the night, and Mikey hated him.

Scowling, Mikey flipped his brother off and pushed past him to get to the stairs, but Gerard took ahold of one of the straps on the other's backpack and pulled him back.

"What the hell do you want?" Mikey said, hushed, just in case, even though the walls were so thick that nobody on the outside would be able to hear him scream. "I have places to be."

"I love you, Mikey," Gerard said, and oh, great, he'd only gotten in the way of Mikey's master escape plan just so that he could be sappy. "I'm sorry."

Mikey looked up at his brother, searching his eyes for a sign that he was lying, looking for the glint that usually implied a joke, but his hazel irises were empty and dull and sober and serious. Ouch.

"I know I've been shitty and all," Gerard continued, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry. I really am."

And Mikey couldn't fathom what possessed him to do so, but he found himself with his arms wrapped around his brother in a death embrace or something of the sort. Gerard froze for a second, probably shocked that Mikey was capable of feeling emotion, before resting his cheek on the top of the other's head and hugging him back. Sorry wasn't enough, it could never be, but at least Gerard meant it. A coward wouldn't mean it.

It took a moment for Mikey to come to his senses and remember what he was supposed to be doing before he pulled away, crossing his arms so that he was back in character. "You're going to be okay?" he asked.

"I'll be okay when you are," Gerard responded, and he took a sip from the mug he was holding. Mikey really hoped that it contained coffee and not paint water. "Now get out of here. It's supposed to rain tonight."

Mikey offered a tiny smile before continuing down the hallway, and behind him he heard Gerard shuffling his way back to his room; the former reached the top of the stairs before hesitating and looking back. "Wait, Gee."

Gerard replied with a, "yeah?"

"I love you, too," Mikey said, and before he could listen to his brother's response he bounded down the stairs, hopping over the creaky bottom step and making a very quiet run towards the back door. Home free, home free, home free.

-

It had started raining about halfway through Mikey's half hour trek across town, and by the time Mikey found himself standing outside of Pete's house, he was drenched to the fucking bone. It had been raining way too much that summer.

It was then, as he stood in Pete's driveway, staring at the windows with their blinds closed and lights off on the inside, that Mikey realized that he didn't know what to do next. He guessed that he hadn't thought that'd he'd actually make it that far; in an alternate universe, he would've gotten caught before leaving the house, or he would've gotten too scared and backed down.