When We All Fall Down

3) The Missing Link

Two hours later Mikey was still missing, and Gerard was having a breakdown. He felt as if a part of him was missing, like he was hollow. Mikey was a part of his life for practically all of his. Now that he's missing, what was going to happen? He needs to protect his little brother.

But what if there's nothing to protect?

Gee started to smoke, it was one of his nervous habits he picked up again. Frank watched as the smoke curled around his dark locks and flew up towards the ceiling. The whisps of white ghostly tendrils made their way between his lashes, curling out of his mouth and parting ways when his button-nose met it in the middle. He was a beautiful man, dark hair contrasting against pale skin. It sounded like something out of Twilight, but personally, Frank was team Jacob.

Ray himself was beautiful in his own way, Frank thought. Even though Ray thought himself to be the least good-looking out of the group Frank still thought he had his own unique look. His brown hair sprouted in curls around his head, and that made him stand out from the group. He had a bigger build than the boys and huge hands, which didn't seem to faze Mikey when they non-homosexual-ly make out. Dark circles under his eyes and cuts on his lips. He was worried. They all were. Gerard for his brother, Ray for his boyfriend and Frank for his best friend.

All Frank was was a small emo boy with a sweater and a mohawk.

"We need to do something," said Gerard after a while, "because my brother is fucking lost." His voice broke and he shook, stubbing his cigarette on the wall, right over a pool of blood.

"Where would Bob go? He probably took Mikey." Ray suggested.

Frank thought for a second. "Back to Pennsylvania?"

"No, no. That's too easy." Gerard sighed. He slumped back and Frank saw tears in his eyes.

"Maybe he's still here somewhere. He can't go anywhere during the day and he has an extra body now."

"Great thinking, Frank." Ray complimented. He walked across the room with long strides and picked up a map. He spread it out on the wall and kept it up with some sillier daggers in their weapons bag. With a sharpie he drew a line over Kansas City and a circle around it.

"This is where we are." He said, pointing at the line. "This is where be could be right now. It's nearly six, so he probably found a place to stay by now."

"A motel?" Asked Frank. And then he regretted it. Why would a kidnapper bring his hostage to a motel? "Or another abandoned town?"

Gerard squinted his eyes at the map. "Or a city. A populated one. They wouldn't care about another dead body."

"So that means either here," Ray drew a line over a city a few miles away on the map, and another on the other side. "Or here."

They were both big cities and they were relatively close by.

"We should scour around here tomorrow, first." Frank suggested. He fell backwards. "Until then, goodnight."

And before anyone could tell him no, he fell asleep.

0000

Looking around abandoned cities aren't as easy as it seems. On one hand, yes, it's hella empty, but on the other, it's a big area and the thing or person that you're looking for can hide fairly easily. But after about three hours of searching in 100 degree heat, the boys loaded up into the van and drove to the next location.

Gerard say in the front again, his phone charging and his headset on. His hazel eyes reflected the scenes running by the window. Frank saw the look on his face, the longing to protect his baby brother.

Frank was disappointed. He really thought big was stupid enough to stay in the city. I guess not.

0000

((Mikey))

It was so dark.

His wrists were bound behind his back, the rough rope biting his skin. Hands cold. Legs asleep and toes numb. Soft silk cloth was tied over his eyes, he could a faint light through it. What was he tied to? Ah, a chair. If he moved, his wrists would scratch against the restricting rope. Not moving is the better choice.

A door flew open and Mikey shivered as the cold wind hit his bare torso. Whoever this person was, they had stolen his shirt.

"Who are you?" He croaked. His voice sounded foreign to himself. It was deep and husky, and not in the sexy way. He took another shaky breath and reassessed his situation. The last person he saw was Bob. "Bob?" He asked. "Is that you?"

"So many questions." A voice said. "So little time. Wouldn't you agree?" It was a low voice, not that of a woman, but not that of a very burly man either. Mikey could take this man, whoever he was.

"Do you work for Bob?"

"Questions, my boy. We don't have time."

The blindfold was removed from his face and he squinted his eyes at the silhouette in front of him.

The man was a scrawny boy, long hair and dark skin. "My name is Drake. I'm a friend of Bob. He took you and my job is to keep you alive until the other party holds up their end of the bargain."

"Other party?"

"Someone wants you, Mikey-boy. And they're going through extreme lengths to get you."

"Me?"

"Did I stutter?"

Mikey was silent for a moment. "Who?"

Smirking, the man leaned in onto Mikey. He rested his hands on his shoulders and bent over, his face directly in from of Mikey's as if he was to kiss him.

"You should," he said, and Mikey felt his hot breath on the side of his face, "say hi to dear mommy and daddy."

And the two people that Mikey wanted to protect, the two that he didn't want caught up in all this bullshit, the two people he hoped to never see again walked into the room.

"Mom? Dad?"

And then they were gone.

In Drake's eyes glinted a magical purple light. It swirled like the smoke of a cigarette and disappeared.

"What are you?" Whispered Mikey.

Drake laughed. "Gay. Oh, wait you were talking about the magic trick. I'm a sorcerer. Not as cool as you think, all I can do is make things disappear and reappear, kill people or help them alive, or make people hallucinate." He smiled a smile and tapped Mikey's forehead.

"Dinner is in about half an hour. See you then, Mikey-boy." And the blindfold was on his face and the door slammed shut.

And he could hear the sudden drips of his blood coming off of his wrists as he attempted once again to get loose. His wrists were rubbed raw.

Drip

Drop

Drip