one more troubled soul » petekey

Thirteen

"Some silences are heavy;
sagging under the weight
of words left unsaid."
- J.M. Green

Ryan fell asleep almost as soon as Pete had managed to figure their way out of his town, and Mikey read aloud directions, the faint glow of the iPhone screen lighting up his smile. Pete caught it just as it began to turn into a frown.

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely crushed. Things seemed to have been picking up steam, for all of them. Pete's walls had dropped for the time being and Mikey's too, and they had acquired some lovely new cargo. Pete was sure all of them would be better off with Ryan in the car. He had just started getting used to to the light air and hopefulness, he wasn't quite ready to let it slip through his shaky fingers.

"Traffic," Mikey replied, bitter as grapefruit. "Your phone. It says there's a ton of traffic if we go west."

"What about north? Or south? We can afford a detour," Pete said. He wasn't wrong either. Pete's trip so far had been more detours than tours, and now he couldn't have imagined or even wanted it another way. Roadblocks, rain, hitchhikers and graffiti artists—they were all here for a reason. And so was the traffic.

Mikey dabbled on his phone for a moment before shrugging. "South looks at least a little bit clearer. Maybe head that way?"

"I did wanna stop at Nashville, actually," Pete replied, shrugging. "South it is." He smiled into the darkness in front of him. He caught a glimpse of Ryan sleeping in his rearview mirror, smirking and letting out the slightest chuckle. "Look at him. All tuckered out."

Mikey took a glance as well, and while his smile widened, the light in his eyes began to fade. "Yeah," he whispered, suddenly making Pete aware of how loud he'd been. "Who wouldn't be? After everything..." He trailed off. He didn't need to continue, of course, there was an unspoken hurt and understanding. The space between all three of them was crippling and empowering. They were stronger both with and without each other. They were just that--strong.

Mikey crawled over the center console, digging in the back for a blanket. He pulled one from underneath all the travel debris that had begun to pile up, and shook various crumbs and snacks out of it, shaking his head lovingly. With a clean blanket in hand, he slowly draped it over Ryan, who only whimpered lightly, nuzzling against the window. "Shh..." Mikey cooed, taking a gentle moment to run a comforting hand through his hair and down his cheek. Pete eyed him every now and then, trying hard to focus on the road but failing. It wasn't easy when Mikey was being Father of the Year. Mikey finally stopped, much to Pete's dismay and relief, and settled back into the passenger seat.

"That magic touch!" Pete exclaimed, still shouting more than he intended. Mikey pushed a finger to his lips and rolled his eyes. Pete gave him a quick kiss on his finger, blushing immediately. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so intimate with someone. In fact, he couldn't remember any time. He felt himself starting to fall again, unwillingly throwing himself deep into the past, into a place and time he'd only wished to run away from. His past. His broody, lonely excuse for an existence. He scraped the edges of his brain for anything, something redeemable. But nothing came up. He recalled countless and seemingly endless nights of drinking, smoking, fucking--destroying himself in order to create something. And yet, all he'd ever created was chaos. All he'd ever wreaked was havoc. As he felt Mikey's finger leave his lips, he glanced at it, surprised that he didn't leave a scar.

He felt Mikey's eyes on him, dark and beautiful and burning. They were melting his skin and his skull and delving into his brain and what little he must've had of a troubled soul. Pete grimaced. Mikey had somehow developed a sort of sixth sense somehow, picking up on Pete's sadness and anxiety. It was sort of a blessing, and most definitely a curse. "What?" Mikey asked. His voice was genuine in all different ways. Genuinely concerned, genuinely exhausted.