Let The Flames Begin ✓ | Mikey Way

Chapter Six

Dedication to ThnksFrThWntz. Thanks for being an amazing friend, and for supporting this story! Check out their works, they have a Brendon Urie fic and a Patrick Stump one!

"Kris." Mikey groaned. I was spending the night at Mikey and Gerard's house, and both of them had refused to let me sleep on the couch on the floor, but I had refused to let one of them do so. After a good five minutes of arguing, we decided that I was going to share the bed with Mikey.

"What?" I hissed. I had almost fallen asleep, but he kept annoying me.

"You're hogging the covers." He whisper-shouted back. I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me in the dark. "God, I can just feel you rolling your eyes."

"Shut up," I mumbled while rolling over and pulling the covers with me.

"Goddamit Kris."

"Maybe you should move closer to me." I murmured, not realizing what I was saying in my half-asleep state. So I was surprised when I felt the warmth of his body on my back, and his arm slipped around my waist.

"Your hair does smell good." He noted, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck.

I rolled my eyes, but in a good kind of way, as I was also smiling. "Goodnight Mikey."

"Mmh. Good night Kris."

*Mikey's POV *

"Hey, there's this new necklace called a noose, you should try it, fag!" They laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Then came the beatings. First, it was simple, the shoving into the locker. Then the hits came. To the face, to the stomach, everywhere. I tried to put my arms up in an attempt to protect my face. But one of them pinned my arms to the lockers, while the others continued to beat me. My glasses shattered when one punched my nose, leaving shards of glass in my eyes.

I cried out in pain and crumpled to the ground. I couldn't see anything that was going on, and the pain I felt from the blows that they were now delivering by foot felt like nothing compared to the pain piercing my dysfunctional eyes.

My breathing hitched when I felt a cool piece of metal touch my skin. It was an object I was all too familiar with, one that I had seen Gerard use too many times when he had gone through something similar. A razor.

"I say we make one for each dick he's sucked." One of them said, and the rest laughed.

"You wouldn't have enough room." That voice stood out from the rest. It wasn't deep, husky, or masculine like the rest. No, it was a sweet, feminine voice. Kris.

Suddenly, I could no longer feel the blood trickling down my wrists or my face. I could no longer feel the piercing and burning in my eye sockets, they were just a dull, background pain. The kicks and punches thrown felt like nothing more than blows in pillow fights. None of the pain could compare to that in my chest.

The girl that I had trusted. She was trying to break down my walls, I could tell that. And I helped her by opening up to her because I thought I could trust her. I thought she was different. But no, she was just like the rest. She wanted to know my secrets so she could whisper it to her friends, so the whole school would know. So that everything I escaped in Belleville could come back to bite me in the ass.

"Mikey." I could hear her sweet, now sick voice taunt. "Mikey."

Her voice grew louder and louder, and I fought to open my eyes. This was some kind of dream. It had to be. She would never do something like this. Unless this was a flashback-

"Mikey!" She screamed, and the pain finally faded to nothing, and I felt myself bolt upright. No, it wasn't a dream, because I couldn't see anything. The darkness around me was still there, I was blind, even though I could feel my eyes open. They darted around, as my breathing was still heavy and my heart was still pounding out of my chest, aching. I let out a sigh when I glanced at the alarm clock illuminating the corner of the room, reading 1:29 AM.