Chapter Text
Gerard didn't remember how long they'd been driving for. He tried to keep his eyes on the road and anything on it but his mind inevitably drifted. How could it not? With everything going on this past few days, he felt he deserved some reprieve within his daydreams. Funnily enough, he found himself missing the monotony of work on his cartoons - something about the simplicity of that old life he used to hate felt strangely comforting to him now. However, now Gerard's mind snapped to attention as his eyes drifted over a street name vaguely familiar to him.
"Mikey, stop the car," he felt himself saying before he even processed why he thought it necessary. "Reverse a little, and head up that street we just passed."
"Why? Thought you wanted to check out that Walmart in town, check for supplies?" Mikey stared at Gerard, a flash of concern and curiosity across his eyes. Gerard sighed, saying "You remember Ray right? The guitarist?"
"How could I forget? Dude could shred to holy hell! Why'd you ask, does he live round here?!" Mikey's expression perked up, and Gerard felt his heart lighten a bit at hearing the smile in Mikey's tone. He hadn't seen him smiling much these days. Not that he'd seen him much before the outbreak, or whatever this even was. What with his work having been so far away, Gerard had drifted from his brother, despite not wanting to lose their close bond. He sighed to himself.
"Yeah, the last house on the left. C'mon, we gotta at least see if he's still holed up in there. It'd be nice to see a familiar face, huh?" Or at least one that wasn't disfigured with rot and mould, as they'd had to bear witness to before. Gerard shuddered at the thought of local people he'd recognised shuffling down the town's streets, vacant eyes and slack jaws. Shaking his head wearily, he tried to focus on the matter at hand. Mikey excitedly threw the car into reverse, taking a sharp turn onto the avenue. Buzzing with excitement, he sped to the end of the road and pulled onto the last house's drive.
Getting out, Gerard took a deep breath and picked up his baseball bat, before reaching into the glovebox and shoving his pistol into the back of his jeans. Mikey grabbed his cricket bat, slinging it over his shoulder and nodding to his brother. Gently closing the car doors, the two men slunk up the driveway, cautious to not alert anyone - or anything - to their presence.
Mikey approached the door, before turning the knob. Clunk. Nothing. He turned to his brother, speaking in a low voice, "How do we get in? We can't bust the door, that'd be way too loud!" Gerard pondered, eyes sparking after a moment.
"There's a back door! Ray never locked it, said it was impossible to get over his garden fences." Gerard explained. Slinking round the corner of the house, Mikey turned around, speaking exasperatedly, "Well yeah dude, these fences are like 9 feet tall! How are we gonna get around? Unless..." He watched a smile creep onto his brother's features as he realised what was about to happen.
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"I can't believe we're doing this. This is reckless, and dangerous, and stupid!" Despite all his protests, Mikey still found himself stood on Gerard's shoulders, his brother's vice grip on his shins as he clung to the top of the fence. Throwing one leg up, he threw himself over the fence, until all Gerard could see was a few fingertips peeking over the edge. Then, an unceremonious crash as Mikey clattered to the ground on the other side.
"I'm okay!" He heard Mikey whisper-shout, before he said, "Okay, I'm gonna go in and open the front door for you! Stay against the wall and don't attract any unwanted attention."
"Be careful in there," Gerard replied, "We don't know who or what could be in there, okay?" He heard his brother hum in approval before footsteps receded from the fence. Taking a shaky breath, Gerard wandered back to the front door, keeping his eyes trained on the street in front of him. Being away from Mikey like this always made him anxious. He knew it'd only be in there for a moment and that this was their only option, but nevertheless he found part of himself regretting sending Mikey in alone. Pressing his back against the door, he allowed himself a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. That's when he heard it. The scream.
Gerard turned on his heels, eyes wide and more alert than ever. "Mikey?! Was that you?!! What's going on!!" He sprinted to the living room window, squinting through the grime to try and see what was happening. To his horror, he saw his brother, pinned down by a short man, messy hair stuck to his forehead. Gerard started banging on the window, uncaring about what else might notice the calamity he was making. In this moment, all he cared about was Mikey.
The banging caught the short man's attention, and as he turned his head to lock eyes with Gerard, Mikey took the opportunity to start writhing in his grasp and shimmy has arm free from the man's grasp. As Gerard looked on in horror, he noticed another figure moving in the shadow, seemingly unnoticed by the two fighting on the floor. He started banging louder, willing his brother to turn around before whatever it was got to him.
Mikey felt a weight lifted off his chest as the weasel-like man straddling him was suddenly suspended in the air by none other than Ray Toro. The smaller man still clawing out at Mikey, started sputtering nonsense at Ray before he was cut off, "Mikey, what're you doing here?! Where's Gerard?!" Mikey, still catching his breath, pointed at the window where his brother was watching, open-mouthed.
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"So, how come you guys were in the area anyway? I thought you'd moved away?" Ray asked Gerard, nursing a cup of tea and smiling at the two brothers. Gerard, keeping his eyes trained on the other strange man, whose name he now came to know as Frank, responded wearily.
"It wasn't really the right career path for me. I'd only been home about a day or two when... whatever this is, happened. Me and Mikey had been out shopping, and when we got back home, there was no one there. So, we started driving. Hunting, scavenging, looking for whatever we needed to keep us going." He shuffled closer to Mikey, picking up his own cup off the coffee table and taking a slow sip.
Ray smiled gently at them again, sensing Gerard's apprehension to Frank. "I'd been home, practising with Frank. He's in this band, Pencey Prep? All his bandmates cancelled practise to go to somewhere else, so I'd offered to practise with him. We decided to take a break, turn on the TV, and there it was. The goddamn apocalypse." He chuckled to himself, staring into his cup of tea. "He's not a bad guy, honestly. A little temperamental, sure. But to him, Mikey could have been a burglar or a murderer, or one of them..." He trailed off, turning around to smile at Frank in his corner of the living room.
Gerard sighed, knowing he was being unreasonable. Yet, as he turned to his little brother and caught sight of the bruises on his neck, he felt rage bubbling up inside himself again. Mikey had fallen asleep on the sofa, curled up next to him. Gerard slowly stood up, as not to disturb Mikey's slumber, and approached Frank.
"Hey, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I know you were just trying to protect yourself and Ray. I didn't mean anything by it." Gerard smiled cautiously. Frank kept his eyes trained on the window for a moment, and Gerard noticed the intricate scorpion tattoo curling across his neck.
"It's alright man, no hard feelings." He turned to meet Gerard's eyes, sticking one hand out in front of himself. "Frank."
Gerard took his hand, shaking it. Feeling the warmth of his palm. "I'm Gerard."