Petekey Oneshots

My watch read 8am when I left the house.
It was 8:32 when I reached the footpath sloping uphill towards the cemetery. I pulled my hood down as the March sun began to peak through the patchy clouds. The path came to a stop up ahead just in front of an iron gate. I pulled it open with a creak that made me wince and stepped quietly inside. Not many people ever come up here. At least not at the same time as me. I come here at the same time, same date every month without fail. I have done for the past three years.

I crossed the rows of headstones without even thinking until I came to one I was familiar with. It was well kept, mostly due to me. A shiny, dark slab engraved with a date of birth and death stood before me.
I knelt down and took a deep breath.
"Hey Grandma." I looked around to make sure I was the only one in the graveyard. As I'd expected, I was alone. I'd always felt a little uncomfortable talking to a grave. I must look a little crazy from the outside but I didn't really mind. She was the only one who ever really gave a shit about me so the least I could do was pay my respects now and then.
"Oh man this never really gets any easier. I still miss you, you know? And I doubt that you can even hear me but whatever, you always told me to have faith.
I'm not doing so great right now. You always used to ask how I was holding up and well, that's the truth. I've been talking to Patrick about it but I don't want to worry him. I'll be alright eventually. No more upcoming funerals for our family, certainly not from me. I promise. Or at least I'll try.
I'm writing an album. Again. You used to say you liked my music, you never gave up on me. I didn't really ever thank you for that enough." I ran a hand through my hair.

The gate creaked and I jumped.
I glanced over and saw a lanky boy, younger than me in a black t-shirt and jeans, making his way across the grass. He had overgrown brown hair with bangs that fell in his eyes. He wore eyeliner. Less than me but enough for me to notice.
He sensed me staring and flicked his gaze up and nodded at me politely.
He was here nearly always at the same time as me. I'd never actually spoken to him but there was always some kind of mutual exchange of a glance or nod or even a slight wave.

I returned to staring the ground in front of me. I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply before whispering a short prayer she'd taught me when I was a child.
I wasn't entirely sure if I believed in a higher power of any sort but it always meant a lot to her.

I stood up and brushed the knees of my jeans off.

"I'll bring you some fresh flowers next time. Bye Grandma." With a final glance at the headstone I took off again closing the gate behind me, only looking back once to check if the other boy was still there.
He was. Bent over another grave, talking just as I was. He'd started coming about a year ago. He always seemed to have this look about him, void of all emotion. It wasn't easy visiting a dead relative so he seemed to be holding up pretty well.
I wondered who he was visiting. I imagined it must be a grandparent. Perhaps he was in a similar situation. I pondered this all the way back to my house.

-

The air was damp and hung heavy with the residue of April showers. I could feel sticky mud under my feet as I trod the path up to the gate. I was carrying a large bunch of flowers in my arms just as I'd promised last time.
I walked silently across the wet grass and bent down, not quite touching the soggy ground.
I gently removed the dead flowers from the grave and tossed them into a bush.

"Hey Grandma. I got some more flowers.
I'm doing a little better right now. I'm taking my meds again, Patrick's making sure of that. You used to have a go at me for not taking them too. I guess that's why you took such a liking to 'Trick. He does act like a bit of an old person sometimes. Not that there's anything wrong with that. You said I'd be alright one day and maybe I will. I never believed it at the time but maybe you were right. I miss you."

I mumbled a different prayer this time and stood up. I grabbed the new flowers from where I left them resting on the ground. As I began separating the flowers I heard a noise and spun round.
I'd thought I was alone.
It took me a second to locate the sound.
Over the other side of the cemetery, on his knees by the same grave as always, was the boy.
Except he was crying.
Really crying, bent over sobbing his heart out.
I was stunned for a moment or two for he always spoke so quietly when he was here that I'd never even heard him talk.
I looked between the flowers and the tearful boy.
Carefully, I split the flowers into two bunches and placed one half gently on the grave at my feet.
Then I walked, as quietly as possible across and crouched down beside the boy.

"Hey." I said softly. "Are you alright?"
He made a choked noise and ignored me.
He was shaking with emotion so I placed the flowers on the ground and gingerly wrapped my arms around his shaking figure.
To my surprise he didn't push me away or jump, he leant into me and cried harder, letting out heartbreaking, guttural sobs into my shoulder. I held him closer.
It took about ten minutes before the sobs died down into sniffles and hiccups. The whole time I stayed holding him and rubbing his back in circles.
"Ssss-sorry" He mumbled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and spreading diluted eyeliner everywhere. "Shit." He muttered at the black makeupy mess on his sleeve.

"Don't worry about it. What's wrong? It's none of my business but you seem quite upset, if you want to talk about it I'll listen."

He took a few shaky breaths then gestured to the headstone.

"Gerard Way." The name read. Underneath was a date of birth and death. My eyes widened in shock. He was only 23 when he died.

"Oh my. He was young."

The boy nodded solemnly.

"He was my brother." His voice cracked over the word 'brother'.

I felt my heart wrench in my chest.

I opened my mouth to speak but he carried on.

"He would have been 24 today. It's his birthday."

"Oh man. I'm sorry." I squeezed his hand sympathetically. He looked at me and offered me the saddest smile I've ever seen. It made my stomach turn and my chest pang with empathy.

"He was great, you know. Amazing artist, honestly some of the things he drew. Animations, comic book characters, celebrities, everything really. He was a great writer too and he could sing.
He wrote some brilliant songs, he was working on a whole album, it was beautiful, really it was. We were going to be in a band." He gushed.

His face fell again suddenly.

"Then he killed himself."

Tears started leaking from his eyes again.

"He was always a bit depressed, a bit manic but I never thought he would actually. I went out but I should've stayed home I should've kept an eye on him. He hugged me so tight before I left, told me he loved me and he was so proud of me. I should have realised then.
I went to work an evening shift at the store because I wanted some extra money for tickets for a band we both wanted to see. I was going to surprise him with them."

He was shaking again.

"But then I came back and..."

I hugged him tight again.

"His medication was locked up I still don't know how he got it. I could have kept it somewhere safer. I could have stayed home. I should have noticed he wasn't alright. I could have done something."

I didn't even know him but it pained me to see him so torn up over something like this. Normally he looked quite beautiful. All sharp cheekbones and pale skin. But now his face was pink from crying and his eyes were swollen and full of all the sorrow in the world. He looked broken.

"Look at me. Hey. Listen. There is nothing you could have done. Trust me with this okay I-...I...I have a friend who seems to have a similar mindset to your brother and he would pretend he's doing just fine till the end of the world. You couldn't have done anything more to help him and I can assure you, you've got nothing to blame yourself for, okay?"

He blinked at me then nodded uncertainly.

I gently wiped under his eyes with my sleeves.

"Do you want these? For him?" I offered him the flowers I'd brought over.

"You sure?" He asked.

I nodded firmly.

"Thank you." He took them off me and lay them carefully against the headstone. "Happy Birthday, big brother. I miss you a hell of a lot, everything's so quiet without you. And lonely. I hope you're somewhere better now, wherever you are."

He stood up straight, sniffed hard and put his hands in his pockets.

"Thanks for um....for being a nice person." He glanced at me shyly.

"No problem." We both stood and stared at the flowers in silence for a few minutes. He look as though he was on the verge of breaking down again so I put my arm across him and he rested his head against me.
After a few more minutes he turned to me and nodded.

"You going anywhere?" I asked

"No, not really. I don't really do all that much recently."

"I was going to go get a coffee, wanna come with? I'll buy you a drink." I offered.

He hesitated for a moment then met my eyes.

"Yeah that'd be nice. I'm Mikey by the Way. No pun intended there....I'm Mikey Way."

I rolled my eyes at his weak joke.

"Pete Wentz. You good?" I asked as we started walking. He was still a little shaky.

"Can I...? Sorry." He blushed linking my arm for support.
I couldn't help but smile a little as we made our way back down the path.
He noticed.
"Your gay ass isn't meant to be enjoying this."

"What gives you that impression?" I asked, feigning offence.

"Takes one to know one. And stop smiling we just came out of a cemetery."

"No." I said stubbornly

"And why not?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Because you're pretty. Even when you've been crying so theoretically you shouldn't be but you are. And I'm going to appreciate that."

He rolled his eyes but I saw a flicker of amusement in them.

"Pete?" He'd stopped shaking now but his arm remained locked with mine.

"Yes?"

"Shut up before I change my mind about the coffee." He smirked.

---------------------------------
I might write a parent!petekey one next if anyone's interested. They would make awful parents but at least Pete wouldn't be allowed to name them things like 'Bronx' or 'Saint'.
Quick question: which era of Mikey and Pete do you guys prefer?
My personal favs are bullets Mikey and that weird phase where Pete had red bangs and everyone seems to hate it? (I really liked it)
Anyway I hope you're having a great day and thanks for the comments, votes and reads (*^-^*)
Until the next chapter,
~ Lauren xoxo