Two for Tragedy

Disclaimer: I do not own these people or this song (Nightwish).

Additional disclaimer: As I stated previously, lessthanthree's "Raising Mikey" inspired me. Here's what she said: "I don't think it's a rip-off of my story since the only things they have in common so far are that Gerard is Mikey's guardian, and that Mikey got raped."

Therefore, I get in no trouble. ::does the happy dance::

Extreme religious overtones in this chapter.

All Mikey's POV of past stuff. Nothing knew really except his perspective and things Gerard couldn't tell us.

Two for Tragedy
Part Three: Was it rape if it was a punishment from God?

"No healing hand
For your disease
Drinking scorn like water
Cascading with my tears"

Mikey's Point of View

"Aren't you the pretty one?" he said to me after school. I was looking for Greg. We'd had a fight and I think we'd just broken up, but I wasn't sure. I turned to see if whoever spoke was talking to me and there he was: Matt Winters.

Matt Winters wasn't extremely popular. Everyone knew who he was because he was gorgeous, but no one really knew anything about him except that he drove a Harley and always wore a beat up leather jacket and he wasn't rich but he wasn't poor.

He is gorgeous. He has blue eyes and blonde hair and he smiled at me, coming a bit closer. He was two inches taller than me, I'd guess. "You are pretty." he said, laughing.

I looked around for a second, but we were the only two in the hallway. "A-Are you talking to me?"

"Of course I am." he said. He reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him. We walked through the darkened gym and he pulled me down to the locker room, which was empty.

Then his smile disappeared as he threw me onto the tiled floor and locked the door. I scrambled back up, but he hit me. Hard, on the cheekbone. I gave a sound halfway between a scream and halfway between a whimper. "Shut up." he said. "Shut the fuck up or I'm going to use this," he pulled a pocket knife from his pocket, "to fuck the hell out of you, understand?"

My jaw shook and tears started to fall down my face, but I nodded. He grabbed the back of my neck and spun me, throwing me against a row of lockers. My lip split open when I accidentally bit down on it and I could taste the blood.

"You're a sodomite." he said in my ear as his hands started to undo my jeans. I let out a dry sob. "You're going to burn in hell for your sins, you fucking fag. God hates people like you. How dare you wear that necklace?"

His hands clawed at the metal necklace Gerard got me for Christmas, the silver cross. "You disgrace everything."

He had taken my pants and boxers off by now and his own were off. He had his hands on mine, pressing them flat against the lockers. I tried so hard not to scream as I felt him pressing against me and it took every ounce of strength I had. I could feel myself bleeding and black dots swam in front of my eyes.

Then he pushed me onto my stomach on the floor. My breathing was so jagged. I knew I was having an attack. I reached for th epocket of my jeans as he was thrusting into me, sobbing and search for my inhaler.

I think he nearly had a cow when I managed to pull it from my discarded clothing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I took two puffs before he knocked it out of my hand and across the room. "You son of a bitch. Don't you know that was God saying you should die?"

"N-No."

He pulled out of me and flips me over, backhanding me he thrusted into me again, wrapping my legs around his waist. "God hates fags, you fucking sodomite. He wants you to die. He wants you to know that you are living in sin."

"B-But raping's against the Bible." I managed to choke out.

"I'm doing God's work." Matt snapped back. "God wants to purge the world of sin and I'm helping him. You're the one who wants everything to go to hell, you faggot."

He left me there after that. I was bleeding and could hardly move. My hand fished around for my glasses and I slipped them on, looking for the clock. 4:10. Frankie would be looking for me. I stood up slowly, crying out and then biting my lip. I didn't want him to see me like this. I'd just walk.

I locked the door and tried to walk toward the showers, but I fell. My knees hurt when they hit the floor, but more like a pin prick that anything. My pain tolerance was going to be very high from now on.

I couldn't shower. I couldn't stand up to turn the water on and even if I had, I'd forgotten the pipes were turned off. That's part of why there wasn't practice today. It probably took me fifteen hours to get dressed. I don't know. I threw something at the clock and it broke. I didn't like it ticking at me.

It was hard to walk, but soon I just felt numb. I pulled my coat tighter around me and everyone person I saw, I stared at. Did they know? Could they tell I was damned? Could they tell they were walking next to a fag who just got raped?

Was it rape if it was a punishment from God?

*

"Don't touch me." I pulled away from Gerard and moved toward the bathroom. I needed a shower. I needed to get this feeling off of me. But I could hardly walk and he shoved his foot in the door when I went to shut it.

So I just leaned against the sink, breathing hard and trying not to cry. Please God. Just don't let him know, okay?

"Mikey, what happened?"

I looked up to swear at him, but I felt . . . I leaned my head over the sink and vomitted. I kind of hoped all the bad feelings would come up with my lunch, but that was wishful thinking. I turned the sink on and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

"Get out." I didn't want him in there. I didn't want him to know. I didn't want him to get upset when he found out I was going to hell. But Gerard doesn't even believe in hell. And even though it's selfish, a part of me is happy. I mean, at least we'll be damned together.

"Mikey--"

"Get the fuck out!"

"I-I can't." Oh, he sounds so sad. Now, I was pissed. He shouldn't be feeling sad for me. He should be angry. He sould be slapping me and yelling and calling me a faggot and throwing me out of the house. "I can't until you tell me what's wrong."

Oh God, Gerard. Could you sound anymore like a Lifetime movie? "What the fuck do you think is wrong?" I don't like him. I feel like I hate him. I want to hit him and make that stupid look come off his face. The look that says 'I'm your brother and I love you'. And I know exactly what'll break that look on his face. So I tell him the truth.

"The wrong guy at school found out I was a fag and decided to take me down to the locker room after class and fuck me! Is that what you wanted to hear?!" I knew it wasn't. But it's what I wanted him to hear.

I fumbled in my pocket for my inhaler and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand again before I used it.

Gerard was trying not to cry. He was taking deep breaths and his eyes were dark. "Mikey, we have to go to the hospital."

What the fuck was he trying to pull? God wanted me to get raped. Who the hell am I to argue with God? We can't go to the hospital.

We argued for a few minutes about going to the hospital. I thought I'd won until he said something else. "Mikey, you didn't do anything wrong."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" How dare he? How dare he even think for one second he knows what I do and do not deserve. I deserved this. I deserved my pain. I deserved to be taken into that locker room.

He said it again, that I didn't do anything wrong. I gave some response. I don't remember what. And he said something else, but I don't remember what. I do remember that he slipped his hand under my chin and made me look at him.

"Mikey, it's not your fault. You didn't do anything to deserve this. Whoever did this is to blame, not you. You understand?"

And suddenly . . . I do understand. A little bit more at least. Matt as the one who raped me. He's the one who got hard from it and the one who got some sort of sick sadistic pleasure from the whole thing. I didn't really have any say in it at all.

Is that what Gerard was meaning?

I threw my arms around his neck and started crying. God, it felt so good to get those tears out, like they were little droplets of pain being released from my body. And I hurt so bad, inside and out.

But I know that I did wrong. I know I sinned. But I loved it when Gerard's arms came up and rubbed my back. I loved feeling so sfafe. But I couldn't let Gerard hug me if I were a liar.

"But . . . I did. I mean, I haven't exactly been quiet about it since it got out and he said that I needed to keep my fucking mouth shut and that God hated me and I was going to hell and that this was my punishment for being a sodomite and I hadn't even had sex yet!"

And he was perfect. He had a reason for everything. He even talked about God to me. Maybe . . . it doesn't matter.

*

I slept in Gerard's bed that night, jumping at every noise our house made and falling into his warm chest when his arms finally circles around me. I felt so safe knowing that nothing could hurt me as long as Gerard was around.

It was just when Gerard was gone.

And that was often enough.

---

Heh. Ideas? I want to start the trial, but should I do when Mikey goes back to school, first?