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The Watch by missmollyetc (Mature)
Fandom: BANDOM
Pairing: Gerard/Ray, Bob/Gerard/Ray, Frank/Mikey, past Bert/Gerard
Length: 19,790 words
Author on LJ & DW:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
missmollyetc & ![[personal profile]](https://dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
missmollyetc
Author on AO3:![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/232260-5270834/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
missmollyetc
Why this must be read: The one where Gerard is Handsome Don's oldest son, the one supposed to take over the business when his father dies, but Gerard's got other ideas.
This starts out as an outline of a story, but rapidly swells into something much more. The atmosphere and characterisations are absolutely wonderful and it's shockful of tension and suspense and action.
I can't believe that this story hasn't been recced here before. It was one of the earliest stories I read when I fell into MCR fandom and I've always considered it a minor classic.
I'm usually allergic to stories where the Used are the Bad Guys but here I don't mind it at all. In this story there are no black or white, just many shades of grey. The only real difference between Gerard and Bert is that one of them had a Mikey and the other didn't...
Excerpt from the story:
It's muscle memory, automatic to curl his palm around the butt of the pistol and lay his finger along the trigger guard. The pistol is heavy and cold in Frankie's hand. He swallows, shifts in his seat, glancing from Gee to Bob to Ray and then fixates on Matt's snoring on the table.
He's a big guy, Matt, muscles turning to fat as he drinks his way through Bob's stock, but he's... he's a sleazy bastard who sold out his whole crew to pay off his gambling. Who had no problem visiting hookers even while Gee was trying to get them off the streets and into programs. He's the only man here who knows everything Frankie did.
The churning in Frankie's stomach starts to burn, shooting flares up into his throat. He takes a deep breath and holds the gun in his lap.
If he kills Matt, he'll prove himself to Gee, he'll be the go-to guy. That's how it works in every gang Frankie's ever been in, shoot a guy and make your bones with the man in charge. It's... okay, so he thought he'd found something different (which is funny, because he wasn't looking in the first place. The world was hard and cold and it didn't give a shit for a kid who'd lost his dad in a barfight and never found anything to replace him but the mob). So, maybe, he'd been buying in to what Gee was selling, but it was stupid to think Gee wasn't Handsome Don's boy where other people couldn't see. Stupid.
Frankie gets out of the booth, and Ray moves silently out of his way. The sun's shining through the window, warm on Frankie's cold, dead-fish hands as he stands in front of the booth. Matt snorts in his sleep.
If he kills Matt, it won't be the first time he's committed murder - won't even be the seventh or the twelfth. He's killed a lot of people for a lot less of a reason. He can kill Matt (right in front of the window where people can see) and no one will bat an eyelash because that's the price of doing business sometimes. If he kills Matt, right here in Koslowski's bar, he can go back to Mikey and take him home to bed and pull the covers over both their heads.
Frankie steps forward, feeling his head disconnect from his body. His feet keep walking forward, his hand raises the gun, but in his head all he sees is Mikey kissing his cheek, Mikey listening to music with his feet in Frankie's lap, Mikey crying on the table with blood on his face. Mikey saying good bye that morning. If he kills Matt, he can go back to Mikey.
He puts the gun up to the back of Matt's head, barrel flush against Matt's lank, brown hair. His hand starts to shake. He hears cloth rustling behind him, but it's not louder than the beating of his own heart, hammering in his chest. Something raw and barbed claws its way up his throat, he tries to swallow and can't suddenly - oh God, no, come on - Frankie can't stop shaking, can't stop talking,
"I just want Mikey, okay?" he whispers. "I just - I can do this, and I can - then I can go back to Mikey, right? Please, I just want to go back to Mikey, I promise, I don't - I won't, I just want Mikey, I just want to be there when he wakes up."
He feels someone step up behind him and closes his eyes. He's gonna die, he's gonna - they know and then a hand is taking the pistol from Frankie's grasp and that same someone is turning him around. Frankie opens his eyes. He's gonna die staring them all down, he's -
Gee's standing in front of him, holding the gun. He bends down and kisses Frankie's forehead.
"That's the right answer," he says.
The Watch (on AO3) or here (on LJ)
Pairing: Gerard/Ray, Bob/Gerard/Ray, Frank/Mikey, past Bert/Gerard
Length: 19,790 words
Author on LJ & DW:
missmollyetc & missmollyetcAuthor on AO3:
Why this must be read: The one where Gerard is Handsome Don's oldest son, the one supposed to take over the business when his father dies, but Gerard's got other ideas.
This starts out as an outline of a story, but rapidly swells into something much more. The atmosphere and characterisations are absolutely wonderful and it's shockful of tension and suspense and action.
I can't believe that this story hasn't been recced here before. It was one of the earliest stories I read when I fell into MCR fandom and I've always considered it a minor classic.
I'm usually allergic to stories where the Used are the Bad Guys but here I don't mind it at all. In this story there are no black or white, just many shades of grey. The only real difference between Gerard and Bert is that one of them had a Mikey and the other didn't...
Excerpt from the story:
It's muscle memory, automatic to curl his palm around the butt of the pistol and lay his finger along the trigger guard. The pistol is heavy and cold in Frankie's hand. He swallows, shifts in his seat, glancing from Gee to Bob to Ray and then fixates on Matt's snoring on the table.
He's a big guy, Matt, muscles turning to fat as he drinks his way through Bob's stock, but he's... he's a sleazy bastard who sold out his whole crew to pay off his gambling. Who had no problem visiting hookers even while Gee was trying to get them off the streets and into programs. He's the only man here who knows everything Frankie did.
The churning in Frankie's stomach starts to burn, shooting flares up into his throat. He takes a deep breath and holds the gun in his lap.
If he kills Matt, he'll prove himself to Gee, he'll be the go-to guy. That's how it works in every gang Frankie's ever been in, shoot a guy and make your bones with the man in charge. It's... okay, so he thought he'd found something different (which is funny, because he wasn't looking in the first place. The world was hard and cold and it didn't give a shit for a kid who'd lost his dad in a barfight and never found anything to replace him but the mob). So, maybe, he'd been buying in to what Gee was selling, but it was stupid to think Gee wasn't Handsome Don's boy where other people couldn't see. Stupid.
Frankie gets out of the booth, and Ray moves silently out of his way. The sun's shining through the window, warm on Frankie's cold, dead-fish hands as he stands in front of the booth. Matt snorts in his sleep.
If he kills Matt, it won't be the first time he's committed murder - won't even be the seventh or the twelfth. He's killed a lot of people for a lot less of a reason. He can kill Matt (right in front of the window where people can see) and no one will bat an eyelash because that's the price of doing business sometimes. If he kills Matt, right here in Koslowski's bar, he can go back to Mikey and take him home to bed and pull the covers over both their heads.
Frankie steps forward, feeling his head disconnect from his body. His feet keep walking forward, his hand raises the gun, but in his head all he sees is Mikey kissing his cheek, Mikey listening to music with his feet in Frankie's lap, Mikey crying on the table with blood on his face. Mikey saying good bye that morning. If he kills Matt, he can go back to Mikey.
He puts the gun up to the back of Matt's head, barrel flush against Matt's lank, brown hair. His hand starts to shake. He hears cloth rustling behind him, but it's not louder than the beating of his own heart, hammering in his chest. Something raw and barbed claws its way up his throat, he tries to swallow and can't suddenly - oh God, no, come on - Frankie can't stop shaking, can't stop talking,
"I just want Mikey, okay?" he whispers. "I just - I can do this, and I can - then I can go back to Mikey, right? Please, I just want to go back to Mikey, I promise, I don't - I won't, I just want Mikey, I just want to be there when he wakes up."
He feels someone step up behind him and closes his eyes. He's gonna die, he's gonna - they know and then a hand is taking the pistol from Frankie's grasp and that same someone is turning him around. Frankie opens his eyes. He's gonna die staring them all down, he's -
Gee's standing in front of him, holding the gun. He bends down and kisses Frankie's forehead.
"That's the right answer," he says.
The Watch (on AO3) or here (on LJ)