Mikey Way and the Quest for the Stone (Part Three): gift for <user site="livejournal.com" user="luci

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"Mikey."

Everything hurt and he couldn't feel his knees.

"Mikey.”

On second thought, his knees were aching and it was his head he couldn't feel. That was a whole lot more disturbing. Oh, unholy fuck. He'd been kidnapped.

Mikey rolled his head on his neck, but everything got really blurry and his stomach started to heave a little. He tried to move, but he couldn't move anything except his legs. He was tied to a chair.

"Mikey! Mikey, for fuck's sake. Stay with me dude."

He twitched his nose, son of a bitch, his glasses were gone. Okay, okay. He was tied to a chair, with no glasses, in the dark and someone was yelling his name. Mikey took a deep breath.

Frank, Frank was yelling his name.

A sharp jabbing in his shin brought him round a little more. "Fuck," he said jerking away.

"Oh my god, thank fucking fuck. Mikey, Mikey, I thought - Fuck, dude. You're alive" came Frank's voice, desperate and relieved.

Mikey squinted; yeah, it was Frank sitting opposite him alright.

"You know, I'm starting to think some of the things I've read about Colombia might be true," Mikey slurred. God, his head was pounding. Who gets kidnapped on a fucking hangover? It was like a crappy Bradley Cooper movie for fuck's sake.

"Mikey, it's gonna be okay," Frank hissed. "I - I'm gonna get us out of this."

"Frank?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Mikey, it's me," Frank said.

Mikey squinted, trying to make Frank come into focus a little more. He judged the distance between them, scootched down in the chair, and punted Frank's shin as hard as he possibly could.

Frank let out a string of expletives. "Ow! What the fucking fuck was that for?!" he cried.

Mikey deeply regretted the fact he couldn't see the pain on Frank's stupid, lying, hot sex tricking face.

"Does the dinner, dance, romance thing usually work for you, or did you trawl that one out especially for me?" Mikey said, and kicked at Frank again.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Frank hissed, and Mikey could see him trying to get out of the way of Mikey’s flying boots as much as possible.

Frank pulled his knees up and kicked back. "Stop fucking kicking me, dickface! What's the matter with you?"

Mikey kicked at him again. "What's the matter with me? What's the matter with you, hit and runner,." He could feel his face heating up, his eyes prickling. He felt so fucking humiliated and so fucking, fucking, boiling with rage. All the things he'd said, the things Frank had said. Mikey clenched his jaw, breathing hard though his nose.

"Oh Mikey, you're so hot, Mikey," he hissed, "I wanted to do this the minute I saw you Mikey. Tug my balls, Mikey."

Frank went silent. Mikey made a desultory kick at his knee and he didn't even move away.

"That's - you think I was…"

Mikey snorted.

"That's the kind of guy you think I am?" Frank said.

Mikey swallowed hard and looked away. "You played me. You said it yourself. You came here to hunt for treasure. You found it."

After a long moment Frank said, "I promise, Mikey." His voice was high and tight. "I promise you, that’s not true."

"Whatever," said Mikey, slumping against his bonds.

"I went out to fill up the jeep. I took your bag coz you had all the money. I was coming back."

Mikey struggled against the ropes again. Fuck it.

"I was fucking coming back, Mikey," Frank said desperately. “I fucking was.”

A voice from across the room jerked Mikey out of his slump and he heard Frank gasp too.

“Our profile,” the voice said, “suggests that Iero, Frank A. - Formerly of Trenton, New Jersey. Rutgers dropout, archaeology and anthropology double major. Former Junior Ranger and member of the Bear Grylls fan club - probably was going to come back for you, Mr. Way.”

“What the fuck?” Frank squeaked. “Who the fuck are you? Let us go. This is fucked.”

The lights flared and Mikey could almost, almost, see where they were. It looked, and now that he thought about it, it smelled like a bar. He still couldn’t see who was speaking to him.

"Oh boys," the voice, a woman's voice said, “Boys, you’ve made my job almost too easy.”

Blurry figures moved towards them, silhouetted by the white glow of open doors. Mikey felt like he knew that voice from somewhere. He just couldn’t place it.

One of the indistinct figures came close, and bent in front of him. It reached out for Mikey’s face and Mikey struggled to get away. But then, suddenly, he could see. A square-jawed guy, the one from the street with the three-piece suit and the dark glasses, was pushing Mikey's glasses up his nose.

Mikey looked away, his heart pounding. He’d watched enough episodes of the X Files to know a spook when he saw one.

A woman flicking through a thick file stood in the center of the bar. “All too easy, boys, seriously,” she said.

Holy fuck. It was the woman from the airport. The one who put Mikey on the Cartagena bus, only her hokey ‘exotic’ accent was gone, and she was wearing a suit too. She smiled at Mikey, and nodded to one of the G-men. He went and stood, a little alarmingly, right behind Frank his hands on Frank’s shoulders.

“Mr. Way, I tried to make this simple. I tried to help you help me find lost artifact of national significance number 34557, aka El Corazon. But no," the woman said, putting her hands on her hips and thinning her lips. "You had to go team up with Frodo Baggins here and try an' fuck me.”

Frank snorted. “Ew,” he said. The G-man slapped him hard and open palmed on the ear.

Mikey sucked in a breath. “What the fuck. Who are you?” Mikey said.
Frank seemed to swoon, but then he giggled and pulled himself up. The spook lifted his hand to do it again, but the woman made a tsking sound and he stopped.

“Don’t mess up that pretty little face,” she said. “Yet.”

Mikey took a deep breath. “I think there’s been some kind of, you know, misunderstanding,” he said, twitching his nose. “I write romance novels.”

The woman blinked. “Mr. Way, do you know who I am?” She asked, slinking out from behind her men and crouching down in front of Mikey, her full red lips inches from his.

“Um, Colombia Tourism rep?”

She flicked Mikey in the forehead.

“Fucking leave him alone you fucking psycho!” Frank yelled.

Mikey heard Frank getting worse than a slap. Way worse. He flinched and tugged at the bonds on his arms.

“My name is Victoria Asher, but they call me Vicky T.” She said raising her perfectly arched eyebrows as if it was something to be impressed by.

“Um…”

“The Cobra?” she said, incredulous, as if that should jog Mikey's memory.

“Ah...”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m CIA, you little dipshit,” she tsked again and stalked off to the bar and poured herself a drink. “Smuggling and antiquities. Langley got intel from our man in Cartagena that some guy called Way had stumbled on a lead to this, El Corazon, and was trying to smuggle the find out of Colombia and into the US. So they put me on it because I take care of this pig shit valley. And you know what, according to Way’s find, is in this pig shit valley?”

Frank said, “Pigs?” The sound of the goon’s fist connecting with Frank’s face was raw and wet this time. Mikey’s jaw clenched.

“El Corazon," Vicky T said, curling a lip at Frank. She turned back to Mikey. “Mr. Way, are you using your so called ‘celebrity’ as a cover to try and smuggle priceless antiquities out from under the noses of our dear neighbors and allies in the war on drugs?” She pointed at Mikey. “Because I think you are.”

Mikey blinked and looked at Frank. They thought Gerard was smuggling antiquities? They thought Mikey was Gerard? Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Mikey sighed. “I confess,” he said drolly. “Clearly you are the I in CIA.”

Frank giggled. “Ow, quit it you big dork,” he said when the G-man slapped him again. “Listen, lady,” Frank said. “Last I heard that El Gorgonzola thing shit was a fucking myth. Next thing you’ll be telling me Aztecs buried spaceships under the Torre Colpatria.”

Mikey looked at Frank who half winked back. His eye was swelling shut, his lip cut and bleeding. It made Mikey’s heart ache.

Vicky T turned to Frank. She smiled slowly. “Come on Frankie,” she said, slinking up to him. “You and I, we're in the same business. We find things,” she said, glancing over he shoulder at Mikey, “And we take care of them. Right?”

She put her stiletto-heeled foot up on the edge of Frank’s chair and batted her lashes. “You find El Corazon and sell it, maybe get yourself and Mikey here killed in the process? No one will ever know that Frank Iero, Rutgers archeology department failure, found El Corazon. Just,” she trailed a finger along Frank’s jaw. “Give me the map and I’ll make sure El Corazon gets the treatment it deserves. And, ah, so will you..”

She leaned forward and the hem of her skirt rode up a little, exposing more of her thigh.

Mikey cursed his heart for sinking as Frank’s eyes dropped down Vicky-T’s leg.

“Um,” Mikey said. “Miss? You have a run in your stockings. Do you have any clear nail polish? I can totally fix it.”

She threw a sneer over her shoulder at Mikey before turning a does eyed smile on Frank. She sighed. “Whaddaya say, Frankie?”

“Oh honey," Frank said, a wry smile playing across his lips. "You are so barking up the wrong gay tree."

His eyes flicked to Mikey and Mikey’s heart did a little flip.

Vicky T growled and pulled her leg back, stomping on the ground. "Listen, you little punk,” she snapped. “If you think you can walk on to my turf and steal antiquities , when I’ve spent the BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE, down here trying to protect them you've got another fucking thing coming!"

She pointed at one of her men. "Put them on a plane to Langley. We can sort this out back home."

Mikey's heart lurched. Fuck, he had to get out of there. If they sent him back, Gerard was a dead man. He looked at Frank, wild eyed.

Only Frank wasn’t sitting in the chair, he was standing behind Vicky T and pushing her at one of her Goons. "Victoria,” he cried, “your best years are ahead of you, didn't you know? And also, we are completely and absolutely getting to that fucking treasure before you!"

He looked at Mikey and waved a nail file - seriously - at him, and winked.

The spooks started closing in on Frank. But Vicky T got to him first.

"This isn’t the States, Iero. My rules down here. And my rules say, you and what army?" she hissed.

As if on cue, the doors to the drinking hole swung open, and standing back-lit by the midday sun was none other than Mikey's personal fan-army, Ray Toro.

"Holy shit, Victoria Asher! Long time no see," Ray chimed. “I see you've met my friends, Frank and Mikey. Mikey Way. You know, Mikey Way.” Ray pointed at Vicky T. “Mikey! This is the heart breaker I told you about! So stoked you got to meet her!"

Vicky let out a high-pitched groan of frustration. "Fucking fucking hell Toro!" she yelled.

And then all hell broke loose.

*

Mikey would never be comfortable saying it, but he was a lover, not a fighter.

He spent the majority of the brawl that ensued tied to a chair and trying to duck as Ray’s goons went head to head with Vicky T’s G-men.

At one point he saw Ray fighting a guy with a mother fucking sword and Bob using Frank as a kind of human battering ram, which was, well… it would have been hilarious, if it were a movie.

But it wasn’t a movie, this was an actual fact brawl in a bar and Mikey was tied to a goddamned chair in the middle of it.

A bottle of whiskey whizzed past his ear. "Fuck!" He shouted and then "Ray!" as someone came at Ray with a pool cue. Ray knocked the guy out with a bar stool and gave Mikey the thumbs up.

Over in one corner Frank seemed to have four guys on top of him and Mikey’s heart was in his mouth. But he threw them all off with a roundhouse punch and kicked one in the ear. Mikey tried really hard not to be impressed. Fucking Frank.

Mikey watched as Frank then nut punched G-man Number Two, ducked under Goon Number Three, and narrowly missed Vicky T’s stiletto to the neck. He raced to the double doors, grabbed his backpack off the bar where the G-men had been about to start searching it, and burst out to freedom.

He didn’t even look back.

Mikey stared after him, his heart in his mouth. Oh god. Frank had the map. The map was gone. Gerard.

Bob smashed his way towards Mikey, taking out three G-men with a cocktail shaker and an ice bucket. “You sure know how to throw a party, Mikey Way,” he said as he started untying him. Mikey stood up and immediately ducked a flying chair.

“How did you find us?” he asked, eyes darting around the room.

Bob grinned. “These numbnuts hotwired the mule and brought it here. Everyone in the valley knows whose jeep that is.” He shrugged.

“Won’t you guys, like, get disappeared or deported something? They’re CIA, man,” Mikey said. From the corner of his eye he saw Vicky T leap off the bar onto one of Ray’s guys and start punching him in the neck.

Bob shook his head. “Nah, this is like... a lovers tiff. They’re always getting together for these little shindigs.” Bob ducked as a G-man swung for him, before knocking him out with one punch. “Now that Ray’s out of the drugs biz, anyway. I like to think of it as flirting.”

They watched Vicky T launch herself onto Ray’s back next and start choking him. Ray’s grin was particularly large.

“See?” Bob said. “It’s kind of sweet. Speaking of which, where’s your little side kick?”

Mikey looked up at Bob. Bob frowned and squeezed his shoulder. “I’d stay and talk it out, but…” He gestured to the melee still going on around them.

Mikey nodded and Bob dove back into the fight.

Mikey figured he could avoid getting smacked over if he stuck to the edges of the fight and made for the door, but he hadn’t gotten far when a G-man tried to grab him in some kind of complicated choke hold. Mikey wriggled out of his grasp.

“Mikey!" Ray shouted, and Mikey looked up to see Ray – Vicky T still clinging to his neck - holding up his fists. He threw one fist out and it connected with an advancing G-Man. He nodded at Mikey.

Mikey looked at his fists and his own advancing G-man. Oh fuck it. His first swing went wide, but while the spook was laughing at him, Mikey hauled up and thumped him, right in the eye. “Ow!” Mikey yelled, and shook out his hand. G-man was not amused. So Mikey followed it up with a kung fu chop to the throat, a' la Fists of Fury, one of his and Gerard's favorite films when they were kids.

Much to Mikey’s surprise the guy went down like a ton of soggy bricks. Mikey just stared, horrified. He looked at his hands and back at the figure on the floor.

"Oh shit, dude. Sorry," he said, ducking down to see if the guy was all right.

"Don't help him, Mikey!" Ray shouted. He was holding Vicky T off with one hand as she swung for him. "Get out of here!"

Mikey Five Tooth Dragon Power punched and Drunken Warrior kicked his way across the room, aiming for the door. He did it mostly with his eyes shut, so he wasn't convinced he made a great deal of difference to the fight. But apparently a lifetime of watching Hong Kong Classics and Saturday Morning Cartoons had given him mad skillz. Gerard would be, like, so proud.

Oh, Gee. He couldn’t fall apart here though; he had to get out.

The roar of an engine crashed over the sound of the fighting and Mikey looked up a motor bike come flying into the bar.

Mikey blinked.

Silhouetted against the wide-open double doors was Frank sitting astride some kind of antique, World War II looking thing. He had a pair of goggles and he was grinning. It was a mother fucking bike and it had a side car.

“Your ride's here,” Bob shouted, popping up next to him and pushing a flailing G-man off with one hand.

Mikey jolted into action; ducking, diving and side stepping his way through the rest of the fight to the bike. To Frank.

Vicky T screamed in outrage from the far side of the bar. She was still clinging to Ray's back and trying to fight his hair. Ray looked like he was having the time of his life. He sketched Mikey a wave and flipped Vicky T over his shoulder. She landed on her feet. "True love never did run smooth, huh?" Ray shouted at Mikey and dodged a haymaker Vicky T was aiming at his head.

“Good Luck!” Mikey shouted back.

Grinning at Frank, Mikey pushed the bike backwards out the doors into the road and jumped in the side car. Frank gunned the engine and they zoomed off through the town and back onto the jungle road, the sounds of the fighting fading behind them.

*

The beam from Frank's flashlight bounced around the cavern, glinting off the wet rock. They could hear nothing but the drip, drip, drip of the water and the hollow echo of their boots over the gravel littering the bottom of the cave.

“So," Mikey said in a hush, "those spiders as big as your face."

Frank flinched. “What about ‘em?”

Mikey looked peered into the depths of the cavern. “They like dark places you think?”

Frank didn’t reply; he just kept walking.

After a couple of hours drive, they’d left the bike on the road and hacked into the bush again. Once they found the base of the rock Mikey has seen the day before, the map pointed them towards a set of caves, higher up on the foot hills of a mountain.

A couple of hours later they stood in front of a cave, deep in the jungle a mile or two past the stone fingers, looking at the map.

“So, where did say you got the bike?” Mikey had said, frowning down at Frank after staring up at the rocks for a second.

Frank had shrugged. “It was just there. Hotwired it.” His eyes were fixed on the map. Then he looked up squinting. Frank pointed into the jungle, pointed back down on the map and started counting out big steps in the direction of the cave.

“It says, La Boca de Dios,” he said, looking up at the entrance. “It’s exactly where the maps said it would be.”

Mikey nodded. “You’re sure about this?”

Frank glanced at him and back at the map. “We're here," he said shrugging again. “Um, on the map it's called La Boca de Dios. It means God’s lips or something.” He folded up the map and handed it back to Mikey giving Mikey a sheepish look.

“Thanks,” Mikey said. Mikey kicked at a bit of tree root and twitched his nose. He tucked the map into his back pocket.

“Mikey...”

Mikey really was a lover, not a fighter, and sure as fuck not a sulker. He’s leant forward and kissed Frank.

“I was always coming back for you,” Frank said, when the kiss ended and his eyes fluttered open.

“You did come back,” Mikey said.

Frank grinned.

“Okay," Mikey said, taking a deep breath. "Let’s find this fucking treasure.”

Frank pulled a torch out of his back pack and they had headed into the darkness together.

The map said they were looking for something called La Leche de Maria, or Mary's Milk. At least that's what Frank said. But so far everything they'd been able to make out in the cave was just dark grey and slimy looking. Mikey looked behind them. The mouth of the cave seemed very far away now.

Next to him Frank cast the beam of light slowly left and right. Mikey watched it spinning into the gloom.

“Wait,” Mikey grabbed his arm and nudged it back to the left. “What was that?”

The beam bounced around a little and then came to rest, glittering and sharp, on a wide pool of what looked like... milk. Frank swung the beam up to show a stalactite hanging from the roof of the cave, white with dripping lime.

"Mary's Milk," breathed Frank.

They both ran up to the edge of the pool and knelt down. “What, like, what happens now?” Mikey asked, pulling out the Map. Frank shone the flashlight on it.

He looked up at Mikey and bit his lip. After a second he stuffed the flashlight in Mikey's hands, leant forward and stuck his hands straight into the water.

He seemed to be fishing round in there for ages. Deeper and deeper he dug into the silt until Mikey thought he might fall in. Mikey was just about to pull him back when he seemed to hit the bottom.

Frank scrabbled around a little, then stopped and looked at Mikey, eyes wide. There was something there. Mikey watched him tugging it up from the bottom, hauling it out of the water.

It was wrapped in some kind of canvas, thick with the claggy silt of the pool. Frank tore at the wrapping eagerly, revealing - Frank held it up into the flashlight - a china doll.

He turned the doll over in his hands as if he were missing something. But there was nothing, just a cheap looking ornament, the kind you might find in one of those tacky tourist shops, or that you could win at a fair.

There was nothing priceless about it. There was nothing that old about it either.

We're too late, thought Mikey sitting back on his heels. Someone had beaten them to it and left this, this fucking chintzy toy in it’s place.

"Fuck," Frank said sitting back, too. "Well, so much for that." He chucked the doll up in the air a few times before throwing it over his shoulder.

Mikey winced as it smashed on the rocks behind them. Frank stood up and started pacing. “Look,” he said, “it's okay, man. No one knows we're here, except Vicky T, right? So, as far as the other bad guys know, the ones who have your brother? The map is still good.”

Mikey nodded. He hoped Frank was right.

Out of the corner of his eye Mikey saw Frank walk over to the crumpled shards of doll and kick at them. Frank stopped, hands on his hips, head lowered. He crouched down and started to pick through the broken shards.

Mikey thought of Gerard, still waiting for him in Cartagena, still believing Mikey was coming to save him. He stuck his arm in the claggy water and swooshed around. If Frank had missed anything, Mikey couldn't feel it. He pulled his arm out of the water and shook it off.

“Mikey," Frank said.

“It’s gotta be here, right?” Mikey muttered, spreading the map out and turning the flashlight beam on it. “There’s gotta be something else.” If there wasn’t, Gerard’s life depended on the other bad guys not knowing that already. Gerard.

“Mikey,” Frank said again.

Mikey looked up.

Frank's eyes were huge. He held something up. Something big and bright and gleaming and heart-shaped.

“Holy fuck,” Mikey breathed.

Frank nodded slowly. “Holy El Corazon.”

*

It was big, bigger than any gem Mikey had ever seen before, even in books. He held El Corazon in his cupped hands, staring at it as they thundered along the road north, towards the coast and Cartagena.

The rock was heart-shaped, a glittering dark blue-black stone shot through the middle with a gleaming spear of white. A broken heart.

"So Vicky T, and Nally," Frank hollered to him from the seat of the bike. "How did they even find out about the map?"

"Gerard never did know how to keep his mouth shut," Mikey yelled back, leaning from the sidecare towards Frank. The wind was whipping the words right out of his mouth. " 'S why I never give him any spoilers about the books . They just end up in the papers! "

“But, Nally doesn’t know we went after the rock, right?”

Mikey nodded. Frank grinned. "Couple hours and we're there, Mikey," Frank yelled above the engine. "Fuckin' home and dry."

Mikey looked up at Frank.

"Here," Frank said, he shrugged off his backpack, keeping one hand on the handlebars, and passed it to Mikey. “Safer in there,” he said.

Mikey tucked the gem inside the zippered inner pocket and passed the bag back up to Frank. He shrugged it back on his shoulders and gunned the engine.

Mikey glanced behind them. There was only one other car on the road, a mile or so back. He sat forward and watched the trees whip past. He wondered how far it was to Cartagena; how hard it would be to find the address Gerard had given him.

Mikey looked back again. The car was gaining on them pretty fast.

"Frank," he said.

Something glinted in the windscreen.

"Frank," Mikey said again, and reached up to tug his sleeve.

The cracking whoosh of bullets flying past made Mikey duck.

"FUCK!" Frank yelled, swerving the bike across the road as he jerked out of the way. "Who the fuck is shooting at us now?”

More bullets flew past their ears and Frank gunned the engine. Mikey hunkered down in the well of the sidecar and peered over the edge.

The car was only a couple of car-lengths away now, and Mikey could see a vicious looking figure leaning out the passenger window and taking aim at them.

Nally.

A bullet pinged against the body of the side car and Frank swerved again.

"FUCK!" Mikey yelled and scootched down further.

Nally's car barreled down on them, ploughing into the back of the bike. Frank struggled to keep control, weaving all over the road as Nally fired again and again.

"Hang on!" Frank shouted, and turned off the road. Mikey bounced around inside the sidecar as Frank swerved back again into the middle of the road.

Suddenly, Nally’s car was right there, battering into the sidecar, trying to force them into a ditch which opened out at the side of the track.

Nally leaned out the window and aimed the gun right in Mikey's face.

Mikey squeezed his eyes shut.

But rather than a bang he heard a shout as Frank swerved back up onto the edge of the ditch, putting a row of saplings and bushes between the bike and the car. Mikey saw Nally's gun go flying as the bushes swept past. Nally turned to his driver shouting and waving his hands.

The car came up on them again and this time Nally reached out and grabbed for Mikey’s head, his long fingers yanking Mikey's hair.

"No fucking way, asshole," Mikey hollered slapping and punching Nally's hand away.

Frank swerved, gunning across a stretch of treeless plain. Nally's car followed close behind.

Suddenly it was as if the sound of the bike engine had doubled, a kind of rolling thundering sound growing all around them.

"Oh, fuck," Mikey whimpered. Ahead, the plain seemed to fall away and all Mikey could see was as the river. And they were speeding towards it.

Frank gunned the engine again and aimed them for a rise in the riverbank.

The bike tore up the dirt 'ramp' and sailed into the air.

"Jump!" Frank yelled, and leapt off the back of the bike.

Mikey had just a second to grab his glasses and stuff them down his too tight pants before scrabbling over the edge of the side car and plunging into the rolling waters as the bike and sidecar crashed into the water next to him.

Squinting through the tepid murk, Mikey strained towards the surface and thrust his head out of the water, taking huge gasping breaths, only to be pummeled back under by the boiling rush.

He popped up again seconds later, shouting Frank's name.

He saw Frank's arm in the air, then a leg, then nothing but the bubbling hysteria of the rapids. Popping up again, Mikey caught a swift glimpse of Nally's car screeching up to the edge of the riverbank before speeding off again downstream.

Then Mikey went under again. After long moments rolling and turning and gasping, the current pushed him towards the bank where he clambered onto the rocks and dragged himself onto dry land.

After a few seconds Mikey leapt up and ran along the bank. "Frank!" Mikey cried, searching the rocks and fallen trees that littered the riverbank. Now Mikey was going to have to kill both Gerard and Frank. If they weren’t dead already.

"Mikey!"

On the other side of the wide, rushing river, bedraggled but upright and alive, was Frank.

Mikey let go of the breath he didn't even know he was holding in a rush.

"Mikey! You okay?!"

Mikey waved, and sat down heavily on a boulder, pulling out his glasses and then burying his face in his hands before putting them on.

Frank was running a little way up the river and back.

"No way across!" he yelled.

Mikey looked up, They stared at each other as the water raced between them.

Fuck.

He searched his pockets. He had 20 pesos. And in his back pocket… the soggy pulp that used to be the map.

Mikey shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun on the water. Frank still had his backpack which meant he had the stone.

"What do we do?!" Frank shouted with an exaggerated shrug. Mikey shrugged back and stood up, peering down the length of the river with his hands on his hips. "Go on to Cartagena," Frank yelled. “Follow the river. We're close now. Just, stick to the river. And… I'll meet you at the hotel. The Hotel de la Muerte, right?" He asked, and then turned toward the jungle.

Something hurt in Mikey’s chest. He lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Okay,” he said, a little quietly.

“Mikey. Hey, Mikeyway,” Frank called. He’d stepped into the rushing water as far as he could without being swallowed again by the rapids. Mikey pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. “I will find you. Don’t die, and I’ll find you. Okay?”

Mikey wiped his eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” he called, and huffed out a little panicked laugh. “Follow the river, don’t die, Hotel de la Muerte. Got it.”

Frank grinned, lifted up a hand and darted into the jungle behind him.

Mikey turned and looked at his own side of the jungle. The jungle looked back at him. There wasn't anything else he could do. Mikey Way set off.

*

Cartagena was what Mikey had expected when he first arrived in Colombia; candy-colored colonial stucco buildings with wrought iron and wooden verandas next to a bustling modern city. There were no huge bugs crawling from jungle leaves into his hair. There were no guns pointed at his head. And these buildings probably had kitchens, with food, and bathrooms, with toilets. It was a little like being home. Except it was so much prettier than downtown Manhattan. And everyone seemed to smile a lot.

It had taken him almost half a day to trek along the river all the way to the edge of the city. He must have looked a sight arriving on the suburban and then urban streets; torn, muddy, river-stained clothes, hair like a fright wig, knuckles still bleeding from the bar brawl, his glasses scratched and twisted slightly.

On the outskirts of the city, Mikey had hailed a cab, and another, and another, but no one seemed to want to stop for him. Finally. someone did, and he gave them the address Gee had given him: The Hotel De la Muerte, Via Espidair, Cartagena.

The driver knew the place, but when they arrived, he was reluctant to leave Mikey there. It wasn't a hotel at all; it was an abandoned building site down by the river docks.

Mikey eventually convinced the guy that it was okay, even though it clearly was not; where the hell was Frank, for example. But he pressed the pesos into the cab driver’s hand anyway and climbed out of the car. The car sped away and Mikey was all alone.

The feeling of dread and anticipation coursing through him as he looked up at the half-finished ribs of the building, iron girders and concrete slabs, with a crumbly old warehouse next to it, was pretty awful. But Gee was in there. Mikey could feel it.
If Gee’d had to stay for, like, days in this creepy wharf building, straight out of a gangster movie where people end up buried in cement, Mikey could be brave enough to bear it with him. For him. He was going to get Gee the fuck out of here if it killed him.

Mikey straightened his back and walked toward the dock.

Mikey scanned the empty street for signs of Frank. He shrugged.

He strtched and clenched his hands, looking down at them. They were cut up and kind of a mess, and there were marks around his wrists where Vicky T's guys had tied him to the chair. His knuckles were blue and yellow and a sickening green from punching people. His palms were calloused from clinging to vines, scrabbling over rocks and fighting his way through the jungle. He was battered, and bruised and parts of him he'd never even thought about before were sore. His chest ached a little, too. It was like he had a whole different body. But Mikey had never felt more like himself in his life. He clenched and unclenched his hands and took a deep breath. Yeah, he thought, I got this. Bring it the fuck on.

He took a deep breath and went into the hotel.


*

"And then, then, if you can believe this, he drove the bike straight into the river. Bam!"

The sneering voice echoed down the hallway Mikey crept along. The narrow corridor curved away from the flight of stairs Mikey’d climbed as silently as possible, and at the far end, he could see a flickering light, like from a fire, cast upon the unfinished walls.

"Motherfucker!"

Mikey's heart soared. That was Gerard's voice! He raced up to the door and paused, listening for how many other voices there were.

The sneering voice laughed. "Aw diddums. You should have given me the map when you had the chance, Way, then little Mikeykins would still be in New York and not dead in a culvert somewhere." Mikey clenched his eyes shut. It was Nally, that asshole!. "I had him by the hair…"

Mikey heard Gerard suck in a shocked breath. No shit , bro. Mikey thought, By the hair!

Nally laughed. " If we watch, he'll float past eventually."

Gerard made a pained noise and there was what sounded like a scuffle. The sound of skin striking skin. Anger flared in Mikey’s gut. Then Nally said, "You better hope he survived. Coz if he's not here the second the sun goes down, you're joining him in the drink."

Okay, thought Mikey, that’s enough. He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do, but he had to do something. He walked out of the corridor, fists clenched and head high. "Let my brother go, you total dick," he said.

Through the door, Mikey could see the unfinished fourth floor of the hotel. One wall was missing, and beyond it, Mikey could hear the river flowing past below. A bonfire crackled in a grate in the centre of the wide concrete floor, and behind that was Gerard, tied to a steel drum at the edge of the room.

Next to him was Nally, gun in hand, with his foot up on the drum, making it teeter towards the drop.

"Mikey!" Gerard cried, and Nally pushed the drum back a little more with his foot.

"Oh ho! The miraculous Mikey Way appears!" Nally sneered, raising the gun. "That's close enough." He nodded and out of the shadows came one of his goons who grabbed both Mikey's arms, pinning them behind him. Mikey didn't struggle. He sighed.

"Hey Gee," Mikey said, raising his eyebrows. "I don't know about you, but I'm kind of disappointed that real life bad guys are just as predictable as fictional ones."

Gerard stared.

The goon dragged Mikey around the fire towards Nally. "Excuse me," Nally said hands on hips and tapping his foot. "I'm in the middle of threatening you people here."

Mikey looked at him over the top of his glasses. “You can back the fuck off. I have done exactly what you asked me to. I got the map, I came to Colombia; I fucking off-trailed through a fucking jungle and fucking bugs and fucking waterfalls to get here after you tried to kill me like ten times.”

Nally scowled at Mikey. “Cavorting with Ray del Toro and bringing in a local, ah…” Nally’s voice trailed off.

“Adventurer. He’s a local adventurer,” Mikey said, raising his chin a little bit. Gee squinted at Mikey. Who the fuck, Mikes> Mikey shook his head. Not now, Jesus, Gee.

“Whatever. That was not part of the instructions. I wanted you here a day ago, and I wanted you alone. Not bringing the CIA, the drug barons, and a pain in my ass… uh,”

“Adventurer,” Mikey supplied again.

“…Adventurer, along for the ride. You’ve fucked this up, Mikey Way. You were supposed to be alone!”

Mikey felt a pang in his chest. He sniffed and raised his head a little higher. “Well I am alone now. As you can see.” Yep. No hot professional adventurer in sight.

Nally sniffed and pointed his gun at Mikey again. "You’ll give me the map, Way, or we'll both have a jolly nice time watching your brother drown, before I begin cutting off your extremities and you give me the map anyway. Kind of a win-win for me, lose-lose for you situation."

"That was great boss," the goon holding Mikey said.

"Thanks, Nico," Nally said with a smug smile. He sneered at Mikey again.

The goon pushed Mikey closer to Gee and Nally.

"Holy fuck, Mikey," Gerard cried when Mikey staggered into the firelight. "What did you do to him, you asshole?!"

Nally smirked. "Not me, must have been the Adventurer,” he said and chuckled. “Guess he didn’t make it out of the river in one piece.”

"You are such a dick," Mikey said. "Let us go and I tell you where I stashed the map. That's the deal. You don't like it, kill us both and you’ll never find the map on your own."

Nally's nostrils flared. "You know," he said getting up in Mikey's face. "I thought your brother was the dumbest piece of dirt I ever met, but you take the churros, my friend." Nally poked Mikey in the middle of his chest. “Running all over the country with that imp, without even the vaguest clue what you had in your possession. El Corazon has been missing for thirty years. Hidden out there inthe jungle by some old drug baron, who probably stole it from some other drug baron, who no doubt stole it from the poor sap who dug it up in the first place.” Nally ranted, waving the gun about, making his nervous looking goons duck. “The legacy of El Corazon is blood and violence and greed. And I am the latest installment!” He said triumphantly, hissing in Mikey’s face. One of the goons started to clap, but stopped when Nally pointed the gun at him.

Mikey yawned. "Oh, sorry, were you talking to me?"

"Ungh!" Nally cried, and pushed Gerard and the drum back a little further.

"Mikey, Mikey," Gerard shouted. "He's fucking nuts! Give him the map and he'll let us go."

Mikey strained against the goon's hands. Fuck "Push him and you'll never get it. I swear to God. You'll never. Get. The Map."

Mikey narrowed his eyes. His heart was racing so hard he was sure Nally would hear it thundering in his chest and know Mikey was bluffing. He clenched his jaw and stared Nally down.

Nally's eye twitched, his foot slipped on the side of the barrel and Gerard, wide eyed and white, started to teeter backwards.

But suddenly Nally's foot was yanked back. He stumbled hopping a few steps with his leg in the air, arms windmilling, before falling on his ass with a yelp. Mikey heard the crack of a bull whip, the gallon drum tipped upright again.

"Now, now, let's all play nice," said Frank, stepping out of the shadows and reeling the whip in. Frank bent down and picked up Nally's hat – he must have had a thing for trilbys - where it had landed when he fell. He tipped it back on his own head, looked at Mikey, winked and said, "Whaddaya think?"

Mikey was pretty sure what he was thinking was written all over his face.

"You!" Nally screeched from the ground. He scrambled to his feet, pointed at Frank and shouted, "Get him!"

Goons shot out of every nook and cranny, armed to the back teeth and firing at Frank. Mikey used the distraction to throw his head back into the nose of the goon holding him. The guy dropped and grabbed his face, giving Mikey the chance to kick him right in the sack and take him out.

"Holy fuck!" shouted Gerard as the guy crumpled at Mikey's feet. Mikey raced to Gerard's side and started tearing at the ropes.

"Where the fuck did you learn to do that? And who the fuck is that guy?" Gerard said, rubbing his wrists a little once Mikey had freed them and then throwing his arms around Mikey's neck.

Mikey hugged him back hard. Mikey hissed. Over Gee's shoulder he could see Frank ducking and diving across the building site. A bullet pinged off the drum and Mikey pulled Gerard down with him behind it.

Gerard's eyes were huge. "Bro, I'm so sorry I got you into this; fuck!" He swallowed hard.

Mikey peered round the side of the drum and turned back to him. He grinned. "Okay, on the count of three, we're gonna run for the stairs, ok?"

Gerard nodded.

"Shoot the little bastard already!!" Nally screamed.

"One."

Mikey peeked up over the drum. Nally had his back to them, firing at Frank as he dove behind a pillar.

"Two."

Gerard was shaking. He looked exhausted, but his hand was tight in Mikey's.

"Three."

They shot out from their hiding place and ran. "Don't look back," Mikey yelled as he felt Gerard falter. They made for the far wall and hugged it, crouching to stay out of the firing line.

A bullet exploded into the wall, inches in front of Mikey. "Not so fast!" Nally yelled. Mikey froze, pulling Gerard close.

“Fuck that guy, seriously,” Gerard hissed. “I shoulda never fucked him.”

Mikey turned to Gerard slowly. “Ew.”

“I know,” Gerard said sheepishly. “It was the handle bar moustache. It confused me.”

“Oh Fra-ank,” Nally chimed. “Better come over here if you want your boyfriend to go home in Economy, not the cargo hold.”

Mikey heard a scuffle in the shadows behind Nally, and a goon dragged Frank out towards them his arms pinned.

“Don’t give him the map, Mikey,” he hissed.

The goon punched Frank in the guts and he doubled over.

“That’s enough, Nally,” Mikey said quietly.

“Don’t,” Frank wheezed.

Nally squinted between them, and Mikey pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Nally. He snatched it out of Mikey's hands.

“Mikey,” Gerard whispered. Mikey squeezed his hand.

"Oh, hey Gerard!" Frank chimed.

"Oh, yeah" said Mikey waving a hand in Frank's direction. "Um, Gee this is, this is Frank, Frank, my bro."

"Hi Frank," Gerard waved. “I like your hat.”

Nally put his hands on his hips, nostrils flaring. "Are you people fucking serious?"

Frank grinned at him and poked out his tongue.

"I like him," Gee whispered to Mikey, tipping his chin at Frank. Mikey felt his face heat up. "Me too," he said back.

With a sneer - he was good at them - Nally flicked open the paper Mikey had given him and turned towards the fire to read it. “Someone get me a goddamned flashlight," he barked over his shoulder. "And get rid of them.”

Two goons loomed in front of Mikey and Gee, another in front of Frank, and Mikey could hear Frank being hit hard in the guts.

“Gargh!” The goon shouted, leaping back and shaking out his hand. Frank was doubled over, but still grinning.

Nally looked up, and back at the paper, his eyes narrowed. "Where's the goddamned flashlight," he screeched. "I can't see a fucking thing!"

The goon went for Frank again, but ended screaming in pain, on his knees cupping his hand against his chest. Frank wheezed, his knees buckling with the blow and when he stood up again, something bright and gleaming dropped out from under his shirt. Frank caught it on top of his boot. It shone in the firelight.

Nally looked up. “Nobody move!” Nally shouted. The goons all stopped. "Not you, idiot!" Nally shouted at the guy with the flashlight. He grabbed it off him and shone it on the map.

"Oh shit," Mikey said. Nally scrunched what was actually the flyer for Felipe’s House of Hamburgers in his fist and rounded on Mikey, mouth open, ready to start ranting. But the words died in his mouth. He blinked. El Corazon sat glowing on top of Frank’s foot.

“Mikey,” Frank said, hopping a little on his other foot, struggling in the goons grip, “I ever tell you the Aztecs invented soccer?”

Mikey raised his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah,” said Gerard excitedly next to Mikey. “They did kind of; well, a form of it appeared in the Amazon culture around four fifty BCE, except... Oh, yeah, now is not the, ah, time. ” Gerard tapered off when one the goons waved a gun in his face. Everyone turned to look at Frank’s foot.

He was right by the edge of the floor, the tip of his boot hanging overthe river below.

Frank’s smile at Gerard was warm. He turned back to Mikey and lifted the jewel on his foot. “The aim of the game was to keep the ball off the ground for as long you could,” Frank continued. Then he kicked the stone into the air, wrenched his arm free of the goon holding him and elbowed him in the ribs.

Nally threw his gun aside and scrambled to get under the stone. Most of the other goons did too, ploughing into each other and fighting to catch it first.

Mikey ran to Frank and when they reached each other Frank cupped Mikey’s face in his hands and planted a smacker right on him. Mikey melted into it, but too soon, Frank was pulling back. “Vicky T is coming,” he hissed. “Get the fuck out of here.” Then he turned and clambered up the back of the biggest goon in the pile and leapt after El Corazon.

"Frank!" Mikey yelled, but Gerard was pulling him away, towards the door.

Mikey could hear a chopper in the distance. Seconds later, search lights started to sweep over the concrete and Nally’s goons were running out to the edge of the compound and firing on the chopper. Men in SWAT uniforms swung in and started firing back.

Frank had disappeared in the pile of goons all fighting to get to the stone. "Come on!" Gee shouted, pulling Mikey towards the door. Gerard was right; besides, Mikey wanted his brother safe. Frank could take care of himself in a fight; Mikey knew that.
But then he looked back and there was Frank on the far side of the bonfire, fighting with Nally. The firelight gleamed off the cut surface of El Corazon as it slipped between their hands. “Frank!” Mikey shouted. Frank looked up and Nally took the chance to sucker punch him, grab the gem and leap into the river. Frank’s eyes followed Nally, then he looked back at Mikey a pained look creasing his face. Their eyes locked for a long moment. Mikey shook his head. No.

Frank looked back at the water. “I’m sorry,” he shouted and dived in after Nally.

“No!” Mikey yelled, but Gerard grabbed him around the waist, hauling him back to stop him from running out into the open space between Vicky T's agents and Nally’s goons.

And then there were G-men and Colombian officials everywhere, and Bob was there, somehow, leading them out off the building site and into an unmarked van. It was all over. Gee was safe. And Frank was gone.

*

"Boarding is now open for Air Colombia flight 335 to Newark, USA. Would all passengers of Flight 335 please make their way to gate 19."

Mikey checked his emergency passport and boarding pass and looked back down the departure lounge. He didn't see anyone he knew. Beside him Gerard fidgeted with his bags, carrying them as he juggled a cup of coffee and his papers for the flight.

"There's Bob," he said, pointing at some seats by security. They made their way over to him and he shuffled to one side so they could sit down.

It turned out Frank had gone back to Vicky T and convinced her that Nally was the one who wanted to smuggle El Corazon out of the country. While Mikey was making his way into the city, Frank was being choppered to the CIA headquarters in Cartagena with Bob along to look out for him. Bob said that once they were in Cartagena and Frank convinced them to ambush Nally and protect the Ways, he promptly slipped his leash and made for the hotel.

“Presumably to make a run for it with the stone, if he was lucky enough to get to Nally first.” Bob shrugged. “I understand that rock was pretty big.”

“I figure,” Mikey said nodding and swirling his coffee in the cup. He felt weird sitting at an airport, ready to travel but with no luggage. Like he was missing something.

“Nally turned up downstream and Vicky grabbed him. They trawled the river,” Bob said quietly. “They didn’t find anything.”

Mikey closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear it. He’d been kind of a mess right after everything. He’d slept, and by the time he was conscious again, Vicky T had already arranged a flight for them back home. He’d missed everything. He was pretty sure he preferred it that way.

Gerard shook his head. “That’s actually a good thing.”

Bob nodded.

“Means, like he got away. Right?" Gerard said, trying to coax a smile from Mikey. "Maybe, maybe even with the stone?”

“Maybe,” Mikey said.

Gerard squeezed Mikey's hand. “We don’t have to leave,” Gee said. “We can stay. Look for Frank? He, I mean; he saved our asses.”

Mikey shook his head. If Frank had wanted him... He shook his head again. “I’ve got things I need to do, Gee,” Mikey said. “Besides, I came down here for you. I got you. He came for, you know, and he got it.”

Gerard frowned. “Mikey. But not before he made sure you’d be safe. And what about the two of you…”

Bob looked away.

“Yeah, well,” Mikey shrugged. “Oh! And speaking of, what the ever-loving fuck with creepy moustache dude, Gee?”

Gee turned red and swallowed. “That’s personal,” he said, returning to his sketchpad.

Mikey shook his head and sipped his coffee.

Bob sighed and stood up. “That’s your flight,” he said. Mikey stood next to him. He put his big paw on Mikey’s shoulder. “If, if we hear anything, we’ll...” He fidgeted a bit and rolled his eyes. “Ray, um, he wanted me to get your number and stuff. I’m sorry,” Bob said, wincing.

Mikey chuffed a small laugh. “It’s okay.” He wrote his address and number on a napkin from Gee’s coffee. “Thank him and Vicky T for me, kay?”

Bob folded it into his wallet and shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere near his hacienda for at least two weeks. They’ve got a lot of steam to burn off, those two. But I’ll tell them. When the smoke clears.”

Mikey made an effort to smile. “Thanks, Bob.”

“Take care, Mikey Way,” Bob said. He ruffled Gerard’s hair, and walked off.

***

"I'm sorry!" Franc-0 said, his eyes searching Mig -el's. "I have to..." He let go of Mig-el’s hands, jammed his zero G helmet on and ran to edge of the docking bay. Looking back,he sketched a wave over his shoulder before diving out the airlock.

Mig-el heard the sound of his propulsion unit firing and saw him shoot out through the forcefield, chasing the slip stream of Colonel Nol’s fleeing cruiser into the void.

Ger L-do, ran to the edge of the safe zone. "You can't just let him go!” he cried, his oxygen compressors flaring. Mig-el stood transfixed, staring at the place where Franc-0 had just been, his bionic heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes I can," Mig-el said quietly.

"But…"

Mig -el shook his head. "He followed his heart." Mig -el said, reaching out to take his brother’s hand and squeezing it. "And I followed mine."

The airlock closed on the binary sunset and the brothers walked into the heart of the ship, to freedom.

The End

Mikey pulled a tissue out of the box on James’ desk and handed it to him. James sobbed into it.

"Oh Mikey,” he sniffed. “I never thought a Big Gay Space Romance could be so...” He honked into the tissues, “fucking Romantic.”

Mikey stood up and walked to the big plate glass window looking over downtown Manhattan. He crossed his arms and shrugged. "You like it?"

James dabbed at his eyes.

Mikey smiled.

"It's - it's the most romantic thing I have ever, ever…"

Mikey reached out and handed him another tissue.

"It really was." Mikey said turning back to the window.

"But this isn't finished, right?" said James, smoothing out the final page. "I mean, Franc -0 and Mig -el. They find each other again, right? Don't they, Mikey?" James hiccupped.

Mikey walked back to the desk. “I honestly don’t know,” he said, picking up his coat off the back of his chair and shrugging it on.

“Listen, I gotta run or I’ll be late for class,” Mikey said as he walked to the door. “Gee said he’d do the cover.”

James waved a tissue at him as he left.

*

He got an A in class that night for his short Batman script. The tutor had told him he should submit it somewhere; Mikey thought he might. That was what he was doing the class for after all. It’d been weird going back to school, a frikken so-called celebrity already, but he wanted to write comics and he had no idea where to start. And he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that now. He found the class out in Brooklyn. No one there cared about Edgar and Ella. They liked Mikey a lot though.
On the subway home, he decided to call Gee and have him and Lyn over for dinner on Sunday, and maybe James and Jarrod too. He’d cook. Mikey liked cooking.

When he got out at his stop he had a text from Pete. “Guys round for Call of Duty Saturday. Wanna be my wing man?” Italics or quotations.

Only if you promise not to get your dick out the second I start kicking your ass Mikey texted back and he went up to his apartment, grinning.

There was a huge pile of letters and junk mail in his box when he got into the lobby. He dragged them all out, fumbled his way into the elevator, and entered the apartment where he chucked them on his desk as he passed through the study. Bunny, his new cat, wound herself around Mikey's legs.

"Hungry?" he asked her, and she mewled up at him and leapt up onto the counter. Mikey was hungry too, but he dealt with Bunny first, pulling out a can of kibble and spooning it into her bowl. He scratched behind her ears with one hand while she ate, and played his phone messages with the other. Couple from his mom, one from Gee, two from the guy he'd kind of been seeing, but wasn't that into, and one from a guy at the gym he'd given his number to a couple of days ago. Mikey smiled to himself. Maybe he had a date for this weekend after all?

He left Bunny to her meal, went into the study and flicked on the computer.

He picked up the pile of mail and shuffled through it looking for a pizza flyer, or something. Most of it was fan mail still. Mikey smiled. He still had plenty to say about romance, it seemed, and he kind of enjoyed writing to his fans these days.

There were one or two bills, one a letter from Scotland – that guy who wanted to turn Moonlight into a comic book again - and a flyer for Pepe’s Pizzeria.

“Pepe,” Mikey said flipping the flyer over and picking up the phone to call, “Tonight you are the man-”

Another flyer fluttered down from between two of the letters. He grabbed it and flattened it out.

Frankie's Pop Emporium the flyer screamed in bright yellow flaming letters. Platters, Pages and Piping Hot Coffee! said words juggled by some kind of vampire robot thing.

Cafe de Colombia our speciality, croaked a tiny drawing of a T-rex in the corner. The T-Rex was wearing a tee shirt that said TOROSAUR.

Mikey would have waited for the elevator, but taking the stairs three at a time was way, way faster. He blew past the mailboxes in the lobby and threw open the front doors of the building, lifting the flyer in front of his face and opening the map app on his phone to determine which way to go.

“Aw, come on, Mikeyway,” said a voice by the lamppost. Mikey lowered the flyer and looked up. Frank. “Take the beautiful novelist out of the jungle and he forgets how to navigate by heart.”

Mikey stared, panting. He swallowed and held up the flyer. “Did you…?”

“Did I what? Come all the fuck over here from my record and coffee store in Brooklyn to put this flyer directly in your mailbox so you’d know I was here, wanting you, if you even remembered me?” Frank asked, looking up at Mikey and biting his lower lip.
Mikey walked up to him slowly. He took hold of Frank’s arms, squeezed his biceps, and ran his palms slowly from Frank’s shoulders to his fingertips. Frank shivered, and Mikey arched an eyebrow at him.

“It’s a lot fucking colder here than in Colombia, dude,” Frank said.

Mikey smiled and looked down on Frank’s face. “You’re alive, you maniac,” he breathed, a little awed.

“What. A little river water can’t hurt me, Mikeyway.” Frank giggled. “I’m Indiana Iero.”

“Right. Not scared of nothin’,” Mikey said back, a small smile tweaking his lips, his fingertips running over the goose bumps on Frank’s inked forearms. “Not even spiders as big as your face?”

“Not even them,” Frank said, shaking his head. “Not even this.”

And he leant up and kissed Mikey, right there in the middle of the concrete jungle, amidst the traffic honking and the New Yorkers sidestepping them as though they were a mere bump in the road. Frank’s lips were soft and warm and alive against Mikey’s, and his hand was hot at Mikey’s throat.

“You staying?” Mikey asked when he pulled back.

Frank grinned. “We’ll see,” he said, and Mikey grinned back.

And the cars drove past, and credits rolled, and they all lived happily ever after.



THE END

Comments

[lucifuge-5.livejournal.com]

Dear writer,

I started to woo-hoo so hard while reading just the first part of this tremendously awesome fic that my glasses nearly flew off my face. Nothing. NOTHING! could've have prepared me for the sheer joy that rose up inside of me while reading this wonderful and kicky fic. I don't know if we know each other, so you might or might not know how much I love Romancing the Stone and Goonies and pretty much every 80s movie out there (from the really good to the really trashy.) Therefore, let me say that, the summary alone had me ♥_____________________________♥

What a fic!

I'm seriously shiny-eyed and infinitely grateful that you wrote this for me, mystery writer.

And now for some of my fave parts of what's fast become my favouriest fic everrrr:


Moonies! XD!

"Well, playing a half elf when your brother’s an Ork and the Dungeon Master taught me a lot about self control.”

LOL LOL LOL. I can imagine Gerard being a hardcore DM indeed.


Mikey looked up. "Dude. Margaret wanted me to say I based Edgar on Jared Leto,” he said, interrupting James mid-rant. “Because I have a crush on him.”

"Oh, yeah. Well,” said James, wincing and running his hands through his – blue this week – hair. “She ran the numbers with the ‘demographic’ and, ah, Leto came up tops."

Mikey just looked at James, who at least had the good grace to look sheepish.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


Except for that terrifying month in his senior year in High School when Gerard decided he was going to be a masked vigilante and ended up nearly garrotting himself swinging down from the roof of their garage on a rope made from their mom’s pantyhose and couple of bungee ties, Gerard had never really been in peril.

OH, GERARD!


Where the fuck was Manimal when you needed him?

OMG! *GOES BACK TO FLAILING*


But he didn't get to finish his dastardly monologue, because one of the screaming monkeys came screaming out of the jungle, swinging on an vine and bowled Nally on his ass, sending his trilby hat flying along with the gun.

Nally's head connected with the side of the bus with a sickening thunk, and then the screaming monkey leapt to its feet and asked Mikey if he was okay.

Only it wasn't a monkey, it was a short tattooed guy in khakis and a Misfits tee shirt. And it wasn't a vine he’d swung in on; it was a bullwhip, an Indiana Jones bullwhip, which the guy was shaking loose from the overhanging branch, coiling up and hanging from his belt. His… Indiana Jones belt.

There are actual!tears running down my face from laughing so hard at this! Way to make an entrance, Frank! Indiana Iero!


Batman and Indy as Mikeyway's jerk-off material is such a neat detail! Mikeyway's tiny!smile after the muddy luge.

Aaaaand, I'm wiping my eyes again because the scene in the plane was *catches her breath after re-reading it and laughing possibly as much as stoned!Frank*

Oh, and that quiet scene right after Mikeyway stares at Frank's tattoos? lskdjfl;askdjfl;sakdjflaskdjflkasdjf;slkadjfl;aksdjf;laksdjf;skadljf Total UST of the hightest degree! Bonus points for hitting one of my bulletproof kinks. :D!


"Na na na naaaa naaaa," he shouted back across the gorge.

Omg, you didn't, mystery writer! YOU DIDN'T! *LOVES IT*


Toro wasn’t just a drug baron. He was a Moonie.

BRB. DYING. DYING

[akamine_chan]

Dear Fic Writer,

You have ruined my life by creating this most perfect gift-fic for Luce. In the future, anytime I give her anything, she's going to look at it suspiciously before sighing sadly and saying, "It's not as awesome as that gift-fic I got at bandomstuffsit but I guess it's okay..." Seriously, I am going to be hearing about this for the next 20 years.

Thanks for nothing.

Not sincerely yours,

akamine_chan

[andeincascade.livejournal.com]

I know, right? We are RUINED, ruined FOREVER. *eyes Crazycakes Cafe story sadly*

[lucifuge-5.livejournal.com]

(Part two of my comment 'cause I totes \o/ about this fic. I mean, just in case it wasn't obvious enough. Ahem.)

How much did I love pirate!Ray with his geeky and romantic side and, oh, yeah, a Moonie? THIS MUCH!!!!


“YAAAAAAAAAAAHOOOOOO!" Frank hollered, as Ray’s ‘little mule’ - a monstrous souped up four wheel drive jeep - tore up a rise, sailed into the air and landed on two wheels. "Mad Mother Fucking Max!"

“Dude,” Mikey said, willing some blood back into his face so he could adequately express his horror at Frank’s driving.

\o/


Mikey tugged at the hem of the tee shirt and pulled up the jeans, checking himself out in the big ass motel window. His boots were pretty Tomb Raider. His name was Mikey, just like in the Goonies. And he was travelling with Indiana Jones Mark II. He was about as ready as a guy who spent his life shut in his apartment writing pseudo-porn was ever gonna get to go questing for treasure.

OH, MIKEYWAY! *pets him*


Frank stood and offered Mikey his hand.

Mikey didn't just have butterflies in his tummy; they were great big luna moths, batting their satin wings against his ribs. He felt like he was stuck in the middle of some crazy 1930s oddball rom-com. Only Mikey didn't know how, because all the little asshole did was tease him and push him off ravines and make him laugh and… shit.

Mikey looked at Frank's hand, and up to Frank's face. He looked so hopeful.

Mikey let Frank pull him onto the dance floor. Other dancers pressed in around them, and Mikey could feel Frank's eyes on him, the way he hadn't let go of Mikey's hand, the way he pressed closer to Mikey than anyone else.

“Come on, Mikeyway,” Frank said, reaching up and touching Mikey’s jaw with the tips of his fingers.

A crowed of pogoing teens pushed them and bundled Mikey closer to Frank.

Mikey bent his head. Their lips touched and Frank surged up in Mikey's arms.

His lips were warm and soft, and he parted them for Mikey as soon as he touched his tongue to them. He tasted like salt and the cheap wine they were drinking. He tasted incredible. Frank’s tongue against his, licking into him, felt incredible. Frank was incredible. God.

Mikey pulled back.

"Don't fucking stop now, Mikeyway," Frank breathed against his cheek, his hands clenching and unclenching at Mikey’s waist. "Please don't stop now."

Mikey shook his head, grabbed Frank's hand and the bottle of wine, and dragged Frank back to the motel.

*________________________________________________________________________________________*


“Wanna suck you so bad, Mikey. Fuck,” he breathed over Mikey’s tender flesh. And Mikey folded down over him, face pressed into the pillow as Frank did just that, sucked him in, moaning as Mikey’s hips stuttered forward.

FUCK, THAT'S HOT! Actually, the WHOLE SCENE is SCORCHING. *wipes fogged-up glasses*


Ray/Vicky-T = YAYS!


“Yeah, well,” Mikey shrugged. “Oh! And speaking of, what the ever-loving fuck with creepy moustache dude, Gee?”

Gee turned red and swallowed. “That’s personal,” he said, returning to his sketchpad.

I"m with Mikeyway, handlebar 'stache or no, Gee should've never slept with Nally. IJS.


Mikey pulled a tissue out of the box on James’ desk and handed it to him. James sobbed into it.

"Oh Mikey,” he sniffed. “I never thought a Big Gay Space Romance could be so...” He honked into the tissues, “fucking Romantic.”

;_________________;


Yays for including Jarrod!

And the end. LE HAPPY SIGHS!!!!!!!

Again, thank you, mystery writer, v.,v. much for this great story. I've got a feeling I'll be floating on air due to the sheer bliss of this here groovy fic of yours. ^_^

[delphinapterus.livejournal.com]

This is hilarious and charming. It really captures the tone of the movie and spins it into a completely bandom AU. Ray are the drug baron turned pirate was perfect. His Thing with Vicky-T was a great addition. I really liked that you made Vicky-T into an agent and how she fit into everything. Frank as the adventurer worked so well and kudos for dealing with his spider fear. Mikey as a vampire romance novelist was hilarious and I really like the snippets from it.

[akamine_chan]

Once you are unmasked, I should send you the IM chat transcript between me and lucifuge_5 as we flailed madly at each other for...a long time about this story. Never mind all the other people I c&p'd parts of the story to in chat, or all the people we bugged on Twitter to read this story RIGHT NOW.

Romancing the Stone and Jewel of the Nile were two of my favorites for the longest time - I remember seeing both in the theaters - I even owned the novelizations for many years. It also started me on a lifelong love affair with the pairing of Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas. And if you'd told me that Mikey would have made a great Joan or that Frank was perfect as Jack, I would have laughed at you.

I'm not laughing now.

Actually, I'm giggling at lot, because this was PERFECT. There were so many perfect lines in this (which I forced upon a random chat-person) because Luce was reading SLOWLY and I didn't want to spoil her with some of the great bits.

I did love this part so much:

Ugh “My bro,” Mikey said, cutting him off. “He’s pretty rich."

Frank leant back and narrowed his eyes at Mikey. “How rich?”

“Rich,” said Mikey. He looked Frank up and down. “Richer than you can imagine anyway.”

Because really, I wouldn't have ever imagined Gerard as Princess Leia, but you did it anyway.

Additionally, the sex was so fucking hot, hot, hot, but what totally got me in the gut was this:

His lips were warm and soft, and he parted them for Mikey as soon as he touched his tongue to them. He tasted like salt and the cheap wine they were drinking. He tasted incredible. Frank’s tongue against his, licking into him, felt incredible. Frank was incredible. God.

Mikey pulled back.

"Don't fucking stop now, Mikeyway," Frank breathed against his cheek, his hands clenching and unclenching at Mikey’s waist. "Please don't stop now."

And how badly Frank wants it. *fans self*

We won't even talk about this bit:
There were one or two bills, one a letter from Scotland – that guy who wanted to turn Moonlight into a comic book again - and a flyer for Pepe’s Pizzeria.

Scottish comic guy indeed.

This was an amazing story and so perfect for Luce it's not even funny. Well played, Nonny.

[pennyplainknits.livejournal.com]

This is so FANTASTIC! Romancing the Stone is one of my favourites, and I love all the little details. I was grinning like a madwoman all the way through and I adored it. And you get major props for recognising the awesomeness of Ray Toro's hair.

[annemaris.livejournal.com]

Ah, this was so delightful! I'm totally grinning right now. Adventure! Danger! Indiana Iero! Waybros! Such a fun, great story. Loved it!

[greedy_dancer]

There is so much humour and inventiveness and hotness and quirkiness to this!! I feel like I should have an 80s movie marathon just to make sure I caught all the references, which I'm sure I didn't, but it gave it a richness, and... Just, a great job!

[turps33.livejournal.com]

I loved reading this so much.

I'm sitting trying to think of a comment that'll do it justice, but am coming up blank. Just, I loved everything about it. I adored your Mikey and Frank, the pacing was just right and the supporting characters perfection.

Ray especially, with his huge picture of Mikey and love of romance and just. Everything about this.

I need to go work out how to get this onto my kindle right now, because it's a story I'll be reading over and over.

[madambeetroot.livejournal.com]

You had me giggling madly all the way through this - I remember those 80s films and shows so well (special kudos for mentioning Manimal, which I loved but no one else seems to remember!) I loved Mikey's Rolling Stone interview and your portrayal of his whole personality. And Frank, and Gerard, and Ray! So, so funny and great :-)

[alasse.livejournal.com]

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE. Seriously. ALLLLLLLLLLLL OF THE LOVE.

[evildudesrule.livejournal.com]

This was awesome! Mikey was adorable, Frankie being all Indiana Jones was great, and I totally loved Bob (of course) and Toro as a huge Moonie! Fantastic!

[ladyfoxxx.livejournal.com]

Oh wow, I got so excited when I read this summary - I had such high hopes because I ADORE Romancing the Stone and I was worried I wouldn't like the story but oh MAN it was so great! You did such a good job of "bandomising" the story while still staying true to the important parts of the movie. Mikey as a twilight-esque romance writer is SUCH a hard sell but you SOLD IT. Completely! I totally bought that aspect of his character and I LOVED hermity Mikey winding up in the Colombian jungle with his hair straighteners in his suitcase and just being as clueless as you would expect. Also, Frank as an Indiana-Jones-esque adventure hero? Another hard sell right there, but fuck yeah you sold that one too!

This whole story was such a riot. I loved your casting choices from fanboy-drug-baron-cum-pirate Mikey to Vicky-T as his nemesis. And of course Mikey did it all to save Gerard - he WOULD! And Gerard would totally have landed him in this mess in the first place.

The banter, the action, the twists and turns, the humour - you really did this justice. It was such a fun read and ugh, man IDEK what to say but this was just SO MUCH FUN. Thank you, mystery writer, this is GREAT.

[tempore.livejournal.com]

So, this was brilliant. Seriously, amazingly brilliant.

[anna-unfolding.livejournal.com]

I love so many things about this fic. Gerard's "dangerous behavior" in the past, Mikey deleting his fic word count romance novel copy, Ray as Mikey's biggest fan.... there seems to be some fic meta here. HMMMM. Frank all prickly around Ray till he sees the music *___* , the gorgeous sex scene, Mikey furiously calling Frank a sex tricking... what does he call him?? IDK it is hilarious. Oh god, I love the line where Frank says "Jesus there are two of you??" DEAD laughing. Because Frank, I know, right??? THAT IS WHAT WE ALL ARE LIKE. &Waybros;

This is pretty much a fabulous idea, wonderfully executed. Your wit comes through in every scene, and my personal opinion is that action sequences is what you live for in writing. :) But I especially like the ending, how you insisted that Frank follow his dream, and you let Mikey follow his. It's like Mikey is finally unfolding (forgive me), and the icing on the cake is that he gets to touch Frank again and see where it goes.

Eh, we should all be so lucky. :) Thank you for writing this!!

[kopperblaze.livejournal.com]

this was AMAZING! it made me laugh so much and go "awwww" as well. frank's and mikey's dynamic was great and i loved the humour in the story. ray toro, the moonie! i about died laughing. it was FANTASTIC!

i loved that at first it seemed like there wouldn't be a happy ending but then there it was :D it rounded the story off perfectly, nothing else would've fit :3

this'll go straight on my kindle so i can reread it many times

<333

[flakeofemerald.livejournal.com]

This was so fun, Ray cracked me up and I loved that there was a surprise around every corner.

[omens.livejournal.com]

This was such a great read, I loved it. AND SO WELL-SUITED TO LUCE, OMG. Cheers, you!!

[mizface.livejournal.com]

This was an amazing fic! I love how you changed up Romancing the Stone in just the right ways for the boys, and your casting is perfection. Lots of great references, and just a fun read, start to finish!

[gala-apples.livejournal.com]

I tweeted as I was reading this, because it was delightful.

Ahahah Mikey's writing twilight. I'm a few hundred words in and I can already tell this is going to be hilarious. (seriously, what a great opener)

Oh Mikey, you poor fuck. James squeeing made me wince, and you're the one that has to write that shit. (fanboy James made me legit shudder, because wtf, that sounds horrible. And every time you quoted it made it worse)

...okay so that was a big sudden twist. lol. gotta say I didn't see assassination coming. (sudden shocking WTF...clearly this fic is going to be more than Mikey having writing issues)

OMG WHAT IS GOING ON? THIS IS EXCELLENT. Frank is a monkey. (bb!Mikey sliding on the Kinsey scale and Indiana Iero being his perfect thing was hilarious)

0.o Ray Toro, drug cartel running Twihard. I DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH YES TO COVER THIS SITUATION. (and, like, Ray has a D.A.R.E shirt! and Bob is his bodyguard. And he has a massive poster! And he and Victoria had a thing! And the mule is a ridic fast car!)

And that's where I stopped tweeting, because I got caught up in the OH NO THEY'RE GONNA DIE! But they didn't, because you're not cruel and evil. Instead Frank's got a store! And of course he rips on Mikey for needing a map app. That was the perfect way to end it.

[onthehill]

I loved this so much!!!! Perfect pacing, and Indiana Iero is permanently setting up home in my head! I loved the Twilight ripoff and the Moonies! &MIKEY;

[turlough]

I'm not into Frank/Mikey at all but I love action/adventure stories and this was excellent! I love what you've done with the guys - Ray the drug lord turned pirate!! - and the story is clever and witty and funny. Great job!

[gorgeousnerd]

AMAZING STORY IS AMAZING. I can't come up with anything coherent to say because I was flapping my hands so much while I was reading. :DDD