Mikey Way- The Trick Is To Keep Breathing - Six

Michael sits at his kitchen table, holding his spoon in a bowl of cereal but staring out of the window. There had been alot of bad weather lately. Even though he'd woken up a couple of hours later than he usually would, the sky outside is dark and grey, completely hidden by heavy cloud and lightly falling rain. Michael pushes his glasses up so that they are sitting properly again and continues to stare at the bleak scene, still doing so when he hears a yawn sound from behind him. Gerard leans against the kitchen doorframe and stares at his little brother through one eye whilst rubbing the other with the fingertips of his left hand. He yawns once more before walking over to the table and dropping into the seat opposite Michael.

After watching the soggy flakes of Special K slowly drip from his brother's spoon, Gerard drags his gaze up to Michael's vacant gaze. "Mikey?"

Michael finally puts the spoonful of cereal into his mouth, and mutters back, "Yes?"

"How are you feeling today?"

Michael drops the spoon back into his bowl after chewing the mouthful of cereal. "Better. I don't think I'll have another day like yesterday. It was just a one off."

Yesterday Gerard had found him shaking and vomiting on the bathroom floor and, after his gag reflexes had subsided and he'd helped him to bed an hour later, didn't see him again all day. In bed, Michael had been nauseous, feverish and having trouble breathing.

"I hope so. Just in case, I called Dr. Ferguson and he said we should make an appointment so he can go over your medication just in case, you know, something's fucking with your body. You don't mind, do you?"

"'We'?"

"I kind of want to go to all your appointments with you from now on. That's okay with you, right?"

Michael shrugs and reaches for his spoon again. "Yeah, that's fine."

Gerard watches him stir around the contents of his bowl without bringing any to his lips. "Aren't you going to eat any more of that?"

Michael sighs, avoiding looking at his older sibling. He loves Gerard and, in a lot of ways, feels better about having him around, but he's become so used to living by himself that having someone worrying about him constantly is stranger than he thought it would be. And, after yesterday, Gerard' worrying had become even more apparent.

"You have to eat, Mikey." He prompts.

"I still feel a little nauseous."

Although doubtful over whether not eating is in Michael's best interest, nauseous or not, Gerard gives in after only a moment, picking up the bowl and walking over to the sink to wash it for him.

Feeling bad, Michael attempts to make conversation, "So, what're you going to do today?"

"I've got a job interview at that movie theatre near our old house."

"Gerard, you're only going to be here for a few months or so, you don't need-"

"Mikey, I'm not gonna freeload off you, okay? I need to make money somehow. And what did I tell you about talking like that?" He turns, leaning against the sink, and gives Michael a pointed look. "You don't know for sure that you only have a few more months left."

"Gerard, the doctors have all said-"

"Dammit, Mikey, they're not always right! I knew a guy who had a brain tumor- a brain tumor, Mikey- pressing against his brain, and he survived another five years before he was hit by a car crossing the road."
"You did not-"

"Yeah, alright, I didn't personally know him but I hear about stuff like that all the time. You deserve just as much as any of them did to outlive that... that fucking death sentence they put on you."

Michael stands and steps forward to awkwardly hug him, feeling horrible that he's causing someone so much pain. "It's no one's fault, Gee."

"It's still not fair."

Michael embraces him, unsure of what to do or what the hell kind of comfort you can offer someone when everyone involved knows that the imminent death is a certainty, no ifs, buts or maybes. Gerard eventually pulls away and smiles smally. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

A few awkward moments later, Gerard asks, "So, what about you, are you doing anything today?"

Michael nods, thinking of Sparticus Cafe. "Yeah, not much though. Just walking around and what not." He looks at the clock on the wall behind and to the right of Gerard's head. "In fact, I think I'm going to go now."

Gerard nods and then sits back down at the table. Before walking out of the door, Michael turns and says, "Good luck with the interview", causing Gerard to smile in thanks.

*

"Hi. What can I get for you, sir?"

Michael stands infront of the counter at Sparticus, staring at the woman behind it waiting to take his order. He can feel his palms sweating, he is that nervous. His normal logic pushed aside, he is fearful that Rachel hadn't been serious. That, despite what she'd said, she didn't want to see him again. He looks quickly at the door and then back at the woman who he supposes is Rachel's co-worker. "Um, hi... Uh, is Rachel working today?"

"No, I'm sorry sir, I just took over her shift."

Michael's face falls. "Oh, okay then. I'm sorry to have bother-"

"But she's still out the back, so I can tell her there's someone her for her and you can wait..."

"That'd be great. Thank you."

"No problem, sir," she smiles. "Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"No, but could you point me in the direction of where the astronomy books are?"

When Rachel emerges from what Michael assumes is the kitchen, he is sitting at one of the tables near the door, three different books about astronomy infront of him. He looks up when sensing an abrupt presence standing over him and hearing a feminine voice exclaim "Michael!"

He accidentally knocks the book he'd been reading to the ground from his lap in his hurry to get to his feet. Blushing furiously, he bends to pick it up again, and places it back on the table with the other two as he straightens up. Nervously adjusting his glasses, and after coughing, he finally says, "Hi Rachel."

She stares up at him, grinning widely. "What're you doing here?"

"Checking out your astronomy books. They're pretty good; I haven't seen that one before," he gestures to the book he'd dropped moments ago. "Uh, so... How're you?"

"I'm pretty good, thanks. And yourself?"

"I'm good also."

Michael nervously avoiding looking her in the eye and Rachel searching for words whilst staring at his face, they stand silently for a few awkward minutes. Slipping into her jacket and wrapping her scarf around her neck, Rachel makes a movement as if to leave, startling Michael into looking her directly in the eye for the first time during this encounter. She smiles warmly.

"Well, I'm finished here until tonight. Are you free?"

"Yeah," Michael answers immediately, blushing again, this time for the eagerness easily detectable in his voice.

"Would you like to do something?"

"I'd love to. Let me just," he picks up the books, "put these away..."

"Oh, you don't have to do that." She takes them from him and leaves them at the table he'd been sitting at as she leads him toward the door. "Us waitresses get paid to do stuff like that."

When they stand on the footpath outside of Sparticus; Rachel with her hands deep in her pockets and standing as closely to him as possible without frightening him off, and Michael with his chin buried in his jacket collar and arms folded against the cold; Rachel looks across at him. "So, what would you like to do?"

"I know it's really cold out here but there's this really nice park nearby I've been going to alot lately..."

"Lead the way."

As they walk side by side down the street, they fall into easy conversation, slowly learning small things about eachother.

"I can't believe I'm actually walking somewhere," Rachel says. "I usually drive everywhere."

"Really? I walk everywhere; I never learnt how to drive."

"Oh, so you're really into the environment and all that? That's cool."

"Oh, no, no. I smoke too much to be doing any good for the health of either the environment or the people around me. I just never got around to learning."

"You've never driven?" He shakes his head. "Wow. Then, what do you do, just take the bus everywhere?"

"Yeah."

"I only get the bus occasionally; like when my heap of shit car is getting fixed. I don't think the other people on the bus would appreciate me getting on reeking of French roast after one of my long shifts."

"I could think of worse things for a person to smell of."

"I guess but it's a shit to try and get the coffee stains out of your clothes. Especially when upset three year olds throw their order at you."

"That's actually happened to you?"

"Once or twice. What do you do? Have to deal with any temperamental customers?"

"I'm just an accountant," Michael replies shortly, hating to have to talk about his work.

"You don't like it?"

"I hate it. I never really wanted to do office work."

"Then why did you become an accountant?"

"It was a safe option." They cross a street and he gently puts a hand on her shoulder to guide her in the right direction. "Here we are."

Rachel looks around, causing Michael to assume she's never been to this particular park before, and starts to walk. They eventually end up at the lake's edge, standing close to eachother but not as close as Michael would like, he realises, staring down at their hands. They are close and it would be a very subtle movement he'd need to make to close the small gap. But he's not brave enough to do it and looks away towards the water instead. Rachel smiles and points out a family of ducks to Michael who, despite standing right next to a 'Don't feed the ducks' sign, pulls out a handful of bread crumbs from his pocket.
After watching the ducks feed on the crumbs, Michael looks down at Rachel. He is not surprised to see her staring up at him, knowing by now that it is a habit of hers to make direct eye contact as much as possible. "I'm sorry," he says after a beat.

"What for?"

"This mustn't be very interesting for you. I just always come here to feed them. We can do something else now-"

"Michael!" A masculine voice, which Rachel doesn't recognise but Michael vaguely does, calls out from somewhat of a distance.

They both turn around to stare at the jogger approaching them. It is Dean from the group therapy he'd only been to that one time, Michael realises. Dean jogs on the spot infront of them, smiling widely. "Hi Michael," he says, barely short of breath, and then nods at Rachel.

Rachel waves as Michael replies, "Hi."

"It's Dean."

"I remember," Michael assures him and then puts a hand on Rachel's shoulder, secretly glad to finally have an excuse to touch her again. "This is my friend, Rachel. Rachel, this is Dean."

They smile at eachother before Dean looks again at Michael. "I didn't see you at the last session."

After looking nervously at Rachel, he murmurs, "Yeah, I don't -"

"You should have been there! It was really good. Best session yet, hands down."

He smiles a little. "That's great, Dean."

"How about next week? You should go next week."

"Um, I don't really know... We'll see."

"I really do hope to see you there. Well, I've gotta keep running." He slaps Michael on his shoulder and then calls, before running off, "Bye Rachel."

"See ya," She yells after him, and then looks at Michael with one eyebrow cocked. "How do you know him?"

"He works in my building, a floor above me. In legal," Michael quickly lies. "So, what would you like to do?"

"Oh, Michael, I'm so sorry," she says, looking at her watch, "I'm gonna have to get going too."

His face falls noticeably. "Oh, well, okay... okay, then-"

"Would you like to walk me to the bus stop?"

Michael's expression perks up once more as Rachel leads them away from the lake and out of the park.