Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/306797.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Gen
  Fandom:
      Bandom, My_Chemical_Romance
  Character:
      Mikey_Way, Frank_Iero
  Additional Tags:
      Activism, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Muteness, Gay_Rights
  Series:
      Part 2 of Rentverse
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-28 Words: 1192
****** Voicing Silence ******
by gala_apples
Summary
     Mikey does it because he thinks Gerard would want him to.
Notes
     This small scene is the reason approximately 75k of this 'verse
     exist.
     Also, this scene is repeated from Frank's point of view in Truths He
     Learned.
Mikey's not usually one for big gestures. But he hears about this thing and
thinks Gee would be really proud. So he shows up at school, hair sprayed
perfectly to his face, thumbs tucked into torn away thumb holes in his hoodie,
belt tight against even tighter jeans, with a piece of duct tape over his
mouth. Because it's showy, and Mikey doesn't really care about oppression, but
Gerard does.
He gets crap in homeroom, Simmons tells him to take it off. She uses her 'show
some respect' voice. He's not used to getting it; normally they don't even
notice him. The tape stays firmly on his mouth, but he does walk to the front
of the room and show her his placard. She frowns as she reads it, but lets him
go back to his seat. It'd be discriminatory or some shit if she didn't, and
with thirty years of teaching under her belt she probably has a great sense of
when to let shit drop.
He's got a spare second period, and by the time he's in third it's obvious the
teachers have conferred. The staff room: a den of gossip and evil and coffee.
Marks, the drama teacher, has clearly informed his most beloved students;
there's a rash of well painted and dyed kids walking around with their hands
over their mouths. Mikey guesses he should appreciate it. After all, it's what
this is about, making a show. Who better than Gabe Saporta to join it?
Mikey makes it through most of the day without being bothered. He watches
Ryland steal a whiteboard out of some freshman's locker and proceeds to explain
the situation to his audience. Then he tries to explain it to the jocks, and
ends up hitting one of them in the head with the whiteboard when they use a
certain phrasing. Ryland gets suspended, but everyone knows that it’s Brock who
is in trouble. Gabe and Vicky are not the sort of people you want to piss off.
The second to last class is study hall, according to his time table. What that
usually means is time to slap on headphones and ignore the world for forty-five
minutes – unless he's got homework to be done. It's rare, but possible. He's
probably not going to make it into university, but it would be good to keep his
options open a little longer.
Mikey slaps on Placebo and considers his English questions. They're five
percent of the grade, but he fucking hates short stories. Such a waste of time
and it's only worth five percent of the whole semester's mark. Still, it would
be easy enough to crank some shitty answer out, and it's five percent that
could give him a 53 instead of a 48.
His grade calculating is interrupted by somebody dive-bombing the seat next to
him. He's not surprised at all that it's Frank. Frank is the crazy guy in his
gym class, the tiny guy that looks like a run around the track would fucking
kill him, but somehow always turns his manic energy into first place wins. He's
a rare breed, the sort of person that's an athlete but not a jock. He fucking
talks to Joe Trohman, for fucksakes. Nobody does that, except for his little
group of weirdos. Not that Mikey's against groups of weirdos. He sincerely
hopes Gee's managed to make his own in university. It's just a measure of how
non-jock-y Frank is.
"So, what's that about?" he gestures to his mouth, and Mikey rolls his eyes,
because really. Even if he wanted to, how the fuck would he tell him?
"Okay, point. Come." His hand is on his shoulder, and Mikey isn't used to this
sort of casual touch – at least not at school. With Gerard it's different, they
touch like they breathe. At whatever club he's sneaking into it’s different,
because that's the point, the music and the touching. But school isn't a place
for it; school is for duck-and-cover, making sure the little attention he
attracts is only from the right people. It's shock more than anything that gets
Mikey to stand.
Frank tugs Mikey from the spread of tables over to the double row of computers
against the wall. He logs in, fiero, a long string of tiny dots like he
actually cares whether or not people guess his password. Mikey didn't know his
last name before, it's vaguely irritating he's got his own name while he has to
be mway21 because Way isn't original enough to have him as the only student.
"I'm just gonna haveta figure this out myself." He pulls up Google and types in
'crazy motherfuckers with duct tape'. He scrolls down the page, clicks 2 on the
bottom and scrolls again.
"It's all fuckin blogs and lyrics. What the hell?"
Mikey takes pity on him. He stretches over Frank to awkwardly type, elbow
digging into the smaller boy's thigh as he plucks at the keyboard with his
right hand. 'Day of silence'.
He doesn't watch Frank read the Wiki article, but he can tell when it's done by
the scoff he makes. "That's it? That's why Ryland took out Brock?"
He doesn't know why he cares, but he really hopes that Frank doesn't think it's
bullshit. There's something in him that wants Frank to not be a bastard. He
doesn't let himself react when Frank walks away without even saying anything,
like he's going to catch bisexuality by being too near Mikey. Pathetic. It's so
fucking lame. He doesn't know why he's shocked that people suck.
He skips tracks until he's back at 'I Know'. It's bitter, and it settles around
his shoulders like a cloak. He decides against the English homework. Fuck it.
Frank seriously needs to stop with the hand on the shoulder caring priest
thing. He's sixteen, and male, and it's creepy. That is, if Mikey cared about
what Frank does, which he doesn't. It kind of hurts that he can't tell Frank to
fuck off, but the honest part of him reminds him he probably wouldn't anyway.
He'd just stay silent and stare until the person went away – which is really
fucking applicable here, so he shrugs out of the light grip and stays still.
"Do you know few people actually have Sharpies here? You know I had to go all
the way to the fuckin' art hallway? Ridiculous. You'd think there'd at least be
someone wanting to vandalise the bathroom or something."
It is actually a bit surprising, but Mikey doesn't care. He just wants him to
fuck off.
"Anyway, w'ad you think? I didn't think I'd be able to shut up, but this could
work. Right?" Mikey doesn't know what he's talking about, and reminds himself
that he doesn't care. But he still looks up, to see what Frank is talking
about.
His shirt, his bright red expensively logoed shirt is inside out. And scrawled
over the chest where you can still kind of see the white logo is written
'homophobia is gay' in messy black lines. Mikey's lips twitch under the tape.
It would be a smile, if anyone could see it.
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