We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight, and yet I fight
This battle all alone

- "Nutshell" by Alice in Chains

•••

Their last encounter was an argument.

Mikey had approached his brother, Gerard, with a weighing on his mind-Gerard could see, from the forlorn look in Mikey's eyes.

"G," Mikey addressed him. "There's something I think you should know." Gerard had an idea what this something was, but he was listening. "That blog...," Mikey began cautiously, "about me."

A Tumblr blog had been publicly made by an anonymous moderator, all about Mikey's new relationship with a younger woman. The blog was slandering, making out the 32-year-old to be cheating on his wife with a 19-year-old model, whose pictures from said model's social media accounts were shown.

Gerard looked downwards, now avoiding his brother's gaze. "Yeah," he said simply.

He knew the negative impact this was having on the couple, the amount of backlash they had been getting. Mikey was getting called names, being told that he deserves to die, being accused of preying on underaged girls, and the reason this scandal is what caused the band to break up. Gerard himself had to block a user on Twitter for constantly harassing him about his brother.

Mikey took a deep, shaky breath. "I think I know who started it."

"Who?"

Heart palpitating, Mikey knew this would be a breach of some sort. Breaking down a new wall, exploring a risky territory revolving someone Gerard loves very much, as much as Mikey currently loves Sarah.

He says the name quick and quietly, bracing for impact: "Lindsey." Gerard tilted his head, his mouth agape, curling into a smile, as though this were a joke. "What?" Mikey asked, surprise building into him. "You don't believe me?"

Gerard shook his head. "No, that...that can't be."

Mikey crossed his arms, beginning to bounce one foot in agitation. "G, have you seen her Tweets? She was really angry with me."

"She was happy for you," Gerard assured. "Remember, she told you she couldn't wait to meet Sarah?"

"And then called her a 'pig' on the Internet!" Mikey's voice rose as frustration began boiling over.

To the public, Mikey was always known as the "quieter" of the two; the more reserved one. In private could Mikey show his vulnerability to the person he felt, as he once stated in an interview, understood him like no one else on Earth.

"Look," Gerard responded calmly, raising his palms outward, as though to try to tame Mikey's outburst. "Those Tweets were just titles she was brainstorming for her next art show. And, besides, anyone could've started that blog."

"Who? Alicia? Chantal? Anyone else from the fucking Coven?!" Mikey's voice broke, and he immediately put his hands up to his reddening face.

"We-well, no," Gerard stuttered. "I don't know."

"G, this whole thing is making me hate myself. I'm getting scared of going outside these days." He felt a pair of hands gently wrap over his own, and they were eased down, exposing his tearful eyes.

"You don't know my wife like I do," Gerard said softly, his tone free of any hostility with such a statement. "She's an amazing sweetheart who's been helping me go to the A.A. meetings. She would never do such a thing-not when you're practically family."

Mikey shook his head, disbelief casting over. He wavered more as he went on: "Clearly, she doesn't value me like she does Alicia. She was really upset when we separated. She-she must've been offended by me dating again so soon, and this is like her act of revenge."

Gerard fought the urge to roll his eyes at this consistent accusation. "What makes you so sure it was her?"

"On Twitter, she talked about how 'sloppy' I was in keeping this relationship private, which is the same word that was used on that blog. I-I just found the writing to be very similar to each other."

"Well, you can't just accuse her like this. Maybe you should talk to her yourself."

That was a scary thought. Mikey had always had an uneasy feeling about Lindsey. It was not that he disliked her; she could be nice, and he loved how close she had become to his now-ex-wife. In fact, he had envisioned the same type of friendship to spark up between Lindsey and Sarah. Now, not only did he know that Lindsey was being passive-aggressive behind his back, but he feared having to confront the person his brother-whom he has known longer than her-was already defending.

"No," Mikey voiced. He pulled away from Gerard's hold. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"My God!" Mikey exclaimed, causing Gerard to jump. "Some fucking help you have been! All you typed was that stupid 'Aww, pickles' shit back when this started!"

Gerard was taken aback and hurt by his younger brother's anger being directed towards him. "Hey, I was just as surprised by this as you," he explained in self-defense. "And I did put out a public statement, saying that there was no 'scandal' that caused the break-up."

Mikey took a step back. "I-I should go." He turned away, heading towards the front door.

"Mike, wait!" Gerard called. "C'mon. Don't leave like this."

But Mikey did, his chest numb and his mind in a daze, as he walked away from the very friend he thought he could always trust and confide in.

•••

Gerard missed his brother; seeing each other on a regular basis, speaking to him. He had tried calling and texting Mikey, but all were ignored. Since their last encounter, a void had been felt in his soul. It was not only Gerard's, but everyone else's calls Mikey had been avoiding.

How are you?

How are you today?

Mikey? are you there?

You're mad at me. I get it.

You don't hate me do you?

One day, his phone rang, and a burst of hope flew through Gerard. But the screen informed it was not Mikey. Instead, it was Mikey's Electric Century partner, David Debiak. Gerard answered, "Hello?"

"Gerard?" the voice responded, flat and grave.

Gerard froze, confused, before a dread took over. "Wha-what is it?"

"Aww, jeez," David heaved a sigh. "I'm so sorry, Gerard, to have to tell you this."

Gerard could feel his heart beginning to hammer, sweat breaking out, and body trembling as he picked up on how the man sounded like he had been crying-a hoarseness to his tone. "What, Dave? Is it something to do with my brother?"

"Yes, Mikey-he, uh..."

"Mikey?!" Gerard cried out, as if the phone was on speaker and the man in question were in the same room with David, able to hear him. The tears began to prickle at his eyes. "Where's Mikey?!"

The simple, straight-forward answer came: "He killed himself."

Gerard gasped sharply, immediately placing a hand over his mouth. It felt as though his heart had been ripped in half, his soul shattering. It felt as if the room had shifted abruptly, making him lose his footing.

"You know he loved you," the caller added, as a way of comfort.

Gerard collapsed to the floor, crying and quaking. He could barely even register his wife's palms on his shoulders, asking him over his increasing wailing what the problem was.

•••

But Mikey was not dead, as he later learned. Mikey was under a coma and in critical condition. The doctors have said that it is unlikely he will ever wake up.

Gerard was at Mikey's bedside in the hospital. Their parents had already visited, and left to give Gerard some time alone with him.

In a notebook that lay nearby, the pages contained lyrics for his brother. He had read the poetry out loud, wanting the words to reach Mikey's ear, somehow and somewhere in his unconscious mind. A page had become crinkled by the tears that had fallen and dried on it, along with being gripped tightly in Gerard's fingers. The lyrics expressed wanting to reach out to the one who could bring him down after experiencing a roller-coaster of emotions; to recall the times they had spent together growing up, dreaming of becoming famous, and into adulthood, getting into a routine with substances.

But writing and reading aloud his feelings is not enough, he decides. With a chair pulled up close, Gerard takes his brother's hand in his. Gazing into Mikey's still face-partially covered by the ventilator mask, hooked to the machine providing his breath-Gerard begins saying, tears once again brimming:

"Mikey? I hope you can hear me." He leaned in so his lips were closer to his ear. "Whatever it was I did, or didn't do, I am sorry. I'm sorry if I wasn't there for you when I should've been. Back when I was dealing with my own problems, too busy getting drunk and high, and considering suicide, I didn't even notice how you were doing. Not only that, but even while we were making The Black Parade, I was only thinking about me with my art. I know, we were all angry with you for wanting to leave, but we didn't realize just how bad your mental health was at the time." He brought Mikey's hand to his forehead, doubling over and letting out a sob. "I'm so sorry," he whispered shakily. "Even when I relapsed, I missed all the warning signs of your own addictions-you and Sarah. God, I was so fucking clueless."

He looked back up towards Mikey, whose chin had been wiped clean of blood, which had flowed from his mouth when he was found. He can only imagine what a horrifying sight it had been for David. The night after Gerard received the news, he knows Lindsey was by his side as he sobbed non-stop, unable to move his body; he remembers her hand caressing his back and shoulder until he finally fell asleep. Their 4-year-old daughter, in her own world and unaware of the situation, had been sent to be looked after by their close friend and neighbor.

Gerard continues, "Please don't hate me. We all love you, and care about you. I don't want a repeat of our grandma with how I regretted not spending more time with her before she passed. I don't want our last conversation to be that fight."

He had not forgotten Mikey's accusation against Lindsey. He still found it hard to believe that she would indirectly contribute to something like this. She must know how sensitive her brother-in-law is, and how much he means to her husband. Then again, Gerard never told her about Mikey's belief, outside of her addressing "that crazy blog" that left her disgusted and wondering who could have done it.

"If I had been the one to find you, I would've stayed right there in the ambulance, holding your hand, like I'm doing now." He gave it a squeeze, hoping Mikey can sense it. Then he reached out and ran his fingers through the brunette hair. "I wanna be here when you wake up."

He tried to get in a comfortable position, laying a side of his face on the pillow next to Mikey. Shutting his tired eyelids, he anticipated, at any moment, a stirring in Mikey's body. Eventually, an employee entered the room to inform the singer that visiting hours were over. Gerard obliged, giving a quick kiss to Mikey's forehead, before taking his notebook with him.

He wants-needs-to make it up to Mikey, but not until Mikey makes it through first.