Mirrors Don't Reflect; They Reveal

Chapter 4-Werewolves: They Have Feelings, Too

By now, it was 10 p.m., and Mikey was finally awake. He went around the house, looking for Gerard. Nothing. The kitchen? Nope. Living room? No. Balcony? No. The...basement? He grabbed the doorknob, calling out Gerard's name.

Gerard was lying on the ground, covering his ears while staring up at the ceiling as Frank went on and on about his life. It was torture. But Gerard managed to distract himself by counting the seconds. At this point, Frank had been talking for one hour, twenty-three minutes, and seventeen seconds. Nonstop. Gerard could have sworn he heard his name called out. But it was probably his imagination.

Sighing, Gerard closed his eyes. He felt tired. It was only about 10 p.m., which means he should be awake. But he was so, so tired. He felt himself drift off to sleep. A dreamless sleep.

"Gerard."

"Wake up."

"Gerard, wake up."

"Gerard, get up."

"Gerard Arthur Way, if you don't- what the hell?! Can you not kick me in the mouth?"

"Let me sleep," he muttered.

"Gerard," said a voice different from Mikey's, "that's a pretty name."

"Piss off," Gerard mumbled, rolling over and tiredly moving his hand to slap Frank. It didn't work, however, as Gerard didn't open his eyes, and was too tired to think straight. So instead he ended up just putting pressure into the side of Frank's shoulder.

"Get the fuck up," Mikey hissed.

"Let. Me. Sleep," was Gerard's response. That's when Frank got an idea. He giggled and went behind Gerard, slipping his arms underneath Gerard's armpits, lifting him up. He had Gerard up in a way where it looked like Frank's arms were actually Gerard's, and the real arms that belonged to Gerard were just the arms of a puppet that had their strings cut.

"I'm Gerard and I don't care about werewolves," Frank said in his best attempt to mimic Gerard's voice. "All I do care about is sleep and getting rid of a cross around a...werewolf's...neck," Frank said, trailing off when he caught Mikey's eye. "...you're a vampire, too, aren't you?" he asked, withdrawing his arms, causing Gerard to fall backward and hit his head on the floor.

"Holy shit, don't do that," Gerard hissed, feeling the back of his head with his hands. He forced himself to fully wake up, massaging the back of his head. "And yes, Mikey is also a vampire. Mikey, don't kill him. We made a...not very beneficial deal. His name is..." Gerard looked at Frank. "Frank Iero," the werewolf said, beaming. "Well, that's just my first and last name. I'm actually Frank Anthony Iero, Jr. Named after my father. But my family calls me Paco. It's Spanish," he said, grinning and holding his hand out for Mikey to shake.

"R-Right," Mikey said, hesitantly grabbing Frank's hand and shaking it. "Well, I'm Michael James Way. Just call me Mikey. And you already know Gerard, apparently," Mikey said. Frank nodded, looking at Gerard. "He's a really grumpy guy." In all honesty, Frank hated the word 'grumpy'. It just sounded weird to him. It made anybody who was 'grumpy' sound like some old man in his 70's screaming at some teenagers to get off his lawn. Frank preferred to use the word 'cranky'. It sounded more...Frank. It had more letters as Frank than 'grumpy' did. And the word 'cranky' just came out easier. When Frank heard the word 'grumpy', it reminded him of someone who was mean and arrogant and a total douchebag. When he heard the word 'cranky', he imagined a young toddler whining after not having got enough sleep. And in Frank's opinion, he'd rather take the latter any day. He hated silence. Almost as much as he hated the word 'grumpy'.

But in this scenario, Gerard was more grumpy than he was cranky. And it showed on his face. He was sitting up, his legs crossed over one another. In other words, he was sitting crisscross applesauce. A phrase Frank also hated. He thought it sounded dumb. Why the applesauce part? Why did it have to rhyme? What if you're pissed and don't know what else to call it? Tailor Sitting makes sense, but that was more with your feet touching rather than 'crisscross applesauce'. Just call it crisscross or something. Like, if you're mad at the world and gotta say how someone is sitting, you'll feel stupid saying crisscross applesauce because you're supposed to be mad, not sound like a kindergarten teacher.

Back to Gerard's sitting position. He was sitting crisscross applesauce(Frank still hated the phrase). He had his elbow digging into the side of his knee, and he was resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Bored. Or tired. Probably both. The same phrase continued to repeat in his mind.

'How the hell did a hot vampire kidnap me?'

"I'm not," Gerard muttered, startling both Mikey and Frank. What was he talking about? Frank narrowed his eyes at Gerard. "I'm not," Gerard repeated.

"I'm not hot."

Frank's eyes widened. Did...did Gerard just read Frank's mind? Silence stretched out through the room. Well, basement. To answer Frank's question, "Yes, I did read your mind," Gerard said as he stared at the ground. "And you never told me you were a werewolf," Gerard pointed out.

"I didn't?" Frank asked, tilting his head to the side and glancing at Gerard with confusion in his eyes. Gerard nodded. He then looked at Mikey, and Mikey stared back at Gerard. They didn't speak. Gerard lacked any emotion on his face, yet, Mikey did make several facial expressions. First, he narrowed his eyes at Gerard. Then, his eyes widened and he recoiled slightly. Then, he sighed and looked at the ground before looking back up at Gerard and nodding firmly.

Frank guessed they were probably communicating in their minds. Gerard could read Frank's mind. So there was a chance the two could read each other's minds. Gerard stood up and walked off, and Mikey turned to Frank. "So, what's it like being a werewolf?" he asked.

Frank was genuinely shocked that Mikey seemed interested in being a werewolf. But, at the same time, Frank was interested in vampires, so he shouldn't be shocked. He shrugged. "Like being a human, but slightly different. You're forced to take some sort of sedative every full moon so you don't shift and kill any humans. And we have to avoid any other animals as well as silver. That's why that...used-to-be necklace over there was made of string and wood. Not silver," he said, gesturing to the stomped-on necklace in the corner.

"Sounds kinda like vampires in a way," Mikey responded. "Basically humans, but you have to avoid specific things, such as hot temperatures, garlic, crosses or anything religion-related, werewolves," he said, narrowing his eyes at Frank, "sunlight, fires, and wooden stakes." Frank raised his eyebrows at Mikey. "But we get special powers," Frank said. "We have our own language and we can smell things better and hear things better-" but Mikey cut Frank off.

"Same here," he said. "We can smell blood from miles away, we can live for thousands of years, we can read minds, teleport, shapeshift, go invisible, run fast, and we're really strong," he said, listing everything off on his fingers. "Well, that's not fair," Frank said, pouting.

Mikey didn't say anything. He was staring just a little above Frank's head. But Frank didn't notice. He did, however, feel a small prick on the side of his neck. He was about to feel on his neck for why his neck started to hurt, but Mikey said something, rushing the words out a little too quickly. "Huh?" Frank asked, looking at Mikey.

"I-I said, 'what's it like to touch silver?'. Like, how does it feel?" Mikey said. Frank shrugged. "It's like touching fire. It...it burns."

Frank felt himself getting drowsy. By now, the prick in his neck was completely gone. Maybe it was because he had been awake since, what, 5 a.m., and it was now...10:30 p.m. or something like that. "10:27," Gerard said, walking back over next to Mikey. "It's 10:27." Frank was caught by surprise. Not because Gerard had just read Frank's mind. But because he knew the time. There were no clocks in the basement. And neither of the three had any watches.

So how did he know? "I just do," Gerard said, shrugging. "I know things."

That was the last thing Frank heard before passing out.