Something's wrong with Gerard, and Frank's life is put in danger when he becomes part of an ancient curse. (Werewolf Frerard.)
Two figures slid across the cemetery, pausing every now and then to check the darkness for watchful eyes.
"I think you're making a mistake," one of the figures hissed. This one was a bit shorter that the other, with brown hair that was straightened under his glasses. "What if something happens?"
The second figure, black-haired and pale, waved a hand in dismissal. "Nothing will happen if you'd just shut up!" he growled.
A house loomed in the shadows, dark and silent. The two young men in the cemetery approached it warily, as if at any moment it would awake and eat them. The older boy tensed in anticipation.
Suddenly, a window on the ground floor slid open and a person climbed out. The person was around the same age as the older man in the cemetery, but shorter than both him and his brother. The boy from the house glanced over his shoulder and sped away into the night.
"There, see?" said the first boy, fidgeting with his glasses. "He's safe. I still don't see we need to do this every night."
The black-haired brother sighed. "We don't need to do anything," he said for what felt like the hundredth time. "I need to do it. You just follow me. You're welcome to leave," he added, pointing at the cemetery gate.
"And let you get caught?!" the younger man whispered angrily. "No way!"
The black-haired boy ruffled his brother's hair, knowing he hated it. "All right. We can leave now." Casting one last longing look at where the black-haired boy had disappeared, the oldest brother dropped down on all fours and began walking away from the house. After a moment, his younger brother followed.
No one noticed as two wolves, one light-brown and one brownish-black, silently left the cemetery and blended in with the shadows.
Frank Iero liked to pretend that he was normal.
Every day from Monday to Friday he'd wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, say good-bye to his parents, go to school, go to work, go home, wander around the house for a few hours, eat, and sleep. No drugs, barely any alcohol, only a few smokes during the week, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, isn't life a freakin' dream?
But there was something about him that immediately made other kids avoid him. It could've been his 'emo' hairstyle, his dark clothing, or just the fact that he screamed different. No matter how hard he tried, Frank just couldn't seem to blend in with the other twelfth-graders. Students had managed to label him as everything from 'faggot' to 'that suicidal kid'.
Walking home from work on Wednsday afternoon, Frank found himself thinking about this. Routine made him able to both do a deep study of his life while avoiding New Jersey traffic without trying. Yup, gotta love that bland taste of normal.
Frank sighed and started humming tunelessly over the sounds of sirens as a police car zoomed by. This wasn't uncommon; Jersey always seemed to be teeming with criminal activity, no matter what time of day.
Frank watched the police car go without much interest. A few years ago, those sirens would've driven him crazy with worry for his parents. His biggest fear was that something would happen to them while he was out. But after nearly four years of hearing them every day, his biggest fear was that they'd run him over in their haste to catch whatever yahoo they were chasing after.
A cemetery appeared to his right, looking completely harmless in the June sun. Frank had heard rumers about vampires resting in the mausoleums, but not once had he seen one. Not even when he walked by after a late shift at Wal-Mart. An image of living corpses running cash registers made Frank smile as he passed the gates and headed up the driveway to his home.
His house was surprisingly normal. If any of the kids at school walked by, the last person they'd think would live there would be Frank. It was settled in between the cemetery and an abandoned house, so noise wasn't too much of an issue. The hedges lining the driveway were a little shaggy, the white siding of the house was a bit yellowed, and the gutters would need to be cleaned out soon, but it had a pleasant feel to it; one of comfort and home.
Frank swung the door open and threw his bookbag on the little bench in the entry hall. "I'm home!" he yelled.
"Good to know!" his dad yelled from the next room. "How was school?!"
"Okay!" Frank screamed, smiling. "I'm just gonna hang out around town!"
"Don't get raped!" his father shrieked.
"WASN'T PLANNING ON IT!"
Frank backed out the door, listening to his father chuckle. His mom was probably upstairs, wondering what she had gotten herself into when she married Frank's father. After waving at the upstairs window from the yard, Frank took off again and started down the street.
He passed the cemetery again. The headstones were lined up in neat rows, looking completely harmless. Rotting hands did not suddenly shoot from the graves and claw at the earth, as Frank had imagined when he was little, and nor did any bloodthirsty creatures jump from the mausoleums and threaten to eat the passing boy. The cemetery was just another place to say good-bye.
For some reason, Frank felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. The sense of something lurking beyond the stones was suddenly overwhelming. He quickened his pace, checking frequently over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed.
'Idiot,' he thought when the cemetery dropped out of sight. 'Shouldn't get yourself worked up like that.'
Frank was just turning his head to face the street when he ran into something. Surprised, he went flying backwards onto his ass. Judging by the sound of another thump and an 'Oof!', Frank guessed that whoever he'd run into was on the ground too. Frank raised his head to yell at the other guy and stopped dead.
The guy had to be at least eighteen. His gangly limbs were hidden beneath a dark-gray hoodie and jeans, with a pair of beaten-up DCs covering his feet. He had black hair that was short, but long enough to cover his ears. His eyes were wide and dark; dark enough that Frank couldn't decide what color they were. Frank also couldn't help but notice that he was a very pretty man.
"Sorry, dude," said the pretty man. "Wasn't expecting you to-" He broke off, squinting at Frank with an intensity that almost made the other boy squirm. "Wait... Frank?"
Recognition struck Frank instantly. A smile spread across his face. "Gee!"
Gerard grinned back. "Small world, man!" He stood and helped Frank up, yanking the shorter boy off the ground with one swift movement. "I was just on my way to see you!"
Frank straightened his bangs with his hand and swept them to one side. "So you moved back?" he asked excitedly.
When Frank was twelve, he and Gee were inseparable. Gerard's family used to live next-door, so they were constantly around eachother. The two boys had been best friends for longer than either could remember until Gerard turned thirteen. That was when his family suddenly packed up and left Churstone Street without so much as a good-bye. Frank had spent the rest of his days wandering around at school by himself, and for a whole year he couldn't even look at the abandoned house next-door.
"Yeah," said Gee, also fixing his hair. "Got back yesterday. Maine wasn't too bad, but after five years, we got bored." He looked Frank up and down. "Still short, I see."
"Piss off, Gina," Frank shot back, remembering Gee's other nickname. "You're not exactly a giant yourself, you know."
Gerard laughed. "So, where were you going?"
"Town," Frank said simply. "I've got forty bucks burning a hole in my pocket from yard work."
"Can I come?" said Gee.
Frank smiled up at him. "Well, duh! It's been five years, man! We've got hell to raise!"
Gerard's face split into a dazzling smile. The two friends started walking toward town, taking their time and catching up with eachother.
Frank found out that Gee had kept his interest in art, even though what he drew was a bit strange. He'd spent his time in Maine working at a bookstore in Bangor ("Steven King's house is huge, Frankie!") and playing guitar in a band that was going nowhere fast.
"Do you still suck at guitar?" Frank asked, offering Gerard a piece of Juicy Fruit gum. Gee took one.
"I am the motherfucking KING at playing guitar," he answered seriously.
"You still can't play, can you?"
"Not a damn note."
They reached the center of town in about ten minutes and found themselves outside the mall less than two minutes later. Frank opened the door for Gee with a flourish and followed him inside.
Gerard whistled, looking around. "Nothing changes here, does it?"
Frank shrugged. "I'm not here often enough to notice," he answered, leading his friend to the map next to the fountain. "Where do you want to go first?"
Gerard opened his mouth to answer when a voice cut him off.
"Hey, Frank! That your boyfriend?!"
Frank whirled around to yell at a brown-haired girl in a blue skirt. "Piss off, Rachel!"
Rachel laughed and leaned closer to her boyfriend, a blonde guy who was about two years younger than her. "I guess he's too cute to go out with you!" she giggled. "Hey, hot-guy! If you want a good time, call me!"
Her boyfriend looked hurt, and Frank felt sorry for him. "Sorry about that," he said to Gerard. "She's a bitch."
Gerard shrugged, glancing back at the map. "Actual- Oh My God!" he said, bouncing up and down. "There's a Dairy Queen here!"
Rolling his eyes, Frank led Gerard to DQ for a blizzard.
-- HoWL --