Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
Gerard woke up on that fateful day, in the worst mood he thought possible. A rather loud pounding had settled in his head, giving him the most gut wrenching headache he could imagine. His hair was a mess, as it always was in the mornings, and his stomached ached. To make it all the more worse, it was his birthday. Gerard was completely prepared to have the worst day of his life.
He stepped lightly up the stairs, trying to keep any sounds to a minimal to avoid his head spontaneously combusting. He wanted nothing more than a pop-tart, a new comic, a couple Advil, and to go back to bed. Naturally, his bother had very different ideas. Mikey shrieked at the sight of Gerard, and nearly bowled him over in a hug.
“Happy Birthday Gee!” Mikey screeched, yanking Gerard over to the kitchen table. Mikey shoved Gerard down into a chair and scuffled over to the stove. Mikey was a very calm and quiet kid most days of the year, but Gerard’s birthday was not one of them. Gerard buried his face in his arms. He just wanted to go back to bed. Mikey could pick up on hints pretty easily, especially Gerard. The age difference did noting to affect the closeness of the boys. Mikey stopped poking the pop-tart with a fork and shuffled back over to the table.
“What’s wrong, Gee? It’s your birthday.” Mikey asked quietly. He poked Gerard in the arm with the sticky fork.
“I’m just not feeling good, Mikes,” Gerard groaned, his face still on the table. Mikey rubbed his back with one hand. Their mother, Donna, walked down the stairs in her pajamas. Mikey pouted at her. She stopped and sat down in the chair next to Gerard.
“Honey? What can we do to make you feel better?” she asked, soothingly. She tried hard to be a good mother, which isn’t easy with two boys. Gerard moaned. Donna sighed looked to Mikey. Mikey understood and bolted to the bathroom. Donna picked Gerard up and carried him down into his room in the basement. Gerard liked having his room in the basement. He felt it made him seem creepier and he liked it that way. It also allowed him to have free reign on his music volume. His mother always warned that he shouldn’t listen to it too loudly, otherwise he’ll go deaf. Donna laid Gerard back down in his bed and took his temperature. He didn’t feel too warm, but that didn’t mean he was fine. Gerard had been getting what Donna assumed were migraines for a couple months, and she had no idea what to do about them. Mikey appeared at the door, clutching a bottle of Advil. He looked over Gerard, worriedly. Donna motioned him to come in. He stepped quietly into the dim room. There were no windows, making the room dark even with the lights on. He handed his mother the bottle, who scooped out two pills and handed them to Gerard. He sat up minutely and downed them without so much as a glass of water. He’d gotten a lot better at taking pills as he doubted he’d survive if he didn't take them.
Mikey sat on the edge of his bed in silent vigil. He was worried sick about Gerard. But there was nothing he could do except sit. And worry. So, in desperation, Mikey slouched off the bed and sat down on the floor next to Gerard’s head.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Gee. I hope you’re not dying or something,” Mikey whispered. Gerard stifled a laugh.
“I’m not dying, Mikey. It’s just a headache,” he replied, face down in his pillow.
“Yeah well we still have people coming over to celebrate. C’mon, you love your birthday,” Mikey encouraged him, smiling. Gerard turned his head to face his little brother. Mikey looked so giddy for him, that Gerard sat up.
“Alright. Just pipe down. And turn the lights off,” he commanded lightly. Mikey complied and ran all around the house, turning off all the lights. Gerard slowly emerged from room and hobbled out into the Kitchen once again. Mikey grabbed the pop-tart from earlier and brought it over to Gerard. Gerard smiled delicately at him and took a bite of the pop-tart. Mikey was too good to Gerard and they both knew it. Donna walked past and pressed a kiss onto the top of Gerard’s head. He smiled at her.
“I don’t know how you do it Mikey. He always listens to you, but not me,” she sighed, looking through the mail. Mikey giggled, and stole a bite of Gerard’s pop-tart. Their mother looked at the clock on the wall and sighed.
“Gerard you’ve got about an hour before guests start arriving, and you can bet that your grandmother will be the first one here,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair. Gerard massaged his head gently and dragged his feet back to his room. He hadn’t realized how late he’d gotten up. Mikey sighed.
“He’s just not feeling well, honey. He’ll be better soon. You know how these things are,” she whispered, watching Gerard descend the stairs into his room. Mikey nodded and hopped off of his chair. He pouted and dragged his feet into his own room.
Their mother was right in that their grandmother was the first to arrive. This was good news to Gerard and Mikey, who absolutely adored her. She would listen to their problems and tell them to suck it up in the nicest way possible, and they loved it. Mikey flung himself into her arms the moment he laid eyes on her.
“Mikey! My goodness you’ve grown quite a bit! Jesus you’ll be taller than me soon!” She exclaimed. Mikey, who was quite thin for his age, made up for it in height. The whole family could already tell he would be taller than Gerard. Gerard walked over from the corner where he had been pretending to be dead. Their grandmother gasped at the sight of him.
“Gerard! There you are! Happy Birthday, sweetie!” She cried. Gerard smiled and hugged her, despite the pounding in his head which was getting worse. Maybe the Advil is wearing off, he thought. She released him and gripped him tightly by the face. She looked him deeply in the eyes, so much that it began to frighten Gerard by the time she let go.
“Honey, are you alright? You look awful,” she stated.
“Donna don’t start with him. Especially not on his birthday. Have some common courtesy,” his mother scolded. Donna sent one final concerned look at him before turning and smiling back at Donna. She began to rant once again about the boys as she waltzed into the kitchen. But Gerard didn’t hear a word, he was too busy thinking. He could only remember the look in her eyes, only moments ago. She had stared at him so strongly that he felt there was something he was supposed to understand by the look. An extra light had glittered in her irises. Gerard thought for a split second, that he remembered it from somewhere, way back in time. He wasn’t that old, so it couldn’t have been from that long ago. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed almost… Magical.
Gerard’s party was a complete drag, according to Gerard. Most of the attendees were family members, who treated him like royalty on his special day, and a few friends from school. He wasn’t particularly attached to any of them, but Mikey had forced him to invite them. Gerard suspected Mikey did more of the inviting then he did. He wasn’t even sure he knew the names of all of them. Instead of enjoying his birthday party like a normal twelve year old, Gerard was seated on the stairs, hidden just around the bend from the rest of the group. His raging headache was still mounting in his head, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He pressed his fingers onto his temple and rubbed in slow circles. Voices piped up nearby, causing Gerard to look up instinctively. But no one was there. A rather large throb of pain bubbled in his head. He winced and pressed his palms onto the sides of his head. He could hear the voices more clearly now, as if there were no more than five feet away. He peeked around the corner, and down, all the way at the end of the hallway, were his mother and his grandmother. It was clear that they were speaking in whispers, based on their appearance, and their tone of voice resonating in his mind.
“Donna, what if he’s one of them. It’s entirely possible,” his grandmother hissed. Gerard shot back and up a stair as Helena turned to face him.
“Helena it’s not possible. There hasn’t been… one of them… in the family for years. Besides, he hasn’t shown any of the signs,” his mother replied, a nervous tone in her voice. Gerard’s mind was whirling over this. He knew he wasn’t meant to hear any of this. But if that was so, why could he? He didn’t have above average hearing, nor was he ever one for eavesdropping. None of this made sense to him, and the only plausible solution was to continue listening. He leaned forward again and squinted at his two family members. Helena shook her head.
“There’s me. I’m close enough! He could have something! The headaches! That’s something, Donna, and you know it. Be ready to help him take it on if it happens. Mikey too,” his grandmother murmured. His mother looked trapped and fearful. Gerard had never seen her like this before, and it frightened him. He blinked. Once, twice, thrice. The pot of boiling pain in his head was nearly ready to boil over. His whole body felt on fire. He really needed more Advil. He got up and stormed over towards the kitchen, walking right past his mother and grandmother. He rounded the bend into the kitchen. The two were nearly out of normal hearing range, when he heard, clear as day,
“He’s not twelve yet. We’ll see in a couple hours,” his mother whispered hoarsely. And Gerard decided, that was the worst thing he’d heard all day.
Gerard stormed through the house at such a speed, that it was no wonder no one noticed him. He flung himself into the bathroom and locked the door behind himself. He stood there, panting, for a good few minutes before collecting himself. It dawned on him for the second time, that he, in fact, may be a superhero. This would imply that he would, in fact, have to be heroic in some way or another, and Gerard just was not ready for that. It would also mean that he had powers, and aside from the above normal hearing he had just demonstrated, he was one hundred percent sure he didn't have any.
He walked over to the mirror and poked himself in the face. He pulled and prodded him skin every which way, until he was certain nothing was wrong with his face. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe, he thought, if I shut my eyes all of this will go away and it will turn out to be some awful dream. He counted slowly to three and opened his eyes. But no, he was still in the bathroom on his twelfth birthday, he had still overheard that awful conversation moments ago, and he most definitely was still eleven. He pouted in the mirror and reached for the tap. Only, it wasn't there. He looked down and saw, with his very own eyes, two missing taps and a missing spigot that had definitely been there moments ago. He yelped and took a step back, only to bump into the door. He clasped a hand to his mouth and tried desperately to catch his breath. Suddenly, the door behind him he had indeed locked on his way in flung open. He stumbled backwards and into his grandmother’s arms. She scooped him up and dragged him to the empty stairwell. She plopped him down on the stairs, where he pulled his legs close to his chest.
“Gerard are things happening to you that you can't explain?” She asked roughly. He gulped and shook his head, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. This was all too much for him, and he was getting more frightened by every word coming out of her damned mouth.
“Gerard I know you heard what I said to your mother, don't lie to m-” She began, but she was cut off.
“Helena, stop it right now,” his mother shouted, appearing from no where. Helena turned to her to reply, but Gerard was already gone. He got up and bolted down the stairs, and into his room. He locked his door, only now he was sure that meant nothing, and scrambled into his bed. He lay there, shaking under the covers, not sure what to do next. Minutes passed, and he did nothing. He slowly began to breath normally again and unfurled his legs from the tight back he had squished himself into. He wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath. Someone knocked on his door. He jumped at the sound, and curled into a ball once again.
“Gerard? It's me, your mother. Can we talk, please?” She asked quietly. Gerard didn't respond. He stayed perfectly still, holding his breath, and clutching the sheets until his knuckles turned white.
“Gerard may I come in?” She fiddled with the doorknob.
“Gerard please?” She pleaded.
“No!” He shouted from his cocoon in the sheets. She sighed.
“Fine then. We’ll talk from here,” she grumbled, tiredly. Gerard sat up and stared at his door. He waited to see if anything weird would happen. Nothing. He crept out of bed and tip toed towards the door. He stopped when he was no more than a foot away from it.
“I know you heard your grandmother and I’s discussion earlier. I'm sorry you had to hear that,” she said, trying to turn the door knob once again.
“One of what?” Gerard asked.
“Huh?”
“Helena said that Mikey and I might be one of them. One of what?” Gerard repeated firmly.
“Gerard please let me in and I’ll explain everything. Please,” she desperately whined. Gerard scrutinized the door. At long last, he relented. He turned the lock and opened the door. His mother stood there, looking very tired indeed. He pulled her in and slammed the door behind her. He crossed his arms and glared at her.
“One. Of. What?” He growled. Just as she opened her mouth to explain, Mikey wandered in.
“Gerard it’s time for cake. Since its your party after all, I figured you might want to be there for it,” he mumbled, all of the sudden looking very sad. Their mother sank to her knees and put a hand in Gerard’s shoulder.
“I'll tell you everything you want to know… After you eat some cake. It's a win-win deal, right?!” She smiled. He scowled at her.
“Gee, please,” Mikey whispered. Gerard looked up over to Mikey and smiled the fake-est smile he’d ever given. Then he walked over and grabbed his hand.
“Sure Mikes,” he smiled. The two walked out and up the stairs. Donna sat back onto the floor and put her face in her hands. She wasn't ready for this. She doubted she ever would be.
Mikey walked Gerard up the stairs and into the dining room where a cake, complete with candles, had been set up. Gerard had to admit, the cake looked pretty good, but he still got an uneasy feeling. Not to mention his headache that was still roaring in his head. The boiling pot in his head was bubbling ominously. Too much so for comfort. All the guests that had been mysteriously invited smiled and wished him happy birthday as he passed through the small crowd. Mikey have given him a worried look before sitting down in the chair on his right. Mikey was no bystander for anything, especially his brother.
Gerard was placed at the head of the table, where everyone could see him. He recognized a few people from school who he knew. He smiled at them politely and his grandmother reached over to light the candles. She stared him dead in the eyes as she lit the candles, one by one. When she finished she tut tut tutted and leaned back in her chair. Gerard gulped and stared at his cake. It was a plainly frosted honey cake with twelve candles on it. His mother entered the room with a camera. Gerard looked at her for the go ahead. Since he had been born in the afternoon, it was custom to the family for him to blow out his candles at the exact moment he was born. It was a stupid tradition and Gerard had always had a sinking feeling about it. He remember his mothers’ words: “He’s not twelve yet. We’ll see.” He gulped as she checked her watch. The pot boiling in his head was bubbling over. He gasped with pain and rubbed his temple harshly. His mother began the song.
“Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday dear Gerard!
Happy birthday to you!” Everyone sang.
He took a deep breath and the top of the boiling pot blew off.
He blew out his candles, only they didn’t go out. Instead, the fire blew like a blowtorch and reached way beyond anything that could be even remotely considered normal. Gerard stopped blowing when he noticed what was happening. Even without a force moving it, the fire still continued winding its way though the air. It twisted and turned and slowly began to condense. Some of the guests fled the room, others backed to the walls, while a few just stood there completely stoic in fear. The fire collected itself into one giant fireball, hovering above the Way family dining room table. Then, just like that, it exploded into a hundred tiny fireworks. Each single explosion was a different color and pitch. The ashes of the little eruptions floated down from the scorched ceiling and landed on the ground, leaving little pinprick sized holes in the carpet. Gerard gaped at his cake. The candles were now smoking, but the flames were gone. Gerard looked up to where the fireball had just been. There was a rather large scotch mark darkly imprinted on the pastry dough colored ceiling. Behind him, Helena clicked her tongue. She knew better than to doubt Gerard. He always surprised her.
The remainder of the guests raced for their coats and bolted towards the door. In only a matter, of seconds, the house was completely deserted of all guests, apart from Helena, and the rest of the Way’s. Gerard couldn’t think. He couldn’t even begin to react, let alone process what just happened. It seemed like something out of one of his comic books. That’s the only thing he could think of. Then, for a glorious few seconds, there was silence. There was noting to say.
Gerard was stuck, Donna was tired, Helena was reveling in this victory, and Mikey, well Mikey didn’t know what exactly to think. He fell out of his chair. That was all it took for the other Way’s to speed into action. Motherly instincts in overdrive, Helena sped over to Mikey, scooped him up and dragged him to him room. Donna, in the mean time, gently extended a hand for Gerard. He shakily wrapped his small fingers around her veiny tan hand. She helped him down the hallway, and into him room. Gerard complied limply. She sat down on his bed, Gerard following numbly in suit. He deadpanned at the floor. Donna squeezed his hand just enough to draw him back. Gerard snapped his head over to look at her. A cold breeze shook the room. Donna shivered under his icy glare, which was unusual for a sixth grader. Creating a giant floating fireball with breath is also unusual, in his defense. Donna thought.
“Honey…” she began. Gerard looked away and fidgeted, awaiting the lecture he knew he was about to get. His grandmother opened her mouth to speak, but thought for a moment instead. Something she rarely did before speaking. Instead of ranting to him about things she didn’t even know how to explain, she squeezed his hand again, and walked out. Gerard sat all alone in his basement, in the nippy wind he couldn’t explain. There were a lot of things he couldn’t explain.
Gerard launched himself under his covers and buried his face in his quickly dampening pillow. Tears leaked out of his eyes, and he kicked at the air just for the sake of feeling something. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. His jaw snapped shut on its own when someone knocked on his door.
“Go away!” Gerard screamed. When he didn’t hear footsteps patting down the hall, he chucked his extra pillow at the door. It made a thump against the door, and someone yelped from behind it. Gerard instantly recognized the voice, and he felt most of his worries melt away.
“Come in,” he squeaked. Mikey cautiously stepped one foot into the room. Gerard seemed to not be bothered by it, so he took another step. A weak gust of cold air pushed the door the rest of the way shut. Mikey delicately paced into the room, stopping a few feet before the bed.
“Gee?” He inquired. He reached out to move the blanket off of his brothers face, but Gerard swatted his arm away. Mikey receded and slowly sat down on the floor. The pair sat in agitated silence for a few minutes.
“Do you want some cake?” Mikey asked faintly. Gerard choked back the lump in his throat, only to utter,
“No. I don’t want any stupid cake.” He grouched. Mikey nodded and laid down. He stretched his legs out, and his arms above his head, and yawned. He searched for any topic that could lighten the mood, but came up with nothing. He diverted to randomness.
“You want some water?” He asked, looking over at the lump of blankets that was his brother. The lump shook its head. Mikey looked back at the ceiling. He was only nine, but he knew how to take care of his brother better than anyone. Mikey knew eventually he would open up. It just needed to be the right time for him. Gerard stirred in his bed, and peeked his nose out from under the cocoon.
“What’s wrong with me?” Gerard asked, tucking his knees closer into his stomach. Mikey tried his best to stay calm. He shrugged his shoulders, and picked at his nails.
“It’s cold,” Mikey grumped. Gerard wiggled his toes, which Mikey took to be a sign of imminent improvement. He took a leap.
“How’s your headache, Gee?” He looked over at Gerard’s little opening in the blankets. His face hole. Gerard shrugged back.
“It’s better, I guess. I mostly went away. Advil probably started to finally work,” Gerard replied, still not emerging from his bundle of anxiety. Mikey was now all out of cheap conversation starters that wouldn’t do a number on Gerard’s psyche. He knew sitting up would raise alarms, so he stated down and jeep picking at his hang nail. The silence in the room was batter now, by all standards. Mikey had worked his magic on Gee, once again.
“How’d you do that, Gee?” Mikey started calmly, but suddenly the door burst open.
“Mikey!” Donna shrieked. Mikey sat bolt upright and stared at his mother. He pointed angrily to the hall and glared at him.
“Give your brother some space,” she commanded. Mikey leapt to his feet, and kept his head down as he scurried out. Donne shut the door behind him and wiped her brow. She wobbled over to his bed, and pulled Gerard’s desk chair over for herself to sit on. She folded her hands in her lap, and sat there, pristine.
“I’m gonna explain some things to you know. I promised I would after you blew out your candles again,” Gerard started to cry again. Donna looked nervously to her boy, but plunged forward anyway. Her hands began to quiver.
“By ‘One of them’ your grandmother meant… She meant a wizard. Yeah, I know, I’m crazy, but it’s true. Your grandmother had something, and her grandparents had it too. We don’t know what it was. Not really. It faded after a while, but I doubt that’ll happen to you. Your powers seem much stronger than hers ever were. Whatever it is, it skips a generation, you see. But her powers were really dull, so we figured it ought to end with her. Apparently not.” Donna sighed. Gerard momentarily stopped crying to listen, but with the arrival of all this new information, he let the tears fall. He didn’t even bother to remind her that Wizards don’t exist.
“I don’t really think that you’ll believe me, but it’s the truth, Gerard. There’s so much to this world that seems unbelievable, but it’s all true. I’ve heard the stories, Gee. They’re not a bunch of crap. I think now you’re going to have some optimism thanks to that little display, earlier. If you can scorch the ceiling with a floating fireball, I think you can at least try and let me explain more,” Donna tried to explain, miserably. Gerard matched her misery. The two were startled by a frantic knock on the door.
“Come in,” Gerard moaned. Helena opened the door and peeked in. She had tears in her eyes and a melancholy smile on her face. Donna stood briskly and strode over to her. The women whispered to each other for a few seconds, as Gerard emerged sadly. His hair was rumpled and his cheeks were tear stained red. Mikey burst through th crack in between Helena’s legs and the door frame yelling excitedly.
“Gee! Grandma says you’re going to a special wizard school! Gee you’re a wizard!” He yelped. Gerard looked anxiously from his brother to his mom. She turned to face him, eyes glittering brightly. Helena smiled proudly behind her. His mother held out a hand with a tainted yellow envelope sitting on her palm. Gerard looked from an eager Mikey to his nervous mother, and slowly picked himself up out of bed. His bare feet stuck to the floor as he slowly made his way over. His mother held out the letter. He lifted it up, and the wind seemed to slosh around the room uncomfortably. The front of the letter was stamped medievally, with a big red wax seal, and a little ribbon for show. There was a very large crest for something or other, Gerard didn’t quite know. He looked up to his mother for reassurance. She pursed her lips and thought for a moment, still teary eyed, and then nodded to him. He flipped the letter over. Penned neatly in dark blue ink, the letter was addressed to him. It read,
Mr. G Way.
Basement,
69, Salter Place,
Belleville,
New Jersey
And for no real reason, at that moment, Mikey looked over at his brother’s troubled expression and knew. Their lives would never be the same.