Woke up this morning
Title: Woke up this morning
Author: alles_luege
Pairing: none, gen
Rating: PG -13
Summary: That one day Gerard wakes up eighteen again. Frank is not on board with slaughtering a goat and Bob saves the day.
“Right…unresolved sexual tension?” Frank tries again. And okay, maybe Gerard should give him points for trying or something, but he is not in the mood. Not at all.
Warning(s): none
Author’s Notes: Was originally a drabble.
Word Count: 1.140
Beta: tygermine
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
“This shit happens to Fall Out Boy or Panic!” Gerard says. He is so pissed off right now, it's not even funny.
“What?” Frank asks and he tries not to laugh. Rat bastard, Gerard thinks. He should ask again for Gerard's last cigarette, and see if Gerard takes pity on him and shares. He swears this on his grandmother's grave...on second thought, maybe he shouldn't drag Elena into this. She was a good woman. Anyway, no last cigarette sharing with Frank anymore. He nods for emphasis. Frank gives him a look, he can see it out of the corner of his eyes.
“Vampires, doppelgangers, parallel universes, past selves, people turning into puppies,” Gerard clarifies waving his hand - cigarette between his fingers.
“What?” Frank asks. He doesn’t seem to be getting why Gerard is so upset and flailing all over the place.
“We, our band,” Gerard stresses the word band, “have normal problems. Drugs, alcohol, sex with groupies, stress with ex-drummers…unresolved sexual tension.” He trails off there, not catching Frank’s eye, but turning a dark shade of pink.
“Wait? When did you have sex with groupies?” Frank asks.
Trust Frank to ask the fucking unimportant questions. Seriously. Where the hell is Mikey when Gerard needs him the most?
He tries not to think it’s where Pete and Alicia are, cause that train of thought leads to madness and there is enough madness happening right now.
“That’s not the fucking point!” He says, a bit annoyed with his guitarist at this point.
“Right…unresolved sexual tension?” Frank tries again. And okay, maybe Gerard should give him points for trying or something, but he is not in the mood. Not at all.
“I’m fucking eighteen!” Gerard says staring at himself in the mirror in shock and disgust. The kind of self loathing that comes with being him.
“Right…” Frank says. And then looks closer at Gerard, hooking his chin over his friend’s shoulder to look into the mirror too. “You do look different.”
“That's because I'm eighteen... I can't even drink legally,” Gerard muses out loud and Frank gives him a look. “Not that I want that, I mean I'm a fucking kid, what the hell are we going to do?”
“I have no idea...” Frank says and Gerard figured as much himself.
~+~
“Did you gain weight?” Ray asks and Gerard gives him a fucking death glare, because what the hell is wrong with his band?! He doesn't want to hear that so early in the fucking morning. He needs another cigarette, he clutches his mug of beloved coffee - coffee never betrayed him and it was never mean in the morning - in one hand and fishes out his pack of cigarettes with the other. He ignores Frank's looks. He doesn't share.
“I did not!” He says after he took the first drag.
“You sure look like you...” Ray begins.
“You're telling me I'm fat?” Gerard asks sharply. He is so not ready to face this shit alone and he doesn't want to talk about his weight, because yeah, he fucking did gain weight! Because he is eighteen again. For fuck's sake.
“Of course not,” Ray says, sitting down across from Gerard and then he takes a mental step back. Gerard can see it on his face.
“Holy shit!” Ray lets out a low whistle.
“Yeah,” Frank agrees and Gerard nods miserably.
~+~
“Oh, coffee,” Mikey says upon entering the kitchen and Gerard passes the cup over to his brother.
“Good.” Mikey takes a sip. “Dude, how come you are eighteen?” Mikey asks, making grabby hands at Gerard's cigarette, which he passes along.
“That's why he is my brother.” Gerard says.
“I thought because you were born by the same mother.” Frank throws in and both Ways give him a glare.
“I don't know. Woke up like this this morning. No fucking clue.”
“This shit usually only happens to FOB or you know...”
“Panic.” Gerard finishes, taking another gulp of someone's coffee.
“Yeah...”
“We could,” Frank starts.
“We are not asking Panic at the fucking disco for advice!” Gerard says sharply.
“Right, where is Bob?” Ray asks. Of course Gerard thinks, of course, Bob is magical he can fix this or figure out how to fix it.
“No idea, he was out with this Goth-chick yesterday. What's her name?” Mikey asks, passing the cigarette over to Gerard again, “You know the one with the red hair?”
“He scored Emilie?” Frank asks in disbelief.
“Seems so,” Mikey answers shrugging. Some of his coffee sloshes onto the table. Gerard runs his finger through it.
“Gross,” Frank says. Gerard doesn't care. Coffee feels comforting and besides he is eighteen again.
“Someone please call Bob. He needs to fix this.” Ray says, Mikey takes out his phone and sloshes some more coffee on the table in the process. Gerard takes another nervous drag of his cigarette and waits for it to connect.
“Bob? Where are you? Oh. Okay.” Mikey says and Gerard looks up. “He is outside the door. Someone changed the fucking code again.” He glares at Frank and Frank looks sheepish.
He doesn't say he thought it was funny, they all know it anyway. Ray gets up to let Bob in and a few seconds late Bob is standing in the small kitchen as well.
“So, you are eighteen again...” He says, when Bob says it, it doesn't sound like some freak accident anymore. The Bob magic is already working, Gerard thinks.
“Seems so. Any brilliant ideas how to fix it?” Gerard asks hopefully.
“You know, you can slaughter a goat, I mean sacrifice, with a silver knife and then bury the knife on a crossroad...”
“Urgh! We can't do that!” Frank says.
“Where the hell could we get a goat from?” Ray muses.
“I could ask Dirty...” Mikey offers, Frank looks a bit green around the edges.
“Brian!” Mikey and Gerard say in unison and smile at each other.
“Funny how willing you are to sacrifice a goat...” Bob says.
“Is there another way?” Gerard asks suspiciously.
“Well, usually this kind of thing has a lifecycle of 24 hours. Go to sleep and by tomorrow, you’ll be 32 again.” Bob answers.
“Seriously?” Gerard is flabbergasted. “So, no goats?”
“You should have called me first.” Bob says.
“Frank was there when I woke up like this.”
“You should have called.” Bob repeats.
“Hey!” Frank says, but he is ignored.
Yeah, Gerard thinks, he really should have. Because Bob makes the world a better place.
~end~
Author: alles_luege
Pairing: none, gen
Rating: PG -13
Summary: That one day Gerard wakes up eighteen again. Frank is not on board with slaughtering a goat and Bob saves the day.
“Right…unresolved sexual tension?” Frank tries again. And okay, maybe Gerard should give him points for trying or something, but he is not in the mood. Not at all.
Warning(s): none
Author’s Notes: Was originally a drabble.
Word Count: 1.140
Beta: tygermine
Disclaimer: Don’t know, don’t own, not real.
“This shit happens to Fall Out Boy or Panic!” Gerard says. He is so pissed off right now, it's not even funny.
“What?” Frank asks and he tries not to laugh. Rat bastard, Gerard thinks. He should ask again for Gerard's last cigarette, and see if Gerard takes pity on him and shares. He swears this on his grandmother's grave...on second thought, maybe he shouldn't drag Elena into this. She was a good woman. Anyway, no last cigarette sharing with Frank anymore. He nods for emphasis. Frank gives him a look, he can see it out of the corner of his eyes.
“Vampires, doppelgangers, parallel universes, past selves, people turning into puppies,” Gerard clarifies waving his hand - cigarette between his fingers.
“What?” Frank asks. He doesn’t seem to be getting why Gerard is so upset and flailing all over the place.
“We, our band,” Gerard stresses the word band, “have normal problems. Drugs, alcohol, sex with groupies, stress with ex-drummers…unresolved sexual tension.” He trails off there, not catching Frank’s eye, but turning a dark shade of pink.
“Wait? When did you have sex with groupies?” Frank asks.
Trust Frank to ask the fucking unimportant questions. Seriously. Where the hell is Mikey when Gerard needs him the most?
He tries not to think it’s where Pete and Alicia are, cause that train of thought leads to madness and there is enough madness happening right now.
“That’s not the fucking point!” He says, a bit annoyed with his guitarist at this point.
“Right…unresolved sexual tension?” Frank tries again. And okay, maybe Gerard should give him points for trying or something, but he is not in the mood. Not at all.
“I’m fucking eighteen!” Gerard says staring at himself in the mirror in shock and disgust. The kind of self loathing that comes with being him.
“Right…” Frank says. And then looks closer at Gerard, hooking his chin over his friend’s shoulder to look into the mirror too. “You do look different.”
“That's because I'm eighteen... I can't even drink legally,” Gerard muses out loud and Frank gives him a look. “Not that I want that, I mean I'm a fucking kid, what the hell are we going to do?”
“I have no idea...” Frank says and Gerard figured as much himself.
~+~
“Did you gain weight?” Ray asks and Gerard gives him a fucking death glare, because what the hell is wrong with his band?! He doesn't want to hear that so early in the fucking morning. He needs another cigarette, he clutches his mug of beloved coffee - coffee never betrayed him and it was never mean in the morning - in one hand and fishes out his pack of cigarettes with the other. He ignores Frank's looks. He doesn't share.
“I did not!” He says after he took the first drag.
“You sure look like you...” Ray begins.
“You're telling me I'm fat?” Gerard asks sharply. He is so not ready to face this shit alone and he doesn't want to talk about his weight, because yeah, he fucking did gain weight! Because he is eighteen again. For fuck's sake.
“Of course not,” Ray says, sitting down across from Gerard and then he takes a mental step back. Gerard can see it on his face.
“Holy shit!” Ray lets out a low whistle.
“Yeah,” Frank agrees and Gerard nods miserably.
~+~
“Oh, coffee,” Mikey says upon entering the kitchen and Gerard passes the cup over to his brother.
“Good.” Mikey takes a sip. “Dude, how come you are eighteen?” Mikey asks, making grabby hands at Gerard's cigarette, which he passes along.
“That's why he is my brother.” Gerard says.
“I thought because you were born by the same mother.” Frank throws in and both Ways give him a glare.
“I don't know. Woke up like this this morning. No fucking clue.”
“This shit usually only happens to FOB or you know...”
“Panic.” Gerard finishes, taking another gulp of someone's coffee.
“Yeah...”
“We could,” Frank starts.
“We are not asking Panic at the fucking disco for advice!” Gerard says sharply.
“Right, where is Bob?” Ray asks. Of course Gerard thinks, of course, Bob is magical he can fix this or figure out how to fix it.
“No idea, he was out with this Goth-chick yesterday. What's her name?” Mikey asks, passing the cigarette over to Gerard again, “You know the one with the red hair?”
“He scored Emilie?” Frank asks in disbelief.
“Seems so,” Mikey answers shrugging. Some of his coffee sloshes onto the table. Gerard runs his finger through it.
“Gross,” Frank says. Gerard doesn't care. Coffee feels comforting and besides he is eighteen again.
“Someone please call Bob. He needs to fix this.” Ray says, Mikey takes out his phone and sloshes some more coffee on the table in the process. Gerard takes another nervous drag of his cigarette and waits for it to connect.
“Bob? Where are you? Oh. Okay.” Mikey says and Gerard looks up. “He is outside the door. Someone changed the fucking code again.” He glares at Frank and Frank looks sheepish.
He doesn't say he thought it was funny, they all know it anyway. Ray gets up to let Bob in and a few seconds late Bob is standing in the small kitchen as well.
“So, you are eighteen again...” He says, when Bob says it, it doesn't sound like some freak accident anymore. The Bob magic is already working, Gerard thinks.
“Seems so. Any brilliant ideas how to fix it?” Gerard asks hopefully.
“You know, you can slaughter a goat, I mean sacrifice, with a silver knife and then bury the knife on a crossroad...”
“Urgh! We can't do that!” Frank says.
“Where the hell could we get a goat from?” Ray muses.
“I could ask Dirty...” Mikey offers, Frank looks a bit green around the edges.
“Brian!” Mikey and Gerard say in unison and smile at each other.
“Funny how willing you are to sacrifice a goat...” Bob says.
“Is there another way?” Gerard asks suspiciously.
“Well, usually this kind of thing has a lifecycle of 24 hours. Go to sleep and by tomorrow, you’ll be 32 again.” Bob answers.
“Seriously?” Gerard is flabbergasted. “So, no goats?”
“You should have called me first.” Bob says.
“Frank was there when I woke up like this.”
“You should have called.” Bob repeats.
“Hey!” Frank says, but he is ignored.
Yeah, Gerard thinks, he really should have. Because Bob makes the world a better place.
~end~