"Okay, then invite him to hang out with us. You don't need my permission to be friends with someone, Patrick." Mikey said, distractedly doodling on the side of his book.

"But I don't think Frank likes him." Patrick said on the other line.

Mikey pulled the phone closer to his ear. "What do you mean?"

"He was really quiet. From the time that I've known him, he's never quiet."

Mikey snorted, "Frank gets shy when he's around someone he doesn't know on a first name basis. He doesn't like to scare strangers cause last time he did, the cops got called on him."

Patrick was silent for a moment, trying to think of the right response to what he was just told. "R-Really? Why wasn't he shy when he met me? He nearly murdered me when we met."

Mikey shrugged to himself, "I don't know. Frank is special and we love the way he is."

"Yeah, sure," Patrick laughed. "Anyways, how are you doing? Did you go home and sleep?"

"Yeah," Mikey yawned. "Still a little tired I guess. I finished some of the work for history and I gave up on math a while ago."

"Alright I'll help you with that later. Just stay healthy and come back to school tomorrow."

"Ugh, fine." Mikey said sarcastically, laughing quietly. "I'm gonna go, talk later."

"Okay, bye!"

"Bye."

Mikey sat in his room, looking around for something to do but nothing sprung to mind. He closed his eyes and just sat there. He could hear the fan on his ceiling make 'tik' repeatedly with every spin. A car drove past on the street, the tires moving against the asphalt in 'vrum' kind of sound. He could hear the microwave timer downstairs in the kitchen going off, making a very loud 'beep beep beep' sound. Suddenly a very faint 'buh buh bum' sound.

Mikey opened his eyes and his room was dark. He then again, heard the 'buh buh bum'. There was another 'vrum', the 'tik' once again. 'beep' 'buh buh bum' 'beep' 'tik' 'buh buh bum' 'vrum' 'tik' Mikey grabbed his pillow and pressed hit over his ears, trying to block out the now overwhelming noises. It helped a little but now he could only hear the 'buh buh bum'.

"Hey Mikey, mom wanted me to ask if you wanted Advil and— oh." Gerard walked in to see his little brother curled up on his bed with pillows over his head. He thought for a quick moment and made a decision. He went over to Mikey and started to rub his back softly, he picked up a pillow and whispered, "It's quiet in my room, you can sleep in there if you want." All the communication he got was a slight nod, that was enough for Gerard to help him up and get him into his room.

Gerard was sure that Mikey would feel better in his room. A while ago he put soundproof foam on his walls to silence any thing that became too much for him.

He looked down at his brother who was now laying on his bed, not sleeping, but just sitting there. "Why do you have those foam things?" He asked.

"Blocks out outside noise." He mumbled from where he sat at his desk. He knew Mikey would hear him anyway.

Mikey looked at him, his eyes bored into him. "I think I'm sick." He stated. Gerard could tell that he wanted to say more but something held him back.

"That's a valid assumption." Gerard commented, not looking up from his phone.

Mikey sighed loudly. He got up from the bed and walked over to his brother. Gerard turned his phone screen away in instinct. Mikey frowned, he grabbed Gerards wrist softly and stood there thinking. "Do you have a pulse?" Mikey asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Gerard asked, completely off guard.

"I can hear my heartbeat inside of me. I could hear subtle things outside and as I got close to you and felt your pulse I can't find a heartbeat."

Gerard looked around his room as if the answer was worth looking for. "Woah, that's pretty wack, bro." He internally smacked himself for saying that. How was he supposed to tell Mikey about what was happening to him? He himself isn't even good at comforting people with normal problems.

"Gerard," Mikey said, "you don't have a pulse. Why don't you have a pulse?"

Gerard stood up and backed away from his brother. "Mikey, I'm sensitive. Maybe I don't like talking about it, okay?"

Mikey threw his hands in the air. "How can you be sensitive over that? Not having a pulse is basically not having a heart! Do you take drugs or something—"

"Mikey, I swear—"

"Wait," Mikey shut him up. He looked around his brother's room and suddenly focused back on Gerard. "You know what's happening. That's why you have soundproof foam. Am I going to not have a pulse as well? Wait hold on—"

Gerard grabbed his younger brother's shoulders. Eyes glowing a slight red, "You're tired and exhausted, you're not thinking right. Go to sleep." He whispered.

Mikey tilted his head confused at what Gerard was doing but suddenly his body became limp in his brothers arms. Gerard sighed in relief, ready to have a serious talk with his parents later.

***

"I hate school!" Pete fell face first onto his bed. "I hate it. I give up on school. I give up on life. I give up on— Wait nevermind." Pete stopped mid rant.

No one was home except for him but he just remembered the book that his teacher had given him. It was under his bed, wrapped in his uniform. He pulled it out and trailed his finger over the leather worn cover. The headmistress said he wasn't allowed to study magic outside of the school, but it's okay to break a rule once in a while.

He opened the book straight to the table of contents, frowning because everything was in Latin. The subjects were something that Pete had never studied at the school. He flipped through it and noticed a constant theme. This book had the key to break curses.

"Oh my god!" Pete laughed out loud in joy. He immediately ran to his computer and opened google translate. He typed quickly and frowned. Why was google so bad at Latin?

"Pete, you home?" Pete heard later during the night.

"Yeah, I'll come down soon!" He yelled back, silently hoping no one would come into his room and see the effects of him and the book alone for three hours.

Latin was one of the few things that didn't come easy to Pete. So when he started going through the book, he learned very quickly not to recite the spells. The frog croaking beside him was a clear sign that nothing had worked, along with his history assignment that was now on fire.

He sat in his room thinking that normal school sucked compared to his last school.

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