A Vein Attempt at Romance

Once upon a time, there was a place called England and a city called London, and the city called London was full of many extraordinary things. One of these things was a creature called a vampire which lurked in the shadows and moved faster than any human and could smell blood from miles away; could sense the warmth of a human body from even farther. It could live for many many years without aging, and it could run and run and run and run without tiring. But most of all, the vampire could bite, and it could drink and it could kill. That was what it was made for.

But this story is not about a vampire who kills; in fact, this story is about a vampire who did not kill their victim. Instead, they let the young man named Gerard turn into one of his own entirely on accident. The vampire who turned him does not matter, not yet. But Gerard - twenty four years old with grand titles and a future that seemed too big for his skinny, pale self - does matter. Quite a lot. And when he stirred in the dirty alleyway in Victorian London's East End, his eyes darkened, and his skin cooled, and his teeth became fangs, and he became something quite extraordinary.

xxx

The Way household was a strange one to be sure.

For starters, Gerard, the head of the house, and his little brother, Michael (aka Mikey), were vampires. Gerard had been turned first, and then, when Mikey had asked, after much hesitation and persuasion, Gerard turned his brother.

They were a strange pair - Gerard with wild hair like a black crown of thorns and gold eyes that shone almost as brightly as his pale skin; and Mikey with glasses worn far down his pointy nose and a permanent expression of aloof apathy on his face. Gerard, in contrast, was quite open and emotional, though often a bit oblivious and scatterbrained. He was always a strange artsy hermit who preferred the company of books and paintings to the company of people. Mikey hadn't always been so stern - ten years before, he'd had a beautiful wife named Alicia – and though she wasn't a vampire, she was extraordinary in her own right. She was nobility, though of lower class than Mikey, but he didn't care. He loved her and married her and three months later she was pregnant. The family was overjoyed, but nine months later, tragedy struck when Alicia had twins unexpectedly - a boy named James was born, and everyone was happy, but then a small second baby named Julia came and Alicia couldn't handle the pain and blood loss. She died shortly after childbirth, and Mikey was sent into a period of deep mourning. He didn't even want to see his children at first.

James was a bouncy boy with messy brown hair and blue eyes like his mother's. He loved to help Gerard splatter paint on canvases and frequently could be found scouring the library for the newest books. He also enjoyed croquet and polo, and had a stocky brown polo pony named Domino that was a gift from his father. He occasionally dabbled in instruments too, like the Spanish guitar.

Julia was quieter and more subdued, with long waves of black hair and hazel eyes that nearly mirrored her father's. She preferred to be outside, helping to tend the garden and riding through the estate's woods on the back of her gray mare Mist. She played piano quite well and was deeply emotional and empathetic. She was somewhat distant from her father because she believed that he blamed her for Alicia's death.

Julia spent most of her time in the gardens and therefore spent most of her time with Raymond (Ray) Toro, the werewolf gardener. He was tall and broad, with a mass of dark curls for hair and kind almond colored eyes. He loved his plants dearly but loved Julia even more, as if she were his own daughter. It made him sad that Julia was so like Mikey, but that Mikey never showed the emotions he had anymore. It was almost like a method to cope with Alicia's passing. Ray swore he would bring the old Mikey back, and wished that someday, Mikey might be as happy and open as he was before. He also hoped that someday, the sadness in Julia's eyes that looked too old for her young face would be replaced by joy.

Ray was close friends with Robert (Bob) Bryar, the head horse groom. Robert was a stocky blonde man with a scruffy beard and deep blue eyes. He looked pretty intimidating, but despite his gruffness and standoffish demeanor, he was a very good man. He was also very good with horses and all animals, and was honored and overjoyed beyond words when Gerard gave him a handsome Cleveland Bay stallion for his own. Bob had stared at the horse and then at Gerard and then nodded furiously and said roughly, "He'll do, milord," which is basically as good as a hug and a kiss when it's coming from Bob Bryar.

Bob was friends with Brian, the brilliant butler of the house. Brian was in charge of all the other servants of the house, and was always smartly dressed with his neat brown hair and carefully tailored suits. Brian had also picked out many of the servants personally, including Jamia, the cook.

Jamia was a girl from Italy with large green eyes and fluffy black hair who had a golden touch when it came to baking. She made the best pies and scones north of the English Channel. She was always patient and willing to see the best in people, and her easy charm enchanted even Bob and Mikey.

And there was a very important household member who has not been added quite yet, but will find his way to the Way Manor doorstep, as they all do.

xxx

Gerard had just finished his newest painting, and was adding the final brush strokes (in midnight blue oils) when he smelled it.

He paused for a moment, because surely his senses deceived him, but there was nobody who could deceive a vampire. Sharp and metallic and unmistakable, he smelled blood - and lots of it. His pupils dilated with panic and hunger, but he quickly pushed the latter of the two away - he'd already fed a few hours ago and could wait awhile. Still...something was wrong. The blood was close by, perhaps in the estate's woods? Gerard wasn't sure, but whatever it was, he knew it couldn't be good :/ so he put his riding cloak on and rode his horse Athena out into the woods, his nostrils flaring and his neck prickling as he got closer.
There were more scents - fear, thick and heavy, and pain, stabbing and overpowering. And there was adrenaline, making the blood pump faster, making the boy - for he knew it was definitely a boy - bleed more. Gerard bit his lip and urged the horse faster, until he got to a clearing and couldn't help the gasp that issued from his throat. Because...damn. That was a LOT of blood, and a lot of agony :c

The boy was lying on the ground face up, scarlet pooling all around him from the gashes in his stomach and chest. His skin was pale and Gerard would have thought him to be dead if he could not see his pulse thudding in the moonlight, or hear the weak thunder of his heart. Gerard could smell something else under the blood, something faintly familiar, but it made him uneasy. What he could discern was this - another human had inflicted the wounds and this human had fled and presumably collapsed here.

Gerard steeled himself, dismounted, and carefully came closer. The boy was not as young as he had thought, for he had the sharp jawline of a man and faint shadows of stubble. His frame was still very slight, though, and when Gerard gently picked him up, he was light and small. God, there was so much blood. Gerard was glad it was him who had found the boy and not Mikey or another vampire, because he'd always been much better at controlling his bloodlust than the others. He wasn't sure why, but even with his arms and hands soaked in it, he didn't feel the overwhelming need to bite or kill. Of course the need was still there - it always was - but he could ignore it.

Besides, the more urgent thing was getting the boy to Ray, who doubled as a gardener and a doctor. He didn't bother getting on the horse, just cradled the boy in his arms and ran as fast as he could (which was pretty dang fast) to the manor, using his jacket to staunch some of the blood.

He woke Ray up and the two of them got the unconscious boy into the nearest parlor and onto the table there. They got the boy's shirt off and both winced at the huge wounds - a neat horizontal cut across his gut and two vertical cuts on either side of his chest. Ray gulped and said, "Gerard, this reminds me of those Jack the Ripper murders everyone is talking about. It looks very...surgical."

Gerard swallowed and rocked back on his heels. "But all those victims were women, and they were all missing their...female organs. Is the boy missing organs?"

Ray shook his head. "I don't think so, no. The cuts would have to be deeper for that and there would be even more blood, and I think he managed to get away before that happened. If that was indeed the case." Ray paused. "You can leave now, sir, I'll take care of this. There's some blood in the pantry if you need it."

Gerard thanked him but shook his head. "I'll pass. I'm not feeling very hungry tonight." He cast a last glance at the motionless boy who was barely breathing and felt a strange flash of protectiveness towards him. "Please take care of him. I'm trusting you to save his life."

Ray looked up from where he was rummaging through his medicine bag and smiled. "I think you already did that, sir."

xxx

The next morning, Gerard practically ran out of bed and followed the lingering scent of the boy and Ray, ending up in a spare bedroom. Ray was sitting in a chair beside the bed, changing the bandages, and looked up with a grin when Gerard walked in.
"Hello, sir! It seems your boy is a pretty tough cookie - he made it through the night and is already showing signs of waking up. I stitched everything up nicely and washed all the blood off. He cleans up nicely, doesn't he, sir?"

Gerard nodded silently. That was one way of putting it...the boy was beautiful. He was sleeping now, head lolling on the pillow and spilling tendrils of dark hair across the white cotton. His chest was bandaged carefully and Gerard could still smell the blood, but faintly, like an aftertaste. His heartbeat was much stronger, too.

"I wonder who he is, sir," Ray wondered. "Lowborn, I think, from his clothes...but young. Very young. Maybe the same age as you, sir."

Gerard turned away ruefully. "I'm not twenty four anymore, Ray. I haven't been twenty four for a decade."
Ray patted Gerard's hand. "I know, sir, I know. You haven't aged a day, though." He winked and nodded at him before leaving the room.

Gerard sighed. It was true - there was not a single added wrinkle on his face, nor a gray hair amongst the black. But he felt much older than twenty four, and sometimes he wished that he aged, so he wouldn't have to go on living while everyone around him died slowly. At least he had Mikey.

A low groan startled him and he stared with wide, almost frightened eyes at the stirring boy. "Oh, God," the boy groaned, eyes opening slowly. They were a brilliant green. He saw Gerard and they widened in confusion. "Who are you? Am I...am I dead?"

"No, no, you're very much alive," Gerard assured him. "Although you were quite close to death, I think, when I found you."

The boy gaped at him, and then looked down at his bandages and gaped some more. "Um....u-um, sir... you are a sir, aren't you?"

Gerard inclined his head. "Er...a Lord, technically, but yes."

He struggled to sit up but Gerard eased him back down. The boy stared at him with obvious fear. "I...I shouldn't be here, intruding, I'm sorry. I'm from East End, on the docks and I just....there was a man, with a mask and a hood and a cloak and a big knife, and I saw him...cutting up a woman. And I was stupid and tried to stop him and he cut me, too. But I was faster and I ran...and I ran...and I don't remember what happened after that."

Gerard shushed him gently. "Hush, it's alright now. I was out riding and found you in the woods on my estate. There was...quite a lot of blood. But my friend Ray patched you up. Please don't worry about intruding - it sounds as though you've been through a lot. My home is your home."

The boy's eyes were filling with tears which he hastily wiped away, sniffing. "I...that's awfully kind of you, sir. Nobody's ever...nobody's ever done something like that for me." He peered at Gerard a little nervously. "If I had money, I would pay you, but you must believe me, I'm just a dock brat and I have nothing-"

Gerard shook his head. "I don't want your money, it's alright. But...if I could at least know your name?"

The boy blinked. "Oh! Oh, sorry. My name is Franklin Iero. But um, nobody calls me that. Just Frank."

"Frank," Gerard said softly. "Hm."

"If it would not be too bold of me to ask, sir...what is your name?"

"Lord Gerard Arthur Way, at your service." Gerard mock bowed and Frank made a soft squeaking noise.

"THE Gerard Way?! The young millionaire who paints masterpieces?!"

Gerard flushed. "Um...yes? The one and only."

"Are you sure I'm not dead?" Frank asked breathlessly.

"Well, I was rather hoping you weren't... That was kind of the point of all this." Gerard managed a nervous laugh.

Frank laughed nervously back. He still looked faintly terrified.

"Er...are you hungry? I can have the servants bring up some breakfast...maybe just some scones or bread if your stomach hurts too much?"

Frank nodded furiously and then hesitated. "Uh...if you're sure that's alright..."

"Of course."

"Then yes, please."

Gerard smiled and turned to go but was stopped.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Of course, Frank."

Gerard, for once, forgot about the hunger and was filled with a strange warm feeling instead.

xxx

The rest of the household quickly warmed up to Frank as he stayed there to heal. Mikey paid him a visit along with James and Julia the second day Frank was there, and Frank enchanted them all with his nervous humor and endless gratitude. Ray came, too, and Frank complimented him on his stitching job. Brian and Bob came the following day with polite welcomes and Jamia brought Frank all the pastries he could ever want. Gerard came every day, and sometimes Frank was asleep, but he would watch him for a few moments, and wonder how so much versatility could belong to such a fragile looking human. Though, when he really looked, Frank was not so fragile after all. His skin was tanner than Gerard had thought, his shoulders broader, his chest more lean and muscled. Frank certainly was a dock brat - Gerard even thought he could see a few dark outlines of tattoos under the sheer sheets, but he couldn't be sure. He wondered where Frank was from initially - Italy, perhaps? Or Spain? Or even France? Somewhere open and free, he thought. It felt wrong to keep Frank locked up in this room, like caging a particularly magnificent and intelligent bird.

But he never stayed there long when Frank was asleep. He felt really creepy doing it, and if he stayed too long, he focused too much on the sound of Frank's pulse, and wondered too much about what Frank might have tasted like if he'd snuck a taste the night he found him.

And then Gerard just feels like a monster.

xxx

Two weeks later, Ray took the stitches out. Gerard could hardly bear to hear Frank's pained cries as he did it, and even with the laudanum to numb it, Frank said it hurt like hell. He was still grateful, of course, and the cuts were healing very well. When Gerard went in to visit him afterwards, Frank was propped up on the pillows, staring out the window with a look of longing on his face. James and Julia were playing tag in the garden, giggling and shrieking as they skirted the vibrant peonies and pansies and marigolds and chrysanthemums. Frank's chest was still bare, the cuts a deep pink. They were definitely going to scar, but they looked much better than before. Frank looked much better, too.

"Do you miss being outside?" Gerard asked, and Frank jumped. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Christ, you're always so silent!" Frank exclaimed. "And yes, I...I miss the outdoors. The ocean especially. But I suppose my ship must've left by now."

"You have a ship?" Gerard blurted.

Frank chuckled. "Oh, I wish I did. No, I was just with her for a long time. The Dawn Treader and I...we go way back. She was the ship I stowed away on when I ran away from Sicily."

Gerard raised an eyebrow and tried not to look too pleased. He was right - Frank was an Italian. "Sicily? Why did you run away? I've heard it's quite nice there."

Frank sighed. "It is. I just...no matter how beautiful the country is, it's not easy growing up a bastard son."

Gerard's mouth opened in understanding. "Ah. I see. Was your father...cruel to you?"

Frank shook his head. "Not exactly. He ignored me, more often than not. I was always the smallest and the weakest and the sickliest...always the sickliest." He laughed bitterly. "I think he was ashamed of both himself and of me. He had five other sons and I knew they wouldn't miss me...and I never knew my mother, whoever she was. So I left when I was fifteen. Best decision I ever made."

Gerard nodded thoughtfully. "How old are you now, then?"

"I turn twenty five on All Hallow's Eve. What about you, sir?"

Gerard hesitated. "Thirty next April." Close enough.

"Really? You look much younger."

Gerard stiffened. "So I've been told," he said tightly.

Frank eyed him curiously. "I hope that wasn't out of line, sir."

"Hm? Oh, no. Not at all. Sorry."

"Then would it be out of line if I asked if you, ah...were interested in any wealthy ladies? I'm surprised you haven't married already." Frank's tone was curious, but his eyes looked a little...uncertain. Gerard's stomach flipped. Careful, he thought.

"Ah...well, my parents, before they passed a few years ago, were adamant that I at least consider marrying Lady Lindsey Ballato." Gerard chewed his lip.

"And? Have you considered it?"

Gerard shrugged. "Well, I suppose. She is quite beautiful...we meet for tea almost every Sunday. I suppose we've grown...fond of each other."

Frank looked down. "I wish you both happy futures, then. With many children too, I hope."

Gerard choked on air. "CHILDREN?" he paused and cleared his throat. "I mean, ah...I think of James and Julia as if they were my own children...I never really thought of having actual children of my own."

Frank looked very interested now. "Really? Huh. I would have to agree a bit...I've always preferred puppies to children."

Gerard honked out a laugh. "I can believe that."

Frank laughed softly too and then was quiet. Then, "I know you said you didn't want my money. And I have none to give. But I really do feel that I owe you - don't argue, most people wouldn't have done what you did. And I want to repay you."

"Frank-"

Frank swallowed. "Sir, do you have a valet?"

Gerard was taken aback by that question. "Umm...no?"

Frank grinned. "I knew it! Your collar is always inside out and your shirttails are always untucked. So if you'll have me, I'd like to be your valet. You don't have to pay me, I just-"

"I'd pay you! I mean...if you're sure...we'd all love to have you stay, Frank. Everyone here quite likes you." Gerard smiled. Frank smiled back.

"So... I'll stay, then."

"I suppose you will."