Become What You Know

The Brothers Way Cafe didn't look particularly special from the outside. It was painted the dullest gray color afforded on the market. In the window hung a chalkboard sign with a drawing of a latte and biscotti. It was low key and boring. Tarra stared at it a moment, her shoulder touching the very tip of Frank's left wing. It was tucked under the leather jacket and you almost couldn't tell unless you were actually looking.

Inside the cafe music played softly; a rough mix of the Misfits, Smashing Pumpkins and the Pixies. Tarra might have totally been in love, if it weren't for the feeling she had in the back of her head. It was the same feeling she had when she'd first met Frank. The walls were decorated in scenes from horror movies and comic books. There was an upstairs filled with shelves of books and comics. It smelled of chocolate and vanilla and caffeine.

There was one waitress, a girl with long dark hair that hung in her eyes. She wore an Iron Maiden shirt under a green apron and she avoided eye contact at all costs. She passed the two, the empty glasses from a table in hand. She knocked into Tarra accidentally and when she stumbled and looked up her eyes widened for a moment, and she curled in on herself. They held each others eyes, not moving until the guy at the counter made a noise in his throat. She moved away and into the kitchen quickly after that. The feeling in the back of Tarra's head was trying to claw it's way out, leaving Tarra with a headache. Tarra was starting to feel paranoid. Not everyone they were going to meet was going to have some sort of super ability.
At the counter a skinny guy with blonde hair and glasses rang up two large cappuccinos and a brownie. He flicked his hands at the customer disinterestedly, a lame sort of goodbye and turned to them.

"Welcome to The Brothers Way Cafe," he said, monotone perfected, "I'm Mikey Way. How can I help you?"

Frank stepped forward, his lips pursed and his shoulders hunched in his too large trench coat, "I have a-big-problem," he said, "And I heard that you guys could help me. Maybe?"

Mikey leaned forward, lips pursed in mimic of Frank's, "What sort of problem?"

"The kind that's private?" Frank asked, shrugged and winced at the pain in his wing buds.

"Hey Toro," Mikey shouted, "Take over the register!" He pointed to the door with “Employees Only” sign on the door and Frank and Tarra walked through it quickly, as a tall Puerto Rican guy with a fro appeared from the kitchen, flour on his nose.

They followed the hallway all the way back to a break room with a couch and a few chairs, "Okay, lets see your problem."

Frank slid the coat to the floor. His wings snapped open, instantly, almost as if they'd been waiting to be free. From tip to tip they spanned seven feet. They clipped Tarra in the shoulder as they unfolded and she frowned at Frank rubbing at the sore appendage.

"Sorry," Frank muttered. Mikey stared. Hard.

Then he began laughing and wouldn't stop.

"Fuck you man," Frank said, but it was more tired than angry, "I need to find out how to get rid of them."

"I guess we could cut them off," Mikey monotoned, pressing a thumb to a wing bud. The wing snapped back at him irritably, sending Mikey stumbling back.

"Sorry," Frank said with a grin, "They're still a little tender. I need to find my father. He'd know if there was a way to make them go away."

"So, call your father," Mikey said, like it was the most obvious thing.

"See, that's the thing," Frank started.

"Oh god," Mikey said, "Its never good when someone starts with that's the thing, and wants my help."

"But I don't know who my father is," Frank continued, ignoring him, "All I know is that he has wings. And may be an angel. Or part angel."

"I'll see what I can do," Mikey said, "I need to go check with Gerard. He might be able to help you."

"Gerard?"

"My brother,” Mikey waved a hand idly.

"Frank, this is really starting to get weird," Tarra muttered from his side.

Mikey turned his gaze to her, "You haven't seen anything yet, Little Discerner."

"What?" Tarra asked, frowning.

"Your angel friend didn't tell you? That’s actually kinda funny. He makes you feel weird, right? And he probably felt compelled to find you. Sometimes our angelic friends have the ability to jump start powers that have been dormant through families for generations. It comes with being a tool of God."

Tarra turned an accusing look on Frank and he shrugged, "Oh come on Tarra, its not like I'd know that."

"You suspected, didn't you?"

"I--well, yes, maybe. I didn't think it was coincidence that I met the only person who didn't turn me into the government as an alien or something. I mean. You know as much as I do, I swear."

"Don't worry," Mikey assured her, "You'll get used to being different."

"Wait,” Tarra said, wide-eyed, “How did you know-?”

"The waitress recognized your power. I can do something else. But be careful in front of the customers, most are normal. Let me go talk to Gerard. I'll back in a minute."
__________________

Being on your own at seventeen is never really all that pleasant; no one is ready to be an adult that young. But being seventeen, scared and having abilities that get steadily harder to control when you're around too many people is near impossible. Celeste's been too many places to count since the night she ran terrified from her home.
Her stepfather wasn't always the most pleasant person to be around, and when he hit her for the first time since the marriage to her mother, that's when she realized what she could do. He'd withered away, eyes shrunk back into his head, mouth open in a scream.

The hospital admitted him with what appeared to be severe dehydration. But Celeste knew that she done it. That she'd some how stolen what was inside him. Her skin was glowing, phosphoresant in the pale light of the hospital wing. Her mother was staring at her accusingly, and she shrunk into herself as far as she could. She hid in that place reserved for sitting alone at lunch during school. Later there was screaming; and crying on her part. Her mom tossed her a wad of bills and told her to get the fuck out. She got.

The first time Celeste steps inside The Brothers Way Cafe she feels her skin prickle. It's the same feeling she gets when she's around others like her. It settles in her stomach and she thinks, Oh. Looks around. She orders a caramel macchiato from the guy with glasses at the counter and pointedly doesn't say anything when her total rings up before he actually touches the cash register. It’s almost unsettling how safe the place feels in the back of her mind.

Three weeks in one place and she’d been to the café every day. She realizes that the guy who works the counter is one of the Way brothers, Mikey. There's also a tall guy who works in the back. His name is Ray, but Mikey mostly barks at him, calling him by his last name. Toro is in charge of all the baked goods. Celeste will readily admit that he makes the best brownies she's ever tasted. Its ten minutes until closing and rain is coming down hard. She's trying to put off going into the cold, back to the small motel room she didn't really have the money to pay for. Sometimes, Celeste has found, you have to do things you aren't comfortable with just to survive. Some days she wonders if her mind will die before her body.

The door to the Employees Only section opens and out walks a man with dark hair. There are bags around his eyes, and Celeste feels as if she's been punched in the gut at the power this guy has. He stops suddenly, having just realized that not all the customers were gone yet. Turns his gaze to her, head cocked as if listening to someone speak. She licks her lips; if she listens closely enough she can hear the voices. She closes her eyes tight; pushing away that part of him she had unconsciously been stealing. It’s a small battle in her mind; she’s not very good at controlling her power yet.

"Can I stay?" she whispers. Blinks, can't believes she asked. She's not even sure if she meant until the rain stops or forever. He nods and retreats back behind the door. Mikey looks at her, and she wonders for a second what he sees.

The next day, when she shows up Mikey gives her coffee for free, and then makes her bus the tables.

After that things are a little easier. She doesn't worry so much about losing control of her powers. It’s almost as if being around Mikey and Ray helps to center her. She gets better at sensing when there are others nearby. She learns how to shut down the active ability before she starts leeching off others. When she starts to feel like she's slipping Ray will bump her shoulder and whisper something comforting in her ear. It never fails to amaze her that Ray knows when she's feeling just a little too stressed; A little too close to the edge.

She knows he has a power of his own. She can feel it the same way she feels Mikey's. The same way she can feel Gerard's, too. She never dug too deeply to find out what it was. She could if she wanted to, but she gives Ray the same respect that he gives her. If Ray wanted her to know what his power was he would tell her.
Mikey seems like an airhead on the surface, but it’s precisely that mask of monotone and blank stares that makes him so dangerous. She thinks he would have sent her away, if Gerard had said no that night.
Gerard, who Celeste hasn't seen since that night, almost three months before. She's not surprised, really. The guy didn't seem too into social situations to begin with.
*
The day after Halloween a boy with dark hair and a girl with tricolored eyes wander into the cafe. Celeste ignores them the best she can. People with abilities come in from time to time. But Celeste bumps into the girl, when she accidentally stumbles up the aisle too close to the table she was clearing. Celeste had thought her normal for a moment, but when her skin brushed hers she got a flash of the girl’s power. Their eyes locked, sensing each other. Mikey caught her staring and cleared his throat. She nodded to him, crossed the room and passed him to get to the kitchen.

"She's a Discerner," Celeste whispered as she passed him, her skin crawling. She hid behind the door, breathing heavily. Ray looked over at her and she gave him a wry smile, "I'm okay. I thought she was a norm, so I wasn't blocking."

"Come here, help me knead this bread," Ray said, hands covered in flour. She smiled at him, washing her hands and sliding in next to him. She'd just started kneading when Mikey called for Ray to watch the front. Ray just shrugged at her, scratching his nose and going.

"Fifteen minutes," he warned before he disappeared, "And then into the oven." Celeste rolled her eyes and folded the dough over, working it with her shoulders. She really thanks god for Ray Toro some days.

_______________

In the very back of the building is a room with a small window near the ceiling. A small curtain hangs over it, blocking out the only natural light that filters through. There’s a lamp that sits on a table in one corner. Gerard is hunched over a sketch book, pencil in hand. He looks up and smiles at his brother fondly when he sees him, sitting the pencil down. He looks tired, and Mikey wonders how much of himself he gives up each time he does this for someone else.

“There’s a boy here with wings,” Mikey starts, and Gerard interrupts with, “Oh shit, really?”

Mikey knows that if his brother were a little less phobic about other people he’d already be outside the door and staring. Gerard has always been interested in things that aren’t normal. His tie to the supernatural has only increased his interest. Mikey grins and pulls a white wing from his pocket, handing it to Gerard.

“He’s looking for his father,” Mikey tones and Gerard looks up, nodding.

Mikey stands quietly while his brother works. It’s fascinating; the way Gerard uses his tools to help nearly every one who walked through the door of the café. When Gerard’s powers first manifested they were pretty strictly set to just communing with the dead. Little voices that filtered through the air. In the five years since then Mikey has watched Gerard’s abilities grow to something beyond that. His brother now practiced Wicca solitarily as both a way to control his abilities (once he’d managed to manifest a ghost accidentally while at the supermarket) as well as a gage for how they grow.

When Gerard opens his eyes they’re as black as the midnight sky and his skin glows with an unnatural light. This is Gerard tapping directly into the source of his power. Ley lines are a source of power for witches. It’s a direct connection to the ever after, and connect everything together. His hair swirls with absent wind before the light dissolves and Gerard tips his head back.

“Huh,” he says, “That was a lot easier than I thought it would be.”

“What?” Mikey asks, wrinkling his brow at his brother.

Gerard grins suddenly, “Tell him to go to Philadelphia. When he gets there he is to make contact with Jimmy Sullivan. He’ll have to ask around to find him. Jimmy can put him into contact with a man who goes by Brian. It’s not his real name. Brian will contact the man with wings, because where he is, Frank can’t go.”

Mikey doesn’t ask how he knows the boy’s name; he just touches Gerard’s shoulder, a promise to bring him some lunch, and goes to relay the message. Ray sends Frank and Tarra off with two carryout bags of muffins and brownies with the hopes that it will tide them over for the night. And as suddenly as the two were there they were gone again and things were back to normal at the Brothers Way Café.