Chapter 1: Another Day, Another Drilling Session with Gee
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“Okay, Mikey. Let’s go over this real quick: When people call you weird, what do you respond with?”
Gerard would often drill Mikey on what to say when someone would make fun of him every day since childhood. It was routine for the latter, and a good form of encouragement—both were something he needed to prevent dysregulation.
“I prefer the term ‘abnormally functioning’. And if they continue to provoke me, I walk away from them," Mikey responded. Gerard chuckled softly, “Answered two questions at once. If they think you’re not paying attention when they’re talking to you?” Mikey had been doing this one for years, and it was one he figured out himself without anyone helping him. “I look in their direction, but not make direct eye contact.” A small smile formed on his face. “I assume you’re still impressed that I thought of that one on my own?” Gee laughed when they heard that one. “You continue to impress me every day, little brother.”
For a good portion of their lives, Gerard and Mikey Way would get told that they were different in more ways than they were similar—they both had a love for music, they both had creative minds, and like most siblings, they had their own “secret language”. For most, that and other traits had been where the similarities ended. While Gerard liked the sounds of engines roaring through the streets—he wasn’t sure what they liked about it, probably because the noise matched their energetic personality—Mikey liked things quiet. He needed things quiet.
Gerard was always expressive, but Mikey…with him it was harder to tell; he mostly spoke with a monotone voice and was known for having a poker face at times, so people just assumed he didn’t really show much, if any emotion.
But the two never seemed to care much about their differences. Gerard had always been insanely protective of their little brother, and Mikey always looked up to his big brother. Gerard would always bring Mikey with him to play ‘Dungeons and Dragons’, in part because he hated it when Mikey was left out of things, but they also knew that Mikey was really into fantasy and roleplay games.
Their differences never tore them apart—they brought them closer together.
By the time Gerard had finished drilling Mikey, the two had their first classes of that day—they would be in separate rooms for most of the day, but would reunite during a free period in the courtyard and for lunch.
“You ready, buddy?”
“Fuckin ready.”
Gerard grinned, revealing their ‘fangs’ to his brother. “See you at 12:26, Mikey.”
Chapter 2: New Friend? Hell Yeah!
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Mikey’s school life, much like his vision, was never the best. As a kid, people thought he wouldn’t have any friends—of course he ended up contradicting those statements when he found himself with Gerard’s D&D group, which resulted in him designing most of the dungeons for their sessions. Even then, the mockery hadn’t stopped; every time he walked through the halls, people would look at him while snickering, “It’s that weird guy again.” And every time he paid no attention; he had friends, and that’s all he really cared about.
Still, of all the traits he had that they could’ve made fun of him for, mostly the physical traits—needing glasses, his messy-ish hair, things that made most people targets—they settled on something in relation to cognition. Something that couldn’t be fixed, or at least something that doesn’t need fixing in the first place. “There’s nothing wrong with being different,” Mikey would tell himself. “They just don’t understand the way I view the world.”
Gee always told him that people were just being mean to him because they were underestimating how cool autism really is. “I still remember when I was having a rough day, and no one could figure out how to help,” the older Way recalled to their little brother, “and you started telling me these really cool facts about Vikings.” “I know you like it when I talk about the things I find interesting. And I know that I have a way of getting through to you when nobody else can.”
Gerard smiled, fangs exposed, at his brother’s understanding. “Everyone thinks you’re the ‘emotionally disconnected’ one, but you can tell what helps people when they’re sad or angry or afraid; that’s being empathetic.”
Later that day, around 12:23 pm, Mikey sat in the courtyard after the lecture hall, waiting for his brother and their friends. He liked getting there at 12:20, since he knew the others would come in their own time. While he waited, he listened to music through his headphones, making stimming motions similar to those of his when playing his bass. He was abruptly interrupted by a smell he knew—and hated—all too well.
Just as he was preparing to ask for the raisin bread to be disposed of, Ray and Frank had arrived at their usual meeting spot. “Hey, Mikey,” Ray said. “Gee had to stop to get us some coffee so he might be a couple minutes late.” Mikey, though glad he was informed, replied, “Okay, well if they ask where I went, tell him I needed to take care of something.” He handed Frank his sketchbook and told the two he’d be back.
Mikey had originally planned on confronting the person responsible for wielding the bread of sensory nightmares, but his motives quickly changed as soon as he got closer. Even with his headphones blasting Iron Maiden, he could still hear enough of the outside world to get his facts straight. And he instantly realized that the person with the bread wasn’t the culprit—she was the victim of the sensory torment.
Without any hesitation, he went over to help her.
“Hey, are you okay? I can get rid of this for you, if you need me to,” Mikey offered. “Please—the sight of this alone is enough to make me feel queasy.” He obliged, and threw the bread slice across the field like it was a frisbee. “There. It’s gone now. Believe me, I hate that almost as much as you do.” He smiled softly as he helped her to her feet.
“Thanks. I’m Artemis Daniels, by the way.” She held out her fist, as if asking for a fist bump. “I’m Mikey Way, though you probably would know that from my brother’s videos.” He said as he gave the fist bump. Artemis seemed to light up when she heard that. “Yes! You're the genius behind the dungeon designs!”
Mikey wasn’t sure if it was Artemis’ reaction that made him stop in his tracks, or if it was that he heard a familiar set of footsteps from behind him that made him respond, “Speaking of which, I should probably go. See you around?” Artemis smiled, as if she understood that he had somewhere to go, and was fine with that. “Sure. And you can call me Artie, if you want.”
“Cool. Until we meet again.” Mikey turned and went back to the meeting spot where his brother and guy friends were, content with himself as he finally met someone who was just like him.