Author's note: This is a collaboration between me and a friend. I wrote in Gerard's point of view, and she wrote in Frank's. A link to her account to see some of her other fics is: /users/phoenix_53017/pseuds/phoenix_53017. She's an amazing writer so you should really go check that out.

We don't own the band members, just the idea and the OCs.

Summary: The Ways, Frank Iero, Ray Toro and Bob Bryar are currently in the late 1800s and are dealing with everyday life. This story has reincarnation, these characters will have 4 time periods with different events occurring. All are tied together, but can technically stand alone.

Warnings: Implied slash.

Please enjoy and reviews are appreciated.

England, 1890

Gerard's POV (Greenwich Manor, 8:00 a.m.)

Slowly, inch-by-inch, as the sun rose on the horizon in dazzling pinks and golds, a small bar of sunlight stretched desperately into the room it crawled over the pine desk and spilled over onto the newly red mat covered floor. Determined to reach its goal, the little light creeped over the floor and climbed up the bed and reached through the curtains to caress alabaster skin.

With a groan of discontent, the black-haired man rolled over, away from the bright sunlight. Disappointed, the light nagged at the man by flickering around his tightly shut eyes. Finally, he woke up and stretched.

He opened the curtain around his bed, making a mental note to shut it all the way from now on. Hesitantly, he touched his toes to the floor and met wondrously warm rug. By reflex, he pulled the rope to summon his valet, Frank.

The special servants' door that was hidden in the wall, silently slid open and Frank entered the room, already dressed.

"Yes, sir," said Frank tonelessly.

"Please, help me dress. I am going into town, so the black and green suit would be fine,' he ordered.

The only response was a "yes, sir" before he ruffled through the messy wardrobe. Finally finding it, Frank began to help Gerard into it. When he was done, Frank stepped back and waited quietly for his next order.

Gerard stood in front of the mirror and resignedly began fixing his bed head. Almost unconsciously, he moved slightly so he could see Frank in the mirror.

He admired the way his clothes fit the shorter man. It was tight across the chest and only moderately less tight across the abdomen. Gerard wondered idly what the muscles looked like under the clothes. Suddenly, a low throat clearing resounded through the room and Gerard realized he was sock still and staring at Frank.

His valet stood there with a slight smirk and raised eyebrow, causing Gerard to blush slightly.

"Wait, it was his valet. HIS VALET. Shit," Gerard thought.

Sighing, Gerard looked back at himself in the mirror. He supposed his hair was good enough and told Frank quietly he was going down to breakfast.

Frank stayed in the room, presumably to know what to fuss at the housemaid for, while Gerard walked down the hall to the dining room, all the while contemplating what had happened. For some inexplicable reason, he would catch himself thinking about, or in this case staring at, Frank quite often.

Anxiously thinking so much was not good for anyone; Gerard was sure. Politely acknowledging his dependent relatives, he ordered the food determined not to think anymore on the issue.

He failed, however, not to, and the fact that he was off in his own mind was not lost on his concerned relatives. When he finally took the first bite of breakfast, he nearly spewed it across the table. He'd covered his plate with so much salt, it looked like snow.

"Damn, this day is SO NOT going to go well," he thought as he dramatically sighed deeply before bowing quickly out of the room.

Frank's POV (High Tea, 1:00 p.m.)

Though it was unconventional for a master to bring their valet with them while in town, Gerard was anything but conventional.

Actually, Frank concluded while riding in the seat next to the driver of the carriage, the whole Way family was unusual.

Guiltily, Frank's thoughts always land back on his master.

He wasn't sure why this was, but he would catch himself inspecting Gerard when the man wasn't looking.

It was a habit that needed to be broken.

Frank held open the door while his master stepped out to be greeted by his friend Raymond Toro, who had invited Mr. Way for tea.

"Michael couldn't come?"Toro asked as the two gentlemen walked to the house.

"He felt a little ill this morning I'm afraid," Gerard replied with a slight shake of his head.

The sunlight made his skin look so smooth and perfect, like a baby almost.

Frank snapped out of his daze and followed behind his master, trying not to blush.

When he wasn't needed, Frank was in the kitchen conversing with one of Toro's housemaids named Stephanie.

She was pretty and had read everything in her master's library.

They talked about Shakespeare mainly until she whispered excitedly, "My master, as you know, is an inventor and he has built the most illustrious thing yet!"

Cautious, Frank asked, "Does it work?"

"He wants you master to test it first."

"What is it?"

She smiled and said, "You'll see soon enough."

Frank's curiosity didn't have to wait long as he and Stephanie followed their masters into the basement.

"I call this the Hourglass," Toro was saying as he pulled a green canvas off of a structure that was Frank's height.

The various pieces were made of copper or brass and there was a small pane of glass in the middle.

"What does this do?"Gerard asked as he stared in wonderment at the machine.

Frank delighted seeing that look and hearing the musical tone in his master's voice.

"It preserves memories," Toro explained, "and shows them back at you."

Without meaning to, Frank walked over to stand beside Gerard and peering at the machine.

He could feel the heat of someone's gaze on his back.

He glanced over his shoulder and caught Gerard staring at him.

Second time today.

What could it mean?

"And no, it's not a time machine," Toro added.

All Frank could think about now was his master's hazel eyes.

(A week later. Greenwich Manor, 8:07 a.m.)

Gerard woke up with a wet cough that made Frank wince.

Robert Bryar, the family doctor was summoned and concluded that the master had the flu.

So, Gerard stayed up in bed drawing and being a little grumpy in general.

It was very strange to Frank because Gerard insisted that he only wanted Frank to take care of him unless Dr. Bryar was needed.

"Frank," his master said hoarsely, "I'm so sorry."

It felt like there was a part the raven-haired man had left out, but Frank didn't venture on it.

"Sir, it's fine, really. I don't mind at all," Frank really didn't mind. He liked being around Gerard, even through his various mood swings.

"You are truly remarkable," Gerard said now with what seemed to be a sad look in his eyes.

It hurt Frank to see that look and it must have shown on his face because his master's next words were, "What's the matter? You look mournful."

The valet's breath hitched and admitted, "Sir, my mother died of the same illness when I was sixteen…"

Gerard looked genuinely saddened upon hearing this and beckoned the young man over.

Confused, Frank kneeled down next to the bed and looked up.