The sirens blare and the gunshots ring out. What even is normal anymore?
Oh, and I've been super bored lately and wanted to talk to more people on here, so if and when you review, you can drop your email address in if you ever wanna talk about whatever and everything. Or you can just email me at firstname.lastname@example.org . Amazing email, I know. But email me and we can fangirl and be best friends and whatnot. Yeah.
. . .
Highway to Hell
. . .
4 months later
"The search for Frank Iero continues as police in states as far west as Illinois set out to find the teen. The case has been ruled a kidnapping two weeks ago, resulting in police upping the search efforts and keeping an eye out for any suspects."
Gerard glared at the television, the picture of Frank they were using for the investigation smiling back at him.
It had been four months since Gerard had taken Frank, and over that period of time, they had grown closer and closer with very few fights. Frank's leg healed nicely in the makeshift cast Gerard constructed from bandages, and the boy could now get around on his own. Gerard didn't worry about Frank running away anymore; they were practically together now.
Gerard stood from the ancient couch, the springs groaning as the weight was taken away. He made his way up the stairs and to the bathroom, hearing the sound of running water which told him that Frank was still in the shower. He knocked on the door three times, opening it a crack.
"Yeah, Gee?" came the younger boy's muffled reply through the shower curtain.
"You were on the news again," Gerard said, biting back a smile at the nickname. Frank had been on the news every night for the past three months. He should've been more careful. Now they knew it was a kidnapping. He shouldn't have left any evidence...
"Was I? Did they have anything good to say about me?"
"Yeah! They said that you're the most beautiful boy to ever have walked the Earth, and that I'm lucky to have you," Gerard said, grinning at the chuckle Frank gave. He stuck his head out from behind the shower curtain, smiling at Gerard.
"Sounds about right," he joked. "I'll be out in a minute! Can I have a kiss?"
Gerard laughed, opening the door the rest of the way and striding through the steamy bathroom. He planted a sweet kiss on Frank's lips, feeling the younger boy smile against him.
After a few seconds, Gerard pulled back. "Oh, and we're probably gonna have to cut your hair when you get out of the shower. We're going out for breakfast and your face is all over, so we can't go out in public without changing the way you look."
Frank looked sad for a second, but then smiled and nodded. "We're going out?"
Gerard nodded. "Mhmm. Okay, finish up!"
He exited the bathroom leaving Frank to his own thoughts. They were going out, as in going outside. Frank could escape. He could run away from Gerard and never have to see him again. He could tell the police and they could find him, and then Frank could go back to his life. But that's the thing- he didn't want to. Frank didn't want to run away. Hell, he didn't even think of running away anymore. He and Gerard had been getting along perfectly, and they were really starting to form a functioning relationship with each other.
Shutting the water off, Frank stepped from the shower, humming and smiling. He didn't even bother to look in the mirror; almost all of his bruises had faded and every cut had healed. He ran a towel through his hair, wrapping it around him and opening the door.
Loud pounds up the stairs.
"You ready?" Gerard came into view, holding a comb and an electric razor. Frank nodded. They both re-entered the bathroom and Frank sat down on the edge of the toilet. Gerard held the scissors up, examining Frank's hair.
"Alright," he said, mostly to himself. "Well, I don't want to do anything too drastic. That fringe is just so damn adorable, and I absolutely love running my fingers through it." He sighed, his eyes glazing over a bit. "I don't think we have much of a choice. You okay with a buzz cut, Frankie?" Frank nodded.
Gerard switched the razor on, the high-pitched buzzing noise that filled the room causing Frank to flinch. He'd overcome most of his fears about Gerard- beatings, screaming, mood swings. Gerard had promised he wouldn't hit Frank anymore, and so far, he hadn't. But there was still that one little fear there. No matter how hard Frank tried to rid of it, it was still there.
He was afraid of loosing Gerard.
He constantly feared that the older man would decide one day to just drive him out into the woods and leave him. He was afraid that he'd stop loving him. He held his breath on every rare occasion that someone knocked on the door, his thoughts instantly switching to think that the police had come to arrest Gerard and take Frank away. He knew that they'd find out that Gerard committed all those murders. They'd find out that he'd raped an underage boy. He would be given the death sentence. That was what Frank was most afraid of.
Frank didn't know how he would be able to function without the killer in his life. They'd been together for months now, and Gerard had done everything for him. Frank wasn't sure he'd be able to live the way he used to.
The feeling of the plastic against his scalp brought him back to reality. He watched as his hair floated to the tile floor. The fringe was taken away, leaving his forehead completely exposed. He didn't feel the shaggy black tufts brushing against the back of his neck anymore. Gerard blew the rest of the hair away when he was finished, running his hand over the short hair.
"There. Finished," he said, standing back to inspect his work.
Frank looked up at him, his eyes large. "How does it look?" he asked, fearing the older man wouldn't like it.
Gerard whistled, smirking slightly. "Makes you look awful young, sugar."
Frank pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh. I see."
Gerard raised an eyebrow, smiling playfully. He ruffled the younger boy's hair, chuckling. "I love it, Frankie."
Gerard's lips pulled into a grin. "I sure as hell am going to miss that fringe, though."
. . .
Gerard strode through the wide kitchen, making sure he had his cell phone, drivers license (fake, of course), and money. Frank was sitting on top of the counter, his feet dangling a great deal away from the floor. He watched Gerard walk about, his eyes curious as the man stopped in front of him. He reached a hand up and ran it over Frank's smooth hair again, bringing both hands to rest on the boy's knees.
"Frankie," he hummed. "I need to tell you how this is going to work. Now, we're heading into town today to eat and go shopping. I've been thinking this through for a while, and I'm pretty sure I've found a way we can do this. Now, you're still a bit recognizable, even with that haircut and your piercings out." He sighed. "Your picture is still everywhere, and people may or may not come up to you and ask questions. If this happens, you say your name is Zack and that you just moved into town with your boyfriend, Craig, which is me. Got it?"
Frank nodded, leaning up to plant a gentle kiss on Gerard's lips to try and ease him. Gerard held Frank's face in his pale hands, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks.
(lol bad timing, right? But I just thought I'd say that I'm listening to Last Night On Earth while writing it and it just really sets the mood. Carry on.)
Gerard gazed at Frank through his dark eyelashes, hazel eyes swirling. "Please, Frankie. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. Please, I am begging you." His voice caught slightly, and Frank saw the broken little boy that he'd seen all those months ago. "I love you so much, baby. Please don't leave me."
Frank hopped down from the counter, wrapping his arms around Gerard's neck and closing his eyes, inhaling the scent of coffee, cigarettes, and Juicy Fruit gum. "I promise, Gerard. I promise I'll never leave you. We're together now. I love you."
They stood like that, cradling each other, in the middle of the kitchen for a few minutes. Finally, they broke apart and Gerard reached into a kitchen drawer, pulling out a pistol. He cocked it and shoved it into the waistband of his dark jeans, grabbing a pair off sunglasses off the counter and putting them on. He took Frank's hand in his own, locking their fingers together, and began walking towards the door.
Frank eyed the bulge in Gerard's jeans which signified where the gun was. He spoke up, his voice coming out shakier than he intended.
"Why do you have that?" he asked, pointing at the lump. Gerard smiled slightly.
"Just in case I have to bail us out of any, um, 'situations.'" He looked down at Frank, the younger boy seeing his fearful expression in the dark glasses. "Don't worry, it's nothing to do with you running. It's just in case we run into any nosy cops."
Frank gasped. "You'd shoot a cop for me?"
Gerard smiled sheepishly, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. "I'd shoot anyone for you." And that was the end of their conversation until they reached the car.
Gerard walked Frank around to the back of the house where a decrepit garage stood, looking ready to fall in on itself. The door was rusty and the paint was almost completely chipped off. There were hardly any shingles left on the roof and the window was so dirty that you couldn't even see through it. Gerard pulled a rope on the large door, the metal shooting up and into the roof of the garage to reveal the most beautiful car Frank had ever seen.
A shiny black 1977 Trans Am sat parked in the dusty garage. The windshield gleamed as if it were impervious to the dirt and the tires looked brand new. Frank felt his mouth go slack and his eyes widen as Gerard just smirked.
Frank's eyes snapped to Gerard and he struggled to regain his composure. "It-She's beautiful!" he stuttered. "I didn't know you even had a car, let alone something as beautiful as this!"
Gerard ran a hand lovingly over the hood. "She's my pride and joy. She's the only thing I have left. Well, her and you, of course."
Gerard opened the door for Frank, who climbed in and smiled at the scent of the interior of the car- coffee, cigarettes, and Juicy Fruit. Gerard stepped into the car, shutting the door behind him and sticking the keys in the ignition. The car purred to life and Frank smiled as he saw Gerard's hand laying palm side up on the console in the middle. He laid his hand over Gerard's, who in turn squeezed Frank's. They pulled out of the garage and drove around the house and down a driveway Frank didn't even know existed. They pulled out onto the main road, not another car in sight. More and more fields passed by, which soon turned to thick forests.
"Where are we anyway?" Frank asked, breaking the silence.
Gerard pondered telling him for a moment before deciding that he could trust the boy. "Pennsylvania."
(wow I am just full of interruptions tonight. So I don't know if you've ever been to PA but it is literally ONE HUGE PIECE OF CORN. There are cornfields everywhere. Everywhere. I will grow corn on everything you have ever loved.)
Frank's eyes widened; so they weren't in Jersey after all. He nodded and leaned his head back against the seat, a faint smile on his lips as Gerard hummed along to the CD playing.
"My beating heart belongs to you. I walked for miles 'till I found you. I meant to honor you, if I loose everything in the fire. Did I ever make it through?"
. . .
Frank's eyes fluttered open and he groaned, his head pounding and his stomach churning.
Gerard chuckled, the breeze blowing his hair as he stood with the car door open. "Frankie, we're here."
Frank squinted up at Gerard through the bright sunlight. Gerard grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the car, shutting the door and linking their fingers together.
Frank groaned again, this time loud enough that Gerard heard. His eyebrows furrowed in concern and he gazed at the boy through his sunglasses.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
Frank leaned on Gerard, tripping slightly. "Just a little dizzy. Don't worry about it, Gee. I'll walk it off." Gerard nodded but didn't take his eyes off of Frank as they walked towards a small restaurant.
The town was cute, Frank thought. It was made mostly up of old Victorian houses and inns. As they walked down the street, Frank couldn't help but glance into one of the shop windows, only to wish that he hadn't.
There, sitting innocently in the window of an antique shop, was the smiling picture of Frank that had been on the news for the past four months. Frank nudged Gerard slightly, motioning towards the window with his eyes. Gerard glanced over at it and stiffened, increasing their pace.
They were almost to the restaurant when a guy a little bit older than Gerard sneered at them as he walked by.
"Hey, faggots, boutique's that way."
Gerard froze and Frank closed his eyes. 'No, no, no, Gerard. Don't do anything stupid.'
Gerard grabbed the guy by his jacket and pulled him back, shoving him against the wall of a building. He pulled his shirt up just enough so that the butt of the gun was visible.
"What did you say?" he growled.
They guy gulped, eyeing the gun. "N-nothing."
Gerard frowned. "Oh really? Because I'm pretty sure I heard you call my boyfriend and I 'faggots.'"
The guy was trembling now. "Nah, man. I didn't mean that. Look, I'm sorry, bro."
Gerard looked ready to kill, and Frank prayed that he wouldn't. "I am not your fucking brother, so I insist that you do not refer to me as so. And it's not me you should be apologizing to." He pulled Frank over. "It's him."
"I'm sorry, dude. I really am. I don't even know why I said that. Please forgive me."
Gerard smirked. "Good." He took Frank by the back of the neck and smashed their lips together before pulling away and laughing at the guy's horrified expression.
Once they were out of earshot, Frank whispered, "Gerard, what the fuck was that?"
Gerard shrugged. "He disrespected you and therefore needed to apologize."
Frank shook his head. "Yeah, and I appreciate that you did that, but you didn't need to pull out your gun!"
Gerard sighed. "I know, but-just-nevermind."
They walked up the few steps to the small restaurant and entered, a bell ringing as the doors closed. They sat themselves at a table against the wall, Gerard telling Frank that he could order whatever he wanted.
They ate in silence, sharing occasional glances at each other until Gerard spoke up.
Frank looked confused. "For what?"
The older man sighed, his sunglasses resting on top of his head and pushing his dark hair back. "For acting like a dick out there. I was rude to you and was just being an asshole. I'm sorry."
Frank nodded, sipping his coffee. "It's alright. I love you, Gee."
Gerard smiled a sweet, genuine grin. "I love you, too, Frankie."
The TV in the dining area caught Frank's attention. There, in the top right hand corner, was his picture again. The volume was muted, so Frank read the captions.
'Police had decided to start searching for a body, but mother Linda Iero disagreed.'
The screen switched to Frank's mother, who was crying as usual. By now, Gerard had turned and was watching the TV, too.
'My Frankie is still out there somewhere, and the sicko that took him needs to be caught. The police say that they're doing their best, but I say they aren't! They haven't found anymore evidence and don't even have any leads! If the person who took him is out there watching this, bring him home. Please.'
Gerard turned back around, his sunglasses back down over his eyes. He fished out a wad of bills, throwing them down on the table next to the check. He grabbed Frank's hand and pulled him out of the restaurant.
He didn't let go until they were halfway down the street.
"Are you okay?" Frank asked, his voice innocent and full of sympathy. 'Sympathy for your own kidnapper,' a voice whispered in his head. 'Nice.' Frank quickly shooed it away.
Gerard stopped and turned. "No, Frankie. No, I am not okay." And he left it at that. As they continued down the street, more and more people began to flood the sidewalk and Frank found it harder and harder to keep track of Gerard. Soon, he found himself lost.
"Gerard?" he called through the mass of people. He turned around, eyes searching frantically for black hair and a leather jacket. "Gee?" A hand grabbed his shoulder. Frank turned around, gasping as a police officer stared down at him. Frank gulped. "Yes, officer?"
"Having trouble finding someone?" he asked, his voice kind.
Frank shook his head, looking over the cop's shoulders for any sign of Gerard. "No."
The officer smiled. "You sure? I can help you find them." The smile faded and he looked perplexed. "Wait, aren't you that missing boy?" He pointed at the flyer in the same window as before. "Frank? Frank Iero?"
Frank shook his head, attempting to smile, but he was sure it just came out as a grimace. "No, I think you're mistaking me for someone else. My name is Zack."
The officer grabbed his arm, brining his radio to his mouth and muttering some code. "I better take you back to the station, just in case." He began to drag Frank along, the boy whimpering and pleading to let him go. They were about to round a corner when Gerard smashed into them both, looking a bit annoyed.
Gerard stared at Frank, then at the cop, then back at Frank before grabbing Frank tightly around the waist and pulling him into his chest. He pulled his pistol out, pointing it at the cop, who in turn had his own gun drawn.
Gerard growled at the officer, everything about him in that moment animalistic. "He's mine," he snarled.
"SIR, PUT DOWN THE WEAPON AND GET ON THE GROUND."
By now, everyone was screaming and running into shops, trying to find cover in case there was a hailstorm of bullets.
The officer stepped closer to Gerard. "I am going to tell you one more time. Give me the kid, put down your weapon, and-" The officer began gasping, his eyes wide. He grabbed his stomach and fell to his knees, blood oozing between his fingers.
Gerard blew the smoke from the tip of his gun, scowling. "Well that's three wasted bullets." He spat on the ground next to the officer and grabbed Frank's wrist, pulling the shocked boy towards their car.
As soon as they got into the black Trans Am, Gerard rested his hand over Frank's, going about forty miles over the speed limit and back towards the highway.
"You alright, Frankie?"
Frank, who was as pale as a sheet, nodded, his eyes about three times their normal size. Gerard leaned over and kissed his cheek, pulling a sharp turn onto the on ramp, car horns blaring at him.
Frank heard the police sirens in the distance and felt the warm grip of a serial killer's hand as they sped away from a possible murder scene, kidnapper and victim, two lovers on the highway to hell. And as they ran from the police cars, a definite chase beginning, and the sound of Gerard firing bullet after bullet at the squad cars, Frank couldn't help but laugh and sing.
"He'll be my prince and I'll be his princess, it's a horror story, baby, just say yes."