Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Lover Letters

Lover Letters The Conclusion

by MikeyMemories 3 reviews

The End

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Horror,Romance - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [V] - Published: 2010-08-31 - Updated: 2010-08-31 - 1647 words - Complete

It was the next day before Gerard visited again and Gerard had not been idle. He had sharpened and sharpened the spade handle on the rough stone wall. It still wasn't a weapon, not anything close but it was hope.

"Gerard?" Frank called as usual, descending the stairs. Gerard coughed and answered raspily."Yeah. Frank," Gerard asked when Frank had perched himself on the step Gerard began to think of as Frank's. "Can I have some water? Please?"
Frank shook his head and Gerard tried again, "Maybe some f-food? Or something?" He grew more desperate as Frank shook his head.
"I'm sorry Gee, but if you eat, so do the monsters." Frank explained reasonably, his hands cupping his own face.

"But....but what if I starve?" Gerard whispered, pitifully.
Frank nodded at him, looking sad. "It's a race. I hope the monster starves before you do. But if he doesn't..." Suddenly Frank looked upset. "I just hope the monster doesn't kill you, Gee."
Gerard was watching his with weary acceptance. "Me too, Frank. Me too."

Frank played with his lip rings and mumbled, his voice growing stronger and more rambling as he told Gerard about his day, his news. Gerard nodded wearily, not really caring about what happened outside his own cramped, dirty basement home. Gerard thought that he should be grasping onto every piece of news from the outside world like a lifeline but it simply hurt too much to hear about life outside. Easier to pretend this basement was the world.

"And there are people looking for you now, they've finally realised you're missing. I told them you came to my house that night and drove off, but didn't tell me where you were going. I drove your car to the next town and trashed it. Sorry. Hopefully they'll think you got killed or something. Couldn't have them coming down here and finding us, now cou-"
Frank's eyes flicked up to the door at the top of the stairs as red and blue lights flicked around the kitchen.

He stood and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Crossing the small gap between them, he clamped his small hand over Gerard's mouth and hissed "Make any noise and I'll kill you,"

Seeing Gerard's expression, Frank's face softened. "Sorry, but if they find you they'll take you away from me."

There was a sharp knock at the front door. It echoed down to the basement, bouncing off the damp walls. Gerard considered biting Frank and screaming for help but after the thought crashed on him like a wave, Frank withdrew his hand. Gerard opened his mouth and quickly, Frank shoved the barrel of the gun into his mouth. Eyes widening in shock at the cold metal, pressing down on his tongue. Frank was moving again, tearing Gerard's shirt and lowering his face to him.

"Make one noise and I'll shoot you."
Gerard stared at him and Frank stared right back while he tugged the hem from Gerard's shirt.
"I mean it. One sound and I'll start with your ankles, and then shoot out your kneecaps."
Frank pulled his arm back and replaced the gun with a ball of material then quickly tied the strip of shirt around Gerard's mouth.
"i just hope the monster dies before you do." Frank said, his fingers combing through the back of Gerard's hair.
The skin on his scalp crawled when Frank's too-warm, calloused fingertips brushed over it. He nodded frantically, his mouth obstructed by the make-shift gag.

There was a harder, more insistent knock on the door.
"Mr Iero? Police. I'd like to ask you a few questions," A cool voice floated down the stairs. Frank stood. "Not a sound," he reminded his prisoner and strode up the stairs, making the thin light in the basement disappear when he closed the door. I'd? Gerard thought. Don't cops usually come in pairs?

Frank opened the door to one policeman standing on his porch.
"G'afternoon Mr Iero. I was hoping you could answer a few questions about a disappearance for me."

Frank nodded and stepped back, waving the cop into his living room.
"Of course. Have there been any uh...leads? That's what they call them, right?" Frank grinned, sitting on his armchair to face the intruding cop, forcing him to sit on the couch.
"Sure. I'm Officer Garrison, we spoke on the phone.."
"Yeah, yeah, 'course. That cop Reynolds called by earlier." Frank said, hinting that he had answered enough questions.
The officer gave him a patient, cool smile. "It'll just take a minute."
Frank repressed a sigh. "Go ahead," he said through gritted teeth.

In the basement Gerard's mind was roaming. A trained cop he thought, imagining a tall, muscular man. Against Frank, if it came to that. Gerard envisioned his small, short captor wrestling with a cop.
Cop'd have to win, he thought desperately.
He dragged himself to his feet and stumbled to the rough wall at the back of the basement. He dug into the softer dirt and pulled out his spade, hugging it close to his chest. He stood shakily. The weakness and hunger was overwhelming. He gripped his spade close to him and stumbled to the bottom of the stairs. He climbed up them, one both knees and one hand, the other gripping the spade. He knelt at the top of the stairs and pressed his ear to it.

"-did Mr Toro sound distracted when you spoke to him? Was his behaviour normal?"
"Yes, he sounded fine. Same as always."
"Did you spend a lot of time together then?" The officer questioned. Frank frowned.
"Of course. We worked together, best friends. We were very close."
"Then why, Mr Iero, then why do you continually refer to him in the past tense?"

Gerard's cold, dehydrated hand reached to the door. He tried the lock but it was flipped on, of course. His hand crept out to brush over the rusty hinges of the door itself. Swallowing, he fitted the sharp tip under the hinge closest to him. Taking a deep breath and summoning his remaining strength, he pushed down on the handle, using it as a lever, focusing all his energy on it. It didn't budge. He gritted his teeth, a nerve jumping in his jaw. A slight, growling whine escaped from his throat when his shoulder protested and the hinge didn't move at all. He swallowed. He had wanted to escape as silently as possible so there would be no fight, but it looked like it was impossible. He inhaled deeply, stood close to the door crack and screamed until his throat bled.

Snapping his body upright and drawing his gun, the cop pointed it at Frank, right hand on his left wrist as he backed out of the room and into the kitchen. Frank held his hands up and when the cop reached down to open the door, in the blink of an eye Frank drew his .45 and aimed a bullet into Garrison's stomach. It was slightly off; the bullet went through his upper thigh. The cop crumpled up on the floor and Frank strode over. He was writhing in agony, his mouth working as he tried to scream, but only choked gasps came out. Frank dug his fingers into the bullet wound, feeling the hot, sticky blood soak his fingers as the cop roared. He kicked his gun away from him and ran to the kitchen. Banging his fist on the door, too infuriated to think he threw himself at the door and bellowed.
"Shut up shut up shut up shut UP!"

Holding his breath and gritting his teeth, Garrison held a shaking hand to his leg and pulled his two-way from its holder on his waist, holding the button.

Gerard screamed in rage and fear, pounding on the door as the last echoes of the gunshot faded from his ringing ears. Suddenly a small crack split the old wood at the top and Gerard watched in morbid fascination as it ran down the grain. Launching himself, he threw his thin body against it again and again and Frank slapped his palms on the other side, still chanting at him to shut up.

"Jesus, I'm sorry Gar, just please don't die man, ok?" A frantic, breathless voice pleaded on the two-way.
"Christ, shut up Reynolds, just fucking get here." Garrison snapped, panting a little in pain.
"I'm coming man, I'm coming, just hold on Gar, ok? You can't die, what'd I tell your wife?"
"You could tell her to stop screwing my brother, now just stop fucking around and get here."
"I'm coming!"

Gerard buried the tip if his fingers into the crack and pulled it apart, watching it widen before his brain caught up to his actions and he pulled his bleeding fingers away and replaced them with the tip of the shovel. He watched as the outer half of the door fell down and forward, feeling as if he was watching it from outside his body. Then his eyes widened and he threw himself through the small gap, suddenly glad for his weight loss. His knee cracked against the floor as he launched himself at Frank and pinned him down.
"Gee, stop it's me-" Frank pleaded.
"No. You shut up!" Gerard screamed and drove the tip of the spade as hard as he could into Frank's chest.

Gerard gasped and his chest snapped up as he woke in the dark. "Get off, get off," he mumbled hoarsely, pushing the hands away from him until the familiar words filtered through to his brain.
"It's ok Geebaby, you were dreaming again."
Gerard swallowed wetly and glanced down at the bed, his eyes adjusted as Bert pulled himself up and rubbed his back. "He's gone?" Gerard croaked and Bert nodded soothingly.
"Gone." He repeated as he rubbed his back. "Frank's dead, Gee, he won't hurt anyone anymore."
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