FicWad

Frank and Gerard placed themselves in the quite small queue and patiently waited for their turn to get their money.
Since it was still pretty early in the day, the bank wasn't too crowded.

Of course people were still clinging to the walls, lying on the floor and screaming into the air that they oh so desperately needed money. Sadly, they just had to wait.
Many things in the world were seriously fucked up but at least the bank-system was fair.

Soon the boys stood right before the huge glass wall which separated the visitors from the workers.
"Hey, we're here to get our money this week," Gerard mumbled through the hole in the glass wall which was placed there so that the 'customers' or 'client's would be able to communicate with the bank's staff.

A man with many scars from acne on his cheeks fiddled with the lists and didn't even look up to meet Gerard or Frank's eyes. That man obviously didn't know much about manners.
Gerard frowned and a small wrinkle on the skin between his eyebrows appeared.

"What are your names then?" the scar-man asked with a montone voice. He sounded more like a robot than a human.

"I'm Gerard Way," Gerard said to the scar-man who nodded and checked his name on the list. He then got a bundle of notes which he quickly stuffed into the inner pocket of his long coat.

Then Frank leaned closer to the hole in the glass wall, his hood still covering most parts of his face.
"And I'm Frank Iero," he whispered.

The scar-man's eyes shot up to look at the man standing before him. "Frank Iero?" he said way too loud.
Gerard jumped and tugged at the sleeve of the hoodie Frank was wearing. An alarm had went off inside of him. It was getting dangerous. They had to get out, [b]fast[/b].

Frank ignored the panicked vibes coming from Gerard.
"Yeah, that's my name and I want my money," he said sternly.

"Of course, it's just that the word on the street said that you were dead and therefore we took your name off our list. I'll write it back in again though," scar-man said and handed Frank his bundle of notes too.

Frank nodded and finally turned around to limp his way out of the bank. Gerard followed him like a worried tail.
People had already started grouping up, whispering, staring and pointing at Frank as he left the building.

The word of Frank's 'resurrected' body would spread like the plague all over New York.

The boys hurried to the store where they bought bread, butter, milk, dried fruit and a whole fish. Frank had gotten the idea of getting it even if they didn't have a stove.
He just figured that they could use the fires spread all over town as a cooking device and grill the fish over the flames.

With the groceries hidden underneath their outerwear they hurried back to the apartment. Or, as fast as you can move with a man who is barely able to walk.

To Gerard's relief the streets weren't crowded and he hadn't seen anyone who looked suspicious. Maybe they were safe after all?

Gerard felt like he had to talk to Frank as soon as they stepped into the staircase leading to the apartment.
"What was that about in the bank, Frank? You have to be more careful," Gerard snapped.

Frank groaned and waved Gerard's words away with his hands. "I can't hide forever. What's the fun with that?"

Gerard didn't answer. He was too pissed off to even do so.
Frank should be more careful with his life since Gerard had worked so hard on trying to save it.

When they entered the front door, Gerard threw his coat off and let the loaf of bread roll out on the floor. He didn't care.
He just wanted to be alone and calm himself down.

He stormed into the bathroom and locked it from the inside before he sat down on the toilet. Then the upset man let his face be buried in the palms of his dirty hands.