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I can't run anymore.

I'm so fucking sick of running away from everyone and everything. Half the time I have psychotic murderers running after me with chainsaws. It's not fair. Other 17-year-old boys are out having fun, while I'm hiding behind a tree in a forest, hoping and praying that I don't get quartered with a breadknife.

It's cold out here. I'm wearing my (slightly embarrassing) black Batman pajamas, with a hoodie. The said hoodie fails to keep me warm, even after I've zipped it up. I'm shaking with cold, and... fear.

I'm scared.

If Gerard Way finds me and kills me, it'll all be over. My parents will've died for nothing. I was supposed to live. I was supposed to be strong and live on. Gerard Way has brutally murdered every single person I have ever loved.

My Dad, my Mum, my Grandpa, Sofia, Judith, Mikey.

Mikey.

My chest aches just thinking about him.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps. Loud, agressive, angry footsteps.

Gerard Way kind of footsteps.

Oh no. Oh no, no no no no.

"Frankieboyyyy!" A familiar cackle sounds throughout the forest. "Where are yooou?"

My heart starts hammering in my chest at a million miles an hour.

He's going to find me.

I'm going to die. I can't summon the strength to stand up and run away. I've probably twisted my ankle. All I can do is to hold my breath, and pray that he doesn't find me. But the fact that I can still hear him stumble through the forest, laughing and giggling like a degranged little girl, makes me feel even more panicky.

"Frankie... Oh, Frankie! Come out an' plaaay!"

He's getting closer. He's going to find me, I'm certain of that. I'm really, truly going to be slaughtered. My father died for nothing. Hell, Mikey died for nothing. Tears start to roll down my cheeks. Just thinking about Mikey turns me into a nervous wreck.

The footsteps get closer, and before I know it, Gerard Way is standing in front of me, the moonlight illuminating his grinning face, as well as the blood-covered butcher's knife in his right hand.

"There you are, Frankie." He smirks, and leans into me, crouching on his knees.

"You killed him. You killed Mr Phillips." I state, glaring at him like he's the scum of the earth. "W-Why?"

Gerard's eyes narrow, but the cheshire-cat like grin on his face remains. "Aw, Frank. Don't pretend like you didn't enjoy it." He sniggers. He really thinks that's funny, doesn't he? What a fucking psychopath.

"N-no. You're fucking sick, is what you are." I whisper, hating how completely terrified I sound. "You scared of me, Frankie?" He hisses, mockingly wiping away the tears on my cheeks. I bat his hand away from my face. "Just- Just kill me and get it over with... please." I add as an afterthought, and I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for my neck to be severed in half.

But nothing happens.

I open one eye.

Gerard is staring at me with a strange expression on his face. Something like wonder... or amazement. My eyes flicker to the butcher's knife in his right hand, still glinting in the moonlight.

Eerie. This whole situation is fucking eerie. And the fact that its started raining isn't helping.

"I'm not going to kill you... not yet anyway." He suddenly murmurs, his face once again lighting up with that scary, deranged smirk. He reaches out to touch my face with one of his long, thin fingers. "I can see why Mikey liked you," he whispers, dropping the knife and gently taking my face in his hands.

His hands. This man has killed every single person in my family with those hands, and now he's touching my face with them.

There is no more hint of craziness in Gerard Way's face. Just... sadness?

No.

Gerard Way is not capable of sadness because he is a fucking filthy human being who goes around digging up people's guts with carving knives for no reason other than the fact that he enjoys it. He can't possibly be able to feel sadness...And then it hits me.

It's Mikey. I see Mikey in Gerard Way's face. The same hazel eyes. The same feminine nose. The same jawline. I can't help myself.

Like the scared little girl I am, I start sobbing. Not only is Gerard Way going to torture me physically, he's going to do it mentally as well.

It starts raining harder. The trees intercept some of the water, but both Gerard and I still get drenched. I can barely make out his features in the rain. I try to squirm away, but this just causes him to let go of my face and drag me into a hug...or a cuddle? Whatever you want to call it, its still fucking creepy.

I'm getting hugged by a murderer. The same murderer who shot my father in the face and laughed. The same murderer who decapitated both my twin sisters and dumped their remains into a lake. The same murderer who shot his own brother, the love of my life, right in front of my very eyes.

The amount of hate I have for this man knows no bounds... so why am I leaning into him?

I want to get up and run away, but my ankle hurts too much. Gerard notices, and prods it with his right index finger. "Broken ankle, eh, Frank?" He states matter-of-factly. "Does it hurt?" His voice is laced with concern. He doesn't sound crazy anymore, and that just sends shockwaves of fear throughout my body. He's planning something. He's toying with me. Like a cat killing a mouse.

"Just... fucking kill me already, please just kill me." I howl into his chest, choking with sobs. I don't care if I've lost all my dignity, I'm going to fucking die already. Nothing matters anymore. Gerard is silent as he runs his fingers through my wet hair. Then he mumbles a quiet, "No,"

For a moment I think I must have heard wrong.

"What?" I pull away from him, and stare into his eyes. He glares at me, as though I've asked a dumb question. "Frank, I said I'm not going to kill you."

"What?" I babble. "W-W-Why?"

His response is to grab my face and smash our lips together.

[A/N: Was this less crappy? Eh. Mikey was Frank's boyfriend, by the way. R&R, please?]