Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Chance Days: The Original Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys

Chapter 4

by FlyingSmoke 3 reviews

Frank really has a love hate relationship... "You got fucking jizz on my backpack."

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama,Humor - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [!] [V] - Published: 2012-04-04 - Updated: 2012-04-05 - 3578 words

I sat there, head bowed, playing thumb war with myself, waiting for Korse to enter the room.

The car ride over here to Battery City, he didn't say much, aside from the changes BLI has been making. New issue guns, better tracking devices... the usual technology advances you'd expect out of a company in 2017. Didn't even ask me more about Gerard. Which worried me. Normally I'm peppered with questions, some I can answer, others I can not. Not this time. He was a clam, and this was one pearl I did not want.

I heard a door lock click, and my hands folded themselves as I looked up and saw a Draculoid holding the door open so Korse could walk in. I stood up, back straight, and nodded my acknowledgement. He was never one for handshakes. Maybe that's why whenever I was in Battery City, I was here for exactly one week. Enough time to disinfect from the dirt and suntans I acquired through living in the Zones, and plenty of time to soak to Gerard's color. "Sir," I said, my face emotionless like every other Better Living Industries, yet paler than usual. FRANK. DON'T THINK OF GERARD. NOT NOW.

Korse nodded and sat down, arms going to rest on his chair arms. I sat down too. "Frank, glad to be back in Battery City, away from the savages known as killjoys?" he asked, hands folded in front of him. "I'm sure it was rough this time, seeing as you were... captured, by Party Poison?"

Gerard, ass hole. "Yes sir," I said plainly, wanting to laugh at how absurd that statement was, but I didn't want to get on Korse's shit list. It was long enough, and I was not a name that would be spared any liberties. "My left leg and right foot had me immobilized for a short while out there close to the compound. I wasn't able to fight back."

Korse nodded and leaned forward, elbows in the desk and head on his interlocked hands. "So that means you learned things about Party Poison, am I correct?" he asked, one eyebrow raised, daring me to say no.

I had to though. "No sir," I said quietly, my thumb twitching. "I regret to say that, other than what I told you, I did not learn anything."

"My, my, Frank..." Korse said, the eyebrow going down. "Six months. You've had six months out there in Zone 5 and you haven' t learned a thing." His words were sharpening, increasing in clarity and venom. "Six more months than what you had last time. You learned so much last time and this time... this time you were virtually useless." My thumb twitched again at the word useless and I felt my face grow tighter: I was not useless. "I do not regret to say your title is revoked, and your job is done."

My hands clenched into fists and I ground my teeth together. "Sir," I said, matching his venom, "you fail to realize that six months is not enough to get the most wanted killjoy. G--Party Poison is not the easiest catch." I felt my skin go numb and my eyes felt like they wanted to go wider but couldn't. Oh. Fuck. Please don't catch that...

Korse grinned. FUCK HE CAUGHT IT FUCK! "Stuttering problem, Frank? I heard truth helps them go away." He stood up. "Your life depends on it."

I paled. Visibly. Two and two... means no Gerard. Oh fuck. It's a double edged blade! FUCK! "I stuttered on his name, sir," I said, trying not to speak so quickly. "I heard a rumor that his name was Jared."

Korse stood up, looking down at me. "You don't even know his name. Pity." Korse began walking out of the room. "Still no job, Frank."

I bit my lip and stood up. "Sir," I called out, just biting on my lip more when Korse stopped. "Give me a time extension. Please. I will bring him to you in six months." I felt my feet itching to run, and I didn't have a gun on me, like normal. "I promise."

Korse turned around to look at me and grinned. "Bring Party Poison or bring your life, Frank. Once the three months are up, one is due."

I drew blood in my lip. "Sir, I said six months, not thre--"

Korse raised a hand to cut me off. "You are... such an accomplished hunter, three months will be more than enough time for you to chase a rumor, Frank," he said, still grinning. "I'm sure you will find him."



Frank, calm. Everything will be all right," I heard a voice say, and I ground my teeth together. "There are ways to get Gerard, but I alone know them."


"Oh my god, Frank, you are not losing your mind," the voice said. "We can pick up your helmet's radio waves. You're talking out loud. Three months to get Gerard, eh?"

I kept silent, trying to pinpoint the voice. They know Gerard... fuck. Now he's gonna know. Nice going, dumb ass...

"Frankie, pet, I can hear every little word you say," I heard a different voice purr in my ear, and my eyes widened. Gerard is there. "Yes, pet, I'm right here. Twitch saw you coming from Battery City. Came to us, and we thought we would have a little fun, mhh? You seem very... stressed, pet..."

I felt my eyelids droop a little and the straight line I had going was looking like it was about to be a slope. God damn it... where's my cliff...

"I don't know, pet, you've been driving a long time already... it has to be tough on you, having to sit with your legs spread that long..."

I shook my head and scowled. "Gerard, stop. I do not need you purring dirty somethings into my as I drive." I gasped. I did speak out loud.

"Dirty somethings, pet? I could make it so much worse, Frankie..." Gerard's voice was hardly anything away from a seductive growl in my ears, slowly making my jeans tighter as the rest of my body turned to mush. "So bad you couldn't even imagine..."

I bit my lip and shook my head, blinking and speeding up. "No," I said firmly, spotting my hideout in the cliffs. "I do not need this. I'll take it when I come, Gee," I said sarcastically, then lifted a hand off the grip of the bike and removed my helmet. "Not now." I tossed the helmet in front of me, narrowly avoiding running it over. Not today.

I turned and began the gradual climb up the side of the cliff, to my outcropping. The sun was just beginning to turn the sky a light orange color when I parked my bike. The sun was setting, and there were a few clouds in the sky. "Huh," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets, careful not to undo any of the clean bandages I received from my week at Casa de la Battery City. "Might rain." I chuckled and shook my head, looking down and walking inside my clean but a little dusty hideout. Rain? In the summer? Please. I looked at my cot, pausing. I needed sleep. Sleep was essential to life.

I chuckled and looked at the wall my cot was against, the wall with the map of the Zones. Different markings and lines of different colors and styles littered the wall-sized image, with much of each color. Expect for red. Gerard was a tricky one. I walked up to the map, grabbed my red pin marker, and put a dot in Zone 6, slightly off the road I drove on... someday. Maybe a week ago. I shook my head and wrote 'DINER' next to the dot in big font, something easily seen. My arms folded themselves, and I tapped my chin. It needs... I grinned. It needs his mask, right next to it.

I backed up from the wall and nodded. "His mask," I said, still grinning. "I'm going to get his mask." I froze. Wait. When you were at the house, what did you see? I thought for a moment, biting my lip, missing my lip ring. Cacti... dirt... cliffs... tower... I gasped. "The tower! The radio tower!" I exclaimed, smiling. You can get the house!

I looked around at my map things, then found what I was looking for: my compass. I widened the metal thing out to about the distance where I knew you couldn't see that tower anymore, then did the fun part of drawing a circle from the dot. A ten-mile radius surrounded the tower, meaning the house was close. I grinned, actually happy. I was getting Gerard and he was coming to Battery City!

I stepped back outside and jumped on my bike, not caring if I ripped anything. My helmet… I reached for it, then shook my head and sped down the cliff. Helmet met sand. The road was losing the watery shimmer it has in front of me as I drove down said road, humming to myself and smiling. Gerard… He’s going to be mine. Mine for the taking. Korse will have nothing to do with it. My smile morphed into a sick grin. Then… then I’m truly happy.

The Diner came up on my left, and I looked towards the approaching night sky. If I waited long enough… House now. Diner later. I nodded once to myself and drove past the diner, noting the absence of any vehicles. Huh. Must just be Dr. Death Defying. I looked around me and took in the lack of scenery. The landscape looked like it was growing random patched of hair here, the bushes growing larger in size and grouping. I didn’t see many cacti, but I swear those bushes were getting closer to the road compared to the normal twenty foot distance they kept. I sighed and looked away from the landscape, at the road again. And what I saw made me smile.

I sped my motorbike up even more, gun in hand. The Death Machine was driving half a mile ahead of me, kicking up dust all the way back here. Whoever was driving, they were hauling ass. And being careless. Their taillights were on, and I could see the exhaust from the exhaust pipe floating past me as I caught up to the Trans Am. I grinned and sped up more, to drive side-by-side with the Death Machine. I looked in and saw Gerard half-driving, half listening to music, and half filing his nails down like a girl while chewing gum. I let out a high-pitch giggle and Gerard looked up, somewhat shocked as he looked around then raised an eyebrow when he saw me, hand poised, ready to file some more.

I smirked and took a leap of faith from my bike, trying to jump into the Death Machine, like in the movies. It’s not as fun, let me tell you that. It hurts when you collide with the driver and your ass is still hanging out of the window. And normally, the driver keeps speeding up with the gas. Not Gerard. I jumped on him and he stopped the car, so I jerked forward and hit my chest on the car frame. Gerard also jerked forward in his seat, squishing me for a moment. Like I said, not as fun.

“Pet, I knew you missed me, but is it very necessary to attack my clothing while I’m driving?” I heard Gerard say, sounding a bit shocked. “I almost stabbed somebody…”

I huffed and turned my head to look at Gerard as my ass was still in the air. “Just open up the car door and I promise I won’t stab you with the file,” I growled, glaring at the man who was not petting my hair. “And stop petting me. You might call me pet but I’m not a dog.”

“Oh, Frankie…”Gerard shook his head. “I can’t do anything of those things. Not only do I quite enjoy this view,” here he leaned forward and set his forehead on my side, “but your hair is so soft, and I do not want to stop touching it.” I shivered slightly and he kissed my back. “Besides… I’m quite enjoying this, watching you get flustered without words.” I opened my mouth to protest and his hand moved from my hair to my mouth. “You know you’re getting flustered. I just didn’t think you’d put your ass in my face to tell me.”

I wanted to bite Gerard’s hand and stab him with that girly file of his, but I couldn’t. Not when he was right. “Fuck off, Gerard…” I huffed against his hand and shut my eyes, trying to think of anything that would make my pants loose. Fat grandmas in bathing suits, kittens being brutally beaten, me eating a steak… My eyes shot open and I nearly gagged. That’s not a thought I like, or will ever use again. I’m not stiff anymore.

I felt a chuckle against my abdomen and my eyes fell shut again. “Frankie, pet, you know you wish I would…” a voice purred into my ear, and I shook my head slowly, not agreeing with the voice, but not by much. “Yes you do, pet… You wish I treated you like an animal… Mhh, have you on a leash and everything…” My pants started growing tight again and I almost started grinding on the side of the car before my eyes shot open again. I still had my arms.

I smiled against Gerard’s hand. “Mhhph fmmph mh hm hm.” The hand moved from my mouth and I smirked. “I still have arms, dumb ass,” I said, pushing on his lap and out of the car. I think I hit his crotch because normally you don’t keep a gun where I pushed off. Oh well. I stood up beside the car and shook my head, trying to rid myself of the wind-blown hair I had. I finally patted it all back down and smirked at Gerard again, folding my arms and tapping my foot. “Well?”

He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow, a sexy look on the red haired man… Frank. Bad. “Well what?” he purred, resting his elbow on the car door and leaning towards me. “Are you suggesting we do something Frank?” he asked, chuckling. “I didn’t realize you were this cheeky…”

My smirk widened and I leaned forward, grabbing Gerard’s hair and pulling his face close to mine. He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, with some mint in there for show. “Gerard Way?” He tried to tilt his face up to mine but I held him back, grabbing my gun and putting it beneath his chin. “By order of Better Living Industries, you are under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you in integration. Anything to say before I successfully take you to Korse?” I breathed in his face, grinning. “Or any last words?”

Gerard shrugged and looked at me, a twinkle in his eyes. “Go ahead. I will say nothing in protest nor dissent,” he breathed back, blinking slowly. “You have me, Frankie, now let’s see if you can make it back to your dungeon before the clock strikes twelve.”

I swiftly removed the gun from his chin and butted it against his head, knocking him to the side a bit. “I’ve heard worse, Party Poison.” I knocked Gerard’s head again, wincing a little at the blood as he slumped forward into my chest. I sighed and pushed his head back, watching him fall back into the seat. Lovely, lovely work Frank… You have Gerard to take him back to Battery City, yet you’re everything less than ecstatic. I rolled my eyes at my thoughts and opened the car door, careful not to let Gerard roll out or anything. His head lolled, but did nothing more than that.

I raised an eyebrow at Gerard’s pants, or, should I say, lack thereof. I didn’t realize it when I went face first into his crotch, but he was wearing a pair of boxers; albeit, amazing black boxers that worked at pants, but boxers nonetheless. Okay, Frank, one of two things. You could either a, attempt to pick up Gerard and get squished, or b, push Gerard over the console into the passenger’s seat. I tilted my head a little bit, looked around at our surroundings, and sighed. No time to do either without hurting either myself or Gerard. “God damn it,” I murmured, turning to my bike and running to it. “No, no no no, fuck, no…” I stood the motorbike up and walked it back to the Death Machine, scowling at the closed trunk. Setting the bike down again after pulling the roll of duct tape off the handle bar, I ran to the driver’s side again, going to the side and checking all the buttons for a trunk button. One popped up by the steering wheel, and I pressed it. It didn’t move. My scowl deepened and I pressed the button again, harder. Nothing. “Fucking hell…” I then began trying to pull the button out. A metal pop sounded, and I sighed. Pull, not push. Idiot.

I ran to the back of the Trans Am and opened the trunk wider, trying to make this as easy as I could for myself. I then turned to look at the bike, laying on the ground on its side like a cast away rag doll during play time. I bit my cheek and walked to it, bending over and pulling it back up into an upright position. With the kickstand down, the handlebars covered in layers of duct tape, the seat almost brown with dust, this bike was a true thing of beauty. Oh well. I kicked the bike backwards as I slammed the trunk shut, running back around to the driver’s door with the duct tape. Gerard was still out, his mouth slight open, exposing the cutest little teeth I’ve ever seen. Well… Erm… Teeth can be cute, okay? I sighed and ripped a strip of duct tape, placing it over his open mouth. His jaw can hurt… It’ll help, either way. I tore another strip from the roll and finished covering his mouth, nodding in affirmation at my handiwork. Now for those hands… Those hands… I know where I want those hands…

It wasn’t the least bit awkward to tie Gerard’s hands together with thoughts like that going through your head. Not the slightest bit. Especially when you notice he’s getting a semi as you wrap his hands together. Not the least bit awkward. Nom.

I finally finished with his hands, the soft things. How that man’s hand are that soft, out here, amidst all this dust and this dirt… I looked down at his feet and shrugged. Why tie his feet up? It’s not like he can do anything. I shrugged again and looked at Gerard, who had closed his mouth by now, despite the duct tape. I reattached the duct tape that had come apart and smiled a little at the handsome man slumped in the seat. Wait. I blinked and shook my head, a hand coming up to run itself through my hair. Now is no time for anything lovey dovey, Frank… Lovey dovey? Oh fuck… I looked at the man and frowned. He needs to get to Battery City. Now. I sighed and crawled into the car, sitting on Gerard’s lap and turning the car back on. His lap was actually pretty comfortable, and it helped me see out of the dashboard at the right height. I settled in quickly and put the car in drive, leaving behind my bike and this shit hole.

To Battery City I go.

Guess whooooooooooooooo?
Oh yes. It’s me. I totally just updated. At… whistles 1:05 am?
“No jkjkjkj lololol.”
Fer Sure – The Medic Droid
“Just wanted to do some fucking yay in the bathroom…” ‘yay?’
Oh dear lord, this song is so old… “Kick off your stilettos and fuck me in the back seat.”
I’m going insane. This is me losing it. I listen to this song like crazy. I got it yesterday and I already have … Oh. Just one play. Feels like a fuck of a lot more…
Just be careful. If I start singing or typing “baby” lyrics, you have permission to shoot me in the foot and admit me to the nearest mental hospital (there’s one in St. Aug.). I’m dead serious. I am not a fan of oranges.
(If you get that reference, I love you.)
(Well, I love you any. You’re reading this. And I haven’t updated in forever. So I love you.)
(Oh yeah. I might need that mental hospital.)
Fer sure maybe fer sure not,
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