Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us in Prison?

Karma Hates Us

by MyVengefulRomance 9 reviews

Is it possible that more bad things can happen to this poor couple? Hell yeah! Oh, written from Frankie's POV. Just for a change. Ya know. READ!!!

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst, Drama, Humor, Romance - Characters: Frank Iero, Gerard Way - Warnings: [!] [?] [V] - Published: 2006-12-13 - Updated: 2006-12-14 - 1721 words

Ch 5 Disclaimer- Must you rub in the fact that I own nothing; that Gerard Way is just out of my reach? I hate this part of writing fics! GAH!!!!!!

A/N- I'm gonna try something new for this chapter. I'm gonna write it from the POV of Frankie. If you don't like it, or I don't like it, I'll just switch back to the old style, 'kay? Make sure you tell me if you like it or not. Thanks for the reviews; I loved them all. Enjoy...

I clenched my teeth, frustrated, as I gripped the wheel tightly. It was quiet out here on this country road, and there wasn't another car in sight. Thank God. I don't think I could handle another car, especially since it might risk us getting recognized.

Though, the other part of 'us', Gerard, was still unconscious from last night. He hadn't woken up since Angel took control. This happens every time Angel takes over. Gerard would get violent, he'd threaten somebody innocent, and then he'd regain control. And then, he'd pass out. Of course. Don't forget that I forgot his meds. The sheer idiocy of that action astounds me. And I don't normally use such big words.

Don't get me wrong, I love the man with all my heart. He just...scares me without his meds. A lot. He almost killed me last night. It was only luck that caused him to snap out of it right then. Or...or maybe Gerard did have slight control over his body while Angel was mostly in charge. Maybe he fought Angel, and won. Or maybe I just hope too much.

I sighed loudly, the silence somehow deafeningly loud. I switched on the radio for some relief. A newscaster's voice floated out of the speaker.

"Today, Gerard Way and Frank Iero, the two men dubbed by media as the Goth Killers because of their old rocker ways, are still on the run. Special Agent Travis Chase, the man in charge of the man-hunt, says that it's surprising that two such inexperienced men could be so good at eluding police. It was leaked that Gerard Way was even taking anti-psychotics for a split-personality disorder."

I winced, my hand shooting out to shut off the radio. I hated the word 'psychotic' even more than Gee did, if possible. It reminded me that I fell in love with someone potentially dangerous.

I kept driving, even though I had no idea where we were headed. I figured that it was no use fighting; that I'd just go along with Gerard's plan. I really didn't want last night's little, uh, fight to occur again. But first, I needed to find an actual city that had a gun-shop in it. A gun-shop is definitely needed to set off Phase One of Mission God, We've Got No Experience and Are Most Likely Going to Die. I'm good at naming stuff, aren't I?

Hours passed, and still no sign of life from Gerard, other than his chest rising and falling unsteadily. The sun was slowly starting to sink, and I was really starting to get hungry. And, I really needed to take a piss. After awhile, I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled over to the side of the road, and grabbed the backpack full of food and four hundred dollars. I rifled through it, scrunching my nose at all the power-bars.

Of course Gerard only bought power-bars. They last forever, and one fills you up good. But damn! I wanted some like tacos or IHOP. But, we'd get recognized at a fast-food place. Dammit.

I ripped the package open, and while chewing, went through the girl who owned this car's (her ID said 'Cassia') CD collection. I grinned. Too bad we...Gerard...killed her. She had some good taste.

Black Flag, the Misfits, the Smiths...why didn't I look here before? This ride could've been so much better if I had just looked. Then I remembered. It had felt wrong to go through a dead person's things.

I stared at the CD's a second, before getting over it. There were more important matters at hand. Like emptying my bladder.

I kissed Gerard on the cheek quickly, before exiting the car. I smiled at the fresh country air, and sucked in a deep breath. I must've looked funny, standing there with my eyes closed and breathing in and out deeply. After awhile, I remembered my full bladder. Quickly, and nervously, I found a spot behind some bushes and peed quickly. It took me awhile 'cause I kept looking around wildly, feeling non-existent eyes on my back.

Finally, I got back to the car and climbed inside, sighing when I saw that Gerard still hadn't moved. It was getting dark outside and I was getting really tired. Gerard needed to wake up, because if I started to drive, I'd fall asleep. I'd never been good at driving at night. I even crashed into a tree once. That was fun. You know, being jerked awake by an airbag.

I locked the doors and checked to make sure that everything was okay. Except for the whole Gerard situation, I figured that it was okay to go to sleep.

Bad idea, I know, but seriously. Would you have stayed awake if it was your first time on the run? I think not.

As my eyelids slid shut, I remember looking up into Gerard's face, hoping to see some movement. It didn't happen, though. I soon drifted off into a light and dreamless sleep.

I was woken up by something messing with the car door.

Blinking, I sat up quickly, looking at a fully awake Gerard. He looked at me, eyes wide and fear-filled.

He looked absolutely terrible. His face matched the color of his almost-white hair, and there were bags under his eyes. He looked sick. His hands shook as he struggled to get the lock open.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice still filled with sleep.

He turned to me, eyes pleading.

"Frankie, I need to get away from you. I remember last night. I need to get away before I really kill you!"

That woke me up. Why did he remember last night? He shouldn't, unless...

"Gerard, were you in charge last night?"

He stopped messing with the lock, and froze. Christ. He was in control last night. Gerard himself tried to kill me.

"Why?" I asked simply.

Gerard looked at me and said softly, "I wasn't in control; it was kind of like watching a movie. I couldn't control Angel, Frankie. But I did stop him. I'm not sure I can do that again. Next time..." He shuddered, and started working on the manual lock again.

I nodded. I understood. He wasn't in control, then. It was all Angel and Gerard did stop him. That was good.

I gripped his shoulders with both hands, and squeezed them reassuringly. He started to cry.

"Gerard, sweetie, don't cry. You won't hurt me. I know that," I said, smiling at him softly.

"No!" he wailed. "I can't hurt you anymore, Frankie! I can't!"

He wrenched away, and finally got the lock up with one quick pull. Pushing open the door, he stumbled out. I gasped, following his lead and exiting the car. I walked around to the other side of the car, and looked at Gerard, who was on his knees next to the car.

He looked at me side-ways, and then leaned over. Before I knew it, he was violently ill.

"Gerard!" I gasped, running over to him. I kneeled next to him, and rubbed my hand on his back soothingly.

He only continued to retch. He was soon dry-heaving, and I watched in absolute horror as blood came up from between his lips.

"No, Gerard, God, no," I sobbed. I hadn't even realized that I was crying. How could this be happening? I mean, didn't karma have somebody important to pick on? Hadn't whoever ruled the Heavens tortured us enough?

"Go, Frankie. Leave me. Go to Panama. Get the hell away before I hurt you," Gerard said hoarsely, coughing and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

I shook my head silently. I couldn't speak. I tried to pick him up, but I'm so damn small and he's taller and he weighs a bit more than me. I decided to drag him.

He weakly fought for a second, before accepting that I wasn't going to leave him. He just went limp in my arms, and I some how managed to get him into the car. I buckled him in, and he leaned against the window. I got into the driver's seat, and looked at him.

"Gee, sweetie? What's wrong? Do you still feel ill? How come you threw up?" I asked, not expecting an answer.

"I dunno. Maybe I got an ulcer or somthin'," he replied tiredly.

I gasped. That was not good. Everything I know about medical issues comes from TV shows like House, but even from that I know that ulcers are dangerous. If the ulcer goes septic (digestive fluid leaks out), he could die. I can't live without Gerard. Losing Mikey, Ray, and Bob had been painful, but him I could not live without.

I looked at him through tear-filled eyes and said, "You can't die."

He grinned at me.

"Come on, Frankie. I didn't die when I took a knife to the chest, why would I die now?"

I half-smiled at him, and asked, "What now?"

"We find a gun store with my Uzis in it," he grinned.

I rolled my eyes.

"What is with you and Uzis?"

He smiled.

"The movie Lord of War was about guns. And Jared Leto is really hot. He's in it. Yummy. Plus, the only gun I know the name is the Uzi."

I stuck out my bottom lip and pouted.

"Should I be jealous?"

"Definitely," Gerard said, "Jared's way hotter than you."

"You know what? I'm gonna take your little Uzi and take down Mr. Leto. Just 'cause I can."

He flipped me off, and I smiled.

"To the gun-store!"

A/N- I hoped you liked. Tell me what you thought about the POV. I had fun writing it from Frank's POV, but seriously, if you don't like it, I won't continue writing like that. REVIEW!!!!!

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