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- Disclaimer- I don't own, bobdammit. WHY MUST I DEMEAN MYSELF IN THIS MANNER??? cries**

A/N- Here you go. Part two of the revised ending of YKWTDTGLUIP? I'm gonna enjoy this. grins I hope you do too. Prepare for violence, angst, and...well, I don't want to give it away. beams Frank's POV. Enjoy...

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"Is this it?" I asked, staring in awe at the large building in front of us. Brendon nodded grimly, before driving around the block and parking in the street.

Gerard smiled.

"Good idea," he said softly. "This way you won't get caught."

Brendon nodded, and turned towards us, tears in his eyes.

"Are you sure that you want to-?"

"Yes, for Christ's sakes," I said exasperatedly, rolling my eyes. He nodded and sighed, swallowing hard.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, not looking either of us in the eye.

I bit my lip, and looked at him and Gerard.

"Okay. Here's what we're going to do: Brendon, you are going to drive another block away and just stay there. No matter what, just stay there. Gerard and I are going to put the guns in a bag and walk into the bank, and demand some money, I guess."

"Yeah," Gerard said. "Let's actually attempt to rob the bank. I mean, maybe we can actually get away with this and live it up in Paraguay or something."

I smiled and said, "So...we're not just going to walk in there and start shooting?"

"No. I don't want to kill anyone," Gerard said hastily, shaking his head.

Brendon let out a sigh of relief, and Gerard and I started laughing. After the mood returned to somber, I cleared my throat.

"Brendon, I want you to wait for three hours at least. After that, you can leave whenever you want."

He nodded again, not able to speak. I looked at Gerard, and he grinned at me.

"Ready?"

I didn't answer, I just grabbed his face and slammed my lips against his. He immediately responded, prodding my lip with his tongue. I parted my lips, and I could feel him smile. Our tongues battled for a few seconds, before Gerard gained the upper hand. It was just like the first time. Sparks flew down my spine, and my heart began to beat faster. Did I really want to lose this? Did I really want to die? The answer was no, but now was definitely not the time to have second thoughts.

Breaking the kiss, I breathed, "Let's go."

He whimpered at the loss of contact, and then nodded. Gripping my hand, we jumped out of the van, with the bag of guns on his back. I've never really been a huge fan of gun-related violence. Ha, that's ironic.

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If I had thought that the bank was fancy on the outside, I had quickly changed my definition of 'fancy'.

The bank was, in every meaning of the word, gorgeous. And perhaps overly showy, but otherwise, gorgeous.

Every piece of furniture was leather, every piece of woodwork was polished maple, every embellishment was gold. The floors were polished marble, the ceiling high and grand. The front walls facing the street were made completely of glass.

I immediately felt bad about the simple black hoodie and torn jeans I was wearing. Gerard was still gripping my hand tightly as we made our way up the stairs into the main lobby of the bank.

Nobody noticed the two punk kids, as usual. Nobody, at least until Gerard pulled out an Uzi, tossed it to me, and pulled out his own.

"Alright, everybody. Get on the goddamn ground!" he screamed suddenly, pointing his gun at the ceiling.

An explosion of action came at Gerard's exclamation.

Most of the women, and some of the men, screamed. A few children burst into tears, and a middle-aged woman began screaming about how she was going to die. Everybody did actually drop to the ground, covering their heads with their arms. There were about twenty people in the bank, including the security guards and the bank tellers.

The bank tellers, behind (probably) bullet-proof glass, dropped to the ground. An alarm went off from somewhere.

All four of the security guards pulled their weapons, pointing them at Gerard and I.

I cocked my gun, and pointed it at the nearest woman.

"Put down your goddamn weapons," I ordered. "Or these people are gonna suffer."

Gerard grinned, and pointed his Uzi at the guards.

"Come on, come on. Give me your little guns."

He waited until their (three men and a woman) guns were hesitantly lowered before stepping forward and holding out his free hand.

First, the red-haired probably Irish security guard stepped forward and dropped his gun into Gerard's hand. Gerard put the gun on the ground and kicked it to me. I pushed it off to the side, not really wanting to deal with it.

Then, the pretty brunette security guard gave Gerard her gun, then the burly black guard, and finally, the fat and aging security guard.

Each gun was kicked toward me, and then pushed off to the side. After that task was done, Gerard pointed to a corner.

"Get the hell over in that corner," he commanded, walking over and standing next to me. The guards exchanged hesitant glances, not moving.

Gerard blinked before suddenly pulling the trigger. I jumped, not expecting that. Some of the men and women shrieked, sobbing hysterically. All of the children were now crying loudly.

"GET INTO THAT CORNER!!!!!!" Gerard screamed. The guards all obeyed, thankfully. I didn't want Gerard to get too pissed and end up shooting someone.

"Now," he said, turning and looking at the people, all bunched together on the ground. They were shaking and crying, some of them even pleading for mercy.

Gerard stared at them, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"God, you people are pathetic," he snorted. I slapped his arm lightly, and shook my head. He stared at me, before sighing.

"Alright, whatever. You all can sit up now. Just...don't pull anything. I will not hesitate to shoot. I've killed before."

"Yes, he has," I said, "so you'd better listen to what we have to say."

We waited for a second, until they all sat up. Twenty pairs of blood-shot eyes stared up at us, completely at our mercy. It was empowering. The misfit kids who got picked on in high school, now in control. Suddenly, I understood why Gerard loved revenge. It felt...good. True, these people hadn't directly hurt us. But the way some of them were staring at us...disgust and pity in their eyes...they were part of the society that had ridiculed us for all our lives.

I smiled. Payback time.

I know Gerard was thinking the same thing, because he began pacing in front of the group, a sadistic grin on his lips.

"You know what?" he asked me.

"What?" I asked, playing along with his little game.

"I think that some of these people think that they're better than us."

And so began the horrifying game of 'Who lives and who dies?' With Gerard in control.

After he chose his three rich, snobby-ass people wearing diamonds and with the most disgust on their face, I winced. I knew what was going to happen, and I was pretty sure that I couldn't stop it. The thing is...I didn't want to stop it.

Two hours, and four corpses, later, I was in the corner with the security guards. I had excused myself from the game with the excuse, 'I have to make sure the guards don't try anything.' It, luckily, had worked, so here I was.

Within the first ten minutes, each guard had tried to find out my life story and get me to give up. Talk to the negotiator that we were ignoring. To do something to stop Gerard's killing.

I still didn't want to. I didn't want to kill with my own hands, but neither did I want to stop him. I don't think I could have if I tried. Gerard was on a rampage. I guess I was just glad that Angel wasn't in control.

Well, not really. I think I would've preferred the person killing to be Angel, so that I would feel better knowing that the person I fell in love with was not a monster. But still. I loved him with all my heart. I always will.

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Gerard's POV...

I was in control. I could feel the adrenaline rush through out my veins each time I pulled the trigger. I knew that I was pushing it, but Frank would stop me if I went too far. Right?

I had already killed four people. Two middle-aged, fancily dressed women, an older man, and a preppy teenager who called me a 'gothic freak of nature'. I had to shut that kid up.

I could see out of the corner of my eye the police barricades outside. I could see the SWAT teams lining up, their sharpshooters ready. Which is why I put the hostages between myself and them. See, I may be insane, but I am at least smart. I was really nervous, though. Frank was standing in front of the glass, with the guards in front of him. No protection at all.

I had already told the negotiator that I was not interested in working out a deal. But I'd think about it. I lied to him. I'm not going to think about it. I'm just going to keep killing until Frank tells me to stop. Then, we're out of here with a bunch of money.

I honestly thought that within the first two minutes that we'd be shot and killed, but no. We're still here, and I'm enjoying getting revenge on society's debutantes.

In the back of my mind, I knew that I shouldn't be getting such pleasure out of killing. But, another voice kept chiming in, 'Keep going. What you're doing is beautiful. Keep going.' I'd have to agree. This is beautiful.

Those bodies in front of me, blood running from the wounds, mixing with their tears...gorgeous. I suddenly had enough inspiration to paint a million paintings.

As I stared at the rivers of that beautiful liquid, I heard Frank scream, "GERARD!!!! LOOK OUT!!!!!"

I spun around, only to be caught in the chest by what I could only guess was a bullet. I heard the bang, so yes, it was a bullet. As the immense cold spread throughout my body, I slid to my knees, clutching my wound.

I looked at my hands, and I could only smile.

Blood is such a beautiful thing.

"GERARD!!!!"

I heard someone scream my name again in the background, but strangely, I could hear the ocean again. It roared in my ears, and I blinked. I was in a bank, not at the lighthouse.

What the hell-?

I fell backwards, into someone's arms. Looking up, I could make out the outlines of Frank.

His body shook as he held me close, his hands groping at the wound to stop the bleeding. I grabbed his wrist, and he stopped moving.

"Gerard, I need to-."

"You remember that old song? 'Don't Fear the Reaper'? That's us, Frankie. That's us," I said, interrupting. Frank nodded, kissing my forehead.

"I'm doing this for you. You can't be locked up, right Gerard? You need to be free, right?" he asked his voice cracking.

I nodded, white-hot pain shooting through my body. He reached for something, and I felt something cold pressed against my forehead.

"What are you-?"

"This is for you, Gerard. I'm so sorry, I love you so much," he muttered, sobbing hysterically. I blinked, trying not to cry myself. I needed to be strong. But first, I needed to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

And then, he pulled the trigger.

And in that instant, I was no more.

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Frank's POV...

I couldn't let him live on. I love him too much. If the police cam in here and got him, they'd save him and he'd be locked up.

I had to. I had to. I had to. I had to.

I had to kill him, for his own good.

The shrieks of the women around me grew louder as I gripped Gerard's body to my chest and began to sob harder, if possible. And then, I gripped the gun that had taken Gerard's life (I had to) and brought it to my own forehead.

Screams surrounded me, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

By God, I was NOT about to go to jail and live on without my Gerard.

I placed my index finger on the trigger, and squeezed.

/Nothing happened/.

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A/N- It's unfortunately my bedtime. So, now, I leave you at a cliff hanger. I ALREADY like this better. Tell me what you all think. One or two more chapters after this. REVIEW!!!! (I'm very insecure. I need feedback.)