Frank's hand almost felt as if it'd snap mine in half as he led me away. One of his hands clutched mine as his arm wrapped around my shoulders while the other dug for his keys in the depths of his pockets. The way his eyes were darting around every second it appeared as if he were some wanted crimin-- Oh. Right. I suppose we could be.

Now that my tasks of crocodile tears and false distress were behind me, the full force of the night hit me like a freight train. I still forced myself to stand tall, not leaning into Frank's protective embrace, while my mind spun like a carnival ferris-wheel with the speed switch broken. I didn't want him to catch on as the panicked thoughts began to consume me so I climbed into his car without question. Maybe that only alerted him more because as I sat down and belted in without a fuss he quit glancing around us and really examined at me. I gave him a withering look, as if I were annoyed weith him somehow, and he gave the ghost of a smirk before driving off. I was half sure I slept or that his car was a time-traveling machine because before I could blink I found myself parked outside my house.

It felt odd to me that, after so much had changed in my life so fast, this place looked just as it had my entire life. Frank's voice cut into my inner monologue, "I texted her earlier saying I took you to dinner. You're covered."

Oh, he thought that was what was bothering me. "Thanks." My voice wasn't hoarse or choked, it came to my ears in a detached way, as if it didn't belong to me at all. I put my hand on the handle but he stopped me.

"Wait, she has no idea about tonight," I gave him a confused look. "Don't you think she'll find it odd you have blood all over you?"

"Shit." I muttered, running a hand down my face in an exhausted manner.

"Here," Frank reached into the back seat and pulled free a black hoodie with gray stripes wrapping around the sleeves, offering it to me. "Take this."

I began to protest but to be honest I didn't have another option so I slipped the jacket on as best I could in the seat before finally stepping out. I had nothing left to say so I simply nodded at him and closed the door behind me. I heard the car drive the short distance to his house next door and park but I refused to look over at him, afraid I would lose the charade of 'fine' I'd conjured up.

I patted my own pockets but realized I must've forgotten my keys that morning and gave up. Reaching for the spare key behind the planter, I heard a muffled banging sound. Oh God, what if Lucas had come here? What if he had hurt my mom? My fingers shook and wouldn't move fast enough as I jammed the key in and threw the door open with a SLAM. My heart sped up and my footfalls thundered toward the living room, something I regretted immediately because in my haste I was giving away my presence. Too late now, I thought as I reached the dark living room. I flicked on the switched and almost fainted. Again.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" My voice cracked, and despite myself I almost laughed at how ridiculous I must look right now.

"Oh, Lana, you're home early." My mother commented, sitting up on the couch and revealing she'd been on top of my elementary school teacher Ms. Trevor.

"Oh, my God. The world hates me." My voice was drained and detached again as I crossed my arms, tugging Frank's hoodie around myself in an attempt of comfort.

"Hello Lana." Ms. Trevor, like myself, was red as a tomato as she sat up as well. She redid the top buttons of her blouse and tried to pat down her wild sex hair.

"I'm going to my room. Then I'm going to gouge my eyes out. Goodnight." With wide eyes I turned on my heel and began the trip to my room.

My mother's voice carried as she spoke behind me, "She can be so dramatic... No, it's fine, we'll just have to keep it down." Her words, followed by a girlish giggle, made me regret leaving the nice peaceful world of fainting over a lady's death and what appeared to be a three way between myself and two grown men. Yeah, that was a piece of cake in comparison to this.

Upon reaching my room I locked the door and ransacked my drawers for the softest, comfiest pajamas I owned. I needed it. I found a pair of fluffy PJ pants with snow flakes on them and a t-shirt that I'd won at the local fair for surviving the dunk-tank my mother ha talked me into with the promise 'It'll be fun!' Both were two sizes too large: Perfect.

I left Frank's hoodie on my bed and stripped. The bloody clothes were shoved into the bottom of my hamper, beneath a pile of other clothes, and just as I began to re-dress I heard a tapping on my window. I threw on the shirt and rushed over but, of course, there was nothing there. I felt stupid but I could've sworn... Oh well. I slipped on the pants and, after slumping onto my bed, the hoodie as well. It smelt like him, cigarettes and a cinnomen-y spice that reminded me of baking gingerbread men with my mom when I was little.

I pulled the hood up over my head, wanting to feel yet more encompassed by the scent, when I heard another thump downstairs. Ugh, I didn't want to imagine what that was. As I sat there I began to feel like eyes were watching me, dozens of pairs, clocking my every move. I tried to make my breathing shallow, my body frozen still, and my eyes unblinking until they stung. The feeling wouldn't go away, only growing, until I felt I couldn't even breathe at all. Part of me knew it was ridiculous, as it was now nearing 1:35 in the morning, but that part wasn't as loud as the one telling me I was about to die.

My breaths were short, choppy pants and I couldn't get enough oxygen to my brain. I felt lightheaded, my heart speeding so fast I was sure it'd jump out of my chest altogether, and I tried to stand. Swaying, I blinked back tears, trying to figure out how to get out of this constricting room and suffocating house.

I just wanted air. I used the sleeves of Frank's jacket to mop up my tears before trying to pry open the window. My fingers were bloody by the time I got it unlocked and opened. I gulped at the open air but I couldn't get enough and before I even realized what I was doing I'd climbed out my window, down a trellis, and onto the grass below. I almost collapsed but fought to keep myself calm. Where could I go? Lucas could be anywhere. Or worse, the cops! What if they had surveillance around here? What if they knew the truth?! I didn't have time to just stand around and my feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they carried me across the lawn toward a front door I knew all too well.

I froze, not sure why I was even here, much less what I planned to do. Knock, Lana, obviously. Stop being stupid. So I did, I knocked. Instantaneously I regretted it, what did I expect him to do? Coddle me? Never had Frank acted in a way that would make me think he could fix this but I couldn't turn back now. Maybe I should just run. But as I turned to do so the world tipped on its side and I felt like I would puke. I slumped against his door, sliding down to sit on the welcome mat, and heard noises from inside. There were various bangs and clunks, followed by a string of expletives, and only then did I realize it had to be past two in the morning.

The knob turned and I was thinking harder about the fact that he really shouldn't open the door in the middle of the night without knowing who was outside than my placement. Which meant that as he swung the door open I fell straight back, looking up at him with my head between his feet. We both stayed still, processing the position we were in, but I broke it by turning on my side and curling into myself, desperate to feel close to something.

"Lana, what the fuck?" His voice was thick with sleep and in the midst of my shaking breaths I decided I really liked the husky, groggy sound. He bent down on his knees, looking at me closer, before he seemed to notice I was close to blacking out. "Oh God. C'mon."

But he didn't ask me to leave or move at all really, instead scooping me up from the ground and holding me like a child as he kicked the door shut. My face was buried into his bare chest, knowing that if I opened my eyes I'd be sick, but I felt as if we were ascending a flight of stairs. Before I even registered what was happening I felt my back caressed by a soft mattress and duvet. I was on his bed. Holy shit. What the hell am I doing? But it was useless to worry, I was too drained to think.

"What happened, Lana?" His voice was still lower than its usual pitch but he sounded more alert and... if I didn't know any better I'd say he sounded concerned. He sat beside where I lay, not at all in a sexual way, and his tattooed hand brushed back the hood and hair around my face. "So help me God, if Lucas came anywhere near you--"

"I-- I..." But the words wouldn't leave my throat as my teeth began to chatter a little, as though I were in subzero weather. I shook my head, telling him I couldn't tell him. He seemed to get it, sighing before speaking.

"You can stay in here tonight." With that he stood, shocking me, and tugged at the loose string in the waistband of his sweatpants. Hm, I thought he'd be the type to sleep naked. He noticed my surprised and confused expression, answering me while rolling his eyes, "I'm just going to be downstairs." He bent over to pull the duvet over me and lingered, his lips pressing to my forehead before he retreated to the door, "Goodnight."

I couldn't reply but he didn't wait for one anyway. He just disappeared down the stairs. I was shell shocked, he had every opportunity to try to make a move in my distressed state but... he didn't. There was a tiny voice telling me maybe I was disappointed but that voice was stupid and I ignored it. Too keyed up to sleep, and too intoxicated by Frank's scent as I lay in his bed, I fought to concentrate on my breathing. I'm safe, Frank is protecting the door, I'm fine. I'm okay.

I heard a TV switched on below and just like that, knowing I wasn't alone, I could see straight again. Still I felt fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins, and decided to take advantage of the fact that I was in Frank Iero's bedroom. I stood up, keeping his hoodie on but letting the blanket fall off, and began to look around. It was dark but his room had a window that allowed in a good amount of moonlight, letting me see things better as my eyes adjusted. It was nice, clean and organized, but totally unlike I'd imagined. I saw a guitar propped against the closet door and a few posters of bands I'd never heard of littering the walls but otherwise it looked like something out of a showroom.

In that moment, I felt bad for him. All alone in this house, no one to share that time with, and a tiny bit of his apparent infatuation with toying with me made sense. A tiny, itty bitty, very small bit. The walls were painted a gray hue with an olive cast to it, reminding me of his eyes, wait what? When did I notice his eyes?

I refocused my mind, my own eyes now trailing over a stack of papers on his desk, that appeared to be mail of some sort, and landing on his opened laptop. It was locked with a password though, dammit. I tried his name, his last name, and 'password1' but to no avail. I gave up, moving on to the dresser that sat opposite the window and bed. It had five drawers and I counted it out in my head: socks and underwear, shirts, jeans, sweats and other comfy clothes, and a drawer of random junk. I was tempted to raid his underwear drawer as I still suspected he'd done to me on the day of our first encounter, but something in the Junk Drawer caught my eye.

No way in Hell. Amidst crumbled papers and what looked like wires to replace guitar strings --I obviously haven't been taught that much about the instrument but it wasn't all my fault-- sat my make up bag. Why would he want a girl's make up bag? Panties I sort of understood (not really, I mean I didn't really want to cuddle any of his boxers, but it seemed that it was a guy thing) but a make up bag?

Then it dawned on me: the love bite. Him marking his territory. That little fucker stole my cover up so I couldn't hide it. I felt anger flare within me like a fire, I grabbed the thing and began to stomp down the stairs, though my feet were still quite unsteady. When I stormed into the living room, however, I forgot entirely why I'd come down. A bluish glow illuminating his features from the flickering TV, lay a slumbering Mr. Iero.

His pierced lips were open a bit in a sleepy pout and his legs were a little cramped up on the small loveseat, I felt guilty for having taken his bed. He seemed younger now, his face free of jealous glares or superior smirks, and without planning to I found myself drawn toward him. My hands were like ice but I couldn't resist reaching one out and touching his hair, it moved like rich silk through my fingers. In his sleep Frank leant further back against the cushions and I dropped the insignificant bag on the coffee table, overwhelmed once again by the desperate need for comfort. If it'd been a few weeks ago I would've just hugged my mom because, let's face it, mom hugs are the best. But now there was another who I wanted to wrap my arms around and sob. I knew that my life was forever changed because no matter what no one other than Frank, and Mr. Way, would ever be able to get me. There's something about witnessing a death and covering it up together that seals your fate of never being able to be fully understood by outsiders.

I carefully peeled back the brown fleece blanket he used as a comforter and slipped beneath it, my back to his chest, before pulling it over us both. He was warm and through the fabric of my shirt, the only barrier between his skin and mine, I felt his heart beat and his muscles move and his stomach shift as he breathed warm air against the back of my neck. As if by instinct, his arm fell over my waist and pulled me closer, though his breathing never changed and his eyes never opened, and I knew that I could finally breath steady here. I took the first gulp of air I'd felt truly reach my lungs since Frank had drug me toward the nurse's office, and my eyes felt heavy.

Letting myself fall toward the abyss of sleep, I heard a little snore behind me and smirked before losing consciousness altogether.

Notes

MatiMarie here! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was something I'd had in my head and wanted to write for a while!

So, what do you think about Lana's paranoia? Is she overreacting or hamve good reason? And what do you think about Frank here? Is he being kind or pulling away? Lastly, tell us what your favorite MCR interview to watch?

xx MM