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Gerard Way: Serial Killer

Chapter Six.


A knock on my door was the only thing that made me come to my senses. I was slouched on the sofa, mindlessly staring at the screen as a badass action movie played. I've been in this position for such a long time, everything is numb.
It was 12:54pm on Saturday, November 2. I've been in the same exact spot since I took care of the girl's body. The voices had dissapated by the time I had stopped crying by the bedside. I haven't eaten or drank anything for a full day. And I wasn't even hungry or thirsty.
I knew it was Frank who was at the door. I had hardly been visiting him. When I did, it was at the cafè for a few minute chat when I had break. I was avoiding him subconciously. Also, at one point I might've accidentally told him where I lived, so here he was. Coming to check on me.
Frank knocked again, only louder this time.
"Gerard, open up. Tell me what's going on," he said sternly.
I sighed and stood up, wincing because my feet were numb. I stumbled painfully over to the door- I'd stepped on a couple pieces of glass when I cleaned up the wreckage, so along with my hands, my feet were bandaged, too- and turned the knob slowly, dreading my meeting with Frank.
He was standing in the doorway, wringing his hands worridly. He saw me and smiled.
"May I come in?" He asked. I sighed and motioned for him to step inside. He did and stood in front of me, looking me up and down, taking his shoes off. His jaw dropped slightly.
"What happened to you? You look more like a skeleton now than at the party!" Frank observed.
I just grunted and flopped back onto the couch. He sat to my left, the cushion shifting as he sat. I could feel how horrible I looked.
"Uh, you still mad at me? From when I was drunk? Gerard, I already apologized.."
I shook my head. I wasn't mad at him. I was mad at me.
"Talk to me. Tell me why you're all... bandaged."
I groaned and looked at him, straight in the eyes.
"Okay," I croaked, vocal chords grinding, "When you kissed me, uh, I fled and started hearing voices. I have not heard those voices for a long, long time, Frank. They controlled me. They used me like a puppet- I broke shit-" I flaunted my bandages, "Including my coffee pot. And I murdered someone. A young, young teenager. Like, fourteen Frank. Four. Teen," my voice cracked and tears welled in my eyes. My bandaged hands came up to cover my face, heels of my palms digging into my eye sockets.
Frank just embraced me, acting like he understood. "It's okay."
I shoved him off of me, a ruffled look on my face. "It's not okay! I killed someone nine years younger than me- and I didn't even do it- the voices did! I kissed my only friend, and I am going to have to move soon, anyway."
Frank looked offended, hurt playing at his perfect features, but he brushed it off. "Gerard, man, I'm here for you. I'm your friend." He hugged me, but this time I smashed into him, wrapping my arms around him, and melted into his embrace, sending him flat onto the couch on his back. He grunted out of surprise as my weight was forced upon him. I buried my face into the space between his neck and his shoulder, quiet sobs shaking my body. He rested his head against mine.
He patted my back and just layed there patiently until I sat up on top of him, wiping my eyes and nose.
"Uh- Gerard? Y-You're, uh.." Frank groaned. I looked down and noticed I was full on straddling his hips. It was making him feel awkward.
I laughed, taking advantage of our postion. "Is this making you- uncomfortable?" I shifted my hips slightly, causing me to rub up against him. He squirmed, unsettled. He gripped the couch in his fists.
"Um yeah.. it would be GREAT if you could- urgh- s-stop doing that!" He was blushing crazily, trying to wiggle out from under me. I shifted again and laughed even more, enjoying making my friend embarrassed. He kicked his legs a bit.
"What, is little Frankie turned on by a little.. contact?"
His eyes were wide. "You- you don't understand-" he started, but I shifted my hips on his for a third time and he let out a small moan, surprising me. He snapped his mouth shut, ashamed. The weird, chemical, fluttery feeling flared up in my lower stomach.
"Gerard- I would fucking hit you, but you're hurt and- ugh!- sad.." he stammered, embarrassed past his wits, still struggling to get out from underneath me.
I giggled and stood up off of him, relieving him of his.. sensations. He sat up immediately with his legs crossed.
The fluttery feeling raged on inside of me.
Oh wow. I knew what was going on inside of me. Why did it take me so long to realize? That chemical/burning/fluttery feeling was attraction. I, serial killer Gerard Way, was attracted to Frank Iero.
And I have quite a large hunch he likes me back.
I guess it's okay. I mean, he already knows all of my secrets. What's one more? I'm just going to simply state how I feel. I sat down on the couch next to him, only I faced towards him, cross-legged. He followed the same criteria, hands resting in his lap. I raised an eyebrow at that, and he just gave me the deathglare, his eyes saying "You know what you did".
"Uh, Frank, you know we're friends, right?" I started uneasily. Aw, fuck. How am I supposed to tell him?
"Yes, Gerard, how many times are you gonna ask?"
I rolled my eyes, continuing. "Well, I um. Uh, I think that I like you. Like, more than a friend, like, I like like you.." I dumbly spit out, trying to get my point across. I just stared into my lap, trying to hide my embarassment. I put my head in my hands. That was an asshat move; trying to tell him. Ugh, I'm better off dead than alive with a crush.
There was silence. Frank's mouth was probably hanging wide open. He was probably preparing to walk out the door and never see me again. I wouldn't be surprised; if an ugly, creepy, secluded, pale, murderous man asked me out I'd probably leave, too.
But he didn't.
I felt a finger place itself lightly on my chin. It lifted my face to tilt upwards, forcing me to look straight into Frank's eyes. My insides were burning up, lips intent on making contact with his.
He smiled the most adorable smile ever imaginable. His hand slid up to cup my cheek and pulled my face towards his. I tilted my head to the side as he did and slowly, nicely kissed him, lightning racing from his lips to mine and back again. Wow, his lips were as soft as I'd imagined. And he was a pretty good kisser, espescially since he's not drunk this time. Our lips moved in perfect rythmn, as if they were dancing, until we pulled back, lungs screaming for air, my hand still tangled in his now messy black hair. I let my hand drop, fingers lightly skimming his cheek, managing to keep eye contact. His hand removed itself from my cheek.
This is my first time, actually kissing someone who isn't intoxicated. Frank is my first and second kiss. And I want him to be my last. We just sat there contendedly, exploring each other's facial expressions, one trying to tell if the other had enjoyed the kiss.
At that exact silent, comfortable moment, my stomach growled louder than a fucking train horn. Frank gazed at me seriously. "When's the last time you've eaten?"
"Uh, on Halloween, at 1:20, during lunch break."
His eyes widened in disbelief. "Gerard, that was two goddamn days ago! You need to eat something." He stood up defiantly, determined to get something into my stomach.
I growled at him, baring my teeth. I uncrossed my legs and stood up on the couch cushion that I had previously been seated on, Frank curiously staring up at me, waiting for my next move. I carefully stepped from the couch to the coffee table to a stool in the kitchen to on top of the kitchen counter. I crouched down Gollum style and glared at Frank from on top of the counter.
He giggled at me, beginning to make his way over to me. "Get down from there, you fucktard. Do you always act like this?"
I remarked with a hiss, but then stated bluntly: "The floor is lava."
He stood next to the counter, leaning on it with one arm. I crawled over to him and brushed some of my red locks of grimy, unclean hair in front of my eyes for full effect and growled like a cornered animal: "My precious."
"C'mon, dude. You don't even look like Gollum. First off, he's like, a midget, plus he's naked.." he trailed off as I perked up and raised an eyebrow.
"So, you are implying that if I chop my legs off and undress, I would better represent him?"
Frank nodded sarcastically. I stood up and started to undo my belt jokingly, but stopped when I realized that being pantsless would be embarrassing and walked across the counter to the cabinet with food in it. I pulled out a box of shitty generic granola bars and chucked it at Frank. He caught it clumsily, almost dropping it.
"There. If I eat some of those and drink some water, will you let me off the hook?" I pleaded, making a face that I hoped was adorably convincing.
He sighed, sitting down on one of the stools. "All right, dude, whatever floats your boat."
I clapped excitedly like a seal and crawled yet again across the dingy countertop over to him and my lunch.
"I'd make coffe, but I broke the pot. Oh, shit. Now I can't have coffee in the morning, unless I purchase a replacement, but I'm piss poor.." I wondered out loud after asking Frank for the box of granola bars so I could open it.
"You can just come to my place in the morning for coffee," he casually invited, taking the granola bar I offered to him.
"Really, you'd let me- an insane, sleep-deprived, emotionally unstable serial killer into your apartment at 8:00 in the morning... for coffee?" I quizzed, tearing open a granola bar.
He winked, unwrapping his snack and popping it into his mouth. "Or anything ELSE you desire."
I bit my lip to prevent myeslf from blurting a perverted comment.
"What?" He faced me, noticing my sudden hush.
I stuffed the unwrapped food item into my mouth and smiled at him, feigning innocence. He just raised an eyebrow and chewed his food.
After eight seconds of chewing, he got up off of his stool to throw the granola bar wrapper away. I handed him mine so I wouldn't have to get up.
Three-fourths of the way there, he yelled "Ow, shit! The fuck is.."
He picked up his foot to inspect the damage, ripping off his sock. I stood up and rushed over to him to help him maintain his balance as he wobbled on one foot.
His foot was bleeding profusely. There was quite a large chunk of clear glass embedded in the middle of it.
I flashed him a worried look. "Here, come with me." Frank placed his arm around my shoulder and hobbled out of the kitchen and down the dark hallway into the bathroom with me by his side. I flicked on the light and instructed him to sit his ass down on the toilet. He set the lid down and sat, cradling his injured foot, as I rummaged the cabinet for some wrap. I'd used some earlier, like two days ago, so it wouldn't be that hard to find. I saw the small green and white box and snatched it from the shelf.
I shuffled over to the hurt boy on the toilet and let the box slip from my grasp and fall onto the floor. I kneeled in front of him.
"Lemme see your foot," I said. He graciously swung his foot towards me. I gripped it gingerly in one hand and poised my other hand above the shard of glass.
"This will only hurt for approximately four seconds," I assured him, and he just winced, preparing for the pain to ensue.
One. I pinched the glass inbetween my index finger and my thumb.
Two. I tugged lightly upwards, assessing how deep the glass was and how hard I'd have to pull to get it out.
Three. I forcefully jerked my arm upwards, yanking out the chunk, spats of blood flicking into the air.
Four. Frank cursed quite loudly.
"FUCK!" His hands went directly to his foot, attempting to nurse the pain away. I slapped his hands away.
"Don't you dare touch it. We need to cleanse the wound first," I explained, "Roll up your pantleg so we don't get it wet and stick your foot in the tub."
He used me as a crutch to walk over to the off-white bathtub and sat on the ledge. He reached down to roll up his pantleg, but he failed to because his jeans were maybe a little too skinny.
"Goddamnit, Frank. You're bleeding out into a tub all because you can't pull up your tight ass pantleg."
"Sorry my style is getting in the way of my health," he snorted. I just chuckled and rolled up his pantleg for him with difficulty.
I pushed the warm-water handle down, the water flowing messily out of the pipe.
I pulled Frank's foot under the spray, the water collecting in the tub tinted pink from the blood.
"Ow... urrgh.." Frank growled, the hot water obviously causing discomfort. I flashed him a stern glare, silencing his whines.
Frank just grit his teeth until I turned the water off and dried his foot while he sat on the toilet, me getting some of his blood on the towel in the process.
I kneeled in front of him and skillfully wrapped his wounded foot. As I was securing the wrap, he planted a quick kiss on the top of my head.
"Ew, what the fuck Frank?" I grimaced at him, and he just blushed and looked down into his lap, lips parting to say something, but I finished before he could start. "I can't even remember the last time I took a shower."
He just giggled, glad I wasn't angry at him for kissing me.
Why would I be mad if the most attractive human to exist ever just kissed me on the head?



i have a feeling this story hasn't been updated in years. and it sucks because this is my new faveorite fanfic.

Moonmagick98 Moonmagick98

Are you still here? This is AMAZING!

Author, you amazing! Oh, i need an update


Grrr I need an update sooon