The Light Behind His Eyes (Frerard)

I really think I should take back what I said earlier about being better off in prison than living out in the streets. Being here behind bars is not as bad as being homeless--no, it’s worse...in fact, much worse. Sure, you have free food, shelter, and healthcare here, but none of that doesn’t even come close to making up for all the terrible things about being in this godforsaken place with a bunch of child molesters, terrorists, and serial killers. I don’t think I’ve been forced to defend myself against big-shots that wanna pick a fight with me this much (or much worse in the shower rooms. After all, everyone knows what guys do to pretty boys like me in prison). If that place is an armpit, then this prison in New Jersey is a giant shithole, filled with nothing but...well, shit. Seriously, I can’t remember how many months it’s been that I’ve been here (many though, that’s for sure), but I’m stunned that I’ve managed to not get myself killed here, considering the people I’ve been surrounded by all this time. It’s sad though, because I think I’d be better off dead than living here with dangerous sub-human scum. It’s not like I’m better than any of these people, though. After all, I’m the one that helped enable a serial killer’s plot for bloody revenge. I’m also a bloodlusting maniac just like him. I took pleasure in watching someone die. We almost killed said serial killer’s younger brother, too. I also tried protecting Gerard from the police and tried fighting them off, and because of all these acts, especially the one of helping Gerard kill and cover up the murder of Irvine Bagninski, as well as helping Gerard hide from “the Authorities” (or just the police, really), I’ve earned myself a sentence here in this rotten shithole--fifteen years in prison, with an eligibility for parole after the first four years.
I can barely remember anything prior to me being sent to New Jersey State Prison. I can barely even remember the fucking trial. I don’t know a single thing I said, or who exactly was there; I don’t even know if my parents were there to see their heathen of a son be sentenced, their eyes full of disappointment and discontent for the failure they brought into this world. I do remember what I was convicted of of course, as well as my verdict, but I don’t know a single word I uttered when I was on the stand. I don’t remember if I saw Gerard there either. Everything was nothing but a blur to me, soon to be stored into a very deep part of my mind where I’ll never be able to find the memory to view it in it’s full details. If Gerard was there, then it would’ve been the last time I’ll ever be able to see him again. If he wasn’t, then my last memory with him would have been that horrid day he was snatched away from me, calling out my name. All this time sitting in my cell, lying in bed, I couldn’t help but think and try my damndest to remember if I saw his face at the trial. If he was there, where was he sitting? What was he wearing? How did he act? Was he angry? Scared? Sad? I’d give up anything to see if he was there in front of me or not. I’d also give up anything in the world to see his face again, even though I know that’ll never happen no matter what. It’s likely a one in a trillion chance that he’s here in this hell on earth, rotting away in his cell like me. He’s probably back in Trenton State Hospital or some other maximum security mental institution, locked away to never see the light of day ever again. Wherever he may be, I know he’s still hurting. He’s hurting because he’s still broken...and I failed my mission to fix him.
“Frank? Wake up, man. You’re gonna miss breakfast,” my cellmate Pete said, lightly shaking me awake. Not at all having an appetite for the bland and not-so-plentiful so-called “food” we’re all served here at this penitentiary, I shifted in my cinderblock of a bottom bunk bed away from Pete, wishing he’d just go away and let me sleep in already. It’s not like any day has been all that appealing for me to wake up to anyway. It’s just the same shit every day--wake up, eat breakfast, get beaten up by fellow inmates, each lunch, get beaten up again, almost get raped by that one creepy guy Davey that stares at me weirdly in the shower room, eat dinner, get beaten up and molested by Davey and some other perverts some more, and go to bed. Yeah, I think I’ll pass on all that. I’d rather be in bed, as uncomfortable as this sad excuse of a bed may be.
“Leave me alone, Pete,” I mumbled, praying in the back of my mind that he’ll do as I say for once. “I’ll wake up when I want to,”
“C’mon man,” he whined, shaking me some more. “I don’t want you to get busted again. You know the rule about meals. You have to be outta your cell for them...or it’s back to the Box for you,”
Oh, no. Oh, fuck no. Why did you have to remind me of that, Pete? Not the Box. Anything but the fucking Box!
Of course I should have known the consequences of failing to show up to meals. It’s the policy of this goddamn place that if an inmate doesn’t show up to the mess hall by the time meals are being passed out, it’s to the Box they go. The Box is what we all like to call it instead of solitary confinement in order to make it sound a little less scary, I guess. I dunno, that’s what everyone calls it here, really. I remember the last time I was in the Box...and my god, was it horrible. If there’s a hell, then believe me, I’ve seen it, and it comes in the form of a small padded cell that’s as dark as my past prior to coming to this fucking jailhouse (yeah, if that doesn’t sound emo enough, then what the hell does?). It’s a place that’s so dark that I think it knocks Gerard’s basement right out of the park. I can’t remember how long I was in there. Maybe a few hours? A few days? Hell, maybe even a few weeks! It’s a darkness I know I’ll never forget seeing, as much as I wish to have it wiped from my tainted memory. The only thing I could remember feeling was my own cold and shaking body that was curled up in the corner, begging for even the slightest hint of warmth. And, the only thing I remembered hearing were my own internal screams, begging to either get out of the goddamned place or fucking die already, whichever came first. I remember crying so much, begging to be held. I’ve never felt so alone and scared in my whole fucking life. It felt so much worse than being cold and alone in the streets, because at least out there, you were out in the public eye. You weren’t alone where no one could see or hear you screaming. It was all so profound that it scared me to fucking death. I just wanted someone to hold me and tell me it’s okay, that sooner or later I’d be out of this dark hell and back in the real world, as bitter as it is. Who was I begging to hold me, though? I don’t think it was just anyone. Deep down in the depths of my mind, I wanted a specific someone to hold me and to reassure me and shower me with kisses. I wanted the man that gave me a reason to keep living to be with me to fight off the crippling dark that was making me go insane. I wanted him there with me in that dark cell til the very end, and goddamnit, I still want him right here with me.
I know for a fact I can’t afford to skip a meal again, otherwise I know damn well where I’ll be thrown into, and there’s no way in hell I wanna go back there. Damn it, Pete. You win again. I’ll wake up. I have no other choice but to do so, unless I wanna starve and lose my fucking mind again in the complete blinding darkness inside a cramped and padded cell.
“Alright, fine,” I moaned, rubbing my tired eyes as I sat up in bed. I opened them up to see my cellmate, Pete Wentz, smiling at me in a friendly manner. I think it’s safe to say that I’m blessed to have him as a cellmate rather than some maniac that would wanna try to rape or kill me at any given moment he’s got. Pete’s a tall skinny guy that’s got styled black hair with faded red streaks in it; clearly not the murderous type like...oh, I dunno, Gerard Way, or me? He’s never really specified to me what his crimes were that landed him here, as well as his sentence, but it’s a pretty taboo thing to do to openly talk about all that in this place for some reason. I don’t really think I have a hard time seeing why that is. After all, I wouldn’t be so casual and okay with going on about how I helped my serial killer of a boyfriend kill someone.
“How’d you sleep, man?” Pete asked.
“Shitty, what do you think?” I said, not at all likely looking close to well-rested from the many times I’ve had to toss and turn in bed to get comfortable in my rock-hard bed. “And you?”
“I feel ya,” Pete frowned. “Ready to go down to the mess hall? We’ll meet up with Tyler and Josh,”
“Sure, let’s go,” I replied, standing up from my bed and taking a long stretch. Here we go, yet another day in the living hell that is New Jersey State Prison. I am not fucking thrilled at all for this. Together, Pete and I walked out of our cell and made our way downstairs to the mess hall, where more men in their orange jumpsuits gathered around the lunch line and tables to eat their hearty, manufactured breakfast. We got in line, waiting for the lunch ladies to give us our serving of “food” for the morning. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, we got to the end of the line where one of the overworked, hair-netted ladies stood, shoving my meal on a tray to me. Today it’s stale waffles, plastic scrambled eggs, and overcooked bacon.
“Come on, Frank,” Pete called out, walking ahead of me with his tray. “I got a table for us. Tyler and Josh saved spots for us!”
“Alright, I’m coming--”
Wait a minute. Something feels...odd. Of course this place feels odd, though. It’s a prison, for god’s sake! But this is a new feeling, like a rush of nostalgia. It’s that same feeling I got when I met up with Ray at that bar all those months ago, and it’s as strong as ever. It’s so strong it’s making my head spin. There’s someone familiar here in this place. I can feel it. Is it true though, or am I just going crazy from all the time I’ve spent here in this godforsaken place? No. I can’t be going crazy. Someone I know is here...but who--
“Move outta the way!” A sudden voice of a man bellowed, his big and beefy hand shoving me over and nearly making me spill my food all over the place. Already annoyed with how my shitty day is going, I looked up to see who the hell was so goddamn rude to--
Wait a minute. I’ve seen this man before, somewhere in the news I think. He’s a really tall and big guy, almost like a giant. He’s got a long brown beard that looks like it hasn’t been kempt since Christmas...from like five years ago! He’s also got tattoos all over his arms, all of them looking like he got them done in someone’s garage rather than a professional tattoo parlor. What’s his name? I’ve seen that face, but can’t quite put my finger on the name of this asshole that just shoved me. I looked at his I.D tag on the right bosom of his jumpsuit--
Cecil Jones.
Oh god...it’s the other man Gerard has been looking for! He’s here in this fucking place with me. This guy is the final man on Gerard’s revenge kill list, and he’s right fucking in front of me--
“Yoo-hoo, Frank? Earth to Frank?” Pete said suddenly, waving his hand out in front of my stunned face. “You okay, man? Looks like you spaced out,”
“Y-yeah...sorry about that. I’m coming,” I gulped, barely able to believe what I just saw. That feeling I started to get is still inside me though, eating me alive. Cecil was not the guy that feeling was bugging me about. There’s still someone else here that I know. I know this because when I had that same feeling at the bar when I met up with Ray/Ramona, it went away almost immediately, indicating that I found that special person my mind was telling me to look out for. I still gotta look for this special guy that I know is here. I can feel his presence near me, almost like he’s in this room. Where the fuck is he, though? As the thought continued to consume me whole, Pete and I walked over to a table towards the back of the mess hall, where two quiet fellows of ours, Tyler Joseph and Josh Dunn, were waiting for us with their food trays in front of them. They both smiled and nodded, welcoming us in their company like they always do every morning.
“Hey guys, good morning,” Pete said as we both sat down across from them, the both of them replying with a nod, not uttering a word like the usual. Something tells me that the reason they seldom speak is because of the fact that they’re pretty much like brothers always at each other’s side, and that they’re partners in crime. If what they did is the reason why they stopped talking, then I must say, what they’ve done must’ve been extremely heinous. No matter, though. At least they’re both nice enough to give us coverage from the many scumbags here that are always looking for a fight with anyone that’s unfortunate enough to fall into their vicious path. Wandering around this place alone is like suicide. You gotta travel in packs in order to survive living in this place. I learned that the hard way when I first got here. It’s a miracle I survived getting beaten to a bloody pulp.
As I started to take a bite of my burnt bacon, that feeling from before came full-force at me, making my head throb. I dropped my food and put my hands on my head, unable to bear any of this any longer. It hurts so bad that I feel like my head’s gonna explode, the contents of my cranium splattering all over Pete, Tyler, and Josh. They all turned to me, giving me a concerned look and trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me.
Alright, that’s it! I’ve had enough! I can’t take it anymore! Who are you? Where the fuck are you? Come out wherever you are so I can see you! Please come out and help this fucking thing in my head go away before I explode! Who are you, and where are you? Just show me already, goddamnit--
Everything around me was put on pause when I turned around and looked over at the lone man sitting at a table in the far corner of the room. He’s sitting there with his head hanging down, not at all touching his tray. Why’s he all alone, though? Doesn’t he know that that will earn him a beating from one of the bully inmates around here. After all, many of them are too cowardly to hunt for people that are in packs. People that are alone is exactly what they prey upon. Who is this fool? I can’t see his pale face all that well through his long messy black hair--
Wait a minute...is that...who I think it is? No, it can’t be…
Is this the man my mind been telling me to find?
No…
No….Yes….
Yes, it is...and oh, how have I missed him dearly!
It’s Gerard!
Oh my god...is this for real? Is Gerard, the man I love and missed so much, really right in front of me at that table? Am I fucking dreaming? I’ve gotta be. This is just all too good to be true. I thought that Gerard was gone forever, never to be seen again in the public eye, including me. I need to make sure it’s him. I need to make sure this is all really happening. My mind could be screwing with me, after all. It’s shocking what your brain will do to you when you’re in a place like this. I stood up from my seat, excusing myself as I began to walk over to the guy that might really be the man that used to call me his sugar pop, his baby, his sunshine that’s been taken away from him on that dreadful day. I am far from prepared, though. I can’t breathe right. I am shaking and sweating and I can barely utter a word.
“G-gerard…?” I said his name quietly, walking up to next to him as he sat with his head still down. “G-gerard...is th-that y-you?”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge who’s trying to address him. Maybe he didn’t hear me? I hope that’s the case. I was awfully quiet that time since I can barely get myself to fucking speak. I need to let him know his sugar pop is here for him. I need to let him know his sunshine has no longer been taken away from him!
“G-gerard...it’s me, Frankie,” I said, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his stiff shoulder, only for him to do nothing. He didn’t even budge an inch. He continued to sit there still as a statue, clearly off in his own little world with his hair still obscuring his beautiful face--
He suddenly shot his head up, staring straight at me with his hair unveiling that face of his he’s been hiding. When I saw it, I just about lost it. That face of his has changed so much. It’s changed so much that...it’s back to way it used to be, skin all bruised and eyes vacant. It’s the same face I saw the first day I met him in that basement when he was all alone and without anyone to love, when he was so broken and hurting in his own dark world. In fact, he looks even worse than that, actually. I can see that he’s really, really abused himself in all the time we’ve been separated from each other. His hair is so much of a mess that there’s clumps that have been torn out. There’s dark circles around his sad eyes, like someone beat him up and gave him black eyes. That person that beat him up was clearly himself. It’s like he’s seen the gates of hell itself, or has been to a very, very dark place and is now left in ruins. He’s seen a darkness that stared straight back at him, sucking him into it’s depths and spitting him right out. He didn’t even smile when those hazel eyes of his met with mine, which began to water up with hot tears that I know I’ll never shed. He just stared blankly, like he had no idea who the hell is sitting in front of him…
No. That can’t be. He remembers me! He’s gotta remember who I am! Don’t be a fucking idiot, Frank! He’s just shaken, because who the hell wouldn’t be in a place like this? Talk to him! Let him know it’s really you that just called him! Let him know that you still love him to fucking death!
“G-gerard...it’s me, F-frankie!” I said, louder this time. “A-aren’t you gonna...s-say anything? I-I missed you...s-so much!
Nothing. Not even a smile from him. He just continued to stare at me, looking unfazed. It’s like he really doesn’t even know who I am. But how? How the fuck could Gerard forget me? I’ve been a big part of his life, probably the biggest thing to ever happen to him, just like he was for me!
There’s no way in hell he could forget me...it’s impossible! There just cannot be a way that Gerard could not even look at me and not know my name, and what I mean to him! He’s gotta remember me...he just has to…
“G-gerard…,” I choked out, touching his still face as he stared at me with no expression. “D-don’t you...remember me? I’m Frankie...Frank Iero, your baby, your sunshine, your sugar pop, your…,” I stopped, caving in as my tears started to get to the best of me. I cupped my face into my hands and broke down right in front of the motionless Gerard who doesn’t remember me. It’s no use. He doesn’t fucking remember me! Something made him forget all about me, but what the fuck is it? What the hell took away all the memories of us together? That group called the Authorities that he always feared was after him to steal his memories, even though said group doesn’t really fucking exist? Seriously, what the fuck was it that did this to Gerard? I can’t take it anymore. I can’t sit here trying to refresh his memory of someone pathetic like me. It’s fucking futile! It’s--
“Don’t cry, sugar,” a familiar voice said as someone put their hand on my shoulder. I looked up from my tear-drenched hands to find him smiling softly at me through those bruises on his face. “No tears, Frankie...my beautiful sunshine,”
No. I was wrong. He does remember. Gerard remembers who his sunshine is! He remembers me!
“Oh my god...Gerard!” I cupped my hands, trying my damndest to hold back the overwhelming urge to take him into my arms, due to the “no PDA” rule in this goddamn place that the officers strictly enforce. Even a hug will get you written up and possibly sent to the Box. I don’t care, though. I wouldn’t mind going back there if Gerard was with me. At least we’d be together. At least he’d be there to chase the demons in my head away, just like I’ve done for him. Fully surrendering to my tears, I sat there and bawled my eyes out as I sat in front of Gerard, not at all caring that I must look like a big cry baby right now. “Oh, Gerard...I missed you so much! I thought I’d never see you again!”
Staying silent, the smile on Gerard’s face quickly vanished, only to turn to a look of utter shock, like he just witnessed the end of the world. His grip on my shoulder tightened, his nails digging into my skin through the fibers of my shirt. His eyes stayed focused away from me, looking up at someone...or perhaps, no one at all…
“Frankie,” he whispered, his lips quivering. “I...I found him…,”
“Who?” I asked, looking deep into his deeply disturbed eyes. “Who did you--”
“The second man...that...th-that k-killed…,” he paused, his breaths growing tumultuous and full of panic. “D-daddy...and...m-mama,”
Oh, no...I should have known. Of course he found him, because I did too! Why didn’t you catch on to this earlier, Frank? You’re such an idiot! A complete fucking idiot--
“I found him...I finally found him again!” he suddenly said, nearly shouting and smiling in dark, malevolent joy and almost not at all caring who’s in his range of hearing, not even the officers watching over all the prisoners that are below them, like shepherds herding their sheep. “I won’t let him get away this time! I will finally fully achieve my revenge...I will kill him!”
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, barely able to believe what I just heard him say. Gerard actually has tried to kill Cecil once before...and not manage to get himself killed, knowing how much of a giant the guy is compared to five foot nine Gerard? How the hell did all of that really happen? What made Gerard fail his mission to kill Cecil? “Wh-what...what do you mean, Gerard?”
“I...I tried to kill him before,” Gerard said with possibly, and ironically, the biggest smile on his face. “I found him, and tried to strangle the son of a bitch...but I underestimated how strong he was, the bastard…,” he paused, the smile on his face quickly changing to clenched teeth and glaring, furious eyes. “I didn’t kill him that time. The fucking cops separated us before I could choke the cunt, and...they...they…,”
Gerard stopped again, the anger on his face turning to a look of utter anguish and fear, his eyes wide and bulging and his lips quivering again. It really is like he’s just been through the fiery gates of hell and back, or a very dark place…and I think I know exactly what that place is, where you’re trapped with nothing but your own disintegrating, insane mind.
“They did what?” I asked. “What did they do to you?”
“Th-they...t-took me to…,” he gulped. “A v-very dark p-place called...th-the Box,”
I felt my heart skip a beat, as well as my chest constrict. Somehow I knew in the back of my mind he was sent there. There’s nothing in this place that’s as dark and foul as the Box. That’s where Gerard was sent after he was caught trying to kill another inmate...and it’s also where he was left with nothing but his own corrupted, sick mind that always seems to slip away from him. It’s a blessing that Gerard didn’t get killed fighting Cecil...but him being sent to the Box is a fate that’s almost just as devastating. My own mind can just envision poor Gerard sitting there all alone in that abysmally dark padded room, screaming and crying and fighting with the voices in his head as he hurts his precious self, begging for it all to go away. That’s where Gerard was all this time when he was sent here. That is why I haven’t seen him all this time. He was locked up in a very terrible place, probably for a very, very long time…
“Oh my god...they did?” I said, still barely able to grasp the fact that someone as fragile and precious as Gerard was sent to a place so dark and unforgiving. “How long were you there?”
“I don’t know, Frankie. I’ve lost track of time there. I was only here for a few days til I ended up in the Box. I was sent out just a few days ago. I never wanna go back there...I’ve never seen anything so fucking dark, and…,” he stopped, his already wide eyes now nearly bulging outta their sockets. “The voices...they wouldn’t leave me alone! They would never stop screaming and laughing at me until I was finally let out of the Box! I never wanna go back there, Frankie! I just wanna be with you, baby…,”
“I know, Gerard. I do too. I’m happy you’re finally out,” I smiled, trying to comfort the shaken and traumatized Gerard. “I missed you so much. I felt so fucking alone when I was in the Box, too. I never thought I’d be able to get out. I just begged and cried to be with you, and hold me and fight off the darkness...but here we are, Gee. We’re together again. We’re free to be together again...okay, maybe not free, but we’re still together--”
“No, Frankie,” Gerard cut me off, shaking his head woefully. “That’s where you’re wrong,”
“Wh-what?” I gasped, both confused and shocked by what the fuck Gerard just said. “What do you mean--”
Gerard stopped me again mid-sentence, putting his hand back on my shoulder. He slowly leaned in close to me, his skin making contact with mine as his lips passed mine made their way to my ear, opening up his mouth again to tell me something.
“Frankie...you need to come with me. I need to show you something,” he whispered.
“Where?”
“Away from here. We need to hide, where no one can see us...but not too far away from...him,” he said, his voice venomous at the mention of his final enemy that he made an oath to hunt down. He grabbed harder at my arm, ordering me to follow along with him and his unspoken orders. “Come on, let’s go--”
“Wait!” I shoved back, my whole self shuddering at the thought of us leaving unattended, only to lead to us getting caught and sent back to the Box. “We can’t just leave. Do you know how much trouble we’ll get in--”
“Shhh,” Gerard hissed, cutting me off yet again. “Just do as I say and follow me. We will not get caught, I swear. I’ve already done this a handful of times with no problem. I need to show you, and it can’t be seen here. Just please...come with me,”
I guess I really have no choice. I do wanna be with him, and there’s a part of me in my own messed up mind that’s curious to know what Gerard wants to show me. But why does it gotta be close to where Cecil is? I can only hope he’s not planning to do what I think he is, because if that’s unfortunately the case, something tells me it’ll not end well at all. I just wanna be with Gerard, and I want him to be safe, but...I’ve gotta go with him, but if this ends up getting us sent back to the Box...then I guess it’s both our faults, and I was undoubtedly asking for it. Giving in, I got up from my seat and followed Gerard as we snuck away from the officers watching over the sea of prisoners at the tables. Lucky for us (sort of), a fight broke out between a couple of the men, keeping the officers occupied. I dunno, I think it was some fight over waffles, based off what bits and pieces of the argument I heard before it turned into an all-out brawl. I just hope Pete and the others are okay. After escaping from the fight that started to ensue in the mess hall we ran down the hall together and snuck into the janitor’s closet, which was conveniently unlocked. After getting ourselves into the claustrophobically small room that stank of Pine-Sol, I looked up at Gerard, seeing an odd mixture of joy and discontent on his face. He’s not...well, sad or anything. If anything, he looks quite happy...but also scared.
“What is it, Gerard?” I asked. “What did you wanna show me?”
“Here,” Gerard replied, pulling a sharp blade that looks crudely constructed from the materials of someone’s cell. “I made this when I got out of the Box. Done this before when I was in the hospital back in Trenton. This right here helped me escape and bypass a few attendees…,” he paused, a smile of uneasiness and bloodlust slowly growing on his face, his mind losing itself to sheer insanity and malice once again. “I’m gonna use this...to kill him! I’m gonna make sure I accomplish my mission this time. After I finally kill that son of a bitch...it’ll be all over. I won’t be broken anymore! I’ll have my sweet revenge after all these years, Frankie! Daddy and mama will be so happy with me! I’ll be fixed again!”
Oh, no...he really is doing exactly what I don’t want him to do. Gerard is gonna fight Cecil again...and risk getting killed. I can’t let him do this. I don’t care about Gerard’s infatuation for revenge. I care about his safety more than anything. He just can’t throw his life away like this. I need to stop him.
“N-no, Gerard,” I shook my head, my hand tightly grabbing his with the knife, clutching it as I felt my eyes tear up. “You can’t do this. It’s too dangerous. You...you’re gonna get yourself hurt. You could get killed!” Surrendering to my tears yet again, and far from the last time I ever will, I broke down, unable to stop myself from sobbing and crying for my Gee to stay with me.
“Frankie...sugar, don’t cry!” Gerard gasped, as if he had absolutely no idea what he did to upset me. “You should be happy for me! This is what I’ve wanted for so many years! You should be happy I finally get my sweet revenge--”
“I don’t care about that anymore!” I screamed, my voice hoarse choked back by tears. “I care about you, Gerard! You’re suicidal if you’re gonna go out there and try to kill a giant brute like Cecil. He’ll destroy you, Gerard...and I don’t want that to happen to you. I don’t wanna lose you again...because if you do this, I’ll lose you forever! You’ll be gone for good, as good as dead! I wanna be with you, Gerard! I don’t want you to go. I can’t go on without you. I care more about you than your revenge...I fucking love you!”
Breaking down, I buried my face into Gerard’s chest, crying and sobbing and screaming for him to not go. I never want him to let go, just like I know I never will with him. He means my whole life to me. He means the whole world to me...and if he were to die, then what of my world will be left? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“Frankie…,” Gerard whispered, his body left completely shaken and motionless from what I just confessed to him. He looks so stunned, his eyes wide and already pale skin a ghostly white. Maybe, just maybe, I was able to convince and stop him from the foolish thing he wants to do. Maybe this time I was able to save him. Maybe we really can be together.
“Gerard...I love you so much,” I cried, holding on tight to him as I kept my face buried in him. “I never want you to be taken away from me. I don’t want you gone…,”
“Frankie, sugar pop...don’t cry. I’m here,” he said, holding onto me tight and running a hand through my hair, brushing my bangs away from my tear-drenched face.
“Are you...are you sure?” I asked. Gerard didn’t reply, though. He just kept holding on to me as he opened up his mouth again.
“We’ll say goodbye today, and I’m sorry how it ends this way. If you promise not to cry…,” he sang, wiping a tear from my eyes as I continued to do just what he told me not to do. “Then I’ll tell you just what I would say. If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep, never let them take the light behind your eyes. I’ll fail and lose this fight, never fade in the dark, just remember you will always burn as bright…,”
Wait...that song! How could I forget that beautiful song he wrote just for me? It’s a song he sang to me when I was in my darkest times with him, just like now...and in it, he’s saying goodbye to me now. There really is no convincing him, is there? He’s gonna fight Cecil. He’s gonna die...and he’s taking Cecil Jones with him. Now I know what Gerard meant when he said he’ll one day “lose this fight”. He’ll one day die getting the number one thing he’s wanted almost all his life--vengeance. He’s finally gonna get his sweet revenge...and die a happy man that’s still broken, but not in his mad, lightless eyes. In the end, he’ll still be the same. I really have failed. All I can really do now is surrender, and let the tragedy within this sick man that I love dearly unfold.
“Gerard, please...don’t go,” I sobbed, still holding on to him tight for the life of me. I’m not only crying from the beauty of his voice, but of the fact that I’m soon to forever lose Gerard, the man that gave me a million reasons to not be afraid to keep on living. “I’ve lost you once before...and I don’t wanna lose you again! Please! Ple--,”
“Frankie, you never will. You’ll never be without me, even in the end. I swear, ” Gerard sighed, cupping my chin into his hands as he brought my face up to his, which is raw with tears. “There’s something I want you to have...and I don’t want you to open it...until I’m gone,”
“What...what is it?” I asked.
“You’ll soon see, when the time comes,” Gerard said, reaching into the shirt pocket of his orange jumpsuit and pulling out a piece of paper with my name written on it in pen, the handwriting messy. “You promise me you won’t open this up til I’m gone, Frankie? Please tell me promise, sugar,”
Go on, Frankie. Say yes, and take the fucking note. There’s no use fighting it. Gerard will not change his mind. You have failed, Frank. There’s nothing more you can do. Just take the letter...you failure.
Silently, I did just that, taking the note out of Gerard hands and putting it into my pocket, knowing that I’ll protect it with my life...unlike what I was able to do for Gerard himself. I looked up at him, the both of our eyes wet with tears. I can see in those eyes of his that he wants to stay with me. I can see that there’s a part of him deep down that’s begging him to not go. I can see that deep down, he’s fucking scared...and there’s nothing that no one can do to stop him.
“Goodbye, Frankie…,” he said quietly, leaning forward and kissing me on the lips, the both of ours warm up against each other’s That’s when I took him in, grabbing on to him and holding on to him tight one last time as our lips kissed again and again...for the very last time.
“Goodbye, Gerard...I love you,” I whispered under my lips as they collided with Gerard’s one final time.
“I love you, too...sugar pop,”
We let go of each other, our bodies growing further away from each other as Gerard walked out of the closet, our eyes meeting each other’s again and again. It was when I saw him walk away around the corner and back to the mess hall that I moved from where I was previously standing, following behind him at a distance to make sure he didn’t see that I was doing just that.
Wait a minute...Frank, what are you doing?
Don’t let him go, Frank. You can still save him. There’s still time left! Don’t you love him, Frank? If you really do...then save him!
I cannot let him leave me just now. I need to make sure he’s okay. I am far from through with him. Maybe, just maybe, something will change. Maybe Gerard will change his mind last minute. Maybe I can help with that. I need to fight for him to come back to me. I was a fool to let him go like that, because doing that will only end to his eternal downfall. I need to bring him back to me. I need him to be okay!
“Gerard!” I called out as I saw Gerard walk right into the chaos of the fights that are still taking place with the many officers and prisoners, Cecil’s giant body being amongst one of them, as well as Pete, Tyler, and Josh.. He stopped, turning around to look at me with his body only inches away from conflict, his eyes wide with surprise. He smiled warmly at me despite all that’s taking place around him, leaving me behind as he looked over at his giant target and ran right in, shoving past other prisoners and leaping right on to Cecil’s body as he pulled out his shank. That’s when I began to scream, begging Gerard to stop and come back to me.
“Gerard! Gerard! Stop it, Gerard! Come back!”
Not hearing my screams, Gerard and Cecil continued to fight, exchanging punches and kicks as Gerard clung onto Cecil’s body like a dying twig clinging with it’s life onto a branch, his face getting bludgeoned with Cecil’s fists again and again. Gerard roared, slicing at Cecil’s skin again and again as he struggled to hit a vital point to kill his prey.
“DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!” he screamed, going to town with the knife in his hand, hacking away at Cecil. “FUCKING DIE, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! DIE--”
Cecil swung around violently, making Gerard lose his balance as his huge blood-stained fist punched him right in the face, sending him to the floor. Gerard landed right on his head face-down, his body limp and still like a ragdoll.
Oh, no...Gerard! Oh no, no, no!
“NO! GERARD, NO! NOOOOOO!” I screamed, much louder this time as I found myself running right in the crowd of fighting prisoners. I pushed and shoved, getting knocked around, punched, kicked, shoved, and even bit at. I screamed again, using my full force within my enraged body to fend off everyone trying to attack me. I can’t find Gerard. He’s lost in the sea of orange-suited inmates that just won’t stop fighting, despite the efforts of the officers to stop them. I need to save Gerard. I need to bring him out of this mess. I need to fix him--
I stumbled to the floor, feeling someone’s fist meeting with the side of my head violently. Now my vision’s blurry. I can barely sit up. I can’t even feel my own body! I can’t move! Who the hell just punched me? Who did this to me? Whoever it is is gonna pay, especially if it’s--
“Hah...poor little fag can’t save his boyfriend, huh?” A sudden cackled, taunting me. It’s the voice of a man...a very nasty, vile man that hurt Gerard. I looked up at Cecil, seeing the shit-eating grin on his face as he glared at me maliciously. “Pathetic, the both of you…,”
You...you son of a bitch….You’re gonna pay for that….I am not pathetic, and neither is Gerard. He is my savior. He is my sunshine...and you can’t take that away from me, because I love him too much to let that happen...
“FUCK YOU!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, swinging my fist hard at Cecil’s ugly face, my hand feeling like the bones in it are breaking from the hard impact. I need to see his blood shed. I need to see Cecil die. I never thought I’d say that anyone after what I saw what happened to Irvine, but...not now. Cecil hurt Gerard. He needs to pay for what he’s done to my baby, my sugar pop, my sunshine. I saw Cecil collapse, his big body falling down to the hard tile floor, just like he deserved. “Die, you son of a bitch--
“Revenge!” another voice yelled, a very familiar voice that I’ve heard say that word far too many times…
It’s Gerard!
All bloodied and bruised, Gerard ran to the fallen Cecil with his shank in his hand, smiling at me as he passed by my beaten up body that can barely stand on his own two feet. I can see him stumbling, his hand clenching onto a bloody wound on his chest. He looks so weak and hurt. He’s been through hell, and it’s still far from over for him. I saw Gerard grab Cecil by his head, yanking his hair up to expose his neck as he struggled to be freed.
“Three cheers...for sweet revenge!” Gerard exclaimed, bringing the blade to Cecil’s neck and slicing him open like a cow in a slaughterhouse, blood spurting and spraying all over the place as Cecil screamed and gurgled before he finally croaked, dropping to the floor. It didn’t stop there. Gerard screamed in victory, digging the knife into his fallen enemy’s neck again and again, taking pleasure in the act. People around him cheered as others were hauled away by the officers, soon to be the two of us. Gerard huffed and puffed, his exhausted self looking up at me with absent eyes.
Yes...Gerard is alive! He made it! He pulled through! Now we can be together again! It wasn’t the end after all, was it?
“Gerard!” I yelled, running up to him. “Oh my god, Gerard...you’re alive! You’re gonna be okay! You’re--”
“Frankie...I lo--”
Gerard fell forward as he smiled at me one last time, his body collapsing right into my arms as I ran up to him. I gasped, gently bringing him down with me to the floor as I cradled him in my embrace. Poor Gee. I know he’s been through a lot. He needs plenty of rest. He--
I gasped, feeling warm blood soak my hands and shirt...and plenty of it, all of it coming from the wound on Gerard’s chest. He was stabbed right in the chest...multiple times. He gagged and heaved, coughing up blood all over my face as he weakly looked up at me with those hurt and lost hazel eyes that slowly began to close…
Oh, no….no, no, no! This can’t happen!
“Gerard, wake up!” I yelled at him, trying my damndest to shake him awake, only to be responded with nothing from Gerard, whose body has gone limp and cold as I held on to his hand with my dear life. “Wake up, baby! It’s okay, baby. Frankie’s here! Take my fucking hand and--”
“Get off him, Iero,” an officer called out, a young heavy-set guy with a set of glasses and blonde-brown hair whose nametag read P. Stump on it. “Let go of him, Iero…please,”
“No!” I spat, holding Gerard’s body closer to mine as I backed away from Stump. “Leave us alone! He’s hurt! He needs help--”
“Iero…,” Stump said, frowning with genuine remorse. “Let him go, Iero. He’s gone…,”
No...that’s not true. He’s not gone. He can’t be. Gerard can’t be dead. He killed Cecil. He fucking survived! He can’t leave me now. Gerard is not dead!
“Liar!” I shouted, getting my to my feet as I tried to bring Gerard with me, the weight of his body weighing me down. “Come on, Gerard. I’m gonna get you to a medic. Let’s get outta here--,”
“Put the inmate down now, Iero!” Stump commanded as he charged at me, a group of fellow officers joining him. One of them shoved me away from Gerard as Stump grabbed me, separating me from the man I need to save. I kicked and shoved and screamed, begging them to let us go. They gotta let us go. They need to leave us alone! They can’t do this to us!
“Let go of me!” I screamed. “Get your hands off Gerard! Let go of him! He needs me! Please!”
“No, Iero,” Stump said, that look of remorse still clear on his face as I struggled under his strong grip. A group of medics surrounded Gerard, rushing to tend to his wounds, blood soaking nearly every inch of his orange jumpsuit. “Look at him, Frank...It’s futile. He’s gone,”
“There’s no pulse,” a female medic said, looking up from Gerard’s still body. “We’ve lost him,”
“Alright, Melanie. Let’s take him--”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I cried out, struggling harder in Stump’s hold as he and some other officers hauled me away from my fallen love that is Gerard Way. “YOU’RE LYING! HE’S NOT DEAD! GERARD’S NOT DEAD!”
“It’s okay, Frank...he’s in a better place now,” Stump said. “We’re sorry…,”
“GERARD!” I screamed one last time as Stump and the others started to drag me off into a very dark place that I’ve seen before...and I’m going there without Gerard.
_ _ _
I don’t know how long I’ve been here in the dark. I haven’t eaten in so long since the moldy pieces bologna I’m always given are always inedible. I haven’t showered in a while since there’s no place to do that; all that’s here is a toilet and sink. I haven’t slept for the longest time since the floor is really not the most comfortable place to do so. I also haven’t slept because it’s not just dark in here; it’s a haunting dark that stares right back at me with it’s abysmal eyes. But the darkness of the Box is not the only reason why I’ve been such a mess. There’s an even bigger reason why I’m such a human wreckage.
Gerard is dead...and I couldn’t save him.
It’s all my fucking fault he died, because I couldn’t stop him from fighting Cecil. I am so alone without Gerard, and I know I always will be. No more will he be there to take me into his arms and comfort me when I’m scared, like I am now. No more will he give me the courage to keep fighting against the enemy that is life itself. I just wanna die now. I know I’ll never get out of this godforsaken prison, so I might as well just die in it already. The one man that meant the whole world to me is now gone, forever broken because I couldn’t fix him. I seriously have tried whatever I could to kill myself, but there isn’t much you can think of to do to end your life when you’re in a padded cell with only a waterless toilet and sink. I guess I could starve myself since I haven't eaten much lately, if not anything at all. After all, I couldn’t eat the moldy bologna I’m given on a daily basis without throwing it back up. It’ll be a very slow and painful death, but that is what I do deserve for failing to save my love, right? I do deserve to cry myself to sleep every night, knowing that nightmares of seeing him die over and over again are awaiting for me. I do deserve to cry and cower in fear, knowing that I’m soon to see something terrifying in this darkness that I should know in the back of my mind isn’t real...and I deserve to go through it all without Gerard. I know he deserved better than me. He deserved someone that would protect him and not let him die, like what I did. He deserved someone that would love him to no end and care for him immensely. He deserved nothing but the best, unlike me. I can still see his beautiful face so clearly--pale skin, forest-like hazel eyes, long raven black hair, and possibly the most gorgeous and genuine smile anyone could ever have...and now, all of it is nothing but a memory, his whole self gone forever, no thanks to a worthless fuck named--
“Frank Iero?” a familiar voice, one of an officer, called out. The man with that voice opened up the door, the rays of light hitting me and my eyesight like a freight train, nearly blinding me in the process from how long I’ve been deprived of such an element. “Come on out. You’re free,”
Wait, what? No way. There’s no way I can be let out. Not after what I let myself do to Gerard. Do you not know what I did? I don’t deserve anything but to rot in this cell, never again to see the blinding light of day. Just leave me alone--
“Frank?” Stump called out again, stepping into the cell as I rubbed my eyes from the blinding light he came from. “You can come out now. Lunch will be ready soon, so you can have it in the mess hall You’ve also got a phonecall,”
A phonecall? For me? And lunch too? Oh, Stump...you’re too kind, unlike the power-hungry assholes with a chip on their shoulders! I don’t deserve any of that, though. Don’t you already know that? You were there when Gerard died. For a police officer, you should know better than that! I am genuinely curious, though...who’s calling me? I wouldn’t call me though, even if it crossed my mind. Who would call up a sad excuse of a person like me anyway?
“Who called?” I asked reluctantly, my curiosity getting the best of me.
“A guy by the name of...hold on, let me see,” Stump said, adjusting the thin-frame glasses on his face as he tried to read whatever it is that’s written down on the piece of paper in his hand. “Ramona...Toro? Ramona Toro. He--or, ah...she said it’s urgent,”
Ray? Ramona? Ray fucking Toro is calling me? Did he not get the news of what happened to Gerard? If he did, why in the hell would he wanna talk to me, let alone about anything “urgent”? Maybe he just wants to call me up to let me know about how much of a scumbag I am for what I’ve done. Maybe that’s why it requires my immediate attention. I will say, I do miss the guy. I guess I could reconnect with a former friend from high school. It shouldn’t hurt to do so. I’ll also have to ask about Bob. I don’t care for Mikey, though. He can rot in hell, for all I care. I’ll sure as hell see him there.
“Well, Frank...you wanna talk to him or not?” Stump asked.
“Yes, please,” I said before Stump could have possibly had the chance to change his mind about letting me out. I stood up and walked out, my mind saying goodbye to the Box and the darkness of it...for now. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen light. Maybe I should ask Stump the nice cop. Maybe five years? Maybe ten or twelve? My bet is on ten fucking years I’ve been in that fucking cell. “Hey Stump, got a question for you,”
“You can just call me Patrick, y’know,” he laughed. “What’s up?”
“Oh, ah...Patrick, sorry...I was just wondering, how long was I in there?”
“You really wanna know?” Patrick said, the laughs gone within the blink of an eye.
“Yes, I do,”
“Frank…,” he sighed. “You were in there for four months. I am assuming you’ve learned your lesson now, right?”
You’re goddamn right I have, Patrick. It still blows my mind that you’re still letting me out of the Box, though. Just because I learned my lesson doesn’t mean I deserve to be let out. Was John Wayne Gacy and Richard Chase let out of prison after they learned that killing was bad? No, of course not.
“Yes, I have,”
“Alright, good. Here,” Patrick said, handing me the telephone when we headed to the phone booths. “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Frank,”
“Thanks,” I replied, quietly bringing the phone to my ear to talk to Ray/Ramona for the first time in months. “Hello?”
“Frank...Gerard is still alive”

Notes