The kitchen.
Our kitchen. Early morning sunlight streaming through the window, birds chirping in the distance, the smell of fresh coffee drifting through the air.
And Frank.
Frank smiling at me, eyes full of love. Me smiling back at him, happy as could be. He takes my hand.
Then us dancing together at the gala, the world around us melting away. Spinning, twirling, around and around. Spiraling down, down, down.
Just the two of us together. And a gun. A gun in my hands. Frank looking at me with a hurt expression, asking why would I do that, why did I do that? I look at my hands, shaking and stained with guilt.
Then he collapses.
I call out his name but there's nothing I can do.
"Frank!" I woke myself up by screaming out his name. My head was spinning and I was shaking uncontrollably. I hadn't had my meds in far too long and I was really starting to feel the effects.
I tried to stand up, leaning on the cold stone wall for a bit of support. My vision was blurred and there was a terrible ringing in my ears.
I attempted to move to the window to get some fresh air, but as I stepped forward I stumbled and everything went black.
***
I woke up a few hours later to the sound of somebody opening the clanky metal door. I sat up on the floor where I had apparently passed out last night and rubbed at my eyes. A pair of well dressed feet approached me and I looked up to see who they belonged to.
Dallon Weekes. Great.
He paused in front of me and looked down to meet my gaze.
"Why the fuck are you sleeping on the floor."
I looked away and ran my fingers through my hair. "I- um, I don't know."
"Hm." he said, turning his back. "You seem to not know a lot of things." He came over to where I was seated on the ground and towered over me. "Like how to get away with murder without getting caught, for example."
I opened my mouth to say something but quickly shut it, knowing that there was no point in arguing. It would get me absolutely nowhere.
I started to get up because I began to feel very vulnerable with him standing over me like that.
"So," he started, taking a seat on the cot. "Are you still unsure about whether you shot Frank or not?"
"Um, I- I guess so..." I answered slowly.
"Well you don't need to worry anymore, Gerard, 'cause I have something here that might help clear up your uncertainties on the matter." Dallon said, pulling out his phone from the front pocket of his overcoat.
I was suddenly very hopeful. Had he found something that confirmed that I wasn't the one who had shot Frank? Was it possible that this whole ordeal was a huge misunderstanding? My hopes were shot down though, when I remembered who I was dealing with here.
"Well, what is it then?" I asked him.
He held up the phone and grinned at me. "Here I have some security footage from the night Frank was shot. I think you may find it quite interesting."
He handed me the phone and I pressed play on the video. It was quite blurry, but I could faintly make out the image of Frank getting hit with something and falling to the ground.
I covered my mouth with my free hand and backed away, tears beginning to build up in my eyes.
"Why would you show me that?" I asked Dallon, sending a hurtful look in his direction. "Wouldn't you think witnessing it once would be more than enough?"
"Well yes," he said, taking the phone back and slipping it into his pocket again. "But I want you to take note of something. Notice the direction the bullet came from. Quite close to where you were standing if I do say so myself."
I stared at him, not wanting to admit what that meant.
"I guess I'll leave you with that information then." Dallon said to me with a smug look on his face, heading towards the door.
He closed the door behind him and I sank down against the wall. So it was true. I really had done it. They were right all along. I had shot Frank. I didn't want to believe it, but there was no denying that everything Dallon had shown me had made it all so very clear. Every bit of evidence pointed accusingly in my direction. There was no hiding from it anymore. I was the one who shot and killed Frank Iero. That was the bitter truth.
***********************
A/N
So this one was kinda short...
But there's only one more chapter until we get some brand new story line!
Well I hope you enjoyed this mini-chapter 💕
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Who Framed Gerard Way?
Fanfiction'Frank Iero is dead but I swear it's not my fault.' Three nights ago, Frank Iero was shot and killed by an unknown attacker. Without his meds, Gerard's memory becomes unreliable. He doesn't think that he's the one who did it but when he is led to be...
