~Frank's POV~
I stared at the glare of my phone screen, checking for the thousandth time that morning for any missed calls or messages on behalf of the case. There wasn't a time that my mind wasn't at least partially wondering about any updates, hence my constant compulsion to click the home button to reveal the screen and unveil any pesky missed notifications. Even in the short time, I was away from the captivation of the little device when I was taking my morning shower, I had to open up my phone just to check. There always seemed to be a chance for me to miss the ringtone sounding, so I just had to know.
With a groan at the complete absence of any update, I trudged to the kitchen to make breakfast and coffee. Both food and anything, in general, was fairly meager, seeing as I was incapable of work due to my worry for Y/n. I couldn't focus on anything, so I was let off. My friends and family were all worried since I was so melancholy all the time, but there was nothing I could do; Not until the case moved further along. I needed whatever closure meant. Whether that meant the return of my best friend, or her name scrawled on a tombstone, I needed it.
The toast sprung from the machine with tenfold the amount of vivacity I could even think to muster. I spread some butter on top, then walked to the living room with both my breakfast plate and coffee mug. Another day to waste slumped on the crappy couch watching the sorry excuse called entertainment, daytime television. Sounds appealing right? Just you and your thoughts accompanied by the chatter of General Hospital, The Price is Right, or The View. I don't know how the stay-at-home moms or retired folk could put up with that shit. It's meaningless, just like I seemed to convince myself that every other thought not regarding Y/n and the case was.
Usually, in the afternoon I would get restless and decide to take matters into my own hands as I would say to myself in my internal monologue. The FBI exchanged phone numbers with me, of course, so that meant whenever I felt the urge I could give it a little ring. Whoever was on the other line, I suppose their receptionist, started to expect my call. We kinda began to talk beside her usual schpeal about how they would let me know if anything big happened. I'd say me and Andrea were getting to be good buddies. It was probably because she felt bad for me, but hey it was someone to talk to nonetheless.
By the time The Price is Right had come on the shitbox, I had downed the whole pot of coffee I prepared and I decided that it wouldn't hurt to make more. Some people would lay off the caffeine, but it wasn't like I would be losing any sleep since I would have already been up, just tossing and turning. The thoughts ruminating without surrender. I set up the machine, the buttons beeping back at me gleefully as I was on standby for the coffee to finally brew.
I stood there rested against the countertop, tapping my foot over the noise of the trickling coffee and TV in the other room. I was jolted out of my stupor by the piercing be-be-beep of my ringtone overriding the wash of mundane sound that glazed over the scene. I couldn't help but dash to the living room, leaving the pot unattended as I caught the potentially significant phone call. "Hello?" My strained voice answered.
"Hello, Mr. Iero, this is Andrea at the front desk for FBI relations and communications, we have news regarding the case you stand witness for," Andrea spoke in her near robotic reception voice.
"Andi you don't have to be so formal, spit it out already," I said trying to front as nonchalant to cover my nervous energy.
"I'm handing you over to one of the lead investigators now," She replied, static taking over the line before a masculine voice replaced hers.
"Hello, Mr. Iero, this is Detective McCracken speaking," the man's stern tone greeted. "I thought we would give you a call to inform you of the progression in the investigation. We really aren't authorized to do this since the information is confidential, but considering the victim has no remaining close relatives and you have called every day for a month straight, we have made an exception," Detective McCracken explained. I'm going to be honest, I was barely absorbing his speech, I was only interested in the state of the case.
"I would fucking hope so, I've been her best friend for years and years, I'm about all she's got."
"Well, the law doesn't always too much care about how long people were friends or really people's feelings very much either," he said matter-of-factly. "That tangent is for another time though, back to the case. We have seemed to have nailed down our suspect and are currently making plans for an arrest," he summarized, being deliberately vague.
My eyes shot wide open, I didn't expect that they made that much progress. I would only have thought that they maybe narrowed it down to a handful of guests, but a takedown?! "Is she alive?" I asked slowly, the words seeming to inch their way off my tongue with precaution and fear of their outcome.
"... It's unclear at this time, Sir," His voice seemed to shrink. "I'm going to have to get back to work now, I hope this was helpful to set your mind to ease," Mr. McCracken added after a slight pause.
"Thank you, bye..."
Set my mind to ease? Who's mind is at ease when they don't know if their friend is alive? And even if she is alive, she could be pretty badly hurt. Why would the thought of all the vile and depraved things she could fall subject to invigorate me with hope?
A/N: That was pretty short, but I hope you enjoyed the start of the second installment to As the Blood Runs Down the Walls. I expect this to be around 15 chapters long, in case you wanted to know. But anyway, have a lovely day rats! -Sav
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Take This Spike to My Heart (Gerard Way x Reader)
Fanfiction{SEQUEL TO AS THE BLOOD RUNS DOWN THE WALLS, READ THAT FIRST} All seemed to be well after Y/n and Gerard escaped from the crime scene that occurred at the Hotel Bella Muerte until it wasn't. The simple life and routine they had begun to build would...
