Stockholm Syndrome (Frerard)

3: Doubt

Media: Frank

I didn't get that far. Zero knew what I was planning before I even started running. He had immediately booked after me the moment I took off, and fuck, was he fast. Must've had a lot of practise. His arms wrapped around me and he took me to the ground with no effort due to the fact that he was much larger than me.

I sobbed quietly, unable to do anything. I strained my arms and legs and tried to kick out of his grip, but I couldn't move. He was already sitting on my thighs and had my arms pinned over my head so I really couldn't move at all.

My only other option was to scream. In hopes that there was anyone out there, I yelled. I was panicking, I didn't even care that nobody was around. I just needed to yell.

"Help!" I called out, twisting and turning and kicking trying to get free, much to my avail. I felt like vomiting right then and there, too fucking terrified to do anything good for myself.

"Stop struggling, Frank. I've been doing this for years and not one has gotten away so you may as well stop trying." He snapped at me, and I just started to sob. I've been fine for the whole 19 hours I was with him, and now that it was finally happening, I was fucking terrified.

He got off of me and yanked me to my feet, beginning to drag me into the forest. I yelped in pain at the tight grip he had on my wrist.

"Let go!" I cried out, trying to kick him and get free.

"That's hilarious." He said, his grip around my arm and waist tightening. Before I knew it, I was being shoved to the ground. I felt the air leave my lungs as my body thudded against the cold hard forest floor. He lowered himself down and crawled over top of me again, pinning my free limbs down so I couldn't move. His legs were on either side of me and he had his hands around my wrists, pressed firmly against the ground restraining me from any movement.

"Please..." I sobbed, you never know how much you want to live until you're threatened by death. "I'll do anything.."

"Save it, kid. You're not gonna whore yourself out of this." He grumbled, stretching my arms up above my head so he could hold them both down with one large left hand. His now free right hand reached back and his fingers curled around the handle of his murder weapon, sliding the knife out of his waistband.

I was frozen. I couldn't even breathe, other than the choked sob I'd let out every few seconds. He let go of my hands, wrapping both of his own around the knife and raising it up, pointed down at me. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling more hot tears run down the sides of my face. I held my breath and unconsciously clawed at the earth, not even beginning to imagine the pain of that blade driving into my flesh and tissue and muscle and- the sound of the knife stabbing into something, I wasn't sure what it was, was all I could hear. I caught my breath and listened. All I could hear was the wind blowing through the trees, the blood pumping in my ears, and the heavy breathing that may or may not have killed me.

Was I dead? Was this death? I sure as hell didn't feel anything... I moved my fingers ever so slightly, feeling the grass between them. I slowly opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was the knife. It was sticking out of the ground beside me, and all I could think of in that moment was that I had to be alive. I lit my eyes trail from the knife and then I looked at Zero.

His head was hanging down, his arms laying limp at his sides. He looked defeated.

"...Z-Zero?" I spoke cautiously, staring at him with wide, still wet eyes.

"This isn't me." He muttered. He lifted his hands, palms up, just looking down at them. They were shaking slightly. "This isn't me."

"...What?" I asked. I thought he said he'd been doing this for years. I was still shocked out of my mind, I couldn't even think straight.

"How old are you, Frank?" He looked up at me, strands of jet black hair still falling in his face, sweaty from holding the struggle I had put up.

"Sev-Seventeen.."

"See? You're just a kid." He sighed. "And you didn't even do anything wrong. Ya see, usually I get hired to kill people who've done something bad. You never hurt anyone. I can't do that."

I almost started crying again. I'm alive. I'm okay. And I'm gonna go back home and be with my shitty dad in my shitty apartment again. Honestly I'd take that over death. Fuck, I'm alive. I've never felt so grateful to be alive.

He rolled off of me and just sat on the ground in thought, biting his lip and carding a hand through his hair.

"Fuck," he laughed, shaking his head. "Do you know how difficult things are gonna be now?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know who I am now. I can't just let you go home with the threat of you turning me in. And McCracken.. He'd kill ya if he saw you alive." He sighed, dropping his hand from his hair and reaching for the knife. He pulled it out of the ground and looked at it, before putting it down again.

I sat up to face him, still wary. He could be tricking me, I doubt it, but it was a possibility. I could barely see through the darkness, but the light of the full moon was enough. I was chilly, I was still in my pyjamas which were now covered in mud and dirt, torn from being dragged through the woods and snagging on random twigs and branches and sharp rocks. My bare arms were completely exposed to the winter air, scratched and bleeding. I wrapped my arms around myself and brought me knees up, to warm myself.

"Sorry Frank, you might have to be stuck with me for a bit." Zero sighed, looking at me. I opposed immediately.

"No!!" I stated, my eyebrows knitting together in defiance and concern. "Just take me home and I swear I won't say a thing!"

"Frank, listen to me. It's not safe for you there. Do you really think McCracken would allow that? Who knows, maybe he'll hire someone else to get ya when he sees that I've failed."

"But-"

"Frank." He looked at me seriously, and I shut my mouth. I knew he'd never take me back there no matter what I said. "You can stay with me. You'll be 18 in less than a year. You can leave then and never speak to me again. But remember," he pointed a finger at me and jabbed it into my chest. "You're dead now, Frank Iero."