Stockholm Syndrome (Frerard)

8: Early Sunsets

(A/N: I'm gonna start putting pics in the media as kinda like, idk. I wanna put pics of what they look like in the fic or what they wear or just an aesthetic photo that goes with the chapter. Idk man. You'll understand. [I'm also gonna be putting pics for all previous chapters])
-Dylan
Media: Zero

I was still staring at the clock near two in the morning, after trying to sleep for over an hour. Zero was sitting across the room in an armchair, with a pen and notebook in hand. I was faced away from him, though the sounds of the pen scratching on the paper assured me that I wasn't the only one awake. It was kinda weird, he had complained about being exhausted and insisted on stopping at a motel yet there he was, sketching or writing or whatever the fuck he was doing, in the hotel's phone book- which was actually just a notebook that they had pre-written phone numbers in, not an actual book. Talk about low-budget.

And then there was me, tired out of my mind, yet I couldn't sleep. I had so many things running through my mind, so many questions, thoughts, and inquiries buzzing around my head so fast that I couldn't even keep track. Most of them were about Zero, though.

"Zero?" I whispered, and then heard the scratching of the pen stop briefly.

"You're awake." He muttered, and I turned around in the bed to face him, my head propped up on my elbow.

"Are you staying up so I can have the bed to myself?" I asked, laying on my side. If he was, I was more than grateful because I was only in my t-shirt and boxers, and it would be a little awkward if he was here with me. I still felt bad though, he needed sleep if he was gonna be able to drive for almost 6 hours tomorrow.

"That's for me to know." He mumbled, too focused on whatever he was doing in that notebook to talk to me. That wouldn't stop me, though. After a few more moments of silence, I spoke again. The lack of sleep prevented me from having a filter over my mouth.

"Zero?"

"hm?"

"What's your real name?" He paused again, just staring down at the paper. He sighed and closed the notebook, before leaning forwards and looking at me.

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes."

"Why would you want to know? I'm a pretty shitty excuse for a human being and I don't see why you'd wanna know me."

"please?" I begged, it saddened me that he thought he was shitty but at the same time, he kinda was. He breathed out heavily through his nose, crossing an ankle over his knee. He had placed the closed notebook on the nightstand and then turned to me again.

"Okay, let's talk then." He said, and I sat up more to show him I was listening. "Why don't you go first? Who is Frank Iero?" My eager smile faltered a little bit when I realized I would have to participate too. I nodded anyways, locking my fingers together and fiddling with my thumbs trying to think of what to say.

"Well... There's not much to know.."

"Start with your family."

"Um... Well, the original Frank Iero is my granddad, and then there's my dad, and then there's me. So I'm the third, but they call me junior because third sounds too medieval or something-" I paused for a moment. "Hey, you know what? Why don't we just take turns cause I'm worried I'm gonna tell you everything and you tell me nothing and that's not fair.."