A Bullet Through A Flock Of Doves

Fourty - I'll Never Let Them Take The Light Behind Your Eyes

Gerard punched the coordinates into the car GPS as fast as possible without messing them up, his other hand tight on the steering wheel as the machine calculated his route.

"You will arrive at your destination in approximately seventeen minutes. The route guidance will begin shortly.."

"Fuck!" Gerard shouted, slamming his hand down on the dash, fingers clenched. The Knights always found their targets, in the end. He knew the coordinates were a trap - but they were where Frank was, and Gerard was going to him, trap or not. Frank wouldn't die...he couldn't die. Nine fucking months - nine months with Frank; that was all he'd gotten. He'd had nine goddamn years with Leto - nine years he'd never wanted in the first place.

"Route guidance activated. Go northeast on North Colorado Avenue towards East 3rd Street. Turning left in 364 feet. 363, 362..."

Gerard was vaguely aware that there were a few other cars on the street and that he was probably speeding, but he didn't care. He'd sworn Leto would never get Frank; he'd sworn that Frank wouldn't get wrapped up in this mess that was his life. But it was inevitable, wasn't it, he thought bitterly. He'd opened up, he'd trusted, he'd cared for the first time in years, and now everything he'd built to protect himself, to protect Frank now, too, was crumbling.

"Turn left onto East 3rd Street."

Gerard swerved and the tires squealed around the corner, barely missing a small desert tree hunched over on the street corner. A rabbit bolted from it in terror.

Gerard, stop! You almost hit a rabbit. What? Life is important.

Gerard gritted his teeth. "I'll find you," he whispered into the night. "I'll find you alive."

Frank not being alive just wasn't an option. It never was, really.

"Turn left onto North Williamson Avenue."

xoxoxo

"You have reached your destination."

Gerard turned the key in the ignition and the car engine quieted as he stepped out onto the red, dusty earth, handgun held to his chest. He knew the handgun was probably no match for whatever - or whoever - was inside. Still, maybe a miracle would happen. Gerard didn't believe in miracles anymore, though, so maybe he wasn't eligible for the miraculous.

He approached the seemingly abandoned building cautiously - it was an old farm building, it seemed like, although it was not a barn as he'd first thought - it was a church. Fitting, Gerard thought, for the story of him and Frank to begin in a church and to end in one. The steeple was small and decrepit and the stained glass windows were pitted and cracked. In the bell tower, there didn't appear to be a bell - just a small flock of turtle doves, ruffling their gray-brown plumage in anticipation of dawn.

Gerard looked at them for a few seconds, and was taken off guard when one small bird spread its wings and fluttered down to the ground, cocking its head at him and cooing in its mournful voice before flying away again, circling once around the church before returning to its flock.

Frank was alive. Gerard knew it.

With new resolve, he strode up to the barely usable doors, pushing them open when he reached them. They gave easily, and a dim light as from candles spilled out into the darkness, illuminating Gerard and the people within the ramshackle chapel.

Gerard saw Frank first - he was struggling weakly high in the creaky rafters, bound there by his ankles with what looked to be rope. His face was flushed from the blood to his head, and his eyes were closed tightly. His wrists looked loosely bound, too, and Gerard felt a rush of white-hot anger at seeing Frank trussed and tied up, helpless.

He had very little time to contemplate that, though, because the next moment, he saw Jared Leto, blue eyes bright and mouth twisted up in a leer. "Gerard, darling...long time, no see."

Frank stopped struggling at once, his eyes opening in disbelief as they focused on Gerard. You came back, he mouthed, and Gerard nodded almost imperceptibly.

Jared was still talking. "Really, I'm surprised by you, Gerard. I thought I got rid of that rebel in you long ago. Evidently not...such a shame." He shook his head mockingly, pouting his lips.

"Let him go, he's done nothing to you," Gerard snapped, gesturing to Frank, who was swaying slightly, wincing every so often. Gerard wondered how long he'd been up there...wondered if the rope had cut off circulation yet. He should be fine now, but after an hour or two...Gerard didn't think the result would be good at all.

"Frank?" Jared chuckled. "I can't wrap my head around the fact that you're giving up everything for this useless boy. He barely even put up a fight...just screamed like a girl, although I'm sure you heard that."

"Get back," Gerard growled, readying the gun with a click and narrowing his eyes. "I'll fucking kill you."

"Gerard, no," said a quieter, familiar voice, and Gerard looked at the speaker in astonishment before realization settled in.

"Hayley," he breathed, "you....you were lying, all along? I thought-"

"You thought wrong, Gerard," she told him, firmer, taking out her own .44 and training it on him. "You betrayed the Knights...did you really expect me to do the same?"

"Gerard?" Frank whimpered, and the third person in the room cocked her own gun, pointing it at his head.

"Shut up," Lindsey Ballato retorted.

She didn't look at Gerard.

"You see?" Jared murmured, stepping closer to him and waggling a finger. "This is what happens to little boys who don't listen to their daddy."

"You sick motherfucker," Gerard snarled, throwing himself forward, gun pressing between Leto's eyes. The other didn't even blink - he just looked bored.

"I'm not quite sure you want to do that, pet." Jared raised an eyebrow and nodded towards Lindsey, who was still aiming at Frank. "You shoot me? Fine, fine - I've got no objection to that! But dear Frank will be dead a second later."

Gerard glared at him for several moments, and then his hand went limp and he dropped the gun, stepping back. It fell with a muted clatter onto the dirty wood floor next to him. He distantly heard Frank yelling "no!" with increasing distress, but Gerard didn't care.

Caring was what had gotten him into this whole mess in the first place.

So he just stood there, resigned to his fate as something heavy struck his skull and everything melted away into nothing.

xoxoxo

"Gerard. Gerard, please wake up, god, please."

Gerard stirred, at once aware that his head was pounding and his face felt too hot - and then of the dull pain in his ankles, which he, too, was now suspended by, next to Frank.

He cracked his eyes open and Frank let out a sigh of...well, not quite relief, but it made him relax a little nonetheless. "Thank god, I thought you wouldn't..."

"Come back?"

Frank closed his eyes again. "Yes."

"I promised, right?"

Frank looked at him, smiling a little even though his eyes showed how much he hurt. "Right."

"I dropped your present," Gerard said haltingly, staring down at the ground. "I think it broke."

"That's okay," Frank whispered, stretching out his bound hands until they were brushing Gerard's. "You already gave me the best birthday I've had in a long, long time, if not the best one ever."

Gerard nudged his hand back. "I'm sorry I lied to you and told you the government was chasing us...I didn't want to admit to myself - or you - that I'd betrayed the Knights."

"Leto wanted you to kill me, didn't he?" Frank asked dully.

"I couldn't do it," Gerard whispered, shaking his head and cringing at the pain that produced. "That night...the night after I told you about the Knights and you told me what you'd done...Jared called me. He found out I'd told you somehow, and he said I had three days to kill you and bring your body to him."

Frank's eyes widened as though he was imagining all the ways in the past Gerard could've killed him - all the chances Frank had unknowingly given to him to do so. "But you didn't do it...why didn't you do it?"

Gerard reached out, clumsily undoing the ties on Frank's wrists with his half-numb fingers. Frank got the message and did the same to him, tugging at the knots as Gerard said, "Because I couldn't. I couldn't do it - I tried; believe me I did. But something about you - bold as brass and fearless and angry, and yet soft and warm and sweet - stopped me. Frank, you..." Gerard swallowed with difficulty, feeling the ropes fall away and clasping his hand like a lifeline. "You're the strongest person I've ever met - stronger than I ever was - and it was never my place, or anyone else's, to try to make you weak."

"Gerard," Frank managed, his voice thick. "Come on, you bastard, don't make me cry."

"I'm sorry." Gerard squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry. I should've just let you go when I had the chance."

"I'm glad you didn't," Frank sniffed, "I'm so glad you didn't."

"Why?" Gerard asked, completely bewildered.

"Because...oh, god, Gerard, because I love - "

"Frank, no," Gerard said desperately, cutting him off, and Frank's face fell. Gerard's heart was pounding. How...? He...no. "You can't...don't do this now, please not now."

"When, then?!" Frank exclaimed, his hair wet from the tears sliding the wrong way down his upside-down face. "This might be the only chance I'll ever get! Even if you don't feel the same way, please just - "

Gerard shifted and, with some difficulty, he leaned forward and kissed Frank. It was awfully hard kissing him upside down; but upside down, right side up, sideways, diagonal - no matter how he kissed Frank, it was always perfect. He said against Frank's half-open lips, "I do," and Frank's stunned squeak made him laugh softly, nuzzling Frank's nose.

Frank broke away - their necks both hurt from the awkward positioning, but he didn't break the contact of their hands. "Thank you for caring, Gerard," he murmured, and that was really all he needed to say.

"Always," Gerard replied, and then the church doors opened.

The church had been empty when Gerard woke up, but Lindsey came in then, pistol at her hip. Gerard's shoulders slumped. He hadn't tried to escape other than untying his and Frank's wrists, because if they somehow managed to get free, there was still the at least fifteen foot drop to contend with. He preferred death by bullet than death by multiple severe injuries.

"Lindsey," he said quietly, still holding Frank's now shaking hand.

"Gerard, I'm not in the mood to chat," she hissed, unholstering her gun.

"I don't want to chat," Gerard sighed, running his thumb across Frank's palm in an attempt to make him relax. "I just want to say I'm sorry it has to end this way."

"What do you mean?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"I mean, I'm sorry it has to be you who kills us." Frank might a frightened sound and Gerard wished he could hold him; he wished he could make Frank's fear vanish. "We used to be friends."

"Yeah, that was before you became a traitor, Gerard," she snapped, training the gun on Frank. Frank shivered and closed his eyes, trying to get closer to Gerard. "Everything ends eventually."

"No!"

Gerard's cry echoed through the church, and Lindsey's finger paused on the trigger, the gun still pointed at Frank's head. She looked at Gerard with irritation. "What?"

"You can't...you..." Gerard swallowed. "Please shoot me first." Frank inhaled sharply, shaking his head and digging his nails into Gerard's hand, but Gerard knew he couldn't watch Frank die next to him.

"Gerard - "

"Please, Lindsey, if what we had ever meant anything to you - if I ever meant anything to you - shoot me first. Not Frank. Please, not Frank."

"No, Gerard," she said, rolling her eyes, and she pulled the trigger. Gerard's eyes closed instinctively, his grip on Frank's hand tightening, praying that somehow the moment his hand went limp and his skin went cold would never come.

Frank's body jerked and he gasped when the bullet hit - Gerard felt the quick twitch of his fingers, and then nothing as Frank's hand slipped away.

There was another loud shot, and Gerard didn't want to, but he opened his eyes, bracing himself for what he would see....

...Frank wasn't there. The rope holding his ankles to the rafter was frayed and cut, and Gerard's mouth opened in understanding as he looked down, where Lindsey had caught Frank as he fell, his face amazed and confused as he saw that he wasn't dead. Lindsey had shot through the rope - it had taken two bullets, but she'd done it, and now she was untying the remainder of the rope around Frank's ankles.

She was on their side.

She met Gerard's shocked eyes and smiled before raising the gun again. The breath was knocked out of Gerard as the tension in the rope was released and it snapped with the second shot, sending him plummeting towards the floorboards and instead landing heavily in the arms of...Frank. Gerard stared up at him for a second, their faces mirroring what they felt - the surprise, the relief, the adrenaline, the emotions they'd tried to hide for far too long.

"Hurry, we don't have much time before Leto comes in to see what's taking me so long. It took me long enough to convince him I could take care of you two." Lindsey paused and looked at them, the way their hands tangled and their faces seemed to gravitate towards each other. "It did mean something to me, Gerard," she said, nodding. "But he means the most to you now, and I think you know that, too." Lindsey's face softened. "You're different than before, Gerard. He changed you...I think for the better."

"I think so, yes," Gerard whispered, tucking his face against Frank's hair, touching his skin - his warm, soft skin which was bright and alive; not cold, not dead.

"I know so," Frank whispered back, kissing his throat and feeling his pulse.

xoxoxo

There had only been three Knights before Gerard had been tied up with Frank, but when they got outside, more had joined the group. Jared was still there, unfortunately, facing the road, and Hayley was off to the side, tapping her foot nervously. She saw them first, and her eyes lit up, though she said nothing. Gerard owed her an apology - she'd probably been the one who convinced Lindsey to help them in the first place.

Ross, Smith, and Dewees, the survivors from the the rescue of Mikey, were gathered in a small clump near Hayley, looking anxious. Near Jared stood two other men, both silent and brooding - one of whom Gerard knew as his brother, Shannon, and the other a man with long black hair and a scraggly beard.

But the most surprising addition was the man with wild, curly hair, standing in the shadows and accompanied by a woman, and before he could stop himself Gerard exclaimed, "Ray?!"

Jared spun at the sound of Gerard's voice and his now aghast blue eyes took in the scene before him.

"You're alive," was all he could say before everything went to hell.

Hayley and her agents immediately went for the long-haired man and Shannon, and Ray stepped out of his hiding place, along with the woman, who Gerard now recognized as Agent Toro. Toro, of course - that's what the other inmates had called Ray. But how had Ray escaped?

Ray just shook his head when Gerard opened his mouth, and Gerard shut it, understanding the urgency of the situation. He realized his handgun was still inside, but Lindsey handed it to him, and another gun to Frank, who held it nervously.

Ray bumped Gerard's shoulder. "Leto?"

Gerard nodded determinedly, and suddenly, he didn't care how Ray got out of prison. He didn't care what Hayley had told the others. He didn't even care, for that moment as he rushed towards Jared, that Frank was alive.

Because suddenly he wasn't even Gerard any more - he was just pure, cold, uncaring revenge.

And revenge smashed into Jared Leto, pinning him up against the side of the church and holding a gun to his head, eyes fiery and broad hands strong and unyielding. Somewhere behind them, Shannon and the other man fell, their blood turning the red dirt redder. Jared was the only Knight left - the others stood silently, watching, waiting to see how revenge would make the cruel leader suffer.

"Gerard, baby, this really isn't necessary," Jared crooned, though there was fear in his eyes. Gerard shoved the gunpoint against his skull, hard enough to bruise, the fire fading from his eyes, but not the torment, nor the vengeance.

"Shut your fucking mouth," Gerard snarled, "it's my turn to talk now; and it's your turn to listen to me for once in your pitiful life."

"Big words for such a silly little by," Jared mocked, but his words became a groan of pain when Gerard kneed him sharply in the groin, an arm braced across his neck.

"You've always called me that - little boy, but I don't know if you see that I'm not a little boy anymore. I was though, once upon a time - I'm sure you remember. Shall I tell your "Knights" a little story about a little boy and what you did to him for your stupid, sick, fucking cult?"

"Gerard, really, I don't think they want to hear - "

"Oh, no, I think they really do." Gerard smiled, but it wasn't happy or kind at all, it was the way he'd smiled before he had Frank - dangerously. "You see, once upon a time there was a teenage boy. He was fifteen, chubby, awkward, a loser by school standards. But he had big dreams. He wanted to go to art college, and create a comic book or two - maybe even a real book, a bestselling novel, perhaps get into the music business - he wanted to have a future." Gerard tilted his head at Jared, still baring his teeth, speaking loud enough for everyone around them to hear.

"And then one night, when he was walking home from the record store, he heard a woman screaming. He was shy and usually avoided people...but one of the few things he liked about himself was the fact that he had a very defined sense of right and wrong. So, trying to be the noble knight, he followed the screams into an alley - only to see something out of a nightmare.

"There was another boy, a boy he would later find out was named Jared Leto, age nineteen. He had a club of a sort, and instead of just ending the woman's misery, he beat her to death, slowly and painfully, with the studded club, until she was bleeding and her head was bashed open against the concrete. The boy realized, too late, that this was something he shouldn't get involved in at all, but then the older boy saw him and started chasing him. The boy ran but he knew it was useless."

Jared gulped and Gerard dug his nails into the other's neck in answer, sharp and hard enough to bleed. "The older boy caught him and knocked him unconscious, and when the boy woke up a few minutes later, he was gagged, tied up, and in the back of a car. He knew he'd been kidnapped by the older boy, Jared, and he knew he would probably die. He was, strangely, alright with that, although he was sad he wouldn't be able to live out his future. He just hoped his death would be quick and easy."

"Gerard, I think they've heard enough," Jared tried, his voice cracking and betraying his terror. "Haven't you all heard enough?" he called to the people watching them. They were silent. None of them followed Jared Leto anymore. Maybe none of them really had in the first place.

Gerard ignored him and continued. "But when Jared finally stopped the car and manhandled him outside, into a warehouse of a sort, there was another, older man there with a strange gold cross around his neck. Jared tried to tell the man that the boy needed to die because he'd been a "witness," but the man, who was his father, said that the boy would become a Knight instead, and Jared, his son, would train him.

"The boy tried to run. He tried so many times, but it made no difference. Jared forced him to kill, forced him to ruin lives and end them; and even worse, he hurt the boy in shameful, selfish ways, and at first the boy cried, but as the years passed, he didn't, because he couldn't feel anything anymore. There was just himself, the boy who controlled him, and the gold cross around his neck. He tried to make everything end a few times, to escape from the world...but it never worked, and eventually, the little boy stopped working too, like something inside of him had broken."

"Gerard, I'm sorry," Jared tried, and Gerard stared at him with not a hint of mercy.

"You're not sorry. You were never sorry. If you were sorry, you would have stopped when I told you to! You would have fucking listened then, when you had the chance to redeem yourself and when I wanted so badly to forgive you. But I never want to forgive you now - you ruined me. You twisted me into something I never wanted to become - something not far from a monster, although nowhere near as monstrous as yourself."

"I loved you, Gerard," Jared whispered, a last attempt at , but the words were false and empty, and they both knew it.

"You've never been capable of loving anyone," Gerard said, shaking his head. "And you almost made me the same way."

He pulled the trigger, and the shot echoed as this time, the bullet cut through tissue and bone instead of rope. Blood splattered against the wall and Gerard's hand, and Jared's face stayed frozen in surprise as he slid down the wall, crimson sliding down from the hole just above his ear. His blood was the same shade as the ruby in the middle of the golden cross at his throat, which shone dully in the dim light.

The silence dragged on. Nobody spoke in the small group of people whose lives had been stolen by the man Gerard had just shot. Nobody moved.

And then Gerard felt tentative hands touching his arm, cupping his face. He started towards him, his legs wobbling a little underneath him, threatening to give out. "Shhh," Frank shushed, stroking his hair. "Shhh. It's going to be okay now."

"Sixteen years, Frank," he whispered, turning into the circle of his arms. "Sixteen years, and he's finally dead."

"I know," Frank said, "I know," and Gerard wanted to scream, wanted to tell him that it wasn't possible for him to know what it was like, how horrible it had been...and then he knew that if anyone could understand how he felt, it was Frank.

"Sixteen years gone...half of my life wasted."

"It wasn't all a waste," Frank murmured, touching his jaw, smoothing his palm down to rest on Gerard's neck. "And you still have half a life left. We'll make the most of it."

"We?" Gerard shook his head, stepping back, away from Frank. "Maybe at one time, I could've spent the rest of my life with someone, but not now. Not when I'm some broken, corrupted version of myself incapable of caring for someone."

"But if that's true, how did you care for me?" Frank added, "And don't say you didn't. I know you did, Gerard, I know you do - you told me and you showed me you do time and time again."

"But - "

"You wanted Jared to listen to you; now I'm asking you to listen to me." Gerard flinched but relaxed when Frank sighed, his hand still brushing against Gerard's hair soothingly. "I love you, Gerard Way, and you were a complete dick to me and everyone else, but even then I couldn't help but like you, because you were more than people thought you were. And now you've proven all of them wrong because you're not the man I first met, and I don't think I'm the man you first met, either."

"A defiant little prison puttana?" Gerard teased, but his tone was soft. "No. You aren't."

"And you're not a self-absorbed, sadistic, emotionless mass murderer." Frank's tone was serious.

"Maybe not," Gerard admitted, hunching his shoulders a little.

"You're not," Frank said firmly, "and maybe you don't see it yet, but believe me, you will. And you'll see that you're not broken and corrupted anymore like you thought."

"I think I just needed somebody to fix me," Gerard confessed, finally giving in and leaning against Frank. "Somebody who would love me for who I was...the good, the bad, and the ugly."

"And the beautiful," Frank smiled, "and trust me, there's a whole lot of that."

"I always thought you were the beautiful one," Gerard hummed, "that was what I loved the most when I first met you - how gorgeous you were."

Frank flushed. "Just that?"

"No," Gerard laughed, "now I love everything."

Frank smiled his crooked little smile, his cheeks pink and his eyes luminous. The people around them relaxed at last, exchanging relieved expressions and warm hugs, taking off their golden necklaces and tossing them away - they wouldn't be needed any longer.

Gerard kissed Frank - and he'd been wrong before - kissing Frank wasn't always perfect. This? This was better than perfection.

When their lips slipped away from each other, they still stayed close, close enough to feel the other's heartbeat, and Gerard pushed Frank's unruly hair out of his face fondly, saying in a murmur that only they could hear, "Now...I loveyou."

Frank rose up on his toes and kissed him again, and as the first rays of dawn's light glowed on the horizon, the flock of doves took flight from the bell tower, spreading their wings to the warmth and hope of a new day, and a new future.