The Blade You Stained // Frerard // SEQUEL TO "NEVER COMING HOME"

• Chapter 3 •

The next day, I called my boss.

"John Erin speaking," He answered after I sat on hold for 5 minutes.

"Hi John, this is Gerard."

"Gerard! What can I do for you?"

"I'm quitting my job."

Exactly 7 seconds of silence passed. "Okay, uh, may I ask why?"

"I'm tired of having my ass grabbed every time I walk by."

"Uh, can we talk about this? I'll take a break and we can meet for lunch-"

"No, we can't. You're lucky I haven't told HR that you've been sexually assaulting me. This is not my two-week, this is effective immediately." I hung up and turned around to see Frank smiling at me.

"I'm proud of you," He told me. "You stood up for yourself. That's amazing." Frank was still in his plaid pajama pants and a David Bowie shirt that he stole from me in high school. It still amazed me that he had kept it after all of these years. 

"Thank you," I walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. I giggled as the color rushed to his face. "I'm going to make us some breakfast. You call Jason."

"Since when do you cook?" He asked. 

"Since I became a broke college student," I replied from the kitchen. 

As I threw together a batch of pancakes, I listened in on his call with Jason.

"Hey, I'm so sorry to spring this on you, but I have to quit... no no no, you've been a great mentor... no, it doesn't have anything to do with you... I have to take care of a sick family member. It has to be a full-time thing... yeah, my uncle is suffering with Alzheimer's... thanks, man... no, it's effective immediately... I'm not sure if I'm coming back or not... okay, I will... thanks for understanding... yeah, you too... bye." The phone beeped as he hung up, and he let out the most relieved sigh that I'd ever heard from him. I heard his footsteps getting louder as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed me by the waist.

"Hey," I greeted him softly as I threw a pancake in the air, watching nervously as it gracefully flipped over in the air before landing back into the pan. "How'd it go?"

"He seemed a bit disappointed, but you can't really argue with someone whose uncle has alzheimer's," Frank giggled. "How did you learn to make pancakes like that?"

"I started watching Gordon Ramsay's cooking show. I also know how to broil a steak, how to cook lamb burgers, and how to make the best scrambled eggs that anybody has ever tasted."

"I get to have a personal chef with me while I'm on the run? Fancy."

"Okay, so all that's left is to call the head secretary at school and get a refund for my classes. After that, what should we do?"

"We need to come up with a plan. We can't do this blindly unless we want to get caught. We need to come up with a method, a clean-up plan, and a runaway plan."

"We need to wear gloves," I said, pouring more pancake batter into the pan. "So many criminals get caught from DNA evidence."

"We also need to do something that isn't messy. Unless we want to Dexter the entire house before we kill her, we need to use a method that won't cause too much blood splatter."

"Or we could take her to a secluded area," I suggested. "Hey, can you grab the syrup?" Frank let go of my waist and walked over to the fridge. He came back a few seconds later and placed the syrup on the counter. I continued speaking as I separated the 6 pancakes between two plates and poured syrup on both plates. "We could dig a hole beforehand, kidnap her, and take her into the woods. If she screams, nobody will be able to hear her. New Jersey rains all the time, so any blood splatter would become unidentifiable pretty quickly. It'll be really hard for the police to even find the crime scene, as long as we go far enough out."

"That's a pretty good idea, actually," Frank said with a smirk. I handed him his plate, and we both sat down at the dining room table and ate as we continued talking. 

"Does it bother you at all that we're talking about our murder plan over pancakes?" 

"A little bit, but the fact that it's Linda is what makes me a bit more okay with it. Are you having second thoughts?"

"No, it's just... I never thought that I would be plotting to murder someone, I guess?"

"Well, there's nobody I'd rather become a criminal with," Frank giggled. 

"So, what should we use? A rope? A knife?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Frank said, half to himself. "Follow me." He stood up and began walking to his bedroom. I got up and followed him.

He walked into his closet, and I saw that he had a safe in the bottom right corner, under the shirts that were hanging up. He got down and typed in a code, 8978, and the safe beeped and opened up. Frank pulled out a revolver and a box of rounds. He stood up and held the gun out to me. 

"Is it loaded?" I asked. He shook his head no, so I took it. 

"I became a legal gun owner as soon as I turned 18. It's fucking scary how easy it is to get a gun. They checked my ID, and that was it."

"Are you sure it's safe for you to have a gun? I mean, knowing your history with suicide and mental illness-"

"Gerard, we're literally plotting murder. I don't think my mental health issues are exactly our top concern right now."

"Frank, we're planning to murder someone who ruined your life. She's evil. She's hateful. She deserves to die. You are not evil. You are not hateful. You do not deserve to die. Never, ever, ever compare yourself to her. I love you so fucking much. I've spent the last 5 years trying to cope with how much I love you. I never want to lose you again."

"I love you too, Gerard. I'm so glad I decided to send you that letter." 

I dropped the gun and wrapped my arms around Frank's neck, pulling him close to me and kissing him. His hand made its way into my hair, grabbing a handful of it and pulling me even closer to him. This kiss wasn't like any that I'd experienced before. It wasn't full of distance and empty feelings. It was desperate. It was our first kiss in 5 years, and it was like we were making up for lost time. I couldn't get enough of the intoxication that his lips gave me. Frank was better than any alcohol I'd ever drank, better than any drug I'd ever done.

I eventually pulled away, and we both gasped for air.

"Fuck, I love you so much," He panted.

"I love you more than I love life itself, Frank Iero. I'd die for you. I'd live for you. I'd kill for you."