Phobia | Frerard

Epilogue

She pushed her black bangs away from her eyes, checking herself in the rear view mirror as she pulled her keys out of the cars ignition. She was a mess, for what reason, she didn't know. She was nervous, of course. Walking into a big scary building to revisit your childhood best friend was already nerve wracking, but under the circumstances, this couldn't be any worse.

She had missed Lindsey tremendously. Ever since she stowed away to become an undercover agent for her Sections government, painting on fake tattoos and dressing like a Diff to acquire information, Jamia hadn't seen hide nor hair of her.

Hugging her again felt surreal, especially seeing Lindsey with her blonde hair tied up and in a plain lab coat. She looked almost too professional, considering Linsey was 5 years her senior, it was still an odd sight.

The hallways were brightly lit, the white lighting shadowing across Jamia's complex face. Her bottom lip was taken gently between her teeth as her eyes fell everywhere around her, never once landing directly on the boy she once knew behind the glass.

Three years, it had been. Three years since she'd left her section, leaving behind a helpless Frank Iero and his own emotions that she knew would tear him to pieces at some point. Never did she think she'd see him again, not like this at least, not under this pretense. Still, she never regretted using him, to her own benefit as emotions never came quite easily to her as the average person. Karma though, Jamia assumed it's what had brought Frank right back to her, right when she'd almost completely forgot about him.

Red hair and torn hoodie, paled out skin with bloodshot eyes accompanied by a skeletal looking body along with battered jeans and scabbed hands; this wasn't the old Frank Iero she had known. She didn't know a Frank who was mentally damaged beyond repair, succumbed in the feeling of losing someone he loved so dearly, someone who happened to be the same gender as he. Jamia remembered him as the raven haired boy with too much hair gel, too much anxiety for his own good and the need to please everyone around him. The Frank that was a goody two shoes, a stuck up prick with a tie that always hung loose around his once toned neck.

*This, * was all too horrifying.

"Lindsey?" Jamia questioned softly, reaching for the name of the only woman she knew of in the whole building.

"Yes."

"He's been staring at the same spot." Jamia replied. It was worrying, there wasn't much for Frank to stare at either. The rooms walls were completely white along with the ceiling and floor, the door too, and his bed with its sheets. The glass was one sided, allowing them to see Frank, and leaving Frank completely unaware. But still, nothing should've been too interesting for him to stare endlessly at it while barely blinking.

Lindsey sighed, "He's traumatized, Mia."

"He's so skinny."

"I know."

"Can't someone get him some food or something? I can't even look at him like this, Linds."

"He won't eat."

"Water?"

Lindsey shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor, "Do you want to see his file?"

Jamia thought for a moment, tucking her dark hair behind her ears in a subtle movement and meeting Lindsey's squinted eyes, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

There was a tall grey cabinet beside the glass window, sticking out against the whiteness of the walls, and Lindsey opened it. She pushed through a cardboard box that was placed on the cabinets middle shelf, searching until she finally pulled a simple file folder with gracious amounts of sticky notes and papers sticking out of it. "You might wanna sit, Mia."