I Never Told You What I Do For A Living [Frerard]

Chapter 1- Alone at a Table Set For Two

Finally starting the actual story. Yay. Um, so, if you really don't like guns/shooting/violence you should probably just not read this fic cuz there's gonna be a lot, soo... Anyway, here we go.

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*five years later*

Frank pressed the phone harder into his ear, straining to hear his friend over the noise around him. 

"-sure you don't want any more backup?" Lindsey was asking.

Frank pushed his way through the crowd on the side walk as he replied.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said for about the fifty thousandth time. "Ray will definitely be enough."

"Okay..." she said nervously. "I just don't want you getting hurt..."

"Relax," Frank told her, completely done with this conversation. He understood her concern, of course. They had been friends since high school, and they always worried about each other, but this was seriously getting out of hand. "He's just a hit man. How hard can it be?"

Lindsey snorted.

"Yeah, one of the best professional assassins in the world," she deadpanned. "But super easy, yeah, no problem."

"You know, he's not like, a serial killer," he reasoned, finally getting a hand on the door. "He doesn't beat them to death with spoons."

He could feel Lindsey rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, I know that, dumbass, I gave you the job."

"Now now, Lindsey," he told her off in a mock authoritative voice. "That's no way to speak to your agents."

He looked around the entrance lobby of the hotel he had just walked into. It was fairly empty, meaning the convention was likely about to begin.

"I gotta go now," he told his friend/supervisor, interrupting her light laughter. "It's about to start."

"Okay, Agent Iero," she said, playing off his earlier joke. "See ya, and be safe."

"I'll be fine," he said. "Bye."

He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. He smiled at the receptionist at the front desk and passed her by, heading for the massive conference room located nearby.

As he entered the room, he immediately began scanning for the suspect. 

He had spent all day yesterday in his room across the street analyzing the layout and activity, as well as pouring over every detail in his small file.

There were extensive pages on each victim case, of course, but almost nothing on the killer himself. Everyone he had taken out was someone rich and important, and their views and interests varied, showing that he clearly took contracts rather than kill for revenge or personal agenda.

All of them were extremely well executed, leaving the casual observer to believe it could be an accident, but Frank knew better. He saw the little signs and the well-hidden evidence of a homicide.

But as for the killer himself, basically the only personal information known was his name, Gerard Way. There was some information to be gleaned from his general occupation, style, and the contracts he took, but that was all inference, so Frank didn't have a lot to work with. That, of course, was the whole reason he was chosen for the job of hunting him down and bringing him in. 

Frank had the excellent ability to tell things about people. It certainly wasn't anything magical, but he could pick a thief in a room of murders. There was just something different about them. Even the best liars had tells, and Frank just excelled at picking them up.