I would pay someone to bring me McNuggets rn, I'm craving them

~~

My hands were shaking as we walked into the bank.

"It's okay," Frank whispered.

The bank door closed behind us with a heavy thud that made my stomach drop.

"Give us all your money!" Frank shouted, pulling the gun out.

My hands were shaking as I held out the bag to the bank teller.

"If you're doing this against your will then blink twice," she whispered as she took the bag from me.

I hadn't even realized I was crying until now. I shook my head, looking back at Frank. There were a couple people in here but they were all crying and crouched down.

"Hurry up!" Frank shouted and both the worker and I flinched.

I was so scared I thought I might pee my pants or something. That is, if I had anything in me for me to pee. I don't think I've had anything to drink for three days now and my last meal was early this morning.

I heard gunshots and was relieved to see that it was only Frank shooting at some guard with a gun. The lady quickly handed me the bag full of cash and I let out a small sob of relief. Frank and I hurried out and got into a car, which he quickly hotwired.

"Fuck, baby, you were great," Frank said as we sped off.

I cried quietly, wiping my eyes.

"W-we go to an airport now, right?" I asked.

"Not just yet, we have to hide out for a little bit while this all dies down," he said.

"So, we can't even use the money to buy food?" I asked and he shook his head.

My eyes watered as I looked out the window and he reached over to hold my hand. I was loving this car though. I missed soft, cushioned seats, far better than the cold ground. The seats were even heated! Oh god, I missed all my luxury cars.

"Don't be upset," he said softly, lifting my hand up to give it a soft kiss.

"I'm just scared and hungry," I whimpered.

I looked over at him, frowning softly. It was pretty obvious that he had been losing weight quickly, he has hardly eaten or drank anything in over a week. Whereas I had gone from maybe chubby to slightly less chubby, Frank has eaten far less than me and suffered more from the cold in just my little skirt. His hair was dirty and his skin was pale. There were bags under his eyes and his lips were usually slightly tinted blue. He looked thinner and so much unhealthier.

"We're gonna get some food in your tummy soon," he said.

"Your tummy too," I said.

"No, I'm not that hungry," Frank said. "But we gotta make sure you eat."

He squeezed my hand and I leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"You eat too," I said.

Frank shook his head. "We don't get a lot of food, we need to save it for you."

I scowled quietly as Frank pulled over.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

"We've gotta ditch the car," he said.

We got out and Frank wiped off his fingerprints.

"What about mine?" I asked.

"You have gloves on, baby," Frank said.

"Oh," I mumbled, looking down at my gloved hands.

"Come on, let's go before the police start searching," Frank said.

We hurried down with our bag to the side of the road. We walked until the sun went down but thankfully it seemed that we were in the clear. I sat down on the grass, whimpering softly.

"Baby, we can't stop," Frank said.

"I-I can't walk anymore," I said. "I'm just so tired and in pain."

I looked up at him, the moon shining bright. Little flakes of snow started falling and I shivered.

"Come on, I'll carry you," he said.

Frank gave me a piggy back ride as I sniffled. It was so cold I was shaking but I knew Frank had it even worse. He was still only wearing my skirt and thin sweater, he didn't even get a hat and gloves like me.

"Do you want my hat, daddy?" I asked.

"No, I'm fine," he said. "We gotta keep your cute little ears warm."

We got to another town, which was now probably seven hours from where we robbed the bank. We spent probably four hours driving and three hours walking.

"Here we go," Frank groaned, setting me down.

He sat down against the building, closing his eyes. I went around the building and found a dumpster. I was practically sobbing as I dug through it, I hate dirty things.

I found half a sandwich in a wrapper and sighed quietly. It still looked okay, as far as dumpster food can be. I'm used to eating five star meals.

"Daddy," I said, straddling his hips. "Here, eat something."

I held the sandwich out and he shook his head, pushing it towards me instead.

"No, I'm not hungry," I said.

That was a big fat lie, I was starving but Frank was starving even more.

"Yes you are, your stomach was growling earlier and you haven't eaten anything today," he said.

"No, I promise, I don't need it," I insisted.

"No, baby, you eat it," he said. "We gotta keep you all nice and healthy."

"You have to be nice and healthy too," I said.

"I already am," he said.

"No you aren't, you're sick," I said. "You need to eat something."

"I'm okay," he insisted.

"You haven't eaten in two whole days now and you have a heart condition too and--"

"Baby," Frank interrupted softly. "Eat the sandwich."

My lip quivered as I shook my head.

"It's okay, I'm fine," he said. "You've gotta have enough energy to get back home."

"B-But you need energy too," I whimpered.

"I'm fine, baby, don't worry," he said. "You eat the sandwich.

I sniffled, taking a small bite of the sandwich. I ate the food sadly and he kissed my cheek.

"We don't have our blanket anymore," I mumbled sadly.

"I know, we'll just have to cuddle to stay warm," he said.

I buried my face into the crook of his neck and smiled.

"I love you," I mumbled.

"I love you too, baby boy," he said.

"I love your pretty smile and your pretty hair and your pretty face and pretty tattoos and pretty personality," I said as I giggled.

Frank chuckled softly and I smiled.

"Let's get some rest," he said. "We'll hang out here for about two or three days and then we'll head out to the airport and go home, okay?"

"So just a few days and we'll be home?" I asked and he nodded.

Frank wrapped his arms around me tighter and I smiled. I snuggled up close to him, trying to stay as warm as possible as I fell asleep.

Some birds woke me up very early the next morning. I groaned quietly, rubbing my eyes. I was blinded slightly from the light layer of snow that covered the ground. It covered us too, actually.

I brushed the snow off myself then Frank, standing up. I went to the side of the building and smiled. We were next to a bakery so all the unsold foods from the day before got thrown out here.

I grabbed some muffins that were wrapped up and smiled. I haven't seen all this much food in so long, just the sight of it made my stomach grumble. We should've camped out behind bakeries before.

"Daddy," I said softly, sitting beside him. "I got us breakfast. They're cold and a little hard because they're slightly frozen but there's still more for us to get our hands on."

I shook him lightly and his body slumped over, falling onto my shoulder. I screamed, dropping both of the muffins. I listened closer and realized he wasn't breathing and there wasn't a heartbeat.

I broke down sobbing as people hurried behind the building with us. They looked to be workers at the bakery and must've heard me scream.

"H-he isn't breathing," I sobbed.

"Call an ambulance," the cook said to the waitress.

I sobbed as I watched him start doing CPR on Frank. Frank was just laying there lifeless in the snow, still dressed in my white sweater and pink skirt.

"An ambulance is on their way," the waitress said.

I sobbed as I reached over to hold Frank's hand.

"Please wake up," I cried.

An ambulance came quickly and they put Frank inside. I watched as they ripped the sweater off and picked up defibrillators, charging them up.

"Clear," the paramedic said.

They shocked his body and I let out a sob. They did it once more and my stomach dropped.

"There's a pulse," one of them said.

I sighed in relief as one of them turned to me while the other helped Frank.

"Do you have any information on what happened?" He asked.

"W-we--h-he hasn't eaten a-a lot and we've b-been out in the cold a-and he has a heart c-condition," I hiccuped.

"Do you know the name of this heart condition?" He asked and I shook his head. "What's his name and age?"

"H-his name's Frank Iero, he's thirty-six," I said.

He grabbed the radio, pressing the button to speak into it.

"We have a thirty-six year old male coming in with a possible heart attack as well as hypothermia," he said.

He hung the radio up as I sobbed, looking at Frank.

"What is your relationship to him?" He asked.

"He's my husband," I said. "I'm Gerard Iero."

I cried, praying that we'd get to the hospital soon.

"Baby, where's my baby?" Frank mumbled.

"Sir, can you tell me your name?" The paramedic asked.

"I want my baby," Frank muttered.

"I'm right here," I said.

Frank glanced over at me, seeming relieved as he started to doze off again.

"Sir, we need you to stay awake," the paramedic said.

Frank dozed off again and I whimpered.

"He still has a pulse," the other paramedic said.

The ambulance stopped and everyone rushed out. I felt like I was in a daze as people rushed and shouted. If Frank didn't survive, what was I going to do?