I could have killed Frank but 1) I'm not that cruel 2) that's a lie I'm cruel but it would've made no sense at all lmao

So here you go

______

Frank's POV :

Darkness. Such a distasteful, cold feeling.

I had to struggle to get out of the pit I had fallen into. Confused noises reached my ears before I could open my eyes. Distant laughters.

The ground below me was ferm and slightly wet. Grass. Eventually, I managed to open my eyes.

My gaze met the stars and the wide, black sky above me. The air was cool but I was wearing a warm coat and a scarf, for some reason. I wasn't feeling cold at all.

I sat up and my vision blurred for a few seconds. My head hurt a little but it was bearable. I was in a small, open garden just before an alley. I looked at my right and saw a carved pumpkin smiling at me.

And then I understood. The laughs were kids' laughs. It was Halloween night.

I had just turned 17.

I was dumbfounded. What happened exactly? Aren't I supposed to be dead?

A kid went to me. He was cosplayed as the Devil but he had the face of an angel. He must have been 12 or something.

"Are you okay, Mister?" he asked innocently.

I looked at him, then around myself confusedly. "I... I don't know..." I frowned, befuddled like I had woken up on Mars.

The kid shoved his hand in the little bag he was carrying and gave me a fistful of sweets.

The action snapped me out of my puzzlement and I giggled. "Thank you!" I let out, so natually casual that I even surprised myself.

The boy smiled brightly at me and left. After eating what he had given me, I finally stood up. I had never been here before, had I?

I approached the closest house to ask where I was, and even to ask to stay the night. I had no money, and I had no idea of where to go.

I rang the bell and the front door opened. A smiling lady opened, a crystal bowl full of candy in her hands. She was dressed all in black but it was no costume. It gave me the feeling that she was mourning someone.

When her eyes met mine, her smile dropped. The bowl slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor, scattering glass shards and candy all over the floor.

"My baby !!" she exclamed.

She immediately pulled me in a tight, warm hug. "My Frankie baby !" she cried in my shoulder. H-how does she know my name?

I pulled back, startled and confused. "Excuse me but... Do I know you?"

My words made her incredibly sad. "Frankie... Frankie, it's me! It's Mom!"

"...M-Mom?" I looked at the woman in front of me, frowning deeply.

I hadn't touched her in nearly five years, and I hadn't thought about her for at least a couple.

It is terrible to confess, but I had forgotten her face. Actually, I had simply forgotten about her.

I looked closer and recognized her golden eyes. We shared the same. "Mom..."

Mom couldn't stop crying and called my father, who came. He looked twice as old as what I remembered.

I eyed him carefully. I might have forgotten his face, but not everything he and Mom had inflicted on me. Dad burst out in tears and both of my parents hugged me tightly.

"I'm so sorry, son. I'm so sorry..." he cried. Tears escaped my eyes.

"...D-Daddy..."

•••
Life was so much better since I came back. My parents had moved when they learnt about my 'death'. That's why I hadn't recognized the house.

I was adapting to my new life, or should I say 'old life'? It sure was a brand new life.

Of course, my parents had immediately called the police to tell them I had come back from the dead. And of course, there had been a plethora of journalists and policemen to ask me questions.

...Including one detective who seemed very interested in my case. A short man with a fedora who looked a little bit familiar. He told me his name was Stump.

He started asking his questions but my answer was the same as for all the others.

"I don't remember anything."

That's a lie. I remember everything. I just don't want Gerard to be in trouble because of me.

Mr. Stump was surprised that I woke up mysteriously just before my parents' new house, and even more that I was perfectly healthy and had no physical trauma at all.

"You know," he told me, "I perfectly understand if you're trying to protect someone. But they did something wrong, I need you to see that. It would be justice to judge them for taking you. They ripped you from your life."

Thank God he did.

"I know, Sir. I'm sorry, but I can't recall a thing. I believe I was drugged to forget. That's what makes me truly sad. I forgot four years and a half of my life. My sweetest years."

I must have lied well because the man believed me - or so it seemed. What can I say, I've learnt from the best...

Something sadder was that during the 4 years and a half I was away, my dog Sweet Pea had passed away of old age.
I guess I've missed out quite a lot of things.

In the few days I was back, I hadn't told anyone about Gerard. And losing him that way was almost worse than thinking he died. It was just as sudden and tragic.

Sometimes, I wonder if all of that hasn't been a big dream. Or a nightmare, I don't know.

After all, now that I think about it, Gerard drugged me, twice. Not to mention he probably killed somebody. There are so many of his secrets that I don't know and probably never will.

For all these years, Gerard seemed so normal to me, but he was far from being an angel. And yet, somehow, I can't help but to still consider him as one. He was my guardian angel.

I couldn't help but think that he was still watching over me, somehow.

He kidnapped me, yes. But he saved me. He protected me and raised me like his own son, despite everything that had gone awry between us. He never gave up on me.

Gerard is right. The line between right and wrong is extremely blurry.

•••
It was 7 am. I had decided to go back to my old middle school to find Gerard, see if he still worked there.

I need to ask him about the body and above all, to thank him. I entered the school and went to a random teacher. A quite short, tanned man with straight black hair.

"Sir, excuse me..."

The man eyed me. "...Frank? Frank Iero? I saw you on the news. You probably don't remember me. Pete Wentz - I was your teacher in 6th grade. I'm so glad you're okay."

"Oh... Yeah, I think that rings a bell."

"My my, you don't look too damaged. Actually, you look vibrant. What happened to the shy kid that walked in here six years ago and hid behind Gerard's back at the sight of me?"

I felt a pang in my heart. "I suppose he simply grew up."

"I'd even say he grew up well ! What do you need, boy?"

"About Gerard, where can I find him? That's urgent."

"Oh kid, don't you know? Gerard's house burnt to the ground a few days ago. He came here an hour ago to pick his stuff. He told me he was about to move."

My heart stopped. "Oh..."

"He did mention passing by the cemetery though. Maybe you'll catch him up there."

My heart started beating again. "Oh boy. Alright. Thanks Pete," I said and rushed out the school.

I ran to the cemetery like the man trying to catch up with their massive crush at the airport at the end of a chick flick.

I arrived at the gates. It was November, so it was still night and chilly. There was a mist close to the ground, hugging the tombstones. It looked eerie, but not so scary.

I entered the cemetery and quickly saw a thin silhouette in a black trench coat before me, mourning on a grave. They had a suitcase and a backpack with them. They seemed to be talking to their lost one.

It was Gerard. I stayed away to respect his privacy. Soon enough, he looked up from the grave and turned to me. He took a few steps forwards so we weren't so far from one another.

"Mr. Iero." he saluted formally, like we barely knew each other. "I knew you'd go back to your old school to try to find me. I'm glad you did."

"Mr. Way." I nodded politely. "Two steps ahead as always. Anticipating others' moves is everything, isn't it?"

Gerard smiled a little. We peered at each other. I told him everything, my words only spoken through my eyes, carried to his by the sound of silence.

And my eyes said 'thank you'.

He understood and yet, I felt the urge to speak it. I needed to hear myself say it. Selfish? Maybe. Breaking the magic, if there was any at the moment? Surely. But Gerard wouldn't blame me.

Perhaps he only needed those four words as repayment for the four years he gave away.

"Thank you for everything."

"I only did what I had to do, and what I thought was right."

"You've done so much for me..." I whispered, moved at the thought that there were people this kindly devoted in this world.

"You're strong, Frank, and fundamentally good. It's carved in your heart. I know it, I've seen you grow up. I know you, Frank Iero, and know that whatever happens, I will always be with you, with every step you take."

I clunched my jaw, trying not to cry. I nodded at him. "Yes, sir."

Gerard smiled. I think I could even see sadness in his eyes, but I can't really tell from here, and with all that haze.

"Oh, and I've got something for you."
Gerard opened his backpack and took Miss Jackson out of it. "I believe she's yours."

He tossed her at me and I caught her mid air. I held her to my chest.

"Sorry, she's a little dusty. These are ashes, in fact."

The mention of ashes reminded me everything I needed to ask him.

"What happened to your house? Who was the burnt man?"

"A pawn in a chess game. But... aren't we all?" Gerard said mysteriously.

I nodded, not because I actually understood what he meant by that, but simply to say thank you, once again. I didn't want to bother him with my flow of questions. Nothing really mattered, at the moment. Just enjoying the last moments by his side.

Gerard turned away, but stopped in his tracks. "Oh, one last thing. If you ever need to find me... Ask Miss Jackson. She knows where I'll be."

Gerard threw at me one of his little smiles over his shoulder, both warm and crafty. Then he left the cemetery. This is how we said our farewells.

I didn't follow him. What would be the point of chasing him if he truly wanted to go?

I frowned.
A pawn... in a chess game. A game to which Gerard had clearly been the master of. Trying to protect his king. Which, of course, would be me. Vulnerable in itself but at the core of all schemes.

Are our lives only this? Pawns to move? To make fall? To sacrifice? I refuse to believe in this vision of things. Gerard and I would never agree on that. I am choosing candor.

Out of curiosity, I went to the grave Gerard was visiting and read the inscription. It read :

Mikey Way, loved son and brother, gone too soon. So long and goodnight.
1980 - 1990

I dropped Miss Jackson on the ground out of surprise.

I abruptly turned around. Of course, Gerard was long gone. So many questions would remain unanswered. I let a tear roll down my cheek when I processed that it was over.

I'll never see Gerard again.

When you're a kid, it feels like things are gonna last forever. They're not. In the end, the only thing that doesn't change in life is that things change...

I picked up Miss Jackson by the paw and looked at her in the eye.

People change. People leave and eventually, they die. And you have to let them go. You will be sad, you will be broken, but you will never be regretful.

Because remain the memories.

I clung Miss Jackson to my chest, and along with her, all those memories she represented. I never wanted to let go, but I would carry on.

I left the cemetery, heading for the sunrise.

The End...?

______

Does anybody have questions or theories to share? It's always nice to see how involved you are in my stories ♪(^∇^*)

I hope you liked that book. There's a sequel potential. Idk if anyone would read that

*sigh* now that I've published all my prewritten chapters I guess I'll just have to get my lazy fatass back to writing for y'all *dramatic pose*

Socially distanced boop <3 - Ele