Before Killing Was Cool ➊ FRERARD

7: Why Is Gerard Way Not Dead Again?

C h a p t e r | S e v e n

Present Day - Frank

"Where are you headed?" asks Ray, sipping on the last of his coffee.

There's a map spread out in front of us, pinpointing our current location in Georgia. I stare at the roads heading west.

"I was thinking Mexico but—" I cut myself short. But what? What's stopping me? Gerard? Of course not; that would be absurd. I can't possibly be feeling sorry for him because I'm taking him away from his brother. It's not like I have any intention of returning the damaged goods. "If it's alright, we'll crash here for a few nights while I figure it out."

"Frank," Ray starts hesitantly, looking around for Gerard who claims he's taking a shower, and relaxing and lowering his voice when he sees he's not around, "what exactly are you doing, man?"

"What do you mean?" I sigh, playing confused because I don't want to talk about it.

"Nothing's stopping you from putting a hole through your hostage's head and dumping the body," he points out and I'm aware of the irony when I find myself a bit taken aback at the notion and his inhumane words, "you've killed five people, what's another one? Hell, you know I wouldn't grass on you. I couldn't, they'd ask questions. I get nervous enough going to the grocery store with a scarf over my mouth."

"I can't do it." I put my face in my hands and huff in frustration.

"So you're just going to keep him forever?"

"No, Ray, you just don't get it. Things have changed since the shooting, I don't want to - I just can't." I flail my arms around, trying to make a point that it's complicated.

"Have you gotten attached to him?" He pushes.

I roll my eyes. "Of course not. I kidnapped him. I practically just met him."

"Right. So you're going to let him go?" Ray doesn't mention that this is starting to sound like Lima Syndrome, when the captor gets emotionally invested in his captive. But Ray's starting to get on my nerves. "Well, you could, you know. If anything, it would win you brownie points. The cops will be after you no matter whether you have him or not, so you could ditch him at the nearest—"

"Stop talking about him like that!" I snap, interrupting him in sudden anger and defending Gerard. "Like he's an object that can be disposed of my leisure, like he isn't a person with humanity and feelings!"

Ray resists the urge to laugh at the irony. "You want to talk about how he probably feels right now?"

"Okay, say we go to Mexico," I huff, "because I haven't made up my mind. But then I decide to strand him in the desert in a foreign country, and his only option is to hitchhike back to civilisation but a murderer picks him up at the side of the road—"

"You can't be serious."

"I don't like the thought either. He has a life ahead of him," I try to explain.

"So did the people you murdered, Frank." Ray puts down his mug and shakes his head, holding his hands up to calm me down. "I'm not judging you, okay? I'm your friend and I'm trying to help you. I'm also saying you need to think this through before you create a bigger mess."

God, I really do.

"It's getting late," he notes, "I'll take the sofa - Gerard and you can have the bedrooms."

I sulk back into the closest one down the hall.

I'm sleeping fairly well, minding Gerard has a lock on his door and window, knowing we're relatively safe with Ray far away from most civilisation, until soft sobs drag me to consciousness. I rub my eyes which obviously isn't a bright idea considering traces of eyeliner smudge across my knuckles and cheekbones. I desperately need to shower - in the morning.