Frank Iero Must Die {Frerard}

30

I was crying, I knew that much. There were tears slipping down my cheeks, dripping off of my chin and losing themselves in the folds of my dark shirt.

I had never been so worried about anyone in my entire life. I had let someone in, I was in love, and now he might die. It was simply inconceivable.

"Frank." I murmured, my head spinning as I slumped back against the wall of the van, running my hand through my copper tinted hair as I stared down at my boyfriend's limp body. He had lost so much blood. If I had been able to stop the flow sooner, his recovery would have been certain. Now, it wasn't. Was it my fault? Was there anything more I could have done?

"Gerard, you've done every possible thing you can." Patrick spoke softly, obviously still in pain and possibly light-headed from his own wound, "Don't be too hard on yourself."

He didn't try to tell me that everything would be fine, that Frank would definitely be okay. I appreciated that. We couldn't lie to ourselves here, there was a chance that Frank was going to die. If he did, I would feel like giving up, I knew that. But I couldn't give up, not with all of these brave people relying on me.

Frank had to recover.

"Where am I driving to?" Lyn-Z asked from the front seat, and I cursed under my breath. Where could we go where they wouldn't find us? And how had they found us this time?

"Jimmy," I spoke tersely, trying to come back to reality, "Do you have any of Brendon's old equipment on you?"

"Uh yeah, I have his Glock. Why?"

"Throw it out the window. Tracking device." I commanded, rummaging around for a map of the area, only to be handed one by Mikey. "Thanks."

From the front seat, I heard Jimmy dismantling the gun and cursing under his breath, "That motherfucker." He grumbled, rolling down his window and climbing halfway out to toss the gun behind us. There was a screech of tires and some frantic honking, but we ignored it.

I scanned the map, tracing a finger through the streets. "Does anyone have a place near here?" My question was met with a chorus of 'no's and one 'kinda'.

I looked at Jimmy, "What do you mean by kinda?"

"I mean I have an underground bunker with more weapons in it than most military bases will ever see. Brendon knew about it though." Jimmy explained.

I hesitated, but not for long, "Alright, give Lyn-Z directions. We'll have to risk it, we have nowhere else to go. There's a chance he never got around to telling them about it."

As the van took a sharp left and I steadied Frank's limp form, I wondered if I had made the right decision. My thoughts were being clouded by emotions because of Frank, and I could no longer trust my own judgement.

I wanted to ask someone their opinion, but I couldn't afford to cause a panic. Instead, I got Mikey to take over watching Frank and scooted over to Pete and Patrick to make sure that everything was going well.

Patrick was pale with pain, avoiding looking at his leg as Pete applied pressure. The blond man was squeezing his eyes shut, his hands clenched at his sides.

"Distract me." He hissed at Pete who glanced at me, seeming at a loss. I shrugged helplessly, so he turned to Jimmy, blurting out, "Is Urine really your last name?" Patrick laughed.

"Nah." Jimmy chuckled, "It's Euringer, but fuck that. Ya know?"

Patrick laughed once again, seemingly distract as he and Jimmy began a conversation. I leaned over to Pete. "How does it look?"

Pete shook his head, "Bullet went clean through and took a fucking chunk of muscle with it. I'm surprised he isn't writhing in pain, Patrick's tougher than he shows."

"And I have good hearing, too." Patrick interrupted, "Thanks, by the way. Will I recover okay?"

Pete and I shared a look, "You might not be able to walk for a while." I admitted, and he cursed under his breath, although ut sounded suspiciously like he had said, "Holy smokes."

I gave him a sympathetic look and opened my mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a little groan of pain from behind me. I spun around to find Frank stirring, his right hand clutching at his bandaged torso.

My heart leapt as I moved over towards him, helping Mikey to keep Frank from sitting up. "Babe," I whispered as his eyes fluttered open and he whimpered, "I need you to relax and lie down, okay?" Glancing down at his bandages, I almost gasped. The blood had soaked through, staining them red.

"Alright sweetie hold still, we need to change your bandages." He looked up at me with so much panic and fear that I wanted to cry, but instead, I squared my jaw and carefully removed them.

The wound had bled heavily, the red soaking in to his flesh and almost seeming to stain the skin of Frank's chest and stomach. I flinched at what I saw, forcing myself to calm down.

Mikey passed me a cloth, and I mopped up what blood hadn't come away with the bandages. We applied the ointment, and I carefully placed a new set of bandages, trying to ignore Frank's little groans of pain.

His conciousness was a good thing. It was looking more and more likely that he would recover.

Once he was all bandaged up, I leaned down and kissed his cheek. Frank gave me a weak smile, his sweaty skin frighteningly pale.

"You'll be okay." I whispered, and I was really starting to believe it.

~

I wrote this while listening to La Dispute so uh yeah feels

Guess who's going to Warped 2015? This girl ((if anyone's going to the Toronto one holler at me))

READ

Time Stood Still by AJRulez

Wowie it's almost 2015 so I won't be on Tumblr or instagram until people stop being so fuckin nostalgic

Blow a kiss at the methane skies, and remember to create and destroy as you see fit

~Dani ♡