Don't. Stop. Running.
Frank's only reason to wipe his tears away was so he could see where he was going. But anywhere was better than what was behind him. He felt like a monster with angry villagers chasing after him with torches and pitchforks. His legs were burning, he could barely breathe, and his backpack was smacking against him and even slowing him down.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't help but glance back to see there were now three police officers. They were all shouting things, warnings, offers, demands, everything they're supposed to yell at runaways; but Frank couldn't hear a word. Everything was silent in Frank's ears. It all sounded muffled and distant. He hated when that happened, but he also liked it. He could pretend everything was okay...until he began to calm down.
Frank shrieked when he finally felt a hand wrap about his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. Of course, he fought, flailing his backpack at the offender and anyone else trying to restrain him. It didn't work; they were obviously stronger than the 17 year old who hadn't had much to eat in the past five days anyways.
Five days. That was officially his record for getting away. They were a great five days. But eventually, he was found again. And going back home was always ten times worse after a runaway. Especially school wise. He didn't understand why they couldn't just let him go.
"God dammit Frank, you have to stop this!" He heard his mother's voice from half way down the block and he looked up. The first frontal image his mother saw of him in five and a half days was of him barely holding himself up, cops on both arms and even behind him to make him walk.
Frank didn't say a word and instead showed his mother his red, lifeless eyes. She huffed and nodded to officers, telling them to escort him to a car, taking him back to a police station. Again.
"What am I gonna do with you?" His mother said (not so) under her breath. Frank shrugged in reply, even though she didn't see and he wasn't even intended to hear.
The rest of the walk, Frank focused on a series of things; the people watching as a teenager is getting a police escort to the nearest police car; the whispers and scoffs of those same people, all saying things like, "They should put that kid on a leash," or, "Is he finally going to juvie?"
Okay, so he had a rep. He wasn't ashamed of it. Frank just didn't care anymore. It was who he was; the emo fag runaway kid. He just...hated staying. He hated being trapped in a life he personally didn't care for anymore. He got bored of things quickly.
Especially when those things beat the shit out of him, emotionally and physically.
Finally, they reached a big cluster of police cars surrounding the abandoned warehouse he was using for shelter for the past few days. One of the officers placed his hand on his head, guiding him in, but Frank stopped as he stopped a figure in the distance. He didn't even question who it was.
"GERARD!" Frank yelled angrily, resisting the cop shoving him into the police car. "GODDAMMIT I KNEW IT!"
Gerard, scared, threw his backpack over his shoulder again and ran. The cop gave Frank a warning before finally getting him seated in the car, hands cuffed. He slammed the door shut, and Frank scowled at the back of the front seat, remembering the guilty look on the boy's face very clearly.
Gerard did it.
Gerard turned him in.
One week earlier
"Hi Frank!"
Frank turned around slowly, knowing damn well who was standing there. He didn't HATE Gerard, but Frank being the mega downer that he was, often couldn't handle the giddiness and positivity his friend often showed. Were they friends already? It had only been a couple days...
Oh well, Frank thought; he was better than nothing.
"Hey, Gee." Frank greeted him finally, forcing a smile.
"Did you finish the Algebra homework?" Gerard asked as Frank continued sifting through his locker.
He shook his head. "You didn't?" he asked in shock. Gerard ALWAYS did the homework; he didn't always do it RIGHT, but he did it.
Gerard sighed. "No, I did, but...I was actually asking for you." Frank turned his head slightly and shrugged. "You haven't been doing any of your homework lately, and—"
"So?" Frank interrupted, slamming his locker shut and alarming Gerard. "They're MY grades, Gerard, just stay out of it."
"I'm just...worried, because...because—"
"Because you've heard about me, huh?" Frank interrupted him again, poking his shoulder tauntingly, "You've heard about what a fuck up and I am, and you've heard all those fucking stories from people who only saw it in ONE way; That I decided to run away just BECAUSE. There is NO 'just because', Gerard; I had my reasons. I HAVE my reasons." Gerard just stood there, eyes wide as he searched for an answer. Frank scoffed. "That's what I thought."
He left Gerard standing there in the hall way as he lazily walked to his next class. But he couldn't help but feel guilty for yelling at him; he was older, after all, and so much nicer.
The car passed Gerard, walking on the sidewalk and hiding his face was first. But as soon as their eyes were able to meet, they did. Frank didn't hide his anger, and Gerard had a hard time hiding his guilt. But in the end, it was clear neither of them felt bad about anything.
The next day, that same time, Frank received yet another visit from the happy fairy. And honestly, he was surprised; usually when he told people off they were just completely done with him and joined the 'I hate Frank Iero' club.
And maybe things were different this time, only because there was also an 'I hate Gerard Way' club.
But the Happy Fairy didn't seem so happy today. He looked scared, confused, and a tad angry; but, as always, happy to see Frank...
For the most part.
"I saw you." Gerard began in a low voice. No hello.
"What do you mean you saw me?" Frank mumbled back, not even looking at Gerard.
Gerard wasn't having any of Frank's shit and slammed the locker shut in front of him. Frank turned his head and quickly and angrily. "What do you want?!" Frank yelled.
"Don't do it again." Gerard said, "Please."
Frank had a hunch—just a hunch—that he knew what he was referring to. Stay calm... "Do what?" he asked.
"Run away."
Yep; Frank was right. "Where did you get the idea I was running away again? Because I didn't do my fucking homework?!"
"I saw you setting up your little camp at that giant warehouse building half a mile out of town." Gerard explained.
Frank narrowed his eyes at the taller boy, who, by now, was looking quite nervous and sweaty. His black hair was even beginning to stick to his forehead. Frank was much better at hiding his fear; if he wasn't, he'd be dripping with sweat most of the time. Especially now.
"Did you FOLLOW me?" Frank asked slowly.
"N-no!" Gerard answered immediately, "I—I was just worried and—"
"If you tell anyone I swear to god Gerard, you'll pay, do you hear me?!" Frank said, grabbing the front of Gerard's shirt, "I actually have a CHANCE this time, and I'm not gonna let you blow it. So STOP trying to be my dad, unless you're gonna run off like he did; in that case, be my guest."
Gerard, gathering all his guts scoffed and replied, "So THAT'S where you get it from."
Frank let go of Gerard right then, turning away and walking off again. Except this time, he didn't just leave to his next class.
He walked out the front doors, and left the school, along with Gerard.
"A kid from your school turned you in, Frank," the cop in front of him informed, "I'm not allowed to tell you who, but you should know he'll probably do it again."
Frank sighed, staring out the window blankly, as they were long past the boy on the sidewalk. Or, as Frank was now referring to him, 'the traitor'. "Don't worry. I know who." He paused. "And you're probably right."