Blurry

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock.
The ticking noise reverberated around his head, he had to think. It had to be precise, a plan of perfection. One that didn't count on variable's, and had as little as possible. He needed to be the fresh, confidence, credible Gerard Way when he pulled this off.

He scrunched his eyes shut, rubbing his temples- a habit he picked up off of Juliet. It happened again, he mention her and there she was, his beautiful angel. Her pale skin contrasted against her red hair that cascaded down her back. He knew it wasn't her, but he was willing to endure the pain afterwords for these few minutes of bliss; as always. He walked towards where she stood, at the door. She smiled at him, a toothy grin that lit up her whole face, the same grin that had Gerard hopelessly in love.

She began to walk, Gerard kept right behind her, fearing that he'd lose her if he did not. They ended up in the kitchen, Gerard more enticed than ever in the woman, lust glistening in his eyes. She walked over to the kettle and turned it on, she spun around to face him. His breath hitched in his throat, her eyes shone of the sincerity as they always did. She was so comforting to be with, Gerard tried ignoring the voice in his head that told him she wasn't there.

Gerard walked over to her his eyes glimmering, the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. He reached a shaking hand out, inching towards her. Her face a display of confused perfection. Perfect was the only word he could use to describe her; no other word could do the redhead justice. His hand was beyond small tremors as it reached forth and touched her cheek. The tears ran uncontrollably down his cheeks, leaving salty traces behind. He held back the sobs and caressed her cheek. It was soft, and smooth. Like porcelain, he could practically hear her protests at him calling her any kind of synonym of fragile. It was who she was, stubborn as an ox and more as independent as America claimed to be. She grabbed his hand stroking reassuringly, slowly pulling it away until it was by his side.

She turned back to the kettle which she lifted- high. Just as Gerard asked himself what she was doing it, she turned it 180 degrees sending the boiling hot water over her head. He couldn't do anything but watch as she screamed in agony, her body writhing on the floor, a mist gathered over her and he closed his eyes tightly seeing the red haze of the inside of his lids. Replaying the blurred scene of her death, over and over.

He dared himself to open his eyes as the screams died out, only to see the kettle lying on the floor broken in many pieces. No sign of the beauty.

In the corner of eye he noticed something, he turned to see a shadow running away from him. He chased it only glimpsing the shadow as it distanced itself from him, separating the two by a straight stretch. He hesitated upon finding himself at the open front door. Running out.

His eyes darted around, left to right and once again. He scanned passed the bushes, the neatly trimmed lawns of his neighbors, his paranoia making him spin around to look behind.

After a few shaky breaths and another sweep of the deserted street he reentered the house, locking and bolting the door shut. Gerard returned to the living room sofa, where he crashed down onto it. Sobs overcome his body as he shook, holding knees to his chest. He felt like a young boy all over again.

A young naive boy.

He stopped himself, the hurt burning in his eyes, he wanted to claw them out but he didn't. Instead he let it take over him, he was angry; fuming at the situation. He had pushed the pain away again, instead preferring to let it build up into an overwhelming sense of rage. He wanted destroy everything around him, but he held back once more; he would take this out on Frank instead.

Frank Iero had caused Juliet so much pain through her life, right to the end where he killed her. Once more Gerard felt the sparking of anger. Frank had left her; abandoned her; abandoned Gerard with the task of raising a child. Frank had ran like the scared little boy he was, the exact same as the boy that used to sit fantasizing about being a famous rock star in Gerard's basement, the same child that had gotten him in trouble so many times. Albeit it wasn't so bad when it was only his parents he was in trouble with, but now Frank had landed him in trouble with the police too. He may well have been immature and reckless but he was also sneaky and intelligent, as much as it pained Gerard to think it. He felt a pang of resentment toward him, 'so much for best friends' he thought bitterly.

He returned to plotting; his mind now abuzz with the prospect of another adrenaline rush. 'What to do though' he thought, Frank was rich now he had set up a small studio in town, the only one for miles, it had quickly become a hit, so targeting his material possessions was no use. While a broken window may have posed a threat, it wasn't like he could instantly replace it. A smirk found its way onto the face of Gerard Way.

Frank Iero had taken the two most valued things Gerard ever had, had. Now, Gerard was taking one back.

Gerard was reclaiming his son.