The Enigma’s Anomaly

“Hey Gerard,” I say.

“Yes, Frank?”

“I love you.”

“I know,” Gerard replies.

We’re currently packing up all the stuff that we’d had to leave behind at the house in the middle of nowhere. It was in surprisingly good condition. It had obviously been torn up a bit, but it’s not too bad. Mikey left for the city already, leaving all the packing up to us, but I don’t really mind.

Thanks to Banks’ death, and the smoking gun in his hand, a grand total of fifteen people have been sent to prison due to me and Gerard. There’s the possibility that there’s more out there, but if there are, I highly doubt they’ll come after us. Everyone in the assassin community has established that Gerard is untouchable. I know that because Conte told me. There’s also a rumor that I’m dead. I don’t know how I feel about that, because on one hand, I did build up that reputation painstakingly. On the other hand however, I’m glad to not be that person anymore.

Everyone in that community knows that I failed to kill Gerard though. That’s a big fucking deal. What they don’t know is that I actually did miss without interference. Given the data set, the logical assumption is that someone is guarding Gerard. That would of course be me, but they don’t know that it wasn’t me at the beginning. I’m not going to correct it though. I still have a little pride left in me, even if I did fall in love with a guy I was paid to kill.

God, I still remember that sometimes. I really did fall in love with him. I was supposed to kill him. It just seems so surreal, and whimsical even. No one would ever guessed that. It’s just so improbable. I’m fine with it though. I wouldn’t change meeting Gerard for the world. My reputation, long past, means nothing compared to him.

“I love you too, you know,” Gerard says.

“That’s good,” I reply, “otherwise that would make the past several months kind of upsetting.”

Gerard chuckles, “no but really. Like I can’t believe that you and I are alive, and it’s all okay. I keep pinching myself. I was so sure that I was going to die. The first time that you shot at me, I had thought that was it. I thought that it was my funeral procession rearing its old head to mock me, but then I met you. You can’t be real. I don’t get how you’re real, but you are.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve never had so many near death experiences crammed into such a short period of time. You’re a pretty dangerous person to be around.”

“Yeah, I know. So are you though,” Gerard says.

“But that’s all a part of the fun,” I say, “our lives are going to be so boring now aren’t they though? Like, we’re not going to be running away from big men with guns anymore. Where’s the thrill when you don’t have to constantly worry about being killed?”

“If that’s your idea of fun then I’m not sure I really want to know what you call ‘scary.’ But I have you now, so that’s where all the excitement I need is going to come from.”

“Awwww. That was so cheesy,” I say, grinning.

“I tried,” Gerard replies.

“I’m going to miss this a little bit though. Part of me just really has a lot of respect for the chase now. I’d never been the mouse either, I was always the cat, and it’s been a really eye-opening experience to get to run away with you.”

Gerard says nothing for a few moments, as he grabs things and stuffs them into boxes. We’ve only really got enough stuff to fill a couple of boxes, but it still requires some effort.

I can’t help but love it though. Watching him doing such a menial task, humming some random tune, and he’s so perfect. His lip is bitten down by his teeth, and his face relaxed. He’s just really pretty, because he’s not doing anything. I love the way he looks when he’s doing nothing, and I love the way he peeks up at me every now and again, but then looks back down nervously. It’s like he doesn’t want me to see him looking at me, even though my eyes don’t waver from him.

“Move in with me, yeah?” Gerard says finally, and I smile.

“I don’t know, that’s kind of a big life decision,” I say teasingly.

“We’ve lived together for the past five months, asshole. Mikey won’t be there though, so it’ll just be you and me. Just say yes!”

“Hm, I’ll think about it,” I say.

“When will I get an answer?”

“Right now,” I say, “Yeah, I’ll move in with you.”

“That’s good,” Gerard nods, “because I love you. Like, a lot.”

“I know.”

~*~*~*~

It feels like it’s been forever since we were last in Gerard’s apartment. It doesn’t look any different. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I was expecting, like, cobwebs and stuff, but it looks the exact same. There’s more dust then there would be if someone had been in here recently, and I am not going to open the refrigerator, but it’s still the same. We got out of here pretty quickly so I’m not going to think about what’s ben rotting in the fridge for several months.

It’s still the same though, and I guess I find that just really refreshing. It’s good to be back somewhere so familiar. So welcoming. I think it’s felt like home for a lot longer than it took for Gerard to ask me to move in with him. It sounds so cliché to say, but really anywhere that Gerard was has felt like a home to me. Shitty hotel rooms weren’t exactly ideal, but they were made brighter by Gerard. It’s not just his bright red hair that has made them so vibrant, it’s his personality.

I think one of the things I love about him is that he truly doesn’t understand how beautiful he is. I think it might blow him off his feet if he could see himself the way I see him, but I love his modesty. It gives me even more of a reason to keep telling him how much I love him, how perfect I find him.

“It feels kind of odd being back,” Gerard says.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” I say.

“Welcome home?” Gerard says, “No I don’t like that, it’s far too bland.”

“I thought it was just fine,” I reply, and squeeze his hand in mine. He shrugs, but doesn’t say anything. He just pulls me closer to him, and kisses the top of my head.

I love the subtle things with him. The way Gerard uses such a variety of hand gestures when he’s talking. The way his tongue pokes out of his mouth when he’s concentrating really hard on things. The way he smiles at me when I look at him, the same way that I smile at him.

“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” I say.

“Where are you going?”

“There’s just something I have to do,” I say, “I need to kill The Enigma.”

“I direly hope you mean that in a metaphorical sense,” Gerard says.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not The Enigma anymore so it seems to me that there’s no reason to let the title linger. I want people to know he’s not here anymore. You killed him, Gerard.”

“Should I be proud?”

“Well I would be,” I say.

“Good, because I am pretty proud of that,” Gerard responds.

“I’ll see you in a few,” I say, walking over to the door.

“But where specifically are you going?”

I roll my eyes at him, “its better that I keep you out of that part of my life.”

“Excuse me, you shot at me. And I think you mean that part of your old life,” Gerard says.

“You’re right, but I’m not going to tell you, because this chapter of our lives is going to be done as of now.”

“How formal,” Gerard says, before I walk back out of the apartment.

I think I’ve had the desire to do this for months now, but I never had the chance. I hate the fact that my fate as The Enigma is unknown. No one knows what happened to me, and the only person who does doesn’t care. There’s a grand total of three living people who know that I, Frank Iero, am The Enigma. One of them is myself, another is Gerard, and the last is Conte, but to be honest, I don’t think he even knows my real name. If he doesn’t it wouldn't be that hard to figure out, because he knows I’m dating Gerard, but he’s not a sentimental man.

I make my way to a slumming part of town, that I am no stranger to. One quick stop in a small shop, and then I find myself standing in an empty alleyway with my hood up, and head down.

I look at the bare wall. This is where I made most of my dead drops as The Enigma. I had a variety of wire transfers too, but I’ve seen this wall too many times than I’d wish. People dropped my money underneath the dumpster against the wall, and this location will probably be used similarly long after I’m dead.

I make my work quick, not wanting to be seen here. I shake the can of spray paint in my hand, which I just bought, and get to work.

‘The Enigma is dead,’ I write in scrolling letters. It’s thanks to Gerard that I’m dead. He did a good job. He’s pretty extraordinary. I still don’t understand Gerard. I guess that makes him such an irregularity. He’s my irregularity though. My anomaly.