Ignite These Somber Flames

Nine years prior, 1997

"Marlowe, I want you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Norris, they'll be looking after you," Linda spoke. She had one arm around Marlowe's shoulders and the other outstretched in front of them. Mr. and Mrs. Norris sat at their kitchen table, a plate of store-bought cookies steaming in front of them. Mrs. Norris probably placed them in the oven shortly before their arrival.

Marlowe kept her eyes on her shoes. These people were the same as every pair of foster parents she met. The smiles were temporary. They didn't last past Linda's stay. The store-bought cookies would go straight into the trashcan, no matter if the other children would have eaten them. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Marlowe," Mrs. Norris spoke up. "Is it okay if we call you Marley?"

Marlowe shuddered at the nickname. There was only one person on the planet that called her Marley, and she swore to herself that she'd never speak to him again. The only reason Marlowe was here was because of him. Her blood boiled as she thought of Frank. He betrayed her trust. He broke his promise and now Marlowe stood in this lemon colored kitchen because of him. "I prefer Marlowe," she grumbled with a helpful nudge from Linda. Marlowe looked up and met Linda's eyes. They were sympathetic but stern. 



Months passed. Marlowe went as long as she could to avoid Frank. It was easier at first; they went to different schools after all. She kept to herself, skipped classes, and her grade slid quickly. Marlowe quit Hemingway and Fitzgerald. Instead, she picked up kohl eyeliner and boys with nasty attitudes. She cut her hair to above her shoulders and gave herself a micro-fringe. The change came with the help of her new foster sister, Jennifer. She preferred Jenny except for when Mrs. Norris tried to call her that. 

"We're headed to the liquor store, you coming?" Jenny asked. She stood by the open window, a cigarette perched between her lips.  She inhaled, releasing the smoke back out the window. When she finished, she pushed the butt of the cigarette into the windowsill, the ashes spread out as far as they could go. Jenny picked her eyes up and casted a glance at Marlowe.

Marlowe nodded her head. She jumped off the bed and headed towards the door. Jenny came up behind her. "I like you," Jenny mumbled. "I like how quiet you are. I hated all the chatty ones." Jenny referred to the other foster children. Jenny had a talent for never keeping a roommate.  She was the Norris' biological daughter; but she never acted like it.

A car full of boys that dropped out of school rolled up, picking the girls up before speeding away to the liquor store. One of the boys pushed up against Marlowe's shoulder, offered a bottle of what appeared to be water to her. Marlowe grabbed it, taking a harsh drink of vodka instead of water. The substance burned the back of her throat, heating her insides in an instant. She took one more swig before passing it back. 

Jackson, the boy that drove and the leader of the pack, headed into the liquor store with Jenny. Marlowe made a safe assumption that the pair were a thing. "We'll be back," they grinned at the three in the back. Marlowe sighed, staring out the window. Cars drove by, kicking water up into the air. It rained earlier but stopped before the girls left. Marlowe didn't appreciate the fact Jenny left her alone with the other boys, but it shouldn't have surprised her. Marlowe should have known better than to trust her. 

The boy next to her, placed a tan hand on her bare thigh. Slowly he slid his hand up, stopping just below the hem of her skirt. Marlowe rolled her eyes to him, a glazed over expression across her face. "You're feeling it huh?" He grinned at her. His voice sounded million miles away, but Marlowe knew he sat right up against her. The lines of his face faded away and his silhouette became a big blur. She blinked, her eyes crossing at him. His messy, black hair covered one side of his face. The other boy behind him, grinned at his friend.

"Oh fuck, man," he laughed. "She's so faded." 



Frank stood in the back of the comic book store. He glanced through the rackets of the latest editions. Every Wednesday, a new comic released. He already had a stack tucked under his arm but a new series came out that intrigued him. It only took a couple of minutes before Frank lost himself to the rest of the comics sitting in front of him. The door pushed open, the bell ringing throughout the empty store. Frank was never one to skip school, but today a new Batman comic was released and he wouldn't have been able to focus all day until he had it in his hands. 

A group full of rowdy boys piled in. There were about three of them. They dressed similarly to Frank when Frank wasn't forced to wear his Queen of Peace uniform. The only difference was they way they carried themselves. They were obviously shit-faced, something Frank could only assume they did everyday. Their hair greasy and their clothes wrinkled. They were accompanied by two girls but Frank decided to go back to his comics. He finished up, feeling uncomfortable at he eavesdropped on their conversation. 

"What the fuck is wrong with her?" one of the girls hissed. She appeared annoyed. "I'm not babysitting her." 

"I'll babysit her," one of the boys laughed with a smirk across his face. "Huh, babe? You'll let me-"

The girl slurred her words, falling helplessly to the floor. "Oh my god, she's a mess," the girl scoffed at her. "What the fuck did you give her?"

"Just something extra special," the boy bent down, pulling her up by her arm. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. "I got you, babe." 

Frank didn't like to get involve with other people's troubles. But he had enough of their conversation to know that this girl wasn't in control of her problems. For all Frank knew, she had been drugged by them. Frank tucked his comics under his arm, looking up at the group for the first time since they entered to store. His eyes widen when they landed on the girl, the center of attention. He dropped everything in his hands; the comics hitting the ground with a light thud. Only one of the boys looked at Frank.

"You got a problem, buddy?" The way he stood, Frank figured he was the leader. Frank marched right up to them, pulling Marlowe into his chest. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm getting her away from you assholes," Frank hissed up at him. The majority of the boys stood inches taller than him. Even the tall, slender girl stood at least a couple inches taller than him.

"Whatever," the leader murmured. "She's a fucking mess. I mean look at her? Can't handle her liquor I say." He waved his arm around, signaling for their pack to move out. They left the store. 

Frank looked down at Marlowe. She clung to his jacket, her eyes glazed over. Frank sighed heavily, running his free hand through his hair. His other hand supported Marlowe's back. "What did they give you?" He asked rhetorically. 



Frank's room was always off limits. It was an unspoken rule of the Ireo household. They weren't given any other rule but that one. And after all this time, Marlowe woke up in Frank's sheets. They smelled exactly of him. Even without their scent, Marlowe knew it was Frank's room because of all the punk rock posters on his walls. His precious, Pansy guitar stood gloriously in the corner. Marlowe sat up and looked down at herself. Instead of the crop top and mini skirt she borrowed from Jenny, she fashioned a pair of batman pajama bottoms and a Black Flag shirt. As she stood up, Frank entered the room. "I'm glad you're awake," his voice was gentle, but a tone of disappointment leaked through. "I was really worried you might have overdosed."

Marlowe didn't say a word; she stared at him blankly. The months apart changed his face. His chubby cheeks slimmed down and his hair grew out past his ears, his curls started to form. Darkness circled around his eyes, but his hazel shined brighter than ever. She missed him. Anything differently would have been a lie. "What happened?" She asked, her brows furrowed. She cleared her throat and looked up into his eyes. "I remember getting into the car with Jenny-"

"The girl who left you behind at the comic book store with some creep?" Frank snarled. "Yeah, I remember her too." He stood taller, his entire posture changed along with his tone. He sounded bitter. His eyes harden, the green in them no longer visible. "I didn't know you knew that crowd of people."

"Like you care," the words slipped past Marlowe's lips before she could stop them. The hair on her arms stood straight up. She wobbled towards him, her eyes narrowing at his. "I suppose you are going to run off and tell mommy if you haven't already?"

Frank's posture softened immediately. His brows relaxed and his shoulder slumped. He walked past her; their shoulders barely touched. "Is that what all this is about?" He picked up a book from his nightstand, fiddling with it in his palm. Abstractly, he flipped through the pages as he leaned against the wall.

"I told you to leave it alone," her voice cracked with pain. She fought back the tears. Marlowe was done with crying. She preferred the car full of crooks than her tears and books. She ripped her copy of East of Eden  from Frank's hands, throwing it across the room. "You had to go and ruin everything, didn't you?"

Frank looked confused. He had no idea what she was talking about. He did her a favor. He helped her get out of a bad situation. He even helped his best friend, Liam get out of a rough situation. "What did I ruin, Marley?" He asked, his voice rising with his own anger. Why wasn't she grateful? What was so wrong with him telling the truth? "Did I ruin an abusive home for you? Did I ruin your chance of some creep from taking advantage of you?"

"EVERYTHING!" She shouted, waving her arms in the air. Her face inches from his. "You separated us!" The tears cascaded down when she spoke. "You took Liam from me," she threw herself down on his bed, curling her knees into her chest. "I lost Liam because of you."



Frank drove Marlowe into Newark the next day. They waited until Linda left for work. It didn't surprise Marlowe that Jenny didn't report Marlowe missing to her parents. Frank pulled up in front of a house, deep inside a gated neighborhood. 

"He got adopted," Frank mumbled as he parked the car. "A really nice, elderly couple took him in when they found out about his situation. Not everyday you read about the local track-star coming from a rough background."

Marlowe stared aimlessly out the window. Her heart weighed heavily in her chest. The house could fit every single foster home she ever lived in. Liam had a different caseworker than Marlowe. Up until this last move, Liam and Marlowe stuck together. But a lot of homes didn't want to take in teenagers, especially not multiple foster teens. 

"I had no idea, Marley," Frank tore her away from her thoughts. "I didn't know you guys would get separated." Silence filled the car. Marlowe's eyes rested on the house; she felt the term 'house' didn't quite fit the building in front of her. "Let's go," Frank sighed. "I called Liam before we left. He's expecting us."

Marlowe turned around, her soft eyes finally met Frank's soft eyes for the first time in months. She didn't have to say, "I forgive you," to know she had; it was written all over her icy orbs. 



Summer approached quicker than Marlowe anticipated. Her grades went back up and her hair grew out. She kept her distance from Jenny, making sure to never be in the same room as her. It was difficult in the beginning, but soon Jenny moved on and found a new sidekick. 

Marlowe knew of only two guardian angels in her life. The first was Linda Iero. For most of Marlowe's life, Linda Iero was the only motherly figure she knew. Through all her ups and downs growing up, Linda did the best she could to give Marlowe her best chance. 

The second guardian angel in Marlowe's life was Gerard Way. Marlowe picked up a job at the Barnes and Noble, working frequently with the Way brothers. Marlowe and Mikey bonded over their love for Fitzgerald's collection of short stories while Marlowe and Gerard shared their love for art. Marlowe listened to Gerard go on and on about his art classes in New York, sharing with her his sketchbook. Marlowe eventually opened up, sharing with him all her doodles in her school notebooks. 

"You should just get a sketchbook," he smiled down at her work in the margins and between lines of notes. Her line work was impeccable. Her still-life work was full of detail. 

"Eventually," she mumbled. "It'll be the first thing I buy with my paycheck."

Gerard didn't wait until payday. The following shift they shared, Gerard strolled into work with two wrapped gifts in his book bag. He spotted Marlowe sitting in the break room with an apple in her hand and Clockwork Orange in the other. Gerard placed both gifts in front of her.

"What-" she gasped, dropping the book and apple instantly. Marlowe gawked up at him; Gerard sliding into the seat across from her.

"Open them," he smiled. The first gift didn't come as a shock when Marlowe ripped it open. In her hands, she held a small, hardcover sketchbook in black. It was simple and sleek. A smile spread across her cheek. "Now you don't have to wait until payday," he beamed. "Open the other one."

Marlowe tilted her head to the side. The other gift stood taller than the sketchbook had, but it was smaller in diameter. She tore at the wrapping paper, revealing a twin lens camera. The only time Marlowe ever saw something like it was in pawnshops or thrift stores. "Wha-?" she asked but stopped. She was speechless. 

"It was my grandfather's," Gerard told her. "It's been sitting on our mantle at home for ages. My mother was going to donate it since no one uses it but I figured you'd make use of it."

Marlowe threw the strap around her neck, clicked open the viewfinder, and peered down into it. There she saw Gerard, upside down staring at her. With a click of the shutter on the front, she watched the screen go dark for a split second. She grinned up at Gerard. "I don't know what to say," she laughed. 

"I know," he smiled back. "And you're welcome."