Title: Give 'Em Hell Kid - Sequel to My Way Home Is Through You!!
Rating: NC-17 overall.
P.O.V: Frank's
Disclaimer: Not real. I have them locked up in my closet. Of course I do. Not!
Dedications: Rachael for writing this with me. Melody because she's my wifey.
Summary: Frank and Gerard are happily married, or, they were until Gerard turned up on the doorstep with a baby. Will they cope, or will their marriage suffer? This is the story of how they cope.
Author's Notes: Hey! Here's chapter 17! The one you've been waiting for. Sorry it's took a while.
<3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15a Chapter 15b Chapter 15c Chapter 16

Frank's P.O.V
 
  We're so riled up right now, it's unbelievable. If I wasn't as worked up as Gerard, I'd ask to drive. The man's a psycho right now; we were on two wheels round that last corner. We tried to get Liam to stay behind but once he comphrehended what Zacky had done to me, he refused. Now he's sitting in the back, looking paler than normal and utterly stonefaced.
 
 "Gerard, what are we actually going to do to him?"
 
 "I'll figure that out when we get there."
 
  I composed myself and knocked politely, but firmly on the door. Someone who was definately not Zacky opened it. "Can I help you gentlemen?"
 
 "Yeah, does Zacky Baker live here?" I asked, smiling at him sweetly.
 
 "Urm, yeah. Zacky! Door's for you!"
 
  And he appeared. Gerard very nearly lept forward but I held him back. Zacky saw us and made a break for the bathroom door; it was at this point that I let Gerard go.
 
 "WHAT'S GOING ON?!" shouted the nice man who opened the door. At that exact moment, Gerard decked Zacky and I watched him fall to the ground. I turned calmly to the man who's name I do not know.
 
 "That scumbag of a man that my husband is beating the crap out of, raped me about 12 years ago and for the past 6 months has been grooming my 11 year old step-son."
 
  The man didn't say anything, just walked over to Gerard and tapped him on the shoulder mid-punch. "Excuse me, I don't know your name, but can  you step aside, it's my turn." Gerard did so willingly.
 
  The next 10 minutes was just tirade of the unknown man shouting at and abusing Zacky. It was fun to watch, Zacky looks so small right now.
 
 "Gerard call the police. I think we're done here. Oh and Zacky, you're not pressing charges for this."
 
 "Wouldn't dream of it." he replied, wiping at the spot where his lip ring had been pulled out; through his lip.
 
 "Good boy."
 
  20 minutes later, the police arrived and true to his word, Zacky didn't try to press charges, he went quietly, knowing it was his best option. The unknown, gorgeous man that opened the door turned to me. "Who are you again?"
 
 "I'm Frank Iero, this is my husband Gerard, and that is our 11 year old son Liam." I looked at him and his brow was furrowed in confusion. Why do people always do that when I introduce my family? I said the first thing that came into my head. "Don't even try to understand it; no one does. Who are you?"
 
 "Brian Haner Jr. I'm a studio musician from Long Beach."
 
 "Oh we're doing that are we? Well I'm Frank Antony Iero Jr and I'm a journalist from Boston."
 
  Then Gerard did the only thing he knows how to do in these situations. "Would you like to come back to our apartment for coffee?" I just stared at him.
 
 "Coffee is your answer for everything!"
 
  Brian piped up, "I like you."
 
 "Who? Him or me?"
 
 "Both of you. But mostly him 'cause he offered coffee."
 
 "I was getting there, but my husband is obsessed with it."
 
 "Shut up Frank." said Liam and Gerard simultaneously. Like Father, like son.
 
4 months later
 
 "Do you never lock your door or something?"
 
 "Hey Brian! And no, 'cause we can never find the key."
 
 "Isn't that a bit dangerous?"
 
 "We have Helena. She's like an attack cat."
 
 "I don't think Pinkley would like her."
 
  Liam came walking in, playing on his DS. "Who's Pinkley?" he asked, not looking up from the screen. We must teach this kid some manners at some point.
 
 "My Bichon Frise puppy."
 
 "Liam! Look at people when they're talking to you!" I snapped.
 
 "Sorry Frank."
 
 "Yeah you better be. Go make Brian a coffee." And then off he went.
 
 "You have that kid trained."
 
 "He's never really been a problem. It's not natural."
 
 "Oh he'll be a problem when the hormones kick in. Trust me."
 
 "So why are you here dude?"
 
 "I came to tell you something." he said, giggling hysterically.
 
 "Oh Jesus Christ, what?"
 
 "I've bagged myself a boyfriend with hips from heaven."
 
 "Okay alliteration annie. What's his name?"
 
 "Jimmy Sullivan."
 
 "Jimmy Sullivan, the tattoo artist Jimmy Sullivan?"
 
 "Yeah, that makes it sound like you know him..."
 
 "I do, he did my swallows. He has hips?"
 
 "Dude, he has that and more."
 
 "You've slept with him already?"
 
 "No, but you can tell."
 
 "Hmm." I said skeptically.
 
 "I haven't." he squeaked.
 
 "Hmm." I said again, still skeptical.
 
 "Okay, maybe a bit."
 
 "How can you sleep with someone a bit?"
 
 "Okay, maybe a lot." And then he moved his hands apart and mouthed, 'Big'.
 
 "You slut. Get out." I said, pointing at the door, chuckling.