{Frank Iero} Why Don't You Blow Me a Kiss Before She Goes? {Oneshot}

So why don't you blow me a kiss before she goes?
"Daddy!" She giggles happily, tugging on his hand as she pulls him forward, her pigtails bouncing and sparkling in the sunlight.
"Whoa! Hold on!" he says, hastening to keep up with her. He's sure that the sight of him, hunched over to reach her hand, is ridiculous.
But he doesn't care.
"C'mon, Daddy!" she says again. He bends down to scoop her up and set her on his shoulders.
She laughs her bubbly laugh, bouncing up and down as he runs down to meet the ice cream man. Then he swings her down and sets her on the ground, taking her hand once more.
She regards the cart seriously with her big brown eyes. They're his, those eyes.
They're the only thing. The only part of her that's his.
The ice cream man smiles and nods at the proud father, and they exchange greetings.
Finally, the little girl tugs impatiently at her daddy's hand. He gets down on one knee as she puts her small pink lips to his ear.
When she's done, he pulls away. "One Mickey Mouse popsicle, please," Frank says.
"Sure thing." The ice cream man opens the cart and rummages around.
"How much will that be?" Frank asks, pulling out his wallet.
"For the little lady?"
He nods.
"Fifty cents is all."
"But it's listed as..."
"Give the girl her popsicle." The ice cream man smiles. It's a kind smile.
"Thanks." Frank takes the ice cream and hands it to his little girl. She gives a happy little giggle and lets go of his hand to fight the wrapper off.
"Have a nice day, now," says the ice cream man.
"You too. And thanks again."
As she begins to gnaw happily on Mickey's ear, Frank takes his daughter's hand and leads her over to a nice big shady tree. He sits and pulls her onto his lap, fiddling gently with a clump of hair.
"Thank you Daddy," his baby girl says politely in between licks.
"No problem, sweetie." He puts his arms around her, and she tucks her head under his chin, blithely snapping Mickey's ear off.
"Daddy?" the girl says after a minute.
"Yeah?"
"Where do you get your tattoos?"
"Um..." Frank blinks, taken aback.
"Mikey says that they take big sharp crayons and do it," she says seriously, twisting her head out to look up at him with wide eyes. She's so innocent, so naive. She'll still believe everything Mikey tells her.
"Uh..." he says.
Turns out he doesn't need to say anything.
"I wanna tattoo," she announces.
"No," he says instantly.
"Why not?" She stands now, on his legs, imperious and demanding. "You have them!"
He racks his brain. "But I'm in a band."
"So?" She stamps her foot and he winces.
"So bands are special."
"I'm special, right?" She wrinkles her forehead.
His heart melts and he pulls her into a hug, getting Mickey Mouse smeared all over his black zip-up hoodie.
"Of course, honey."
"Then why don't I get tattoos?"
"Because you're not in a band."
"Then can I get a ring in my lip?" She straightens herself in his arms, poking at his lip-ring. His head jerks back automatically.
"No."
She pouts. "Why not?"
She's so his daughter. She may not have his hair, his face, but she's just him wrapped up in a little girl's body.
"Because... you're not in a band," he says, beginning to enjoy teasing her now.
She sticks her tongue out at him.
He sticks his out at her.
She pouts and sits down on his thighs. Mickey falls, forgotten, to the ground, to be swarmed by ants.
She crosses her arms.
He crosses his arms.
They sit in silence.
"Tattoos," she finally says.
"No," he replies.
"Ring."
"No."
Her lower lip begins to wobble.
"Oh, please." He scoops her up and cuddles her close. "Why don't we take Rev for a walk?" Rev being his dog. It's short for Revenge.
"Okay!" She jumps out of his arms and claps happily. Grinning, he gets to his feet, re-adjusting his hood. Then he takes her hand and they race happily down the hill.
Your misery and hate will kill us all
He doesn't realize he's crying until salty water hits a cut next to his lip ring.
His shoulders shake and he squeezes his eyes shut tightly. His head is resting on the tombstone. His own daughter's tombstone.
No father should have to see his own little girl's grave.
Both of his hands grab at the cold white marble.
He doesn't speak.
He doesn't cry Why? Why?!
He doesn't scream.
He doesn't do anything.
Except cry.
He just cries.
Then, he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.
He doesn't tell the person to go away, although he desperately wants to.
"Frank..."
It's Mikey's voice.
Frank's hands slip off the tombstone and fall into his lap. His chin hits his chest as he keeps his eyes tightly shut.
"Frank..." Gerard's here too.
Soon, soft thuds can be heard, and suddenly he's surrounded by warmth. The whole band must be here.
"Frankie..."
He doesn't say anything. All he can see, all he can think about are those little pigtails and those huge brown eyes.
"Frank..."
He wishes they'd stop saying his name.
He wishes he wasn't him.
He wishes she was with him.
That's all he wants.
He just wants his little girl.
Where did she go?
Why did she have to go somewhere he couldn't follow?
"Frank... we're here for you." It's Ray's voice, soft and unobtrusive.
He knows they are. They're always there, they always will be there for him.
But she won't be.
"Frank... we brought flowers," murmurs Gerard.
His eyes are still shut, but he can hear the soft rustle as the other man sets down the flowers in front of... in front of her grave.
He wants to say thank you, but he doesn't.
He wants to say go away, but he doesn't.
He wants her to be here...
But she isn't.
"Frankie..." Mikey's hand is on his shoulder again. "Frank, it's past midnight."
So? he wants to say.
"You can't stay out here. They're closing the gates," Bob says quietly.
"You can come back tomorrow," whispers Gerard.
Gentle hands are on him now, pulling him up, stumbling, stupid, to his feet.
"No."
Everyone stops at the sound coming from his throat, sounding so alien.
"Sorry, man, but they're..."
"Wait," he rasps. His eyes are open now, and he pulls away from his bandmates.
Not that there's much of a band any more.
Now that he spends all of his time at the cemetary.
Now that he doesn't eat.
Now that she's gone.
They stand silently as he kneels once more by her grave, leaning his forehead against it as he closes his bloodshot eyes.
"I love you," he whispers.
And he can almost imagine her little voice.
"I love you more, Daddy."
He knows he's crying again, but that doesn't matter.
"I'll come back tomorrow, sweetheart."
"Okay, Dad."
He's choking now, choking on his tears.
The flowers are lying in front of the grave.
There's one of every color you can imagine.
That suits her.
So bright.
Happy.
Colorful.
He gasps out another sob as he reaches out to brush his fingers across the cold hard stone that represents all that's left of her.
All that's left of his baby girl.
So long and good night

Thank you for reading! Sorry if it made you sad... Everyone who's already read it said it was sad.
But why don't you tell me what you think? I'm not gonna push you, but feel free to rate, message, CBox, whatever.
Frank Iero is cooler than you.
< !-- BEGIN CBOX - http://www.cbox.ws -->