A/N: This is probably the darkest chapter so far. I've been in a hell of a mood when I wrote it, so warning for suicidal thoughts, gruesome murders, and Kasady being his usual homicidal self.

Chapter 20: Jailbird

In which romance isn't dead, but some people certainly are.

The fire burned, burned, burned, struggling to break free and ravage the world, but Cletus kept it caged between his ribs. In different circumstances, he would've gladly let it out, laughing in glee as it destroyed everyone and everything in his way. But leaving a trail of destruction, no matter how good it would feel, was counterproductive to his goals.

The magic crystal throbbed in his chest, displeased. It felt like it was moving, shifting back and forth inside his charred heart.

"Calm down, pretty thing," Cletus whispered, dipping his fingers between his blackened ribs and brushing them against the crystal. "You'll get to have your fun soon enough. But I can't let anyone track me down. Not now."

He couldn't afford to get caught up in some pointless battle when his angel was waiting for him.

Cletus snarled in rage. He had killed the warden too quickly! That bastard should've suffered more for daring to lie to him!

And Cletus himself shouldn't have given up so soon either. He should've waited and tried to gather more proof…

But it was fine now. It was fine. Now he knew where his dear Frances was being held and had the power to free her.

He laughed wildly. And to think, he had Spider-Man to thank for this! After all, it was Spider-Man who had interrupted his suicide and saved his life.

Cletus had hated him for it before. Frances was the only ray of sunshine on this garbage dump of a planet and the hope of seeing her again one day was the only thing that kept him going during the years he had spent in prison. With Frances gone, all he wanted was to bring a bloody end to his own existence, but he didn't want to leave without carving his own mark into the uncaring world that had taken everything from him.

He had planned it all: gathered the hostages, invited the cops, and brought the best toys to the playground. He remembered the fear in their eyes and his own giddy excitement as their lives ticked down to zero…

But then Spider-Man intervened, ruining his plans, and Cletus had been imprisoned once more.

At first, he had contemplated simply goading the guards into shooting him, but that felt too much like giving up. After all, where was the fun in dying if he couldn't drag anyone else down to hell with him? So he kept waiting until a better opportunity presented itself.

And what an opportunity it turned out to be! To have all this power at his fingertips! He couldn't have imagined it in his wildest dreams!

And now he could get the love of his life back, all because Spider-Man didn't let him die.

Cletus was beyond grateful. So grateful, in fact, he would make sure to kill Spider-Man quickly.

The others though? He would make them suffer. Starting with that Lee…

But that would come later. Right now, he had more important things to do.

Frances lied down on a tiny narrow cot and silently glared at the ceiling. This cell wasn't much different in its construction from the one she had before: thick padded walls that muffled any sound, the heavy metal door with a transparent window that let the guards always keep an eye on her, and a small claustrophobic cube at the center of it that she was stuck inside.

But at least in prison she had been allowed to read newspapers, and sometimes the guards that brought her meals had talked to her. She had even been allowed to talk back, if only through a keyboard and a voice synthesizer.

Here? She was just a lab rat to them, subjected to endless tests, poked and prodded as the lab coat-wearing fucks tried to figure out how her powers worked and attempted to either replicate them or learn to suppress them more effectively.

She wished they all burned in hell!

Her seething was interrupted by the sound of the intercom system being turned on. Frances looked up and scowled even more when she saw the grey-haired woman standing at the door, clearly visible behind the small window.

Dr. Pazzo, the head bitch of this shithole, had arrived.

"Well, Frances, it looks like your sweetheart has done a Houdini act over there in Ravencroft," the bitch said. "It's all over the news."

Frances sat up, immediately alert. Cletus had escaped from prison?!

"Oh, don't get excited," the bitch cooed smugly. "He's not gonna find you. He doesn't even know that you're still alive."

"Fuck you!" Frances snarled, even if there was no point in talking out loud when she would never be heard from inside this cell anyway.

Her voice cracked against her will, grief breaking through the rage.

The bitch liked to come over and bring news from the outside world just to taunt her. Frances remembered the first time she had done it, telling Frances that Cletus had escaped from prison and was trying to free her… only to reveal in the same breath that the bitch and whatever shitty organization she was working for had faked her death.

Because Frances hadn't been transferred here. She had been kidnapped in the dead of the night and taken to this fucking black site to be experimented on for the rest of her life.

But it wasn't her own fate that made her heart ache. How many times had Cletus told her that she was his only light in the world, the only one who made life seem worthwhile?

Frances knew what he was going to do long before the bitch brought her the news of his suicide attempt. She knew that if her darling thought she was gone, he would've felt like there was nothing left for him to live for.

Even if Cletus was free once more, Frances knew he would just try to kill himself again.

And no matter how much it hurt, how could she ever blame him for it? Hadn't Frances herself contemplated the same, staring at the veins on her wrists and wondering if she should rip them open with her teeth to escape this hellhole?

Wasn't it better to die on her own terms than slowly wither in captivity?

A sudden wail of alarms broke Frances out of her dark thoughts. The intercom immediately turned off, filling her cell with silence, but when she looked up, Frances could see the red lights flashing in the corridor.

The bitch hurried away, looking worried. Then Frances saw armed guards run into the opposite direction.

What was going on out there? Had one of the other prisoners managed to break free or something?

Frances grinned darkly. She hoped someone would finally off the bitch, but she wasn't picky. Any of those bastards dying would be something to celebrate.

She leaned against the transparent wall of her cell and watched the outer door intently, trying to see what was happening outside.

Soon enough, she saw the guards return. They were backing away from something (or someone), spraying it with gunfire, but judging from their panicked movements, it didn't seem to work.

Then a torrent of flames filled the corridor.

The guards were screaming, they had to be. Even if Frances couldn't hear them, she could see how they thrashed and writhed in pain. One of the guards ended up pressed against the window, and Frances saw his skin cracking and blistering in the unbearable heat, his clothing burning and melting as his flesh peeled back from his bones…

Frances couldn't look away. Being burned alive was a shitty way to die, but it was also exactly what those bastards deserved.

It felt like an eternity had passed until they all finally stopped moving. Then the fire subsided, just as suddenly as it appeared.

Which meant that someone was controlling it.

Frances waited with bated breath, hoping to catch a glimpse of that person and wondering in the back of her mind whether that would be a good thing.

Then someone stepped in front of the glass window.

For a moment, Frances struggled to comprehend what she was seeing. Who she was seeing.

It seemed impossible.

He looked older now, the years having left their mark, but that soft smile, reserved for Frances alone, was just like she remembered.

She never thought she would ever see him again.

The intercom clicked on. "Hi, baby."

Frances nearly sobbed, too choked up to speak.

To everyone else, she was a witch, a monster, a freak. Even her own parents had been afraid of her. Even the gang she had briefly ran with that had shamelessly exploited her powers for their own benefit never had a kind word for her. (They didn't even have the decency to call her by her name. She was just Shriek to them: a tool to be used – and disposed of if she made a single step out of line.)

Cletus was the only person who had ever seen her powers in action and still looked at her with love instead of fear.

"…Darling?" she whispered, still not daring to believe.

"The loveliest angel of heaven and hell, from the moment we met I've been under your spell," Cletus recited with a smile. "I will travel to the ends of the world for a chance to hear your voice again, my songbird."

Frances couldn't stop her tears, because she recognized those words.

Cletus had always loved writing poetry. Frances had probably forgotten half of the poems he had read to her by now, no matter how much she had tried to cling to every memory of her love, but she would never forget this one.

From the moment the two of them had escaped the hell that was St. Estes (the school for unwanted children, Cletus had called it), they had been on the run, always moving from city to city, from state to state, never allowing the consequences of the crimes they had committed to catch up to them. And they had always stayed together…

Except for those terrible days right after Frances had lost her eye.

Cletus had found a discreet doctor that didn't ask questions for her, but he couldn't afford to stay at her side when there were still cops chasing after them. Instead, he had to leave and lead them away from her.

Frances could still remember how scared she had been. Cletus was only one man, who, unlike her, didn't even have any powers. What if he was captured? Killed?

What if she never saw him again?

But he did return, dragging that cop who had shot her with him, giving Frances a chance to take her revenge. Back then, Cletus had smiled at her and recited the same poem.

"It's you… It's really you…"

Frances pressed herself against the wall of her cell, desperate to reach her love, but the thick glass remained immovable.

"You will fly again, my sweet bird," Cletus promised and pressed one hand to the window. "Now I have the power to set you free."

Flames erupted from beneath his skin, eating away at his flesh, until it was a skinless, blackened mass, barely held together with charred sinew. Frances would've been horrified, but she could see that his face remained unchanged and his smile didn't waver.

He was the one controlling these flames.

The heavy metal door turned red from the heat, warping and liquefying into a puddle of molten steel. Cletus stepped over it and the fire expanded, spreading over the outer walls of her cell. It swirled around her cage and Frances saw its glass walls starting to warp as well.

She should've been boiling alive inside it, but Frances didn't feel any heat.

Of course she didn't. Her darling would never hurt her.

Cletus reached towards her through the melting glass, and Frances twined her fingers with his. The fire retreated, and she felt flesh and skin growing back under her touch.

"My angel…" Cletus whispered with quiet reverence.

"My darling," Frances whispered back and pulled him into a kiss.

At long last, they were together again.

The crystal wasn't happy.

The deaths of those guards had briefly satisfied it, but now it started to shift again. It wanted to burn all in its path without distinction and it didn't like the filigree work required to destroy this horrid cage without harming his precious songbird.

Cletus didn't care. Frances was back in his arms, and nothing else mattered to him.

They held each other and kissed amidst the flames, until a distant noise signaled the approach of more guards.

How annoying… But also just in time.

More living flesh for the crystal's fire to feed on.

Cletus strode back into the corridor to meet the guards. The bullets couldn't harm him, and the last thing he wanted was for Frances to get caught in the crossfire.

He stood between the corpses of the previous batch and waited for the new meat to arrive.

The guards shot him on sight, and for a few seconds, Cletus simply let them. The bullets shattered his bones and tore off pieces of remaining flesh, but it didn't hurt in the slightest.

He let the guards see the damage repairing itself, let them realize how powerless they were, and then torched them alive.

"Their screams make such a beautiful melody…" Cletus mused, looking back at Frances. "A perfect music for you to sing to, my love, don't you think?"

She shook her head, "Oh no, the guards are all yours." Then her expression hardened, "There is only one person I want for myself: the head doctor of this shithole."

Cletus bowed to her, "Then lead the way, my dear."

Together, they walked down the dark corridors, holding hands and swinging their arms like children. It reminded him of their first days on the run: walking down the dusty roads, just themselves and the endless sky.

More guards had tried to stop them, but all of them had failed. And with every death, with every charred corpse he stepped over, Cletus felt the pressure in his chest easing up. The crystal was finally satisfied.

Everything was right in the world.

Frances had been dragged to the labs more than enough times to remember the route. She could certainly recognize the heavy blast doors that blocked the entry.

The doors that her darling had melted through with barely any effort.

And everyone inside, all those eggheads that thought themselves safe, had nowhere left to run.

Frances screamed, pitching her voice at just the right volume to knock them off their feet, leaving them dazed but otherwise unharmed. Then she pointed at the head bitch, "Leave this one for me and kill the rest. Slowly."

"Your wish is my command," Cletus purred and the lab was filled with fire and pained screams.

Frances was surprised how good it felt to see those bastards writhe in pain and beg for mercy. Usually, Cletus was the one who delighted in the suffering of others. To her, murder was simply a means to an end, just a way to remove obstacles from her path.

But these bastards were the ones who kidnapped her and tortured her with endless experiments, and Frances wanted them to suffer for it.

And when their screams were finally silenced and the air was filled with the stench of burnt meat, Frances turned her attention to the head bitch.

"I've been waiting for this," Frances hissed, striding towards the old hag lying dazed on the floor.

Then Frances grabbed her by the hair, tilted her head up, and kissed her.

Cletus giggled in anticipation, moving closer to get a better look. He had only seen Frances do this once before, and he didn't want to miss a thing.

His lovely angel had never shared his bloodlust, never understood why he took so much joy in causing pain… And that was fine, really. Cletus had never understood her love of drag racing either. After all, they were different people with different tastes.

Cletus knew that his angel was far kinder than him, but even her kindness had its limits, and revenge had always been the sweetest dish of all.

When he had managed to capture that despicable cop who had taken her eye, Frances had done the exact same thing as she did now: kissed him, inhaled deeply, and screamed.

Her lovely voice could bend metal and shatter stone. What chance did a weak human body have against it?

Cletus watched with unabashed glee as the body ruptured from the inside. Flesh and skin were torn open, bones shattered, and internal organs were reduced to bloody pulp.

"Beautiful…" Cletus whispered breathlessly.

The bland white of those rags Frances had been forced to wear was completely drenched in the loveliest red and her smile could put the sun to shame with its brilliance.

Cletus pulled her into a hungry kiss and the blood on her lips tasted better than the finest wine.

"Tell me, who else should I kill? I can burn this entire prison to ashes, just say a word!" Cletus begged.

He could feel the fire building up inside him once again. All that energy demanded to be released, and he couldn't imagine a better target for its destructive power than those who had hurt his love.

"No," Frances replied, and for a moment Cletus couldn't breathe from the pain in his heart.

The crystal wanted to burn.

Cletus gritted his teeth. Frances was off-limits and her word was the only law he would always obey.

"I wasn't the only one those bastards had kidnapped," Frances continued. "I bet everyone else they imprisoned would love to break free and take their revenge too."

Cletus kissed her again, "Then I will set them free and we will watch the massacre together, my love."

The crystal still wasn't happy, but it settled down at the promise of destruction, and Cletus let the fire come.

How long had it been since she last saw the sun? Frances couldn't remember. She had been stuck in an isolated cell from the moment she had been captured. The years eventually started to blur together, but it had been well over a decade by now.

It felt like a dream. To be free again after so long, to have her darling at her side once more…

Frances wanted to catch this beautiful moment and hold it in her hands forever.

Cletus had blasted open the roof and flew out, holding her in his arms. He had transformed fully into that burning, corpse-like shape, but his flames didn't harm Frances and she didn't care what he looked like.

Her darling would always be beautiful to her.

She watched as Cletus blasted open the walls of this rotten place, letting the inmates (the victims) taste freedom once again. Every single one of them had their own powers, and while some had only wanted to escape, others deliberately sought out the guards and the remaining scientists.

It really was a massacre.

"Are you satisfied, my angel?" Cletus asked.

Frances wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, trailing her lips over scorched flesh and blackened bones. He tasted like burnt meat and charcoal, and Frances had never felt anything sweeter.

"I've never been happier, my darling."