1: Call me Zero.

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A/N: hey! so this is my first fic, i'm not sure how long it's going to be but i'm guessing around 20 chapters or so. i hope you like it! feedback is much appreciated.


Frank almost didn't hear the crash over the sound of the stereo.

It was turned up full blast, currently playing some local punk band he'd never heard of, as he made an attempt to tidy up the house. Empty beer cans and food wrappers were scattered about the living room, along with the occasional empty pizza box. He picked up another can and was about to throw it away when it happened. 

At first it was just static, the song on the radio fading in and out, but it quickly began morphing into a painful screeching noise. He made a fist and banged on the top of the machine in a desperate attempt to make it stop, but the noise only got louder. He instinctively covered his ears, and made his way outside to escape the noise.

That's when he saw it.

A pillar of smoke falling from the sky, rapidly approaching the ground, and what was on the end looked like it was almost on fire. It was coming right for him, but by the time Frank had registered what was going on, it had hit the ground. 

The cloud of dust stung his eyes and filled his lungs, and he could feel the heat radiating off the object that had fallen. The dust cleared and he could see it now. It occurred to him that if he had been standing just a few yards further from the house, he would be part of the crater that was taking up his entire backyard right now.

Without even realizing what he was doing, he took a few cautious steps closer to the edge of the crater. In the center there was a smoking object, what seemed to be made out of metal, with a glass window. The glass was broken and through that and the clouds of smoke he could make out something else. Something bright red.

Again, without thinking, he made his way closer. He slid slowly down the side of the crater and walked closer, coughing as the smoke filled his lungs again. He covered his nose with the collar of his shirt and leaned in. It was hair. The red thing was hair, and as his eyes moved down he took in the person that it belonged to. They were slumped over, unconscious, and with a jolt Frank realized that there was more red on them than just the hair. Blood ran down the side of their face, dripping beneath the collar of their vibrant blue jacket. 

Frank let go of his shirt, oblivious to the smoke now, and leaned in to try to pull the person out of the compartment. He grabbed onto their shoulders, their head rolled back and their body slumped forward more and he almost lost his grip as the dead weight pulled him down. This person wasn't big, but with Frank being only 5'4" even this small frame was a bit of a challenge for him. He made an attempt to turn their body, hooking his arms under theirs and pulling back. He was very careful to avoid letting them get caught on the broken glass, but in his attempt he only ended up getting cut himself. You couldn't quite say they made it out without a scratch, but they made it out nonetheless.

He gently laid the person on the ground, standing up and taking a breath. He took a moment to inspect his cut, wincing as his fingers brushed over it. The thought of a first aid kit crossed his mind. He could've sworn he had one in the house. Frank turned back to the limp body lying on the ground. Getting them out of the smoking thing was the easy part, climbing up the side of the crater was a whole new story.


Eventually they made it back into the house, and the red haired person was lying on his couch now. He patched up both their wounds with the little bit of gauze he had tucked away in the bathroom.

That all happened a few hours ago.

The person was still unconscious, their head resting on the arm of the sofa. A bit of blood had leaked through the bandage on the side of their head, staining the material, but it didn't bother Frank. There were plenty of stains on that old couch; some he'd rather not talk about.

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