The Kids From Yesterday ➸ Danger Days

thirty six • war.

Ghoul paused, shrugging as he wrapped an arm around Party as he hadn't moved for a solid minute. "One of the detonations went to shit and blew out my joint, so they pretty much just put in a socket sort of thing- it looks like a socket wrench, I mean- and it's more or less healed up, but it'll pop out sometimes if I don't wear the brace."

"So wear the fuckin' brace. I'd rather that then see that shit show again," Kobra mumbled, still obviously barely in control over the contents of his stomach.

"It's uncomfortable and hot," Ghoul whined, looking right at the blonde, "you wouldn't wear it either."

"No, but I still wear a fuckin' leather jacket every day. That's hot."

"You can stop arguing now, it's not gonna prove anything." Jet sighed, though still remained intrigued as he left the room to head back to where he slept. 

"Anything else happen to you while you were away?" Doctor Death asked, seeming to have regained himself.

"Uh, yeah, a lot actually. There was that detonation, there was the time I was cut open in Brazil, there was that one thing in England where I almost got shanked by an exterminator and then almost choked on dust and died...um, and yeah in Russia I got shot twice." The last sentence was said so quickly, hardly anyone in the room understood.

"You what?"

"Yeah, um, I got shot twice in Russia and sent home."

"Where." It wasn't even a question the way Party said it. He'd found his voice again and now was looking directly at Ghoul.

Shrugging, Ghoul looked down. "Upper chest and stomach," he said pretty quietly, glancing up at Party once before the redhead just sighed and nodded. 

At that point, Kobra had gotten up to leave when the door opened again. "What the fuck now?!" he practically whined until he saw Arms Race. The short little fucker went and left a quick kiss for the blonde before taking a step back and pausing to compose himself.

"There's another group of Killjoys dead. Two, actually. One of 'em was Green Day and the other was Blink-182." 

"Another?" Ghoul asked, looking towards them for an explanation.

It took a minute for it to arrive. "There's a new head exterminator...Korse...and he's actually good at his job. These make the seventh and eighth groups dead this month. We're...we're dying out. And we're not gonna make it much longer if things keep up like this," Arms Race said, taking several steps away from Kobra before the door opened again and American Psycho joined them, leaving a quick peck on Arms Race's cheek.

In that moment, Party Poison looked like he was about to murder his little brother.

"We need to sort out alliances, find the good Killjoys from the bad."

"We need a war."

"No, no we don't," Fun Ghoul argued, "we do not want a war."

"I agree with Ghoul. War is a bad idea, and most of you are inexperienced," Doctor Death agreed. "It's not a pretty thing."

"No, of course it isn't," Arms Race said, "but it would weed out the traitors and probably get the hotspots destroyed for where Korse goes looking."

"We already have a price on our heads," Kobra pointed out. "That would just multiply that price by ten. We'd probably be worth a million carbons apiece."

"You four, maybe," Psycho said, looking between them. "But I agree with Pete. I think this is a good idea."

Ghoul could be heard muttering "fuck me with a rusty spoon" under his breath.

Party Poison, standing there somewhat calmly now that he had his boyfriend in his arms (he was still gently squeezing every now and then like he was a human-sized teddy bear) decided to finally speak and end the discussion. "If you two are willing to get more Killjoys behind you and initiate it, then we'll stand with you. This won't end Better Living, but...it may buy us some time."

The room was quiet for a long time, extraordinarily tense, too until there was a wide-spread shock to the new voice. "We'll be with you too." Kobra recognized the voice as Blurryface's, though he was holding Violent Silence's hand as well. "That makes more than ten."

"Good enough for me. C'mon, 'Trick, let's go," Arms Race said, ushering the smaller man out the door and glancing back at Kobra once before shutting it behind them. 

And Party was polite. Party waited until Blurry and Silence had gone back to bed, Doctor Death had left, and both Ghoul and Kobra were sitting down before he flipped his shit.

"What the hell, Mikey?! Since when were you a home wrecker?!"

"I am not a home wrecker, Pete came to me first."

"They've been together for at least fifteen years by now, you can't tell me-"

"Alright, fine, whatever. I get it, but I'm not you. And just cause you fucked up in this area once doesn't mean that I'm gonna feel as guilty as you. Besides, times were different back then, and I'm not a kid anymore that you can order around. My life, my choices, so you can piss off when it comes to my love life."

Kobra was gone with a flash, leaving Party and Ghoul alone in the moonlit front room of the diner, the silence between them screaming until Ghoul leaned forward on the table. "I got shot just outside of Moscow," he started speaking to Party's surprise. "It was colder than a witch's tit up there, and they used snow to clean the wounds. I honestly thought I was gonna die."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I didn't die. The doctor said he was surprised at the shit I managed to pull through once he'd finished cleaning me up, and he asked how." Ghoul chuckled, his chin on his left arm while his right hand snaked over to take Party's. "I told him I cared an awful lot about someone, who'd done me wrong in the past, but I'd forgiven and grown to love again in less than a day."

Party playfully rolled his eyes, nudging the man across from him. "Don't lie, that's not funny."

"I'm not lying, nor am I laughing." Ghoul got up from his spot, looking back at Party and smiling faintly before heading back to pass out in bed before he did so on the floor.

Though, it all left the redhead thinking to himself- herself? themselves? No, himself for now- about what he'd just agreed to. War. He'd decided it was okay to go to war with Better Living and possibly loose everything he'd ever loved. He supposed that was a risk he'd have to be willing to take, but at the same time he wasn't sure if he could or not. Party would be fighting, ready to die for this cause, sure. Though at the same time, he just wasn't ready.

Because albeit fascinated with the idea of death, Party Poison didn't want to die. Not yet. 

Thinking about death convinced him to go to bed early, carefully cuddling Ghoul as he didn't want to hurt him, but also because he didn't want to let go, and because he wanted everything about the small man engraved in his memory in case they didn't live through the events that were about to unfold.

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heyo what's up it's time for me to continuously write this until i finish it because i'm getting close even though i don't think anyone reads it anymore it's still worth it to me to have another finished book under my belt so huzzah.

also stranger things is good.

<3 you guys, votes and comments are appreciated xoxo