no room for ghosts // Danger Days

what's so good about picking up the pieces?

He sits in the waiting room, though he isn't waiting for anyone.

Or that's what he tells himself.

He keeps looks around for a familiar head of blond hair.

He knows that this is on the opposite side of the hospital from the therapy wing, but it doesn't stop him from looking up every time someone moves.

What would he even do if he saw his brother again?

Say, "Hey. I'm sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth and leaving as soon as you woke up. I have too much self-loathing I need to take care of and I can't look at you without remembering it."

He shakes his head. Maybe it's better off this way.

¬¬¬¬

Jet Star sits Fun Ghoul on the chair, and handcuffs him to it.

The latter is completely high, and unaware of what's going on.

Jet walks out.

"Gasoline, Venom. Keep an eye on him."

The two female Killjoys nods.

Jet is full out running as soon as he leaves the building. The first time in a year, Party's been out where he can find him.

¬¬¬¬

Mikey sits, cross legged on the bed drawing with his red marker.

Four scribbles resembling people sit on the page.

One is really, really small.
One has crazy curly hair.

And the other two are holding hands. One has bright red hair and a wobbly smile. The other is Mikey himself.

He carefully writes His name in the corner, getting frustrated at the shaky-ness of his letters.

He throws the markers at the wall, the paper slipping to the floor.

The red one is the only one with the lid off, creating a large red streak across the wall.

Mikey stares at it, tears silently flowing down his cheeks.

He doesn't know he's crying. He doesn't know why he's crying.

He just stares at the red. And stares and stares and stares.

"B-Br-Brother....?"

¬¬¬¬

Ella runs her hand across her face, and rubs her temples trying to lessen the headache throbbing in her skull.

She doesn't like hospitals. That's another thing she's sure of.

A chart sits on the table next to her bed.

Blunt force trama.
Concussion.
Dehydration.

She groans loudly and puts it back.

A Doctor comes in, holding a clip-board.

"Good Evening, Miss...."

He looks through some papers, frowning.

"It seems we don't have your name." he flips some papers back down, "That isn't unusual though. They're still trying to rebuild the database. Could you give me your name?"

The impulse to lie is strong, some deep down instinct, and the fact that she's just now figured out her own name.

"Lyn-Z."

"Well, Miss Lyn-Z. The good news is you should be out of here by tonight."

¬¬¬¬

"No!!" Party yells, loudly at Jet.

They're both standing, glaring at each other in the waiting room. Party's eyes are wide and vibrant, whereas Jet's are dark and narrowed.

"We used to be a team." Jet says, lowly, "Doesn't that mean anything to you."

"It meant the world to me, Jet!! But look what It's done!! Dr. D's gone. Cherri's gone. Kobra-Mikey is as good as gone. Umbrella..." Party's hands tug viciously at his hair, "S-She's gone."

The doors open and both their heads turn.

A girl with short, choppy, light brown hair stands with her hands on the doors.

There's a wicked gleam in her eyes, one that seems vaguely familiar to the two men.

"Which one of you smashed a glass bottle against my skull?"

The question is said calmly, though the tremble in her hands gives away the anger.

Jet turns, stunned, to Party, who just raises his hand.

¬¬¬¬

Ella approaches him, her eyes going over every inch of him. His eyes are red and swollen but not from crying. His hands seems to eternally shake.

She carefully approaches him with confident strides.

Something about him seems familiar, though She didn't know he was having those sane thoughts.

Jet looks between the two, there's less then a foot of space separating the man and woman.

She opens her mouth to speak, as Party's eyes meet hers.

I'm really loving this!!

Also, the names Gasoline and Venom are a tribute to kaleidoscope-memes who causes me so much pain with amazing fanfictions. So, go check those out.