Chapter 6

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In celebration of M A N I A, I want to put more of the Youngbloods in this chapter. It seems like I've been focusing on the Killjoys and the Banditos more, so I want to provide some backstory and more of a plot for the Youngbloods.
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~Mr. Benzedrine's POV~

After spending a few minutes conversing with each other on finalized plans, we go back to our vehicles and grab our belongings. I pull out a worn quilt that I've had as long as I can remember, and we walk back to the church, claiming pews and settling down. When my eyes finally find rest, I'm not pleased with what I see.

~y'all know the drill, this is a dream~

Memories flood back: IVs, women wearing black, a hospital, a red truck, a peregrine falcon flying across the sky. A gas station, chloroform, a black van, a bicycle, a house with a plastic bag hanging on the doorknob. the story of how we got here. I may not have been there for most of it, but I've heard the story from Pete enough times for it to seem like I was.

Once the memories stop flooding my brain, I find myself in a trailer park. Everything is in black and white, like an old movie. It's quiet, and I'm not sure where exactly I am.

Then, I hear footsteps walking in my direction.

I turn towards the noise and see something I haven't seen in years.

Patrick. With yellow irises.

The few times I've experienced him with those eyes have been relatively benign, as Andy would rush us into the basement and lock us down there while trying to calm Patrick down, but they were unsettling enough for me to feel a bit panicked. There's no basement this time, just a few yards' worth of open space.

I turn and start to run, now noticing the bass-turned-sword I'm holding in my hand. If things take a turn for the worse, I guess I'll have to use this to defend myself. Feeling him hot on my tail, I do my best to evade him, but I'm not going as fast as I'd like.

Eventually, Patrick catches up to me, and we start fighting, me with my pseudo-sword and him with his hook. I seem to be able to hold myself well enough, but I'm still struggling.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen, and I realize that Patrick has stabbed me. Looking up at him, I return the favor, and I see the yellow drain from his eyes, replaced with blue. We stare at each other for a moment before collapsing, losing consciousness.

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"Wilson!"
My eyes flutter open, and I sit up, gasping. Pete sits next to me, having been trying to wake me up.
"Nightmares?" he asks, worry in his gaze.
"Yeah," I answer, noticing my voice is now much higher. I'm still dreaming.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I think for a moment, then decide to tell him.
"I was standing in a trailer park, and it looked like an black and white movie." Pete grows distant for a moment, then turns to me.
"Go on," he says.
"I heard footsteps and saw Patrick, but his eyes were yellow. I tried running away, but he chased after me and we started fighting and then he stabbed me and..."
"Whoa, calm down, it was just a dream," he says, having that look in his eyes again. Why was he so bothered?
"Yeah, I know. It just felt real."
"How bout you try getting some more sleep? We're going on a trip tomorrow."
"Really?" I say excitedly. We don't leave the old recording studio that often.
"Yeah. It'll be a long journey, so you should get some rest."
"Alright," I respond, settling back down into my bed. "Goodnight, Pete."
"Goodnight, Wilson."

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I open my eyes to see the sun flooding through what's left of the windows in the church. I sit up slowly, stretching my arms and yawning.

"What's this? Wilson getting a healthy amount of sleep?" I hear behind me, and I turn to see Winona gasping in mock surprise. Violet stands behind her, giggling quietly.
"Don't make fun of my sleep schedule, Winona," I chuckle, punching her in the arm.
"Fine, you got it, chief," she comments, Violet now laughing harder. I think it's become my favorite sound.

"Any reason why you two decided to come by?" I ask.
"Yes actually," Violet says, having regained her composure. "We need to leave in about 45 minutes. Get your stuff and drop by the warehouse to get a can of beans for the road." She and Winona start walking off.  "You could even get peaches, if you're lucky!"

I laugh and tug on my brown combat boots and jean vest, covering the faded violet tee beneath it. The graphics have since faded, but I can still make out the letters M, I, and A, a wave, and the word Fall. It's kinda weird now that I think about it, but hey: it's comfortable. Returning my gun to its dark holster, I walk outside the church and return my quilt to the rest of my stuff in Violet's Trans Am, and I jog over to the warehouse across the street. I am met by a two Sinners standing next to a few crates.

"Here's a few cans for the road," the first says, placing a few in my backpack.
"Have a safe trip," the other says with a smile, and I walk away from the flamboyantly dressed pair, towards the vehicles. A group has already formed there, made up of the people that are coming.

"Is everyone ready?" I ask. After everyone shows consent by some manner, I walk over to the Trans Am and open the passenger side door. "Then let's get going."

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~Alyssa POV~

Tyler and I have practically been attached at the hip all day. We grew up together, it's only natural that we'd be reluctant to leave each other's sides after being separated for so long. Today in particular, the Banditos decided to celebrate our recent victories. It was loud, fires were burning, and we were all filled with a sense of euphoria, especially those that were still new to our culture.

After what felt like hours, the noise had begun to lessen, and we settled around campfires. Tyler and I had decided on a circle near the edge of camp, sitting across from a few other Banditos, their names being Jericho and Brooklyn. We engaged in a quiet conversation as Tyler marveled at the flames in front of him. It'd been so long since he'd seen a source of warmth and light that wasn't encased in glass.

"Well," I finally comment, "it's getting a bit late, and we've had a long day. I'm going to go sleep, you can stay here if you want."
"I'll probably try sleeping too, but I want to stay here for a few more minutes," Tyler remarks, a bit distracted by the flames.
"Alright, when you're ready there's an extra cot in Josh's tent." I stand, walking towards my tent and stepping inside. Sitting down at the desk, I open up the dark box in front of me, where I see dozens of pictures, journal entries, and a few cassette tapes and CDs. After sifting through it, I find what I'm looking for: a single picture, faded and torn at the edges.

It's a shot of Tyler, Josh, and I, taken by Mark during the summer of 2021, the year before everything changed. Josh's mohawk and lip ring immediately jump out at me, as well as my long curls and the lack of tattoos on both of the boys. Our faces are bright, smiles shining as we laugh at one of the many inside jokes we've since forgotten. It's a snapshot of life when things were simpler, less chaotic. Life before DEMA.

I frown, missing my old life, before putting it back in the box and turning to my cot. After sitting on it and removing my boots, I lie down, pulling my quilt over my small frame. I start to doze off, hoping to have a good nights' sleep, when someone barges into the tent, panting.

"Alyssa!" I turn to them.
"What is it, Jericho?" I ask, sitting up and removing the quilt.
"It's Tyler and Josh," he says, a mix of fear and uncertainty in his dark eyes. "They're gone."

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Hey, everyone! Hope you're having an awesome week. Make sure to vote and comment or whatever if you enjoyed it.

I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible; wheels are finally turning.

Goodnight,

-Amy

𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 (An Emo Quartet Crossover AU)Where stories live. Discover now