Unholyverse

~Part 10~

"Don't move!" Frank warned Mark. He quickly filled in the third diamond and re-dipped the brush, dragging it in as smooth a line as he could manage, to close the circle. "Okay, Danny, get over here."

"Make it quick, Frank!" Craig said, jittering in his seat, hands pounding the wheel.

"Brian?" Frank called, yanking Danny's sleeve up so he could get to work.

"I'm okay!" Brian didn't sound okay: when Frank risked a look he had one Hood's arm hooked tight around his neck and was fending another one off with his feet. No part of him was touching the ground - it was fucking impressive.

"Shit, shit, shit," Frank chanted under his breath, working as quick as he could. The van rocked again and Frank lifted the brush just in time to stop the design being ruined. "Do you need my help?"

"I got it," Mark said, climbing over Frank's feet.

"Mark, no!" Craig shouted, but it was too late, Mark launched himself at the guy choking Brian and started pounding the shit out of him, in a frenzy; when Frank finished Danny's symbol and looked up, he was pretty sure Mark was even using his teeth.

"Get in, get in!" Frank yelled, leaning out of the van to grab at Mark and pull him back to safety. Brian writhed and kicked until he was free too, launching himself into the van and slamming the door shut just as Craig hit the gas and they went screeching back towards the house.

"Won't they follow us?" Mark leaned over the passenger seat, trying to look in the rearview mirror.

"Hence the painting," Frank said, leaning forward to inspect Brian's lip, which was split and bleeding. "They won't be able to get in, don't worry."

Brian batted him away, pulling his T-shirt up and pressing it against his lip to soak up the blood. "Guess you'll have to add your gates to that insurance claim, Craig."

"Guess so," Craig said. "But that's okay. This is so exciting, isn't it?"

Frank leaned back against the side of the van and closed his eyes. "Not the word I would use, my man."

When they got back to the house, they took the kids straight to the living room. Gerard was sitting on the couch - he looked pale and pinched around the eyes, but his face split into a huge smile when he saw Danny and Mark.

"You're okay!" he exclaimed, getting up and doing a weird abortive back-and-forth shuffle that was, knowing Gerard, him going to hug them, then thinking better of it.

Danny, it seemed, had no such reservations. He broke from his brother and threw himself at Gerard, hugging him tight around the waist. "They told us you died," he said, muffled. "I thought we killed you."

"No," Gerard said gently, squeezing Danny's shoulders. He looked over to Mark, who was hovering anxiously in the doorway. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you," Mark blurted, his eyes twitching between the window and Gerard. "They were - they were different than we thought."

"You're safe now," said Gerard. "Nothing is going to hurt you here, I promise."

Mark's shifty gaze settled on Mikey. "Sorry I threatened to shoot you," he mumbled.

Mikey moved one shoulder slightly. "'S'cool."

While Craig fussed over the kids, getting them drinks and snacks and out of their creepy hooded robes, they tried to answer Gerard's questions.

"There doesn't seem to be a - what was the word you used?" Danny wrinkled his nose.

"Hierarchy," Gerard repeated.

"Right. One of them. They're sort of - you ever seen Dawn of the Dead?"