It had been a week, though after three days Sunshine was able to confirm Ghoul was in a coma. Meaning he wouldn't be waking up for a while. Meaning he could never wake up and it would be Gerard's fault.
At least, that's what he told himself.
The conversation he had with Mikey hadn't gone well, and instead led to a rather heated argument between the two where the younger stormed off and had hardly spoken to the redhead since. Though, there he was, sitting with Brendon and Sinful Cyanide and pretending that there was nothing wrong between he and his brother. Like he hadn't just refused to tell the elder who the exterminator was.
It would take someone blind or seriously stupid to notice that the Kobra Kid was completely out of it. He seemed to be hating life, and everything it offered, though he kept a smile on his face and lied out his ass to the people he was sitting with now. Hiding behind that mask, he just was going through a world of hurt he didn't know how to cope with; but pride entailed he would not under any circumstance ask his brother for help.
Gerard was sitting with his cup of black coffee in a corner with the Youngbloods, trying to forget his conversation when he had to tell Vengeance what had happened. She immediately grabbed her guns, but Brendon was the one who stopped her; convincing her to stay and wait for the revenge she so desperately craved. In the fit of rage, she had "accidentally" blamed Party for both the apparent death of Ray and the state Ghoul was in.
He knew it was his fault, and that just made it more true.
"Party.. Hey, man... Earth to Party Poison! Hel-lo?!"
"Hm? What?"
Psycho was the one who resumed talking, though Party doubted it was him to originally spoke. "What's bothering you? Don't say nothing, cause that isn't true." After he didn't respond, only sipped his coffee and pretended to be intrigued with his drawing pad Psycho started talking again. "Come on... Tell your uncle Patrick what's wrong."
"Nothing."
"Bullshit!" It was Arms Race that had spoken, knowing full well Psycho would never call him out like that. In fact, the slightly shorter man shot him a glare.
"Nothing..."
"Bullshit!" Arms Race repeated.
"Nothing, god dammit!"
"That's bull-fuckin-shit and you know it!"
The Roadhouse had gone quiet, most eyes turned towards Pete and Gerard as they stood to argue. "If something was wrong, and I wanted to tell you, I would!"
"But something is wrong, and something's been wrong for the past week ever since fucking- oh. Shit." Arms Race didn't sit down, though being shorter than Party anyways wasn't a fantastic thing when it came to imitating anybody.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Fucking spit it out!" Party spat at Arms Race, clenching his fist.
"Where's your boyfriend, huh?! Is he ever gonna wake up?! No! Who's fucking fault is that?!"
Party's fist collided with Arms Race's face, both Patrick and Joe immediately moving to hold back the redhead. Kobra sat in shock, watching his fuming brother wrestle against the two to just get at Arms Race.
"You sonuvabitch!"
There was nothing else Mikey could do, he had to intervene. Standing up, he made his way over to the four- his brother wrestling with no hope against Missile and Psycho, while Arms Race proceeded to spit out insults like seeds. Shoving the two away from each other, forcing Pete onto his ass and Gerard tumbling back into Psycho and Missile.
"Both of you just stop for the love of all that is holy!"
It was the first time the entire week they'd hear Mikey speak. Well, not for Brendon and Ryan, but the others hadn't heard his voice for awhile. Arms Race especially was shocked, though he got back to his feet after a minute of silence.
"Jesus, you guys act like you're fucking five. Grow up."
And with that, Mikey was once again gone. Gone from Gerard, gone from Pete, and gone from the other Youngbloods. Even what remained of the Sinners didn't see him again for the rest of the day. The blonde had just retreated outside to go have his second to last cigarette and watch the desert.
Great, Gerard could hear himself thinking, I screwed it up with Mikey again. When am I just gonna be able to do something right for once?
Arms Race didn't apologize, though neither did Party for that matter. It was early as fuck, and Party hadn't even finished his coffee yet. The redhead simply took the cup and moved away from them; though Psycho was secretly adorable and nice, Missile was really just a softie on the inside, and Novocaine...how does one even begin to describe him? Gerard just couldn't handle breathing the same air as Arms Race at the moment, which may have been for the better.
- X -
He was sitting atop a parade float, Ghoul was. Looking down upon his strange-looking friends with his favorite guitar in hand and his jacket nice and tight like he preferred it. If this was heaven, he was in love with it. All his favorite people with him, playing music whenever they felt like it and for as long as they felt like. Helping people get through to death. He had to say, it was quite the experience. But he loved it.
"Frankie!" It was Gerard calling. His hair was snow white and he was thinner than Ghoul remembered, but nonetheless the Gerard he knew and loved.
"Yes?"
The taller waved him down, Frank keeping his cool as he made a jump that would have broken his leg were he not in this alternate universe...reality...dimension place that he didn't quite understand yet. Ray was casually sitting behind Gerard with Mikey, the one Frank now knew to be called Bob just a few feet behind them.
"It's almost time," Gerard began, looking at Frank somewhat expectantly.
"What do you mean? Time for what?"
Mikey stood, making his way around Gerard to hold Frank by his shoulders. For whatever reason, being here had brought Frank and Mikey closer together than they had been before; which for Frank was weird but for this alternate Mikey it was normal. "Look, Frank, there isn't any easy way saying this, but it's almost time for you to join us." This Mikey had nice dark hair, which Frank found, well, frankly attractive. Though the taller paused, hesitating before speaking again, "for real and forever this time."
Frank stood, speechless as he looked between Gerard and Ray- hell, even Bob- before returning his gaze to Mikey. "You mean... Like my body dies? But I was only sixteen-"
"It's been two whole months, Frank. Maybe it's time to move on." Mikey was doing his best to be gentle, as they had to with Bob at first, but that was different.
"B-but what about the other yous? Jet, Kobra, and Party? You three haven't been pulled here yet-"
"They'll be fine..." Mikey didn't sound sure, Frank could tell, but there wasn't much else he could respond with that wasn't a series of 'uhms' or 'buts'.
"Mikey..." Ray stood as he spoke, waving off the dark-haired eyeliner-covered Mikey, who truth be told looked like he was forever stuck in his emo phase. "Truth be told, Frank, you don't have to join us. Not yet."
"I don't?"
"You do have the chance for a life, but it's completely up to you whether you live or die. Because once you choose to die, there is no going back whatsoever. You have the choice, Frank, but not whether or not you become a ghost. Once you're with us, where you're meant to be in the afterlife, you can't leave to do what you want and explore. The job is too taxing- there are always people dying that need our guidance to the other side; to peace and acceptance. Yes, you will occasionally go out to comfort someone in their final days, but that's such a rarity that it only happens once a year or so." Ray's words held no comfort for Frank as the frizzy-haired death marcher explained. "We know all the different ways we could die, too. It's just a matter of would you want the knowledge of when someone you love could die, or what you could have done to stop them, or...or..."
"You don't have to keep explaining, I understand..." Frank mumbled. He was getting the impression Ray didn't want him to stay, which was helping him in the long run. "Just wondering... when is the soonest and latest I could die? Hypothetically speaking."
"Uhm..." Ray stepped back. He had always been the psychic of the group, it seemed, his breakfast more often than not serving as his crystal ball. "Soonest? Now, obviously. Sometime in the future? Thirty nine or forty from cancer."
"Would I have been happy?"
It was Mikey's turn to speak- though Frank found it odd that the one who was always so expressionless when he was around was the one to tell him about his life. "Yeah, you could say that. Family of sorts, long past behind you, dying with your boots tight and your gun close-" Mikey shook his head, clearly unsure as to why he said that. Frank knew."In the middle of an attack, I suppose, is when it took you. My... Gerard, would die at the same time in that case."
"It's inevitable, Frank. You will get cancer, even if you don't die from it." Gerard was the one who spoke, a great pain in his voice as he did.
"But there are...ways to survive..." Mikey pointed out.
"I want to live, I don't want to die at fucking sixteen."
The brothers looked at each other, but Ray spoke the final words Frank heard from the death marchers. "When you do die, we will always be here to greet you."
- X -
Frank woke up.
He didn't expect to wake up so soon, but he did.
At first he was confused, because he had a weird jumbled dream that was a complete mess.
Next to him was American Psycho, who was talking quietly. Fun Ghoul (he supposed he could actually call himself this again) looked at the shorter man and fidgeted. He was blinking rapidly, trying to force the sleep from his eyes and trying to move anything other than his toes.
"Gh-ghoul?"
"Hrumph?"
"You're awake... Oh you're awake!" Psycho bolted upright, moving to the door. "Guys! Ghoul's awake!"
"Are you gonna tell the whole fucking world?"
"Holy smokes you're awake!"
"Yeah, I know." Ghoul rolled his eyes, "help me sit up."
Psycho did as asked, while Ghoul thought over everything that he had dreamed of. The parade, the people...oh, all the people he was able to help! At least, he thought it was helping. Ghoul couldn't know for sure, he could only guess that they were happy in the end and gone to do what they felt they needed. Go into the afterlife- whether that meant as a ghost to watch over the living die to personal reasons or moving on...wherever moving on took you. Ghoul didn't know, and he didn't pretend to know.
That was when he saw Kobra enter the room. Seeing him blonde and not very emo anymore was a quick jolt back to reality, the eyeliner being gone a major point. "Frank!" he exclaimed, rushing over to the still waking up Killjoy. "We thought you weren't gonna wake up..."
Ghoul almost told him about what had happened when he was sleeping, he really did. But logic kept him from doing so, as he instead chose to wrap his arms around the Kobra Kid. "I don't know how I did, to be honest."
"It's been months. Almost three."
"I...don't know. There are some things that are fuzzy."
"Psycho, will you get Sunshine? She needs to know what happened. Oh, and radio to Missile and Novocaine, aren't they with Party? He's gonna want to come back."
"Done!"
Psycho was gone in a few moments, grinning while Kobra just sat with Ghoul. The blonde had the smallest smile, though it may not have been much Ghoul still appreciated it. He was just glad to know he was safe and very not dead. That was more of a relief than anything. As Kobra was explaining what happened after Frank crashed the car and slipped unconscious, Sunshine Gunner stepped inside the room to start checking Ghoul over.
"But Ray is dead..." Kobra mumbled at the end, looking down towards the ground. Ghoul looked down, unable to bring himself to point out that Ray wasn't dead yet- he wasn't part of the Black Parade.
"Shit." It didn't feel genuine, but there wasn't anything else he could think to say. Thinking back, he could feel his fear beginning to grow and radiate. Speaking of Ray, he had said Ghoul would get cancer. He was going to die sooner than later, and probably be lucky if he made it to fifty. Though he may not feel entirely afraid of death, he didn't want to die. Actually, what he wanted to do was be alone for a good cry. He needed it, painful to admit but he did. Ghoul just wanted to be alone for when that happened.
Soon enough, he was alone in a room dedicated to him upstairs. Just for the time being, until Sunshine decided she could let him more than a mile away from her. He wanted to go home- he missed home. He needed home.
But what home was there?
The car that used to be the closest thing to a home they had was destroyed, completely totaled and left in Battery City forever; while they had no other place to stay but here or out on the road. Ghoul let himself cry at this point- he was good and alone and he had no safe place. He was cold, but he wouldn't do anything about it. Maybe they could go back to the Diner Jet Star had taken them to. Doctor Death Defying had said it would be alright if they ever wanted to live there with some other Killjoys until they got the equivalent of a fraternity house. There was a nice place out in Zone Five where they could live too- an old gas station / diner that was currently uninhabited and hidden more or less. It was perfect, but not yet home.
Jet Star was gone too. Who had him, where he was... All the questions poured through Ghoul's mind as his big brother figure remained gone. Perhaps until he died once more.
Ghoul buried his face in his hands, trying to calm himself down or just stop crying (his head was very done with the whole 'eyes leaking onto his cheeks' thing), but he couldn't. Instead, less than five minutes later a pair of arms wrapped around the youngest, the figure behind them murmuring "You're okay, I promise. I'll keep you safe."
- - - - -
So I don't know what happened?? liek why was bob here?
Frank apparently went to the Black Parade and was about to die, so idk. It really just came to me in the hour of 'I need an update for today' and I liked it.
This shit went hardcore Frerard, but I promise it won't be this heavy forever.
OH. And everything said is kinda maybe important but also shameless self promotion (Disenchanted if you're curious).
So yeah, don't kill me.
<3