FicWad

Gerard Way didn`t believe in perfection, he never had. In fact you could go as far as to say that the once long and raven haired singer hated that word, and the meaning it supposedly held. Even as a young child of around seven or eight, he had always had his doubts about the world and how perfect and great it really was. it was at the tender young age of twelve, when his beloved, silver haired Grandmother had passed away, cruelly taken away from Gerard and his family, before he had even had much chance to know her.
Since that day, Gerard Way had realised that the world was not perfect, it was far from it and he had slowly became more bitter and full of loathing. He loathed himself, other people and above all the world for being so cold and for trying to tell him who he could and couldn’t be.
Throughout his teenage years he struggled with a lot of things, himself mainly. He was tired of trying to live up to everyone’s expectations of him; he just wanted to be free of the chains of doubt that kept holding him down. The world gave him foolish ideas, planted miserable feelings and thoughts inside his head, made him believe he had to try and be somebody other than himself.
Then he met his future wife. Her name was Lindsey and she was the most stunningly beautiful girl the twenty something Gerard had ever laid his hazel green eyes on. With her silky long hair and inquisitive eyes, her amazing, weird sense of humour and kind generosity, Gerard soon fell in love with her. He would have been a fool not to.
After a few short, but incredibly happy years together, after Gerard`s younger brother, Mikey and his friends, Ray and Frank had given him the support and courage to ask her out, they had married. It was a small but wonderful, joyous occasion. A while later they had a daughter, a beautiful, smiling baby girl they named Bandit.
For the very first time in a long time, possibly even in his whole life, Gerard was truly happy. He still wasn’t certain whether true perfection was possible of existing, but he knew, in his heart of hearts, that this was the closet any one person could ever be to it.
But Gerard`s happy, possibly even perfect life did not last. It was ripped away from him in the blink of an eye.
…
The four brightly, rebelliously dressed Fabulous Killjoys were sat in the dirty, beat up old Trans am, steadily speeding towards Better Living Industries headquarters. They sat in silence, knowing that it was very likely that they would not all live to see the next day. The four men had no choice though; they simply had to save the young, bright and cheerful girl that they kept with them. They could not let the monsters harm her in any way, they refused to break their long ago promise to her.
As they drive down the long, dark tunnel they pass signs, the flame haired leader narrows his hazel green eyes, glaring up silently at one in particular, his already fiercely tight grip on the wheel getting tighter, his knuckles white as he gripped it. The sign read “everything is perfect,” All four of them knew that the bastards at BL/ind wouldn`t know perfect if it snuck up behind them and tied their shoelaces together. Perfection didn’t exist, and if it did, those monsters wouldn`t know a thing about it.
Better Living industries idea of perfection was a perfect hell.
And that face-that horrid, stupid, God damn smiley face was everywhere. Poison hated it, it created a false sense of calm, of happiness that clearly didn`t exist and if it did, it was only due to the pills.
A short while later in the near distance a white toll barrier came into view, where a few dracs were patrolling. Revving the engine, keeping his face blank Party Poison put his foot down, slamming through the barrier, knocking the evil being over. His eyes flickered slightly, but apart from that he showed no emotion, just like his friends.
That was both a good and bad thing about being a killjoy; you had very little capability of showing much emotion. It was dangerous to grow too attached to things, to care. You never knew when it would be cruelly taken from you. The only thing they cared about now was each other, and taking out as many of the evil bastards as they could.

The four killjoys shot their way easily into the evil, soulless building, determined expressions on their otherwise emotionless faces. They were scared, terrified, but they could not and would not let it show.
If they had to die to save the little kid, then they would die.