FicWad

AN: This is where the fun starts! Title from LeATHERMOUTH. It doesn't have much to do with the chapter, but DAMN it's a good song! (Especially Frank's screaming at the end. I don't know why, but that's my favourite part). - Noise

The first shot was almost expected.

They'd been waiting in the car for nearly a day, each breath light and short. They had barely even dared to blink, knowing that if they weren't paying attention, they might not ever open their eyes again. The inside of the Trans-Am was stifling hot, but Party had refused to open a window. It was, after all, supposed to be unoccupied.

"Party?"

The red-haired man flinched, not prepared for the sudden voice of his friend. His head hit the dash with enough force to almost make him cry out. Party Poison bit his tongue, his teeth sinking into the muscle deep enough to draw blood. "Yeah, Jet?"

"Do you think it's safe?" asked Jet, hidden behind the passenger seat. From his position underneath the steering wheel, Party could only see his door handle and a section of the driver's side window. His middle was slumped over the console while his feet were touching the passenger door.

"I fuckin' hope so! I'm sick of your feet in my face!"

Party sighed. Kobra Kid was in a similar position as his elder brother, only in the opposite direction. The result of this had been a full sixteen hours with Poison's mud-caked boots hanging over his nose. After about ten minutes of having little flecks of dirt hit his hair, Kobra's short temper had been driven into overdrive.

"I think we're okay," said Party, ignoring the way his brother's boot was shaking impatiently over his head. "There's no way a drac would still be-"

A flash of deadly neon interrupted him mid-sentence, announcing the presence of their enemy. Sixteen hours ago, they'd been parked next to the shell of a house when a group of dracs had spotted the car. The Killjoys had managed to hide just in time, but they weren't stupid enough to assume that the dracs wouldn't recognise the Trans-Am. This first laser-beam probably meant that the dracs were finished with waiting, and were now shooting to stir the Killjoys up a bit.

Party held his breath, hoping that the lack of reaction would send the dracs away from their location. Maybe if no one moved, they would live.

Unfortunately, things didn't work that way. No sooner than Party started breathing again, another shot was fired. Glass flew as they beam shattered the driver's window, most of it landing on Party's jacket.

'Well,' he thought grimly. 'Time to move.'

He and Kobra untangled themselves from each other and launched into action, sitting up straight in their respective seats and pulling out their weapons. Movement behind him told Party that Jet Star had done the same. Without waiting for another shot, Party turned the key in the ignition and stomped on the gas. The car lurched forward, sending up a cloud of dust as the wheels screamed.

"Jet, Kobra!" Poison barked. "You know what to do!"

Kobra gave his brother a smirk before opening his window and sticking his arm out. The gun and his hand let loose a steady stream of light as Kobra fired wildly, the sound being swallowed by the rush of air as the car sped off. Jet cheered loudly and fired his own weapon, hitting a drac in the stomach. The drac stiffened and toppled over, his white suit slamming into the earth while the sun sank behind him.

Poison smiled at his friends' enthusiasm. It had been days since their last clap with a group of dracs, and they'd all been itching for another. He gripped the wheel tighter and laughed, sending the car swerving around to charge at the enemy with merciless speed. His hair blew around him, a wild shock of red in the dying sunlight.

"Seventeen seconds to impact!" Jet yelled. "Sixteen! Fifteen!"

"Fourteen! Thirteen!" Kobra hollered, still firing at the dracs. His aim was terrible, but Poison could tell he was enjoying himself too much to care.

"Twelve! Eleven! Ten!" Party crowed. His mouth was streaked with blood from the cut on his tongue. He wiped it with his hand.

"Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!"

There was something familiar about the drac closest to them, something about his short stature that made Poison stop laughing.

"Five! Four!"

The drac was screaming in terror, his voice muffled by the mask that covered his face. The car was zooming toward him fast enough to kill on impact.

"Three!"

The mask was torn from the drac's face, revealing a spill of messy brown hair. His eyes were huge and horrified, a shade of green that was so well-known by Party that he was screaming too.

"Two!"

It was only Jet counting now. Kobra was too busy staring in shock at the brown-haired man they were about to crash into.

Party felt vomit rise in his throat.

"One!"

"SCRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

Party Poison jerked the wheel violently to the right at the same time the drac jumped to the left, dirt flying into the air light a hail of bullets.

Heh. Bullets. Like their album.

Tears were burning in Party's eyes as the name of their first album rose to his memory: 'I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love'. They had been so proud of themselves for thinking of the title. It had been the beginning of a long line of hits and albums. Revenge, The Black Parade... They had been on top of the world.

Mikey, the bass player that was now screaming and crying in the passenger seat. He'd been such a strong part of the band, someone that had made such a difference in their lives without being aware of it.

Ray, the guitar player. He was currently throwing himself out of the back door as the Trans-Am screeched to a halt, shouting a name into the desert as he ran. Ray had held the band together when things were difficult. He had been the best guitar player they'd known. They'd called him the man with the plan.

Gerard, the singer. Party remembered his past like it hadn't been six years ago. He remembered the darkness of his life when the band had started out, and the brightness of his life when he'd fallen in love with his wife. His friends had been there for him through everything, and he'd done the same for them. He had wanted to save lives, and he had done it.

Finally, Frank. That energetic guitarist that had captured their hearts without even trying, always telling jokes and making people laugh. Even when he'd been sick, he gave everything he had to make people smile. He had been Party's best friend, when they were still My Chemical Romance. That had been before the apocalypse had come, before they had been forced to run from BL/ind. Frank had fought hard for three years by their side before a clap had taken a turn for the worst. He had been captured by a group of dracs, and Party had almost killed himself for letting them take his Frankie. Only the hope of finding him again had kept him from pulling the trigger.

It had been four years. They had given up.

And now Frank was lying motionless in the dirt, his face pressed into the earth next to his mask.

Party tore the his door open, dashing into the desert without even bothering to see if Kobra was following. "FRANK!" he screamed, his voice shredded by sobs. "FRANK! FRANKIE!"

Jet Star had already reached their former bandmate, turning him over gently with his hands. Franks' eyes were closed. Party skidded to a halt beside him and dropped to his knees, searching desperately for a flicker of life in Frank's body. Kobra was still screaming as he ran to them, crashing into Jet and knocking him over. Poison ignored his fellow Killjoys and pressed a finger to Frank's neck to look for a pulse.

No sooner had his finger touched the skin of Frank's throat than Franks' eyes flown open. He gasped, jerking into a sitting position and scrambling away from Poison as if he'd held a knife to his neck. Party felt his heart tear a little as his friend cowered next to the drac's car.

"G-G-Get th-the f-f-f-fuck away from me!" Frank commanded, his hand searching blindly over the ground, possibly for a gun. Party felt nauseated. Had Frank been the one who had shot at them? Why?!

"Calm down, Frankie." That was Jet's voice. Party didn't turn his gaze away from Frank, but he knew from the shadows that stretched in front of him that Jet and Kobra had their hands up and were approaching them cautiously. "It's just us."

Franks' eyes widened. "Who's 'us'?" he asked in a shaky voice. "Killjoys?"

Shock ripped through Party's body, causing him to tremble. "You don't remember us?"

"Party," came Kobra's voice. "I think he's..."

Party shook his head. He didn't want to believe it. This was Frank! Frank wouldn't be...

The shorter man was still shaking against the car, his white suit covered in patches of dirt. His hair was no longer dyed black, just his natural colour of dark brown. His greenish eyes were hollow and blank despite his obvious fear.

Frank wasn't himself anymore.

Frank was BL/ind.

AN: Ooooh! What happens next? Depending on the response, I might tell you sooner. - Noise