FicWad

AN: Okay, I lied. I'm posting a day late. Sue me. Title from the Pixies - Noise

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Their reunion with Frank should have been something good. Whenever he'd thought of it, Party had pictured himself crashing through the doors of a BL/ind tower, eliminating the dracs that swarmed inside, and leaving with his best friend striding confidently at his side. He had imagined neon sparks lighting up a clear night, motors running, hearts pounding as they escaped Battery City.

Instead, Party Poison slumped against the car, his odd-coloured eyes staring at the layers of dirt and grime that covered the vehicle's sides. It needed a wash. Poison needed a drink.

It had been years since he'd thought about alcohol, but now it plagued his thoughts and tugged at his brain without rest. 'A few sips of vodka and this could all go away,' his mind whispered. He wouldn't need to see Jet keeping guard over Frank a few feet away, he wouldn't see Kobra pacing next to the remains of the other drac, and he certainly wouldn't need to see Frank gnawing at the ropes around his wrists.

He could simply forget and slip away.

For the first time in seven years, Poison could almost see the appeal in BL/ind medication.

"Listen, you multicoloured freaks!" Frank was yelling. "I am under strict orders to return to Battery City after exterminating your asses! Untie me and get it over with!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Party witnessed Kobra stop his pacing to stare at their ex-bandmate. Frank's expression was one of fear and rage, but his eyes remained blank and glazed. Party swallowed the vile that rose in his throat, instead focusing on the reflection of the moon in the Trans-Am's windows.

"Party! Listen to me!"

His head snapped in Jet Star's direction, ready to tell him off for startling him. It was bad enough that Frank was BL/ind; he didn't need to be yelled at. "What?" he hissed.

Jet's frown became deeper, making Poison wince guiltily. Kobra moved closer to them, kicking Frank's draculoid mask in frustration as he passed it. Party didn't blame him. He'd be happy to see the wretched thing lit on fire and the ashes smeared across Korse's sneering little face.

"I think I know what we need to do," said Jet, ignoring Kobra's diva kick. "We need to get Frank to Zone 7 for detox."

Poison's head snapped in Frank's direction, searching for a reaction. There wasn't one. It would seem that BL/ind had successfully wiped his mind when he'd been captured.

Kobra snorted. "Oh sure, Jet," he said miserably. "Why don't we take a drac into the heart of Killjoy territory? And what do you mean, 'detox'?"

Party glared at his brother, grinding his teeth together to keep from screaming at him. What had happened to the Mikey Way he remembered, the one who actually thought before he spoke?

'Oh, that's right,' Poison thought. 'He spent seven years living in hell with nothing to eat but freakin' Power Pup! That's enough to drive anyone crazy.'

"You're not taking me anywhere!" Frank snapped, pulling uselessly at the ropes that bound his hands together. "Let me go!"

Jet rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his thick hair. "He's on the drug, right? So we take him to Zone 7, wait until it wears off, and presto! We get our obnoxious little shit back!"

Kobra narrowed his eyes. "It's that easy, huh?"

Party had to admit the plan was a little far-fetched. Surely Korse would have come up with a long-term technique of brainwashing his victims? And even if he hadn't, who was to guarantee that Frank would ever be the same? He'd seen victims of the drug go for two whole weeks before effects started to wear off, and even then their personalities had been dulled.

"You got a better idea?" Jet demanded, swatting at Frank's head when he tried to bite Jet's hand. "Knock it off! Look, Dr. D's supposed to be broadcasting there for a while. Show Pony'll be there; he'll know what to do."

Poison was still sceptical, but right now he was desperate for a solution. In the past, Ray had been the man with the plan. If he thought it would work, it probably would. "Alright," he said slowly. "We'll take him to 7."

Kobra shot his older brother a dirty look, but fell silent. He was out-voted 2:1. "Fine," he snarled. "Party, help me get him into the back."

The red-head stood, feeling his joints pop from sitting in the dirt for so long. It had been nearly an hour since they had almost killed Frank, and he was dead-tired. However, there was no time to rest. The prospect of getting his best friend back filled Poison with dangerous excitement, making his heart beat furiously against his ribs. If he had to drive all night to get to 7, he would.

Party approached Frank with caution, not wanting to agitate him further. The smaller man stopped struggling and glared at him suspiciously. "If you think you're picking me up," Frank growled. "I'll snap your neck."

Party was shocked and hurt by the threat, but he bent down and lifted Frank over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"The hell!" Frank screamed. "Put me down! Put me down before I shoot your ass to the fucking moon, you-"

"Nice to see his attitude hasn't been affected," Kobra commented dryly. Party sighed and placed Frank gently inside the vehicle, patting his head as he left to get into the front seat. Jet sniggered and climbed in beside Frank, keeping him sandwiched between himself and Kobra Kid.

As the engine roared into life, Party caught Frank's blank gaze in the mirror. It was dark inside the car, but the whites of Frank's eyes were bright in the moonlight. For a second, Party thought he saw a flicker of recognition in the green depths. Then, like a bolt of lightning, the flicker was gone and replaced by a disturbing glaze.

Party didn't dare look back for the rest of the trip.

AN: Sucky chapter, I know. Might redo it later. Worry not, mes amis. I promise that the plot will indeed be pushed along in the next instalment. Until then, adieu. - Noise