FicWad

Hi all, this is my first story here and I'm a bit nervous! I normally post on Livejournal or fanfiction.net, but thought I'd try Ficwad too :) This is my new Killjoys fic, and features a special guest character from the Green Day Universe :) This version of St Jimmy belongs to my friend, Amy but I liked him so much, I thought I'd borrow him!
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[*Anyway, enjoy! :)
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Son of a Gun

Chapter One

'I don't fucking need them any more.'

That was the one thought echoing around Fun Ghoul's head in that moment as he drove on, through the desert, picking up speed as his frustrations also gained momentum. He glanced into the rear view mirror of the Trans Am, and saw that he was completely alone. No one was coming after him. No one was with him. And he was glad of it. He wanted time to himself, the chance to figure out exactly where he stood, and what he wanted to do next. He needed to work out what the future held for him. Did he even still consider himself a member of the rebel team, the Killjoys? His esteemed leader had made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear. Fun Ghoul was a hindrance, an annoyance for Party Poison, and the youngest member of the group was doing the older man a favour by disappearing.

Even if stealing Poison's car had perhaps taken things a little too far.

There was no denying it, Ghoul did feel a tiny amount of doubt, not to mention guilt, somewhere in his gut. He had snatched the keys from Poison after punching him to the ground, and had then left him there, bleeding in the sand. He hadn't even said anything to Kobra Kid or Jet Star, despite their calling for him. He had been too angry, concentrating on simply marching up to their car, Poison's car, getting inside, and driving off.

Frank's thoughts turned to the recent argument that had resulted in his current situation. His stomach lurched as he recalled how he had gone over his leader's head, leading himself and Kobra Kid into a skirmish with a band of Draculoids. He had been so sure the two of them could deal with the problem effectively without even involving Poison or Jet. Kid had voiced his concerns, but Ghoul hadn't bothered to even listen to him. It had turned out that he had completely underestimated the Dracs' numbers as well as their abilities and the two men had soon found themselves fighting for their lives. Kid had taken a nasty wound to his chest and more Draculoids were rushing to join their friends. Both Kid and Ghoul had believed their luck had run out, but then Poison, Jet, Snow Pony and a rescue party of a dozen rebels had raced onto the scene, cutting the Dracs down and effectively saving their comrades lives. They had returned to their base then, everybody caring for Kobra, and happy to leave Ghoul to his own devices and feelings of guilt and stupidity, or they were, until he had finally been alone with Poison that night, and thought it would have been a good idea to apologise to the other man for what had happened.

That had not been one of his better ideas.

Ghoul braked suddenly, bringing the car to an abrupt halt, and turned off the engine. He blinked furiously, and then rubbed at his eyes, swearing under his breath. He was desperately trying to keep his emotions in check, knowing there was no point in falling apart now. His thoughts again turned to Poison as he wondered where he was now, and what he was doing.

Was Poison even okay?

Ghoul felt sick as he went over their highly charged confrontation in his head, for what must have been the millionth time:

'What the fuck were you even thinking? What were you trying to prove?'

Poison threw him bodily to the ground once again, fury etched all over his face, and Ghoul could only lay at his feet, writhing in pain. He looked up at the other man and saw that Poison looked ready to kill and Ghoul understood why. He had put Kobra Kid's life at risk for nothing, and, for Party Poison, nothing was more terrifying than the thought of losing his brother. Nothing.

'Answer me, Ghoul. Tell me what went through your fucking stupid little head this time. And why the hell did you involve Kid?' He aimed a kick at Ghoul's midriff. 'Tell me!'

'I thought we could take them'. Ghoul muttered. 'I was wrong and I'm fucking sorry, okay?'

'Sorry?' Exploded Poison. 'You're sorry? I told you to wait, I told you there was too many-'

'And I told you,' Ghoul spat back; 'I'm fucking sorry. What do you want from me, Poison? Blood?'

Poison's face reddened. 'What I want, Ghoul, is for you to start taking some fucking responsibility. We are fighting to stay alive here, or haven't you noticed?'

Ghoul balled his hands into fists. 'Don't you talk to me like a child, Poison.'

'Why not? All you ever fucking do is act like one!'

Ghoul turned his back on Poison, ready to walk away with some of his pride still in place, before things got seriously out of hand. But Poison had other ideas.

'Don't you fucking turn away from me, you little shit! He stormed after his team mate, grabbing Ghoul by the scruff of his neck and trying to force him back. 'We're not done here, Frank!”

That was the last straw for Ghoul. He was stunned and furious in equal measure. No one had used his real name for so long and when he finally did hear it again, to hear it spoken with such rage and contempt by a man he had loved for so long, sent Ghoul into a fearsome fury. With a shout of anger, he gripped Poison by his beloved jacket and threw the man away from him. Poison had not seen the counter attack coming so lay still exactly where he had landed, somewhat stunned. Ghoul had been upon him at once, forcing Poison on to his back and pinning him beneath him. He had then proceeded to beat Party's face continuously, screaming obscenities in his leader's face.

A tiny whimper of 'Fr...ank...' brought his raging attack to an end. He paused, his fist in mid air, staring down at the battered face below him, his breathing laboured.

Poison gazed up at him, blood pouring down his face, mixing with his red dyed hair which was currently stuck to his face by sweat. Ghoul, amazed by what he had done, backed away from his battered leader, panic and shame radiating from him. Poison reached out for Ghoul, mumbling incoherently. Ghoul shook his head hurriedly, he couldn't do this, he needed to get away. He then grabbed for Poison again, searching his pockets for the source of his escape, finally pulling out the keys to Poison's much loved Trans Am. The key grasped in his right hand, Ghoul then stepped away once more, his eyes locked again on Poison.

His leader coughed, spitting the blood out of his mouth, and licking it away from his lips. He tried to pull himself up to his knees, but was still dazed due to Ghoul's beating. He gave in, allowing himself to slump back to the ground, and instead tried in vain to convince Ghoul not to run.

'Fr...ank,” he whimpered. 'Do...n't g...o'.

Ghoul shivered. 'Sorry, Gee;' he muttered. 'Need to clear my head. And that means being away from you.'

And then he turned tail and hurried away, ignoring Gerard's last desperate cry of; 'No!' He broke into a run, flying past Jet and Kobra, not even reacting when they called out after him. He heard them start to give chase, but then must have become aware that all was not well with their wonderful leader, as by the time he reached the Trans Am, and looked round, there was no sign of anyone following him. Naturally. He unlocked the car door, pulled it open angrily, and had then jumped into the drivers seat, slamming the door behind him so harshly that the glass in the wing mirror smashed into smithereens. Ghoul, snarling under his breath, turned the key, and the engine roared into life. He then swung the car around, put his foot down, and roared away, leaving all of his problems, and his pain away.

Leaving Gerard behind.

Frank's eyes snapped open as the flashback he was reliving in his head came to an end. He let out a low moan, and buried his head into his hands. His feelings of anger were subsiding, and being replaced with regret and concern. Where was Poison? Was he safe, considering the state Ghoul had left him in. He's actually stolen the Trans AM, basically stranding the other Killjoys at the base. If the Draculuids had known, if they had attacked the building in large numbers, the only people he cared about in the world would probably be lost to him. And if they weren't? If they had got word to Death Defying and had managed to get away, then what were they thinking now? What were they doing? Were they looking for him? Did Gerard even care?

Someone akin to an epiphany suddenly hit Ghoul like a bulldozer, What the fuck was he doing? He had abandoned his best friends! He'd left the man he adored broken and bleeding in the sand! He was sitting in that man's car, feeling sorry for himself, behaving like a small child, which was exactly why Poison had been so annoyed with him in the first place.

Ghoul made up his mind. Whether they wanted him or not, even if they turned on him and shunned him, he would go back. He's go back to where he belonged. At the side of his fellow Killjoys.

He started the car once more, and did an expert three point turn, until the car was facing the opposite direction, and then he was off again, speeding along. All he could hope was that if they had moved on, that they had left him some kind of sign, enabling him to follow.

Ghoul made his way across the sand quickly, driving as quickly as he could. He glanced down at his petrol gauge, relieved to see that he still had three quarters of a tank. At least Poison had remembered to fill his beloved car up before leaving the gas station that morning.

He thundered along. His nerves increased when he realised it was getting dark, and quickly. He needed to get back to the base as quickly as possible. He didn't want to have to stop for a break, not on his own.

Just as he was working out how long it would take him to get back, he saw him.

He wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Or was it a mirage or a trick of the light?

Ghoul gaped. There was a man standing a few feet away from him, waving madly, trying to get his attention.

A man asking for help.

Ghoul stared at the man in shock.

A hitch-hiker in the Zones? What the actual fuck? Ghoul hadn't seen a hitch-hiker for so many years, since before the bombs fell. He couldn't believe it. No Zone Runner was ever alone on foot. It was just far too dangerous, especially considering it was nearly night time. Whoever this man was, he clearly needed help.

Or it was a trap.

Ghoul had a few seconds to consider what he should do. Stop or keep going? Leave the man to his fate, or intervene?

Curiosity got the better of him. Cursing himself, he swerved the car over to one side, stopping the car right by the stranger, who was already leaning down against the door, smirking.

Ghoul wounded down the window, eyeing the man warily.

The stranger grinned widely. “Hi there, thank God you came along! I thought I was fucking finished!”

Ghoul, unsure how to respond, gazed at the face peering down at him through the open window.

The hitch-hiker had a young face, but also seemed to be a few years older than Ghoul. His hair was black and sticking up wildly. He was wearing blue jeans and an old style black leather jacket, though as worn as you would expect for a Zone Runner. Ghoul could see the top of the man's torso and saw the edges of some mean looking tattoos. His eyes were a piercing green, and embolded by perfectly applied eye-liner. Ghoul almost found it hard to look away from them.

“Hey man!” The man offered, a lazy smile on his lips. “Any chance that you could give me a ride?”

Ghoul frowned, continuing to stare at the other man.

“Where are you headed?”

The stranger grinned. “To a town, a few miles North. I was chased by Dracs, split up from my group. I'm pretty sure they would have headed for the rebel refuge. Do you know it?”

Ghoul swallowed. He knew what he needed to say. He couldn't trust this man. He couldn't trust anyone. That was what BL/I had bought to them all. Hatred. Fear. Distrust. But there was something about this man, about the look on his face. He didn't speak again, just simply waited for Ghoul's response.

After much soul searching, Ghoul finally replied; “Sure.”

“Excellent!” The stranger exclaimed happily. He pulled open the back door, and threw his back on the seat, before shutting the door again, pulling open the front door, and sliding in beside Ghoul.

“Nice to meet you,” the man said. He outstretched his hand. “I'm Saint Jimmy.”

“Fun Ghoul,” Ghoul replied, shaking his hand.

Jimmy's mouth dropped open. “Fucking hell, you're a Killjoy, aren't you?”

Ghoul's mouth was dry. “Yeah,” he replied softly.

“Awesome!” Jimmy announced. “You guys are like, fucking heroes, man!”

Ghoul didn't reply. He started the car, and once again set off, heading North, this time with his new passenger.

“Where is this town?” The Killjoy muttered.

Jimmy jerked his head. “North. Only three or four miles. The people are great there. You'll be able to pick up some supplies.” Ghoul nodded, and then pursed his lips together. He certainly didn't want to divulge in friendly chatter with this man. He was still asking himself why the hell he'd picked him up. For some unknown and most unwanted reason, flashes of an old movie, long forgotten, came crashing back to him. He saw a hitch-hiker, holding a body bag, sprouting nonsense to the driver, growing more insane as the scene continued. It took him a few seconds to realise the movie was There's Something About Mary.

He coughed. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to stay alert, stay ready. He knew that. He was a Killjoy, right? And Killjoys helped people. That's all he was doing. This man, this Jimmy, just needed some help.

There was no reason to panic.

“So,” Jimmy suddenly spoke up. “Where are the rest of you guys?”

“Hmm?” Ghoul replied. “What's that?”

“There are usually four of you, right? Thought you were joined at the hip!”

“I got separated from them,” Ghoul muttered, his face stern; “So obviously not.”

“What's the great Party Poison like?” Jimmy questioned. “I've heard so much about him – the feared leader of the Killjoys! What is he really like?”

“He's everything you've heard, and more.” Ghoul retorted.

Jimmy seemed to click then that Ghoul was not completely comfortable. “I'm real grateful for this;” He stated. “You probably saved me life, so thanks.”

“It is dangerous to be out in the Zones when its nearly dark, all on your own, with no transport.” Ghoul agreed. “I'm amazed a Drac scout didn't find you before I did.”

Jimmy shrugged. “I got lucky,” he replied.

Ghoul couldn't help but agree with that. Jimmy had been lucky. Maybe they both had. Two was better than one, after all.

They drove on for some time, Jimmy making small talk and Ghoul replying bluntly, being careful not to give anything away. Finally, Jimmy suggested that they stop for a short break, maybe light a fire and catch themselves something to eat. Ghoul had agreed to this, suddenly feeling not only tired, but also very hungry. One rule of the Zones was, keep your strength up as you never knew what was around the corner. Ghoul had not eaten that day and that was a very bad thing. So, he had accepted Jimmy's suggestion, and had pulled the car over to the side of the road.

It was now pitch black. The darkness always fell quickly out in the Zones, giving the Runners some respite from the deadly radiation. But the night would bring it's own dangers, particularly the constant threat of being discovered by a Drac scouting party.

Jimmy had jumped out of the car and had instantly began to search around for wood. He had directed Ghoul to this area and Ghoul quickly realised why. There was blocks of wood lying around everywhere, waiting to be collected. Ghoul quickly moved to aid the other man.

They picked up as much wood as they could carry, building a small fire. They didn't speak as they went about their task, which Ghoul definitely preferred. He was still a Killjoy after all, and he, just like the others, had learnt very quickly that they only people they could trust were each other.

His heart ached. God, he missed them.

Jimmy quickly brought Ghoul out of his musings. “Look, there.” He grinned widely. “Dinner!”

Fun Ghoul turned to see a rabbit, sitting peacefully a few metres away, apparently unconcerned by the humans that were so close by. The rabbit's nose twitched, and Ghoul's stomach turned. He would never get used to this. Killing was killing, even though it was to stay alive, and whether it was an animal or a man, it still wasn't easy.

Ghoul looked on, somewhat stunned, as Jimmy threw himself at the rabbit, catching it cleanly, and then snapped the poor creature's neck easily, and then strode back over to Ghoul, throwing the carcas down beside the pile of wood. He knelt down then, and pulled out a container from his jacket pocket.

Jimmy looked up then, and smiled, banging his hand down on the sand next to him.

“Take a seat, Killjoy! Don't be shy!”

Ghoul frowned, then sat himself down beside Jimmy, peering at him as he poured lighter fluid over the small pile of firewood he had collected.

“You're good at this;” Ghoul noted. “Well prepared.”

“Have to be.” Jimmy replied curtly. He glanced up. “Thirsty?”

At Ghoul's nod, Jimmy then passed his companion a small cup and eyed him closely as he took a sip. He then smirked as Ghoul gasped as the liquor burned his throat on the way down.

“Strong stuff,” the black haired man told him. “Should've warned ya. Sorry about that, Killjoy.”

Fun Ghoul shrugged, watching Jimmy throwing a match on the pile of wood, setting it alight. He shuffled closer to the enticing flames. “No problem.”

“Thanks for the ride,” Jimmy continued, dragging the remains of the rabbit closer. “Real stroke of luck, you turning up. I would have been fucking done for if you hadn't come along when you did.”

Ghoul closed his eyes. “Don't thank me yet, Saint. You'll probably regret it. I'm a fucking disaster area.”

Jimmy frowned. “You're a Killjoy! You're the best!”

Ghoul actually laughed, despite himself. “I'm not a Killjoy any more. Do you see my gang? It's just me, all alone.”

The other man paused, eyeing him closely. “What happened?”

Ghoul shook his head. “It's a shitty, boring story.”

Jimmy smirked. “Yeah? I got time.”

Ghoul looked over at him. After a seconds hesitation, he replied, against his better judgement; “I fucked everything up, Jimmy. I've lost everything. All because I wanted to be the big man.” He balled his hands into fists. “Party Poison and I had a fight, so I had to leave.”

“People make mistakes, Ghoul.” Jimmy soothed. “I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is. Don't beat yourself up about it.”

Ghoul shook his head, chuckling humourlessly, and then covering his face with his hands, letting out a deep sigh.

“Seriously Jimmy. Why the fuck am I telling you all this?”

Saint Jimmy laughed at that. “Who knows? I'm a fucking good listener. And maybe that’s just what you need right now.”

Ghoul couldn't help but nod. “Maybe.”

Jimmy put his head on one side, and then spoke up again. “So, in your argument, Poison was in the wrong?”

Ghoul considered the question, sipping his drink distractedly. “Things were said, by both of us. Poison was furious as I went against his orders, thinking I knew better, putting lives in danger in the process, all because of my bad judgement, and I was angry at him for treating me like shit.” Ghoul bowed his head. “I was a fucking idiot, Jimmy. I could have gotten us killed. Not just me, but Kid too. Poison was furious with me, and he let me know it. I couldn't take it, and I lost my head.”

Jimmy whistled. “Oh dear. Dissent in the ranks.” He laid down, grunting in satisfaction. “Gotta tell ya, sounds to me like someone was a little worried that you were going after his leadership status...”

“No.” Ghoul replied, a little too quickly. “It wasn't like that. He is the leader and always has been. We had a fight, that's all.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “But you ran away from him! Sounds pretty serious to me...”

“I was upset. I needed some time to think.”

“Did the argument get violent?”

“Please-”

Jimmy wouldn't let up. “Did you hit him?”

“YES!” Ghoul shouted, his fury boiling over. “Yes I fucking did! I beat the shit out of him! Happy now?”

Jimmy said nothing, merely watching Ghoul closely. The other man cringed inwardly, furious at himself for losing control, and then turned away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Fun Ghoul,” Jimmy began, softly. “It'll be okay-”

“No,” Ghoul muttered. “It won't.”

“You-”

Ghoul was done. He just couldn't do this any more. “Please, lets change the subject.”

“But what if-”

“Jesus!” Ghoul exclaimed, raising his voice in frustration. “Could we please leave it alone now? I don't think I want to talk about this with you any more!”

Jimmy actually smirked, and then shrugged, finally falling silent. Ghoul was cringing. He knew he had said far too much. Not only that, he could also see Poison's face in his minds eye, bloodied and beaten. Staring at him with fear and despair.

He closed his eyes.

Neither men spoke for a few minutes, Ghoul was trying to fathom silently how and why he had divulged so much to a complete stranger, while also trying to shut out the upsetting images in his mind. Jimmy sat up, sighing, and reached out to throw more wood onto the fire.

Finally, Ghoul cleared his throat.

“Okay then,” he said. “Your turn.”

Jimmy paused, and then shot Ghoul a sideways glance. “What do you mean, my turn?”

Ghoul caught the annoyance in his tone, and not for the first time since he'd met this enigmatic man, something truly discomforting stirred within him. “Well, to be fair, you know plenty about me now, and I don't know a thing about you.”

“You know my name, don't ya? T hats a 'thing'.” He gestured, somewhat agitatedly. “And I don't know yours, so stop your complainin'.”

The other man smiled nervously, but Jimmy didn't return it. After another uncomfortable wait, Ghoul tried again. “Come on, who am I gonna tell, out here in the Zones, just you and me? You can trust me, man-”

“I'm sure I can, Fun Ghoul.” Jimmy was stony-faced. “But I've got nothin' to say because there's nothin' to tell. What you see is what you get with me.”

Ghoul frowned. “But you must have a story. Everyone does.”

“Not me.”

“Why were you hitchin' a ride?”

“I told you. I lost my friends. I'm trying to get back to them.”

“Who are you, Jimmy?”

“Fuck sake!” Jimmy poked at the fire with his stick, his face unreadable. “I'm not important, Ghoul.” His tone was clipped. “Drop it.”

“Where are you from?” Ghoul pressed. “Why were you wandering the Zones alone, with no protection?”

Jimmy turned then and fixed him with an annoyed glare. “You need to listen to me,” he said, softly. “I don't matter. There is nothin' to tell. I'm alone, there's just me and I'm doing all I can just to keep on living. That's all there is. Nothing else, no more, nada.” He stabbed at the fire again. “Got it?”

Ghoul was no way near satisfied, but already, Jimmy had moved on.

“You are so much more interesting than me, doll. You and the Killjoys, you're famous, aren't you? You've been running together for long while??”

Fun Ghoul let out a defeated sigh, stared back in the flames, and nodded.

“How long?”

Ghoul twitched. He now so badly wanted to tell the arrogant man to go fuck himself. Why should he open up again if Jimmy didn't want to return the favour? But, again, there it was. That incomprehensible urge to tell Jimmy exactly what he wanted to know. Ghoul decided that if he kept his answers short and sweet, maybe Jimmy would be satisfied enough to stop probing, and just leave it alone?

He took a deep breath before replying.

“Oh, ages. Since before the bombs even fell.”

“And how did you meet Party Poison?”

“I don't think we should be talking about this,” Ghoul whispered. “It's getting late. Let's-”

“Kobra Kid doesn't get along with his brother, so they say.” Jimmy snarled, his face neutral.

Ghoul blinked. “Who says?”

“People.”

“Yeah? Well, people are wrong. They fight, like any brothers do, but they'd die for each other-”

Jimmy slammed his fist down beside him. “So, they are brothers, just like the rumours said. Interesting.”

Ghoul's face fell. God, that was stupid, he'd walked right into it. He needed to shut up, before he gave up any more of the Killjoys secrets. He didn't trust this man at all, he'd only just met him, but there was something about him, something Ghoul couldn't put his finger on. Who the hell was he? What did he want? And just why couldn't he hide anything from him?

Jimmy was watching him closely. Ghoul felt all the more uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“And you and Party Poison?”

“What about us?”

Another smirk.

“Are you two fucking?”

Ghoul spat his water all over the sand, much to Jimmy's delight.

“No, I, Poison-” Ghoul spluttered, wiping at his mouth, his face as red as a beetroot. “It's not like that! We... I mean, I-”

Jimmy, with an amused grin, cut him off before he could dig a deeper hole for himself.

“Why do you want him so badly anyway? What's so incredible about him?”

Ghoul had no answer. He looked down at the ground instead.

“Party Poison might never kiss you.” Jimmy told him, his eyes glinting. “Why not give me a try instead?”

Before Ghoul could even digest exactly what Jimmy had just implied, he was taken aback completely when the other man suddenly swooped in, finding his lips, and kissing him hungrily. Ghoul, despite his misgivings, found himself responding, and he sensed Jimmy's glee. He let out a low moan of displeasure, and knew he had to finish this, before it went any further.

Ghoul, with a sigh, stopped the embrace first, turning his face away, and Saint frowned, eyeing him impatiently. He took hold of Ghoul's jaw, and made him face him once again.

“Jimmy,” Ghoul whispered, trembling. “I-”

“What's your name?” Jimmy breathed, right into his ear, making Ghoul cringe. “Your real name?”

“I can't-”

Jimmy was sucking on his neck. “Tell me.”

Ghoul had no idea why he did it, but the words were falling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Frank. My name's Frank. But please, just stop-”

The other man shushed him, actually pressing a finger to his lips, then going in for the kill once again, this time sneaking an arm around Ghoul's waist and pulling him closer. Jimmy was firm but tender, the kiss quickly becoming more passionate, and the Killjoy actually found himself relaxing, allowing the other man's hands to move down his body, getting lower and lower...

Ghoul's eyes suddenly shot open, and he pulled away, holding his hands up, fending Jimmy off. Jimmy's grin widened, and he reached out for Ghoul again, holding him tightly, his lips once again finding those of the now squirming other man.

Ghoul shoved him, forcing him back. “No,” he snapped, furiously. “I don't want to do this.”

Jimmy tutted, edging closer again. “Frank-”

Ghoul, incensed at Jimmy for not even showing any indication that he'd heard, let alone for using his name, shouted; “Are you deaf, Jimmy? I just told you! No!”

A flash of something unrecognisable shot over the other man's face.

“Just having some fun, Fun Ghoul. Or should that be Dull Ghoul?”

Ghoul bristled. “I just don't want to fool around with you, okay? I'm glad to have some company, and am happy to take you across the Zone, but nothing is going to happen here. Do you get me?”

Jimmy smirked. “You saving yourself for Party Poison, Frankie?”

Ghoul flushed. With a quick shake of his head, he rubbed at invisible dirt on his hands, and the turned back toward the Trans Am. “I think it's time we set off;” he stated. “There will be Drac scouts lurking about. If we get back on the road now, we should reach the town by morning.”

“What about the rabbit?” Jimmy called.

“I'm not hungry any more.”

Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head. “Did I hit a nerve, Frankie?”

Ghoul turned, and fixed Jimmy with an unimpressed glare. “The name is Fun Ghoul,” he barked.

There was a sarcastic nod from the other man. “Of course. Sorry. You want to play games. I can appreciate that.” He got slowly to his feet, his hands digging into his pockets, grinning from ear to ear. “If you want to play, I'm up for that.”

Ghoul suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Not bothering to reply, he turned his back on Jimmy again – which proved to be his fatal mistake.

Just as he had almost reached the car, he was suddenly grabbed from behind in a iron grip. He shouted out in shock, trying to dislodge the hands holding him tightly. He could feel Jimmy pressed up right behind him and he hit out with his elbow, catching the other man in the face with a glancing blow. He heard Jimmy snarl, knew he was in serious trouble, and then gasped as his hair was gripped. Ghoul was helpless as the man positioned behind him threw his head forward violently, slamming him down against the car door. Ghoul whimpered, blood oozing from his nose. He was too dazed to fight as he was manhandled again, and this time sent sprawling to the ground.

He was immediately pinned to the ground, face down.

“What are you doing?” He managed to splutter, but Jimmy didn't respond. Ghoul got his answer anyway, and his blood ran icy cold when he felt a hand on his belt. He struggled weakly as it was unbuckled and pulled free. “I don't want this, Jimmy;” Frank tried to reason with the other man, desperation in his tone. “Please leave me alone.”

“Don't you fret,” Jimmy hissed in his ear. “I'll take good care of you, doll.”

Ghoul's breath caught in his throat as then felt his jeans being unbuttoned and roughly pulled down over his hips. His boxers soon followed, and all he could do was lay there and moan. He knew how he must look to the man above him, and he cringed with shame. Very soon, he could feel the hot, harsh air against his bare skin and he so badly wanted to fight back, to kick out with all he was worth at the bastard holding him, to stop this from happening but he simply couldn't make his limbs obey. The blow to his head had stunned him, and Jimmy had complete control, and they both knew it. It was as if Ghoul was frozen in place. He shivered, and again tried in vain to break away from the other man's bruising grip on him but he was held there firmly. He shook his head desperately. This could not be happening to him. Humiliation hit him like a brick when he realised that, thanks to that crippling head wound, all he could do was lay there and take whatever Jimmy was about to force onto him, and try to stay calm. It would only add to his dire situation if he panicked now.

Jimmy, sensing the other man's acceptance to his fate, grinned hungrily, sucking painfully on the back of Ghoul's neck, and then sinking his teeth in, causing the other man to whimper in pain and embarrassment. "Relax,” Jimmy breathed. “I want you to enjoy this," and he quickly slipped off his own clothes, and began to stroke himself slowly. The sounds were unmistakable, and Fun Ghoul actually stopped breathing.

"Ready?" Jimmy purred, patronising Ghoul, with real malice in his tone. The other man shook his head desperately, closing his eyes and picturing moments from his past, his Killjoy brothers, Gerard. Anything to distract himself from what was about to happen.

Suddenly, Jimmy thrust his hips hard, not bothering with any preparation at all. It had been so long. He didn't want to waste any time.

This was a big, brave Killjoy. He could take it.

Ghoul let out a horrified cry, and Jimmy laughed, revelling in Ghoul's distress.

'He's getting off on this.' Ghoul realised, with horrified realisation. 'He's feeding off of my pain.' In that moment, Ghoul told himself that he would not scream again. He forced his mouth shout, and screwed his eyes up tight, keeping his head pressed against the sand, determined not to make another sound. It was the hardest task of his life though, as he felt like his body was being torn apart, slowly and painfully. With Ghoul's whole being sore and protesting, Jimmy thrust in again, and Ghoul arched his back, bucking up against his tormentor, as he tried not to think about the agony. Ghoul's stomach churned as he heard Jimmy moan low in his throat.

“This is so fucking good;” Jimmy gasped. “You feel incredible, baby boy.”

“Please,” Frank moaned. “Please stop. It hurts.”

Jimmy looked down at him and frowned, as if he was seeing the pure agony he was causing for the first time. With a knowing smile, he changed the direction of his thrusts, hitting that spot in Ghoul and the other man let out a low cry of surprise as suddenly the all consuming pain was mingled with pure, unexpected, fiery pleasure.

“There you go,” Jimmy mouthed against Ghoul's ear. “Isn't that better?”

Ghoul couldn't reply. His eyes shot open as Jimmy hit that pleasure point within him again, and again, and soon he was moaning and whimpering, desperate for the pleasure to continue. He could feel blood pouring down his legs, as well as noting that the pain caused to him by Jimmy's thrust was easing, which meant that Jimmy was using Ghoul's blood as lubrication. Ghoul was sickened, but his body was responding. As the pain was fading now, and although his mind was still telling him that this was sick and wrong, and he didn't want this, his body seemed desperate for Jimmy's attention. Jimmy pulled out, rolled Ghoul over on to his back, and then kissed the other man soothingly on his lips.

Ghoul whimpered. He'd never felt anything like this before.

He needed this. He wanted this.

“You can feel it, can't you?” Jimmy panted in his ear. With a low moan, he thrusted inside once again. Ghoul screamed once more, only this time, not due to the pain, for it had been replaced with something else. Something amazing. “You know you want this. You want me, Killjoy. Just give yourself to me, doll.”

And that was exactly what Frank was doing. There was no fight left in him now. He groaned and grunted, forcing his hips upwards in a shameful motion, desperate to meet Jimmy's thrusts.

In response, Jimmy tightened his hold on Frank's wrists, and growled in his ear. Frank closed his eyes tightly, gasping for breath. He didn't want to see that triumphant smirk on St Jimmy's face as Frank gave him his body and soul. The Killjoy let out a low whimper. This was not how this was supposed to go down. He had wanted it to be Gerard, and he had wanted the man he loved to make love to him. Not for some stranger to fuck him into the sand, in some sordid one night stand.

Frank heard Jimmy's breathing change and he tensed. As the other man was growing closer to orgasm, he had begun to pant. His grunts became louder, although they were now matched by Frank's own moans, and he bent over his captive, pressing his weight down onto the other man, rocking against him, thrusting deeply into him, loving the slick heat of Frank's delicious tight hole gripping his cock.

“Frankie,” he growled; “Your ass is so hot, man, so fucking hot. I'm gonna come soon, doll; how about you?” Frank could only grunt loudly in reply as Jimmy's cock slammed back into him. His elbows seemed to give way as he lay there helplessly, leaning his head forward. He grabbed for Jimmy's shoulders and gripped them as tightly as he could to steady himself. He heard Jimmy hiss, but the other man didn't try to stop him. Instead, Jimmy grabbed at Frank's legs, draping them over his shoulders and then holding him tightly, thrusting into him vigorously. Suddenly he was feeling frantically for Frank's cock, and finding it, he began to pump it in time with his thrusting. Ghoul could only grit his teeth as Jimmy yelled triumphantly into his ear as he shot his load into his body. His ecstatic cries were loud, but Ghoul's own shrieks matched his as his own semen suddenly spurted from his swollen cock. He didn't know why he did it, but in the moment that his pleasure exploded, he had mumbled one word. “Gerard.” Jimmy, his eyes widening, clung to Frank, his arms wrapped tightly around him, embracing him. After a few sweaty seconds, he finally released him and both men lay panting, Jimmy's body lying heavily on Frank's.

At last, Jimmy rose, lifting himself off of Ghoul. The two men stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to say.

All Ghoul could do was stare up at Jimmy, his whole body shuddering, as he lay there gasping. He didn't know what to think, how to feel. He had just been raped, and he had enjoyed it.

Jimmy watched him. “So, Frankie. Who's Gerard?” He panted. “Or can I guess?”

Ghoul's eyes widened, and he let out a low gasp. “What? No! I-”

The other man raised an eyebrow. “It's a bit of a fucking insult, to tell you the truth, doll. When your lover says another man's name just as they shoot their load, something isn't right.” He leaned back, sitting on his heels. “You don't want to upset me, right, Fun Ghoul?”

What was he supposed to say? He mumbled incoherently, and then turned his face away.

Jimmy eyed him for a few seconds, then threw back his head and laughed loudly. “Don't you worry yourself, baby. I'm only playing with you. You were a fucking good lay.” He gazed down, his eyes sparkling. “And besides, Party Poison's real name might just be some very useful information for me, who knows? Maybe some day...” He winked.

Ghoul gaped up at him. “I-” He moaned. “No-”

“Shush, baby,” cooed Jimmy. “Nothin' to worry about.”

He gently stroked Ghoul's hair, smiling affectionately. He then stood up, whistling, redressing himself. He then gestured for Ghoul to do the same. "We should be off," he told him. "I'll drive if you want. If you're a bit, you know, sore…"

Ghoul cringed. "No," he muttered, turning his head to one side, unsuccessfully hiding his shame. "I'm fine."

He carefully pulled up his own pants and boxers, not looking at Jimmy.

Finally, the other man asked him: "You done?"

Ghoul nodded.

Jimmy smiled. "Good."

And then, he struck.

He grabbed hold of Ghoul, dragging him up roughly. He then manhandled to the Trans Am and shoved him against the back door, tying his hands behind his back. Ghoul was in such pain, it was practically impossible for him to fight back. He whimpered as his hands were restrained behind him. Jimmy pulled him away from the car then, and threw open the door.

“Glad you didn't lock it, Frankie.” He hissed. “Thanks!”

Frank then found himself thrown face first on to the back seat. Before he had a chance to even react, Jimmy was on him again, pinning him down. He then punched Frank hard in the head, the first blow stunned him, the second knocking him out completely. Once Jimmy was satisfied that Ghoul was out cold, he moved off of him.

“Thanks Frankie,” he told the unconscious man. “That was a real pleasure.”

He blew the other man a kiss, and then shut the door on him. He grinned cruelly as he ran round the car, threw open the front door, and climbed inside.

Jimmy slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out first a small box of tablets,m quickly followed by a walkie-talkie. He smiled as he stared at the pills.

“Best truth pills money can buy,” he purred, and chuckled as he regarded the prone Frank once more. “Slip 'em a pill, watch them spill.” He moved his hand through his hair. “You gave up a lot more than just your knowledge, Killjoy. And I gotta tell you, you were perfect.”

With a lazy smile, he then activated the Walkie-Talkie.

“This is Agent Saint,” he stated. “Do you read me?”

He pressed the button and waited for a reply. There was only static.

He frowned, then tried again.

“Hello, Control? This is Agent Saint, is anyone there?”

He waited for a few more seconds, and then the typical voice of a drone answered him.

“We read you, Agent. Please report."

Jimmy smirked.

“About time! I want to talk to Exterminator Korse, please. Is he there?”

Another pause, before the voice spoke again.

“Exterminator Korse is unavailable. Please deal with me in his absence.”

Jimmy snorted. “I don't think so. I want to talk to Korse now.”

“That is impossible.”

“Trust me, he'll regret it if he doesn't listen to me. Now go and get him!”

There was silence on the line. Jimmy waited, wondering if the drone had obeyed him. He was just considering hanging up the line and reconsidering the situation, when a very familiar, but very hated, voice appeared over the crackly line.

“This is Korse.”

Jimmy's grin widened. “Exterminator. Good to hear your voice, as always.”

Korse's annoyance was clear from his tone. “This has better be good, Saint.”

Saint Jimmy chuckled. “I want to trade with you.”

“I’m in the middle of a meeting, Jimmy. I am sure this can wait an hour of so, yes?”

“I don't think you'll feel like that soon, Exterminator. Not when you see the treat I have for you.”

There was another pause. “What have you got, Jimmy?”

Jimmy looked over his shoulder at the unconscious Fun Ghoul, knocked out and restrained, on the back seat, and he smiled knowingly.

“Well, Korse, I might have just got you a Killjoy...”

TBC