Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Sleep Is For The Dead
3 reviewsIt's a year and a half after the death of both Jet Star and Kobra Kid, Party Poison and Fun Ghoul relying on each other to keep themselves sane. After a recent happening, Ghoul had been having an u...
3Moving
Fun Ghoul awoke with a start. Choking back sobs, the Killjoy shook, and tried to level his racing heart under the covers. A cold sweat soaked through his clothes from the humidity and his nightmare. He and Party Poison were sharing a bed that night, (like most couples do), and was currently facing the other direction. Curled up, he slept soundly, and breathing out little snores ever so often.
Fun had been having these terrors for a while now after he was abducted by Better Living about a month, maybe two months ago. The memories were Hell, and Party, through choking guilt, did everything he could and more to comfort him.
Gerard was an amazing love and friend to have, because of his powerful caring nature. And Ghoul was beyond grateful for him, especially in the bleak times they were facing. But he couldn't save his psyche. Memories, nightmares, he had always been a light sleeper, and these events didn't help.
And now he was shaking, alone with his thoughts, and it was driving him up the wall. Of course he wanted to wake Poison up. Hold him, and kiss until he lost consciousness again, but they rarely got a goodnight sleep anyways. Plus, he didn't want to disrupt that on those unheard of occasions.
His eyes red and wet, Ghoul struggled to level his breathing, before he gave up, and sat up in the poor excuse for a bed. 'No,' he decided. Poison didn't need to be woken up just because he couldn't handle a stupid nightmare. He could manage by himself, without Party thinking of him as weak; Fun couldn't bear the thought of him even leaving.
The beat of his heart finally returning to his chest, the Killjoy sighed into his hands, and stood. He always needed to remember that Party was a huge light sleeper; everyone was these days. They both always slept in their clothes, mostly because those were the only ones they owned, and shed the jackets at night. But the threat of Draculoids and Scarecrows had to make for a quick escape.
Ghoul thought about perhaps waking Kobra for a little pity, but dismissed it. His two best friends were ghosted not even a year and a half ago, and it still made him dizzy with grief. Poison had blamed himself and was quiet after three months. That was, before Fun snapped him out of it. The thought was reduced to a heavy ache in his jaw, and a haze in his mind. Rubbing his eyes, Ghoul padded over the cold tiles out the doorway to not disturb his sleeping friend.
The place they had been crashing in couldn't be bigger than a gas station, a small, broken down house just outside of Zone 4. It wasn't much, but it was a place to stay for the night in the ongoing battle with the corporation that stole your soul.
Fun Ghoul blindly made his way into the broken down kitchen, the whole place cracked and failing in most places. Drawers were missing, and dust blanketed the floor. Almost every piece of glass, including mirrors, were broken or on their way there. It only left the entire homestead a small, graffitied mess. But it was home, at least for now.
Ghoul groped for the ever dwindling pack of cigarettes sat upon his vest on the dusty counter with Party's leathers. Cigarettes didn't come cheap in the Zones, but neither did coffee, so him and Poison compensated. They made sure to save each one they found or sometimes bought. Sometimes, like these, they were just necessary.
The wooden door was all but coming apart on its hinges, without a doorknob, and most of the wood was missing.
Picking a lighter from his vest on the counter, Ghoul stepped out into the harsh desert night. It sent a chill up Frank's spine at the eerie silence. But he ignored it, and sat on the makeshift porch, the sky as starless as ever.
Ghoul lit the Cancer stick, and breathed in the smoke, relishing how it entered his lungs, and blew into the humid night air. There wasn't much of a chance he'd get another one anytime soon, so he'd have to relish this one while it lasted.
Nothing moved. No sounds, it was dead quiet. No bustling of people out to a party, or even the sounds of a car speeding along the highway. The wars took everything away, so the only place where you'd hear those anymore were the illegal bars that were set up around Zone 2 and 3. Everything further than that were insane, flashy type bars that resembled the places shitty indie bands used to play. The ones Fun didn't go to anymore. Those were ran by Killjoys and even Zone Runners.
Fun often found himself reminiscing about the past late at night. When nothing mattered but the next show and who'd have to share with a smelly Bob on hotel nights. Those were the days; better days.
Party Poison's eyes blinked open from a dream he was having, which he (thankfully) couldn't remember. Sighing to himself in the pitch black, the Killjoy rolled over after realizing that Fun must've turned over in his sleep. He groped for his boyfriend's warm body until he realized, panicked, that he wasn't there.
Immediately more awake, Poison's eyes snapped open to find half made sheets in the dark where Fun should've been. Party felt panic rise in his throat, and a moment later had a twisted, sick feeling in his stomach.
He was gone.
Where was he? Anything could happened out there. He could be hurt, taken, dying, dead, the possibilities went on forever. After losing both Mikey and Ray, he couldn't bear the thought of being alone. Fun was the lone reason he even put forth effort anymore besides the wistful hope of rebellion, so there was no way he'd make it alone.
Sitting up straight in the bed, Party grabbed the handle of his yellow gun on the broken bedside table, and got to his feet. Could he have just up and left? No, Ghoul, Frankie wouldn't leave him, would he?
'Oh God,' Poison thought. 'Please don't be gone. Please.' No thoughts could grant him comfort. Party snuck through the doorway, only in his t-shirt and jeans for sleeping.
It was dark and quiet; like the world was at a calm peace. Except it wasn't and Fun Ghoul was missing. Draculoids wouldn't have gave a damn about making a noise and stormed in, so it wasn't that. So where the fuck was he?
Choking back a cry, Poison asked for his boyfriend's name in the darkness. There was no reply and the redhead cursed to himself. But he continued to walk forward into the main room that connected into the kitchen and the bathroom.
No Ghoul.
"Fun Ghoul?" Party called out, louder this time, coming out as more of a worried question than anything. Still nothing, and the Killjoy gripped the gun in his hand tighter, aware now that his hands were clammy. Yet he was beyond worried and scared out of his wits right then to care. So he did the only thing he could in his powerless situation, and yelled for him. "Fun Ghoul!"
Meanwhile, Fun had smoked through the last of that cigarette down to the bud. Now he sat, breathing the lyrics to guilttripping into the inky blackness, and yearning for morning. All the sudden, his Killjoy name was being called from inside the small shack. It was a desperate voice he recognized to be Poison's. Startled, Fun jumped to his feet and stepped inside through the broken down door, fearing he would be pissed for leaving him.
At the sight of a figure at the doorway, Poison raised his gun, before a voice called out his name that he recognized as Ghoul's. The redhead could've cried with relief. Poison dropped his Zap and was halfway towards the doorway before he was met with Fun's arms around him. "Frank! Frankie.." Party mumbled frantically into his boyfriend's neck, the adrenaline still coursing through him.
Ghoul was caught off guard by Party's embrace and held him close, ashamed to have worried him. Especially after the month before.
"Poison. Gee, hey, it's alright. It's okay, I'm still here. I didn't go anywhere, sugar," Frank consoled, scared he might've frightened him. They both knew anything could happen out in the Zones; no wonder Poison was worried.
"Frankie, I didn't- I thought you'd, fuck," Gerard rambled. He was beyond embarrassed when his lover had only just been outside. It wasn't even worth fussing over. He was such an idiot for thinking so irrationally. "I know, I didn't. It's okay now. It's just us, GeeBear. 'Sorry I worried you," Ghoul apologized. Fun knew he hated that nickname, but that only made him more endearing. Gerard sniffled and sighed into Fun's neck amidst their close embrace.
"You didn't mean to. I-It's okay, Frankie," Gerard cooed, meeting his boyfriend's eyes. Leaning in to kiss him on the lips, he imagined what could've happened if Ghoul really was gone. Or if he was hurt- Fun kissed back, bringing his arms up to hold Party's head in his hands. Both were too many miles away to care.
For a few minutes that ensued, just enjoying each other before Frank hesitantly broke it, holding him again. Party, out of breath, kissed his cheek. "Did you have another nightmare?" Poison asked. The truth was, he'd been having these terrors for a while now. But he had never left like this before. Usually, he just shook and sobbed until Gerard was stirred from sleep.
Fun blushed and nodded, tired and embarrassed for the time of night to stir up this commotion. Party sighed, exasperated. He had no idea where Ghoul was getting this notion that he didn't care, or didn't matter. When Frank hurt, he hurt.
"Frank, you know you can wake me up, okay? I promise I won't be mad or anything, just tell me if you get those kinds of dreams. They're scarier when you're alone." Ghoul looked up at him. "I know, but you were sleeping, and I didn't want to-" Poison dismissed Fun's theory with a loving kiss. "No. If you're having a bad night, wake me up. I love you, and I don't want you feelin' like you're alone in this, okay?" Gerard questioned, looking into his eyes for an answer.
Reassured, Frank met his boyfriend's eyes a minute later, in love. "Okay, I will. 'Promise, and I love you too," the Killjoy ensured. Party smiled with relief, kissing one last time before returning to the bedroom, Gerard grabbing his gun on the way.
Frank sighed at the domestic feel of it all before climbing into bed, tugging his lover along with him. They met in a snuggled embrace, but Frank had to squirm to get the covers. He pulled the thin sheets over themselves despite the uncomfortable heat of night. A few minutes later, when they were just on the edge of unconsciousness, Gerard kissed Frank's cheek. "Always Love you, Frankie." Frank smiled. "I Love you, too."
Fun had been having these terrors for a while now after he was abducted by Better Living about a month, maybe two months ago. The memories were Hell, and Party, through choking guilt, did everything he could and more to comfort him.
Gerard was an amazing love and friend to have, because of his powerful caring nature. And Ghoul was beyond grateful for him, especially in the bleak times they were facing. But he couldn't save his psyche. Memories, nightmares, he had always been a light sleeper, and these events didn't help.
And now he was shaking, alone with his thoughts, and it was driving him up the wall. Of course he wanted to wake Poison up. Hold him, and kiss until he lost consciousness again, but they rarely got a goodnight sleep anyways. Plus, he didn't want to disrupt that on those unheard of occasions.
His eyes red and wet, Ghoul struggled to level his breathing, before he gave up, and sat up in the poor excuse for a bed. 'No,' he decided. Poison didn't need to be woken up just because he couldn't handle a stupid nightmare. He could manage by himself, without Party thinking of him as weak; Fun couldn't bear the thought of him even leaving.
The beat of his heart finally returning to his chest, the Killjoy sighed into his hands, and stood. He always needed to remember that Party was a huge light sleeper; everyone was these days. They both always slept in their clothes, mostly because those were the only ones they owned, and shed the jackets at night. But the threat of Draculoids and Scarecrows had to make for a quick escape.
Ghoul thought about perhaps waking Kobra for a little pity, but dismissed it. His two best friends were ghosted not even a year and a half ago, and it still made him dizzy with grief. Poison had blamed himself and was quiet after three months. That was, before Fun snapped him out of it. The thought was reduced to a heavy ache in his jaw, and a haze in his mind. Rubbing his eyes, Ghoul padded over the cold tiles out the doorway to not disturb his sleeping friend.
The place they had been crashing in couldn't be bigger than a gas station, a small, broken down house just outside of Zone 4. It wasn't much, but it was a place to stay for the night in the ongoing battle with the corporation that stole your soul.
Fun Ghoul blindly made his way into the broken down kitchen, the whole place cracked and failing in most places. Drawers were missing, and dust blanketed the floor. Almost every piece of glass, including mirrors, were broken or on their way there. It only left the entire homestead a small, graffitied mess. But it was home, at least for now.
Ghoul groped for the ever dwindling pack of cigarettes sat upon his vest on the dusty counter with Party's leathers. Cigarettes didn't come cheap in the Zones, but neither did coffee, so him and Poison compensated. They made sure to save each one they found or sometimes bought. Sometimes, like these, they were just necessary.
The wooden door was all but coming apart on its hinges, without a doorknob, and most of the wood was missing.
Picking a lighter from his vest on the counter, Ghoul stepped out into the harsh desert night. It sent a chill up Frank's spine at the eerie silence. But he ignored it, and sat on the makeshift porch, the sky as starless as ever.
Ghoul lit the Cancer stick, and breathed in the smoke, relishing how it entered his lungs, and blew into the humid night air. There wasn't much of a chance he'd get another one anytime soon, so he'd have to relish this one while it lasted.
Nothing moved. No sounds, it was dead quiet. No bustling of people out to a party, or even the sounds of a car speeding along the highway. The wars took everything away, so the only place where you'd hear those anymore were the illegal bars that were set up around Zone 2 and 3. Everything further than that were insane, flashy type bars that resembled the places shitty indie bands used to play. The ones Fun didn't go to anymore. Those were ran by Killjoys and even Zone Runners.
Fun often found himself reminiscing about the past late at night. When nothing mattered but the next show and who'd have to share with a smelly Bob on hotel nights. Those were the days; better days.
Party Poison's eyes blinked open from a dream he was having, which he (thankfully) couldn't remember. Sighing to himself in the pitch black, the Killjoy rolled over after realizing that Fun must've turned over in his sleep. He groped for his boyfriend's warm body until he realized, panicked, that he wasn't there.
Immediately more awake, Poison's eyes snapped open to find half made sheets in the dark where Fun should've been. Party felt panic rise in his throat, and a moment later had a twisted, sick feeling in his stomach.
He was gone.
Where was he? Anything could happened out there. He could be hurt, taken, dying, dead, the possibilities went on forever. After losing both Mikey and Ray, he couldn't bear the thought of being alone. Fun was the lone reason he even put forth effort anymore besides the wistful hope of rebellion, so there was no way he'd make it alone.
Sitting up straight in the bed, Party grabbed the handle of his yellow gun on the broken bedside table, and got to his feet. Could he have just up and left? No, Ghoul, Frankie wouldn't leave him, would he?
'Oh God,' Poison thought. 'Please don't be gone. Please.' No thoughts could grant him comfort. Party snuck through the doorway, only in his t-shirt and jeans for sleeping.
It was dark and quiet; like the world was at a calm peace. Except it wasn't and Fun Ghoul was missing. Draculoids wouldn't have gave a damn about making a noise and stormed in, so it wasn't that. So where the fuck was he?
Choking back a cry, Poison asked for his boyfriend's name in the darkness. There was no reply and the redhead cursed to himself. But he continued to walk forward into the main room that connected into the kitchen and the bathroom.
No Ghoul.
"Fun Ghoul?" Party called out, louder this time, coming out as more of a worried question than anything. Still nothing, and the Killjoy gripped the gun in his hand tighter, aware now that his hands were clammy. Yet he was beyond worried and scared out of his wits right then to care. So he did the only thing he could in his powerless situation, and yelled for him. "Fun Ghoul!"
Meanwhile, Fun had smoked through the last of that cigarette down to the bud. Now he sat, breathing the lyrics to guilttripping into the inky blackness, and yearning for morning. All the sudden, his Killjoy name was being called from inside the small shack. It was a desperate voice he recognized to be Poison's. Startled, Fun jumped to his feet and stepped inside through the broken down door, fearing he would be pissed for leaving him.
At the sight of a figure at the doorway, Poison raised his gun, before a voice called out his name that he recognized as Ghoul's. The redhead could've cried with relief. Poison dropped his Zap and was halfway towards the doorway before he was met with Fun's arms around him. "Frank! Frankie.." Party mumbled frantically into his boyfriend's neck, the adrenaline still coursing through him.
Ghoul was caught off guard by Party's embrace and held him close, ashamed to have worried him. Especially after the month before.
"Poison. Gee, hey, it's alright. It's okay, I'm still here. I didn't go anywhere, sugar," Frank consoled, scared he might've frightened him. They both knew anything could happen out in the Zones; no wonder Poison was worried.
"Frankie, I didn't- I thought you'd, fuck," Gerard rambled. He was beyond embarrassed when his lover had only just been outside. It wasn't even worth fussing over. He was such an idiot for thinking so irrationally. "I know, I didn't. It's okay now. It's just us, GeeBear. 'Sorry I worried you," Ghoul apologized. Fun knew he hated that nickname, but that only made him more endearing. Gerard sniffled and sighed into Fun's neck amidst their close embrace.
"You didn't mean to. I-It's okay, Frankie," Gerard cooed, meeting his boyfriend's eyes. Leaning in to kiss him on the lips, he imagined what could've happened if Ghoul really was gone. Or if he was hurt- Fun kissed back, bringing his arms up to hold Party's head in his hands. Both were too many miles away to care.
For a few minutes that ensued, just enjoying each other before Frank hesitantly broke it, holding him again. Party, out of breath, kissed his cheek. "Did you have another nightmare?" Poison asked. The truth was, he'd been having these terrors for a while now. But he had never left like this before. Usually, he just shook and sobbed until Gerard was stirred from sleep.
Fun blushed and nodded, tired and embarrassed for the time of night to stir up this commotion. Party sighed, exasperated. He had no idea where Ghoul was getting this notion that he didn't care, or didn't matter. When Frank hurt, he hurt.
"Frank, you know you can wake me up, okay? I promise I won't be mad or anything, just tell me if you get those kinds of dreams. They're scarier when you're alone." Ghoul looked up at him. "I know, but you were sleeping, and I didn't want to-" Poison dismissed Fun's theory with a loving kiss. "No. If you're having a bad night, wake me up. I love you, and I don't want you feelin' like you're alone in this, okay?" Gerard questioned, looking into his eyes for an answer.
Reassured, Frank met his boyfriend's eyes a minute later, in love. "Okay, I will. 'Promise, and I love you too," the Killjoy ensured. Party smiled with relief, kissing one last time before returning to the bedroom, Gerard grabbing his gun on the way.
Frank sighed at the domestic feel of it all before climbing into bed, tugging his lover along with him. They met in a snuggled embrace, but Frank had to squirm to get the covers. He pulled the thin sheets over themselves despite the uncomfortable heat of night. A few minutes later, when they were just on the edge of unconsciousness, Gerard kissed Frank's cheek. "Always Love you, Frankie." Frank smiled. "I Love you, too."
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