Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Desert, Zone 4

“Cherri, will you mix for me tonight??” 

The older adult turned from his desk to face the red headed boy who just disrupted him : “ Depends on what I get out of it.” 

“ I don't know… a hell of a party ?”

“ We all know how your parties end, Party Poison” He says, emphasizing his name carefully like it explained everything. “And I’m honestly not in the mood for a face off with dracs tonight.” 

“Aww, come on !! People love our parties. And it only ended up bad two times. It’s not a Poison party without his loyal DJ Cherri Cola.”

“Kobra, please tell your brother to stop.”

The younger brother doesn't even bother looking up from his magazine. “ Please stop, Gee.” 

He gets a smack to the forehead in response. “Ouch ! Fuck you !” 

“ That’s what you get for siding with him ! And we said no more old names now.” 

“ I really don't get why we have to do all these theatrics. Mikey and Gerard were perfectly fine names.” 

“ You can just go to Battery City if you want to be normal so bad.”

Mikey—Kobra Kid didn't have bother answering and just grunted before going back to his magazine. It’s been two years since the world as they knew it has gone to shit, and he still struggled with it sometimes. The newfound radiation in the air had been hard on everyone in the desert, but he seemed to get more migraines than his older brother and their friend. He didn't see the point of all the new fancy names either. “It’s symbolic”, had said his brother, always down to be extra. “Because we rejected the false normalcy they’re selling in Battery City. It’s unity between us freaks in the desert, no matter the gang”. Whatever. Kobra had based his desert name off of his favorite movies and his love for reptiles. He used to have a pet snake before. Oh well. 

As for Gerard, now Party Poison, they had claimed their new name was meant to be “Fun and mysterious, but in a sexy way”. Kobra just thought it was corny. But it fitted, and the bastard wore it well. He always had been the life of the party, and still was despite the situation. He threw parties in emptied out hangars, gas stations or stone-pits. His parties always reunited people in the zones. Cherri Cola was a respected figure in the desert, and so was his friend Dr Death-Defying, radio host of The DesertZ FrequencieZ, a broadcast that kept everyone updated about BL/ind’s antics and their raids in the desert. Having them sure helped with the ambiance, and helped gather more people. 

“... I’ll do it”, Kobra heard Cherri sigh. Fucking Poison always got their way. 

“ Will Jet Star and Merry Mayhem at least attend ?” Kobra whined.

“You best believe the band is gonna play !!! That includes you.”

Kobra groaned once again. “Well if Jet plays…” 

And thus they began the final planning. 

Kobra and Party, helped by Jet and Merry who had joined them, set up the stage and the decorations. Tonight, they were in the best spot they had found yet : an actual former venue. It wasn't as big as some of the hangars they went to, but it felt cozy and almost normal. Like they weren't lost teenagers in a desert hiding from a corporation sponsored dictatorship. Like they were the sixteen and nineteen year olds they dreamed they’d be while watching movies growing up. 

“Are we doing the new song tonight?” Asked Merry while hanging up a paper garland she made. On it, it read “ The Fabulous Killjoys”, their band name. She had been the one to suggest the name, and the band as a whole. Merry was nineteen, like Party and her cousin Jet. She had a kid with some guy the others didn't know. He didn't come to parties and they weren't together anymore, but they were amicable and took turns taking care of their daughter. She was a nice girl with a flamboyant personality. Kobra and Party rocked full heads of fancy hair colors, but she was content with only a streak of electric blue in her otherwise brown curly hair. She usually took the lead in their outings and face offs against draculoids, but left the spotlight of the stage to Party Poison. She drummed very well, but that was it. No singing or songwriting. She just kicked and kicked, almost like she fought. But she was passionate in all she did. 

“Party said yes. Pretty sure they threw the whole party just to debut it.”

You could tell Jet and Merry were related. If their brown curls and facial features weren't an obvious enough hint, they had the same laugh and sparkle in their eyes. While she was petite, he was all height, but both had a similar slim figure. He was the best guitarist ever. Party always said he was their musical soulmate. He was quieter, but reliable and funny. When he spoke, it was always either thoughtful advice or a funny joke. Jet was their watchful eye, their laid back model, and of course their really hot guitarist. Or at least that’s how Kobra saw it, but he was sure Party would agree. 

The four of them made a colorful crew. Four of the many lost teenagers in the Zone who had matched immediately. They set fire to the venues, and made bullets rain on the Draculoids. The Killjoys brought the party with them wherever they went. 

“ I heard Dr D’s got himself a new sidekick.” 

“FUCK !” Party had dropped a box of equipment on his foot. “Cherri you bastard, you startled me !” 

“D said the kid’s lonely. Has been alone since the fires. Make friends with him.” 

“ Yeah, whatever”, replied Party, still holding onto his feet. “Just don't sneak up on me like that again or I’ll smash your mixing table next.” 

Cherri scoffed, used to the banter, and went back to setting up. As he went back and forth to drop off cranes of drinks and snacks, he thought about them. He loved these kids. He loved what they had here. Sure, the whole, vampire-fighting-desert-vigilantes wasn't what he preferred they’d do, but who was he to stop them ? He may have been older but apart from that, he had no claim over them. 

That kind of kinship was the worst. He wasn't their father, not their brother, just an older guy who had taken them under his wings. But he didn't get to parent them or tell the crew what they should or shouldn't do. They could all go on a suicide mission and the best he could do was beg, then eventually watch them go. The Killjoys were free spirits and even their honorary member couldn't stop them if he tried. 

“The radiation’s already killing us slowly, Poison, you don't need that to kill you faster” Cherri turned around to see Merry Mayhem slap a cigarette out of Party Poison’s hands. They flipped her the bird as a response, leaning down to pick the death stick up. But, instead of lighting it, they put it away in their pockets. 

“Yeah, whatever. Let's just get this party started.” 

_____

The party was a hit. There were about a hundred people present. Most of them were more or less familiar faces, but also there also was new blood, which was always enjoyable.The four of them bartended for the first half of the night while Cherri Cola mixed. They took turns sneaking off to the dance floor and going wild. Party Poison loved dancing. He and Mikey were the best in the desert at line dancing; with Merry Mayhem he’d get to turn and twirl in her arms, and Jet Star and him often grinded on the other. They did that with other people too. Party would look away when Jet and his little brother started dancing a little closer to one another, and he knew Kobra would do the same. Who’d like to see their siblings grinding on their friends, or on random strangers ? Not any of them two, that was for sure.

As for now, it was him on the dance floor, alone after Merry went to chat up some girl. He threw his hands up in the air and jumped while crossing his feet before turning. As they completed their rotation, they bumped into someone. 

“Aw, shit man, sorry !” 

“ No it’s on me man I’m sorry! Don't let me kill your vibe. You were killing it.”

Party looked at the boy he crashed into. He seemed to be his age, wearing the same youthful yet tired eyes. He had shoulder length black hair and a sleeveless military vest that seemed a size too big. A scorpio tattoo peeked out of his collar, and his cropped top hinted at another one underneath his navel. The Killjoy spotted his piercings: stretched earlobes, nostril and lip piercing all adorned with silver rings. The other teen seemed to check him out as well. They stared at each other for a bit, hesitant. Poison finally made the first move, stepping closer to put his hand on the other’s shoulder. As he opened his mouth, he was rudely interrupted.

“Bro, it's time for our set “, Kobra sighed as he dragged them away. 

Party Poison waved awkwardly to the other boy with his free hand. He usually never did “awkward”. 

“Kobra, you just ruined the start of something wonderful.” 

“Like hell I did. If you want to get laid, you’ll do it after the show and very far away from me, thank you.” 

Party didn't answer as they stepped up the three stairs leading up to the stage. Taking place in the center, he grabbed the mic and started speaking: 

“ Can anyone get me a fucking drink !!!?” He half screamed, half sung. The crowd erupted in cheers. They raised their glass, fake-giving it to him. But then he saw it. One person making their way across the crowd and actually handing him a glass full of their alcohol-soda mix. 

“Hey, this cutie knows what’s up !” Party exclaimed, downing the glass in one go. “Let’s give it up for the new desert cutie, everyone!” The crowd cheered once again and they leaned to give the glass back to the dark haired cutie, not without blowing him a kiss before going. 

The Killjoys show went great. Party Poison jumped around and screamed as always, Kobra Kid was in the usual cooler-than-everyone stance he took on stage, Jet Star played that guitar like he had invented the instrument, and Merry Mayhem had had at least two bras thrown at her. The usual stuff. Except this time, the lead singer’s eyes wandered to a specific part of the crowd each time. 

If my velocity starts to make you sweat, then just don't let go

Cause the emergency room got no vacancy 

And we just, and we just, and we just, and we just get up and Go ! 

The dark haired boy stared right back at them, smiling. It was almost taunting. Party looked away, going for another run around the stage.

Who they want you to be

Who they wanted to see 

Go kill the party with me, and never go home 

Their bright red hair seemed almost neon against the lights of the venue. The decay and lack of power meant they had limited projectors, but the Killjoys didn't need fancy equipment to prove they were great. All of them glistened in sweat and energy. Poison went back to the cute boy's side of the stage and dropped to his knees, now directly facing him. 

Who they want you to be

Who they wanted to see

Party Poison got as close as the stage allowed and put his hand on his shoulder for the second time tonight. As he gets their faces closer, he keeps singing, his words full of intention.

Just leave the party with me and never go home 

The singer smiled when he saw the target of his not so subtle flirting was now crimson red. They put a foot back up in a motion to stand, but were suddenly stopped by the other man pressing their faces together. 

It was nothing crazy, nothing to make them lose their balance, but it sure was unexpected. A quick peck on the lips, no time for passionate frenching. But Party still felt really hot. He’d kiss people at parties—didn’t everyone? But the sudden initiative of his partner wasn't something he had thought about. He missed a line or two, but quickly got back on his feet to keep on singing. 

I’m unbelievable yeah, i’m undefeatable yeah,

Let’s ruin everything, blast it to the back now

From the other back of the stage, he looked at the one who had just kissed him. He seemed to panic, maybe afraid to have overstepped. Staying in place, Poison pointed at him, and sang with a reassuring look . 

They sell presentable, young and so ingestible 

Sterile and collectible

Safe, and I can't stand it 

The other boy smiled in return. Party Poison looked up to his bandmates and saw his brother raising a brow, dubitative. Party shrugged as a response. This wasn't Kobra’s business. 

This is a letter, my word is the Beretta

The sound of my vendetta against the ones that planned it

The rest of the show went smoothly. More jumping, screaming, mosh pits and theatrics. When the Killjoys all went to salute, everyone cheered one last time. It seemed like they were the only ones in the world. If it could be only like that…show after show, party after party. But the life they had chosen only allowed them to be reckless half the time. The other half consisted of scavenging for supplies and energy, killing draculoids and destroying all traces of BL/ind in the Zones. They wouldn't get to dedicate their life to music, tour across the globe and meet new people. Scratch that last part, they still could meet new people. Party Poison definitely wanted to meet the military vest wearing boy properly. Maybe kiss him some more. Ask his name eventually. 

They exited the stage and went back to the bar. Cherri and his friends had taken over the bartending, but the DJ was now going back to mixing for the rest of the night. 

“Don't bother, kids. Pony and I are taking care of it. Go enjoy yourselves, you earned it”, said Dr Death Defying as he and his friend Show Pony shoved glass, in all of their hands.

“You rule, D”, Kobra downed his glass and took Jet Star by the hand, dragging him to the dance floor. Party turned and saw Merry was already off with the same girl as before the show. The two girls were chatting in a corner, as intimately as a room full of people allowed. 

“D, get me two drinks please, I need to find the sing- oh.” 

Party Poison looked at the newcomer. It was the dark haired cutie from earlier. They stared at each other, and once again, got interrupted before being able to utter a word to each other. 

“Party Poison, Fun Ghoul, meet each other. Though it seems you’ve already made acquaintance” introduced Dr Death, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Here you go, kid”, ithe winked, giving a drink to Fun Ghoul. The kid in question awkwardly looked at his drink before looking back up to Party Poison. The singer grabbed his hand and led the way away from the bar, not looking back. He led them out of the venue by an exit unknown to Ghoul. Outside, they settled on a lonesome bench that somehow survived. 

“So uh, you're Dr D’s new kid, right ? Cherri Cola told us about you.” 

“Oh”, Ghoul grimaced. “Nothing embarrassing I hope. D acts like I'm a twelve year old in need of babysitting sometimes.” 

“ And you are..?”

“Seventeen, thank you. I don't need babysitters”. He takes a sip. “But I could use some friends.” 

Party chuckles. “I’ll introduce you to the rest of the band.” 

They stay there, legs dangling off the bench, knees touching. Neither of them speaks, they just sip on their drinks and stare at the building emanating with music. Early May is already hot in the desert, but once the sun has set, it’s always a bit chilly outside no matter the season. Fun Ghoul likes the warmth of Party Poison and the alcohol. Party Poison likes how Fun Ghoul’s jacket is cold, how the chill and and cool soda refreshes him after the show.

“So… about earlier…” Poison initiates. He doesn't take his eyes off what’s in front of them, afraid to face Fun Ghoul. 

“Oh, yeah. You guys were great. Really dig the show.”

Party Poison almost breaks his neck turning to him. They had a whole moment up there and kissed on stage but this guy just thought “they were great”?? What was his deal ? At the sight of his grimace, Ghoul seems to understand what he’s thinking and breaks into a shit eating grin.

“M’kidding. You were fucking hot. Come here.” Fun Ghoul laughs and puts his arm around Party Poison’s shoulders. They’re now facing each other, foreheads touching. The younger teen looks at him, as if to ask permission. As an answer, the Killjoy crashes their lips together. 

The kiss tasted like blood, alcohol and nicotine. Not an appetizing mix, but the skies knew Party had peculiar taste. They raised their hand to stroke along Fun Ghoul’s jawline and deepened the kiss. Before they knew it, their back is against the bench's, and Ghoul is straddling on their thighs. Party’s hands go from Ghoul’s face to his back, and then his ass. He feels himself relaxing against the other boy’s body. He who wanted a cigarette ended up getting high another way. 

" Do you kiss anyone who looks at you twice?" Party hadn't intended for the question to sound this mean. They cringed at themselves. 

"Just the really hot red heads," Ghoul says. He didn't seem to have picked up on the accidentally  implied insult, thankfully. "I actually don't know what came over me. S'not in my habits to kiss strangers. Must be the alcohol. Got to my head too fast." 

"That makes two of us, then", chuckled Party as they resumed kissing Ghoul.

Their make out session was going steady when the quiet roar of an electric engine was heard. BL/ind was here. It seemed only Party noticed. 

He kept on kissing Ghoul, almost like he was glued to his lips. Fun Ghoul suddenly broke the kiss, burying his face in the crook between Party’s neck and shoulder. He was out of breath, trying to find a rhythm. How cute.

“What, not used to kissing boys ? You can say I'm a girl if you'd prefer.” He joked, looking around them. The familiar white headlights of BL/ind’s cars were slowly getting closer. His protégé whimpered a bit, not budging from his position. Cute, he thought, but impractical. The car drifted around the building and stopped in front of them. Party Poison brought Fun Ghoul closer before he could move away, and whispered in his ear . 

“Don't move, pretty boy.” 

Ghoul held his breath. Party slowly unsheathed his ray gun, staring at the parked car. After a couple seconds of nothing, the car doors opened. Two dracs. 

Party shot thrice, not bothering to stand up. Both the Draculoids fell face first in the sand and the third one blew the siren on the car’s roof. He took a breath of relief. To be honest with themselves, they hadn't believed they would make the shots. In between the alcohol, their less than pratical position and the high of the kissing, making not one, but three perfect shots in a row was lucky. Or so they'd say if they did believe in luck. Party had always prefered to say it was fate.

“Okay, Ghoul, you can let go.”

Fun Ghoul fell backwards before the other one could catch him and landed his back in the sand. Looking upside down, he whistled at the damages Party Poison had just inflicted.

“ That sure was hot.” 

“You haven't seen nothing yet. Come on, let's blow their coms before they get to us.” 

“Ooo, technology. I like that.” 

“You know about cars?”

“Boy, do I know about cars !” exclaimed Fun Ghoul. “I mean, nothing crazy. I worked part time at a garage shop before the fires. Also was in the electronics club in my school.” 

“So you're like, a total nerd ? You’d fit right in.”

They sat in the front of the car, looking at the dashboard full of screens and buttons. They drove the car away from the venue, before emptying it out of its gas and other valuables, and finally decided to blow it up. Fun Ghoul gave Party Poison a full breakdown of BL/ind’s cars technology and what they could get out of each. Party Poison showed Fun Ghoul how to shoot a ray gun, their arm alongside him, chest pressed to his back, chin rested on his shoulder. Ghoul fought the urge to kiss them. 

“Can you see auras ?”

“Auras ?”Asked Fun Ghoul. He had heard Dr Death and Show Pony mention things about auras before, but nothing too concrete.

“Whatever. You'll learn. For now, just focus on our target—the little light underneath the trunk’s opening. And when you aim, pull the trigger in sync with your heartbeat.” 

He pulled the trigger. Bullseye. The car exploded. Party Poison cheered. They didn't kiss. He loved the thrill of firing the gun but missed when BL/ind was just advertisements on the TV.

Chapter Text

Fun Ghoul wanted to kill everyone in the room and then himself. He was continuingly sinking deeper and deeper into one of Cherri Cola’s beaten up couches. It was Jet Star’s birthday, and he wanted to die. Everyone is either intoxicated, wasted or both. He liked parties where they partied, danced and blasted music, not the ones when everyone abused whatever substance they had gotten their hands on for the time being. It had been three months since he had started riding with the Killjoys, but he was still not used to the sudden dynamics changes. Sometimes they were the bestest of friends and felt almost normal, other days they literally threw pieces of junk at each other. He still remembered Party almost knocking out his brother with a lamp. Fun Ghoul thought they should all fistfight their frustration out, like real men. 

However, judging by his attitude since the beginning of the gathering, it seemed Party Poison was trying to fuck it out. Not with him, though. Anyone but him, as it appeared. They were on another couch, facing the one Ghoul is one, arm wrapped against some rando’s waist and giving them bedroom eyes. Disgusting. 

Was it because they were friends now ? After their first night together, Party had rushed to introduce Ghoul to the Killjoys, which seemed like a pretty big deal. And afterwards, they had kept things strictly platonic, which he didn't mind, at least before Party started a lone competition of scoring the most people in the Zones. It was about two weeks ago, and ever since then, they had seemed colder with Ghoul, almost as if they were avoiding him.

“Wanna come outside with me ?” Jet Star offers, throwing himself besides Ghoul on the couch. 

“Fuck, please. Let’s get the hell out.” 

So they did. 

Outside the wooden shack where Cherri Cola and the Venomous siblings —Party Poison and Kobra Kid— reside, the two Killjoys took place on a bench Kobra made last year. It was covered in scribbles and junk. Fun Ghoul sighed, beer half full in his hand. He felt awful wasting already limited resources, but getting wasted would probably end up feeling worse. Fortunately, Jet seemed sober enough. 

“Happy fucking birthday, Jet. Never let Poison throw another birthday party. No offense. I just like it better with more music and less mind altering substances.” Jet Star huffed out a laugh, and raised his own beer as if to make a toast.

“Happy fucking birthday to me, hell yeah. Party never told you they’re an addict ? I mean, it’s in the name— Party Poison. I think it helps him forget our situation.” 

“So he’s like, hooked on meds ? Knew he liked weed and alcohol, but…”

“No, he’s addicted to parties,”Jet interrupted. “Literally. I think he loves the planning and ambiance or something. And getting high while grinding on other boys too, I guess.”

Fun Ghoul spits on the floor. He almost gags.

“You're jealouus~”, Jet singsonged, shaking the younger teen’s shoulder. “Don’t be.” He brings Fun Ghoul’s forehead to his lips and kisses it. “They couldn't resist you if you just asked .”

Fun Ghoul liked Jet Star a lot. When Party Poison had first introduced him to the other Killjoys, more than two months ago, Fun Ghoul couldn't help but exclaim : “Finally someone not a part of the lame alliteration-name gang.” And to that, Jet had laughed. A deep, earthy laugh. A warm smile and an accepting high-five. And as their hands clapped, Fun Ghoul had decided Jet was his favorite Killjoy. They spent time together fixing guitars and playing them (they now had seven—seven!!—functioning guitars and basses at their disposal), asking the other about their hair type, or gossiping about Party Poison and Merry Mayhem’s latest hookups. The duo also liked to babysit Motorbaby, Merry’s sweet little girl (she seemed to keep her real name a secret). The others did it too, but those two often specifically asked for time with the baby. So young, so frail, but a little ray of hope for everyone around. A first step into a full generation of desert borns. If none of the current gangs took down BL/ind, maybe the next batch of kids would carry on with the mission. 

“About asking. There's something I want to ask you, Ghoul.” 

“No, I'm not driving for the next scavenging trip.” He whined before seeing the serious look in Jet’s eyes. “Oh. Oh. I’ll drive, sorry.” Jet Star doesn't take his eyes off of him. 

“Merry’ll drive. S’not about that. It’s about the Killjoys. I want you-we all want you to join us. The band. Like, officially.” 

Fun Ghoul's jaw hung wide open. He had come to accept he was an honorary Killjoy, on the same level as Cherri Cola,Dr Death Defying or Show Pony, but joining the band? Practicing with them and performing and standing on the same stage as Kobra and Merry and Jet and Party ? What the hell. 

“Huh ?” 

It's the most stupidest thing he could have ever answered. Huh? Was he stupid? Yes, he probably was. 

“ Me and the others. We all want you in. Rhythm guitar. We’ll get to rock together. Feels more complete when it’s the five of us. We figured the feeling also applied to the band. The fact that you’re a fucking amazing guitarist is also a great bonus. They’ll love how crazy you get.” 

Fun Ghoul wanted to throw himself in Jet Star’s arms and cry out all the tears in his body. He imagined what he felt was like girls felt when being proposed to. An emotional tsunami, an incomprehensible mix of fear, eagerness, anxiety and excitement. Overwhelmed with joy, he finally decided to let it take over and jumped to stand on his feet. He raised his beer, mimicking Jet's earlier gesture. 

“Happy FUCKING birthday Jet ! And yet you're the one spoiling me. I could cry. I could kiss you right now. Like, on the lips.” The birthday boy smiled wide, like an invitation. So naturally, Ghoul obliged and gave him a big smack on the lips. It felt very cartoony, hands grabbing Jet’s soft cheeks and both their mouths pressed in an exaggerated smooch pose. He could go on and kiss everyone in that damned shack right now. 

“ Do I get a kiss as well?” 

Here they were. Fucking Party Poison. 

“You’re not the birthday boy, Party”, declared Jet simply as he stood up. Walking over to the redhead, he put his hand on their shoulder as he went past them. “You’ve got to leave some for the rest of us, you know?” He then leaned in to whisper something in their ear, which made Party scoff in indignation and walk away, already starting to prep a cigarette. Jet Star was calm, but resourceful. Under his peaceful appearance, he knew just how to push everyone's buttons. Fun sometimes wondered what he’d say to him to piss him off. 

“C’mon, Ghoul.” Jet interrupted his trail of thoughts. He made a sign for him to follow, and Ghoul happily obliged. He was not staying alone outside with a pissed off, wasted and chainsmoking Party Poison. 

Back in the shack, nothing much had changed, besides the decline in clothing from most of the guests. It’s always hot in the desert, and turning a relatively small cabin into a hot box didn't help. He tossed his military vest, and jumped on the dining table. 

“Let’s have a toast to Jet motherfucking Star !” 

Everyone cheers drunkenly . Kobra Kid gives a one man standing ovation. Fun Ghoul sees he’s just in his boxers and a shirt. The Venomous siblings were fucking sluts. And everyone wanted a piece. Mostly of the older one, but if by chance Kobra Kid came to throw himself at him, even Ghoul wouldn't exactly reject him. Shit, maybe he was a bit of a slut as well. So be it. 

As everyone started singing happy birthday, he noticed Party Poison silently made their way back inside the room, unlit cigarette in mouth. They stayed by the door, not looking at him, and clapped along the birthday song almost too calmly. Fun Ghoul wanted to strangle them with his bare hands. The thought quickly turns erotic, so he tries to discard it. 

_____ 

Fun Ghoul came by Cherri and the brothers’ house almost daily, but this time, he was hesitant before the door. Today was the day. He was officially joining the band. He’s standing on the porch like a dumbass, and before he could reach the doorknob, the door had already slammed open. 

“Oh, hey Fun ! Get in the car, we’re going!!” Merry happily exclaimed, kissing him on the cheeks and already moving. That girl was a real storm, always in motion, unpredictable. But she somehow managed to do it while staying charismatic and not being annoying. From what the others, especially Jet, had told him, she always had this fire burning, almost like a bomb inside her. She killed dracs like she drove, danced and probably like she fucked(maybe Party was competing against her for the Zones’ highest body count) passionate, rough, but efficiently. She always said what was on her mind, even the distasteful stuff about them. A real rock star. Ghoul wished he’d manage to act more unapologetic as well. Compared to the others, he still felt more attached to his old life. Maybe because he had spent so much time lonely in the desert. For a year and a half after he had lost his family in the fires, he had traveled alone, clinging to memories of what once was and never would be again. He’d probably have joined Battery City, had he not witnessed first hand the violence of BL/ind’s militia.

“Fun Ghoul!” Kobra Kid greeted, smile on his face. “You don't how happy we are to do this with you.” He leans in and adds only for him to hear. “I think Party Poison is especially excited to practice with you.” 

He felt a blush creeping on his cheeks. Things between him and Poison have been odd since Jet’s birthday. It’s like the singer does everything possible to avoid being one on one with him. Was it because he kissed Jet Star ? If so, Party was a dramatic bitch. Fun had endured countless occurrences of seeing making out with other people. He had no right to be jealous. And if the avoidance was for another reason then… he’d just have to find out. 

He opened the car door and went to sit in the middle, Kobra Kid on his right. The Killjoys car —Motorbomb, as they called it— was a red truck, as American as they got. Party Poison, the gang’s artist, had adorned it with colorful paint lines reminiscent of each of them. Inside, a collection of trinkets on the dashboard and keepsakes from gas stations tied to the rearview mirror. It smelled like cigarettes and candy. It also sported countless dents and even some holes in the door from bullet impacts. The fact that the windshield was still intact was nothing but a pure miracle. Somehow, the mess made it cozy. 

Everything was like that with the Killjoys : messy, raw and sometimes violent, but so accepting and cozy. Like a family. 

“Let's go.” Declared Party as he slammed the door shut. Jet Star went shotgun, and closed his door as well. Merry turned on the car. 

Fun Ghoul doesn't know what to do with Party Poison so close to him. 

“Hey, Ghoulie. M’happy you’re there.” 

And as if that declaration wasn't already sappy enough, they leaned in to rest their head on Ghoul’s shoulder at the same time. His heart fluttered, both due to the nickname and the sudden touch. After two weeks of this weird distance, that much proximity at once was on the verge of making him explode.

“My, my, aren't you two a cute couple,” teased Merry, looking at Ghoul through the rearview mirror.

“We’re not…”Ghoul began.

“C’mon Ghoulie, you’re basically my wife at this point. My very bitchy wife who might poison my coffee, but still.” Interrupted Poison, not moving from his shoulder. 

“Well then, I want a divorce.” 

The drive to the venue was light, the mood enlightened by jokes and a good report from Dr D on the radio.

Good news in the Zones, ratty freaks.

Our Insiders restocked the stations along route Guano and exterminators aren't on our tracks yet

Lace your boots and gas up your cars, it’s time for a refill. 

“Should we ditch the practice to go?” Asked Jet. It was true that the offer was tempting. After two years in a barren desert, the freaks living there had gone through most of the supplies left there. Zone 1, 5 and 6 hadn't been thoroughly explored yet, but that was due to their respective dangerousness. Some brave people called “insiders” had an underground network of tunnels connecting BL/ind’s factories to the Zones. From there, Insiders stole products deemed to go to the trash for not meeting industry standards, and snuck them out. They gave out canned food and drinks for free, but they could also be commissioned for specific products. In the Zones, money was utility. It took two forms : services and carbons. 

Carbons were little magnetic batteries the size of a coin that could power anything when just stuck on it. Very useful for people who lived where no electricity ran. You could obtain carbons from killing dracs who always had a dozen inside their masks, or basically in most of BL/ind’s exterminators’ material. It powered anything, from toasters and lightbulbs to their mics and amps at shows. 

“Well, duh.” answered Kobra matter-of-factly. “I need something other than canned foods.” 

“Ah yes, Batt City’s famous pre-cooked meals. So much better and comforting.” teased Fun Ghoul.

“Don't say that.” Party's voice cut sharp, defensive of his younger brother. “ It's the closest thing to pre-fire food.” 

“I wouldn't know.” 

Party gave him a questioning look and Ghoul just shrugged. He should have shut his mouth. Having been alone so long, he had never rushed towards fresher food at the fear of clashing against a non friendly gang, or exterminators. Not that he couldn't handle dracs when he was alone, but he’d rather avoid them. So he just ate what he found, usually leftover cans of food that no one else wanted. Good thing he wasn't picky. The food from before the fires was the one thing he had quickly forgotten the habit of. 

They ended up voting on going to Route Guano. It would probably take them the rest of the day, and they’d probably have to camp for the night. Jet used the radio to send a message to Cherri, informing him of their departure.

Following up on D’s advice. Heading up to Route Guano. Will probably come back tomorrow. Tell D and Merry’s baby daddy. Pray we don't get dusted.

Jet, you speak like you’re writing. This is a radio, not a fax. Be careful out there kids. 

“He's right!” added Merry, barely controlling her laughter. “You talk all funny when you do the station calls. A real dork.”

“Shut up !” 

The endless horizon of the desert surrounded the Killjoys and the Motorbomb. The afternoon was shifting into the evening, but the sun had still yet to set. It was summer, after all. One hour, two hours passed. Fun Ghoul felt himself drifting away. Party had gotten up from his shoulders a couple of times, but after he finished bragging or making snarky remarks, he always came back to leaning on him. At some point, Ghoul just stopped fighting and gave into the sleepiness, resting his head on top of Poison’s. On the radio, he vaguely recognized an old song. 

With a brick in hand, your lip gloss smile 

Your scraped up knees 

And if you want, I would even stay all night 

Oddly enough, he managed to dream. He rarely dreamed anymore. 

“Hey, Ghoulie….” 

The Killjoy was gently awoken by the older Venomous brother. He opened his eyes slowly and saw they were still driving. 

“Are we… there yet …?” 

“ We’ll be there in like twenty. But you need to prepare.” 

The ominous command shook him awake. Prepare ?? What for ? He assumed they were doing an equivalent of shopping, and that maybe he’d even get to stay in the car. Not like he was picky with food. Party Poison gave him a look. A look full of mischief and excitement. 

“When you were sleeping, we talked about you. And us. All of us. You’ve been riding with us for a while, and you know how to handle supply runs and lone dracs. But that’s different.” 

They paused, still beaming. Ghoul nodded, asking them to continue. 

“Well, route Guano’s stations are very valuable, and thus dangerous. You know dracs, but fights against other gangs can be equally dangerous.”

“If not more !” Added Merry. “The Witch knows BL/ind’s crappy puppets aren't shit.” 

He felt the same warmth in his heart as when Jet Star had asked to join the band. He had learned to fire a ray gun, learned to distinguish the auras around things before shooting them, but never had the opportunity to put his training into practice. The missions they went on together for the past months had never left him alone in front of a drac, and before he rode with the Killjoys, he had found other ways to get rid of them. Other rather distasteful ways, that he’d rather not talk about. 

The car slowed down and stopped. Fun Ghoul saw a station, about fifty meters in front of them. There were other cars around, and people roaming. It seemed peaceful, but a bargain could quickly turn into a fight. Merry, snapping back into her leader persona, explained the plan. She’d stay in the car while the others went. The Killjoys were quite known, so that would introduce Fun Ghoul as their new member. They would take what they need and exchange with other gangs. If anything went south, Jet would call Merry and she’d get the car ready to go. 

The final detail almost made Ghoul tear up. When they all stepped out of the car, Mayhem handed him her ray gun. It was electric blue, like the strand in her hair, and decorated with a bedazzled pink lighting bolt. Very her. She put a solemn hand on his shoulder, gripping it firmly. 

“ You’re ready to get a gun. Go live, kill, and die as one of us.” 

“Don't worry, she does that for dramatic effect.”whispered Kobra in his ear when they walked away. He didn't say anything back, his hand gripping the gun hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. After two long and lonesome years, he finally belonged. 

_______ 

The supply run went great. Not just good, great. When they entered, people immediately recognized Party. The red hair did make him striking after all. Star and Kid had greeted the lot and quietly sneaked deeper into the station, checking things off their list as they found them. Meanwhile, Party had grabbed Ghoul and pressed his side against his. 

“Everyone, meet the newest Killjoy ! That's Fun Ghoul,my new little wife.” The boy concerned rolled his eyes at them. 

“ M’sorry baby, everyone knows you're not quite marriage material” he joked back, giving Party a peck on his cheek and getting away from the crowd in a swift move. He had pretended to laugh, but really, he was annoyed.Ghoul didn't look back as he joined the others. 

“What’s up with your brother ?!” 

“Like I’d know,”replied Kobra, comparing two cans of food. “Do you like beef or chicken better ?” 

“Whatever. It’s just, he’s just - arrgh !! It’s just like- like they can't make up their mind or something. We meet, we’re bordeline fucking, he introduces me to ya’ll, two week later he ignores me, hooks up with half of Zone 4, and then comes back all clingy like we’re fucking boyfriends or something. This bastard—sorry Kobes— called me his fucking wife. Twice. ” 

“TMI, Ghoul. TMI, really.” Kobra sighed.

He then goes on to tell him it's because Party probably likes him. He refuses to believe it. Why would they have given him the cold shoulder for three weeks otherwise ? Jet Star threw a box of condoms at his head, telling Ghoul to get over his crush and go back to their list. He cursed him out but pocketed it. They went back to scavenging. 

In total, there were about five gangs of teens at this station. Adding up to around thirty people total, they got along well and decided to set camp here for the night. So here they were, Killjoys and others, behind a gas station, sat around a campfire, laughing, drinking, and trading rations and services. 

Fun Ghoul had to admit pre-cooked food was miles ahead of canned food. It did taste like Before. Who knew broccolis and chicken thighs could hit so close to home ? 

Sat next to Kobra, he corrected himself about their earlier disagreement about food. After a second of hesitation, he decided to tell him about his relationship with food. How he hated all things BL/Ind on principe and his years of isolation never allowed him to eat properly. To his relief, the fake blond didn't give him a pitiful look. Just a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, and a promise that they’d always provide the best they could for each other. 

The sun slowly set, and the temperature went down. People huddled up together for warmth, and part of the teenagers slowly went to sleep, leaving half of them awake, either on watch duty or just not ready to sleep yet. Ghoul was the latter. He couldn't sleep. Fun Ghoul had already slept plenty in the car, because of course he always did. So now he couldn't . And to add on to the lack of sleep, he was pent up. He tried to rationalize, reminding himself he’d be back at D’s place the next day, where he'd have his own room to jerk off as much as he wanted to. For now, maybe a smoking break away from the group would help relieve his nerves.

He stood up and told Merry he was going for a smoke. She gave him a heads up and told him to stay alert. She gave him her gun once again, that he had given back when she had joined them earlier. 

She told him to be careful, he said he always was. He wished he wasn't. 

Maybe that was why he was so angry at Party Poison. They allowed themselves to be carefree at parties, let loose, kiss everyone they wanted—because everyone wanted them back anyway. Fun Ghoul had learned to make acquaintances and re-learned the art of small talk, but that was about it. The only person he had had the courage to take things further with was Party, the night they met. And he still wasn't sure what came over it that time.

Did he want to be with him, or be him ? 

Now about twenty meters away from the others, he settled on a big rock and lit his cigarette. As he watched the campfire from here, contemplating his current situation, he saw someone standing up and coming towards him. Jet Star ? No…The silhouette got closer, until it was in front of him, and Ghoul saw that this wasn't anyone from his group indeed.

“Hey. You’re the new Killjoy, right ?”

“Fun Ghoul, yeah. You ?” 

Ghoul studied the newcomer. He was tall, even taller than Kobra and Jet. He had dark green hair, falling past his shoulders in quite pretty curls. He had a pretty face, but the scar on his left cheek gave him a more serious look. He had the shadow of a growing beard peaking back, and pierced ears. The man wore tight black jeans, and a leather jacket that matched with his hair. Underneath, he had a mesh top for all shirts, making it easy to see his defined abs and the couple tattoos he had. Fun Ghoul had thought he’d prefer to be alone, but oddly enough, his presence was welcome. Maybe it was the thrill of making new acquaintances on his own, and finally get the damned singer out of his mind.

“ Name’s Viper. I ride with The Circus.” 

Ghoul knew that gang. It was Show Pony’s before they decided to go solo. It gave them a first topic of easy going conversation. They talked about Pony, then about themselves, and about almost everything while sharing the cigarette. It was nice. Viper was attentive, asking him questions about himself and seemingly really interested in getting to know him. They shared the same love for music, horror novels and cars, although Viper was more of a bike guy. He was also captivating to listen to, with a myriad of stories and anecdotes that made Fun Ghoul long for more of his own. More. Now that the Killjoys and Dr Death gave him something, he found himself constantly craving for more. More adventures, more machines to build, more tattoos to get, scars to heal, people to touch and be touched by. Was it so bad ? Was it too much ?

Viper lit another cigarette when they finished the first one. He took a drag, and held it towards Fun Ghoul. Instead of palming it, he lowered himself to attain it, and took a hit from the stick still in between Viper’s fingers. A bit enterprising, but who could blame him? And the green haired man smirked at him, which seemed to prove he had made the right move. 

“Wanna shotgun ?” 

So that was how seconds later,Fun Ghoul found himself sitting on the rock, legs spread, Viper standing in between them, one arm on his upper thigh and the other holding the cigarette. He had to admit this situation was delectable. It’d be a lie to say the green haired man wasn't unfairly attractive. Viper took a long drag before coming to meet Fun at his level. The Killjoy put his right arm around the other’s neck, and parted his lips, letting the smoke penetrate his mouth. As neither of them broke eye contact, Viper held the cigarette in front of Ghoul next, who happily took a hit. And as he put his hand down, Viper came even closer, crotch pressing against his, lips brushing against his. 

Ghoul prayed he wouldn't get hard embarrassingly fast. Apart from now with Viper, Party Poison was the first person he had some kind of action with since the Fires. He failed to suppress a moan, and was suddenly aware of the proximity with the other people. While most were sleeping, about one member of each gang was still awake, watching over. People could definitely see them. He didn't need anyone in his group witnessing him finally getting some action. 

“We shouldn't— It’s just, I mean—” Fun Ghoul stuttered. 

“What, your little boyfriend doesn't share?” 

Fun gently nudged Viper away and stared at him, dumbfounded. He had been trying very to be polite and proper, even in his head, and tried not to think of Party, or compare Viper with him, but here he was bringing them up himself! Well, who else could he be talking about? 

“Boyfriend?” 

“ Boyfriend, wife, partner, fuck buddy, I don't know. Whatever you guys call it. Party Poison ?” 

“ We are not together. Why would you go after me thinking we were anyway?” 

Viper took another last drag of the cigarette before tossing it. “You were too cute. Had to try and confirm anyway. So what? You’re like, saving yourself for them or something? I don't mind him joining.Or if you wanna stop at that, s’fine by me as well.” 

“What ? No ! It's me and you, that's it. I’d just rather go somewhere less, you know, exposed.” 

“ Ooh. That’s … yeah, that’s a good idea” realised Viper, looking over his shoulder at the campfire. 

They walked back over to the gas station, trying to stay as far as possible from the group. Ghoul didn't dare looking back to see if any Killjoy looked at him. Once again, he was afraid of something the others would probably do without thinking twice about it. He’d learn the Zone’s way somehow. Sometimes. Maybe getting pounded by a near stranger in a gas station was the way. 

“So… where do you think we can settle?”

“Toilets ?” Proposed Viper. “Not the most romantic, but I think our gangs would kill us if we went in either of our cars.”

“True.” said Ghoul . “But I guess a gas station has to have a break room as well . Unless you like the toilet better ?” 

“ So you’re like, hot and smart, damn” complimented Viper, kissing him on the forehead. 

Fun Ghoul didn't explain his backstory with gas station break rooms. He didn't explain how it was where he settled most of the time he had spent alone, because it was somewhat cozy and people didn't think about raiding it, so he was safe. Lonely, so lonely, but safe. Now he’d get to be safe with someone. Feel some body heat that didn't come from his own. He thought back of the song from earlier. 

‘Til we find our way in the dark and out of harm

You can run away with me anytime you want 

Well, anytime you want 

They quickly found the break room, a door behind the cash out counter leading to it. It was cleaner than the rest of the gas station, and to their delight, even had a couch. It smelled a bit musty inside, but by Zone freaks’ standards, it was almost perfect.  

“Wha—”

“Shh. Let me take care of you” 

Ghoul let Viper take the lead. The tall man had grabbed him to hold him bridal style. Viper threw him on the couch before settling on top of him, one of his knees pressing against his crotch. Ghoul moaned again, a little too loud for his liking. 

“You’re not like, a virgin or something, Ghoulie ?(He cringed at the nickname.) Don't wanna startle you.” 

“ M’not. But I haven't, uh, done anything with someone since the Fires.” 

Viper started kissing along his neck, slow, but hungry. 

“You’re basically a Desert virgin. Let’s change that. If that’s okay with you?” 

“Fuck yeah, man. Just do anything you want. I’ll do anything you like.” 

He felt Viper smile against his neck before biting him. He was surprised at how good it felt. Ghoul's hands went on Viper’s back, sliding under his mesh top. 

Viper kept kissing Ghoul all over as he humped his knee, before sitting straight up, and taking off his leather jacket. His strong arms were also adorned with tattoos. Ghoul sat up as well and went shirtless. 

“Cool tats.” Observed Viper. “ Are they from Before or After ?” 

“All Before. Didn't even know there were ways to get tatted up here.” 

“So you’re like, a real punk rocker.” said Viper, now trailing down to his collarbones and upper chest with his kisses. “I got all of mine in the Zones. I’ll hook you up with my guy.” 

As Ghoul tried to answer, the other bit his nipple, and he couldn't refrain from whimpering. He desperately grabbed Viper's face, bringing it back up to clash with his own. The kisses they shared were full of hunger, yet still had a hint of tenderness in them. It was all Fun Ghoul ever craved. The only difference was Viper didn't taste like Party Poison. But he tasted like an energy drink, sweet and electric. Revigorating. He tasted like finally getting something for himself, finally daring to embrace the new way of life. Their kisses tasted like freedom. 

_______ 

The early rays of sun spilling through a lone window woke Fun Ghoul up. He slowly emerged, still blissful from last night. He had fallen asleep on Viper’s chest. He noticed he was almost naked, but thankful for his past self to have put his boxers back on. Thankfully, nobody had walked in on them, but it would have been nothing short of mortifying if someone did. Ghoul got dressed up, and gathered Viper’s clothes from the floor. The other man woke up as well. 

“ Not leaving me like a dirty little secret, are you?” 

Ghoul felt oddly guilty, despite the fact that he didn't intend to leave him at all. Maybe it was due to the thought of the walk of shame back to his own group when they inevitably would have to go. 

“Wouldn't dare. I-Actually, I’d like it if we could see each other again sometime.” Ghoul blushed. Viper beamed in response, grabbing his clothes and putting them on . 

“I’d like that, yeah. You know what, make your little friends throw a party and we’ll get to see each other again that way ? The Circus’s mostly a travelling gang, I can't exactly ditch them on the regular.” 

Ghoul felt warm inside at the thought of a next party. He’d probably be on stage by that time. Sharing a few more kisses, the boys finished getting dressed and left the gas station. 

Outside, only their groups and another one remained. That meant two had already left. The young adults were eagerly chatting and packing up, ready to leave. Viper and Ghoul said goodbye to each other before joining their respective groups. 

As he joined the Killjoys, he noticed only Merry Mayhem and Kobra Kid were there. Merry gave him a knowing look, but didn't say anything. She just explained, like she was reading his mind:

“Jet and Party are already in the car.” And she started walking towards where they were parked in big steps.

 Falling in line, Kobra and Ghoul were now side by side. 

“Congrats on getting laid. But don't make it messy, please.” declared Kobra. 

“Messy ?” 

“With my brother. He was pretty pissed when he saw you weren't there when he woke up.” 

“Not my problem.” 

“Kinda is. Whatever is going on, nobody wants it to get in the way of the group. You were rambling to me about them yesterday. And they were rambling about you this morning. So you two better sort your shit out. 

As they reached the car, Ghoul saw Party in the passenger seat. Great. He sat behind him, and that way, could avoid all eye contact. 

Merry turned on the ignition and started driving. After a dozen minutes of listening to the radio for information, she turned it off and started reviewing their trip. 

“This went, like, awesome. I honestly never imagined we’d get to get friendly and cozy with other groups.” 

“ Looks like some of us got real cozy”, laughed Jet, gently nudging Ghoul’s side from the middle seat. Even while being a teasing asshole, Jet was an angel. How he agreed to take the middle seat despite his size was beyond Ghoul. Probably had to do with a Venomous brother's bad mood. 

“Anyways,” continued Merry,”We made valuable trades and connections. I got someone from The Runners to get Ghoul a ray gun. We also need him to get some actual on field experience. And onstage experience too. I say I drive everyone home now, and we go practicing tomorrow?” 

Everyone agreed. The rest of the ride was quiet, save for Dr D or Cherri Cola's voice spilling through the speakers. Rocked by the speed of the car, Fun Ghoul slowly drifted into sleep once again. He dreamed of red and green flames, he dreamed of his lone time in the desert, and of the warmth he felt next to the campfire.

And if you stay, I would even wait all night

Or until my heart explodes, ho w long until we

Find our way in the dark and out of harm?

You can run away with me anytime you want

Chapter Text

Fun Ghoul is laying on the floor, looking almost possessed as he plays his guitar, and it takes all of Party’s strength to not kick him.

It was the third party they had attended since their road trip to Route Guano. For once, it wasn't them hosting. The Killjoys had actually been invited to play, which was a pretty big deal, in their opinion. 

Tonight, they found themselves out in Zone 5, in a beaten down theater. Remains of old cities were rare, as BL/Ind had pretty much taken everything to expand Battery City. But a few half burned towns remained. Desert freaks called them ghost towns. Nobody approached the ghost towns in Zone 1,2 and 3, their proximity to the city making it more likely for exterminators or plain old bulldozers to come, but the further they got, the less likely it was that they would be bothered. 

Oh, let me tell you 'bout the sad man

Shut up and let me see your jazz hands

They kept on singing, refraining the urge to kick their guitarist off the stage in a swift motion. 

Remember when you were a madman

Thought you was Batman

He hated how good Ghoul was at this. Jumping around and throwing himself on the ground during their performances. Nobody had expected it the first time, save for Jet, who quietly laughed at their surprised faces. Yet, his energy was perfect. It matched their songs, the message they conveyed, and their lifestyle. Loud, unpredictable and unapologetic. 

And hit the party with a gas can

Kiss me, you animal

Party Poison pointed at someone random in the crowd while screaming that last part. He recognized one of Merry’s old flings, a blonde girl always dressed in pink brighter than his hair. Party gave her a genuine smile as he attacked onto the second chorus with Jet backing him up.

You run the company

(Na, na-na, na-na, na-na)

Fuck like a Kennedy

He loved that song. It was the first they had composed together, the four of them. He still remembered them, more than a year ago, papers and guitars scattered on the floor of Cherri’s shack. By the Witch, he missed that time. 

(Na, na-na, na-na, na-na)

I think we'd rather be

Burning your information

Party loved Jet Star's voice as backing vocals. He loved his musical genius, their musical chemistry. He loved being in a band, playing shows, and making music. He wished it was all there was to life. Alas. 

As the Killjoys left the small stage, Party saw him. That tall, beautiful, green haired asshole. Fun Ghoul's boyfriend. They hated him, and hated the fact that he was nice to everyone, even them. The glare Party shot him apparently didn't discourage —what was his name? Snake ?— from coming up to compliment them. 

“ Hey Party! Congrats on your show, you did amazing as always.”

“Thanks. Nice to see you here.” Replied Party, forcing a polite smile and making his way through the dense crowd. He didn't turn back to see the lovebirds reuniting, their squeals somehow loud like sirens in his ears despite the ambient noise. 

“Here goes my favorite artist ! You were awesome up there, Ghoul. “

“Viper !” Party guessed Ghoul threw himself in Viper’s arms. Not that he cared. No, Party didn't care that Ghoul had a beautiful, older, taller, muscular and tattooed boyfriend. He could probably steal him away if he wanted. Not that he would dare—Poison just knew he could. 

“Cheer up bro !” Shouted Jet Star in his ear over the music. Another DJ, local to Zone5, had taken over. “We killed it up here !” 

“I think I need to get shit faced !” They screamed back.

“Whatever Pois ! Just be there when we leave tomorrow at dawn ! And don't get too shitfaced !” 

And Jet was gone. Party sighed and made his way to the bar, opposite of the stage. He vaguely recognized the barmaid with a teal buzzcut, but couldn't say from where. 

“ And you pretty boy, get two free drinks ! Tell your bandmates it goes for them as well.” 

The perks of being invited to perform. They asked for two cups of “whatever’s the strongest” and downed them both in a row. He took two more cups, paid, and downed them also. Poison hadn't lied when saying they intended to get shit faced. Tonight, he didn't feel like going around hunting for a hookup. The one person he actually wanted was taken, and he only had himself to blame for that.

He stayed in place at the bar, knowing the buzzing would turn into head spinning if he stood up. Party had had their fair share of experience in the drinking department, even in the Before . After some time alone, contemplating the crowded floor, jealously eyeing couples grinding on each other, Merry joined him. Had it been ten minutes or one hour already ? They had no fucking clue. 

“We get two free drinks each !!!” accidentally screamed Poison. Too loud. Now that he actually had to do something, he felt the weight of his alcohol consumption. 

“I know !!!!” shouted Mayhem back, tossing the loose strand of blue hair away from her face. Tonight, she had two half high pigtails, a bikini top, and a blue Dead Pegasus (the gas company, not the DJ) jacket. Party knew they’d have to steal that jacket someday. They’d steal all of her wardrobe if they could, bikini tops included. The drummer settled in the barstool on Party's right, facing the bar. Party turned around to face the same direction as her. 

“Date went home?” It was unusual to see Merry Mayhem alone at a gathering, after all. She collected girls like Party did comics. “Yeah, she left. Was from Zone 3 and didn't plan on spending the night, so her and her friends left.”, she explained, sipping on the drink the barmaid had just brought. “And you, not already getting off with someone? That’s unusual.”

“Tonight I choose booze over handjobs !”exclaimed Party as they raised their glass. Merry frowned. 

“Don't push it too much, though, Pois. Old habits die hard or whatever.” 

The music suddenly felt too loud as the words sunk in. Merry had striken him right where it hurt. Party had had a bit of a drinking problem dating back to before the Fires. The state of society after it got split in between Battery City and Desert Freaks left him in forced sobriety, learning to navigate a somewhat post-apocalyptic Californian Isle with a fourteen year old at his side. 

In the late months of 2013, as things had settled, their living situation was stable with Cherri, and their little friend group thriving, Party had totally relapsed, desperate and bored almost literally to death. Despite having found balance, the weight of their situation had fallen back on him, sending him into a pretty deep episode. Those weren't the best of times. Maybe his friend and leader was right, maybe getting shit faced for the sake of it, without even trying to enjoy the party was the first step towards a new downward spiral. Party let their head fall forehead first on Merry’s shoulder. 

“You're right…”, he slurred, “T’was a shit idea. Should have chosen the handjobs. Come outside with me?” 

“Sure Pois. I’ll hold you up. No hand stuff though.” 

And so she did, reliable as always. Party somehow managed to make it outside without collapsing on the ground. Merry Mayhem had offered her support, yes, but she was smaller than him, and if he were to suddenly trip and fall, she probably wouldn't be able to catch him safely. The two of them sat on some stairs just outside the theater. Poison’s head was spinning a little.There were a dozen people outside, casually smoking, drinking and chatting in little groups of four at most. One of these people was Kobra Kid, who left his own group as soon as he saw his friends. 

“Hey May, Pois,” he greeted. His little smile dropped as he seemed to notice the state Poison was in. Great, that was just what they needed. Drunk shame and humiliation. Party looked at his brother with teary eyes, mouthing a weak “I’m sorry”. Clearly, they had not thought this one through. How dared they put their brother in this position again ? Even Before, Kobra had been the one to shower them, and take them to bed when he found them passed out in the bathroom or on the porch if they were coming back from somewhere. Poison didn't want his brother to have to pick up his broken pieces again. He didn't want Kobra to clean his mess. Again. 

“I’ll take it from here, May.” declared Kobra, his eyes dark. 

“No !” protested Poison, grabbing Mayhem’s sleeve. “Merry’s with me. It’s okay. Enjoy your night, Kobes. Please.” 

Party felt the tears coming up, but didn't want to let them out. Kobra settled with them, although a bit less concerned than before. Poison being still able to form coherent sentences was apparently a relief. They still wished their little brother would resume enjoying his night out, but it didn't look like The Kid intended to leave.

“Why would you put yourself through this anyway?”

His voice was soft, almost too soft. It was really hard not to cry. But he wouldn't. Party would keep their last bit of strength and dignity not to crumble tonight.

“I…actually don't know”, they admitted. “Got off stage, and it seemed the right thing to do.” 

Kobra Kid looked at him for a while. In his stare, Poison saw he knew exactly what they were thinking. How could it ever be the right thing to do? It’s because of Ghoul, isn't it ? He could read it in his eyes. But they were too prideful to admit to it. It was just a stupid crush, and they had been the one to fumble anyway. They'd get over it eventually. 

“I didn't think I liked him that much…”, whispered Party. Nobody answered, if they had even heard him. He was glad they didn't. 

The three Killjoys sat there for a while, the fainter sound of music as background noise. Party slowly sobered up, comforted by the company of his little brother and friend. Despite his drunken state, he managed to join in on the conversation. They discussed their debut, reminiscing about their meeting on the road two years ago, about Dr D and Cherri, the anchors who helped keep all of them afloat. It felt nice, contemplating on the positivity in this shit world. They were stuck in the Zones, unwilling to join Batt City and unable to leave, but the fact that they had found love and community amongst acid rain and scorching rays of sun was pretty awesome. 

________

Hot. It’s too hot outside, but there’s no shade in sight. Just an endless plane of dust, of a yellow that’s almost grey. Party is alone in the car. Stupid idea. That’s what he got for trying to be nice. A nice suffocating road trip.

Hold your guns tight, Freaks

The sun is flaring today, but dracs don't care ! 

So stay inside, keep calm, and don't let your shadow get away…

Thanks, Dr D. They muttered, full of sarcasm. Like he hadn't been able to notice it was scorchingly hot outside. Here they were, trying to find medical supplies for Jet Star, their medic, and yet he was the one ten minutes away from needing medical aid. Poison hit the accelerator, heading north. Full speed ahead. At least they had found the supplies they wanted (a shit ton of gauze, disinfectant, some paracetamol and sleeping pills, along with smaller bandaids and even a bottle of cough syrup) and more (some diapers and puree for Merry’s baby !), but he had grown too confident, and went further and further south, all the way into Zone 2. There were more buildings here, as BL/Ind probably intended to repurpose them later, or use their materials. Party had been confident they’d find valuable things there. Maybe some paint for themselves, and the others would probably be happy with machine scraps or any kind of working electronic. Kobra had been desperately trying to find a CD player for months. 

But no, he didn't find anything in Zone 2. Just an absurd amount of BL/Ind employees and exterminators (why were regular employees here ??) and what had appeared to be an ongoing construction site. 

They still had completed their mission, despite that. The fact that they got shot was just unfortunate. Maybe Poison wouldn't be so close to passing out if he hadn't been shot in the thigh. At least it had been a real bullet, and not from a ray gun. A little pretentious from that scientist, but fortunate for him, because ray guns burned like hell. Oh, maybe it would have cauterized the wound directly? He thought about it for a second before concluding that no, he would just have been left with a hole going all the way through his thigh. So, an old fashioned gun with material bullets actually seemed a preferable option. Even though the best option would obviously be to not having been shot at all.

Poison pressed the pedal a little more. It hurted like hell. He was in Cherri’s car, a reliable Cadillac. Shit. Cherri would kill him if he got blood on the seat. Party looked down at his blood soaked pants, but thankfully it didn't seem to spill on the side. Somehow, the holster of his gun had slowed down the bullet and it hadn't fully penetrated his thigh. They would just have to pray for now. And accelerate even more. The car went past a familiar lone electric pole, signifying he only had about nine and a half miles to go. That should do it. Party just hoped they’d find gas in the days to come. Dead Pegasus, who technically went under with BL/Ind’s new tech, regularly scattered large gas cans to be found in the desert. Most of their bureaucrats were living in Batt City, though, which didn't leave them a lot of power to disclose where they gave away the gas. But everyone was grateful. It was a nice reminder that not everyone in Batt City had it out for them Desert Freaks. They were just people who had been trying to survive the Fires, after all. It wasn't their fault for not seeing the atrocities BL/Ind did behind closed doors. Them and their brother themselves would probably have joined their parents in Battery City if they hadn't been killed by exterminators. Or rather, Tech Enhanced Security, as they were called before. But now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

Now was the time to concentrate, and keep pressing the pedal. He saw the shack in the distance, and knew he had probably a mile or two to go. Closer, closer, steady, not too fast. He’d knock himself out if he went too fast. Closer, closer. They can now distinguish the garage, and the shape of the house. There’s even someone on the bench up front. Closer, closer, it’s Kobra. Thank God. No, fuck ! Party doesn't know which one would have been better to see first. Cola, who would berate him for his carelessness, or Kid, who’d get too worried ? 

But the internal debate quickly ended : Party Poison was finally home. They got out of the car, stumbling. The air was fresher than in Zone 2 and 3. 

“Hey Pois… Gee !!”

Jeez, was he in such a bad state that Kobra resorted to Before names ? Well, he wouldn't be the one to see it anyway. Managing to stumble a few steps closer into Mikey’s- wait, Kobra’s arms, Party Poison collapsed and passed out cold. 

______

When Party woke up, it took them a minute to understand where they were. The bed they were in wasn't theirs, yet it seemed familiar… It was dark around, the only weak yellowish light coming from the bedside table. They could still make out the green chipped paint of the walls otherwise covered in posters, which meant…Oh, right, it had to be Cherri Cola’s room. He had the only room at ground level, next to the living room-kitchen combination, while the brothers slept in the room that took up all the first floor. Poison had passed out, bleeding out and dehydrated, so carrying him to here was easier than up the stairs. He tried to move, but just felt heavy and numb. He found that his left leg, the injured one, was elevated by a pile of pillows. He tried to move it, but only managed to lift it a couple centimeters up, before it dropped, sending a sharp pain throughout his body. 

“Ouch !”, he cried out. Someone slammed the door open. 

“Pois ! Fuck man, you’re awake!” 

It was Jet Star. Of course it was Jet Star. He was the one with the most medical training after all. He looked a bit tired, his long curls held up in a ponytail on its way to get undone. 

“Hi, Jet.”,Party greeted from his bed. 

“Hi Pois” , Jet smiled, bittersweetly. “That was a real number you did out there, huh?” 

Party smiled from their lying position. They felt a bit stupid, being confronted with the consequences of their cockiness. If he hadn't been overconfident earlier (Yesterday?Was it the evening? The middle of night ? The early hours of the next day ?), the others wouldn't have had to hurry and help him. Good thing he had been on a mission to bring medical supplies, huh ? 

“Uh yeah, sorry. Got too careless. How long was I out?” 

“About ten hours. The clock in here is off, but I have to guess it’s around 3 am.” Jet answered, his voice betraying the fact he was tired. 

“And you’re still up ? Go home, Star. Get some rest. I’ll manage.” Jet smiled in response. It was melancholic, almost a little sad. 

“You know I can't. How could I sleep knowing a part of me is in pain ? I’m the medic. I can't leave you in pain. Any of you.” 

Party knew Jet wasn't going to let go. He was stubborn when it came to health and care. But so were they. They couldn't just rest knowing Jet wasn't getting a good night’s sleep as well. 

“C’mere, Jet”, Party patted the bed beside him. “Cherri's got one of the last king size beds ever I think, let's take advantage.” 

“Ghoul’s got a queen at Dr D’s from what I heard.”

“Motherfucker.”Party fake muttered. Jet laughed and went to sit next to him in the bed. It helped that Party had been laid on the right side of the bed, because, had they been laid on the middle, they probably wouldn't have been able to move for Star. The latter went onto the bed, and sat besides Party, not getting under the covers yet. 

“It’s a good thing you didn't touch the bullet. It didn't go all the way inside, I managed to take it out quite easily. I guess you’ll need crutches for a while, but if we’re smart about it, you won't be limping in the long term.” 

“Thank you, Dr Star”, smiled Poison. “How do you know so much anyway?” 

“That’s a secret.”He winked. “Related to Before.” 

Party made a joke about him being a sexy nurse before, which earned him an good fit of laughter from Jet. His caretaker finally slipped under the covers, lying down next to him. The two young adults chatted for a while, Poison shared his earlier discoveries, and slowly, they drifted into sleep.

“Pois. Wake up.” 

Poison was ripped off from his slumber by the firm voice of his younger brother. The Kid was standing over him, his face shadowed by the light coming from behind him. He hummed, not wanting to fully awaken yet. Kobra repeated, still as sternly.

“Pois. Wake. Up.” 

“Gimme…a minute…” 

He turned around but a sudden wave of pain spread throughout his leg and body. Right. His leg. Well, at least Party was fully awake now. 

“Fuuuuck”, he moaned in pain. 

Kobra sighed, and went to help them from a lying to a sitting position. Here they were now, back against the headboard, left leg still held up. 

“ The others are here. We're getting breakfast.” 

And Kobra left. Party felt bitter at the thought of his friends enjoying a breakfast together while he was bedridden. He sulked, even more annoyed by the extending pit forming in his stomach. How he hated being incapacitated like that…. Even drunk, or hungover, he still had more motion than this. Party relied on the help of their friends, of course, but now ? They were dependent. And the Witch knew how much they hated that. 

“Pois !!! You motherfucker !” 

Poison raised his eyes just in time to see Kobra grabbing Merry Mayhem by the hem of her shirt in order to retain her. In the doorframe, he saw Fun Ghoul and Jet were also here, carrying trays of food.

“Merry !”barked Jet.”Dont you fucking dare jump on that bed.” 

He settled a tray in Party’s laps, and Fun Ghoul put the other on the bedside table beside him. As their gaze briefly met, Ghoul gave him a weak but encouraging smile. He was happy to see all of them here. 

As Merry climbed in the bed to sit crossed legged beside Party, Kobra went and came back with stools for himself and the other boys. Ghoul grabbed the bowls of cereals on the tray next to Poison, and passed them around. 

“So….” 

Poison didn't know how to answer Merry's half question. They thought about it for a moment, before settling on declaring they had been caught in the heat of the moment. 

“More like caught in your ego…”

“Everyone heard you Kobes. You’re very bad at whispering.”

“Well sometimes being bad at things is good. For instance, I'm very bad at getting shot .” 

Party rolled his eyes but smiled. The breakfast continued light-heartedly. Party gave their story, and Jet the medical insight. He explained how recovery would take place and how long it would take. The Killjoys would have to find or make crutches for Poison, and antibiotics would be nice in case of an infection.

“My, my, so you almost left us for the Witch yesterday?” 

Merry was laughing, but Kobra shot her a dirty look. He took matters about the Witch more seriously than any of them, it seemed.

The Phoenix Witch was… something. Someone. A few a

had seen her, but everyone agreed on her existence, somehow. Maybe the thought of a special afterlife for Desert Freaks to rest together was comforting. Karl Marx did say religion is the opium of the masses, after all. Having a common culture, and furthermore, something to believe in kept all of them a little more grounded, probably. A society without rules, hierarchy or capitalism. Just utility, a made-up rebel folklore and camaraderie. Marx would be proud. Maybe. Party had actually never given Marx much thought. 

“I met the Witch once”, blurted out Fun Ghoul. 

Everyone violently turned their heads towards him. Kobra even let out a shocked “WHAT ?” at his declaration. They all knew some people had met the Witch yes, but none of them had actually met someone who did. The declaration was also a reminder that they ignored many things about their dear Ghoulie. 

“Yeah… huuuh…” he stuttered, “It was like, six months after The Fires. I had a friend, my old neighbor, she was a couple years older and we stayed together. I don't know why BL/ind was so violent in our city. But we were at school when the evacuation happened and they didn't want to make us join our families. She was a senior and I was a freshman. She found me, I don't know why me, we weren't that close, and she told me we had to go. And so we left.” 

Everyone held their breath, waiting for Ghoul to continue. This was the first time he spoke that much of his past. 

“ I was so confused, I didn't know what was happening, why we had to leave, but as we ran toward our houses, I saw it. A Tech Enhanced Security Officer, killing the owner of our local deli. And I asked her “Why ?”. She said she didn't know, but we didn't need more to keep running. So we ran. We took some stuff and ran away. Hid in an already abandoned building during the evacuation, and moved once the city was deserted because BL/Ind came back to light it on fire. 

Then we got on the road. By now it had been three months since the evacuation. The first gangs had been created. We didn't want to join any, though. Didn't know who to trust, you know? (They all knew very well.) It was all too disorienting. Had a couple run-ins with BL/Ind’s minions. She had stolen her dad’s gun and ammo when we left. We got by. And one night….” 

Party could see Fun’s eyes starting to water. He looked so young, so vulnerable. Did he look that way, at fifteen, fleeing the city ? Choking back the tears, he held on to his story. 

“ We were exhausted. Hadn't eaten in a day. She might have been on her period, I dunno. But she was weaker than me. It didn't help that she always got me the biggest half of things. Always said things like you’re a growing boy, you need the calories. I’m an adult, I'm already developed, I’ll manage. Some bullshit. I wanted to be on guard that night but she said no. She was really insistent. I was exhausted, so I went to sleep. I shouldn't have. I woke up to a gunshot, and her screaming. She was a dozen feet away from me , on the ground. A drac had… he had… her throat…”

Fun Ghoul was full on sobbing now. He hadn't finished his last sentence, but Party had the vision very clearly in mind. A blood soaked drac, standing next to a teenager their age with her throat slit. In their vision, the girl looked eerily like Merry Mayhem. Party couldn't imagine losing her. They were the same age, but somehow, she was their caretaker. Not like Cherri, but she was the glue that kept all of their explosive personalities together. She kept them in check. She had a vision for the future she wanted. Maybe having a daughter gave her motivation to achieve said vision. 

Jet moved his chair closer to Ghoul’s and wrapped a comforting arm around him. He wished he could have done that. Being the one with his arm around Fun Ghoul, being the one to hold him close. Poison felt a wave of disgust at themselves. Fun was pouring his poor heart out, and here they were, their selfish desires for proximity overriding the reassurance of seeing him being cared for, even by another. Ghoul continued to sob for a bit, before calming down and wiping his tears and snot on his t-shirt. 

“She…. the bastard had slit her throat. I only realized later that she had shot him beforehand. He had let go of his own gun—no ray guns yet— but took her by surprise with a knife. She had seen him and went to attack before he got to me. She saved me. I don't know why she kept on saving me. But she did. And she died doing it. At that moment I– I saw red. I lunged at him. He hadn't seen me I think. It was sorta dark . I didn't even grab a gun, I just grabbed and punched and punched and… (He took a deep breath) And … my hand touched his knife. So I caught it and hit him with it. It scared me, how violent I could get. But I did it anyway. And he screamed, but I kept on, and he stopped screaming, but I kept stabbing. I don't know how long– too long, probably. When I eventually stopped, I went to her and cried. I held her in my arms, and I cried harder than ever. The sun came up at some point. I stopped crying. And when I looked up, she was here. The Phoenix Witch.” 

Party’s heart skipped a beat. The world might have stopped for a second.

“I don't remember her face, but I remember that she looked as old as the world. She looked like she could never die. She looked like the world itself. She got on her knees, right in front of me, and told me she’d take Sally with her. She knew her name somehow. She gave me a wet cloth to wipe myself with, but I wiped Sally with it. I wanted her to look peaceful. She did. And then the Witch took her. Held her in her arms. That old lady held her without breaking a sweat. She turned to me and said : “Word of the Phoenix Witch, you are a child of the desert now. Find a name and you'll find a family. Find your path and they'll bow to you.” Then I blinked and they were both gone.”

“Wow.” Let out Kobra. His eyes were full of emotions. He might have been about to cry as well. 

“ I was so mad at myself. Obviously I had never heard of the Witch before. I didn't know why I let her go with Sally’s body like that. Didn't know why she wanted me to find a new name and a family. Thought it was stupid. So I kept to myself, didn't find a name, and went on . It was really shitty. I was doing really shitty honestly. I don't know what kept me going. But somehow, I made it on my own for more than a year. Then I met Show Pony. They were alone and they found me in a gas station. Asked my name and I made up Fun Ghoul on the spot. And then, they took me to Dr D’s place. And well, you know the rest.”

“So the Witch was right .” Half whispered Jet, his voice soft. “ You found a desert name and then came the family. You just had to accept that new start.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to Ghoul’s temple. 

“I never thought of it that way. Thank you, Star. And sorry, everyone. I hope I didn't overshare.” 

“Huh?!” Merry looked shaken. “Overshare ? Boy, I think we’re all happy that you open up ! Not that you had to. It’s just…nice to know more about you, you know ?” 

Fun gave her a weak smile, nodding. They kept eating their cereals, the tinting of the spoons against the bowls or mugs breaking the silence they had fallen into. The room was filled with emotion, but it wasn't awkward. Party suddenly felt a little bit closer to everyone. 

After a while, they moved to the living room. Jet and Merry had made a sort of wheelchair for Poison— a rolling desk chair connected to a mounted pillow to rest his leg on. It felt nice; being cared for. Knowing he didn't have to be completely dependent, but still rely on them . Knowing they cared and would attend to their needs. Knowing all of them would be here for each other.They sat around the old dining table, Merry dropping a big cardboard box on it. 

“We’re getting political !” She declared, as if all of their lifestyle wasn't already political enough. And that was without mentioning the band, the songs and the fights against exterminators. “Party, you're not the first to discover their building site. They're planning something. We need to be ready for anything.” 

“And we ready ourselves by…(Kobra leaned over the box) doing arts and crafts ?” 

“I talked with some people at the last show. We agreed on a tactical alliance. We share tips, discoveries, and stuff directly with each other. It’s like business partners. They’re the first we gotta tell. I roped the Circus and the Circus in. Thought something to show a united front before BL/Ind might help, you know? Our skills speak for themselves, obviously but it's like… symbolic or some shit like that. We settled on masks. Cool masks, masquerade style and all that.” 

“Aren’t the Circus leaving? Trying to cross the Crimson Sea or something?” 

Party Poison realized he had missed a lot during that damned party. Why did Jet keep up with The Circus anyway ? And why would they try to cross the Crimson Sea? Nobody who tried to join the Mainland made it back. They were all stuck in California Island forever, they knew that since 2012. 

“They already left”, explained Ghoul. Of course Ghoul would know. Party had to refrain themselves from rolling their eyes. Wouldn't be nice to do to his friends, who has just confessed his past and apparently got separated from his boyfriend. “I mean, like half of them. Viper and some of them are trying to join the Mainland, and others are investigating the building site.” 

While talking about the building site and other gangs’ activities, they got around to the “arts and crafts”, which was pretty fun. Party listened in on Kobra and Ghoul’s conversation about Viper while painting a mask yellow. Apparently they had broken things off just in case. He felt bad that the information felt good. Couldn't he stop being a jealous asshole when the dude’s life was on the line ? Even if said dude was his annoyingly perfect love rival. Wait. Wait, wait, wait. 

Love rival ???!!!! They mentally slapped themselves. Now wasn't the time for yearning. Party Poison swore that once they got back on their feet, they’d run in the arms of the nearest cool-looking person and make out with them until they forgot Fun Ghoul existed. They had to get over that stupid crush, it was getting ridiculous. Even more ridiculous knowing that his own behavior had driven said crush away from him straight (...) into the arms of another man.

Love, gimme love, gimme love

I don't need it, but I'll take what I want from your heart

Party snapped his head up, almost knocking out the glitter paint. From the opposite side of the table, Jet was humming their song with a clueless look he knew was fake. That fucker could read him like an open book. He had the opportunity to smile at Poison when he reached for the blue paint. 

Gimme more, gimme more, gimme more

Shut up and sing it with me

Jet Star was an asshole who knew the perfect way to rile them up. But Party Poison still sang with him. 

Chapter Text

Merry Mayhem let the elastic go, letting the purple masquerade mask snap back on her face. She wrapped her hands around Kobra Kid’s waist and he started his bike. It was a sweet, red bike that he had managed to buy by himself two weeks ago. “It’s like a birthday gift to myself, really late or really early.”, he’d said with his usual deadpan expression. 

Halloween was coming around, and despite the festive ambiance, there were certain masks nobody liked to see in the desert. And they were increasing in numbers, even in the furthest Zones. Jet-Star and Merry had had to move into Dr Death-Defying’s place mid September, the old motel they lived in having been burned to the ground. She hated having to move. The motel was nice. She had her room, Jet next to her, and her daughter’s dad lived two floors down. It was really practical for their custody arrangement. Now, he was living in a ghost town they had visited recently in Zone 5, and she’d spend the night at his place here and there, not wanting to burden Dr D with an additional tenant, who in addition to that still wet her diapers and sometimes cried at night. The joys of motherhood. 

She looked around, squinting, the wind hitting her face due to the lack of a helmet. Around them, only the desert. That hot, damned desert. October was the calm before the storm. In November, acid rain started pouring every three days and the temperatures suddenly dropped. Merry didn't know what day it was exactly. It was hard to keep up with dates in the Zones. The fact that Desert Freaks still held on to the calendar was due to their dependance of Battery City’s goods. Insiders who gave them food also gave them the calendar marks. Some people, more mature people, like Cherri Cola or Dr Death Defying himself, kept their own calendar, but even they got lost sometimes. The Insiders helped get everyone back on the same wavelength. 

“Remind me why we're meeting out for ?” 

She had to raise her voice a little to be heard by Kobra over the wind and the motor. 

“Remind me why you're the leader again ?”

“Cut that attitude out, young man!”, she laughed. “Obviously it's because I have the best Brains-Beauty-Strength ratio out of all the group ! And because I'm the only girl, so feminism !”

Kobra grunted. “Party can be a girl sometimes.”

“Well that’s like a part time job for them. It’s a life career for me, what do you want me to say?” 

Kobra said he saw her more as a pain in the ass than a girl, which was rude, and then explained their mission again, which was less rude. The two of them were supposed to meet with people from the Runners, and retrieve the ray gun they had for Fun Ghoul. She knew that.They intended to give it to him for his birthday, which was about a week away. This ray gun had cost Merry a shitload of carbons, but she knew that Fun Ghoul deserved it wholly. She relaxed a bit against the Kid’s back, now a bit acclimated to the speed and wind. 

Also, the Runners had apparently specifically asked for a meeting outside, rather than in one of the gang's bases—that was what Merry had been confused about. 

Riding on a bike felt different than being in a car. Her daughter's father had a bike Before, and she had ridden on it back when they were together, but this was different. Here, there were no tar roads, just dust melting into the horizon. No helmets either, so she felt all the speed. It kind of felt like flying. She wondered if Kobra had a bike Before or if he had learned in the Desert. After all, he must have been what, fourteen ? at the time of the Fires. 

“Where did you learn how to ride, Kobes ? Did Party teach you? ” 

He slowed down and stopped the motorbike. They had arrived. 

“Not him for sure, he’s a shit teacher. Viper taught me during the summer before he went. Ghoulie’s boyfriend. Or, like, ex-boyfriend now, I don't know.” Merry whistled. 

“So you hung out with Ghoul’s boyfriend, he taught you how to ride a bike, and Pois didn't rip both your throats out ?” 

Kobra shrugged. “I told them one day, they stared at me and went back to drawing.” 

“You know Party has trouble speaking their mind sometimes.They were probably mad as hell.” 

“Merry, I'm his brother. As in, came-out-of-the-same pussy type of brothers. I’ve always known he’s a little shit. He knows I don't wait for him to speak his mind. If he doesn't say it, I ignore it. Even if it’s painfully obvious what he’s feeling.I don't care if they’re pissed off over Ghoul’s two months long relationship.” 

Merry dwelled on it as she got off the motorcycle, not sure if it was kind of insane or totally sensible. She looked around and saw a familiar car approaching: The Runners. Their leader, a young adult named Forest Dock, greeted the two Killjoys. Merry ran into their arms. Her, Jet and Forest had traveled together a few weeks at the beginning, before going their own way. 

“Forest !!! Where were you at the party in Zone 5 !!” 

How she had missed her friend. Forest gave her a genuine smile, flashing all their teeth as always, and fidgeting with their long brown braid. 

“Actually, I was on a mission. I had a deal with an Insider and had to gather the carbons. But it helped me get all your goods.”, they winked. 

It wasn't that Merry couldn't have gone to an Insider herself to get Fun Ghoul his gun. It’s just that all the Desert knew going through Forest Dock guaranteed better quality products and faster shipping, as they were totally sleeping with an Insider. Not that they’d ever admit it. 

One of the Runners—whom Merry had forgotten the name of, sorry!— tossed the gun to Kobra, who caught it easily. It was metallic and grey, still bare from any paint. Fun Ghoul would get a brand new ray gun, one who hadn't been used by exterminators before. Lucky him. (And that was why they went through Forest for that type of thing !) 

“Well, thank you guys. How much do we owe you?”, asked Merry while collecting the bag of other goods Forest gave her.

“Actually, May’, I think you should follow us back to our base. There was a reason we wanted to meet on neutral grounds, but now...We kind of need to show you some things.” 

The sudden seriousness in Dock’s voice made Merry Mayhem take a step back. She looked up to meet Forest Dock’s eyes. Their gaze was filled with intent and a sense of urgency. Her guts told her that this was important. 

“Okay, we'll follow you. Kid, get back on your bike."

______

“Well, it looks like shit’s hitting the fan.” 

Beautiful understatement from Jet-Star. Sometimes Merry resented her cousin. She hated how calm and collected he always seemed. Always too… perfect. Sometimes she preferred how he was Before, a little more careless and selfish. And then she felt selfish. Whatever. Right now, she had more important matters at hand than figuring out her family dynamics. 

Right now, they had a mega-corporation-turned-government after them. Them, as in the Killjoys. BL/Ind obviously hated all things desert related, but now they were after the Killjoys specifically. 

“It’s the music, I think. And our union.”, had explained Forest Dock the other day. “They seem to think you’re growing in power and influence, like you’re leading the Desert. They might be scared you will try something against them.”

Which was completely stupid. As motivated as they were, the Killjoys and all of the Desert Freaks knew they’d never have the manpower to take down BL/Ind. It was too much risk, too much potential lives lost, for what ? Thousands of disoriented people who’d be stripped of their lives and homes for the second time in two years. 

Yeah, everyone wanted BL/Ind gone, but nobody in all the six damn Zones had a plan, so it wasn't close to ever happening. 

“I think shit’s not just hitting the fan, but breaking the roof, Jet.” squeaked Fun Ghoul, sounding a little panicked. “Like, they don't just want to release hell on the Desert. They want us gone. Specifically us. That’s kinda fucked up.” 

“Well, we all know this is not their first time doing "fucked up"”, replied Party Poison. Their tone wasn't exactly comforting, it sounded more bitter. Not towards Ghoul, though. “ I mean– you know how Kobra and I… or you…I mean, yeah. They keep doing fucked up shit.”

“Maybe we should just hit them up the diplomatic way.”, deadpanned Kobra Kid. “I could go up to them, say: Hey guys, it’s kinda fucked you want to declare war against us, look at me I'm just sixteen I know fuck all about overthrowing a city-state and that’d be it.” 

“Yeah, and you forgot the part where they’d either shoot you on sight or do that weird brainwashing thing on you!!” 

Kobra rolled his eyes at his brother and paced around the room. They were in the brother's room, Merry on Party Poison’s bed, lying on his laps, Jet-Star seated in a crossed legged position on Kobra Kid’s bed, and Fun Ghoul on the floor, his knees brought up to his chest, leaning against the feet of Kobra's bed.

Merry thought of her baby. Her sweet little girl, almost two years old. She’d fight a war for her, she was sure of it. But could she make it through?

They didn't know what an all-out war against BL/Ind would include. Waterfalls of exterminators? Bombs ? Fires (somehow, she was sure they were responsible for the Fires.) ? How would they even retaliate ? Keep on killing dracs, with no real way to damage BL/Ind without killing innocents in the process ?

“We have got to blow this fucking city up.” 

She looked up to watch Party’s face from below. Their eyes were dark, with a seriousness that was unfamiliar on their face. She didn't agree. 

“We can't. Too many people. And what are we supposed to do after ? Are you ready to be President or some shit ?”

“There are adults in the Desert! Like Dr D or Cherri—” Merry sat up. 

“Do you honestly hear yourself, Party?”, she interrupted. “We’re not fit to run a country. Just because they’re a bit older doesn't mean they are either. We’re not ready to overthrow BL/Ind.” 

They shut up. Merry had won that round. But she couldn't just do that against BL/Ind. Arguing didn't lead them further. Arguing didn't help them prepare. 

“If they think we’re leaders of the Desert, then we’re going to do exactly that.”, she shot out. “I mean, it's for the greater good, no ? We focus their attention on us. And maybe that way the others can accomplish other things. Like Ghoul’s boyfriend and his expedition to the Sea.” 

She heard Fun Ghoul mumbling something about Viper not being his boyfriend anymore, his voice muffled by the fact that his head was in his knees. 

Mayhem looked at the others. They were thinking about what she said. She continued. 

“I don't like the idea of leading the Desert. We’re not even the first gang, or the most influential one. But we’re popular. We’re like, the faces, you know ? We could be propaganda. A weird, self-aware bait propaganda.” 

“We need to find the Witch…” whispered Kobra Kid. 

Party looked at Kobra. Kobra looked back, and Merry watched the brothers exchange a look she couldn't translate. She hated when they did that, but she also did it with Jet sometimes, so she kept her mouth shut. Somehow, Kobra’s suggestions felt like the right thing to do. The Kid had always had a sort of foresight, an instinct to do things nobody had thought of. She hoped his instinct would be right once again. 

At that moment, she felt more lost than ever. Even during the Evacuation, she had managed to keep her head high, despite her unplanned pregnancy and the shit state of the world. But back then, she only had Jet (And Forest, for a while), to lead. Now, she had more family. She had a daughter. She had a team to lead. To command. Merry wasn't sure how far she’d be able to lead them. The others were still silent. She grew more annoyed as silent minutes went past. 

“Guys ? Not too like, alarm you or something, but BL/Ind wants us dead. I think that ought to stir a little more reaction. A couple suggestions, maybe ?” 

“Merry, you need to rest. You're losing yourself in your thoughts. We’ll think about your idea, okay? I think it's a lot to take in, for all of us.” 

Merry was startled by Jet’s hand, suddenly gripping her shoulder. She had been spiralling in her thoughts, without even realizing. But she didn't need her cousin’s I’m-perfect-and-rational number right now. She shook his hand off, and got up on her feet. 

“I don't need rest. Fuck, I need ideas ! I need a plan !” 

“You really need to slow down with all this. You should go be with your kid for a couple days. If it's that bad, you need a vacation before shit goes down. ”

“Jet, I don't need rest, and I especially don't need your fucking pity !”, she snapped. It felt good. It felt terrible. She knew she'd regret it, but continued her angry rant. “You don't understand. None of you understand, okay ? You don't know what it’s like, being a leader, being a mom, and being a friend all at once. You can't – I’m in a delicate position. I can't fail. I can't let you down. I can't let her down, Jet. I have to fight. I have to make a plan. We can't wait for BL/Ind to sneak up on us. You want everyone to end up like Ghoulie's friend ? Throat slashed, bleeding out on the sand ? Not me ! I have to make a world she can grow up in.” 

“Okay, that’s too far Merry. Are you out of your mind ? What do you think will happen if you throw yourself at them ?”Finally, fucking finally, Jet Star lost his cool.) If you keep fighting, who’s going to take care of her? What if you DIE, MERRY?” 

“I DON'T FUCKING CARE, RAY ! I don't care, I’ll die if I have to. I said it over and over again and I meant it ! I’ll live, I’ll fight and I’ll kill as a Killjoy. And I’ll die as one too. I’d kill myself if it meant guaranteeing her a future. But you wouldn't get it, right ? You always want to save everyone. Party’s idea’s fucking stupid, but at least they have guts. I guess you wouldn't know about that. ” 

Jet looked like she had just kicked him in the stomach.(She wished she did) He grabbed her wrist, but she slapped his hand away. He went for her shoulder, but she stepped aside and swung. The sound her knuckles made against his jaw was disgusting.No time to apologize, though. He stumbled back, and stared at her, stroking his jaw. Party bolted up, ready to intervene. But she was done. Merry headed for the door. Right before she slammed it, Jet called out. 

“If you’d just fucking ask, we’d help you, Chris. You know we would. You’re just too fucking stubborn.” 

And as the slamming of the door echoed, she realized they had resorted to old names. 

The worst thing was, Jet Star was right. She was too fucking stubborn. She struggled to relegate tasks on mission. She hated not overseeing everything. She hated not having control. Could she blame them for being lost the second she suddenly asked for suggestions ? The others came with parts of the plans, but never the main ideas and organisation. That was her job.

She turned the keys, turning the car on. Here, she had all the control she wanted. Merry Mayhem drove as fast as she could. Jet and Ghoul could ask the others for a ride back home.

Mayhem looked at the house with dread. She had blacked out while driving, and came to her senses in Zone 5, right where her daughter and her dad were staying. Jet’s words came back to her, but she didn't want to admit he was right. She didn't want to admit she did need rest, and quality time with her daughter. 

She knocked on the door. Her ex opened, a picture book in hand. He obviously didn't expect her to be here now. 

“Hey May. Thought you weren't coming until tomorrow. I was about to put her to sleep.”

“Yeah, m’sorry. Can I crash here tonight?” 

He let her in. Of course he did. Despite everything, they still loved each other. Not as lovers, but as friends, and parents of a child. She was glad they had stayed close even after she came out. Her daughter's dad has stayed with her as soon as they reunited, even after they broke up, supporting her during the pregnancy. 

He went into another room to put their daughter to bed, but Merry stayed in the living room. She didn't want her daughter to see her in that state. The house was nice, despite the fact that the second floor was totally destroyed. He still had a room for their baby, and a big living room for him. 

After ten minutes, he came back, and offered her a drink. She took it. They got to talking, and she eventually explained her sudden burst of anger against the Killjoys. 

“I knew I’d regret my words, but I wanted it to hurt, I think. Sometimes I feel like they’re just waiting around for me to figure everything out. They think of the Killjoys as the band first, rather than the gang. But now, we need the gang more.”

“But you're both. You're a band as much as you are a gang. And you even told me, you suggested using that fact. So why are you mad ?”

“I…I,” she stuttered, “I actually don't know. They told me they wanted to think and I took it as a personal attack just because they weren't ready for action.”

“So you lashed out, even though you weren't even arguing?” 

Merry buried her face in her hands. He was right. She had snapped for no reason, and went on a weird ego trip just to shut the others up. 

“What should I do?” 

He patted her back but didn't answer.She couldn't hold it against him. That was her mess to clean up. She let a couple of tears wet her hands and face, before sniffing and wiping the salty water away. 

“I should let them think. Jet was right, fuck. Think I can stay a couple days?”

“Merry, you know you’re always welcome to stay. She’s going to be so happy you’re here.” 

Merry was happy to be here as well. She was happy she got to raise her daughter despite the situation. Maybe it was even more ideal than being a young mother in the Before world. They both would have struggled with college, the cost of life, and society’s judgement. Maybe the pressure of an accidental pregnancy would even have prevented her from coming out and living freely. Raising and attending to a baby(now a toddler!)’s needs were hard in the Zones, but the joy of parenthood was worth it. 

“She begs for me to play guitar everyday, you know? I’m not as great as Jet, but he was a good teacher. I can even play a few of your songs. Or close enough”, he chuckled. 

“Really? You play her our songs?” 

“Yeah. You’re great, you know. You give the Zones hope. We’ve all got ray guns and stuff, but so do they in Batt City. But this… this is our weapon.” 

Mayhem thought about it. Her daughter, begging her dad to hear one of mommy’s songs. She could hear her voice and visualize her pout when she wanted more. She imagined her daughter again, a little older, coming to one of their shows. She'd probably be on her dad’s shoulder's probably, and they’d both cheer her on. It’d be the pinnacle of happiness. Maybe she’d even ask to learn an instrument, some day. 

“Can you…get your guitar out? I think we should write her a song.” 

His eyes lit up. “Yeah, sure. She’ll love it.” 

Merry cleared the table, and found a couple of rusty pots to tap on. He came back with his guitar in hand, a pink acoustic guitar they had found at the motel, and a notebook. “For the lyrics”, he had said. 

She took the notebook, ripped out a page and wrote at the top : For Grace. 

If there's a place that I could be

Then I'd be another memory

Can I be the only hope for you?

Because you're the only hope for me

They spent a good part of the night writing this song. The lyrics ended up being pretty depressing. Merry wrote like she was already dead, or at least that's what he had said. She didn't intend to die. She just had to get those feelings out. The war was imminent, and Mayhem knew she’d be on the frontlines. 

“If something happens to me, she’ll know how I felt, you know?” 

“Don't say that, Chris.” 

The use of her Old name made her bite her lip. He was serious. But so was she. The rise in frequency of exterminators and draculoids, the mysterious building sites, the common urgency to find a way to leave the Island…. It was serious. People would die. Obviously, not everyone could make it, especially on the Desert’s side. They were mostly teenagers, a bit malnourished, with a weak union and limited resources. Obviously some of them weren't going to make it.

“You know it's true, John.” 

She doesn't like saying his name. Like she avoided saying Grace's. Grace would choose a desert name on her own terms, and she didn't know John desert’s name. It’d feel weird to ask that now. Together, they were still just John and Chris. Christina and Johnathan. She had fully embraced the Desert life, but Merry just couldn't assimilate John to it. Maybe she needed to cling to something familiar. A sort of structure of sorts. From Before. What’s better than your ex-boyfriend and the patriarchal implications of maintaining the nuclear family structure to do that ? 

And if we can't find where we belong

We'll have to make it on our own

Face all the pain and take it on

Because the only hope for me is you alone

He fiddled with his guitar, trying to translate the melody they came up with on the strings. Merry hummed along to guide him. This was nice. 

“Are you going to present it to the Killjoys?”

“I don't think so. It can be just for us. Us three. For the moment, at least.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that's nice. A song just for us. Our weird little family.” 

What a weird family indeed. Broken up parents, a sort of stay-at-home dad (well, it's not like they were a lot of companies recruiting), a lesbian gang leader mom, and a post apocalyptic baby that liked music. Probably because of her numerous weird uncles. 

I say it's okay

I know you can tell

And though you can see me smile

I still

Think of the guns they sell

The love Merry feels is mixed in with the dread of the upcoming war. Despite everything, it’s not leaving her, and it’s haunting the lyrics of the song. She still finds it perfect, though. Love is war, after all. And she’ll put all of hers into this fight. 

Still, she needs some air. John offered a cigarette, but she declined. She had stopped during her pregnancy, never picked the habit back up, and didn't intend to now.

As she stepped outside in the cold desert night, she found herself missing the warmth inside. Not just any warmth, but the one she felt with her friends by her side. She had fucked up badly. 

Merry started pacing in the street. This ghost town was really well preserved. It felt weird, walking somewhere that was so close to Before. The buildings, the shops along the roads… And yet, everything was dead like it never could have been Before. The stillness, emptiness and silence of the street echoed in her head like a reminder. Life will never be the same. Merry can't choose if the thought is comforting or filling her with dread. 

She kept on walking, all the way through the long avenue John lived in. She found an old café, and entered. Holy shit. The café had lost a wall, making it merge with… a music store. Now, that’d get her back in her friend's good graces. If there was anything interesting to scavenge.

Merry walked to the tore down wall, stepped over the debris, and revelled in the treasure she had found. It seemed almost intact. People in ghost towns looked more for necessities and shelter, often forgetting about the mundanities and hobby related finds you could look for. 

It was darker inside. Mayhem looked around for a light switch, trying to not trip over anything. She finally found one, but as she patted her pockets for carbons, she realized she had none. 

“Shit.”, she swore. She tried flickering the light switch on and off in the classic way, and after a couple second and what might have been a minor electrocution, the bulbs finally lit the store. 

She found a CD player, and had to resist the urge to squeal. Kobra had been looking for one that worked for almost a year now. He’d be so happy. She loved that kid. 

For Fun Ghoul, she looked through the little section with band tees, and found a Misfits T-shirt she knew he’d wear until holed up. She wondered how the band was doing. How was everyone in the Mainland? Was New Jersey still a thing? Was the US ? 

She took a matching shirt for Party Poison (oh she’d love to see their face when the two of them would match !), but afterwards found an additional item she knew he’d like. It was a special notebook to write partitions in. The cover was a bright, glittery pink. 

As for Jet-Star…. She thought of getting him guitar strips, but she also took some for the others. She needed something else, a little more personal, unique to him. Cables ? Strings ? No, the same as the straps. An amp ? Theirs were working well, and those in the shop were too heavy for her to carry on top of all she had anyway. She paced around the aisle of the store. It was pretty large, with a large collection of instruments and accessories. Mayhem did a few more turns around the store before accepting the fact that she couldn't find anything for her cousin. She’d have to be creative otherwise. He was the one who deserved an apology gift the most, in her opinion. 

The only hope for me

The only hope for me is you

Maybe she'd show the song to Jet. He was her family, after all. And he had always pushed her to try and write music. He’d be happy she did, right? Especially a song about his cherished niece. 

Content with her idea, she left the store, carrying full shopping bags. As she left the building, the light flickered, and turned off eventually. 

She'd return home tomorrow. She'd fix things, and they'd be as close knit as ever. A family.

______

When the rays of the sun hit her face, Merry had only slept a few hours. She and John had spent a lot of time writing that song, and her nightly “shopping” escapade had taken a while as well. She loaded the Motorbomb with the stuff she gathered (Mayhem could already see her bandmates’ delighted faces) and went to wake Grace up. 

John had agreed for her to take the kid for a few days. It had been a while since she had seen the Killjoys, after all. After the old motel burned, Grace had lived full-time with her father. But now, she’d be with Merry and the boys for a week !! Mayhem was delighted. She buckled the baby seat (Thank the Witch for that find!) and thanked John before getting in the driver's seat. He knocked on the window. She rolled it down. 

“Be easier on yourself. And on them. You're an amazing leader Chris, but they’re not in your head. Sometimes you could be… clearer.”

She smiled back. “I know. Take care, okay ? Thank you for letting me crash here.”

“No problem,” he said, waving. “Tell Grace I love her every night.” 

Merry waved back, and nodded as a promise. Grace, in the passenger seat, waved as well, with both hands

“Hello baby, I thought you fell asleep again.” 

“Goodbye Daddy !!”, she babbled. “We will make lots of music !!” 

“Sure you will, baby”, smiled John, as Merry started the car. 

The drive back was peaceful. Nothing like the one last night. Now, she was coming back with a heavy trunk and a light heart, as well as her favorite person by her side. 

Grace asked to listen to the radio, and Merry obviously obliged. She turned on Dr Death’s frequency. Considering the time, she expected music, but what she didn't expect was a very familiar voice echoing in the car. 

Ladies and gentlemen, truth is now acceptable

Fame is now injectable, process the progress

“That's Mommy’s music !! You’re on the radio !!” 

Somehow, Merry hadn't processed the fact that they had recorded songs. Two of them. They had them on cassettes, and thus Dr D played them on the radio sometimes. 

She thought about it. It made sense BL/Ind was after them. They were the faces of the emerging Desert Culture after all. It made sense the others were terrified. She was too, honestly. She tapped the steering wheel with the tips of her fingers along the rhythm. She liked that version, with Ghoul’s additional guitar. With him in the band, they had finally decided to gather the carbons necessary and record the song. It had been tricky and pricey, but worth it. It had encouraged more people to join their alliance, and come to their concerts. Okay,it was totally logical that BL/Ind felt threatened. 

“Mommy, what's that?” 

Merry’s eyes followed Grace's chubby finger to where it pointed at. Right in front of them, a mere couple feet ahead, was a person. Standing here, in the middle of fucking nowhere, alone ? And getting right in front of the car ?! 

Merry hit the brakes hard. She expanded her left arm to cover her daughter's chest. The stop was a bit rough, but they didn't run over the person. Were they crazy, or in danger ? In any way, this wasn't safe. Merry ran out of the car to the pedestrian. 

“Hey, are you okay ? What was that ?!” 

She stopped in her tracks. Before her was someone covered in a feather blanket, and with a mask in a material she couldn't identify. The person (was it?) was short, like her, and even frailer. Yet, Merry felt the wind being knocked out of her pipes. Somehow she knew that what stood before her was none other than the Phoenix Witch. 

As if she had heard her thoughts, the Witch started speaking. Merry Mayhem listened carefully, still frozen in place. 

“Your friends carry their blessings, young girl. But you, you have passed it down. The sun still feeds you, but for your daughter's good, give this all your love and she’ll carry it for life.” 

Mayhem felt her hand move and extend before her. The Witch dropped a weird green stone in it. It was oval, about two inches long, and looked like jade. 

“This is your blessing. Your legacy. This is the Desert’s salvation.” 

The Witch turned away and started walking. Merry remained frozen for a few seconds. She blinked, and wiped her eyes in disbelief. When she opened them, the Witch was gone. The stone, however, remained in her hand, assuring her the interaction had been real. She gripped it firmly, and felt it was oddly warm. Not the warmth the Sun’s rays covered every surface in, but the type of warmth she felt when her daughter laughed, or when she spent time with her friends. The warmth of love. 

Shaken, Merry went back to the car. Grace had suddenly fallen asleep while she was outside, but she didn't have the mind to think about it now. Now, she just needed to get home and see the rest of her family. 

Chapter Text

The only reason Jet-Star didn't tackle his cousin to the ground when she came back was because she was carrying her child. That fact also prevented him from screaming at her. 

He wasn't one to scream, and actually felt more cocky than angry seeing he had been right—Merry Mayhem had run to see her daughter, she needed it— but the fight they had the night before had messed all of them up. 

Kobra had spent the previous night murmuring about how something bad would happen (very comforting, Kid) and that they needed the Witch; Ghoul had stayed silent but was visibly troubled by the comment she had made about his dead friend, and Party’s anger had seemed to shake the room. 

Yeah, Jet had known better nights. 

It hadn't been easy to get their shit together, but he spent time with each of them, talking, hugging, and eventually managed to soothe them out. They even had started writing a song ! 

They didn't find anything to fight against the impending feeling of doom, however. To say everyone was a bit freaked out was a bit of an understatement. Jet was pretty sure he saw everyone fighting back tears at some point or another during the night. (If he was honest, he’d say he did too.) 

“Hey Jet. Baby, say hi to Uncle Jet.” 

“Hiii Jeeeet!!” 

Grace is so cute he almost forgets how mad he was at her mother. He offered his arms, and Merry gave her to him. He told her to follow him inside with a head movement. Jet took the lead, that way the rest of the Killjoys would see Grace and not immediately scream at Merry in front of the child—wait, did she bring her on purpose for that ?

“My favorite kid !!” 

Fun Ghoul stood up and ran to Jet and the child. He loved her a lot, and she did too. Jet told her to greet everyone,  before she struggled to get out of his arms. He let her go, carefully putting her on the floor. From all fours, she got up and started greeting everyone as he asked.  

“You can take turns watching her so you can all scream at me, if you want.”

He was not startled by Merry’s voice. Star had been used to her sneaking up on him for years. But he felt the genuine remorse in her voice. That was good, he thought. 

“We’ll talk tonight. Cherri left us the house, we can all crash here.”, he whispered. His cousin nodded silently and went to greet everyone. She didn't acknowledge anything, but they all heard her apologetic tone. Merry then went back to her car and brought two shopping bags full of stuff. 

“What the hell, Merry ?”

It was like Christmas, but really close to Halloween. She had brought new cables and guitar straps for everyone, picks for him, shirts for Ghoulie and Pois, and a CD player for Kobra. Everyone hugged her, and the air already felt a little lighter. It made the whole afternoon a bit easier, but the conversation they’d have to have still lingered. 

They spent the day playing with Grace, and showed her and her mom the song they had written during the night. Jet-Star was pretty proud of this riff. 

Everybody pay attention to me 

I got the answer, I got the answer

We’ll rock it to ya with a capital G 

Grace danced, and Merry joined in. Of course, it was only Jet playing and Party singing for demonstration, but it seemed to already be catchy. 

Ain't a DJ goin' to save my soul 

I sold it long ago for rock 'n' roll 

Drop the needle when the tape deck blows

I got to shout this out, so everybody knows

Jet’s eyes crossed with Mayhem as he played. She was proud. And he was happy they could still read each other’s mind with a simple eye contact. His gaze drifted off to the kid, who was still dancing, and had now roped Ghoul into it. His moves were hesitant, but he eventually picked Grace up and started spinning around the room with her. 

This ain't a party, get off the dance floor

You want the get down, here comes the gang war 

You're doin' alright, I got the answer

'Cause all the good times, they give you cancer

“Hey, be careful with my daughter!” 

“Loosen up a bit Merry. I’m sure you shook her more during the drive here.” (That was Kobra Kid, obviously. Who else could match his nonchalance and sarcastic one liners ?) 

Kobra had grabbed Mayhem's hand and led her to the middle of the room. It had turned into a real dance party. Fun Ghoul and Grace were spinning, the little girl laughing her ass off, and Merry and the Kid danced together a little too well. Since when did they know how to properly dance ?? 

So hit the lights I’ll do it again 

And keep your cars and your dogs 

And your famous friends, well alright 

Eventually, the song came to an end. Grace asked for “One more !! One more !!” And Party suggested making her discover a new song. Fun Ghoul groaned when Merry suggested Taylor Swift, but he ended up dancing with her along their hesitant rendition of “You belong with me”. As it turned out, years of being forced to play girly pop songs by Merry Before stuck with Jet, even now. 

The afternoon came and went in a blink. They danced, ate, practiced shooting cans outside and added some splashes of paint on the car. 

The sun set slowly, the air cooled down, and the energy wore out. Eventually, they ate dinner and put Grace to bed upstairs in the brothers’ room, before reuniting in the couches downstairs to talk. 

“I should start with an apology”, began Merry, her tone stern. “I shouldn't have lashed out that way. It was unwarranted. You all were right about taking our time and thinking it through.” 

She breathed out, her voice a little shaky as she continued. “I messed up big, yesterday. Ghoulie, the things I said about your friends… I was totally out of place. I—I shouldn't have brought her up.”She paused for a second. “ It’s just…I still think we should be the face of the desert but… it’s something we have to do together. It should be a team effort, not with me in total control.” 

“I forgive you, May.”

Fun Ghoul’s whisper was barely audible, but Merry heard him and smiled bittersweetly. After a few more minutes of exchanging apologies and acceptance, the gang fell silent. This time, it was more comfortable. Pensive, still, but not tense. Jet thought they’d move on, maybe play a card game or just go to sleep, when Merry suddenly added. 

“I saw the fucking Phoenix Witch on my way here.” 

Everyone perked up. Kobra Kid sat straight in his arm chair, all ears. Merry told them about her encounter, showed them the stone, and described the Witch with an appearance that matched Ghoul’s memories. 

Your friends carry their blessings, she had apparently said. Jet didn't feel blessed with anything. All he had was guitar skills and medical training from when he was a volunteer firefighter Before, but that was it. They all had a couple of quirks and talents, but nothing you could call a blessing. They theorized about the Witches’ words, about what she said concerning Grace, Fun even reminisced on his own encounter with her, but none of them could come up with a satisfying theory. In the end, all they had was what she had said at face value : they apparently had blessings, save for Merry Mayhem who passed it on to her child, and Ghoul’s might be related to machines bowing to him ? Yes, he was tech savvy, even with their limited means, but nothing supernatural. Being a huge nerd could hardly be called a blessing. 

“How about we try to find a name for the new song ?” 

Now that was something more concrete for Jet-Star to put energy in. 

______

Party Poison was driving. Too fast, Jet thought. But they were so excited, he could not manage to tell them to slow down. It’d tarnish their childish smile. 

“It's a song named after me, can you imagine? It's gotta be perfect for its stage debut. It’s gotta blow in dracs faces.” 

The other night, when they introduced the song to Merry, Kobra Kid had suggested naming it after the gang, or her. She had deflected that proposition, but kept the general idea and submitted Party Poison as a name. It fit, really. A colorful, defiant song that matched their vibe perfectly. 

“Because when we’re the Killjoys, the band, they’re the leader. I'm in charge, but he’s the pretty face, you know ? Also, their ideas of a good time definitely gives you cancer.” 

It had earned a lot of groaning from the bassist, but in the end, everyone has grown fond of the idea. This song was their way of saying “sorry” to each other, in a way. 

The rest of October had come and gone, Halloween with it. Fun Ghoul had been delighted to get his own ray gun. Before getting it, he had learned to get around, making little detonators, slingshotting firecrackers, and even slashing a drac’s throat once. But they didn't talk about that. Nope. 

Now, it was mid-November : the Desert Winter had come, but not BL/Ind yet. Everyone was on the lookout; the Killjoys alliance expanded slowly, people kept watching the mysterious building site (the project was apparently named DESTROYA), and dracs and exterminators grew more and more frequent. People even avoided Zone 3 now, when it used to be relatively safe only a season ago. 

Tonight, they were playing at that same venue where they had met Ghoul, six fateful months ago. It would be a big night, a big party. Desert Freaks needed it. 

“D’you think Kobes will let me ride with him on the way back ?” 

Fun Ghoul was alone in the backseat, wrapped guitars beside him. Kobra and Merry were on the Kid’s bike, that way they had more space in the car for their stuff. 

“If you’re not shitfaced, yeah, probably.”, answered Jet. 

“I never get shitfaced. I hope Merry does tonight, so I can ride with Kobes. Man, I love his bike. If only he’d let me tweak it.” 

Ghoul continued his rambling, but Star didn't really pay attention. He heard Party answering sometimes, so at least the younger guitarist wasn't talking to the air. Jet-Star could keep zoning out, looking out the window into the endless sea of sand. From time to time, he had a vague impression of seeing a silhouette, but he’d blink and it would disappear. The Desert was a strange place. More than once, Star had wondered if it had a will of its own. 

Party practically ran out of the car when they arrived at the venue. Fucking vocalists, Jet thought, they never help with equipment. He knew that was more a Party thing than a vocalist thing, but stood by his initial curse. Fortunately, some of their allies from the Runners were already here to help them set up. Jet liked the sound gal from the Runners. June Feather, a blonde who dressed like a vintage cow-girl-pin-up mix. It was unusual to see someone reusing trends from Before, but she pulled it off. 

After greeting her and the others, Jet carried his stuff from the car to backstage. “Backstage” was actually just a large corridor, but it was all they needed. When not on stage, they’d be mixing in with the others anyway. 

As he went back to take his second guitar, he overheard the Venomous brothers talking, both leaning back on the Motorbomb. 

“He’s totally not over it though.” 

“The guy is missing, Pois. That’s kinda hard to get over. Ghoulie doesn't know if his boyfriend got ghosted or ghosted him, can you imagine ?”

Jet bit back a chuckle. Party's obvious crush on Ghoulie was entertaining, but Viper's and the other Runners disappearance was a touchy subject for everyone. Nobody dared hope they had made it across the Crimson Sea, but nobody dared suggest they had died on the mission either. 

“JET! COME HERE !” 

He grunted, slinging the strap of the guitar case around his shoulder. He slammed the door shut, and followed Merry inside. 

“Oh my dearest cousin. You know you’re the best guitarist in the Desert, and have the most luscious locks despite the climate, but you’re lacking something. You know what you need ?” 

“Merry, I swear to God, if you say “getting laid”, I—” 

“Well you also need that, but no”, she cut off. “You need make up !! Forest brought us a palette ! I’ll glam everyone!” 

Jet-Star hadn't expected to like her suggestion, but surprisingly, makeup wasn't so terrible. They all looked pretty great with it on. As it turned out, Forest had given them more than a palette (it was actually two palettes of eyeshadow, one of face paint, a bunch of eyeliners, lipsticks and brushes), which had allowed Merry and Party to turn the band into a walking art exhibition. But it didn't feel ridiculous. It felt genuine. 

At first, he hadn't been totally on board with Merry’s vision (dark green eyeshadow around his eyes, and long lines of eyeliner coming all the way down to his cheeks emulating lower lashes), but it looked good, and the colors matched Fun Ghoul’s war paint. Party had obviously gone for a Bowie tribute, getting Mayhem to paint a vibrant blue and pink bolt on his face, and she had gone with a similar color scheme for her look, covering her face in pink and electric blue glitter. Kobra had the coolest look out of all of them, Jet thought : red scales motif on his cheeks and forehead, fangs drawn in with eyeliner underneath his lips, and subtle yellow eyeshadow in the center of his lashlines. 

He couldn't quite put the feeling into words, but they looked dangerous that way. It made him think back on something Dr D had said one day : “Art is the Weapon.” Jet-Star agreed : they were young, creative, bold and colorful, and that was dangerous for BL/Ind’s hospital white pristine city. They’d force their colors in, one way or another. 

As he stepped on stage a couple hours later (not without retouching his makeup first), Jet Star felt more confident than ever. Not that he often lacked confidence, but this time, he felt something more when playing along. Purpose. Motion. A message to tell the world, or at least California. They were ready for war now. 

Planetary (Go!) melted into a Summertime cover, then Na Na Na, Bulletproof Heart and another cover of Blur’s Song 2. They then played Kids From Yesterday, and clotured their set with Party Poison. Things went well, the crowd loved it. After saluting the crowd, Jet went to unplug his equipment as Party made the closing speech. 

“It's been tense lately. BL/Ind seems to threaten us with Project Destroya, yet they don't take any concrete action. This is our chance to unionize and be ready to fight back if they attack ! Join the Killjoys alliance, expand the community, and together we’ll be prepared for anything that comes our way !” 

Star smiled as he heard the crowd cheering. His smile dropped when someone came on stage suddenly. It happened sometimes, drunk guys trying to get ahold of the mic, but this specific guy seemed to be very much in possession of his means. He wore a grey trench coat, a frilly white shirt, and was bald. He looked a bit older, at least Cherri’s age, and had an indescribable look in his eyes. The mysterious newcomer asked Party for the microphone in a polite voice. The singer, taken aback, gave it, before stepping back and huddling himself between Jet and Kobra. 

“Goodnight, Desert Dwellers. Let me introduce myself. I am Korse, of the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit. I am an elite exterminator sent by BL/Ind.” 

The crowd went dead silent. Nobody dared even trying to move. 

“BL/Ind has been watching all of you. You refused to join Battery City once, when the Relocation happened, but that was two years ago. We in Battery City have new plans for the Desert now, and we’d like to give you a chance to join the City before we put them in motion.” 

Party moved, stepping back to the front of the stage. Kobra tried to hold them back, grabbing their wrist, but they got out of his grip. “ Enlighten me, mon ami. What are these wonderful plans Better Living has for us ?”, they asked, their voice defiant. 

“ You must be Party Poison. Well, mon cher,” scoffed Korse, “it's more about the Desert itself. We intend on wiping it clean. All traces of Before the Relocation will be erased. We let you have your fun, but we really need the ressources, you see ? Anyways, this will benefit you all of course : your dilapidated houses will be repurposed to make new accommodations that you can all live in comfortably. You'll all be protected from solar flares and acidic rain. On condition of adopting the Better Living lifestyle, of course.” 

“Well, no thanks !” shouted Party Poison. And he swung at the Exterminator. 

The bald guy was fast. It was unexpected. He grabbed Party's wrist, taking advantage of their motion and using it to throw them into the crowd. Kobra and Merry jumped off the stage to check after them, calling out his name. Fun Ghoul grabbed a guitar, and tried smashing Korse’s head with it from behind. He bent down, swiftly dodging the blow, and swept poor Ghoul off his feet, making him fall first onto the stage. The guitar hit the floor at the same time, both their falls echoing with a loud thud. The bald bastard still held onto the mic. He continued his speech. 

“The Wiping has already started. We’ve cleaned out Zone 6, and we’ll get closer, and closer until everything is a blank canvas for Better Living to settle on. You can join us, live safely in Battery City, or risk your lives playing heroes in the Desert. It’s not against any of you, really. Nothing personal.It's just for the greater good.” 

Star finally acted and snatched the microphone off of Korse’s hand. This, he didn't seem to have anticipated, as if he knew Jet wouldn't try to land a hit on him. 

“Well thank you Mr Korse.” He started, his blood boiling. “ You can fuck off now. The Killjoys and the Deserts Freaks spirit will never die.” 

“Very well,” said Korse, calmly, but loud enough to be heard. “One week. In one week, we’ll unleash Hell on whatever wannabe rebels remain.” 

And with that, he left the stage, the crowd parting like the Red Sea at his approach. When the door closed behind him, tension erupted. People ran, screamed out for their gang mates, or just cried. Jet dropped to his knees, the adrenaline leaving him. He crawled on all fours to meet Fun Ghoul, still lying on the floor. 

“You okay there, Ghoulie ?” 

“Yeah,” he moaned in pain. “I just need a magic kiss from my dear Jet-bear.” 

Jet rolled his eyes, but couldn't hold back a chuckle, amazed at Ghoul's ability to still be an insufferable bastard even when collapsed to the floor. Still, he did as asked, and planted a kiss on his forehead. 

“Shit, I feel better already,” laughed Ghoulie, already sitting back up. “Go kiss everyone better.” 

Jet-Star wished it was that easy. 

____ 

The following week was a nightmare. It was a blur of panic, sudden departure from people they knew, whether it was towards Battery City or the opposite direction, attempts at hiding, finding bunkers (there were strangely a lot more bunkers around than one might imagine.)... A shit show all around. Nobody really held it against the Killjoys and their alliance, but people who weren't part of it had started growing wary of it. Better Living’s propaganda was insidious, twisting the mind of even the people with whom they shared a land and values with.

“I still maintain we should blow this fuck ass city up. Ghoulie knows his way around bombs, he'll do it.” Ghoul rolled his eyes at Party. 

“Yeah sure. I’ll blow up whichever of our family members are left.” 

The implications lingered in the air. Party Poison and Kobra Kid have known they were orphans for a long time, but the rest of them were in the dark concerning their families. Out there, they didn't use their real names, but if BL/Ind had somehow identified them and targeted their families…

Party was laying on a couch, throwing a ball up and catching it as it fell down, over and over again. Ghoul was sinking in the armchair opposite of Jet, and Kobra and Merry had already gone to bed upstairs. Cherri had taken Grace and moved in with Dr D and Show Pony, as the radio host had also been targeted by Better Living. Choosing where Grace would stay had been a tough decision, especially considering…

“How do you think Merry’s holding up?” 

“We should be the one asking you that, Jet,” answered Fun. “She’s your cousin.” 

“Yeah but- we all get each other in different ways, you know ? I know she’s bottling things up, but maybe you guys see things I don't.” 

… considering Grace’s father had been killed by BL/Ind two days ago. They had wiped the ghost town in which he was staying. A warning, Korse had called it, grabbing a poor Desert Freak and telling him to run, sparring his life just to have him spread the message. 

That had been hard on all of them. Obviously, it had taken a toll on Merry’s general mood, but everyone felt more in danger at the news: people they knew personally were killed and would continue to be killed, in addition to all the other Desert Freaks. The whole thing felt more real now, and it was honestly terrifying. 

“She's… focusing her energy on the Witch,” offered Poison, still throwing his ball. “Her and Kobes, I wouldn't be surprised if they’re not actually asleep but brainstorming about her words or something.” 

“That blessing thing is bullshit,” shot out Ghoul. “I mean, I was the first one to be assigned one, right? No machines ever bowed to me or whatever. Yeah, I tinker a bit, but I don't speak with the electronic circuits. And anyway, if we were blessed, couldn't she come to the rest of you and tell you what you do ? Considering BL/Ind will leash out in two days, that might be helpful.” 

“Do speak too ill of the Witch, Ghoulie,” warned Jet. His voice betrayed his exhaustion. “ She’s still a protector of the Desert.” 

“ You're right. Cryptic as fuck, but at least she’s real, and like, still with us,” sighed Ghoul, defeated. “Not like the big man in the sky.” 

“Maybe she’s God's way of apologizing for leaving us Before,” offered Party Poison, his voice suddenly soft.

“There’s no such thing as a God, Party,” Fun answered. But his tone was gentler this time. 

The three of them fell into a comfortable silence. Jet-Star started thinking. Fun Ghoul’s blessing was supposedly machine-related, and Merry Mayhem’s was something she would pass onto Grace through that weird stone. The stone was probably like carbons, holding onto energy and redistributing it. What kind of energy, though? Would Grace talk to ghosts, or shoot lasers with her eyes ? No, those seemed more like powers than blessings. Maybe, a blessing would be having a lot of luck. But then again, Merry had never been a particularly lucky person. So that’d be a shit trait of her to pass on. 

And Ghoulie… they knew more about what he was supposed to be. Some kind of authority over the machines. Yes, he was the one more accustomed with technology out of all of them, but he wasn't magical with it. As for the rest of them, it seemed the Witch had included them in the blessed category, but had left no hints about their gifts. Great. It wasn't like they could use the extra help of mastering their magic powers before the war. 

“We’ve got to get up early tomorrow. Help as many people as possible evacuate Zone 5 and set up detonators,” Jet reminded them. “Take Cherri’s room, I’ll stay on the couch.” 

That night, Jet-Star dreamed of a Before in which he had met the others. A world in which they got to be young together. 

____

“I think Party’s some sort of bulletproof,” declared Kobra. Him and Jet were taking off their helmets and getting off his motorbike. 

“The scar in their thigh says otherwise, though,” argued Jet. He didn't know where this conversation was going. 

“Yeah,” breathed out the blonde. “But think about it. Somehow, they only got grazed, even with a traditional gun. And it was pretty much the only time they were ever hit. How many scars do you and I have on our arms ? How many tears are in the sleeves of our shirts and jackets ?” 

Jet thought about it. It’s true that Party had rarely gotten hurt during their time in the Desert. Sure, they had fallen down, scrapped their knees, or taken punches when fighting assholes, but they never got touched by ray guns. And the one time they had gotten hurt, the bullet had barely penetrated their skin. 

“So it’s partial,” Jet added, accepting the theory. “He’s kind of bulletproof, but couldn't deflect something if someone shooted him point blank.” Kobra Kid nodded. “Yeah, basically. They may heal faster as well, but I’m not sure. Maybe it’s just that his gun wound was really superficial.” 

Jet stayed silent for a few seconds, pensive. “So, you and Merry did spend all night thinking about it, huh ?” 

“Yeah.” 

Star didn't dare ask about himself. He simply started placing the detonators along the road, as they were supposed to do. The two boys completed their mission and silence, and then drove away to set the bombs off. The explosion was impressive, and their plan of making a big hole to block BL/Ind’s progression, worked, but it didn't feel satisfying. It only felt like pushing the danger back, rather than eliminating it. 

“Maybe Poison’s right. We should blow this fucking city up.” 

The drive to the next location was silent. 

It went that way for the whole day. Short drives, placing bombs and setting them off. By dusk, Jet-Star was covered in dust (or more than usual, at least), and his ears were ringing. 

“I miss my kid,” sighed Merry, letting herself fall down on Cherri’s bed right beside him. They had just came back from Dr D’s place to record something together and see Grace, but Merry was already starting to complain again.

“What do you figure the Kid’s blessing is ?” Jet hurried to change the subject, knowing that talking about Grace wouldn't do any of them any good right now. 

“That kid knows stuff. Like, remember when we found the venue ? He was the one giving directions. He was the first one to be on board with Ghoulie joining the group. And also the one to know something Witch related would happen before I saw her.” 

“So he’s just got good intuition?” Jet was dubitative.That seemed like a reach.

“It’s more than that,” explained Merry. “He doesn't just choose between options, he is driven towards things and ideas we don't see. Remember when Poison had his alcohol problem?(her voice got quieter at that) The Kid always knew when his brother was drunk, or where he was when he’d leave in the middle of the night.” 

 That seemed a little more concrete already. Maybe it was real, or maybe they just wanted to believe in something that would help them against Better Living. Star didn't answer, and Merry didn't say anything again. They slowly shifted closer in the bed, ending up holding one another in their sleep. This time, Jet dreamed of Before as it was : him, Merry, their family and friends. He tried not to wonder what they had become. 

The next day was tense. They knew it would be the beginning of the end. BL/Ind would set the Desert to flames like they had probably done the old California, and would try to wipe anyone and anything in its way. Sure, they had blown up a lot of roads, and did everything in their power to slow their progression, but that was all they could do : slow it. They could never stop Better Living completely. They’d just slow their progression, buy other Freaks a couple hours, maybe a day more to hide, but not much more. This hopelessness, this impotence… Jet couldn't bear that. 

“PARTY WATCH OUT !”

Jet was snapped out of thoughts by Ghoul’s scream. Party turned the steering violently, drifting away from the container that had just been thrown at them. The dust rose up, clouding their visions through Motorbomb’s windows. Party hurried outside the car, shouting for Kobra and Merry, looking for them on the bike. 

“Kobes ?! Kobes !!” Party called out. Fun Ghoul and Jet-Star followed out, frantically looking around for the two missing Killjoys. 

“We’re okay !” Merry’s high voice echoed. Jet-Star saw their silhouette getting closer through the dust, and they eventually reunited. 

“Are you sure ?” Everyone turned around to look at the unexpected voice. Korse. Who else ? He stood before them, arms crossed, still as bald and slug as when they first met. There were two exterminators with him, armed and ready to fight. Jet’s hand slowly went to the holster of his gun. But the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W’s eyes followed his movement, and he raised his finger slowly, as a warning. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you, young man,” Jet hated the sense of superiority in his voice. “I know things you might also need to be aware of.” 

“What could we possibly want to hear from you, Baldie ?” bit back Poison, venom in his voice. “That your brainless company wants to make us go out of style ? Yeah, not gonna happen.” 

Korse laughed. A genuine laugh, not the ironic scoffs he had previously done. Star found it honestly a little scary. 

“No, I just want to tell you about your… friends and family. (His eyes scanned all of them and settled on Merry.) I think the young lady especially would like to know what has become of her daughter.” 

Jet was too far. He knew it. Fun Ghoul seemed to have the same idea as him, and tried to hold Merry back, but too late. She had already thrown herself at Korse. She didn't even take her gun, she just lashed out in pure fury and panic. 

“ What did you do to my daughter, you psycho?! What did you do to the others !?” 

Oddly enough, neither the exterminators nor Korse had stopped her from jumping him and tackling him to the ground. Laid down, his face beaten and bloody, he still laughed. “What kind of people do you take us for ? We’re civilized? We wouldn't hurt the child.” 

Jet-Star clenched his fists, catching on the implications that they would hurt the others. Did BL/Ind have all three of their companions ? 

“Where is she ?!” screamed Merry, grabbing Korse’s collar. He pushed her off him and swiftly got up, dusting his coat. “She’s safe and sound in a camp in Zone 1. That's where we welcome the smart souls who’ve decided to join us. You can come and fetch her there. We wouldn't bring a child inside a city by force of course… not without her mother.” 

Merry got up, and was ready to charge again. The boys tried to get closer as well, but this time, exterminators pointed their rifles at them. 

“No need for a blood bath, my friends. Just come fetch the child and surrender to Better Living. If you do that, if you agree to speak for us and get the other rats to join the City, then we’ll spare their lives. In the meantime, keep running. You don't have much time left.” 

Jet threw himself at the other boys as the exterminators fired. But the shots, as close as they had been, weren't meant for them. Coughing, Jet slowly turned his head to see their car on fire. So long, Motorbomb. 

Korse and his little clique turned away and left, disappearing in the dust. The Killjoys were left there, defeated and uncertain. What could they do now ?

As if reading his mind, Party suddenly spoke up : 

“I think it’s time for us to see how far we’ll go. We can't let them just walk over us and the Desert. ” 

“We’ll live, kill and die a family after all,” cited Kobra, still lying on the floor. 

“Not her,” said Merry from where she was, her voice shaky. “Grace won't die and won't get into that fuckass city either. And I'll kill even the Witch to make sure of that.” 

And maybe it was the lighting, or something in the air, but Jet could have sworn that at that moment, the stone she kept around her neck glowed. 

Chapter Text

Kobra Kid felt guilty at the thought, but he was kind of glad his bike didn't get blown up. Of course, it would have been more practical to get to Zone 1 by car, but he loved that bike. 

He knew Fun Ghoul would understand. 

“I get what you mean, Kobes,” he said, holding Kobra's waist firmly as they drove away. “If everything went to shit in the blink of an eye, I'd be happy to have something to hold onto. Like my gun. But it’s still less unique than your bike.” 

Their mission was to stop a Better Living car and steal it. There had to be some around, considering the ongoing invasion. The others, in the meantime, would try to walk and get as close to their house as possible. 

After a twenty or so minute drive, they finally saw a white car in the distance. Kobra stopped to put on his mask, and Ghoul did the same. He hit the accelerator again, and got as close as possible to the vehicle. 

“It’s dracs ! Easy.” 

Draculoids were the lowest ranks of BL/Ind’s militia. They were ordinary people whose minds were wiped clean and conditioned to kill on sight. It was regrettable, having to kill people who didn't choose that life, but it had to be done. And it wasn't like there was any consciousness left under those masks anyway. 

Kobra got as close as possible to the other vehicle, swiftly dodging the dracs' attempt to ram their car into them. Fun Ghoul, ever so reactive, took out his gun and fired at them. He missed his first shot, and the second one ricocheted on the roof of the car. 

“Shit ! Where’s Pois when you need them ?” Kobra heard him swear. He refrained from reminding Fun it was him who insisted on being the one to go with Kobra. 

“Just concentrate, Ghoulie. Focus on the dracs inside, not on the car.” 

Fun Ghoul breathed in slowly, and fired a third shot. This one hit its target and shattered the window. A fourth ray killed the drac in the passenger seat. 

“ You think you could shoot the door open and jump inside ?” 

Kobra knew his idea was crazy. But he also knew his friend. And he knew it’d work.  

“You’re fucking crazy, Kobes. Let’s do it.” 

As he had said. 

It took Ghoul a couple more shots until the left door jumped open, flailing with the driving speed. He managed to make it detach, and then they were onto the next step. Kobra leaned right to get closer to the car. This time, the drac tried to get further instead of hitting them. Kobra readied himself to accelerate, shouting over the wind to warn Fun. 

“I’m going to try to get closer by going faster, okay ? Think you can use the motion to jump into the car ?”

“Well, only one way to know !” 

Sometimes The Kid wondered if Fun Ghoul had gone a little crazy from being alone and having to kill exterminators with his bare hands, or if he had always been like that. His first impression of the boy was that he was reserved, almost shy. Now he knew that despite being mostly quiet, Ghoulie was also a bit hyperactive at times, rambling, jumping everywhere, or well, being ready to throw himself inside a moving car. 

“On three, Ghoulie ! One…(They got closer)... Two… Three !” 

Fun Ghoul let himself fall down towards the right, where the car was. He managed to hold on onto the top of the door opening, and pushed himself off the bike with his feet. Kobra was a little thrown off his balance by that and almost fell down, but with quick thinking, he leaned to the right to get back on track. 

While he was readjusting himself, Fun Ghoul had managed to fully get inside the car, shoot the drac, and was now trying to hit the brakes from the passenger seat. A little tricky, but after a good minute, he managed to put the car to a halt. The dark haired boy strutted out of the car, threw the dracs dead body on the ground, and held out two fingers, proud of himself. 

“We did it, Kobes ! You’re a fucking genius, I hope you know that.” 

“My genius would be nothing without your madness. Come on, let's get back to the others.” 

Fun Ghoul got back in the car and made a U-turn to follow the route they had agreed on. Kobra did the same, following him closely. Luckily, they hadn't driven a lot before finding the dracs. It wouldn't take them too long to get back to the others, around twenty minutes at most. A little less, depending on how close the others got by foot. 

As he drove, Kobra Kid’s mind drifted away. He thought of Cherri, stuck the Witch knew where with Dr D, Show Pony, and poor Grace. Kobra thought he had been used to experiencing loss by now, but the thought of losing any of them right now ripped a new hole in his chest. He thought of the other Killjoys. He knew they were older, more mature, more skilled fighters than him, but he also knew they were still just kids. Fun Ghoul was freshly eighteen, and the others were only nineteen. They were brave, sure, but not immortal. The Kid found it a bit unfair. Did the kids in the mainland still get to go to college ? Why wouldn't the mainland come help them anyway ? 

“It’s better not to think about it,” Poison said each time he asked about it. “None of the possibilities are reassuring.” 

Two years later, that was still as true as ever. Now Kobra was thinking about his older sibling. Flamboyant, defiant. Reckless. Maybe a little too proud. He’d have to be extra careful to stop Party from doing anything self-sacrificial today, he knew it. Kobra knew they wouldn't all make it out alive, somehow. But if he could help it, he’d do everything in his power to be sure Party Poison wouldn't be the one to join the Witch. As much as he loved the others, Party had been here all his life. He knew Jet-Star and Merry Mayhem would also give their own life to save the other, or Grace. 

Who’d give their life for Fun Ghoul? A voice asked in his head. He hated the fact that he doubted for a second. Yes, most of the Killjoys were related and knew each other Before, but it wouldn't stop any of them from self sacrifice for someone else. But he swore silently that he’d be the one to do it if he had to. 

_____

“I think I’ll tell him. If the opportunity presents itself.” 

Kobra knew Party was talking about confessing to Ghoul. He wasn't against it (none of his business, truly), but the urgency reminded him that they may not all make it out alive. If any of them made it at all. 

“Tell everyone everything you have to say, Pois.” Might as well embrace the upcoming doom. 

“Yeah, I should. I love you, Kid,” they sighed. 

“ I love you too, Pois.”

They got back on the bike and Kobra sped a little to catch up to the others in the BL/Ind car, who had already started driving. Kobra had no idea how Ghoul would react to a confession coming from Party. Maybe he wouldn't react, just smile and move on. The situation they were in didn't really leave room for time consuming heartfelt confessions. Maybe if things were still okay, if the desert was still somewhat peaceful, his brother would get fully accepted or rejected. Fun was obviously still grieving Viper, but he also had a thing for Party before. Kobra thought he might still do. But they had never talked about it. And once again, that wasn't his business. Yes, Party spent a good time yearning and complaining before they went to bed each night, but he didn't know Ghoul’s point of view. 

The white car was still a bit ahead, but they were catching up fast. A little too fast, actually… As they got closer, the blonde realized the others had stopped their vehicle. He pressed the gas pedal once more to see what was happening. Worry gnawed at his stomach. As they got closer, Kobra saw the others getting out of the car. He recognized Merry’s silhouette, Jet-Star’s, Fun Ghoul’s and… a fourth one was also here. The Phoenix Witch, he thought. it had to be. 

Kid almost made his brother and himself fall over the motorbike while drifting to a stop. He got off quickly, followed closely by the redhead, and went to stand by Merry’s left . The Witch, as he had guessed, was here, facing away from them. It seemed she had been waiting for the siblings because, as they fell in line, she slowly turned to face the little group. Kobra Kid felt a chill run down his spine. He felt paralyzed, glued in place, but somehow, it wasn't scary. 

“My brave, blessed kids. Today marks a new beginning. You all have the will of the Desert on your side.” 

“W-what are those blessings you talk about?” Kobra managed to let out. The others turned to look at him, apparently as shocked as he was that he had managed to speak. 

He couldn't see the Witch’s face behind her mask but he heard her smile as she said : 

“You’ve already figured it all out, my child. You just have to embrace it. Whether you heal or wound, you give or take, you feel or command … you’ll have to embrace it. You'll experience loss, it's unstoppable, but you can save the land you believe in.”

The Kid wanted to ask more, but before he could, a strong gust of wind made the dust rise and the Phoenix Witch vanished. She left no trace of her presence : no footprint or scattered feathers. But they all knew what they had just seen. The five of them stayed silent for what seemed like hours, even though it was probably two or three minutes. Merry was the one to break the silence. 

“Okay, so, Kobes is definitely the one who “feels”, and Ghoulie is “command,” she said matter-of-factly. “ Now who’s healing, creating or harming ?” 

“Jet heals,” Ghoul and Party said at the same time. They looked at each other, awkwardly trying to let the other one talk first. Party ended up taking the initiative. 

“You treated my gunwound with, like, barely anything. I could have a way nastier scar, or a limp, or it could have gotten infected. Also, you never get sick, your bruises and scratches heal in a day, and you’re always taking care of us.” Ghoul nodded before adding : 

“Also, I wasn't really joking the other day. When I hit my head, you did kiss it better. Thought it was the adrenaline. But I didn't have a bump or a bruise afterwards. And we clearly know I should have.” 

Murmurs of approval echoed through the group. Kobra felt good that his and Merry’s theories had been confirmed. 

“Party’s the wounding one, I think,” declared Kid. “Our theory with May was that they’re bulletproof, but they're also a perfect shot. As in, too perfect: we’ve all seen it.” 

“I’m supposed to be what ?!”

“I’ll tell you later,” he answered dismissively. “I think I'm the feeler indeed and Merry has to be the giver-taker.” 

“Well, what am I giving? I think the stone she gave me last time is a vessel to give that something, and I know it’s harvesting it from me, but I don't know what it is.” 

“Sorry Merry, I have no idea this time,” admitted Kobra. 

Ghoul raised his hand politely to bring the attention back to him. 

“Guys, all of your theories about everyone’s super powers seem super plausible and stuff, but I still don't see how I could command the machines. It could have helped when I spent weeks trying to fix the mic at Cherri’s.” 

That was true. He was the one with the most explicit blessing out of all of them, yet the one for whom it made the least sense. Kobra hated how they still couldn't figure it out.

“We’ll find it, Ghoulie, I'm sure of it. I promise,” he lied. 

The group decided to go back to their respective vehicle in order to drive the rest of the way. However, instead of getting to the bike, Party Poison marched straight to Fun Ghoul and grabbed his wrist, making him turn away from the two cousins on their way to the car. Kobra tried to take little steps away from them, knowing what was coming. The redhead grabbed Ghoul’s shoulder with one hand, and pointed at the smaller man’s face with the other. They took a deep breath before finally speaking : 

"I like you a lot, Ghoulie," they said. When Kobra had thought about it earlier, he hadn't imagined such a public confession, but they didn't have many options for privacy. "So don't you dare die on us today." 

"Okay, Pois," assured Fun Ghoul. "I won't. None of us will." 

But Kobra knew someone would. The Witch had basically confirmed his intuition. He couldn't say that, though. 

Poison pulled Fun into a hug, and Kobra saw it was a little too tight to be amicable. He wondered if Ghoul understood what his brother was silently conveying. 

“Pois, let’s go.” 

They let go and came to join Kid on the bike. 

The rest of the drive to Zone 1 was stressful. As the sun lowered, the temperature did the same. They hoped their friends were in one of the checkpoints near the route they were on. Circling around the Zone to find them if they were on the other side of Battery City would probably prolong their trip by hours, like when they had to go on route Guano.

Kobra Kid had never taken such a long trip on his motorcycle yet . He had driven it for maybe one hour and a half straight at most, and now their road trip was nearing three hours. Thankfully, he had filled his tank the day before. (Maybe he had known he’d need it.) 

“I’m glad we got to live this life,” Poison says at some point. He doesn't have the heart to respond. Once again, it would make the prospect of one of them dying all the more real. Kobra didn't want to act as if the life they had known in the Desert was over. It couldn't be. They were still young, and despite the radiation, they still had many years ahead of them. They would win this war, go home, make a cake to celebrate if they had some sugar left, and get black out drunk. Merry would make little Grace stand on the table to dance with her as Jet and Poison would play a song. Ghoul would be cuddled against Kobra on one of the couches, until Show Pony forced them to dance along. Cherri Cola and Dr Death-Defying would be chatting in a corner, looking at them fondly and yelling to stop them from breaking something. That’d be ideal. 

In the distance, the blond can finally see one of BL/Ind’s checkpoints. It was the middle of the night by now, but light emanated from it. It was a big white tent, with a bunch of cars around. It seems like a busy place, and Kobra can make out both Better Living workers in white and Desert pals in vivid colors, although muted by the darkness of the night. 

He’s not mad. A little disappointed, yes, but he can't be mad. Their homes have probably been destroyed. If it weren't for the loss of his parents, he’d probably be with them. He just wished those people had a choice. A real choice. Not one that consisted of choosing between submission and death by either execution or starvation. 

When the Killjoys park their vehicles along with the others, it’s weirdly casual, like when they arrive at a party. The three others got out of the car as the brothers got off the motorcycle. They looked at each other, but didn't say anything. Merry led the way, her walk filled with determination. Kobra falls in line behind her, Jet-Star by his side, Fun and Party behind them.

Some people seemed to recognize them as they marched towards the tent, but none approached. 

Inside the tent, people were eating, getting medical exams, or just resting. If you forgot the armed exterminators along the walls, it seemed almost welcoming. They followed the signs saying “Main Office”, walking inside the corridors made of fabric . Finally, they arrived at the Office. An exterminator, seemingly higher ranked than the others, judging by his uniform, guarded the curtain. Merry stepped forwards, introduced them and asked for a meeting with the person overseeing the checkpoint. The exterminator nodded and stepped aside to let them enter, not uttering a word. 

The person seated at the desk in the Office was none other than Korse. Of course it was. He stood up, smiled warmly, and greeted them. 

“Ah, Ms Rowen and her friends. I was waiting for you. Please, have a seat.” 

Merry tensed up at the use of what seemed to be her Before surname. Still, she didn't say anything, and sat down in one of the chairs. Korse waited for all of them to sit down before doing the same. Once settled, he began explaining : 

“As I told you in our yesterday encounter, we have your friends. Dr Death-Defying, Cherri Cola, and Show Pony, as I believe you call them. We also have Ms Mayhem’s daughter. No harm will be done to them. If you cooperate, we could release them.” 

“What the fuck do you want from us ?” spat out Party. “What does Better Living have against a bunch of teenagers ?!” 

Korse joined his hands and sighed dramatically. 

“Everyone has been affected by the drifting of the Californian Island. We in Battery City believe that living in unity would be better. We could use the ressources left in the Desert to provide for everyone for years to come. And if the Desert People joined, it'd make it all easier. You became icons in the desert, and we believe they’d be more inclined to follow if you were leading them to safety. To us.” 

“Cut that shit out, man,” said Jet. “You called us rats the other day. We know that’s the nice version. You’ve already told us that.” 

Korse smiled. It was a little creepy, but it felt more genuine. 

“ You’re insightful, Mr Toro,” He said, ignoring Jet’s bitter fuck you. “ If I’m honest, I gave you the scripted version I was instructed to tell. (He checked his nails) In reality, the Director and her team just can't stand you. She wants all of the Desert to fit her ideals. Our goal is to control the whole island and declare our independence officially. Make Battery City a City-state, you get me ? Like the Vatican, but holier. We honestly couldn't care less about killing your kind, but it’d be bad press for us and too much work to cover it up.” 

Someone told Korse he’s fucking crazy, and Kobra wasn't sure who it was, but they were right anyway. 

“So, what’s the deal?,” asked Merry, clenching her teeth. 

“If you surrender and follow us, we’ll give you your daughter back and free your friends. They’ll be free to choose where they stand. We’ll stop the invasion in the desert and use more peaceful tactics. There's hair dye in Battery City, don't worry. It only comes with the price of obedience.” 

“And if we decline ?” 

“We’ll burn your dear zones to the ground. But it’d be a waste of resources, so we’d rather not. I think it’d be easier to kill you all and bring your rodent friend's spirits down, but Mrs Director doesn't agree. A shame, truly. You would have been a fine addition to my kill list.” 

That guy wass definitely insufferable, but at least he was more honest now. He was still an asshole, but he had the guts to do it honestly, not like that Mrs Director that they used to see on TV Before, with her fake smile and overly sweet voice. 

Merry said they wanted to see their friends and be assured of their well-being before making any choice. Kobra was lost : he had honestly expected to feel something, to know what they should do, but nothing came through. Instead, he had a vague feeling of having to trust Merry, but was that any different than usual? She was their leader, after all. 

The six of them left the Office, then the tent, and joined Korse in a big (white) car. “No exterminators, nor dracs for the ride,” he had assured. Merry Mayhem sat shotgun, constantly looking over her shoulder, as if to make sure the rest of the Killjoys were still there. 

During the ride to wherever their friends were, strange things happened. The radio would turn on and off at random, emitting white noise Korse groaned at. It made Kobra feel weird inside. 

“Are you doing that ?” he whispered to Ghoul, sitting on his right. 

“No,” Ghoul whispered back. “I know that’s not me.” 

Weird. The inside lights of the car also flickered on and off at times, adding to the uneasy feeling of the already not ideal situation. Kid saw Korse looking over at them through the rearview mirror, as if the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W was also wondering who was responsible for this. 

Thankfully, the drive wasn't long. Ten minutes later, they arrived at another, smaller checkpoint that seemed to only inhabit Better Living workers. 

Korse got out of the car, followed by the others. They entered the smaller, grey tent, and were welcomed by too many exterminators and draculoids. Korse led them to the back of the tent, in a small room similar to his office in the first checkpoint. Inside, the light was dim, and there were around five beds here. Three of them were taken, by Show Pony, Cherri Cola and Dr Death-Defying cuddling with Grace. 

“We put them in an artificial sleep,” explained Korse. “ No harm done, I promise. Saves us the effort of chaining them.” 

Kobra tensed up at the mention of chains. He wasn't the only one. Korse stepped towards a bedside table, and flipped a little switch embedded in it. 

“They should wake up in a couple minutes now. So, what do you think ?” 

“I want to talk to you alone,” Merry said. 

“I have no objections.” 

They sat on one of the empty beds and dismissed the others. They found themselves back in the main space, sitting awkwardly at an empty table, uncomfortable due to their proximity with dracs . 

“She’s doing something,” Kobra blurted out. He knew somehow. “She’s actively doing something, I just don't know what.” 

“Couldn't your power be more precise?” groaned his brother, slouching over the table. 

“At least I’ve pretty much mastered it,” he bit back, narrowing his eyes. Party rolled their eyes. 

Suddenly, a draculoid approached their table, put their hands on the table, and after a second, turned and left. What the hell? 

“What the hell ?” echoed Jet-Star’s aloud. The brothers looked at each other, confused, and almost a minute passed by before Ghoul slapped his hand over his mouth. 

“By the Witch, Ghoulie ! Did you do that ?” Party Poison is stunned. Fun nodded silently, hand still clasped. The others stared at him intently, waiting for the brunette to elaborate. He uncovered his mouth and explained. 

“I heard a buzzing,” he whispered. “But it was also a voice, in a sense ? And I don't know, I wanted it to get closer, but the drac came. I freaked out and wanted it to leave, and it left.” 

“So you … commanded…the machine...?” Jet made sure. 

“I guess ? There was no resistance, like a voice but no dialogue. It was weird.” 

“This is just like Star Wars,” said Kobra Kid at the same time as Party Poison said “Like Obi-Wan!” They giggled at their shared nerdiness before getting back to the subject. 

“Why now and not before?” Jet always had good questions.

“Well, I'm usually not that still when I'm around dracs,” cringed Ghoul.

“Maybe you only command Better Living machines ?” proposed Poison 

“Or Desert-made technology in general,” added Kid. 

That seemed plausible. A desert blessing related to desert technology. That could be useful. 

“Think you could use your trick to turn the dracs against BL/Ind ?” Party seemed to have read his mind. 

“Dude, no ! I just figured that out, don't know how it works yet, and even if it worked, there would still be hundreds of exterminators who do have a conscience.” 

“True, true. Well, you can still make bombs anyway.” 

Before Ghoul could answer, Kobra felt a chill down his spine. 

“Stand up slowly and don't say anything,” he told them quietly. “We’re going to get back to Merry.” 

Is she okay? Mouthed Jet, worried. Kobra nodded, knowing that everyone was safe for now.

They walked back to the back of the tent, and thankfully no one stopped them. In the white corridor, before the curtain, Merry was sitting on the floor, her hands supporting her. The Killjoys rushed over to help her up. 

“Merry, fuck !” Jet-Star shout-whispered. “What happened?!” 

“Knocked baldie out with the gas… we got to take the others and run…” 

That wouldn't be an easy task. There were four of them still standing properly, but three adults and a young child knocked out (or close to it for Merry) to carry out. A struggle in perspective.

“Leave us and come back with a car …” 

Almost passed out , Merry still had plans. They all entered the dormitory to be more discreet, and Kobra Kid felt his head spin a little. They had to act quickly, to not fall asleep as well. Fun Ghoul tore the end of the tent with his ray gun, creating a large opening. The Killjoys got close to it, breathing in the fresh air. 

“So… who’s going ?” asked Ghoul. 

“I’ll do it,” answered Poison, already marching towards the parked cars a few dozen yards away. 

In the meantime, Ghoul helped Merry get some fresh air, while Kobra and Jet carried the adults limp bodies out of the opening. After a minute or so, Party parked a white van in front of their clandestine exit, and got out to help them load it. Making an unconscious person—especially someone bigger than yourself — was no easy task. But they managed to do it somehow. The unconscious adults were in the furthest seats, Kobra was with Jet and a semi awake Merry in the backseats, holding Grace firmly in place on his lap.

Poison drove fast, as usual. They seemed to have a set destination in mind, but no one asked about it.

Sadly, it seemed their escape had been discovered, because after five minutes, they saw headlights behind them. Party cursed under his breath, pressing the pedal to go faster. Kobra’s fast heartbeats echoed in his head. Faster, faster. Kobra hugged Grace a little tighter, and Jet-Star squeezed Merry’s hand. The others may be starting to wake up, but Kobra didn't dare turn around. 

Then, a gunshot. A laser ray flew right by them, missing the car by not much. Party starts driving in zig-zags, trying to destabilize their pursuers. They all know they have to escape or else… they might die, or they might never be free again. Worst of all, what if they were draculoidized ? 

“Ghoul, please retaliate,” begged Party, his breath short. Fun Ghoul obeyed, lowering the window to get half his upper body out of the car and shoot. His shots seem to not do any real damage, but it stops one of the three cars following them. 

“Two to go,” shouted Poison, looking through the rear view mirror. “C’mon Ghoulie, you can do it.” 

Ghoul shot again a couple times, but had to come back in so as to not get hit. Party resumed the zig-zagging to dodge the rays. 

“Fuck !” 

It’s an understatement. A tire had been hit. They were done for. Someone was going to die now. Kobra knew it. 

Passing Grace over to Jet, he jumped out the car as it slowed down, facing the two upcoming cars. Ignoring the others yelling at him to come back, he fired at the cars. As narcissistic as it may sound, Kobra Kid knew he channelled the will of the Desert. 

One of his shots cracked the windshield of a car, sending it to roll over as the driver panicked. The other stopped in a drift, and half a dozen exterminators came out of it. They were armed and protected, way more than any of the Killjoys were. But Kobra wasn't afraid somehow. He ran towards the right, shooting at them and hoping they’d retaliate, making them point their rifles away from the car. It worked, until Party and Ghoul came running with their own ray guns. 

Party killed an exterminator with a perfect shot while still running. Once close enough, they tackled their brother to the ground . 

“Are you crazy ?! You could have died !” 

“I know I won't, Pois !” he yelled back, trying to get out of their grip. “Now get off me, before they kill Ghoulie !” 

Party groaned and rolled over to get back on his feet, running back to be by Ghoulie's side. Two exterminators were dead, but there were still five of them, and the ones slowly crawling out of the upside down car. 

Both sides kept firing, and while Jet seemed to be joining them with Merry, they also saw new Better Living cars approaching in the distance. 

The sun would rise soon. Someone would die soon. 

Right as Jet arrived, Ghoul lunged at the nearest exterminator and punched them square in the face. Rolling over in the dust, they fought until a shot was fired and the exterminator dropped dead. Fun took his rifle, and after dodging a few stray lasers, handed it over to Merry.

Somehow, they had the advantage. Maybe because they were more aware of their blessings now, maybe the Desert was just on their side. But half of the dozen exterminators were already dead, a few wounded. The Killjoys had managed to hold the fight with minor injuries. A cut here, a burned strand of hair there … and a split lip for Ghoul, of course. 

Kobra found himself side by side with Ghoul, while Merry was with Party and Jet had run back to their car. 

“I’m going to do something crazy, okay ?” announced Ghoul.

“ When are you not, after all?” 

The shorter man grinned at him before suddenly sprinting straight to the car that had been knocked over. Dodging an exterminator, he slid onto the ground like a soccer player and threw something at the oil leaking onto the desert soil. Kobra watched as he quickly got back on his feet, before sprinting once again, this time away from the car catching fire. 

“ TAKE COVER!” yelled Ghoul before being dragged down to the ground. 

The exterminator he had gotten past mere seconds earlier had grabbed him by the leg, making him face-plant. Thankfully, he didn't have a rifle. Fun rolled over on his back and tried to debate them with frantic leg kicks, but the exterminator held on firmly. 

Kobra felt someone drag him away. 

“No, wait, we’ve got to get Ghoulie !” he protested. 

“Kobes, we can't ! It’s going to exp-” 

The car exploded. 

Jet, the one who had grabbed Kobra, threw both of them on the ground. The car was far away that they mostly felt heat, but a few pieces of debris flew over them. 

Ignoring the ringing in his ears and the burning in his throat, Kobra stood to rush by Ghoulie's side. As he squinted his eyes, trying to see in the dust, he could make out Party’s red hair, holding Ghoul in their arms. 

“Ghoulie !” Kobra dropped to his knees. “Is he-?” Party shaked their head, to his relief. 

“Alive. He just…”

The blonde looked down. Their friend was knocked out and bloody all over his face. The side of his mouth had been lacerated, leaving a long opening. 

“I’ll get Jet.” Kobra said. 

He knew Ghoul wouldn't die. He knew his explosion took out the rest of the exterminators. But he also knew a whole new shipment of them was coming their way. 

He got Jet-Star, who took Fun Ghoul and carried him to the car, while the brothers and Merry stripped the exterminator of their (not obliterated) rifles to prepare themselves for a second round. The three of them stood still, waiting for the third car. It came, and this time, only three people were inside. S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S. Two of them, and an exterminator who seemed to carry themselves with more confidence than the other. And of course, of fucking course, one of the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S was none other than—

“Not very nice of you to drug me and run, Chris !” called out Korse. “I thought we were having a pleasant conversation.” 

Merry shot at him for all response, which he dodged quickly. Korse shaked his head disapprovingly. 

“Such a shame, Chris. You really fooled me for a bit, you know ? I actually thought we could build something beautiful. I was excited about telling it to Flare over there,” he added, referring to the other agent by his side. She looked younger, but was taller than him by almost a whole foot. Despite her bland uniform, she had a bright green bob. “Well, at least, your deaths will be memorable.”

“Wait, Korse,” Flare stopped him. “They still have one last chance to surrender. Even though the deal won't be as sweet.” 

Jet-Star shot at her, exclaiming “Never !” and the fight was back on. It was three on four this time, but those three were elite agents. The Killjoys had struggled with Korse alone before, and now one of his colleagues and what seemed to be their apprentice were there. This would be in no means an easy fight. 

Kobra wished he had future visions instead of just foresight, because that would be really, really useful in combat. Still, he knew someone would take them by surprise at some moment, so he decided to target the exterminator, because it would probably be them. 

The two S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S were already fighting with the cousins, and Party joined them soon enough. Kid decided to take the third one on one on one. 

As he had guessed, this one was stronger than regular exterminators. Despite the mask, they anticipated Kobra's movements, and blocked his hits easily. The blonde managed to hit him with a blast of his gun, but it seemed they were protected. They punched him in the guts with the back of their rifles, sending him tumbling and falling on his back. 

Surprisingly, they didn't hold up their weapon to aim, but tossed it aside, and dropped to their knees to get on top of him. They punched him, and it hurt, it hurt so bad. Kobra cried out, tried to get out of their hold, but they were too strong. The hits kept coming, he could taste his blood and his tears.

Somehow, in the middle of his struggle, he managed to get ahold of his ray gun. Not aiming one bit, he shot with it, the laser going straight through his opponent’s thigh. Kid extricated himself from under the exterminator, and kicked them in the guts for good measure. And revenge. 

Wiping his mouth, Kobra marched towards Flare, determined. She turned around to kick him, but Merry pulled on her arm to bring her down. Somehow, the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W didn't fall, instead doing a graceful cartwheel to get back on her feet. Kobra jumped on her back, yelling at Merry to shoot her. 

“You're fucking crazy if you think I'll shoot, Kobes,” she yelled, trying to rip Flame’s own ray gun out of her hands. “It’d go right through you.” 

Merry managed to get the ray gun, and threw it back to Flame’s head. The hand she had on Kid’s arm around her neck went to her forehead, and she kneeled over. Kobra got off her back, and went by Merry’s side, pretty proud of them. A few yards away, it seemed Jet and Party had managed to get the upper hand on Korse as well. Merry straightened her back, raising her rifle to finish Flame off. As her finger started pressing on the trigger, she spit out a mouthful of blood. 

“What…” 

The exterminator had stabbed her in the back. Kobra didn't even shoot as they collapsed once again, but he should have. He should have finished them off sooner. He caught Merry as her knees betrayed her, immediately, rushing back to the car while carrying her. 

“May, Merry, you’re going to be okay. Don't, don't close your eyes, okay ? I’ll get Jet.I’ll get Jet, and he’ll heal you, and you’re going to be okay, just like Ghoulie, okay ?” 

“Kobes,” she smiled weakly. “We both know we can't all make it. Nobody talked about it, but the Witch said so, right ? I think you know. Just give this to Grace and tell her I love her. If anything, I'm glad it’s me.” She took off her necklace, hands shaking, and put it in the front pocket of his jacket. 

Kobra was not. How could he be glad anyone's dying? The car was right in front of them, now he only had to get Star and help his brother fight Korse, and then— 

“Merry !” 

It’s Cherri, now wide awake, coming out of the car. He took Merry in his arms, and helped her get inside the car, when they heard another engine. 

One of their opponents went back to their car, and was charging right at them. Cherri immediately got away from the car, dropped Merry and went back to get Fun’s unconscious body. Kobra went for Grace, and while Show Pony was conscious enough to manage by themselves, Dr Death-Defying was still totally out of it. 

They couldn't stop it. They couldn't have gone back. They couldn't have carried him out in time. Kobra knew there was nothing they could have done in time, but guilt still hit as hard as the two cars collided. 

The only reason he didn't collapse was because Grace was in his arms. She was still asleep, and he hoped the amount of sleep gas her little body absorbed wouldn't have long lasting effects on her. 

Was that it ? Dr D crushed in a car collision, Merry bleeding out on the ground, Grace turned narcoleptic and Fun Ghoul disfigured forever. 

Still stunned, Kobra's gaze was lost somewhere, until Show Pony snapped him out of it. 

“Kobes. Cherri has a plan. We’ve got to try and get D's body still. Give me Grace and do it, please,” they begged, their voice hoarse. Kobra nodded mindlessly, passing the sleeping toddler and putting one foot in front of another to get to the car. 

He was never the closest to Dr D, that would obviously be Fun Ghoul, followed by Jet. But he had been so important to all of them, so helpful, so loving… Kobra couldn't lose him. He couldn't lose anyone, no matter what fate said. His steps quickened, as before he knew it, he was running to the aftermath of the crash. The back of their car was sunk in, but not totally destroyed. From what Kobra saw, Dr D’s body had not been totally crushed. He pulled on his shoulders, then grabbed him by the hips, and step by step, although slowly, managed to get him out. 

Kobra heard another car engine and panicked, but this time, he saw Cherri was inside it. Cola got out and helped Kid put Dr D’s limp body inside the trunk. They got back to the car, and went by Show Pony and the wounded Killjoys’ side. They quickly got in the back, still holding Grace. Kid and Cola got out of the car once more. But as they took Ghoul in their arms, they heard Jet’s panicked voice : 

“No !” 

Both their heads snapped to see where Korse and the others had gone. While fighting, they had gotten quite far from the original circle of cars, but they could still see the situation very clearly. Party Poison was knocked out on the ground, and Jet was on his knees, held at gunpoint by a laughing Korse. The S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W turned around to yell in the direction of Kobra. 

“You’re the only one still conscious left, kiddo,” he said, knocking Jet unconscious with the back of his gun to prove his point. Surrender yourself to me and I'll let the others and the brat go. 

“Don't do it, Kobes,” Merry said, still bleeding on the floor. 

“She’ll get help in Battery City if you agree,” added Korse, marching over to them. “ And he’ll get stitches. You’ll get patched up nicely. Maybe I won't even knock you out before going back to Battery City. The Director really wants you alive, and I really want to keep my job, so I'm ready to forget about that mess, okay?” he sighed like all that was just a minor inconvenience.” 

Cherri stayed silent, still holding Fun Ghoul’ upper body. Somehow, two contradicting thoughts battled in his mind : he knew they would lose someone today, but now he also knew he had to take on the offer to avoid anyone dying. How would that work ? 

“Okay,” he said weakly. His eyes dropped to Merry, he wanted to apologize, but she was already unconscious. 

“Wise choice, Kobra Kid,” smiled Korse, tilting his head. “You really are wise beyond your years. You have one minute to say goodbye and then you will help me put your little friends in the car that will come. 

He avoided Cherri’s eyes and gave him a weak side hug, whispering “I’ll find a way” in his ear. He looked inside the car and hugged a confused Show Pony before kissing Grace’s forehead and slipping the green stone in her small hand.

“Are you- are we okay ? Is it over ?” 

“M’sorry, Pony,” Kobra answered tearfully. “It’s the only way.” 

He backed off before they could answer. A white ambulance is approaching, with motorcycles by its sides. It parked next to Jet and Party, and Better Living employees take their bodies on stretchers. Then, it got next to them, opening once again, revealing additional beds to put Merry and Ghoul’s bodies. There’s a fifth one, probably meant for him, Kobra realized as they laid Fun on the stretcher. 

They do the same with Merry, and then Korse invited (or commanded) Kobra Kid to lie on the last one. It was almost peaceful, he felt almost ready to let darkness engulf him as adrenaline comes down, before Korse says: 

“You didn't think you’d get off that easily, right? You’ll all live, but there has to be consequences.” 

Kobra wanted to jump back up, but he felt a sharp pain in his arm. Korse had just injected him with something. 

“It’ll take a minute or two to take effect,” the bald man explained. “Someone has to watch, or else it wouldn't be fun, right ?” 

Korse grinned, leaning right over Kobra Kid’s face. He then turned his back on the Killjoy, looking for something. When he turned around again, Kobra was horrified to see what he was holding. A draculoid mask. 

“ I wonder who it should go to…” wondered Korse, circling around them. It was obvious he was having fun with it. “ Let’s see… Jet-Star was a hell of a fighter. I’ll probably have a nasty scar under my chin because of him. Fun Ghoul… at least the mask would hide his face. Maybe Party Poison? They’re really annoying, and too popular, I think.” 

Korse stopped right by the bed where Merry Mayhem laid, right next to Kobra. 

“Merry Mayhem… It’d make sense, don't you think? That bitch was your leader, she basically started all this. And she betrayed me. Yeah, that would make sense.”

Korse gently lifted her head to put the mask on her. 

“Goodbye, Merry Mayhem. Goodbye, Christina Rowen. Goodbye, whoever you were. Who cares anyway? We'll hardly miss you.” 

Kobra wanted to scream, jump, cry, or just anything, but all he could do was close his eyes and succumb to the tranquillisant. 

Chapter Text

When Fun Ghoul came to his senses, he ached everywhere. It felt like a building had been dropped on him, or like he got knocked out in an explosion. Go figure.

It hurt everywhere : his legs, his arms, his torso—it even hurt to breathe. 

The worst, though, was his face. Instead of feeling crushed he felt everywhere else, his face felt like it had been ripped apart, chopped with an axe and roughly put back together. 

He slowly opened his eyes, but couldn't see much. Wherever he was, it was dark and quiet. However, he could still tell two things: he was on a rather comfortable bed and he was alone in the room.

He tried to remember, reminisce about the fight, but the last thing he could see in his mind was him being tripped and pulled down by an exterminator as he ran. And then, his own explosion had caught up to him. Well, at least it hadn't killed him. 

Now, the next step was to figure out where he was and how he had ended up here. Rooms this dark were rare, fully opaque blinds were regrettably rare in the Zones, and beds didn't usually feel this clean. Thinking about it, Fun Ghoul realized he actually felt fully clean, like he had been thoroughly scrubbed and washed while he was out. 

Was he in a bunker ? Doubtful. There’d probably be more commotion and less privacy. No. The sad truth was, a room this quiet, clean, and dark could only be inside of Battery City. 

He tried to move around, but quickly realized his wrists and ankles were tied to the bed. His mouth seemed to also be covered with something. 

Thankfully, he still had access to what seemed to be a call button, so he pressed it. As he did, a faint bedside lamp lit up, letting him discern the room better. It was rather small, like a cheap hotel, but the presence of two doors suggested he had an ensuite bathroom to go with the room. The light had a yellow tint to it, but the room seemed to be entirely white. So, a hospital of sorts. 

Fun Ghoul waited, hearing faint footsteps in the distance. The restraints had basically confirmed his fear of being at the hands of Better Living Industries. What would become of him now ? Even worse question: what had happened to the others ? His heartbeat quickened as the steps got closer, and he almost jumped when someone opened the door and turned on the big light. He narrowed his eyes, almost blinded by the sudden brightness.

“Hello, Mr Iero. Glad to see you’re awake.” 

The nurse at the door seemed sweet, but he still cringed at the use of his Before name. It probably didn't feel as weird for him as it felt for the others, but in the past months, he had gotten pretty fond of the desert life and the identity that came with it. She came by his bed, and slowly unwrapped what was covering his mouth. It was gauze, and not a gag like he had thought. His mouth was free now, but he still felt he had a bandage of some sort on his left cheek. 

“Call me Frank, please.” He could barely open his mouth, and talking hurt like hell, so it came out sounding more like “Caw ‘e Fwank, ‘ease.”

“Okay, Frank,” she smiled. 

If he had to be called by his Before name, he’d rather use his first name. He had always hated formalities. 

The nurse had a little tablet she checked a couple things on, and then she asked a couple yes-no questions about how he felt, what he remembered (not much), and other things. It hurt to talk, so they also addressed that, but she didn't explain what happened and he couldn't reach to touch his cheek. He nodded or shook his head politely to answer. Ghoul figured BL/Ind could have killed him or hurt him already if they wanted to, but the fact that they didn't was a big enough hint that he needed to play along. So he did. He was cordial, honest, and refrained from grabbing her by the collar and screaming to ask where his friends were. He even omitted talking about the fight when mentioning the explosion. This seemed to work, because after a few minutes of more tablet-checking, she said : 

“I am going to untie you, okay ? But you have to promise me you won't do any sudden moves.” 

He nodded, promising he’d stay still. He almost said “like a good boy” but figured he’d save the sarcasm for higher-ups. After all, that blonde nurse may just be another relocated citizen who ended up working for BL/Ind due to lack of options, like many others. 

He waited for her to untie both his hands, and as she went for his feet, he slowly reached to stroke his face. There was a bandage indeed,  and a huge one at that, taking all of his cheek and held up by gauze all around his head. 

“What… What happened to me ?” he finally dared ask. She looked up at him with worry in her eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I have been honest, they won't tell me the details. They said you got caught up in an accident involving an explosion and you got hit by debris. There's… A piece of a car ripped a part of your mouth, Frank. I’m so sorry.” 

That checked out. He let out a quiet “Oh.” before reverting to silence. The nurse— Crystal, as he read on her nametag when she came back closer—gave him a pitiful smile, and continued to explain. 

“You’ve had surgery when you were out. It’s been… three days since the incident. (She waited for his reaction, and kept talking when she saw he nodded calmly) All of your friends are already up. I’ve heard they were not as… easy as you are, apparently,” she giggled nervously. “But they had direct BL/Ind employees take care of them, I think. They requisitioned me from the general hospital, I don't know why.” 

She apologized for rambling, saying she didn't know why she even told him all that, but he was glad she did. It felt reassuring knowing they were all alive and well, and that he apparently had it the worst. 

The “being at BL/Ind’s mercy” part was a bit less pleasant, but it wasn't like he could do anything now. They had lost. There was nothing he could do about it now. 

“Okay, I am going to leave now. A doctor will come later for further inspection,” Crystal explained, typing more things in her tablet. “You’re not cuffed anymore, but they told me to lock the door. It's stupid, but procedure, apparently. You can open the blinds and get some TV with that,” she pointed at a little tablet next to the bedside lamp. “See you, Frank.” 

“See you, Crystal,” he struggled to say. He wanted to match her energy and smile, but immediately regretted it after trying to. He stood up, and while that hurt as well, it was a tolerable pain. He paced around his room, glad to finally be able to move. After a while, he took the tablet and sat back on the bed, trying to figure out how to open the blinds. It had been a while since he used digital paraphernalia, the Desert having adopted analog as its signature, so he struggled a bit. After a few intense minutes of battling against the tablet, he had mastered every feature of the room (TV, radio, temperature, bed angle) but the damn blinds. He put the tablet away, frustrated, and suddenly, he heard a little motor roaring. The blinds were rolling up. 

He let himself fall back onto the mattress while sighing, and that's when it hit him. His gift. His gift was a fucking party trick. 

_____

Fun Ghoul wiped his mouth and sat next to the toilet. Vomiting made his cheek hurt, but not vomiting made his whole body hurt and stopped him from sleeping. 

Life in Battery City was hell. Sure, it was more comfortable, cleaner, and had more resources than they had access to for years, but what they had to endure wasn't worth it. 

First of all, they weren't allowed to see each other yet. It had been a month, and Fun Ghoul still didn't know how the other Killjoys were doing. He still had to do regular tests and evaluation, apparently. He both dreaded and couldn't wait to see them again. Adjusting to his new appearance hadn't been easy. His scar was wide, going from the corner of his lip (the slit of his mouth was now a little longer on the right side of his face) up to between his right eye and ear. He had a couple more scars around the biggest one, all of them red and puffy. His lower eyelid was a bit droopier as well, probably because the one who patched him up needed to pull on his face a little. His name had never been more fitting. Between the disfigurement, the palor and the dark cirfles under his eyes, Fun Ghoul did look undead. 

Second, he had to do all these propaganda interviews and photoshoots that made him ill. The first time, when he had refused, some girl with bright pink hair— apparently a colleague of Korse— had ripped two stitches off his cheek. Now, the wound was mostly healed, but Fun Ghoul still feared what they could do to him if he didn't comply. It wasn't that he was scared of pain or dying ( he was, but not more than anyone); but rather that he wanted to be good and hoped that someday his good behavior would pay off and allow him to see his friends again. 

He wondered what happened to them. Had they been disfigured like him ? If they hadn't, how would they react to seeing him like this ? 

Crystal was his only “friend”, and that was an exaggeration. She was just as lost as him, trying to be good and do her job. Fun was almost certain Better Living held something against her as well, something that forced her to comply, just like him. He wasn't sure if he could call her a friend, but she was some sort of ally. She'd tell him what she heard in the corridors, snuck him extra sweets two times a week and even had gotten him a notebook with some pens. That had honestly saved him from boredom. TV was shit, jerking off got old quickly, and writing songs had been hard without paper or a guitar. This notebook became his lifeline. It was a journal, a sketchbook (despite his lack of artistic skills, he tried to sketch his friends regularly), and a songwriting book all at once. He wrote about his blessing, what he could do with it, what Crystal would tell him she heard in the corridors, or just reminisce about life in the desert. 

Fun Ghoul leaned over the toilet bowl and puked some more. Today, they had him try out a white suit. Not exactly like the one dracs wore, but way too close to his liking. They just had him stand here, asked questions about his opinion on life in the City and took a bunch of pictures of him standing awkwardly. Not exactly magazine material. Those weird interviews were the rare times he was allowed to leave his room. Sometimes he left for big testing sessions that lasted the whole afternoon, but apart from that, he was pretty much imprisoned here. 

He felt himself gag once more, but nothing came out this time. His throat hurt, his tongue burned, and his cheek ached. Vomiting sucked, but he had to. Fun flushed, drank some water, splashed some on his face, and went back to the main room. 

He grabbed his notebook and went to sit on the floor, back against the bedframe. Today, he wanted to draw Merry, Party and Viper. Although still cartoony, he liked to think his drawings had improved. He had gone from stick figures to portraits, after all. 

Merry. Merry Mayhem was easy to draw. She was energetic lines and bouncy curls, she was electric, like the blue streak in her hair. He wondered where she was, if Grace was with her, and how she held up. Would she be still and obedient like him ? Or still defiant and rebel? Had they beaten her into submission? Or maybe they drugged her numb everyday. 

The portrait was pretty good. One of his best. He just almost forgot about her freckles. 

Next was Viper. He missed Viper. That one, he knew he wouldn't see anymore. The others coddled him when it came to that subject, but Fun Ghoul had made peace with it. His ex-boyfriend was probably dead. At least he was with the Witch now. Like Sally. Ghoul had known the risks when they had separated, and yes it was hard, but he had prepared himself for the possibility of Viper dying. 

Viper was more angular, except for his wavy hair. Fun Ghoul couldn't remember the exact color of his eyes, but he remembered they were kind. He had forgotten the shape of his lips, but he remembered they were soft. He was loving, gentle, funny too. That, he wouldn't forget. Viper was fast, fierce, and full of stories as well. He helped Ghoul open up, he helped him embrace the desert lifestyle. 

“The one that got away”, he writes next to the portrait. It’s wrong, it's off, but he can't place why. His memories of his face are starting to fade. He should've started drawing sooner. 

A tear fell onto the paper. He turned the page and wiped his eyes. Party Poison, he wrote on the new page. A sudden wave of nausea came over him. Snapping the notebook shut, he rushed back to the bathroom and barfed once again. He couldn't do it. Thinking about Party was painful in a different way. Fun Ghoul thought of their confession everyday. Their last one on one conversation, if you could even call it that. 

"I like you a lot, Ghoulie," they had said. “So don't you dare die on us today.” And then they hugged him, so tight, too tight for it to be friendly. 

How stupid. How stupid they had been. Of course Poison liked him, just like Fun Ghoul did. He always did, ever since they met. So why ? Why didn't they go through with it ? Why did Party run in other people's arms ? 

Fun Ghoul would never regret his relationship with Viper. It was short lived, but full of beautiful memories, hair flying in the wind, late night talks sharing cigarettes and kisses. Viper taught him to love himself. Viper taught him love, period. Fun is not sure he was in love with Viper, but he was close to it. Party, he wasn't in love with, that was for sure. He liked them, was attracted to them, for sure. But it wasn't love. And he couldn't even say it. He couldn't even discuss Party’s confession with them. Maybe if they had more time… 

But they didn't. And now he didn't have Party Poison nor Viper. Nobody to give his love to. Nobody to discuss his complicated feelings with. 

“Frank ?” he heard Crystal call out from outside. “I’m coming in.” 

Frank flushed and quickly gulped some water, trying to not be totally gross when she’d enter. He came out of the bathroom, and greeted Crystal. But something was different. Instead of her usually tired, squirmish smile, she grinned with all her teeth. 

“What’s with the joyous attitude?,” he asked. “Are you finally getting out?” 

“Better !” She said, genuinely enthusiastic. “You’re getting out! I mean, you're not locked in that room anymore. We’re still stuck in the hospital, but hey, now you can visit the floor !” 

Fun Ghoul's mouth fell open, making his cheek ache a little. What ?! After five weeks of near total isolation, he could finally see other things?! Maybe even see his friends again ! 

“Will.. Will there be…” 

“Uhm…” Crystal hesitated, “They’re not all fit to go out yet. I don't know how many of you there are honestly, but I heard that two of you will be allowed out and authorized to meet.” 

Two of them. Who could it be ? Probably not Party, they’d never be the first to crumble like he did. Maybe Jet or Kobra. Maybe Merry, if she had to, for Grace. 

“I heard his name’s Michael.” 

Fun Ghoul thought about it. It obviously wasn't Merry Mayhem, whose name was Christina, as Korse had exposed; nor Jet-Star, who Merry had previously called Ray. And if another Killjoy got out on good behavior, the chances of it being Party Poison were close to zero. So, that “Michael” had to be Kobra Kid. 

“So. Can I… I mean, how do we do this,” he stammered. 

Crystal explained with excitement that she’d show him the whole floor, he’d get to dine in the common area and meet Michael there. And from now on, their doors would be unlocked during the day, and they’d be allowed to go to each other's room. 

Now that was good news. He’d finally get to see one of his friends. His dear Kobra Kid. Kobra, Kobes, Koby, Kiddo, whatever. He was going to see him. 

Fun Ghoul was frantic as they left the room. As Crystal showed him around, he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Everything was white, as expected. But there was a nice lounge room with grey walls and a dark green couch—finally, some color. Crystal showed him the canteen, and then the two of them made their way back to the lounge room. 

“He’s inside,” she said, not pushing the door. “I’ll be leaving you two, but don't forget, curfews at nine and you’re under surveillance.” 

Ghoul nodded, and she pushed the door open to let him enter. He stepped in, letting the door shut behind him. In front of him, nervously looking down and sitting on the couch was none other than Kobra Kid. 

“So, Michael, huh ?” Ghoul didn't know what to say. He just wanted to ugly cry and scream in Kobra’s arms.

“ Hey, Frank,” he smiled, finally looking up. As their eyes met, Kobra’s eyes flashed to his cheek, and his smile melted away. He got up and practically ran to Fun to gently stroke his jaw. 

“Oh Ghoulie… I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so scared. I’m so glad they stitched you up.” 

Knowing his disfigurement wasn't that much of a surprise and was actually expected was a surprise to Fun Ghoul. He had assumed his explosion knocked everyone out, and when backup arrived, they had captured them. But apparently, the other Killjoys had seen the aftermath of the explosion, and had seen him with his face almost ripped off. So what really happened? 

“Kobes,” Ghoul felt tears well up in his eyes. “Are we okay ? All of us ? What happened?” 

Kobra smiled bittersweetly. Fun Ghoul could tell this wasn't going to be an easy conversation. His doubts were confirmed when Kid invited him to sit down before hearing his explanation. 

“It’s not pretty, okay ? But trust me, I know everyone's alive. Despite— Despite all this mess.” 

Fun Ghoul sure hoped Kobra Kid was telling the truth when saying he knew everyone was alive. Because Dr D had been crushed inside a car. Merry Mayhem had been stabbed in the stomach. Party Poison and Jet-Star had been knocked unconscious in the head. Fuck. 

“What the fuck, Kobes ?”

“Yeah, Ghoul. What the fuck.”

“But everyone’s still alive, right ?” 

“Yes, everyone is still alive,” Kobra seemed to hesitate. “Cherri, Dr D, Show and Grace are not here though. So they escaped alive, but I don't know where they are now. I think I’d know it if they died.” 

“Okay, so the five of us are there. That’s good.” 

Ghoul could do with that. His other friends were close, and if they behaved, they may get to see each other again. The two boys spent the rest of the afternoon cuddled on the couch, discussing the past weeks. Kobra Kid had apparently been subjected to the same kind of tests and interviews. His nurse was a BL/Ind direct employee, so he hadn't been as lucky as Fun in that department. However, he had been told more about Party’s state. 

“They used it to get to me, I think,” he explained. “Said i

 if I behaved, they may let us see each other. I guess Pois didn't behave.” 

“Can you blame them, though?” chuckled Fun Ghoul. “I wish I had put on more of a fight. I feel like shit.” 

“That makes two of us.” 

After a while, they went to eat. Eating outside their rooms was nice, even if the food hadn't gotten any better. Ghoul would have thought being in the Better Living headquarters would get them premium food, but apparently not. It seemed even shittier than the portions Insiders smuggled out to the Zones. 

At eight o’clock sharp, Crystal and another nurse came to pick them up. Crystal walked Ghoul to his room, and Kobra followed his own nurse. They said goodnight to one another, and that night, he finally had an okay night’s sleep. 

It took five days for Jet-Star to be allowed out, and another entire week after that  for them to finally see Party Poison. Still no news of Merry Mayhem. And while Ghoul was really happy and relieved to be with most of his friends, he still felt hollow inside, like something wouldn't heal properly in his heart. 

In that time, the Killjoys had mapped up pretty much the entire floor, and Fun Ghoul had finally figured out useful uses of his power. He could open pretty much any door that was card-activated, access restricted networks with his room tablet, and pretty much mess with anything that was digital and/or BL/Ind battery powered. As it turned out, it was better than just shutting the blinds or vaguely commanding lone dracs. 

They never discussed making an escape plan, but the thought obviously lingered in the air anytime they met. Party would get too close and ask Ghoul about what his power could do, and Kobra would whisper in between two mouthfuls when a new doctor arrived. 

The weird medical exams they were all subjected to had been reduced in numbers, and thankfully Fun Ghoul didn't have to make any more weird photoshoots. On the one hand, it had been a relief to stop with those, but on the other hand, it felt scary that they suddenly stopped without an explanation (nevermind that none of them got any explanation for those in the first place). 

Christmas came and went, the lights in Battery City getting more colorful for a few short days. Then New Year's started getting closer, and the four of them kept their heads low. New Years—January 1st— was Grace's birthday. She would be two years old. But of course, they wouldn't get to spend it with her. Neither would Merry, still missing in attendance. 

New Year's Eve came, and everything blew up. Fun Ghoul had never expected something like this. 

They were still in their little lounging room, as for once they locked them in the floor without a curfew. A few rooms were locked of course (though Ghoul could’ve opened them), but they were mostly free to roam and stay outside their rooms otherwise. Fun Ghoul was braiding Jet-Star’s hair, Party was scribbling on Ghoul’s notebook, and Kobra was moping, knees brought up to his chest. 

“Guys,” he said, his voice serious. “I need to tell you something.” 

The three others looked at him, as if to tell him to proceed. The youngest boy took a deep breath and continued, his voice slightly trembling. 

“I haven't— I lied. Ever since we came here, I’ve been lying to you all.” 

Ghoul felt his stomach drop. What ? What could Kobra have possibly lied about? Did he join BL/Ind ? The thought made him ill. 

“I— I kept things from you. I know where Merry is.” 

Fun’s brain was conflicted between feeling relieved he wasn't a spy, and worried about Merry. If Kobra knew about her demise and hadn't said a word, that would mean she’s likely…

“She’s dead, isn't she ?” Jet dared ask. “Dusted, off with the Witch.” 

Kobra looked so small. He dug his face in his knees, muffling his voice. 

“Jet, she’s alive. But she's gone. Korse, he… she… she’s a fucking drac now,” he started sobbing. 

His sibling got up and went to comfort him.  Star adjusted himself on the couch, entwining his fingers worriedly. Poison was gently hushing Kid, telling him to let it out and take his time. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I swear,” the blond kept crying. “I gave up. Korse offered me to spare everyone if I surrendered, and I had to. I thought I knew, I thought that way no one would die.”

For anyone, being draculoidized was worse than death. First of all, even if your mask was taken off, you wouldn't gain your consciousness back. The person would be still alive, but would merely remain a puppet in a body that used to have another life. Merry would be one of those puppets now. Maybe one day she’d kill one of them mindlessly. Or maybe  one of them would take her down in a hail of laser rays without even being aware it was her underneath the mask. 

“He, he took us all and let the others go. He kept his word. I thought,” he sniffed, “I thought we were safe. Prisoners, but alive. And then he… Someone paralyzed me. He made me watch as he put the mask on her. I couldn't— I wasn't able to move ! I couldn't do anything!” 

“It’s okay, Kobes. It’s okay,” Party reassured him, their voice soft. “We’ll find a way to get her back. I’m sorry you had to keep that to yourself.” 

They all knew it was impossible, but nobody had the guts to say the truth out loud. 

“Pois, you don't get it !” Kobra pushed them away, now a hint of anger in his cries. “ I gave up ! I lied to you all ! I'm the reason we’re here ! You've all- you’ve all said it over and over, that you’d rather die than give up, but I— I gave up. I let you down. And now we’re in the fucking city and Merry's a drac. I should have let us die. I should have killed myself to let the others run away. I failed you. I failed her. We all know she'd rather be dead and buried than that.” 

Sadly, Kobra was right. Merry Mayhem always talked vehemently about preferring death over anything to do with Battery City. Everyone wondered how she could have even more animosity towards them than the Venomous siblings (whose parents had been killed by BLInd, let’s not forget), but she and Jet-Star had always been very vague about their past and how they ended up in the Zones. 

However, Ghoul also felt that, with her daughter's life on the line, she'd betray all her principles. Not willingly, but the fierceness of her love to her family was second to none. 

“I’m the worst,” the blond kept sobbing. “I’m the worst fucking Killjoy. I had a decision to make and I blew it. I fucked everything up.” 

Ghoul looked at Party hesitantly, silently asking for permission to come closer. Party nodded, so Fun stood up and joined their embrace. Jet followed a couple seconds after, staying silent. 

“We’ll find a way, Kobes,” whispered Ghoul. “We’ll find a way to get out, to get back to the others. It's what May would’ve wanted.” 

“ You said you knew the others were still alive, right ? It means you made the right choice,” added Jet. 

“That's true,” sniffed Kid. “I feel like they’re alive. But I don't know if I should trust my instincts anymore. Because of that— it’s my shit intuition who put us here.” 

Party chuckled and started enumerating times Kobra’s intuition saved them or helped. Ghoul and Jet joined in, reminiscing about good times. They ended up all snuggled on one of the couches, looking back on their fondest memories. It was awfully bittersweet, but it felt good, in a way. Remembering that the white hospital walls weren't all they had ever known. There was still a life waiting for them out there. And they’d go back to it. 

____ 

An exhibit. The Killjoys were going to be turned into an exhibit. And they’d have to be there for the grand opening. 

Life in Battery City had been almost ok. For the last two weeks, they were mostly free to roam around their floor, were given more clothes (although still horrid ones) and the food got slightly better. They weren't even locked into their rooms anymore at night, resulting in lots of  bed moving, sleepovers, or just crashing in the lounge room. 

Party Poison would ask Ghoul to help them sneak out at night, sometimes. Fun complied but never followed: he couldn't let himself be this carefree. The guilt of the explosion gnawed at him. He constantly felt like maybe he could've helped, had he not blown himself up. It was like that piece of debris ripped his heart along with his mouth. 

“What do you think they’re doing?” 

Fun jumped at Star’s startling presence. While deep in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the other Killjoy. 

“Dunno. Your hair's getting long.” Jet always had beautiful long curly hair that flowed past his shoulders ever since Fun Ghoul knew him, but now it was well past the middle of his back. 

“Yours too. It fits you.” 

Fun instinctively passed a hand through his hair. Jet-Star was right, his own hair had gained some length, almost reaching his shoulders now. 

“I'm going to stay with Kobes for the night. Think you'll manage to stay up by yourself to let Pois back in ?” 

Fun Ghoul nodded, earning a thumbs up from his friend as he left. He also left to go to his own room. Letting himself drop on the bed—that huge bed he still couldn't quite get used to— he sighed, thinking about what to do. 

He opted to mess around with his gift, using his room tablet to watch surveillance cameras and try to find Party. 

Party was good at hiding amidst the sea of people and the maze of streets, but somehow, Ghoul always found him. Maybe it was part of his gift. Through machines, he was naturally guided to the answers.  He watched as Party slid into a dark alley, away from camera surveillance. Ghoul recognized the place, though, so he didn't worry that much. 

To pass the time, he browsed the internet, TV and radios, trying to hear about them. After some digging, he found an article. 

Better Living Unleashes  Desert “Killjoys” Museum : Grand Opening in two weeks ! 

Damn. 

The article painted them as four lost souls, four unstable teenagers that were too affected by the Relocation and eventually turned to terrorism. It said they had been separated from their groomers, saved and were now rehabilitated in Battery City, waiting for their first public appearance on opening day. 

What a bunch of bullshit. 

Ghoul went to take a shower to clear his mind. He had to admit 24/7 access to clean and warm water was something he had missed. Maybe the one good thing about life here. He hated everything else. How bland, how soulless it was. 

Poison came back an hour later, seemingly happy. As soon as Ghoul let them in, they started rambling about their adventure excitedly. 

“I met this kid, who’s like, totally cool. I’m surprised he barely lived in the desert, honestly. Less than a year or something. He makes his own music and I’m sure everyone would like it, he talks about gay clubs and porno droids and—” 

“ Do you run out every other night to get into random people's pants ?” 

Party stopped talking abruptly, staring at Ghoul with an indiscernible look. “Fuck you,” they mouthed, not getting back to their story. 

Fun didn't know why he said that. He was mad, mad at Party for having fun, mad at himself for everything, mad at life for the position they were in. But lately, he had been especially irritated at Party Poison, for some reason. 

The redhead turned around to leave, and Fun followed. Mindlessly, he went back to his room, and it was only when he got inside that he realized Party had also been  going to his room. 

“Do you have a problem with me ?” The singer asked. 

He didn't know what to say. Yes, no, maybe. They all were true answers. Yet none of them fit. 

Party crossed his arms, looking at Ghoul from the other side of the room. 

“I’m listening, Ghoulie. You’ve been passive aggressive for a while now. You know, you could come with me when I go out.” 

“Don't you have plenty of company already?” 

He was mean, he knew that. But he couldn't refrain himself. Like all his self hatred came out and turned to Poison instead. Like all his apathy turned into venom shot at his friend. 

“Is this what it’s about? Are you jealous, Ghoulie ?” Party asked, slowly getting closer. 

“What if I am ?” 

Party Poison smiled at him. No, no, no, Party. Don't give in, what the fuck ? You deserve better than this, he panicked. 

He was about to back out, push them away or insult them some more to get away, but before he could, Party Poison’s lips were on his. 

He kissed them back of course, against the reasonable part of his brain. He ignored the part of him that kept screaming they should just sit and talk before doing anything. That he should apologize before. But the taste of Party's lips (sweet and metallic) and their hands gripping his hair and waist make him forget everything else. It’s like suddenly, his worries faded, melting away as he melted into Party’s touch. 

Before Ghoul knew it, Poison had pushed him on the bed. That damned bed. Too clean, too soft, too big. But he couldn't care about that right now. 

Right now, the only thing on his mind was Party Poison slipping their hands under his shirt—that ugly, white shirt, and sucking at his neck. Fun could smell their hair. It smelled like soap. It smelled clean. He hated it. 

"Everything's so clean here", he managed to say, biting back a moan. "I can't get used to it. I hate it." 

Party kept his hands under his shirt but stopped the biting for a second. "Then we'll cover everything in filth." Fun Ghoul couldn't argue against that. He just wished they'd wreck the place traditionally instead of doing it with sex. Party shouldn't have sex with him. He didn't deserve it, and they shouold be above that. Yet, Fun couldn't push them away.  

He grabbed Poison's red hair and ripped him off his neck, guiding him back to his mouth. He breathed out a weak "Kiss me", and Party Poison obeyed. 

It's so intense, so good he almost forgets it's not the first time they kiss. But that first time was very far away now. They had been free, all their friends had been near, and more importantly, they had been outside in the Zones where they belonged.

"Stop thinking and just let me take care of things", said Poison as if reading his mind. Ghoul hummed in approval, and they resumed kissing. 

The redhead moved his legs so his knee could press just right in between Fun Ghoul's legs. He gripped their shoulder. The friction in his jeans was almost painful at that point. He needed release.

"Pois. Please, Pois..." 

The fucker didn't budge. Instead, they went back to kissing his neck, sometimes licking it a bit. Their hands held Ghoul in place firmly, one on his hip, the other on his shoulder. The strength he didn't know Party had did nothing to help his aching erection. 

Fun Ghoul grabbed Party's left shoulder, and pushed him towards the right side of the bed, somehow managing to get on top. He took off his shirt and shifted back a bit to take PArty’s off. He stopped and stared a bit at their bare chest, realizing it was the first time he was seeing them shirtless. 

Party Poison's chest was paler than his tanned arms and face, the demarcation around the collar and sleeve areas clear. He didn't have any tattoos, but sported many scars.  Fun traced along the biggest one, going from underneath the left side of their collarbone all the way to above their navel. It doesn't feel right. He shouldn't get to see this. He doesn't deserve that. 

" The Evacuation," is all Party offered as an explanation. Fun Ghoul didn't push it, deciding to wiggle himself out of his jeans instead. He got off Poison and said "Your turn." Party took their pants off as well, and now they were both seated on the bed, face to face in nothing but their boxers and socks. 

It felt weird, being that unclothed in front of someone other than a doctor. He was cleaner than he had been in years, and yet he felt so, so dirty. Merry was gone, their adult friends somewhere unknown, the four of them were trapped in Battery City and forced to be show monkeys. Fun Ghoul felt like he should do something more productive, like train his gift even more, get in the good graces of more nurses, or plan an escape in general but no. Instead, he was about to have sex. Like a coward trying to forget about his situation.

"Weird request but, can I top ?" Poison seemed hesitant. 

"Why would it be weird ? I don't mind." 

"No, you're right. It's just," he sighed "it's been a while since I topped someone." 

"Are there that few bottoms in the Zones that you couldn't find any ? ," he joked. Party stopped and frowned. 

"You're really slut-shaming sometimes, do you know that ?" 

They were right. He had to admit he had insulted his friends more than once. Maybe he was bitter they all got laid more often than him. Even Kobra, who didn't sleep with people, always had different dates to the parties they used to go to. Once again, Party should back down, go with someone else, someone who’s not a jerk. But they stay. 

"Force of habit, I guess." 

"Huh." 

What a stupid thing to say. But it was too late to take it back. Poison just sat on the bed. 

"I'm clean, by the way. You're probably surprised, Mr Good-Christian boy, but yeah, the Zones' slut doesn't have any STD's,"he gritted his teeth. " Thank you Better Living for the panel, I guess." 

"M'sorry, okay ? I don't really think you're a slut, Pois. And I'm clean too. Thank you Better Living," he echoed in a fakely sweet voice. 

"Just," Party breathed out. " Take off your boxers and get over here on all fours." 

Fun hadn't expected them to take the lead that way, but he was happy to turn off his brain and leave that awkward conversation behind.  He took off his boxers in a way that was probably the least sexy way ever, almost tumbling. 

"On all fours, I said," ordered the redhead. "Ass up, face down." 

Who was he to refuse ? He got into position, and spread his legs a bit. Ghoul felt Poison's hands trace along his calves, thighs, ass, and even his waist. 

"You're really pretty, you know ?" he heard them say. "It almost makes up for the fact that you're an asshole sometimes." 

He felt Party press over him, their waist against his ass, hands grabbing his hips. One of their hands slowly made its way over Fun's lower stomach, sending a chill all over his body. 

"You're an ass too, sometimes. We could've done that for way longer if you didn't leave me hanging to mess around with—" 

Poison grabbed his dick firmly, making him moan and stop talking. Fun buried his head into the pillow as his partner started stroking him, trying to muffle his moans. He hadn't realized how much he had craved being touched by someone else. 

"That's what I thought," Party muttered. There was no snark in his voice, it was just an observation. 

The way they stroked him felt like punishment, but he didn't even deserve that. He didn't deserve pleasure and anything that would come from Poison, even punishment, would be pleasurable. He should be beaten, left to die alone, or draculoidized. 

And yet, he couldn't stop thrusting, accompanying Party’s hand in order to get even more friction.  It was a bit dry, but it was so good. So intense. 

Poison stopped and took his hand off Ghoul’s leaking cock. Ghoul whined, already missing the sensation. 

“You bastard,” Party hissed. “You're just jealous. I bet it’s not even about wanting me, you're jealous I get laid more than you.” 

Bullseye. Except it was also about wanting Party. 

“Well guess what, Frankie,” they spat out. “You're not the only one that’s depressed. It’s not my responsibility to stop you from being a bitch.” 

Fun Ghoul’s head snapped back at the use of his Before name. He knew he deserved the heat, he knew he didn't deserve pleasure, but that was a new low. Using before names was a threshold that only those who knew each other Before dared to cross with one another. 

“What the fuck ?,” he whispered. 

“It's not fair if you take out your self hatred on me and I can't retaliate, dude. God, you’re so selfish sometimes.” 

“Selfish ?,” Ghoul choked out. (He was a selfish asshole, but an even bigger hypocrite),  He turned around, half laying but supporting his upper body with his forearms. His hard dick was on full display, but he couldn't care less.“You toy with me, introduce me to your group only to friendzone me and mess around, then you get mad when I get a boyfriend and— yes, you were so obviously mad,” He cut them off before they could speak. “And then, you make a pass at me before what was basically a suicide mission. So what, I'm supposed to just wait for you to be focused on me and be totally available for you at all times? And now, now that you have me and I'm not totally swooning over you, you decide I'm not good enough ?”

He knew he had to get punished, somehow. But the thing was, it shouldn't have come from Party Poison. It should've come from the Witch, from the sky, it should’ve been BL/Ind torturing him or another explosion finishing the job. Not… that.

Party bit his lips, scowling. 

“Cat got your tongue, Gerard ? Or what, you’re too focused on my dick ? I bet you’d be.” 

He had expected Party to stand up and leave, to spit on him maybe, but not a full fist to the face. The blow was sudden and strong, so strong the pain overpowered the pleasure of Party mounting him to reach his face. The pain spread all throughout his face from his nose, thankfully on the non-scarred part of his face. They were holding him down, straddling his hips and using their thighs to immobilize him. Fun Ghoul wanted to grab them by the collar, but they were both shirtless, so he reached out and yanked his red hair. Hard. 

Poison groaned, lowering their head to follow his opponent’s movement. They dug their face into Fun’s neck, and bit. 

The noise he made was something between a cry of pain and a moan. Still, he slapped Poison then pushed them away, making them roll over to the end of the bed against the wall. Ghoul sat back, waiting. Staring at the other, he didn't wipe the blood dripping from his nose. He didn't rub against the painful bite. 

Party had his hair falling over his face, his back against the wall, half laying down. 

“Are you done ?,” Fun asked flatly. No answer. “Motherfucker, are you done ?” 

Party let his head fall down and scoffed. 

“This is dumb. We’re so fucking stupid.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, scooting closer to kiss the top of their head. “Now I need you to fuck me stupid, though.” 

That earned him a chuckle from the vocalist. “You’re so corny, Ghoulie,” they tried to sound mocking, but as they looked up, Ghoul didn't see judgment in his eyes. It was like they were back in the Zones, laughing the night away and tossing empty beer cans at each other. It's another stupid, pointless thing that they do in this bedroom, but it felt like home. 

When their lips met once again, it was nothing like they had done before. The excitement of something new wasn't there, and the bitter desperation of earlier was gone. Now this was different, it was more honest, more vulnerable. All of their kisses had been passionate, but this one had something… more. Party parted Ghoul’s lips to slip their tongue in his mouth, all while running their hands all over his body. It’s fast and desperate, like they could be separated any moment. Ghoul let himself enjoy the touch, holding onto Poison’s head to keep them close. They let themselves fall to the side, and keep kissing, now laying face to face on the bed. Party rose a leg and wrapped it around Fun, pulling his hips closer to their other thigh. Immediately, Ghoul started rolling his hips, needier than ever. 

His partner’s right hand slid to his ass, grabbing it firmly, then moving to stroke in between his cheeks, around his rim. Fun Ghoul kept kissing Party Poison, all while moaning in the embrace, a mix of drool and blood being spread all over his face. 

Poison was the first to back away for a second. 

“It’s kinda hot,” they slurred. “The blood.” 

“Motherfucker,” Ghoul slurred back. “If you have a blood kink you have just aaa-” 

Party had pushed a knuckle through his entrance, interrupting his flow of speech. They pushed their finger further until it was well inside Fun. The lack of lubrication made it burn a bit, but they were too far gone to think about being proper and comfortable. Fun Ghoul was beaten up and bloody, for the Witch’s sake. He buried his face into the older boy’s neck, holding onto their shoulders. Party held him close with his other arm wrapped around his back. 

“Relax, Ghoulie. You okay ?”

He nodded. After a while, Party slowly slid their finger out, then gently pushed Ghoul to position him on his back. Poison came to sit in between his legs, spreading them and teasing his entrance with two fingers this time. 

Fun grabbed a pillow to smash his face into it, trying to muffle his sounds. It had been a while since he had been touched like this, and even longer since he had let himself fall apart like this. Even with Viper, he kept watch, stayed vigilant of what surrounded them. But here, what did he have to be afraid of ? Living with the enemy, there was no more way they could get to him. 

Party continued to fuck him gently with his fingers, holding his thigh down with their other hand. 

The firmness of their grip, the overwhelming sensation of their fingers filling him up sent Ghoul over the edge. Stammering, struggling to speak, he tried to warn Party as he came. He couldn't even get through a sentence, his orgasm making him lose track of his words. 

Poison continued to finger fuck him through it, although a bit more gentle now. They then slowly slipped their fingers out, looking at a panting Fun Ghoul with a satisfied smirk. 

“You’re ready for me to fuck you now ?” 

Fun Ghoul gathered what little strength he had left and threw the pillow at Party’s face, playfully. They threw it back at him, laughing lightly. Fun’s heart fluttered. 

“So, do you want me on all four or…” 

“No. Stay like that, I want to see you.” 

Fun Ghoul hated how it almost felt romantic. He hated how he was ready to indulge in said romanticism even more. But he couldn't— couldn't pretend to love Party when he did not. 

Party had taken his boxers off and was now stroking along the length of his cock, his soft gaze watching over Ghoul fondly. It wasn't fair. 

Poison settled in between Fun’s legs, holding their cock to tease his entrance. 

“Wait,” Ghoul said. Party Poison froze, looking up. “I just… You should know I … can't… love you the same. Not like you do.” 

Party gave him a weak smile, as if he had expected it. 

“I know,” they said. “I know, Ghoulie.” 

Poison’s dick entering him felt like both comfort and punishment. They leaned over him, holding their weight with their forearms. Both of them were panting, Ghoul getting used to the stretch and Party to the tightness, probably. Poison started to roll his hips slowly, sinking further inside Ghoul. Fun gripped Party’s shoulder from the back, letting out shaky breaths as pleasure overwhelmed him. 

Party Poison pressed a kiss to his forehead, and started thrusting back and forth slowly. Fun Ghoul whimpered, dizzy like the stretch and the burn inebriated him. 

The bliss almost washed away his other feelings. Guilt, anger, self-hatred. Almost. But Party Poison's moans and the feeling of being filled by their dick sadly weren't enough to completely forget the situation. The thrusts gott progressively faster, deeper, and he wished they would continue to exponentially grow in speed and strength until he wouldn't be able to take it anymore. He wished Party would take it too far, and destroy him.

“Ruin me,” he said, without meaning to. Poison groaned, their grip tightening and their rhythm gaining in intensity. 

If Fun wasn't already spent, this would have made him cum on the spot for sure. His partner kept hitting where it felt right, where it felt the most intense, where it felt too much. It was perfect. Pleasure to the point of feeling painful. Blissfulness to the point of being in discomfort. Nuzzling his face in Party’s neck, he bit, hard, earning a moan that was almost animal-like. Poison went even quicker, but he was losing rhythm in his thrusting. They were close, Fun Ghoul could tell. 

“Give me all of you,” he urged, moaning in their ear. 

That seemed to be all Party needed. Moaning loudly, they gave slow, strong thrusts to get through their own orgasm. And then, they collapsed next to Fun Ghoul. 

“Thank you,” he said after a minute of nothing but their breaths echoing in the room. 

“For what ?,” Poison asked, breathless. 

“I’m not sure. Just, thank you.” 

He was thankful, or at least he thought he was. Maybe he just felt guilty. Maybe all this was just pity sex to feel like he had power over Party. Maybe it was to force himself to fall in love with them. 

“Let me tell you something, you asshole,” Poison began, still panting. “On the day of the exhibition, we’re gonna get out.” 

Fun Ghoul trusted him.