A/N: I'm finally back, with new access on my laptop as well as more time on my hands. New story here is about how things went in my head, post-SING video. It involves Killjoys, adventure, and alternating viewpoints (kind of) that are written better than in the past. I'm also hoping to get my other stories back under control and such, but one thing at a time, right?
My Chemical Romance fic, Killjoys involved. Starting with more like Gerard's point of view, so here ya go!
As Gerard lay there, wondering how it had all gone wrong, he drifted. In and out of consciousness - in and out, back and forth, conscious and unconscious, aware and not aware. There were moments of lucidity during which he could feel the cold, hard floor under his back, remembered the exact moment when he'd been shot, or hearing Korse give the order to his Scarecrows to give chase to "them." There was a lot of black, and although he tried, he could not manage to lift his head, or even open his eyes, because any action felt as though it would kill him. He even struggled to breathe, and had to give it great thought in order to succeed.
When he wasn't thinking of breathing, he was busy struggling to come to terms with his death, which he had realized was virtually inevitable. There was an extreme unlikelihood that he would live beyond this day, and he was trying his best to resolve with that. It was hard to admit it, but he was avoiding it too, so as to milk every living moment, every single breath, for all that it could be worth to a dying man. He thought of how he had yet to be moved, or how Korse had mot verified his death. He wondered if Frank, Mikey and Ray had gotten away safely with the Girl (Grace). He thought of how strange it was he was still lying there. And he breathed slowly in and out, savoring it and wondering what it would be like when he finally stopped breathing, when his heart was no longer beating. Would he join his parents in some afterlife, or would it all just go black and be done with? He wondered too which would be better - living beyond death, or just dying and never inhabiting the world again.
The cold seeped into his back, and he wondered, detached, how long he might wait before being dispatched. Would he die from lying prone for hours, or because Korse would come back and discover his failing? Either fate would end the same, but one would be slightly more glorious. He felt as though, if he waited long enough, he might be forced to kill himself. He wondered how much strength he would have to gather to be successful. He found himself calculating how long he might wait before he lost his mind and killed himself, and how much willpower he would need to be successful in such a cowardly endeavor.
And then he heard voices, after a large amount of time had passed. At least, he believed it was a large amount of time, although he could not be sure.s distinctly male, and guessed that his life was close to its end. Never would he have been able to guess at what transpired next.
He heard a female voice, near him. Low to the ground. Wondered briefly what female it could be. Any he knew was unlikely, but...Suddenly, he could feel everything. He was no longer numb in his extremities, and it didn't feel as though he was being pressed flat between a huge block of lead and the floor. He felt his arms, his legs...Everything. And as his eyelids fluttered, he felt the ashes damp against his face and the small, scattered pieces of flesh against his skin. He hoped like hell that wasn't his friends' flesh, even as he opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, and he took a few moments to allow himself to adjust to the sudden change from black to light. As his eyes focused, although not completely, he found that he was looking up at a person who, when his eyes opened, smiled.
an instant later, he became acutely aware of the pain from Korse having shot him. The feeling of the ray gun blast left him recalling that, right now, he could have been dead. He should have been dead, in fact. And yet, whoever this strange, blurry person in front of him was, had spared him. He really hoped that she wasn't saving him only to enslave him instead. He knew that if that was the case, he would kill himself. He would rather die by his own hand than suffer under Korse's rule.
He noticed the weak sunlight, and realized it was already morning. This was followed by the recognition of a gentle, morning breeze, and something that felt quite a lot like dew spread evenly over his skin. He felt sticky and disgusting, like how he'd felt after sleeping outdoors the entire night as a teenager. And many nights since, but usually it was only his face. Usually, when he slept outdoors an entire night, he had a blanket, and some warning. And he recognized too that he had hardly slept...Then the girl he couldn't quite see caught his eye. She murmured something he couldn't quite understand, and he felt a hand, gentle on his arm for a brief moment, before she rose and moved out of his line of sight. He closed his eyes, and felt a great amount of peace before drifting out of consciousness.
A/N: In closing, please try to read and review if you get a chance, and check back for more if you happen to like it! (: Thanks for reading my peeps. Check y'all later...
