Look aliiiiiive, sunshine…

A shrill, girlish shriek rang up as the radio burst to life, starting Five-Leaf Clover awake. It was so dark that it took him a minute to gather that he was awake, the static-ridden voice of Dr. Death Defying filling the room. The only light available was the small flashlight clamped between Blaster Shell's teeth.

"YOU DID IT! TURN IT UP, BLASTER! TURN IT UUUUUUP!"

109 in the sky but the pigs won't quit. You're here with me, Dr. Death Defying...

Paranoia laughed and hopped up and down, jostling Blaster Shell's arm excitedly, prompting a grin from him. "Hey! You awake, Clover? Blast got the radio working!"

I'll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter, pumpin' out the slaughtermatic sounds to keep you live.

"I can hear that," Clover mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He felt achy and sore from sleeping in such a weird position on that cramped, uncomfortable couch, wishing he had taken up Halo's offer to share the bed before Liberation had. He was hot too, covered in sweat. The room was dark and sweltering, but what else could be expected from a house in the middle of the desert with no electricity?

The little figure of Paranoia and the hulking shadow of Blaster Shell were hunched over Blast's beat up radio, silly grins plastered on their faces that were illuminated only by the flashlight as they whispered the words along with the man on the radio.

A system failure for the masses, anti-matter for the master plan. Louder than God's revolver and twice as shiny…

"What time is it? I thought I told you two not to stay up until the crack of stupid?" Paranoia rolled her eyes at Clover's parental chastising and skipped over, offering her best friend a hand.

This one's for all you rock 'n' rollers…

"Yeah? We listen to you a lot, don't we?" Clover accepted her help, getting to his feet. His legs were stiff and his back hurt. He rolled his shoulders, irritated. "You know we needed the radio fixed. We need to keep in touch with the Killjoys!"

All you crash queens and motor babies…

"Sure. Anything happening?" Clover looked over at his friend, expecting a status report.

Listen up!

"Not at the crack of stupid, no." Blaster Shell stuck the wrench in his hand back in his tool belt, hiking it up to his waist before taking the flashlight out of his mouth and switching it off, leaving them all in complete darkness. They had to save batteries, as much of a pain as it was. Batteries were hard to come by when you were out-of-action. "Pleasant dreams, Captain?"

The future is bulletproof!

"Full of your smiling face, Blast. Alright, anyone else up for a bit of shut-eye?"

The aftermath is secondary!

"I'm good for now. So you can come for a walk with me, Clover." Paranoia felt around for him in the darkness, hugging him tight when she found him. It was too hot for this kind of interaction, but Paranoia seemed not to care.

"Sure, we can do that. You going to get some shut-eye, Blast?"

It's time to do it now and do it loud!

"I'd say so. We headin' out at dawn?" Blaster Shell dragged a hand over his forehead, mumbling something about the heat as he picked his way over to the couch.

Killjoys, MAKE SOME NOISE!

Paranoia squealed again, twirling Clover around to the beat of the momentary music that erupted loudly from the radio before Blast rushed back to pick it up, switching it off. He looked around nervously, in case he might have woken someone. But there was no sound coming from the bedroom, so apparently not. "Aw man! C'mon Blast! That was my favourite song."

"Tough luck." The couch groaned under Blaster Shell's weight as he curled up on it. He was way too big for this couch, most of the boys were. One of his arms and one of his legs hung over the side.

"You killjoy." Paranoia took a minute to stick her tongue out in his general direction before grabbing for Clover's hand. "G'night baby. How 'bout that walk now, Clover?"

"Lead the way."

"Get your gun and meet me by the door," Paranoia giggled, walking off, feeling her way out of the room by walking along the wall.

Clover took a minute to go over to the window, parting the blinds and peeking out. The cloudless sky was oil black, littered with millions of stars and a huge full moon. He scanned the area, looking for any signs of movement, but there was none in the shadows. Everything looked pretty safe.

"Y'all take care now, okay?" Blast muttered as Clover left the room.

"Sure thing," the other Killjoy replied.

Molotov Cocktail was asleep on the bottle strewn porch when Five-Leaf Clover and Paranoia stepped out into the stuffy desert night, drenched in sweat and snoring lightly. Clover nearly tripped over him, but he didn't wake up.

There was a very small chance that he would have woken up anyway, as he was probably drunk. Instead, he just muttered and rolled over, hugging his shotgun closer. He still had his jacket on, and his boots and all his weapons. It was impractical in this heat, but Molotov wasn't known for his intelligence.

Clover stepped over him carefully, taking one last look around before stepping off the porch. "He's such an idiot," Paranoia giggled, hopping over the sleeping man. "He's going to be all sore when he wakes up. Ha. If he complains about it I'm gonna shoot him in the foot. I hope he finds a scorpion in his jacket or something." Paranoia held the lantern up, illuminating her face. Her cyanide blue hair changed the colour of the light, grey eyes shining crazily. "Don't you?"

'We need him too much," Clover admitted, looking back at the stationary soldier lying on the porch. "… Even if he is a psycho."

"Sucks." Paranoia set down her lantern and hugged him tightly again, leaning her head on his chest. "Toxy told me we're back in-action tomorrow. Is that why we're going?"

Clover hesitated, mentally cursing Liberation. He had meant to tell everyone in the morning, but… He nodded slowly, watching the maniacal grin spread over her face.

Their leave was up. They'd been out-of-action, living in this run down house for a month now. Training and resting and not doing much of anything, so it would be pretty nice to get back to work. His Division Four would back at the Apartments by tomorrow. Back in action, killing Draculoids and fighting for freedom. The family business.

Their job wasn't terrible. It sounded pretty intense because of the killing, and it could be intense, but none of them minded it at all. Hell, some of them loved what they did, Molotov especially, and it felt good to know that they were helping people.

None of the Killjoys wouldn't be out here if they weren't prepared to die for their homeland, or if they weren't utterly dedicated to their cause. But it was dangerous out there for a Killjoy in the Zones. Anyone could tell you that.

Well, anyone who wasn't a drug-happy zombie of pure perfection. But that's what they were saving everyone from. Becoming BL/ind's slave.

Paranoia herself quite liked being out there, shooting up Dracs for freedom, and fancied herself to be an excellent shot at it. It was a thrill, better than the life she would have had if she'd stayed in Battery City by a long shot. She liked being alongside her fellow Killjoys, the members of her own division, the Fourth Division, and the First and Second Division fighting side-by-side.

Anyone would be proud to fight alongside Party Poison's Division.

Being in-action worried Clover quite a bit. He'd seen what happened to Killjoys who weren't careful, who were shot down or captured and taken to Battery City.

Killjoys who returned from BL/ind Headquarters in Battery City were never the same, wide eyed and white faced. They screamed in the middle of the night and broke down crying at random. They never spoke of the horrors of Battery City, and there was nothing to do to fix them.

Clover couldn't imagine that happening to anyone around him. To Halo, to Liberation, to Paranoia… He could lose his best friends. The threat was very real.

"You okay?" Paranoia was looking at him worriedly, a slight frown tugging her mouth down. Clover blinked out of his trance and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry," he mumbled, letting his eyes wander. He'd managed to bring himself down again, and he felt bad about it. He was supposed to be happy when Paranoia was around, and usually he was. He didn't want to worry her.

"I know you worry about us, but you really shouldn't. Worrying so much isn't good for you."

"Can't help it. You're all so easy to worry about."

Paranoia lifted his chin, smiling when he met her eyes. "We have the second most amazing leader in the Zones. I'd say we're pretty safe."

"You're too kind, really."

The girl scrunched up her nose and gave his dark green bangs a tug. "You're too modest Clover. You haven't even lost a man yet!"

"And what happens if I do?" They lapsed into anxious silence, both finally taking the gravity of the situation in. Clover, as their leader, always had to worry about this; he'd have to face the guilt if anything bad happened. He didn't want Paranoia to have to. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine. Come on, walk with me. It'll make you feel better." Paranoia took his hand and led him off in a random direction. Her other hand rested on the navy and white ray gun in a holster on her side. They left the lantern behind, walking out into the darkness.

Breakfast was often chaos in the three bedroom house they called their temporary home. Their vacation home, for Killjoys off-action or when things got a little too heated in the Zones.

When the entire Fourth Division, all seven of them, packed into the tiny kitchen, the feeling was claustrophobic and sticky with heat. The sun was still coming up, and already it was sweltering in the cramped kitchen. It was much more chaotic a morning than usual when Clover came back from his fifteen-minute nap. Excitement over going back in-action and a buzz of caffeine and exhaustion.

When Clover walked in, Toxic Liberation mumbled a sleepy good morning, handing him a cup of cold coffee in a chipped mug. He then had to break the bad news, that the coffee was the last of it until they got back to the Apartments. This news was disheartening. Clover stood solemnly in the doorway beside Liberation, downing his coffee, fully aware that he should be savouring it, too agitated to actually do so.

Blaster Shell was at the table, chatting excitedly with Paranoia at the kitchen table, fiddling around with their radio. A slow country song was playing, and Blaster was singing along, off key, Paranoia laughing and hitting him on the arm, begging him to stop. He sang a bit louder and she shut him up with a kiss, prompting a groan and an eye roll from Ectoplasm and a smile from Halo.

Halo Avenger was sitting silent as ever across from them beside Ectoplasm, who was eating Cheerios out of the box they were sharing. Cheerios were a delicacy now, something you could only really find off-action, in old houses that nobody had raided yet. There had been a lot of outside food in here before they arrived, a bit of the world before BL/ind.

Ectoplasm was signing to Halo lazily with one hand, something that made her laugh. He and Liberation were the only ones who could really speak to her, to the girl who couldn't hear anything. They were only ones who knew any sign language at all. It was too much work to speak to her normally, so the two interpreted for her when it was needed.

Molotov Cocktail made an irritated sound and got up from his seat on the floor in the corner when he saw Clover. He grumbled all the way to the door, shoving past Clover out into the hall. The Killjoy leader paid him no mind, because that's what Molotov did. He acted immature and aggressive to everyone he believed was inferior to him, which was basically everyone but Divisions One and Two. It got worse when he was tired, or had a hangover, and sleeping drunk out on the porch had not helped anything.

"You guys all packed up?" Clover asked, downing the rest of his coffee and setting the mug on the counter. He felt a bit more awake now, but also more agitated. Ectoplasm signed for Halo, and she looked over at Clover with a smile and a nod. Ectoplasm nodded too, stuffing another handful of Cheerios in his mouth.

"… I'll go do that." Paranoia hopped to her feet, scurrying out of the room. Blaster Shell got up too, because heaven forbid she be alone for more than three seconds. Clover tried not to let it bother him too much, but he felt significantly more agitated. Liberation saw it and nudged him with a foot.

"Is the car all ready? I could help you get all the stuff in," He offered, but Clover just shook his head.

"Nah. Just make sure Halo's alright, 'kay?"

"Will do." Liberation clapped him on the shoulder and went to sit beside the other girl at the table.

Clover decided against another public address, and shoved off without another word.

Two hours later, after a mishap with the car and a bloody nose resulting from a brawl between Molotov Cocktail and Toxic Liberation, they were on their way, Clover at the wheel. It was always a tight fit in their car, him and Liberation in the front, Paranoia, Halo Avenger and Blaster Shell crammed in the back. Ectoplasm and Molotov Cocktail were on Molotov's bike, speeding along beside them.

Thinking about his Ectoplasm being anywhere near the drunk psychopath bugged Liberation to no end as he sulked in the front seat, holding a hand grudgingly to his nose. "If he so much as touches my brother… I swear to god."

Clover laughed. "Oh, let them be. He's not gonna do anything."

"He's a bad influence, Clover."

"Aren't we all?"

It was nice to be on the road again, driving with the windows down with wind ripping through the car and loud music blaring from the radio. It was a really familiar sensation, and the closest sense of home and family that they were ever going to get.