Chapter Four

Sing It For The World

The sun was actually burning into him, or at least that's what it felt like as Poison slowly came to, his head throbbing. He mumbled several curses, struggling to his knees but unable to get much further than that. He ached terribly, but it confused him to realize it was much less than he would have expected after being nearly killed by the BLI agents.

"Jet—" he coughed from the dust kicked up from his jerky movements, clenching his teeth and crawling to the nearest Killjoy, slipping the helmet he'd had on off his head. "Wake up..."

Jet did not stir for a few moments, then groaned loudly, turning his head, his brow furrowing.

"Jet, please, get up, we have to—"

"Party…"

Poison glanced behind him to his younger brother, who winced and then opened his eyes, forcing himself to sit up after a moment, blinking at him. "What…?"

"Wake him up!" Poison gestured at where his boyfriend was sprawled on his stomach a few yards back, and, with another cringe from moving, Kobra managed to make his way over to him.

Poison watched him for a moment, concerned and hoping Ghoul was as unharmed as they were. He waited until Kobra had shaken his shoulder, successfully getting a soft moan from him, and then he turned his attention back to Jet, seeing his eyes were now open and on him as he managed to ask, "You okay?"

"Sure. Are you?"

Jet sat up and carefully moved his limbs, wincing and yet feeling nothing more than some bruises and a lingering ache. "Yeah, actually—I don't feel like I was shot."

"I don't, either," the red head replied, frowning despite the fact that was a good thing. He looked at his brother and then his boyfriend as he lifted himself up a bit and raised his head, blearily looking back at him, dazed but alive nonetheless. They were perfectly fine; in fact, the sunburn the four had gotten due to being still for so long was about the worst injury any of them had.

"Where's Missile?" Ghoul finally asked, and Poison closed his eyes briefly. "They took her."

"Damn it…" Jet muttered, getting to his feet, and then frowned. "What the hell's going on? They could have killed us—I thought for sure they had."

"Then he wasn't trying to." Kobra said, standing along with the other two. "He wanted the girl, and he stunned us. That's it."

"But," Ghoul wondered aloud, "why wouldn't he just get rid of us while he had the chance?"

"Doesn't matter," Poison shook his head, determination overcoming his weariness. Without hesitation, he turned and began walking back towards the camp they'd made before, and after a moment the others did, too.

When they finally reached where the fire had once been burning, they found that, thankfully, their car was still parked where they'd left it, obviously now unguarded, and nothing that belonged to them had been taken.

"…et Star…ou ther—?"

The four turned instantly towards the burst of static and half formed words, and Jet bent down next to the radio, taking the phone. "Dr. D?" he called into it, hardly expecting a response, let alone one they could understand.

"Hey! Kid!" the Doc's voice finally steadied. "Jesus, we've been trying to reach you for hours!"

"We got attacked, Doc." Jet sighed, looking at Poison as he spoke, noticing the small flinch he gave when he added, "They have Missile Kid."

There was silence for around ten seconds, and they almost believed they'd lost the connection again, but then Dr. D answered. "Sorry. I tried to keep 'em back, but they got away."

"Wasn't your fault," Jet replied. "It was Korse."

"And he's going to pay for it." Poison murmured without realizing it, but he met their gazes strongly, unwaveringly.

"Where are you?" Dr. D continued. "Are you hurt?"

Jet looked at the radio again. "Nah, we're fine. And we're—" He cut off as the phone was suddenly yanked out of his grip, and he heard Party finish his sentence, not with the words he'd meant.

"And we're going to get Missile back. Right now."

"Go to BLI? Alone? That's sui—"

"If we leave her there overnight, who knows what they'll do to her?" The Killjoy glanced at the others, who had understanding and agreeing looks on their faces. "Are you guys with me?"

"Of course," Ghoul immediately replied, and Kobra nodded. "I am, too."

Jet sighed and then gave a small, exhausted smile. "All the way," he said.

"All right, kid," Dr. D sighed, having heard them. "We'll meet you there, then. First sign of danger and we're getting you the hell out of there."

"Fine," Poison replied, and then added, "See ya." He did not release the phone however, thinking deeply, and the others watched his expression turn even more solemn. "If we don't—" he stopped, hesitated, then swallowed hard. "Just make sure you get Missile out, okay? No matter what happens."

"Will do," the Doc said after a moment, and Poison clicked the phone back on to the radio, staring at the drawing the girl had put on it. He'd promised he wouldn't let anything happen to her, and yet, look what position she was in now! Who knew what those bastards could try and convince her of? She was strong-minded, but so had been some of the Killjoys they'd seen captured before, and none had been heard from again.

Standing, Poison looked at the others, never once thinking he was forgetting something potentially dangerous, entirely focused on Missile Kid.

"Let's go."


"Everything the Killjoys have told you is wrong. Do you understand?"

Missile Kid glared at the Asian woman in front of her, dressed in an un-colorful business suit and acting as if the ten-year-old was honestly going to believe her, speaking almost like she was her teacher.

"What you keep telling me is wrong!" Missile rolled her eyes. "You've been saying that for an hour! I don't trust you, and I never will!"

"You're so young." the woman said. "You could still live a normal life. Just cooperate with us, please." She eyed her carefully, adding, "And you don't have a chance of escape, anyway."

Missile stared at the woman. She'd introduced herself, when Missile had been led into the office-like room, as Newsagogo. She was the spokeswoman for BLI, whom Missile had seen before on television in her parent's house advertising medications and such, but she did not seem as violent as the other agents in the building—Korse and the Dracs and everyone else. At least, not from what she had seen. But she was just as crazy as the rest of them, even more so because she really was convinced she would be able to change the girl's thought process.

"Never," Missile said finally.

"We don't know the meaning of that word here," News countered, smiling.

"Mm, okay. It means, not now, or ever. Do you understand?" Her voice mocked the exact way the woman had said the same thing to her before.

With a sigh that was slightly exasperated, News sat back in her chair. Missile remained stiffly upright in hers, afraid to let her guard down for even the briefest moment. She made eye contact with the woman, and did not break it until she looked away herself, standing impatiently. "Maybe we can get you to change your mind over something to eat, hmm?"

Missile forced herself to keep silent, though the thought of real food enticed her.

Apparently sensing some sort of emotion shift, News smiled in a sickly sweet way. She walked over to her, took her wrist, and gently pulled her to her feet, leading her out of the room. As she passed a Drac, she whispered into the thing's ear, something Missile could not make out, and then smiled as it went off. "How would you like something other than dog food for once, hmm?" She looked at her.

"I—" Missile clamped her lips together, angry she could have even started to reply with anything but a firm no.

But, she was really hungry…

Don't even think about it!

News again smiled, seemingly amused at her inward conflict, which she was completely unaware was very noticeable. "You will not mind it, then? Good. Let's go." she said quickly, leading the girl down the hall.

Thirty minutes later—what felt like a year—Missile was still sitting in the chair the woman had pulled out for her, staring at the untouched food in front of her, then up at News, and back in a slow, repetitive cycle. The woman had finished by now, and looked at Missile, very much having noticed her not eating before but pretending as if she hadn't. "Oh, that was wonderful, don't you think?"

Missile bit her tongue to prevent herself from repeating what she had previously said to Korse, and News feigned she just then saw her plate was still full of food. "You didn't eat? Why?"

"You're screwing with my head already," Missile replied after a moment. "I won't let you make that easier."

News looked taken aback. "You think we put something in your food?"

"Why not?" Missile leaned back finally, but it was in more of a sardonic way than her actually relaxing. "If you drugged away my emotions, I'd be easier to convince. I'm not stupid enough to fall for it."

News smirked and shook her head. "Those Killjoys told you some very interesting things about us, didn't they?"

"Not much. Other than what I already knew; that being you're brainwashing everyone without a second thought."

"We prefer the term correcting," News replied, dabbing her lips with a napkin. "And it is not a bad thing we are trying to do."

"Not a bad thing!" Missile scoffed loudly, crossing her arms and taking on the most sarcastic tone News had ever heard. "No, no 'cause ripping the emotions out of people and planting fake happiness in 'em instead is totally how people are supposed to live." She rolled her eyes. "Keep telling yourselves that."

News sighed and shook her head once again. "You'll be able to understand soon. Very soon, in fact."

"You assholes will never brainwash me." Missile growled. "No matter what you do, or what you say, I will never believe anything you do is right!"

"Little girls should not be speaking like that," News scolded.

"Killjoys do whatever the hell they want."

"And that attitude—ugh! What would your father think?"

"How about, I don't care?"

"I'm sure you will change your mind. He will be with you shortly."

Missile nearly got another curse out, having just about had it with this woman, but before she could, a strident alarm went off, causing her to flinch and News' attention to immediately leave her, though she still grabbed her, pulled her away from the table, and dragged her out of the dining room.

Missile attempted to get out of her grasp, but gave up when she finally realized it was pointless. Where exactly did she expect to run to, even if she did get away? It had been made very clear by both News and her own eyes that the place was swarming with armed Dracs, that she definitely could not fight against. She had her words and mind, but when it came to physical qualities, such as fighting her way out of the place, she had to remember she was still small and completely powerless. She couldn't even throw a punch, let alone defend herself without a weapon.

And as she was led into another room and told to sit on the floor, she couldn't help but think how News had been right; she didn't have a chance.

But as her eyes traveled up along the extremely advanced technology some Dracs were sitting at, her gaze settled on a television screen, projecting feed from the security cameras outside the headquarters. Her heart leapt up into her throat in excitement, and she glanced at News, who was leaning against the wall behind them, making eye contact with her and smirking.

News smiled back like it didn't bother her, and then frowned again in the same instant, looking back to the screen that showed the four figures crossing the bridge outside and walking purposefully towards the building. But the thought had been very obviously mutual—though it had been pleasant for Missile, and not so much for News.

Now she had a chance; a very good one, in fact.

News stepped forward and spoke softly to a Drac, then smirked, stepping back again and confusing Missile. She walked past the Dracs, murmured to herself inaudibly, and left the room.

Missile remained where she was for around another minute, and then several ray gun blasts shot past the glass doors of the room, and the people she almost believed she'd never see again burst into the room, shooting the Dracs at the chairs before they could realize what was happening.

Missile stood as Party Poison dropped to one knee and held out his arms, embracing her tightly, relieved she was all right.

"You're okay!" she breathed, and Poison swallowed hard without replying. He gave something of a shiver, and Missile vaguely felt it, frowning.

"Guys, come on!" Kobra called from the hall before she could question about it, and Poison finally pulled back, forcing a smile. Then, they followed Ghoul and Jet out, beginning to walk swiftly towards the exit, Missile in front in case anyone tried to attack them from behind.

And sure enough, as they reached the lobby of the building, an elevator behind them beeped loudly, and a single shot fired past them.

The four turned around, immediately grabbing their own weapons as the Dracs began firing continuously at them, led by Korse, who held his weapon stiffly by his side.

Missile watched as the fighting increased, terrified, but could neither fight nor move in any direction for fear of being hit, and so she placed her hands over her ears to block out the awful noise, though it did little to nothing.

Poison backed off towards the wall behind him, finding himself next to a Drac aiming at his brother. "Bastard!" he exclaimed, shooting it in the back before it could hurt Kobra and then reaching up to rip its mask off in anger, something none of them had ever done before.

Whatever he had expected to see—and he wasn't sure he'd been expecting anything—it certainly was not what he saw as the figure fell to the ground, lifeless.

"Neo…?" he whispered, staring first at Missile's brother, then at the mask he held, and finally at Missile. She wasn't facing him.

Please don't turn around—just don't do it.

Poison looked back down at the now dead man, taking slow breaths, though even then was unable to shake himself out of the daze he fell into as the realization hit him.

They'd been killing brainwashed people all this time—humans, not mindless, robotic programs like they'd assumed. He almost felt as if he were going to be sick—the Killjoys that had been captured…had he and the others…?

He looked up at the fight he'd almost forgot was happening, firing shots, but his own thoughts were disorienting him awfully, and he missed each time, casting glances back at the mask. No, you can't kill them! What if they're Killjoys?—I have to, they'll kill us if I—God, you can't!

From across the room, Korse saw his chance. Gun gripped tightly, the agent strolled almost casually over to the distracted Killjoy, grabbed his jacket, and shoving him roughly against the wall, pinning him there, placing his weapon calmly under his chin.

The red head looked unblinkingly back at the man in what could have appeared as defiance from afar.

But Korse saw his true emotions; he was too close to him not to. He deciphered the fear, the utter terror inside the hazel eyes, and he smirked. Enjoying the moment, he tilted his head slightly and pulled the trigger. A shrill scream rang out from behind him.

Poison's eyes immediately shut, and Korse released him as he slid to the floor, staring down at him.

A sharp pain exploded across his right leg, and he staggered, turning in time to see the Killjoy's brother staring at him, eyes wide in disbelief and horror, and then a shot connected with him, and he dropped to the tile, his hand sliding off of his chest as he went motionless.

Ghoul, Jet, and Missile gaped at the scene, but had no choice other than to rush to the exit, for the girl's sake. Ghoul glanced back at his boyfriend for an instant that felt like forever, fighting against the tears that stung his eyes and then spilled over anyway. No, please, baby, don't leave me...he silently pleaded, waiting for him to get up and rejoin the fight. Killjoys didn't die. They just...didn't. Not him, anyway. Not Party Poison. Not the love of his life.

Party was still. His cherry hair hung over his face, his closed eyes. Eyes that would never open again, Ghoul realized.

The twenty-year-old clenched his teeth, his mind set on what he was going to do, and then he turned his attention away, slamming the door behind the others as they got out, locking it.

Jet turned around, eyes wide. "What're you—"

"Save yourself!" Ghoul shouted through the glass, incapable of understanding how his voice had come out so strong while he cried. "I'll hold them back!"

With that, Ghoul faced the attacking Dracs once more, managing to hit several before his shoulder suddenly took a blast. An exhaustion spread throughout him, yet he remained on his feet, his anger and need for revenge against his love's killers spurring him on, firing a few more times before another shot caused his world to go dark.

The Dracs rushed past his collapsed form without a moment's hesitation.

Jet had Missile's hand gripped in his as he pulled her away from the scene, noticing a van was pulling up beside where they had parked the car. He released Missile, yelled, "Don't stop running!" and then paused, turning to fire at the persuing enemies.

Without knowing it right away, Missile had gotten way ahead of Jet, and as she realized this she heard several more shots, a shout, and a loud, almost metallic thud, not needing to turn around to know what had happened.

The van door opened, and she saw Dr. D's form in the back, holding his arms out to help her, his eyes wide as he saw she was completely alone. She practically slammed into him, and the door quickly shut, driving off as shots fired all around them, bouncing off the side of the vehicle.

"Kid!" Dr. D tried, and she staggered back, tears pouring down her face.

"Are you all right?"

"I—I—I am, but—" she cut off and slid to the bottom, taking several long, deep breaths to compose herself and running a trembling hand across her eyes to clear her vision.

"The others?" Dr. D finally asked, fearing the answer he already knew.

"No." Missile sniffed, looking up at him as the tears unwillingly continued to fall. Her voice was as weak as the rest of her as she spoke again, like she was trying to confirm the fact to herself even though she knew it was true.

"No. They're dead."