Here's another update :) Because of Livejournal's down time, I've decided to post each chapter first on here from now on. Im up to Chapter Nine and I'll post that tonight too.

Thanks to those who reviewed chapter seven so quickly :) I'm really grateful. I'll be replying to any reviews I get in future privately as its easier and more personal :) I just prefer it!

Right the. Enjoy!

Burning Star

Chapter Eight

Gerard grimaced as he tried to get comfortable in the back of his car. It was impossible. Everything hurt. His rib was screaming at him, his broken ankle throbbing intensely. Even sitting was a agonising effort, thanks to the searing pain in his backside. He didn't want to think about why.

Never again did he ever want to think about that.

The man, who had now reminded his friends on three separate occasions to refer to him only as Party Poison, let out an audible sigh, laid his head against the support and closed his eyes. He felt so tired, he was sure he could have slept for days. He could feel the eyes of the other Killjoys upon him and he wished they would stare someplace else. He knew they were worried about him but he didn't need their concern right then. He needed to be left alone, to try and digest exactly what had happened that day and recover from his injuries and ordeals in his own manner. He glanced to his left and saw Mikey watching him, obviously wanting to say something, probably to ask him again how he was feeling - Gerard knew he was going to get asked that particular question repeatedly for quite some time to come.

He frowned. People would treat him like a victim now, because that was what he was. Just another of Korse's unfortunate victims.

He wondered how long it would take people to work out he didn't want to talk about his feelings, and he was pretty damned sure he never would. His gaze met Mikey's, who gave him a small, nervous smile. Gerard brought a weary hand up to his forehead and then looked away from his brother, choosing to gaze out of the window instead. He heard Mikey let out a frustrated sigh and he knew he was upsetting him, but he felt that it was unavoidable. He was probably worrying them all more than he intended but how could he help that? He'd be back at the base soon enough and then he could have some much needed quiet time, just him and his thoughts. He didn't need sympathy or understanding. He didn't need people to tiptoe around him as if on egg shells, scared he would break into a million pieces at any moment. He knew he needed care and quickly, the pain he was experiencing was a constant reminder of that. But as soon as he felt better, he needed to be back out there, back in the Zones, doing what he was best at.

Gerard frowned. He would take revenge for what was done to him. Korse was gone, and Gerard was glad of it, but there were still plenty of Draculoids to take out. He'd make everyone of them suffer for what had been done to him. And then, when enough Dracs and Scarecrows had died horribly at his hand, then he would go after Better Living Industries itself. No other innocent person was going to suffer for that Corporation again; no more torture devices shooting drug darts into arms. Gerard would see the company fall. He would tear the whole fucking corrupt Corporation down, or he would die trying.

"Gerard?" He heard Frank whisper. "You alright?"

Gerard pursed his lips together, scowled, and brought a weary hand up to his forehead.

"'M fine, Ghoul." He replied, none too pleasantly. "And didn't I just tell you all to keep to the handles? It's Poison, okay?"

Frank and Ray exchanged glances. "Sure," Frank replied. He returned to staring straight ahead, not daring to attempt any further conversation.

Silence reigned once more. None of them knew what to say, or what to do. They had no idea what was the best thing. None of them had experience in dealing with someone who had endured what Gerard had that day. They couldn't blame him for blocking all those horrors out. They had just gotten him back. All Frank knew was that he was just so fucking relieved to have him there. Anything they had to face in the future, they could do it together. All of them. He stole another glance at Gerard, who had returned his attention to the desert they were driving by. Frank saw the quiver in Gerard's lips, could see the tears he was fighting to contain, now always threatening to spill. And he saw the shield his boyfriend had put up, the protection he had placed around himself - it would be some time before Gerard could allow anyone through that barrier.

Frank could wait. However long it took.

They drove on, until the uncomfortable atmosphere became almost unbearable. Gerard refused to look at his fellow Killjoys, and they didn't try to speak to him again. They could all sense the battle within their leader. It was a fight just to stop himself breaking down.

And Party Poison was still too proud to allow them to see him crumble.

Mikey finally cleared his throat.

"Will the Doc meet us back at base?" he asked.

Ray nodded. "Yeah, he was going back to the town to round up everyone else, and I guess to help the towners." He grimaced. "So many of that town came good for us, fought back against the Dracs and Korse, just to help get Party out of there. Problem with that though is that when the corporation finds out, they'll come down on that town, ray guns blazing. The Doc's gotta make sure they're defended properly."

"How many?" Gerard suddenly whispered. Three pairs of eyes were quickly on him once more.

"Sorry, Gee?" Mikey questioned.

Gerard flinched, but this time, he let his brother's slip pass without comment.

"How many towners and rebels did we lose?" He continued. "How many people died in that place today?" He paused, before adding, so softly, "Because of me?"

They didn't know how to respond. Finally, Ray cleared his throat.

"A lot," he replied, quite truthfully. He saw no point it trying to protect Party Poison. The man could see right through them and it didn't seem like he wanted to be protected anyway. "There were bodies everywhere." His hand tightened on the streering wheel. "They lost a lot of numbers too, though. And Korse, obviously. Those people didn't die in vain, Party. We have made a big dent in those bastard's plans today. This wasn't just about saving you; this was a big day for us all." He stared into the rear view mirror, catching Party's gaze. "Don't blame yourself, Gerard."

Gerard closed his eyes.

"Why not?"

Another memory flashed before his eyes. He saw three men sprawled on the ground, their faces turned towards him, eyes wide and unstaring.

He saw Korse smirking, watching him holding a metal pole above his head, laughing as he swung it down...

Gerard's eyes shot open and he let out a low moan.

"Do you know, Gerard?" The cruel man purred, matter-of-factly. "Eventually, it's time for everyone to stop running."

"Gee?" A quiet voice spoke up, bringing the red-haired man out of his haze. "Are you okay?"

With a sigh, Gerard turned and looked over at Mikey, who watched him with a pained expression. The older brother was about to give the younger another stern telling off when he saw the fear in the other's eyes and he paused.

He could see how scared Mikey was. Gerard couldn't blame him. It had been a nightmare period for all of them, not just him.

He leaned closer to Mikey, and placed a hand on his leg. "I'm sorry, Mikes. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just tired, hurting. It's been a long day, you know?" He followed his pitiful attempt at a joke with a unconvincing smile. "I just need a rest back at the base," he added. "I'll be fine."

Mikey gave him a grateful nod. Gerard held his brother's gaze for a few moments longer and then he looked away. For a split second, he caught Frank looking at him in the mirror. Gerard stared back, trying to keep his face neutral. He wanted to hide from his boyfriend, and the concern radiating from him. He didn't want Frank to know just how much turmoil he was in. Pain, fear, guilt, distress, hate; every emotion was coursing through him, choking him but he wanted to appear strong, somehow, he had to hold it together.

He would notlet Korse win.

Forcing his gaze away from Frank, he returned to looking out of the window. He hoped they didn't notice as a solitary tear made its way down his face.

Then Gerard froze. Shit. No, it was impossible; he had thought he could see Korse out there, watching him, waiting for him. He was in the car, but Korse was following him.

Even dead, Korse would not let him be. He still wanted him.

And he was going to hurt him again.

'He's dead,' Gerard told himself sternly. 'He's not gonna come for you. He's gone.'

He felt a wave of pain enveloping him. He gasped.

He knew that agony. Remembered it only to well. As if he could ever forget.

"I've waited a long time to watch you break, my friend. You are mine." Korse was pulling him closer holding him once more by his arm, and then he ran his finger down his cheek, smiling evilly. "Scream for me now, baby."

Gerard whimpered. "No."

"Gerard," Frank said, at once. "What's wrong?"

Gerard didn't hear him. All he could see or hear was Korse. Korse laughing at him, reaching for him, torturing him.

Thrusting inside of him.

"Please," he moaned. "Don't hurt me again!"

The remaining Killjoys stared at each other, horrorstruck. What the fuck were they supposed to do now? Was this a fit? A delayed reaction?

An overdose?

Gerard screamed loudly as the pain seized him further, and he wrapped his arms around himself in terror.

He crumpled, falling forwards, unaware the Mikey had leaped forward, catching him, preventing him from bashing his head on the seat in front of him.

"Fuck!"Mikey exclaimed. "Gerard, can you hear me?"

Gerard gave no response - he couldn't. He wasn't even aware that the Killjoys were there. Everything hurt. How did Korse do it? How did he inject him with that damned dart again? How did he get to him?

Mikey had hold of his brother, trying desperately to comfort him, to get through to him somehow. It was useless.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Frank demanded, unable to conceal the terror in his tone.

"I don't know!" Mikey looked up with pleading eyes. "Pull over Ray!"

Ray was panicked. "But-"

"Just fucking pull over!"

XXX

The woman stood, two Draculoids on each side, one behind, staring down at Korse's body. Her expression was emotionless, her face cold, lifeless.

She watched him for a moment longer, then straightened and turned to the nearest Draculoid.

"What happened here?" She enquired.

"The Exterminator was murdered, Ma'am."

She threw the Draculoid a withering look. "I can see that, idiot." She clearly was fighting, and failing, to contain her temper. "Who killed him?"

"One of the rebels."

"Which one?"

"The Killjoy known as Fun Ghoul."

Her face darkened. "Killjoys," she repeated. "Always the Killjoys."

She stared down at Korse's body, expressionless.

"How did Korse die?"

"Fun Ghoul took the prototype and used it on the Exterminator."

The Coordinator blinked. A moment passed as the Draculoid waited for her to address it again. Then, she actually smirked. "Taking his own weapon from him," she mused. "Korse was a fool. He got what he deserved." She leaned down and placed two fingers at the dead man's throat. "His heart stopped beating some minutes ago. We have little time. Get him back to the City and straight into surgery. Move."

With a uncaring jerk of her head, she turned away from her fallen general as two Dracs scurried to obey her while one stayed close by, waiting for her further instructions. Frowning, she walked further up the road, staring at the Trans AM speeding away in the distance. She glowered, her arms crossed across her chest. "How many Killjoys escaped?"

"All of them," came the monotonous reply.

"All three of them?" She snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"Four, ma'am."

She stayed perfectly still. "I was informed that the leader, Party Poison, was killed."

The Drac shook its head. "He survived."

Her eyes flamed. "So," she stated, "The rebels rescue plans seems to have been entirely successful." She trembled slightly. "How they must be celebrating."

"Should we pursue the Killjoys, ma'am?" The Drac offered. "They are in the open, easy to reach, even with our lesser numbers. We can destroy them now for you."

The sound of screeching brakes brought the Coordinator and the Drac's attentions back to the Trans AM and they watched as the car came to a sudden and noisy halt. The car doors swung open and they could make out the unmistakable noise of agonising cries as three of the Killjoys exited the car and then rushed to assist the fourth, who fell to the ground, and was screaming in clear agony. His fellow gang members were locked in furious panicked conversation and obviously had no idea what to do to relieve his agony.

The Coordinator smiled knowingly.

"Just as expected. I was aware that Korse had tested the drug on the rebel repeatedly. I was certain there would be some very unpleasant side effects." She shrugged. "Well, unpleasant for the subject. I would be very amused and interested to see his suffering up-close." She placed a finger on her face and absentmindedly tapped her cheek. "A shame Korse could not manage to bring the rebel to me. It would have been fascinating to what reaction an overdose would have had." She spoke as if she was discussing a lab rat, not a man. "The pain must be torturous."

"Ma'am, they will escape..." The Drac began but she held up a hand to stop it.

"They are going nowhere. I have plans for them all." She narrowed her eyes as she watched one Killjoy trying to calm the others, while one sat beside their fallen comrade, trying to quieten him down, and failing. "One is currently experiencing a horrific reaction due to overdosing on a drug that he should be dead from, another is marked. They aren't going anywhere. They haven't even begun to suffer yet for all the trouble they have caused me." A cold smile spread across her lips. "Their precious Broadcaster though, he is another matter. He must be dealt with while we have the opportunity." She ran a hand through her hair as the wind blew sand in her face. "We must tread carefully though. He is in the town, correct?"

"Yes Ma'am."

She frowned as she stared at the town thoughtfully.

"What of the townsfolk? Were their memories wiped?"

"No Ma'am."

She cursed Korse under her breath. "That fool would allow this Corporation to fall if it meant he won his private little war with those rebels!" She clicked her fingers. "We must not take any action against the Broadcaster now then. This town is close to the City and is a useful base for us. The Townies' memories must be cleaned before we can take any action against the rebel leader. Send a party of Dracs to the town to see it done." She turned her back. "I will return to the city and prepare for the next wave." She waved a hand. "I leave you in charge, commander."

"Ma'am," it said quickly, "I have more to report."

She sighed. "Well?"

"Many of the townsfolk supported the Killjoys and the rest of the rebels, Ma'am. They rose up against us, against Exterminator Korse."

Again, the Coordinator showed no emotion except in her eyes, which flashed. She closed her eyes for a second, considering. When she opened them again, the fire had faded but her face was set.

"Fools," she snapped. "We offer these morons everything, give them easy lives without having to look back on the dark times, and they think they can turn on Better Living, turn on me?" She took a step forward. "Contact the City and instruct them that a copter is to be sent," she instructed. "And you will need to inform our operative of the change of plans," she continued. "I want that town purged at once. Total destruction. Nothing and no one is to remain." Her eyes blazed. "See to it."

The Drac bowed its head obediently. "Yes Ma'am. Of course."

And then it was gone, leaving her alone, to stare furiously at the town. "They think they can support rebel scum and not pay any price? They will regret their choice. And I will send a message to the next town who would reject the life I have offered them."

She looked towards the Killjoys again and nodded satisfactorily.

"And now, they get to die for their beloved heroes cause." A cold smile. "And the best part is that those very heroes get to watch their demise."

She chuckled. "So much for individuality."

XXX

Gerard was on his knees by the car, his hands placed on either side of his head. He writhed, clearly in complete agony. Frank was perched beside him, too afraid to touch him, with no idea how to even start helping him. Mikey was close by, a hand over his mouth, every inch of him shaking in fear for his brother. Ray was by the car, his communicator in his hand, as he desperately tried to contact Doctor Death, for what must have been the twentieth time.

None of the Killjoys knew what was happening or how to fight back. Their leader was being tortured by an unseen assailant right before their eyes and all they could do was watch.

"What do we do?" Mikey snapped to Frank, his voice breaking in despair.

"I don't know," Frank shot back. "I just don't know, Mikey."

"Is he dying?"

"Don't say that!"

Mikey scowled. "Why not? Look at him! He's dying, isn't he?"

Unable to answer, mainly because the thought of losing Gerard now, after everything, was incomprehensible to Frank, he turned instead to Ray.

"Still out of range?"

"Yeah," Ray said grimly. "Or they are blocking the signal. Either way, I can't get through to the Doc."

Frank trembled. "Then what the fuck do we do?"

"Why don't we try fucking praying?" Mikey threw in.

Frank turned on him.

"Look, Kid,why don't you just-"

"Guys!" Ray hissed, a hand raised to silence them both. "Just shut the fuck up! Look!"

They both paused, still glaring at one another, to look in the direction Ray had pointed. And gaped.

A shape was heading towards them, roaring out of the dust and the smoke. As it drew nearer, they could see it was a motorbike and that it was making straight for them.

"What the...?" Mikey whispered.

Ray shushed him with a wave of his hand, watching nervously as the motorbike came ever closer.

It growled to a halt mere meters away from them and the rider seemed to stare at the Killjoys before making his move. The man dismounted from his motorcycle slowly and then stepped towards them, not saying a word. He looked towards the wretched man on the ground and then pointedly made straight for Gerard but only to be stopped in his tracks when three ray guns were suddenly being aimed directly at him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Frank stormed. "What do you want?"

The man actually chuckled.

"Nice to see you too, Frankie."

Frank stared.

The rider hesitated for a second longer, then sighed and shook his head in frustration. Apparently no longer fazed by the guns pointing at his head, he carefully took off his helmet, tossing his long hair back behind his ears, and then glared at the three shocked men, all staring at him in disbelief.

There was a low but audible gasp.

The Killjoys were actually lost for words as they stared at a man they hadn't seen for years. Not since the wars. They had believed him to be dead but here he was, right there, standing a few feet away from them with a very familiar scowl on his face.

Ray finally recovered first.

"Bert?" He whispered, hardly believing his eyes. "How the fuck did you-"

"Hey guys," Bert replied, cutting across him. "Long time, no see."

He glanced over at Gerard, who barely moved behind them.

Bert's face darkened. He slipped his hand into the inside of his jacket, and pulled out a small wallet filled with containers and needles. He held them up for the Killjoys to see, and then raised a questioning eyebrow.

"So, do you wanna carry on fucking staring at me?" He snarled. "Or do you want me to save Gerard's worthless life?"

TBC