By the time Jon was on his last couple of songs, everything had thought the concert definitely was something worth going to.

That is, until one of the stagehands and the guitar tech came onstage, effectively pausing the concert.

They were talking quietly to Jon, whose eyes widened as he nodded.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry, but due to outside circumstances my current song will have to be my last, sorry for this." Jon apologized, so glad he still had the ability to control emotions, making sure to keep the crowd levelheaded.

The whole group exchanged a look.

"Ten to one it's-" Sisky.

"Don't even say it." William.

"If it's really that we're-" Adeline.

"Fucked." Carden.

And sure enough, not a minute later, someone in the crowd broke the ranks at the sound of the backstage door being roughly knocked to the ground, accompanied by a droning moan of what could only be that of the undead as they filed into the theater, drawn to something.

Within seconds it was chaos, the seated concertgoers dispersing in all directions with startled cries, some unsure where to go.

"Here we go again."

The six move as quick as they can to help people get out of the way, and after mostly everyone is gone, they bound up to the stage, as even the security guards and theater workers have fled.

"Jon? This was an awesome show - but I think we got crashed by zombies." Ryan pointed out, not surprised at the knowing smile the comment received, although everyone realized the moaning of whatever few creatures that had crashed the party had stopped.

"Long time no see, hey? And yeah, Chicago's had this problem for awhile. A good four or five days, but I guess they're migrating." he shrugged, running back towards the rear entrance of the building, everyone following.

What they didn't expect was to see a pile of zombies - not moving, having obviously been killed swiftly and effectively, and a certain somebody perched atop the nearby speaker cabinet.

William felt the energy in the air change immediately as Ryan stepped forward and growled, as if he was thoroughly confused.

"You break our fucking mutual on twitter - my LAST way to keep in touch with you and then you just come back and you show up seven and half years later? The hell, Bren?!" he shouts, and even though everyone knows he's trying to act royally pissed off Ryan can't help but running forward and hug the lead singer of the band he had originally formed.

"It's not like I wanted to leave all this on bad terms...figured you guys could use some help, the air just hasn't felt right and I swear, it's like conferences all over again. It's nice to see you Jon, sorry we crashed your show, these guys wouldn't shut up," Brendon Urie explained, further driving a small pocket knife deeper into one of the zombies' heads, "And besides, I've been meaning to get into touch with you all. Sarah and I are getting mar-"

"DON'T!" William objects, laughing because he knows what the m word will do to his fiancee, but Brendon continues, "Married next summer. And uh, she wants some of the bands I've toured with to show up."

AJ smiled.

"Well, that's great news! You're not the only one though," and with a giggle she flashed the half-carat diamond solitaire ring William had proposed to her with, "But congrats."

"This is awkward. If it's like a conference again, where's the mutt and his friends? And the girl you're normally hanging out with?" Brendon asked, and AJ shrugged, "We're bound to run into them sometime soon, they can't hide forever. And...Brendon, how many have you killed so far? I still hear-"

"Run." Ryan states, looking back toward the entrance to the theater, noticing shuffling movement any normal human couldn't possibly have.

"Oh come oh, they can't even-"

"If you want to live, take my hand, and run."

Just as one manages to climb up onto the stage from the ramp hidden behind the curtains opposite the side everyone is at, William uses a burst of telekinesis to lob a few drumsticks at the creature, aiming for its head.

It only groans louder and adapts a look of apparent rage on its face.

"I think you pissed it off, sweetheart. You can't just hit these things, you gotta stab 'em!" AJ called, motioning to follow Brendon who already was out the back door, (goddamn could he move) *I just needed to make that Ms. Jackson reference*.

Everyone else followed the lead, and as the zombie continued to advance, the eight waiting for the right moment to strike. As soon as it was close enough, the group tugged the large metal door shut on the zombie, splitting it in half, blood and innards spilling everywhere.

Ryan grinned, "Huh. This is alright. These zombies don't seem like much of a threat."

In response, Jon tapped his shoulder, "Dude, you spoke way too soon. We gotta figure out a gameplan, and fast. Because look."

And then, they saw, ambling towards them with an uneven gait, was a herd of maybe twenty to thirty zombies.

"Now we run?" Sisky asked, some fear flickering in his eyes.

"And fast." Butcher added,"There's a storage warehouse somewhere around here we could corner all these guys into and pick 'em off one by one. Come on!"

And with that, the entire group went for it, hoping one of them wouldn't get bit and that they could get out of this relatively unharmed.

Meanwhile, Amelia and her group had had somewhat of the same problem, they had managed to corral the zombies into an abandoned warehouse, one of the ones that Butcher had been talking about.

Everyone worked hard to try and destroy as many of the zombies as possible. Amelia hung back, trying to heal anyone who needed it. Everything had been going fine up to that point, except there was one thing that no one could have predicted: there were already zombies in the warehouse.

Just when they thought they had gotten rid of the last zombie, a wave of them came out of the darkness and surrounded them. Amelia turned and looked at her comrades. Everyone was bruised and bloody, and with the zombies steadily advancing, there was no time for her or Chuck to try and heal anyone.

"We have to keep fighting!" Sebastien declared

"Are you crazy?!" Gerard yelled "There's too many of them! We need to retreat and try again later!"

"I think we can take them!" Seb argued

"Seb, listen to Gerard. If we try to take them on right now, we're just asking to get slaughtered. It would be a suicide mission!" Chuck said, being the voice of reason

Before Seb could say anything in reply, Mikey turned his head towards the entrance of the factory and squinted, as if he was concentrating.

"Mikey, what do you hear?" Ray asked

"I'm not sure. Hold on," he said as he strained to listen. Meanwhile, the zombies still approached. Pierre and David worked together to try and keep the zombies at bay, but it was clear they were becoming

exhausted.

Mikey strained his ears, trying to hear over the din of the zombies groaning. It was then that he heard a tiny click. There was no mistaking that noise.

"EVERYONE GET DOWN!" he yelled and not a moment too soon.

Bullets began to rain down on the zombies from an unknown assailant. Thinking quickly, Pierre erected a shield of concrete on all sides to protect everyone from the bullets.

"What the fuck is this now?!" Someone yelled, but there hadn't been time for a reply.

Pierre had managed to make a hole in the shield so that he could see what was going on. Bullets rained down all around them. Zombies were falling left and right. After a few moments, the shooting stopped.

Pierre dismantled the concrete structure and everyone was able to stand up. As the smoke cleared, they noticed a figure standing in front of them about 20 yards off. The figure held two 9mm guns. They were shocked into silence. Though this figure had let his hair grow and had a bushy beard, there was no mistaking those bright blue eyes.

"Bob?" Amelia asked, stepping forward

The moment that she stepped forward, Bob raised his gun towards Amelia and clicked it. She froze on the spot.

"Hey Bob, it's me, Amelia. You remember who I am, don't you? I'm your friend," she said, raising her hands to show that she meant no harm.

Bob scoffed at her words.

"Yes, I remember who you are, but you're no friend of mine. You associate with them," he replied as he cocked his other gun.

Frank, Gerard, Ray, and Mikey came up alongside Amelia.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" Mikey snarled

Bob turned from Amelia and instead pointed the gun at Mikey.

"I just saved all of your asses. The least you could do is show me some gratitude."

"Why should we show you anything except the door? You wrote us out of your life," Gerard said, his voice calm and collected.

"I just did you all a favor and all I get is anger and hostility. I see that I've wasted my time. Should have just let the zombies get you," Bob said, turning around to leave.

With a growl, Mikey leapt towards Bob and tackled him to the ground.

"Eight years, man! EIGHT FUCKING YEARS! You left us eight years ago without any kind of explanation and then you just show up out of fucking nowhere and expect us to welcome you with open arms?!" he yelled, smashing Bob's head into the concrete

"At least I wasn't the one who broke the band apart!" Bob yelled back, struggling to get free

Mikey was sitting on top of Bob, pinning his arms to the ground.

"Do you think we really wanted to give up the band?! The band was everything to us!"

Bob smirked though he was in pain. The blood trickling down his face made his grin all the more demented. "Must not have been too important if you let your egos get in the way and ruin things."

Mikey growled again and increased his pressure on Bob's left upper arm, satisfied when he heard bones break. A grimace of pain worked its way across Bob's features.

"So you killed a couple of zombies. Big deal. You think you're special?"

"Actually, I do. I certainly did more than you guys did, cowering in the corner!"

"You think you're so high and mighty now, don't you?! You leave us and go hide in the woods for eight years, then you come back and kill some zombies. Do you want a fucking gold star?"

"You have no idea what I went through in those eight years!" Bob said, defending himself.

"Yeah, well you don't know what we went through either! You don't know how many nights Gerard and I spent looking for you. We wanted to try and work things out, but you're too stubborn! You always were!"

"I might be stubborn, but at least I'm smart enough to know when to walk away from something when it's dead!"

"You mean like your wife?" Mikey challenged A look of both horror and rage appeared on Bob's face. He struggled even more violently, trying to free himself from Mikey's grasp.

"Yeah, that's right. I heard about that. Your wife Caitlin gets attacked by a rogue werewolf and instead of letting the change take place, you chickened out and killed her yourself," Mikey said with a cruel smirk.

With a last burst of strength, Bob managed to free his right arm and sit up slightly. He raised the gun and pointed it right at Mikey's heart. Everyone gasped. He was at point-blank range. If he shot, even a werewolf as strong as Mikey would not survive.

"Don't you ever bring up Caitlin again you son of a bitch, or I swear to god, I'll fucking kill you," Bob said, his voice cold.

Mikey leaned in closer to Bob and the barrel of the gun pressed harder against his chest. Bob steadied his hand and placed his forefinger on the trigger.

"Do it," Mikey challenged, his voice deadly.

Beside Amelia, Gerard visibly tensed as he readied himself to rectify the situation. He only hoped he could make it before Bob pulled the trigger.

Mikey's brown eyes burned into Bob's blue ones. Just when it looked like he was going to pull the trigger, Bob scoffed and with his good arm, he managed to shove Mikey off of him. He stood up and brushed himself off.

He approached everyone with caution. Everyone was eyeing him suspiciously, especially after his confrontation with Mikey. Mikey went back to where Gerard and the others were standing.

"Is anyone injured?" he asked as he put the guns in holsters and took his wand out of his pocket.

"You are," Amelia said, moving forward slowly. "I can help you."

She instructed Bob to slowly sit on the ground. Grabbing a pair of rubber gloves out of her bag, she began to assess the wound on his head. Though it was still bleeding, it wasn't very deep, meaning that she could easily heal it with Waterbending. She first cleaned the area around the wound and got rid of the blood. Then, she very carefully put water on the wound and moved her hands in a circular motion, just like Chuck had taught her. In a few moments, the wound was gone. She removed her gloves and sanitized her hands.

"Wow, is anyone else getting tired of someone constantly being at someone else's throat?" AJ asked, having just walked in from the unguarded entrance, (honestly if their had been anymore zombies around Amelia's entire group could have been taken by surprise) and although what she had said wasn't really a question, it probably would have sounded better as an 'I'm so sick of this' statement.

Amelia gasped, great, leave it to most of the Dandies to show up now.