A/N/TRIGGER WARNING: There's attempted suicide in this chapter.

Chapter Twenty One

Can You Save Yourself Tonight?

Click.

Frank blinked his eyes open at the noise, frowning and then turning over in irritation, trying to drift back off. It was bad luck, plain and simple. The one night he'd been sleeping peacefully and actually refraining somehow from having nightmares, and he ended up getting yanked out of it by the fucking door closing.

Wait…

The twenty-year-old sat up as quickly as he could, getting to his knees and then peering over the top of the couch he had been lying next to, tilting his head slightly at the door before shaking it. He'd probably been hearing things, brought on by lack of sleep. He glanced down as something soft brushed against his hand and then jerked back as he saw two bright green eyes staring up at him.

"Sorry," Bell murmured, giving a little half-smile, swiping her hair out of her face.

"Who left?"

"What? You just woke me up, I don't know anything."

"Sorry." Now it was Frank's turn to nervously grin, falling back a bit to sit and heave a sigh.

"It might've been Bert," she whispered thoughtfully, an emotion he couldn't decipher in her voice.

"Yeah, sure, I guess." Frank shrugged, still feeling distressed. He mulled over lying back down and getting more of his much needed rest, but something in him simply wouldn't allow that. Instead, he stood and glanced around the room, a panic rising in him that the other obviously sensed, propping herself up on her elbows. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." he replied quietly, his eyes locking with the corner where, last time he checked, his love had been fast asleep. He'd come out of the bathroom only when nearly everyone had already settled down to sleep, and as soon as he'd lay down and gone still, Mikey had gone over and sat beside him. Now, though, the blonde was alone, stretched out on his back, one arm on his chest, the other lying limp beside him.

Frank frowned, confused, and then slowly around the couch and over to the door.

"What're you doing?" Bell almost sounded afraid. "You can't go out, it's, like, two in the morning!"

"I just wanna look." he said, a bit apprehensive, not taking his gaze off the knob as he hesitated for a moment and then grabbed it, starting at how cold the metal was.

"What're you doing?" Bell had gotten more desperate, coming over to him.

Frank looked at her finally. "Come with me," he murmured, opening it before she could protest and stepping out, hearing her sigh and then follow, shutting it behind them, crossing her arms over her chest. "God, are you crazy? What's out here?"

"Nothing. I don't know." He stared down the hallway. "He just…wasn't there. I thought maybe—"

"He who? Poison?" She paused as Frank nodded. "He's probably in…"

Frank frowned and glanced back as she trailed off, noticing her narrowed eyes were now focused on something in front of her, and he whirled towards what had her attention, seeing that the door at the top of the single flight of stairs leading to the roof was cracked open.

Feeling the alarm in him mount, he glanced at her, saw a word forming on her lips, and then took off before she could say anything, his feet hardly making any noise at all on the steps. He eased the door open once he'd gotten there and stepped out, hearing nothing at first but the gravel and pebbles crunching under his bare feet, wincing as one of them cut into his heel. Then he looked up as he became aware of another sound, of crying, and frantically scanned around for where it was coming from.. He caught Bell's gaze, her eyes wide, and she glanced behind her in a gesture she didn't seem to have the words for. He slowly stepped towards the shed-like structure they'd just come out of, grabbing the side of it and taking a deep breath without peering around it, almost afraid. "...Gee?"

The snivels quieted for a moment, and Frank took a step forward, turning to face his boyfriend, who was completely curled in on himself against the side of the shed, head buried in his knees.

"Gee, what's wrong?" Frank dropped to kneel next to him, reaching out a hand to touch him. Gerard recoiled immediately, somehow managing to make himself smaller, and shook his head.

"Gerard..." Frank murmured, bringing his arm back, his fingers clenching and unclenching, wanting desperately to hold the older and yet unable to. "Baby, please...tell me...why're you up here?"

Gerard raised his head a bit, shifting one of the arms he had clutched between his chest and his legs. "Can't." he finally mumbled.

"Can't what?" Frank attempted to comfort him again, and this time Gerard only flinched, not pulling away from the warm grip suddenly on his shoulder.

"Everything," Gerard whimpered, sounding too much like how he had when they had still lived in Battery; hopeless, confused, and more than anything afraid. His right arm twitched again. "I fucking...go away. Please. Just walk away."

The breath was snatched from Frank's lungs. "Gerard, c'mon, you know I love you, right?" He got no immediate response, and so he added a desperate, "Right?"

"You shouldn't. Now leave."

"Like hell I will," Frank scowled, his hand still firmly on the other's shoulder, gently squeezing because he could think of no other way to let Gerard know he was there when he could not touch him. "I do. Why would you ever think I didn't?"

"I'm not worth it." The older's voice was cracking and hoarse with emotion. He moved again, grimacing and then uncurled a bit, enough Frank could see that the left sleeve of his jacket was pulled up, and the younger didn't have to be a genius to figure out what Gerard was doing—or, trying to do. "Gerard—no, what—of course you are! Why the hell would you think you're not?"

"I let you get hurt, Frankie." he whispered, and for the first time he didn't seem to care who heard his next words, as he did not lower his voice. "He fucking raped you, and I just…I watched. Helpless, I…"

"No, Gee, please—" Frank said as he trailed off, wincing at Bell's tiny gasp as she stood still, unsure what to do—if she even could do anything. Then she slowly got to her knees, a foot or two away from them.

"Please…it wasn't your fault. It was never your fault."

The older Killjoy rolled his eyes and mumbled his disagreement as his arm moved again. He drew a sharp breath through clenched teeth and winced again, and Frank actually started to tremble. "Please, Gerard, don't. Don't do anything. Put it down."

"Why should I?" Gerard snapped. "You'll fucking be better off. You all are. I'm nothing. You'd probably finally take the bastards down if I was—"

"Don't you dare say that!" Frank exclaimed, and then briefly closed his eyes, collecting himself. "Please. Please don't say that. We wouldn't be better off! You have to know that somewhere. Come on! This isn't you! This...it's not you, Gerard. It hasn't been since they had us."

"What if it is?" Gerard whispered.

"It's not!"

"I'm done, Frank. You all want Party Poison, but he's fucking dead. Korse finally killed him back there, just like he wanted."

"Gerard..."

"Exactly! That's all I am now." He hung his head in shame. "I'm the same scared, pathetic little shit I was back in Battery. It doesn't matter. Trust me, Frank, it really doesn't...just...just go..."

Frank shook his head. "I love you. You, Gerard. I don't care if you think I shouldn't, I do. Don't make me lose you. I already did once—please don't make me do it again."

Gerard blearily looked up at him, distracted for a moment. "W-what?"

Frank gave a short, almost manic huff of laughter. "I thought I'd lost you in the building, Gerard. Before we got captured. I—" He bit his lip, his eyes watering. "I saw you die. Or at least…I thought I did…and I couldn't do anything. I just had to watch. Helpless."

Gerard stiffened at the use of his own words.

The twenty-year-old blinked to clear the tears from his vision, only to have it blur again from new ones, wetting his lips and then continuing. "I didn't know it wasn't a real gun. I didn't…and I couldn't fucking live knowing it would be without you, okay? I—I helped Jet and Missile get away…I locked the door behind them and told them to run. I could've gone with them, could've—it might have been different if I had."

He ran a hand under his nose and sniffed. "I didn't, Gerard. I wouldn't. I did it for them, but…but it was because of you. It was because if you died, I wanted to die, too." He shivered and moved his hand from Gerard's shoulder to his elbow, pleading him with his eyes and his words. "I can't live without you, Gee. Please. Don't…don't…just don't…"

Gerard gave a little moan of complete despair, closing his eyes. He must have been visably questioning this whole thing, because Bell suddenly grabbed Gerard around his shoulders and yanked him towards her, her knee going hard into his back. Gerard yelped, dropping the stained red shard of glass he'd been clutching in shock. Mouth hanging open, Frank only stared as Bell glared at him. "Get the fucking thing, idiot!"

"No!" Gerard tried to break away, but the girl held him with more strength than he could manage to summon. He could only watch with a horrified expression as Frank grabbed his only source of relief and chucked it over the side of the building. "No! You—" His shout got cut off as Bell put her hand over his mouth, wary of how loud they'd been already, glancing off to the nearest visable street.

"Baby..." Frank murmured, looking and sounding absolutely heartbroken, grabbing Gerard's arm and staring at the exposed injuries. Gerard let out a muffled sob and turned his head, and Bell removed her hand to hold both of his shoulders again. "You...fucking...I...no."

"Gerard..." the younger moaned and then wrapped his arms around Gerard, burying his face in the other's jacket. "Gerard...I love you...God, I love you so much."

Gerard's arm crept up around him in a half-hug, suddenly exhausted. "'m s...s'ry..."

"Ssh, I know," Frank held him tighter. "I know, it's okay, it's..." He trailed off and frowned as he felt something on his elbow, looking down at Gerard's arm to see the one he seemed to have tried hardest on had started dripping red again. "Fucking hell," he cursed, and then uncurled himself from the other, looking up at Bell. "Help me."

Bell nodded and lifted Gerard up enough she could get to her knees. Gerard grimaced as, with their help, he managed to stand, and then couldn't hold back a cry as Frank pressed his palm against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. Frank wrapped his other arm around the twenty-four-year-old's waist. Bell draped one of his arms over her shoulders, and then started forward.

"Sorry."

Frank was startled to hear that word had not come from Gerard this time, but from Bell, whose gaze was on the ground as they stumbled along.

"What?" Frank managed to ask, his eyes unfocused as he glanced over at her, not sure he could handle whatever it was after what had just nearly happened. Bell only bit her lip and shook her head, jerking the door open and leading them inside.

Skye sighed loudly, breaking the blanket of silence that had been surrounding her for what must have been thirty minutes, shifting in her chair. She, Dr. D, DJ, and Pony had been taking turns watching over Gerard, who was currently dead to the world, to assure that, when he awoke, he didn't try to do anything potentially dangerous. He would still be feeling the effects of something Dr. D had given him after the three had staggered into the apartment and woken the others up—a sort of sedative, to help him sleep, and because the Doc wanted to evaluate him without risk of being prevented—for a while after he did awake, and so him moving much at all wouldn't be likely, but after everything, they couldn't be sure enough.

They were in the guest bedroom of Ashton's apartment, the one that Bert usually stayed in whenever he didn't sleep on the couch, though they'd of course agreed to let them use both the room and the bed after what had happened. Frank was slumped in another chair they'd dragged in, having allowed Mikey to be the one to crawl onto the bed beside his brother, one arm tucked around his chest for warmth and the other stretched out, holding Gerard's hand, more contact than Gerard had allowed him to have since they'd come to the city.

She watched them for a moment. It was as clear as day that they both cared deeply about Gerard, and, eyeing the twenty-four-year-old, she suddenly found herself wondering why on earth he had tried to do what he had. It was evident there was something wrong with how he'd been seeing himself—his jacket and shirt had been removed, the arm Mikey was gripping onto now wrapped tightly in bandages from what Dr. D had been instant to acknowledge he had done to himself. But...this was Party Poison! The same Party Poison who'd bounced back from everything he'd ever had happen to him before.

Clearing her throat, she crossed her arms and looked out the window at the dull light that was beginning to come through the glass, making a soft pattern through the blinds on the gray colored sheets of the bed. Did that mean something more had happened? Of course, none of them had been in the posession of BLI for as long as they had this time, and Gerard had never been for any time at all, but...

She shifted. Something had happened in the last two weeks. Whether it had been when they were held captive, or after that, or some combination of all of it, it had happened to both of them, and it had somehow returned them to resembling the scared kids they'd found, only just barely clinging to life, in the desert all those years ago. It had taken them weeks to regain their full strength then, and even longer to become what they were now. She could only hope that they would be as resilient.

Frank stirred slightly, making some sound in his throat and then mumbling something. Skye turned her attention to him, noticing he was covered in a thin layer of sweat, only becoming more obvious when he threw his head back a bit and groaned, his neck and forehead shining in the dim light. "Gee, don't…"

Skye shot out of the chair like she'd been electrocuted, by his side in an instant, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him as gently as she could until he awoke. He jerked upright and looked around the room in a panic before his wide, frantic eyes landed on Gerard, and he suddenly moaned like he was in pain.

"It's okay," Skye murmured soothingly, reaching out in an attempt to hug him, surprised when he instantly returned it without question, trembling. "It's okay."

Frank gave no reply, and she tenderly reached up to stroke his damp hair. He winced, feeling very childish, and yet didn't protest; it was comforting. Like Gerard's touch was, only in a parent to child way instead of lover to lover. He missed that, and he truly hadn't realized how much until now. His father had never quite been the affectionate kind, even abusive at times—specifically after inadvertently discovering his feelings for Gerard—but his mother had always been supportive of everything he'd ever tried to accomplish. It had been her embrace that felt like this, causing emotions of both grief and guilt to nearly overtake him entirely.

And I left her. I left her to die just like we left everyone in Battery City to.

He cringed and softly whimpered, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears. He couldn't do this! Gerard had come so close to ending his own life—Frank refused to think about himself after that. He could wait. Gerard had to get better, and he had to help him. And for that, he had to continue to discount the sorrow he'd been feeling. He'd been doing it since they'd gotten captured and longer; it wouldn't hurt to hold out a little longer until…

Until what? a voice inside him asked. Are you gonna snap just like him? How long till then?

He pulled away from Skye, unable to prolong the feelings. It was merely the stress of the entire scenario that had just occurred that caused them to increase; he had done a damn good job of ignoring them so far.

"Thanks," he mumbled awkwardly, and she smiled sweetly. "It'll be okay."

He averted his gaze briefly before looking at her again and forcing a smile as well. "I hope so."

There was an incoherent mumble from behind them, and immediately they stared at Gerard, who twitched his fingers, frowned, and then groaned softly.

"Gee?"

Again murmuring something they couldn't understand, his eyes flickered open slightly, and Frank sat on the bed beside him, gently brushing away strands of dark hair from the older's face. "What, baby?"

"Cold…"

"Oh," Frank murmured, grabbing the comforter around his waist and pulling it up to his neck. "Better?"

"Mm…"

Frowning a bit, the twenty-year-old glanced back at Skye as she stood, looking over the half-conscious boy on the bed for a long few moments, like she was trying to determine if he was actually going to stay awake or not, and then finally turned and said, "I'll be right back."

His attention back on his love, Frank affectionately stroked his cheek, remaining silent because he was completely unsure what he could say. Gerard's fingers closed around Mikey's wrist, and he brought his brother's arm to his chest. Mikey immediately stirred, blinking open his eyes, murmuring the older's name.

Closing his eyes again without ever looking at the two directly, Gerard winced, biting his lip but unable to stop tears from beginning to stream down his face, uncertain why he even cared.

Mikey brought the thumb of his free hand to his mouth and chewed on the nail, trying to calm himself before he cried as well. The tears came anyway, and he scooted closer, burying his head in Gerard's shoulder.

"Gee…" the blonde began, shakily, "I…" He trailed off, the overwhelming shock of almost having lost his brother—the only true family he had left—almost proving too much for him. He wanted to ask why, but he didn't. He wanted to express how angry and upset and hurt he was, both that Gerard had tried this and the fact he'd apparently felt he couldn't talk to his own brother, but he couldn't. He instead went quiet, squeezing his eyes shut, protectively holding onto the older with no plans of releasing him anytime soon.

Biting his lip, taking Gerard's other hand, Frank looked back at the door as Dr. D and Skye returned. The Doc rolled his scooter to the side Gerard was on and cleared his throat, eyeing Gerard as he blinked up at him and then shut his eyes again, turning his head against Mikey's hair.

"Gerard—"

"Leave me alone." he mumbled, almost inaudibly, and Frank stroked his hand.

"I can't," the man continued. "You need to talk to me."

The twenty-four-year-old didn't move, but didn't protest, either, and so the man swallowed hard and went on. "What would have made you think you had to do that?"

Humiliated, Gerard remained silent for the longest time, and then released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Hurts."

"You?"

"Everything."

"Someone hurt you."

Gerard was surprised to hear the words were not spoken as a question, but as a confirmation. He blinked his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. "No."

"I'm trying to help you..."

"Who cares…?" Gerard finally asked, and Skye let out a soft sigh. "We do. We all do."

"You shouldn't..."

"We should, and we do," she said, her tone a clear ending to the argument. "Now what happened? Was it something when you were held at BLI?"

Frank bit his lip when his love flinched, squeezing the hand in his tighter. It's already happened…they're just words now…you can't change it. You have to tell. Tell them!

Before he knew it, the beginning of a sentence had tumbled out of his mouth. "When we were there…"

"No!" Gerard said, shaking his hand free from his boyfriend, and Mikey tightened his grip. "You can't…"

Not allowing himself to stop long enough to have thoughts of changing his mind, Frank kept his eyes on his boyfriend and continued. "We were…when we…Korse…he—"

"He fucked us!" Gerard suddenly spat out, and then entire world seemed to collapse onto the shoulders of every person in the room, time standing still. Skye covered her mouth and sat down on the edge of the bed like her legs had given out, Dr. D closed his eyes and lowered his head, and Mikey jerked up into a sitting position. He stared at the two of them, pleading with every fiber in him that he'd misunderstood—heard wrong—anything!

Frank had gone pale, though, his breathing erratic as he stared off at some spot on the ground, and Gerard was trembling like it was ten degrees below zero, which was indefinitely all the confirmation he needed.

"And it was my Goddamn fault." the twenty-four-year-old added after a moment, weakly, and Frank's arms were around him faster than any of the other three could blink, his face pressed against Gerard's damp neck. "No," he was murmuring almost instantly, "No, baby, it wasn't, it wasn't…"

"Please…please, no, you should've let me die!"

Frank held him closer as he tried to pull away, kicking his foot under the bed and hooking it there for support.

"No one wants you dead, sweetie," Skye said, finally finding her voice again, and Gerard shook his head, mumbling something.

"What?"

"I'm worthless!" Gerard said, louder. "I'm so fucking worthless…"

"No, baby, you're not," Frank quietly said into his ear. "You're not. I love you, Mikey loves you—"

"No…"

"You mean everything to me, Gerard," Frank said, and Mikey made a squeak in agreement, his cheeks red, not sure whether he wanted to stalk down to the building himself and kill everyone he saw or cry. He instead opted for reaching out and touching Gerard's shoulder, absolutely horrified and afraid of upsetting him.

"You're still our leader," Dr. D pointed out finally. "We all still look up to you."

Gerard snorted, still never raising his gaze. "Like hell. You're crazy."

"We're not. We should, and we do."

The twenty-four-year-old squeezed Frank's wrist. "I let him..."

"No." Frank said sternly. "You didn't. It's over, Gerard. He won't touch you again, I promise."

The older Killjoy shuddered. "Don't care about me."

"I do. I care about you more than you'll ever know. And he won't. Not either of us, okay?"

"…'m so tired…"

Frank lifted his head a bit to kiss Gerard's cheek and then dropped it back down to rest in the crook of his neck. "It's okay. Just sleep, baby—you're safe. We're safe. I love you."

Gerard's eyelids drooped and then shut completely, and after a moment he feebly lifted a hand to touch Frank's side, feeling his love run a finger along his cheek before he began to drift off.

It was silent for a long minute as Gerard's breathing slowed and evened out, and then Frank closed his eyes as well and wished nothing more than to be away from the room. He couldn't stand everything he was feeling—guilt, shame, embarrassment—it was overwhelming, and he suddenly wondered if that was exactly what Gerard had been feeling this entire time—what he would have been feeling himself if he hadn't forced himself to somehow avoid the worst of it. It immediately didn't seem so ridiculous that he'd simply wanted to get away from it all. He'd of course chosen the wrong way to go about that, but he wasn't to blame.

Then, Dr. D heaved a long sigh, shifting in the scooter. "I know it's not gonna help, but…I'm sorry."

Frank numbly shook his head, feeling Mikey shift away from his side, letting out a sudden breath. "I'll…he…are you…?"

Unable to handle any of the questions he knew he was going to start receiving if he stayed, he nuzzled Gerard for a brief moment and then got off of him and the bed completely, stumbling briefly before he quickly went out into the hallway, desperately searching for somewhere he could be alone and pushing open the door to the soundproof room, crying out in despair once he'd shut himself inside.

"Uh—"

Frank whipped around and slammed back against the door in surprise, his wide eyes on the girl standing in front of him, her hands up like he was pointing a weapon at her.

"Sorry," Bell murmured, "I—I was just…leaving."

Almost having the urge to stop her, the desire to be alone gone, Frank didn't move out of the way.

Bell frowned. "Are you okay?"

He averted his gaze without answering, and she winced. "Sorry. Really sorry. Stupid question, um—is he...doing okay?"

"No. I mean, for now, I guess. I…I don't know!" Frank shifted uncomfortably and then shook his head, stepping away from the door. "You can go, it doesn't matter."

Bell started forward, though not to the door, and Frank flinched as he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk?"

He glanced back at her slightly, his cheeks turning pink as he recalled she had heard what Gerard had said on the roof. "I don't know," he finally mumbled truthfully, and she gave him a little encouraging smile.

Eyeing her for a few moments longer, Frank then sighed and shoved his hands into his pocket, turning to face her completely and leaning against the wall. "I'm just…scared."

"Of…him?"

"…Yeah. I mean, no, I…" he closed his eyes and bit his lip. "Yeah. I am. For me and for G—Party. All of us really," he added with a humorless laugh, shrugging. "I mean, fucking look at us. We're Killjoys, and we're still hiding! We're supposed to be taking down BLI; that's why we escaped Battery in the first place!"

"We are," Bell reminded him. "We've already—"

"Taken out a broadcast, yeah, I know. Don't you think we could be doing anything more helpful?"

"The A.P. has plans, and we're part of them. We are being helpful!" She snorted as Frank shook his head. "What else do you want? Sneak into their building and see how it goes from there?

Frank looked at her, and she pointed at him as his eyes flashed with what she mistook for curiosity. "No."

"No, no, I wasn't—no. It's just…that's what we did last time, and…" he shifted. "We lost a lot of good people."

"I'm sorry," she sighed softly, crossing her arms. "We're doing as much as we can, okay?"

"I…I know, I guess, it's just…" he shook his head and shrugged like he simply hadn't anything else to say, and then stepped to the side, sitting in one of the chairs, putting the nail of his thumb to his mouth and biting it.

"Do you want me to leave?" Bell asked quietly, and he shrugged again, not looking back, hearing her walk out a moment later. His eyes watered and he didn't even try to fight the tears as they finally overwhelmed him, relieved he was alone and yet anxious at the same time. He suddenly didn't want to be by himself. He hadn't since they'd been captured, and had unknowingly been clinging to Gerard whenever he had the chance. His love was the only person that made him feel safe enough to be content, and, now that he thought about it, he was afraid to be without him. And that fear hadn't just started the night before, nor during their capture. Those events had only worsened it.

He'd been fearful of being ripped away from Gerard from the moment they'd first kissed. Every kiss, every night he had slept with him—it had all brought them one step closer to being caught, torn apart. And even after they had been, when Frank's father had prohibited contact of any kind with his love after their return from the Correction Center, he had been afraid. Words were one thing—he always had the option of sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet the older, and they'd done that. But what had frightened him the most—what still did—was being split up by their own emotions. It was something they had discussed in several of the meetings at three or earlier in the morning, when they'd simply held onto each other in the shadows, sitting against the side of some building, assuring they were obscured by one thing or another so as to not be caught by anyone who happened to walk or drive by.

Gerard hadn't always been as brave as he was now; nor had Frank. He clearly remembered them sharing their fears over the entire situation they were in, scared to death and unable to do anything about it. They weren't in control, something that was required if they were going to remain together. Gerard's parents had been thrilled of his continued refusal to take the medication, even after the torture BLI had inflicted them with at the center to obey. They didn't take the medication, either. Yet Frank's parents had been far less lenient, specifically his father. The man had taken it upon his duty to make Frank as miserable as possible without even knowing it. He had almost choked his son at one point on accident as he'd tried to force the pills to be taken, striking him when he'd still refused despite his mother's cries, and it was in that moment that Frank had decided he had absolutely nothing to live for but Gerard.

And in fact, that night, the then-seventeen-year-old had shown up beneath his window, chucking pebbles at the glass until Frank had finally heard him and opened it with wide eyes, stepping out onto his balcony and looking down at the beautiful figure, immediately spellbound by the way the moonlight fell across his raven-black hair, causing it to shine even brighter, the shadows creeping and dancing across his face. But it hadn't been a willing visit, as he'd realized a moment later when he'd finally noticed Mikey behind him, clutching Gerard's arm like his life depended on it and visibly shaking.

"What happened?" fourteen-year-old Frank asked worriedly, horrified at the expression the older gave him. "Frank…they took them."

"T-took who?"

"Our parents." The reply was hardly a whisper, and Frank leaned against the metal banister, trying to both get closer to them from two stories up and hear him better. "What? When?"

"Just then…" Gerard was crying now, stifling the noises, but the tears sparkled like tiny diamonds as they fell down his cheeks. "We ran, Frank. I—I d-don't know if…they're coming for us, too, or—" he cut off and exclaimed as there was a siren in the background, gripping Mikey and pulling him to stand in front of him, desperate for someone to hold onto. He was terrified, more terrified than Frank had ever seen him before. "I don't know…"

"God, I'm so sorry," Frank tried to think. He couldn't let them stay there, his father would kill them all! And Gerard knew that; he'd been both witness and victim to what the man was capable of doing, especially to whom he thought had turned his son gay. "Gee, I don't—"

"Wh-what happened to your eye?"

Frank frowned at the sudden question, gingerly reaching up to touch the dark, swollen skin beneath it. "I got in a fight with my dad."

"He hurt you."

His frown only increasing, Frank looked him over. "He does it all the fucking time! Why do you look so surprised?"

Gerard hesitated, like he was wondering whether or not to speak the words on his tongue. "Run away with us."

"What?" Any emotion Frank had been showing vanished into astonishment.

"You heard. Run away with us, Frank. With me."

"I…"

"He won't hurt you anymore. I—I don't know if they're gonna come for us, or for you next, but…if we leave, they can't hurt us."

Frank bit his lip, considering the idea.

"We'll find where we belong, okay?"

"And if we can't?"

"We'll make it, anyway. On our own; just you, me, and Mikey." he grinned weakly, trying not to show how much pain he was in. Not all of it was from the bruises and cuts he and his trembling little brother had both acquired from their daring escape from the police not ten minutes before—he was in utter agony, emotionally. This was the moment that everything either started anew or ended. And he just couldn't take that second option; it would kill him.

A smile tugged at Frank's lips, until he pursed them in a brief kiss and ducked back inside, grabbing the only belonging he cared about—a necklace his grandfather had given him—and then climbed out onto the balcony again, clearing his throat so Gerard would look up at him again. "I want to, Gerard."

Gerard staggered slightly like he'd nearly fainted with relief, holding up his hand as if for the younger to take it, and Frank grinned again, grabbing onto the railing and lifting his legs over it to stand on the outside, wary. The first time he'd done this, years ago, to spend the night with Gerard, he'd missed the bush below and landed wrong, fracturing his ankle. And even after he'd healed, he'd still snuck out the same way, and had never had another accident, but he was frightened every time.

He took a deep breath finally, murmuring, "I feel like we're in that stupid play, you know?"

Able to find just a bit of humor, even after every awful thing that had occurred, Gerard gave a little chuckle. If he didn't laugh, he would cry. And he was the oldest. Crying when others looked up to him simply wasn't something he was ever willing to do. "Then fucking jump, Juliet!"

Frank winced and then released the metal, landing quietly and thankfully softly in the bush, which Gerard helped him out of instantly, jerking him into a brief kiss and then taking his hand, suddenly looking at him seriously. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure I love you," Frank responded. "I'm sure I want to go wherever you do."

Gerard held back a sob, and Frank tightened his grip, glancing at Mikey. "Then let's go."

Frank snapped out of the memory, gasping like he'd been incapable of getting air the entire time. That had been the night that allowed him to be where he was at the very moment, and it was almost frightening to remember so vividly.

He stood, unable to stay still, walking over to place his hands on the small windowsill, trying to peer out between the practically microscopic cracks in the blinds, disconsolate when he found he couldn't see anything.

He frowned, suddenly wondering how many other people—how many children—in the city may have been off their medications, even just for a moment, peering out of their own windows with the same thoughts, reminiscing of the times they could have freely done whatever they wanted, loved whomever they wanted, without a worry of it all being destroyed in the blink of an eye.

Do we really even have a chance?

Turning away from the window, his eyes settled on the guitar beside him, and he hesitantly reached out to tug at one of the strings, smiling sadly at the soft sound.

They did have a chance. No matter how small it was, it was still a chance, and a chance worth taking at that. Maybe growing up too fast had been exactly what all of them needed to become who would return everything to normal. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought, but it was enough for his tears to stop, and he sighed, sitting again, staring thoughtfully at the instrument. It was possible that soon, once they'd destroyed BLI, something he was very confident they would accomplish, music could be played again. Of course, no one would be doing it immediately—there would be so much to figure out without the company controlling everyone, but…eventually.

"My Chemical Romance," he mumbled as he remembered what Mikey had titled their false band, running his finger gently along the smooth strings. Maybe they really could become something of a band one day; he'd always wanted to be a guitarist, and that was something he could definitely be excited about becoming sometime in the future.

The future…the future is bulletproof. That had been something Brett had told them before.

He smirked suddenly.

Can't wait to see how fucking bulletproof Korse is.

Bell, who had been leaning against the door of the room for the longest time, finally shifted, sighing softly and beginning to walk towards the kitchen, deep enough in thought where she did not notice Ashton until he very subtly nudged her shoulder as he passed.

She shook her head then, murmuring, "No."

"What?" the man asked, turning around in confusion.

Bell looked at him for a long while and then averted her gaze, leaning back against the counter and crossing her arms. "We're still…?"

"Nothing's changed."

Lowering her voice to such an inaudible level she was basically only mouthing the words, Bell bent forward slightly and gestured with her hand, glaring at the man. "He just tried to fucking kill himself! How has nothing changed?"

Ashton hardly noticed her, his eyes behind her to assure no one walked in. "Oh, I didn't thank you for making sure he didn't? Good work."

"I don't—" Bell cut herself off and closed her eyes, and Ashton frowned. "What?"

She shook her head, biting her knuckles, and Ashton glared at her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "What were you going to say?"

"…Nothing."

He gave a fake smile and released her. "I thought so."

Bell swallowed hard and went out into the living room, sitting on the edge of the couch and looking out of the cracks in the blinds at the incoming daylight, struggling to disregard the Killjoys. The Killjoys that knew absolutely nothing of what she did.

What've I gotten myself into…?