Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, the characters, world and general storyline are property of Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria. Coheed and Cambria is a concept band. Their songs detail an epic science fiction story. This fanfiction is an interpretation of the story contained in their songs and comics, it isn't a fanfiction about the band, and thus does not violate any of TOS. It is also important to note that Claudio Kilgannon is not the same person as Claudio Sanchez. C. Sanchez, the lead singer and brain of the band has publicly admitted that he giving the lead character in his story his name.

After Coheed and Cambria had killed their two youngest, they were left with a conundrum. They had several hours before a representative from the Red Army was coming to pick them up, and nothing to occupy their minds save the blood that was on their hands. The only things that the could think about were Maria and Matthew, lying cold on the floor, and the growingly apparent fact that they were not going to be able to take the lives of their two oldest easily. It was unlikely even that they would be able to do so before the Red Army came. Claudio's curfew was 24:00. He was spending the evening with his girlfriend, it was highly unlikely that he would be home by 21:13…and as for Josephine, they only had the vaguest idea of where she was. The terrifying prospect of what would happen if she wasn't killed loomed heavy in the back of their minds. The concept of the planets of sector 11 flying wantonly through the universe sent shivers down their spines.

Meanwhile, Josephine was glowering in the passenger seat of her fiancée's car. She had spent the better part of the last hour complaining bitterly about her father. Patrick had endured this with perfect grace for the first few minutes, but her griping was starting to get on his nerves, "You're nearly 23, why don't you just move the hell out of your parent's house."

"You know how hard it is to get an apartment, at least one that isn't riddled with drug dealers and prostitutes."

Patrick gave her an antagonistic look. Josephine and he had gone back and forth several times about his apartment, "Jesus, I'm just out of school. I don't know what you expect."

Josephine gestured vaguely outside the window, "Jersey City is scary, look at it."

"I live here. I see this every time I go outside. I really isn't that dangerous, just aesthetically displeasing."

"There is no way that the Red Army could patrol all of those abandoned buildings."

"Why would they need to?"

Josephine was about to speak, but instead she held her tongue. She knew that one of her father's biggest complaints about Patrick was his involvement with activities that fell into the 'not entirely legal' genre. Granted, she wasn't exactly happy with his recreational choices, but it wasn't her father's place to judge the sort of people she associated herself with. She shrugged half-heartedly, "Perhaps because that entire subculture is dangerous."

"Only if you're stupid about it. Besides, the Army's purpose is to protect the Keywork. You know, terrorists and all that crap."

Josephine had no real response to that. She was a member of the school of believe that a government should serve and protect its individuals from tangle threats. Phantom stories of a rebellion did nothing for her, she felt as if they just pushed the Fence closer to another Mage war. The first war between the Prise and the Mages had been a bloodbath. It was fortunate that it was long before her time. The parents of her generation saw only the last few years of a war that had lasted eons. She had never known life in warfare, but she wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of doing such. Wilhelm Ryan had been appointed supreme tri-mage at the war's end, he'd ruled God's Fence ever since then. The laws were a bit Spartan sometime (God knew that she had been written up enough times for breaking curfews) but all in all she didn't think that Ryan and his Red Army had really done anything that warranted rebellion.

As she and Patrick dove deeper into Jersey City familiar prickling of fear crept down her spine. The population of the colony has dropped dramatically since they had built the Gloria vel Vessa at the end of the first Mage war. The spaceport the largest in sector 11, and the only one equipped to travel between the sectors. However useful it might've been to the masses, nobody wanted to live near the noise of a spaceport. As the Gloria vel Vessa grew Jersey City's citizens fled. Save the poorest inhabitants of the colony that lacked the means to move to a location more suitable for living, most of the colony was abandoned. The old buildings were drift with drug lords and street gangs, "Patrick. I'm honestly scared. Let's just go to your place."

"Babe, I have some errands that I gotta run."

Josephine was silent once again. She just closed her eyes and sullenly crossed her arms over her chest. All of the things that Coheed had said about Patrick held a certain ring of truth to them, but it was too late now. There was no better way out of her life in Valley Hills. He tried to tell herself that Patrick knew what he was doing. After all, he lived around here, and if anything he was a prizefighter. He could protect her. She just had to pray to God that her assumptions were correct, down the street she saw the yellow jackets of the Jersey City Devils, "Patrick…"

"What babe?"

"I want to go home."

"Hah, you're afraid of those bastards? They're not going to bother us. Listen when you've lived in the old city for as long as I have you know that they don't really do anything other than vandalized old shit and take synthemesc."

"Patrick they're coming up to the car!"

"Babe, don't let them scare you…"

One of the Jersey Devils suddenly pulled a chain out of the depths of his pocket. Josephine let out an ear-splitting scream as the chain smashed into the windshield of the car. Everything was confusion and glass. Josephine couldn't tell what was happening, only that she heard Patrick yelling in the distance for her, she felt a heavy body against hers and a stranger's breath press near her neck…dear God…She screamed again as a stranger's hands held her down.

Coheed and Cambria were sitting silently in their living room. Neither one of them spoke, and in all honesty neither one of them had anything relevant to say to each other. They had killed their children. They weren't who they thought they were. Their entire world had just been rearranged in the span of a few hours. Cambria felt sick to her stomach, and slightly woozy. Old memories of what they had done before their memories were wiped returned to her whenever she let her mind wander too far, only, she couldn't really make any sense of them, and they all seemed to boil down to the simple fact that she had played a hand in killing her babies. She was nearly oblivious of her husbands growing delirium.

Coheed had fallen into a restless sleep, only one would hesitate to call it sleep. Faint images flickered through his mind, images of Josephine. He saw her in the car with Patrick. They were fighting, but Coheed couldn't tell what about. His dreams were in graytone and left out all but the barest of details. They were driving through the old part of Jersey City (That bastard!) and then everything seemed to blow up. Coheed was sure that he saw Mayo smash open the window of their car and then everything was a blur. In his dreams Coheed had merged reality with his own fiction. He saw his daughter get brutally raped, but it wasn't by the miscreants of Jersey City, it was by Mayo Deftinwolf. A bubble of rage burst in his sleep and he tried to call out to her to run. To run as fast as she could. To that Mayo turned and smiled and said, "When you run, we'll follow…"

Coheed woke up with a jolt and found himself sitting on his couch next to his wife. Cambria hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep and looked at him impassively. Coheed tried to shake the vision he had received from his dream. Cambria shook her head, "You shouldn't let dreams scare you…"

"Josephine…"

"Everything will be over soon."

Miles away, on the corner of an abandoned street in Jersey City a young couple lay in a mess of glass. Josephine had curled herself tightly into a ball and was leaning against Patrick's car trying to glean some sense of comfort from it. Patrick was sprawled bloody a few feet away from her. Her mind was stuck. She didn't know what to do, she couldn't move, she couldn't even check to see if Patrick was still breathing. The only thing she could think about was how she'd been violated. Her breath caught in her chest and she was shaking. Everything had gone wrong. Patrick hadn't listened to her. He wasn't able to save her. She just wanted to go home. She didn't want Patrick. The only man she wanted to be wrapped in was her father. He could protect her from anything…he wouldn't have let them do that to her…

Patrick stirred himself awake. His entire body ached horribly, but he didn't consider himself his first priority. He set his blackened and blurry eyes to Josephine. She looked certainly disheveled and exhausted, but alive, "My sweet Josephine…are you okay…?"

She stared blankly into middle space, and said absently, "Please take me home…"

"Listen," he painfully moved towards her and put his hands on her shoulders, "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry please. I didn't…I didn't. Do you want to go to the hospital?"

Her expression didn't change, "Please. I just want to go home…"

He helped her to her feet, and brushed glass off of her seat, cutting himself in the process. He felt rage bubble inside of him, "I'll make those bloody bastards pay. They'll be dead on the side of the road bloody and screaming and—"

"Please…just take me home."

Patrick, shaking with rage and weakness got into the diver's seat and, having no other choice, began driving her home.