A/N I've noticed you guys are not following my advice in sending me reviews. Really? I write the story and I decide when it's time to post it…I PLAY GOD FOR THIS FIC!…I advise you send me reviews!

Alright, so I decided to try something new: My/Crash Baby's POV. It's so weird to write about myself: you really should try it sometime. But this is really a test run, and if it crashes (pun intended) I won't care so much: 3rd person is my trademark style anyway.

One thing is I'm a little nervous about this chapter because it has some touchy stuff in it, as well as the fact that I'm giving my take on it. You'll get what I mean as you read on.

Disclaimer: I don't own My Chem…nor have I ever claimed to in the first place…

I held my breath. This was a topic I had never talked about much with...Bea. Because no matter how close we were, the topic was taboo. Ghoul paused and glanced up at me from his magazine, entitled "Destruction". Figured that that should be what he was reading. Figured that should be what was keeping him quiet.

"Life before the bomb?" he asked, as though he hadn't heard me. He arched an eyebrow. I nodded with hesitation.

"Well kiddo, you were born into a fucked up time frame. Into a period full of all kinds of disasters packed into it. Hurricanes, tsunamis, tornados, earthquakes: the works. Not to mention a president who had the mental capacity of a 9 year old. We were in the middle of a pointless war, and nowhere close to ending it. He got us into it but had no idea how to get us out," he sighed. I squeaked.

"His name was George W. Bush wasn't it?" I asked. Ghoul nodded.

"A bumbling buffoon. Of course we had a president afterwards, as well as on our way into the next election."

I frowned.

"Ghoul, I don't honestly care much for politics. Could you please just tell me what the world was like before it all?" I asked, though there was a sharp edge in my voice I had not used intentionally,"Please?" I added softly, my voice like a child's. I hadn't known myself capable of using such a voice. Something to keep in mind for when I needed it.

He sighed and gave me puppy dog eyes.

"The world, from what I can recall, was like one big beautiful mouse trap," he said sadly but simply. I cocked my head in confusion.

"Whattdya mean?" I inquired. He smirked.

"The world was on its way to creating groundbreaking new technology, buildings. Hell, even the plastic surgery seemed to be getting better. But we were paranoid as fucking hell. The terrorist attack of '01 left everyone in a tizzy. From that point on we made a pastime of pointing our stubby fingers at any person at all and accusing them of being terrorists. We were setting ourselves up for a bad fall."

It was my turn to arch an eyebrow.

"And the fall began with the bomb?" I asked.

He nodded solemnly.

"The bomb, the bomb," he crooned, "How can I forget the moment the nuclear bomb went off? I was with these guys," he nodded to the separate rooms in which the other killjoys resided, "right here, in this room. The waves couldn't hit us down here. This had been Bob's place...before they got to him. They got to him and he was never the Bob we knew again. He was just Better Living Industries zombie. But anyway," he faltered, "after that bomb people sought any kind of help they could find. We were all vulnerable; we had all lost someone to the explosion. And immediately the BL/ind people popped up, offering supplements that to rid them of their pain," he shook his head.

"Doesn't seem like a coincidence does it?" I asked, feeling blank. It was hard to discuss something like this when you couldn't remember much of it yourself. Ghoul shook his head.

"No, it doesn't. And unfortunately people being in the state they were in didn't think twice about it."

Thoughts swirled through my mind relentlessly.

"But why...?" I asked, my voice lingering in the suddenly still air. Ghoul shrugged.

"I don't know. I've thought about it myself many times and I could never think of anything that completely fit. I just know that this shit happened, and that we lost one of our best friends to it. And the people who survived it and haven't into the BL/ind assholes are heartbroken and in hiding. And some even try to fight them like us," he said, pursing his lips, "but getting back to your point: I think it was lust for power. That's the only logical thing I can think of."

I thought this over carefully. It was the only logical think I could think of as well. But it just didn't seem to fit...

"But does it have to be logical?" I asked, interrupting Ghoul's reading once again. He cocked his head and seemed to ponder my question.

"Suppose not. But then there would be no true way of knowing what was going through their heads...hell, what still is, if there is anything at all," he said harshly.

I shook my head. While the logic department was lacking, the possibilities in the illogical seemed endless. Did logic even matter? Because here it seemed to go right out the window. And the only thing that seemed to matter much was the outcome. What was logic anyway? Was it just a mere boundary to which we are trained to think in? All these questions were making me dizzy, and I plopped down on the couch next to Ghoul weakly. He smiled wryly.

"Mind fuck?" he asked. I nodded.

"I hear ya. The possibilities seem endless if you stop and think about it."

I rolled my eyes weakly.

"Ya don't say," I murmured. I made it only too obvious that all this had screwed with my head. Ghoul put down his magazine and sat up straight next to me, and patted me on the back. I breathed slowly.

"You never really get used to it, but you learn to stop questioning it altogether. All that really matters is where we're at now. That's what we really have to deal with," he explained gently. I found it truly incredible this was the same man who squealed at the thought of chocolate chip pancakes. But at the moment I knew needed to stay on topic.

"And how long does that adjustment usually take?" I asked. He draped his arm around me and gave me a little hug type thing.

"Could be a while kiddo. But you do get used to it," he hugged me. I decided to forget the weird side hug and hug him the normal way.

"Thanks Ghoul. It's nice to know I'm not completely crazy," I smiled.

"No worries little sis; If you ever need anyone to assure you don't belong in a straight jacket you know you can come to me or the rest of the guys. We all think on the same lines, we Killjoys. To the point it's a little creepy," he shrugged, scratching his head. I playfully flicked his head.

"Have I ever told you I'm thoroughly convinced you have Dissociative Identity Disorder?" I asked smirking. He just cocked his head.

"Care to clarify, mini genius?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes: I didn't much like compliments. Especially ones that didn't hold particularly true to me.

"Multiple personalities. Every morning you wake me up and beg me to make you friggin' pancakes and then there this side of you. Is there another personality in there named Suzy too? Seriously, you're just so unpredictable it almost seems impossible you wouldn't!" I laughed. He smiled with me.

"Nope, that's all normal for me doll. Tomorrow I could be running around in drag calling myself Suzy but still be me. And be me in a considerably normal state," he smiled smugly.

"And you know what? I couldn't love you any other way," I said honestly with a smile.

"Flattery will get you nowhere little sis!" he teased and I playfully punched his arm. He winced.

"Aw, please don't try to kill me!" he cried

"Wimp," I muttered. Before I knew it I was sprawled on the couch, kicking my legs furious being tickled. I was laughing hysterically.

"No no no no no! STOP IT!" I was practically screaming. Ghoul himself was turning red and laughing hysterically as well, but he had made it clear he didn't plan on giving up so easily.

The others were running into the room right after they heard me shouting at Ghoul. For a moment they simply observed the situation at hand before joining Ghoul in tickling me.

"DAMN TRAITORS!" I yelled at them in between fits of laughter. Tears were beginning to stream down my eyes. That was something I had never laughed hard enough to experience before. I tried to push against them but I couldn't: they were too damn strong! I was losing any air in my lungs and trying to catch my breath desperately. I could feel my face turning red! I closed my eyes and let the laughter flow out of me as it may. What was point in fighting it? I grabbed Kobra's hand and pulled him down next to me. Jet, Poison and Ghoul exchanged glances again, and I had a moment to catch my breath. And Kobra had a look on his face that clearly said "Oh shit" and he turned to me and gave me a look that can only be described as a "you owe me" glare. I stuck my tongue out at him and smiled.

"You're going down with me bud. Deal with it," I muttered breathlessly, making him struggle to keep up the pissy facade.

And in that same second they were at me again. It was quite some time before they fell to the floor laughing.

"Have I ever told you guys that you are crazy?" I asked, my face probably as red as my lipstick.

Jet smiled.

"Only a couple hundred times a day, why?"

I grinned.

"Because I've never been so happy to be surrounded by insanity," I said.

The silence closed in on all of us like an envelope. I cursed myself for saying anything. Poison was the first to say something.

"You know what Crash?" he asked.

"What?" I responded, trying not to sound nervous.

"I love you, you little kook. We're just as happy to have you here as you to have us," he said tenderly.

I bit my lip hard and tried to hold down the lump forming in my throat. Tears were in my eyes, and I didn't plan on letting them spill.

"Damn you Poison! You know I'm emotionally fragile right now!" I mumbled jokingly in an unstable voice, but still trying to make it clear I wasn't sad. Within seconds he had me in a bear hug. I let the tears spill and I smiled: so this was what it felt like to be safe. Never felt safe in my entire life and here I was with a gang of rogue artists who could have passed as a motorcycle gang. I really need to find some sort of normalcy. The other Killjoys left the room quietly, and I let myself feel slightly more relaxed.

"Hey Poison?" I squeaked after a few minutes.

"Mmhmm?"

"What's going to happen out there?" I asked. It was something that had been nibbling at my thoughts.

"We're going to fight for what we believe in and hope we kick ass," he said simply.

"Yeah, um, in order to kick ass I need to know how to fight..." I murmured.

"Are you alluding to something?" he asked smugly.

"Yeah...I need help in the ass kicking department."

A/N and so it is that I conclude this awesome chapter. Or at least I thought it was awesome. In order to know if it was, I need feedback. Do you see where I'm going with this? Yup, reviews again.

But tell me: what did you think of my explanation of how 2019 got the way it was? Anyone out of character? Because if there was I can correct that in the next chapter. Suggestions? Want to maybe be in this fic later on? (Got it planned out for the most part and there will be opportunities to get in on the action).