A/N hello my darling runaways! I'M SO SORRY! It's taken me so long to post this because, as I mentioned in my random update, I did not have a working computer. There wasn't a single way I could post anything for a long time. Anywho, I just got a Mac for my 16th birthday, and this thing has a program similar to Microsoft Word. It's close enough for me: all I need is autocorrect, bold, italics and underline and I'm all set. I've got a bundle of chapters I've written ahead, and because I owe all of you, my dedicated readers, I'll post them as often as I can this week. I hope I haven't lost all of you because of this wait :( I swear I've been working hard to keep this story alive. REVIEW MY PRETTIES, REVIEW! I want to know I've still got you by my side on this.

Disclaimer: as much as I wish I had gotten MCR as a birthday present, i didn't. You know the deal: I don't own jack shit.

The next few days were a blur. A big fat blur filled with confusion, and a blank mind. The whole secret-real-names-and-not-completely-understanding-why-they're-so-secret thing had gotten to my head enough that it was one of the main things I thought about. The names Gerard and Mikey floated through my brain like mist over a placid lake.

After my conversation with Ko-...Mikey, I found that we shared a closer bond than we had before. There wasn't as much tension and we were getting along better than you might think. We chatted on a daily basis, and often went into laughing fits. But that was mostly me, since he and the rest of the killjoys had a tendency to randomly tickle me. Ha. Call me Tickle-Me-Sarah, why don't you? I don't think Elmo would mind. It's not plagiarism if the franchise has been annihilated, right?

Trying to think of ways to approach the guys with the question of their names...it's a lot harder than you'd imagine. You've got to figure out the right place and the right time. And what I figured out was that they all had to be alone, and in a quiet environment. And let me tell you, that wasn't easy since we live in a small underground apartment. The only place you could truly achieve peace was in the bathroom. No joke.

Today is relatively quiet, and most of the guys have gone out to meet someone named Dr. D. Could very well be the man who goes by the codename "Doctor Deathdefying." I've heard his name before, but I never thought that they had direct contact with him. What a wonder my boys are.

But Jet was sitting by himself on the couch reading a magazine on the mechanics of their Trans Am. These guys and their thing with magazines, I'm telling ya. And I'm the teenage girl in this equation, not them. If there was anyone with a right to magazines, it was me.

I gulped. This was the perfect time.

Shiiiiiiiit, I don't want to do this, I don't know how he's going to react.

But before I knew it, I had forced myself to walk. My conscience is screaming. And I'm as silent as a mouse.

Jet turns around and notices me.

"Hey Crash," he greeted, sounding surprised to see me. Now I knew for sure there would be no turning back.

"Hey Jet!" I smiled, the gesture obviously forced. Kobra had made this seem like a horrible thing to ask of them, but I felt like I had to know. I hated myself for that last bit because of how selfish it was.

"What are you doing here, I thought you'd be going with them to see Dr. D?" he asked me with a small smile, apparently glad to see me despite the shock.

I ran my fingers through my hair awkwardly, my fingerless gloves catching slightly. I could use a haircut, my conscience squeaked in an undertone, while the main thing flashing through my mind was the question of how to bring up the topic of names.

"Same…I mean, I didn't expect you to be here either. They told me to stay behind though, because they figured it could be risky...though I don't know why they'd be worried if I've been doing all this self defense training..." I drifted. He motioned for me to sit with him, a smile on his face.

"They're just protective of you, that's all. It has nothing to do with how capable they think you are of fighting Dracs off. We like knowing you're safe," he explained warmly. I shrugged.

"I guess. I wouldn't mind going above ground though. I don't mean to sound ungrateful-," I said with my hands up,

"-You just would like some fresh air," he nodded smiling, his Afro bouncing, "Understandable."

"Exactly," I grinned, the nervousness losing some of its edge. He at least understood my mindset. He messed up my hair playfully, making me feel like a child.

"Don't worry; you'll get out of here sometime. We're not going to hold you prisoner forever."

I smiled and rolled my eyes.

"I'd hope not!" I laughed, though it sounded slightly stiff, the question at hand still top priority in my mind.

"What's bugging ya, mini killjoy?" he asked with a slight smile and eyes full of concern. Shit. Am I that easy to read? I rubbed my neck, suddenly becoming fidgety.

"It's nothing really...," I murmured. This was not how I had planned this conversation to go. He cocked his head and me and gave me a look that was clearly disbelieving.

"Something is bothering you, Crash, and I'm not going to ignore it," he said firmly.

I sighed and my face fell into my awaiting hands in my lap.

"Why oh whhhy do you have to see right through me and be such a good person about it?" I grumbled.

"Hate to tell you little sis, but you haven't got a very good pokerface. You might as well write 'I am miserable' on your forehead. And it's called having morals. Doesn't necessarily make me a good person," he said, trying to dismiss the compliment, "Now, spit it out."

I let my shoulders slump, and I mumbled into my hands.

"I was thinking about the days before the bomb... And I had to wonder...what is your name?" I squeaked, expecting this to crash and burn. Just as my name implied.

"Jet Star," he said automatically, his face slightly blanched. His expression was nearly blank, and the remaining emotion was pained. I shook my head and closed my eyes.

"Jet...please no games...it's just a question that boggled my mind," I said, my face turning pink and tears welling up in my eyes. As much I tried to blink them away, they wouldn't leave. I let my hair fall over my face. I heard Jet sigh.

"Why would such a little, unimportant thing like that bother you?" he asked. He sounded agitated and a bit sad.

"I don't know Jet..!...I just was wondering about it..." I tried to explain. But how could you ever explain something so internal with mere words? I didn't plan on betraying Kobra, despite how much easier it would make this situation.

"But what does it matter Crash? Even if I told you my name, nothing would change," he said. He sounded hurt. My mind raced, trying to grasp the fact that this was going down in flames. No, no, no! I can't be hurting him! Jet, please don't do this to me!

"Jet...It's just something that's been eating away at me. Please, please, don't take it to heart," I murmured. I was pleading him now as I braced myself for the rush of oncoming sorrow.

"I would take it to heart if you even thought of calling me anything but 'Jet Star'," he said. The damn tears were brimming in my eyes.

"Why can't you tell me?" I asked, my voice only a mere wisp of wind.

"It doesn't matter Crash! A name is only a word! And I don't even use it anymore!" he said defensively. He sounded like someone who was being accused of a murder they hadn't committed, and it scared me to the bone: I'd never seen him like this. Ever.

I didn't say anything for a long time. What I was thinking wasn't meant to be spoken. But I said it anyway.

"Jet...how can I ever feel like I truly know who you are if I don't even know your name?" I asked quietly. He was stunned into silence.

"A name is just a word though..." he said weakly, "does it really mean that much to you Crash?" he asked. I could see the defeat on his face, and felt like hugging him, but I knew that would seem wrong at this very moment.

"Yes...," I said. He shook his head.

"Alright then...it's Ray. Ray Toro," he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "or at least it was anyway."

I hugged him, deciding the timing was right, and the shock of the foreign word still fogging my brain.

"Ray! I love it! You can be my little Ray Of Sunshine!" I squealed and he laughed.

It was at that moment though that I realized however, that if I really wanted to persist in finding out their names, it was not going to be a piece of cake.

A/N oh man, Crash has no idea. Wait…I have no idea. What the fuck? I'm me but I'm not me! I swear, this whole "writing-yourself-into-one-of-the-characters-to-your-own-story" thing is very, very, mind-blowing at times. Honestly, this is one of the reasons I don't need drugs: I've got this to screw with my head already. So what do you think, my little victims of futuristic circumstance? Is Crash begging for trouble? Is what she's doing selfish? Is there going to be something to stop her from learning the truth about the killjoys? Does she need to stop butting into people's biz and just live life in the present? Or is she right in questioning the past? REVIEW! I WANT FEEDBACK AND WANT TO KNOW IF YOU GUYS ARE STILL WITH ME HERE! :O