A/N HEYLO MY CHICKADEES :D I know, this is long overdue . Waaaaaaaaaaaaay overdue (pun intended). But in the past few months I have 1. Dated a complete psycho 2. Broken up with a complete psycho 3. Rebuilt myself from ashes and 4. Currently dating a new guy who actually is more than I could have ever asked for. On top of that, I'm trying to keep my grades in school as high as possible. I've set a goal for myself to be on the honor roll. I've been dealing with emotionally distressed friends, being asked to prom, my art teacher is making me redo a project 2 days before it's due, and experimenting with trying out for the track team (…which ended badly.)

All in all, it's been completely and totally, without a doubt, INSANE.

I wanted to thank you guys though, for being here and supporting this story. Even though this story isn't my entire life, having people support something I love so much during a time like this means a lot.

3 So thank you 3

Enjoy the long, well deserved chapter. Hopefully I'll have more up soon, or at least soon-ish.

Disclaimer: MCR is not mine, though they are on my Christmas wish list.

I shuffled nervously with Poison at my side. I was nothing but smiles, yet the ache of nervousness ate away at me. I never could have foreseen this: I never would have thought that my new family could replace my old one, let alone wish to guide me with reuniting with them. Family. The word its self had become unfamiliar on my tongue. Yet it seemed perfectly normal to be referring to them as such.

"Hey Baby, would you get a move on? We can only walk so fast without stepping on your feet," Ghoul grumbled behind me. I smiled, that one daunting word sparking my instincts that had temporarily disappeared. I spun around to face him.

"Don't call me that," I retorted, my tone not too serious. My neon pink nails sparkled expectantly on the stairway railing.

"What? Baby?" he asked with mock innocence. I knew perfectly well of the game he was playing.

"Yes, Grumbling Fool, that," I smirked. I knew how much he detested my nickname for him. I knew it annoyed him almost, if not as much, as my own.

I stuck my out my tongue at him.

He tickled my side. I giggled, losing my composure. My foot nearly slipped on the stair it was on. Ghoul didn't fail to notice this. I sent him a serious glare.

"Not here, not now. I don't feel like falling to my death or breaking a limb," I frowned. He nodded: I could tell he didn't like the mental image much either.

Kobra closed in on me from behind. It took me a minute to realize why: if I slipped, he could catch my fall. I smiled at him gently, and he fidgeted a bit before returning my grin. He literally had my back.

"Come on slow poke!" Poison daunted lightly before leading the way once more. The stairwell was dark, and the air was earthy and even dusty, the steps worn past the point of hope of even polishing them or fixing them up. Was that the work or my killjoys or the old occupants of this building?

Every stair was agonizing and the number of questions in my head doubled by the second. Would the world be the same as I remembered it? Would my friends recognize me? Would Dracs spot us? Would we be able to make it with the children? Were they even going to be in the same place I remembered?

I groaned.

Too much thinking.

At this rate I am going to implode.

I turned to Ray, who was at my far right. I looked at the approaching stairs and back at him. He knew what this meant. He smiled and shrugged. What could go wrong? I followed his lead: I shrugged and shook my head, a simple frown gracing my face. I don't know. But I don't want to think about it.

I felt my ray gun sitting readily in its holster. Each rhinestone was a reminder that there was the inevitable: The Good vs. The Bad. That someone was going to win and another lose. One side would be dusted while the other would take root. Were we the good guys or the bad guys?

I closed my eyes.

Now's not the time for an identity crisis, Sarah.

I shook my short but full bodied mane of brown wavy hair, forbidding further thoughts on the topic from my mind. Recently I'd deciding cut it short would be much lighter and easier to maintain. My hair, that is.

"Baby, why didn't you tell us earlier?" Ghoul asked from my immediate left in front of me. My hand gripped the railing as a wave of dizziness hit me.

Why hadn't I?

Was it fear of rejection? Fear of pity? Or flat out fear of not knowing what the reaction would be in general? Or could it have been that I had just wanted to forget and start over...?

"I don't know Ghoul. Honestly, I don't even know if it even occurred to me as being relevant."

I sighed. Sometimes all I wanted was to forget everything I had known. There was little point in dwelling in the past. But it somehow always managed to bounce back at me without my permission, and infect my consciousness. And I hated that.

Kobra grabbed my hand from behind and shot me the kind of look that pierced my heart. You don't need to lie. It's okay.

I half heartedly smiled before shaking my head modestly. Thank you. I patted his hand.

"Will you be okay?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I have absolutely no clue, Kobra," I grimaced.

He patted my shoulder and I sighed, feeling the concerned gaze of the rest of my killjoys. The blush rose to my cheeks; when had I become the subject of attention and worry? Attention not being something I was capable of handling, I took another step up the stairs.

"Well come on, we want to make it by nightfall, not dawn. They'll have patrols out by then," I said with false enthusiasm.

I knew they were exchanging concerned glances, but I keep going up the stairs, hoping that my falsely cheery facade was infectious, and more importantly, believable.

My voice was light and effortless as I stared upwards to the next flight of stairs. The stairs themselves seemed never ending.

"I don't wanna know,
I don't wanna go,
I don't gotta know where I'm gonna die."

I sang under my breath, doubting very much that the sound could carry down to them, so I didn't feel the need take caution or stop singing.

"I don't wanna know,
I don't wanna go,
I don't gotta know where I'm gonna die," I sang, something almost as edgy as fury in my voice.

"Scratch the mark,
Spit casually.
The heart you got ain't the one you need!" I sang, my voice hushed,
I'm at a loss
because of tragedy!
The life you got ain't the one you need!"

Me singing to myself was NOT going to calm me down. Especially not the kind of song I was singing. It only wracked my nerves as I wondered that despite my low volume and the distance, the possibility that my friends had heard me. Fuck. Fuck fuckity fuck. PERFECT.

I let a growl sound in the back of my throat. Why must you open your big red rimmed mouth, Sarah?

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I mentally chastised myself until I couldn't think anything, and could only blankly stare ahead. Stairs. More stairs. I had never realized how deep underground we were until that moment. I couldn't help but wonder if this had been a complete building before the bomb.

I turned around for a moment and saw a sight that to me was all I needed to live: the faces of the men loved me and had taken care of me. I was Snow White, and they were my dwarves: Sassy, Awkward, Dopey and Scruffy.

I tried to stifle a giggle as a mental image of an old almost unheard of cartoon popped into my head, the faces of my heroes' midget sized and appropriately faced and hatted. The movie itself had long been missing from the world, but from the little I could remember of life before the bomb, I could remember the animated movie making me smile. Even if the princess had been nothing but pampered, and faced virtually no challenges. All she did was break a promise and sleep for a little while, a typical damsel in distress.

Things like this pissed me off. Fairytales made women seem weak and reliant. Sleeping Beauty slept for the same reason as Snow White: she couldn't listen. And once again, she had to be saved by a prince. Ariel disobeyed her parents and went to the sea witch, and when faced with the choice of stabbing her prince to become a mermaid again, she chose to plunge the magic dagger into herself and become sea foam. At least in the Brothers Grimm version. But once again, more obedience issues. Why couldn't s princess be smart and strong?

Why couldn't girls like Bea get that kind of recognition for being brave?

I breathed slowly. The number of steps seemed innumerable, and the walls felt narrower than ever.

"Does this place have a god damn exit?"

I asked, the annoyance in my voice palpable. My nerves were just about shot, and at the moment the thing I felt I'd most need was fresh air. It felt as thought I'd been climbing the same set of stairs for hours to no avail.

"No, we just have a never ending food supply down stairs," Kobra replied, being his snarky but awkward self. I smiled.

"That possibility is beginning to sound more and more probable."

I sighed and slumped against the railing.

"Tired?" Jet asked from behind me.

"What does it look like to you?" I replied.

"Cry baby," Ghoul snorted. I sent him a half hearted glare.

"Excuse me, but in don't think I've ever climbed so many stairs in my life," I retorted. I slid down the wall and let my head thud and hit the wall, "...ow.," I groaned. I let my eyes close, if only just to rest them for a minute.

I felt a boot jab my side. I let out a growl in the back of my throat.

"Come on lazypants. We haven't got all day, you said so yourself."

It was Ghoul's voice. I could have killed him.

I groaned loudly.

"Bite me," I mumbled

"Care to elaborate where?" Kobra smirked. I rolled my eyes warily, progressively getting more aggravated. One moment of silence, was that so hard to ask for? Just one. I need a minute to myself to breathe.

"If you don't shut up for a minute, I'm not going anywhere," I hissed, "i can't stand the constant voices in my fucking ear. Just be quiet! I can't even think!"

As there was a long uncomfortable pause, I felt the backlash of my words.

"Do you really want that? Because I could leave," Kobra offered, sounding resentful.

I sat there in utter shame of what I'd said. I hadn't meant it, and I hadn't meant for it to inflict pain.

"Do you?" he asked sharply.

I sat there slumped against the wall, muted by the mistake I'd made in my haste. I couldn't look him in the eyes. I couldn't look at any of them. I moistened my lips and kept my eyes on my hands.

"Of course I don't."

My voice was quiet. Ashamed. I couldn't bring myself to speak any louder. I knew I was being emotional in every way possible. I was snappy, and suddenly I was filled with remorse.

I could feel them all watching me, each waiting for the other to say something or make some kind of gesture. Kobra moved from my peripheral vision to kneeling in front of me. He looked me in the eyes, and I saw a small spark of fascination. I don't think he'd ever noticed the curious thing about my eyes before that. But just as quickly he was serious again.

"If you want me to leave, I could go right ahead now," he said, looking me dead in the eyes, hardly any space between us, "I can't go out there with you if you're not going to be able to endure this shit and snap at us. We're only here to support you, and we can't do that if you're bitching at us. At least I know I can't."

I closed my eyes, and I felt a hand grasp my shoulder.

"Can I have a minute with her alone?" Kobra's voice asked. There was silence and then footsteps.

"I'm sorry Mikey," I murmured. He stared at me I surprised recognition at his name, "I didn't mean to snap. I didn't mean to bitch at you. I'm so completely overwhelmed and wrecked. But that's not your fault. I can't believe I'm so stupid..."

I looked him in the eyes for the first time. My eyes were glassy with tears, which I would never, in order to preserve what little dignity I had at this point, let fall. Without warning he pulled me close to him, and held me tight.

"We all are Sarah. Most of the time I still can't even sleep at night. The day of the bomb plays on my eyelids on repeat. But we have to stick together. You can't be getting upset so easily because we need eachother. We're all eachother's got," he whispered conclusively. As the silence filled the air, I felt him stroke my hair lightly, almost protectively.

"I need you. All of you. I'm just so..." I grunted in frustration at my own lack of words,"...strained. I can't believe I snapped at you..." I gulped, trying to swallow the small lump in my throat that just kept coming back.

Kobra continued to stroke my hair. I was pressed to him, my head on his shoulder. He emanated warmth, and he'd gone from hostile to soothing. Slowly my muscles relaxed, and I felt increasingly at ease in his care.

"I'm so temperamental sometimes. I always have been since the bomb. And I don't think losing Bea has helped."

There was a broken quality to my voice. I was a self professed trainwreck, and I was more than certain that at this point Kobra was going to be more than glad to drop me like a hot ember. I'd pushed his buttons, what could I have possibly expected? Shits and giggles? Cupcakes with rainbow frosting?

"It's okay Sarah," he murmured. His voice was soft, softer than I'd ever heard it as long as I'd known him. "it's okay." he rubbed my back, and slowly I let myself sink into his arms in total surrender. "We need eachother. In this world, we're all eachother's got to fight for anymore. It's okay to be upset, because hell, all of us are. I know I am. But don't work against the people who need you and want to protect you. There are very few things we have, and the most important thing is our loyalty to eachother."

As I leaned into him in silence and inhaled his scent of gasoline, leather and a hint of something sweet, I sighed and just nodded. There was very little I could say.

"I'm always here for you if you need me," he whispered, "if you need cookies and warm milk, a joke, a pair of ears, anything," he pulled away from me and looked me in the eyes, "I'm always here."

There was a long pause as we maintained silent eye contact, an unspoken message relayed that could not possibly be said in words.

He slowly let go of me and stood up. He staggered a little from what appeared to be the symptoms of vertigo and I laughed in spite of myself. He smiled.

"Glad you enjoy my social inept-ness."

He held out his hand and helped me to my feet before brushing a stray hair away from my face.

"Stand tall. They can only break you if you let them."

Without further thought, I pulled him into a hug. I don't know what drove me to do so, but within half a second I had him in a bear hug, and this time it was me holding him.

"Oh Mikey...," I murmured, my voice like a gentle breeze of wind. There was an indescribable intensity, and a strange kind of intimacy. There were no words exchanged, only the tight embrace in which I had my face buried in his lean chest, and his head rested on my shoulder. There was an unspoken connection and an invisible bond that hadn't previously existed.

He felt my pain, knew it. Lived it. The killjoy who I'd had the most questionable relationship with was now the one who I needed to feel close to. And as we hugged, I felt as though I truly was.

There was nothing said because there was nothing to say. There was a mutual understanding that we stood on the same ground, and saw through the same eyes.

"Thank you," I whispered. My voice was almost latent, a wisp of smoke. I gingerly played with his hair, before intentionally messing it up and smirking. He looked as me in irked surprise.

"What was that for?" he asked.

I smiled at him mischievously.

"For not telling me who the hell Gerard is."

A/N and there you go! So…if you're wondering what just happened there…I don't even know. This fic is not supposed to have anything pairings in it, but for some reason writing that last bit felt necessary. I don't know. I just wrote what came to me, and that just HAPPENED. Also, I haven't been doing absolute nothing this whole time between updates: I've been revamping/retouching past chapters 1 by 1 and correcting typos and such. Overall I think everything is a tad better now.

Okay, so if anyone wants to be in this fic, TELL ME NOW. You can make an appearance as an orphan ;) I'll have to know some basic stuff about you and your killjoy, but if you want to be in here or incorporated in here somehow, NOW IS THE TIME. Message me, put it in a review, something.

Finally, before I conclude this long epilogue, if you guys want you can find me on my killjoy account on Facebook Sarah CrashBaby Way is the name. welp, this is probably the longest chapter I've written on here. R&R and I hope you guys enjoy it.