The World Is Ugly Chapter 24: Of What Was And What Could Have Been, a misc. comics fanfic

Note: None of the following was really edited, so beware the typos.

To anyone who will see this (most likely no one, this is really for me), hello. It's been a while, huh? I'll keep it short and to the point.

This is the end of The World is Ugly.

Why?

Well.

I have spent so much time on this, put my freshmen, sophomore, and junior years of my life into writing this story, and I'm proud of it. I'm proud of what it could've been, I'm proud of what it turned into, I'm proud of what it helped me get through, I'm proud that I'm nothing like the me who started this in freshmen year.

But I'm not having fun anymore. I get extremely annoyed and pissed at the very thought of writing anything that even halfway relates to this, to Killjoys, to MCR in general.

I used to stay up all night writing this, but I barely think about it anymore. And when I do, I immediately shove it out of my head, and replace it with what I AM having fun doing.

This was a severe coping method for me, really, and up until I stopped posting new chapters, I really needed it. But I'm so much better now. I'm so much happier now. I'm so much less like the Gerard I wrote while I was writing it, and I'm so much more like who I always wanted to be when I first started listening to MCR, with who I always felt I should be.

And that's another thing. The breakup fucked me up. I pretended for a few months that I didn't care, but one day I finally broke down and cried for hours, because I DID care. I cared too much. I don't want to think about them anymore. I don't want to think about this story anymore, about who I used to be, about the deep, dark, suicidal depression I was in for I don't even know how long; way before I started this story. I don't want to remember all the shit I used to think, what I used to do to myself, and I sure as hell don't want to write about it anymore.

When I started The World is Ugly, I thought that as I made Gerard get better, I would get better too. That's not how it ended up working.

However, I received the help I need, and after almost a year, I've never been happier. I didn't think I could be happy. And I am. And sometimes I believe that MCR, and how much I enjoyed writing this story, is what kept me here long enough I could get better.

So, that's that...

But I did have an ending planned out, and several parts already written. I got several requests to let others finish it, but this was such a huge piece of my life, I could never let that happen. So, for those who have been waiting for the six hundred thousand years it's been, here is how the rest of the story would have gone.

Bell was, in the next chapter, going to come out to the Killjoys about what was really happening, and who she was really working for, and while they would be mad, they'd have to work together for the rest of the story.

Frank was to show up on the screen in a warning to the Killjoys to surrender, and Gerard was to pretty much snap in like the opposite direction and instead of getting sad again he gets very, very angry, and go to the AP group with a plan and, in front of a Watcher van, kiss one of them (guyxguy, illegal) and when they stopped, the rest of the Killjoys would attack and get the van to sneak in. Only it didn't work very well, and Adams would talk over the radio and tell Gerard to pick up the radio and talk, and I really like how I wrote this part, and how Gerard becomes the leader he was before again, SO:

"Killjoy."

Every one of them flinched, immediately going silent and losing the smiles they'd been relieved to finally have again, staring at the dashboard radio in front of them, scarcely daring to breathe.

"Don't pretend that didn't go through," the accented voice continued, "this is connected to each and every van. And we know you confiscated one, because they did not clock in on the hour as they should have. Now, Killjoy, pick it up."

No one moved.

"I said, pick up the Goddamn radio!"

Gerard, who'd been the closest, recoiled at the abrupt shout, putting his hands up like he thought the radio would somehow hit him, pressing himself back against the seat.

"Would you like me to address you properly, boy? You know who I am speaking to. The infamous Party Poison, leader of the rebels."

His mouth falling agape, Gerard's chin tilted down. The rest of the kids stared at him, awaiting his next move.

"Gerard Way," the voice sang mockingly, and then paused for another enraged shriek. "Pick it up!"

Tentatively, the twenty-four-year-old reached his hand out, taking part that was handheld and bringing it mere inches away from his lips, clicking the button. "Where is he?"

"Ah, so you are at least a bit intelligent. Good."

"Where is he?" Now it was the Killjoy's turn to holler, his entire body taut and trembling in the effort of making his voice go as loud as it had.

"Ooh, getting testy, are we?" the man chuckled, and Gerard resisted the longing he had to curse this man with every word he knew, instead growling, "What the fuck do you want with him?"

"With who, your precious baby?"

"If you've touched him—"

"Did you miss the broadcast? I thought it was quite clear I already have."

Gerard slammed his fist onto the center console, the others jumping back in surprise as he screamed, "Hurt him again, you son of a bitch, and I'll fucking—"

"Shut up, Way. Your threats are empty. Useless." There was a gap in his words as he snorted. "Just as useless as you."

Closing his eyes to compose himself, he responded with, "Why did you take him?"

"Because I knew you would try to get him back. And that's precisely what I wanted." A pause. "Up for a little game, Gerard?"

The Killjoy wet his lips. "What're you playing at?"

"A choice."

"Keep talking, fucker!"

"Now, now, no need for that."

Gerard clenched his teeth, ready to kill something in the fury pulsing through his weary figure. A few of the A.P. kids who'd been closer to him leaned back like they expected him to punch out at one of them. "A choice?"

"Mm. You may either choose to turn both yourself and the rest of your A.P. friends in, or I'll turn your sweetheart into a SCARECROW."

The Killjoy trembled. "How do I know you haven't already?"

There was a long pause, and then it clicked on again, and shaky breathing was heard. "G-Gee…?"

Gerard cried out at the unmistakable voice, shouting "Frankie!" without pressing the button in shock and relief of the confirmation he was still alive. Dazed, by the sound of it, but alive and unharmed enough to speak, and for right now, that was all he cared about.

"Gee…hel'me…" The radio cut out as Frank whimpered, returning halfway through Adams' next sentence. "—enough of that. Sorry, Way, little Frankie's a bit tired…"

"What the fuck did you do to him?"

"We need someone to test our drugs on, don't we?"

"I'll fucking kill you."

"I'm awfully scared now."

Clenching his fist, Gerard struck out at the door and then pressed his head against the steering wheel with a sob.

"I'm growing tired of waiting, Killjoy. What's your answer?"

Gerard raised his head, uncaring that his face was now streaked with tears, eyeing each and every one of the kids and then shakily sighing, determination edging onto his expression.

"Fine. Fine, yeah."

Several of them gasped, and Jesse shouted, "No! Are you crazy?"

Adams snickered. "Maybe you are a bit more intelligent than I believed."

"No," Gerard cleared his throat, his voice gradually getting louder. "No. We're not turning ourselves in. I'll tell you what the fuck we're gonna do. We're coming to your building, we're going to kill every last one of your fucking guards, every last person that gets in our fucking way, and then—are you listening, fucker?—I'm going to find you and I'm going to end you." He paused, gasping now. "Frank—hold on, baby."

Before the man could even attempt a response, Gerard yanked the wire out of the dashboard, disconnecting it permanently and then turning to the others, all of whom were now smirking. "Ready?"

Elliot shook his head and laughed. "Hell, never been more ready."

"Great." He pressed his foot against the gas pedal, throwing the vehicle into drive. "Let's fucking do this."

AND then, they would've gone and reached the gates, and they would open for them, and there wouldn't be any guards, and they'd be like UH? And of course it'd be a trap, but Gerard doesn't care, and they find Frank and get him out of there, and they run back to the AP hideout not sure but thinking theyre safe (or at least hoping), and Frank ends up having a tracking device on his ankle, and they all get re-captured EXCEPT for Jesse, and Jesse ends up meeting a bunch of non-AP members who don't take medication who've been sticking together for a while, too scared to do anything until now. And they'll put together a plan I didn't quite figure out totally to get the others out.

Meanwhile, Korse is being a piece of shit to Gerard and using everything he's been told about the Killjoy (everything) to taunt him, and Adams perfected the medication to stop Frank from thinking and to do whatever he says, and after a while Adams takes G to a room where Frank is and:

"Get up, Way."

Gerard did not give any reply at Adams' voice, remaining where he was, in the corner.

"I said get up."

Adams sighed in irritation as Gerard continued to ignore him. "You're just like Iero, aren't you?" he muttered, and then grabbed Gerard by his hair. The Killjoy cried out as he yanked on it, weakly scrabbling to his knees and then up completely, back against the wall.

"You'll learn like he did." Adams said with a satisfied nod, shoving him out of the room and into the hall.

"Where is he?"

Adams only just heard the whisper-like voice, and he chuckled. "Don't worry. You're going to see him right now."

Almost immediately concerned by the tone of the man's voice, Gerard went with him quietly, hoping that Frank was still alive when they got to him.

They went down a floor, and then the agent stopped them in front of a door, smirking at the Killjoy.

Uneasy, Gerard murmured, "What…?"

Adams grabbed his wrist without responding, opening the door and roughly pushing him in.

Falling to his hands and knees, the twenty-four-year-old gave a grunt and then raised his head, his mouth dropping open as he saw the other figure in the room. "Frank!"

Frank did not react to his voice—didn't even blink—and Gerard instantly knew something was wrong. "…Frank?"

"Who are you talking to, Way?" Adams chuckled menacingly, and Gerard cried out in despair. "What'd you fucking do to him?"

"Trust me, it's an improvement."

"Please, no, he's—?"

Adams disregarded his stammering and said, "Come here, Iero."

Frank obeyed immediately, not even acknowledging Gerard's existence, stopping in front of the man, and only then did Gerard see his love was holding a gun in his hand.

"Think you all are able to fight against everything we do, still?" Adams taunted, giving this dramatic gesture to the brainwashed Killjoy. "Hm? Think you're so defiant and brave? Your precious little boyfriend was crying for you earlier."

Gerard did not reply, eyes wide, and then he weakly reached out to take Frank's free hand, squeezing gently. "Frankie?"

Frank again was silent and unresponsive, and as Adams uttered an order of, "Turn," his hand slipped out of the older's as he faced him, his eyes blank and unseeing.

Gerard stood, took a step back, trembling a bit. "No. No, don't," he looked at Adams, his terror obvious.

"Aim, Iero."

Frank raised the gun to level with the older's chest.

"Stop, Frank, don't!" Gerard stepped up to him, taking his hand again, eyes on the weapon. "Don't, Frankie, it's me! W-what're you—"

"Fire, boy."

Gerard gasped as Frank pulled the trigger. The gun sputtered, and a sharp pain exploded in the center of his chest. He crumpled, half onto Frank, who didn't make any move to catch him, and hit the ground, panting raggedly and shaking and—still alive?

Adams glared down at him like he would have a piece of dirt, if even that. "Get up, Way. It's a faulty stun gun. Barely does anything."

Gerard could hardly move, though—he was trembling almost too hard to function, and he felt he couldn't breathe no matter how much he knew he could. He put a hand on his chest, aching from how close the shot had been, and then stared at his hand, twitching his fingers and completely enthralled with the fact there was no blood on them. Finally he let out an agonized moan and looked up at Frank, heartbroken when he saw the younger hadn't moved at all. He hadn't even lowered the gun.

Adams laughed. "That's not even the best part, Killjoy!" He turned his attention to Frank. "Come here, Iero."

Frank obeyed, holding the gun by his side again, leaving Gerard on the floor, his mouth gaping, his arm pressed tightly to his chest.

"What is his name?" Adams pointed at the dazed Killjoy, and Frank tonelessly replied, "Gerard Way. Party Poison, sir."

"Do you love him?"

"No."

Gerard whimpered softly.

"I'm sorry?" Adams raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"No, sir."

"If I told you to kill him, with a real gun this time, would you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Without hesitation?"

"Without hesitation, sir."

Adams grinned sadistically, and looked back at Gerard, who had lowered his gaze, his hand now covering his mouth, looking like he was both going to be sick and cry, maybe somehow all at once.

"Good," Adams praised, holding out his hand for the white, plastic weapon, which Frank placed back in his grip. Then he stood, rigid, until Adams murmured, "You are dismissed."

"Frank!" Gerard tried, getting to his knees. "Frank, please! I love you!"

Adams put a hand on Frank's shoulder as he went to leave. "I'm sorry, do you love Gerard Way?"

"No, sir."

"At all?"

"I don't love him at all, sir."

That fucking did it. Gerard shrieked in absolute fury, lunging at Adams before he was even aware of getting to his feet, striking every place he could manage, screaming curses.

"Iero! Restrain the Killjoy!"

Gerard expected the twenty-year-old to have a weak grasp, one he could easily get out of, but the second Frank grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind his back, he was unable to break free. It was almost the same as being in rope or handcuffs, only he knew the hands, had felt them on him before—never like this. They were cold, now, and Frank's grip hurt, his nails digging into the skin.

Adams shook his head and straightened up, his hand clenching. Gerard saw it coming but could do nothing to stop it, and he cringed as the fist caught him across his jaw, snapping his head to the side and causing his vision to go white for a moment. He winced, unable to even raise his head before the man struck him again and then grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up.

"I'm telling you, boy," he began, seething, a line of blood running down from his nose, "the minute we find the rest of your friends, you're going to have a front row seat to their deaths."

Gerard opened his mouth to say how he'd heard it before, how the agent was wasting his time, but didn't have a chance before he was hit twice more. He sagged forward, spitting onto the floor, and then looked up. "I'll kill you, you stupid fucking bastard."

Adams chuckled darkly, smacking him again, enjoying the pathetic attempt Gerard gave to pretend it hadn't pained him. "You can't even hurt me."

"Really?" Gerard grinned smugly, his front teeth and bottom lip stained bright red. He scrunched up his nose in a gesture his hands weren't free for. "You got a little something right there…"

"Oh?" Adams began, feigning he hadn't noticed, and while Gerard was distracted with the delight for having caused it, the man kicked his leg out and between Gerard's.

Gerard's smirk was immediately replaced with a grimace of agony, and he doubled over and stumbled back. Frank tripped, and then grunted as he fell back to the floor, releasing Gerard in surprise.

Adams frowned, watching as Gerard curled into a ball, unable to even cry out. "I'm in control, Killjoy. What part of that don't you understand?" He hadn't wanted an answer, but he drove his shoe into Gerard's stomach anyway, watching his mouth open and close in useless, desperate attempts to get a breath. "Hmm? I can kill you—I can have Iero kill you—anytime I want to. I can hurt you and him and all of your friends far worse than you have ever been hurt before. Do not test me, Way."

Gerard shuddered violently, and then finally took a shallow gasp, squeezing his eyes shut, panting hard and completely consumed in the agony. He didn't feel a warm hand settle onto his ankle, but Adams saw Frank do it, scowling. It didn't look like the younger even noticed what he was doing, staring blankly ahead as he awaited another order, but it was an act of attempted comfort nonetheless, something Adams despised. "Iero! Get up!"

Frank immediately did so, his arms stiffening by his sides, looking straight at Adams.

"Go to Korse; do whatever he asks of you."

"No…" Gerard managed, barely a whisper, but couldn't even open his eyes.

"Yes, sir," Frank replied, going off without a moment's hesitation. Adams paused for a moment, reached down, and brushed Gerard's hair out of his face. "What do I have to do to make you listen, hmm?" he asked, his voice far too gentle, and yet Gerard did nothing.

"Do I really have to assure what happened last time happens again?"

Gerard didn't want to understand—didn't want to realize that more than he and Frank knew about their abuse, that they were going to be threatened with it now.

"Should I?" Adams asked again, amused, moving his hand down to where he'd just connected his shoe to, and Gerard whimpered in pain. "Hmm?"

"Pl…ple…'s don't." the Killjoy slurred between gasps, and Adams smirked. "You sure? I heard it worked before…or was that only because it was done to Iero, too?" He paused for a moment. "What if I ordered him to enjoy it? You saw just how well he obeys…"

"Fucker!" Gerard spat, ignoring the discomfort it caused, raising his hand to shove Adams' away. "Don't…don't you dare."

"Maybe I'll even do it in front of everyone. In front of you, the A.P., and every last one of your Killjoys…how would you like that? So all of you can hear him moaning in the pleasure I told him to have?"

"No!"

"Then you?" Adams palmed the Killjoy through his jeans again. "I could give it to you and do the same. How would they feel about that?"

Gerard's eyes flickered closed, and he mumbled something incoherent, weakly swatting at Adams' hand before he let his arm drop to the tile.

Adams figured he must've still been conscious, because his brow was still furrowed, and his teeth remained tightly gritted, but it was clear he was going to say nothing else, and so the man stood, turned on his heel, and went out, locking the door behind him.

because being a sadistic asshole is super fun for me. Anyway, after that:

It was Frank that opened the door to the room Gerard was in at last—or at least, his body. His mind was gone, something Gerard could only hope was temporary. At first, even he caused Gerard to curl up tighter, not having moved from where he'd fallen before. He didn't want to face his love again, but the younger's voice spoke up anyway.

"I was asked to assure you weren't injured too badly."

"How sweet."

"Are you in need of something?"

Gerard blinked, half raising his head to look at Frank. "The bathroom?"

"I am not permitted to let you leave this room."

"Frank, stop!" the Killjoy exclaimed, sitting up with a wince of pain. "Snap the fuck out of it! It's me! Gerard! Your boyfriend!"

Frank stared blankly back; the words didn't compute.

"Gee! I've been with you for six years! C'mon, Frankie, you gotta remember, I don't care what they gave you!"

"Gee." Frank repeated, softly, sounding a bit different.

"What?" Gerard tried hopefully, but his spirits fell as Frank replied with, "I said nothing." He turned to leave. "If you need nothing, I—"

"The fucking bathroom, Frank," Gerard repeated urgently, frowning. "Like, now."

This time, Frank didn't refuse the request. Instead, he hesitated, tried to process. "I was given explicit instructions to—"

"Ask if I needed anything?"

"No."

Gerard wasn't quite sure what was meant by that, but it made sense. BLI didn't care if a Killjoy was hurt or not. Maybe it was something of Frank's personality, his care for Gerard, bleeding through the drug's haze? "I—fucking hell, just let me out for two Goddamn minutes! C'mon, seriously, please."

Frank watched him for a long moment and then said, "Stand."

With a bit of difficulty, Gerard did so, coming over to him, and then Frank turned and led him out to where the hallway ended, pointing at the little room he must have known about from when he'd been prisoner here. "Be quick, I—"

"Iero!"

Gerard flinched, glaring at Newsagogo as she strode down the hall towards them.

"What're you doing?"

"The Killjoy needed to—"

"Correct," she interrupted," he is a Killjoy. That means he is not to be let out of where we put him, for any reason, unless it is by one of us!"

Gerard must've made some noise he wasn't aware of, because News suddenly looked at him in aversion. He nearly complained to her, distressed enough he wouldn't have minded the embarrassment too much, but she rolled her eyes before he was reduced to such pathetic behavior, gesturing at the door and muttering, "One time, Killjoy."

He looked at Frank for a moment, heard News click her tongue impatiently, and then went past the both of him.

"Don't lock the door!" he heard the woman call after him, and if he hadn't already been in pain and reluctant to receive more, Gerard might've done it just to piss her off. She had drugged him before, watched him writhe with a smile on her face, and with whatever the entirety of BLI had done to Frank, she was part responsible in it. She deserved anything he could do to her, and in fact, after he'd finished, he clicked the lock anyway, immediately glancing around to see if there was any chance of escape.

He spun around, glancing over every bit of wall, wincing as News began pounding on the door and screeching at him. There was nothing, not even a window.

Or so he thought, until he by chance looked up, like he expected something to be there.

Directly above him was an air vent, one that, if he stood on top of the sink, he'd be able to reach. There was a small hook on the side of it, indicating that the cover could come off. It looked a little too small for him to fit through, but in any case, he began wondering if it could aid him.

"Killjoy!"

Gerard flinched, backing away from the door as he heard Adams' voice replace News', and he grimaced.

"Open the door, Killjoy," the man went on, his too-calm tone returning. "You know you don't have a choice. There's nowhere you can go."

All the same, Gerard still hesitated, looking up at the vent again. Were they everywhere? Did his room have one? If it did, could he reach it with nothing to stand on? And before he was caught?

Another loud few knocks on the door shook the thoughts away, and he took a deep breath, opening the door. A hand grabbed hold of his collar and yanked him out, throwing him carelessly to the ground.

Gerard made no sound, lifting himself up on an arm, and then gasped when Adams bent down and grasped his dark hair. "Used to be red, didn't it?" he murmured, and then used his other hand and the object in it to silence Gerard before he could speak. The cold metal slipped under Gerard's shirt, pressed to his hip, and then sent a sudden bolt of electricity through him. He shrieked, writhed to get away, and Adams got to his knees, digging one of them into the back of Gerard's legs once he'd flipped onto his stomach, preventing him from getting up.

With another agonized yell, clawing at the tile, Gerard squeezed his eyes shut, able to do nothing but wait for it to end and hope it didn't kill him first. Finally, the weapon was removed, and the pain turned into a dull, aching throb in every last inch of his body as he gasped and trembled.

"…learn, Way? Through pain? Is that what you need in order to obey us?"

"Never," Gerard coughed out, and then felt the device at his side again, whimpering as the pain returned. He shook violently, struggling to make his arms work to try and shove it away, but he was forced to endure it until it stopped, an indeterminable amount of time that felt like a year.

"This is quite entertaining," Adams hummed thoughtfully after a moment. "Tell me, would you continue acting up if I were to do this?"

Gerard flinched, expecting a third shock, and then instead heard his love shout, blinking his eyes open in time to see Frank drop to his knees, teeth clenched, leaned away from the weapon at his shoulder. He extended his other arm and looked about to attempt to crawl away, but Adams voice halted him.

"Stay there, Iero. Don't move."

"Stop!" Gerard exclaimed, struggling into a sitting position, eyes going wide as he realized Frank couldn't get away—not with the drug was forcing him to obey anything the man asked of him. "Stop!"

"But Gerard," Adams taunted, keeping the device on Frank even as he half collapsed, head lowered, another agonized, pleading moan escaping his mouth. "I thought you were willing to do anything, as long as you kept your defiance up?"

"Let him go!"

"And you'll s urrender?"

"You already have us! Fucking let him go!"

Adams sighed, releasing Frank, who slumped to the linoleum completely. "You'll come with me without a fight?"

"W-where're we going?"

"Wrong answer, Way."

Frank shrieked as the man shocked him again, curling in on himself and finally muttering, "Please…"

Horrified, Gerard nodded. "I'll go! I'll do whatever you want! Just stop!"

Adams stood up, not seeming to care that Frank continued to pant and squirm at his feet. "Good. I hope so. Or else little Frankie's going to be joining the rest of Battery City."

Gerard shuddered at that.

"Understood?" Adams broke the silence, and Gerard instantly replied with, "Yes." He couldn't fight when Frank was so incapable of protecting himself—he wouldn't.

"Yes what?"

Gerard winced, his gaze moving to Frank. The younger had gone utterly limp, his eyes fluttering, breathing in quick, shaking gasps. Gerard couldn't see him be hurt again; he refused to.

"Yes…yes sir."

News cackled loudly, the noise vibrating and echoing in the otherwise empty hall, and Adams grinned triumphantly. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it, boy?"

When Gerard didn't give a reaction, the man stepped towards Frank again, and Gerard instinctively scrambled forward, grabbing Frank's arm and throwing himself over the younger. "No sir! It wasn't hard!"

"Excellent!" Adams straightened up, concealed the weapon again, and then clapped, elated. "I'm so thrilled we've reached an understanding," he went on, and then gestured for Gerard to stand.

The Killjoy hesitated, and then leaned over to kiss Frank's forehead. Frank didn't respond, his eyes shut, and so Gerard merely murmured into his ear and brushed the hair out of his face before he obeyed, biting back every curse and insult he had, eyes on the ground.

"Come here, Killjoy."

Gerard flinched, cast a last glance at his love, and then went over to the man, never once raising his head.

"Please bring Iero back to his own room to recover," Adams told News, and Gerard shivered. "I'm not sure if that may have shortened the effects of the drug or not…I'd prefer not to take any chances."

News nodded, grabbing Frank and offhandedly lifting him over her shoulder like he was absolutely nothing—and he was exactly that, to them. But Gerard scowled, opened his mouth to snarl something at her…and then closed it again. It wouldn't help either of them; if anything, it'd get them hurt. And if Frank woke up as himself, in the 'room' they'd found got to him the most, he was already going to be hurt enough. Gerard didn't need to add anything to that.

"Killjoy," Adams said, warningly, and Gerard bit his lip, following the man into the staircase without a word.

"You're learning faster than Iero," the agent chuckled. "Took a hell of a lot to find what got to him…for you it was just him. If you'd been here before, I imagine he would have felt the same. Instead, though…well, you wouldn't happen to be afraid of closets, too, would you?"

Gerard was on the man so fast Adams looked virtually startled, frowning as the Killjoy shoved him into the wall.

"You fucking leave him out of this, you bastard," Gerard demanded, raising his clenched fist up to Adams' chin. "He hasn't done shit. I'll do what you want, but you are not going to hurt him anymore."

Adams' eyes flashed with something Gerard couldn't decipher, and he let go and stepped back, genuine fear making his heart skip a beat. He hoped it didn't show on his face—he didn't want to give BLI anymore satisfaction.

The agent said nothing, only continued glaring at him. Unsettled, Gerard turned, beginning down the stairs again in a silent submission to what he knew was wanted of him, and then felt a rough shove on his shoulder. He staggered two steps further, lost his balance before he could make a sound, and then tumbled headfirst down the last five, landing in a motionless heap in the middle of the two flights, groaning weakly.

Adams bent over him, his figure wavering in and out of focus as Gerard looked up through his tangled, agonized limbs.

"If that's how you want it to be, Way, fine," the man said, his voice distant. "You can pretend you're in the position to threaten me, and I'll keep showing you how very wrong you are, how in control I am, how much pain I can put you through until you learn."

Gerard's eyelids fluttered and then slipped closed, and then he felt a grip close tightly around his arm. He shrieked at the agony that resulted in, and yet Adams still yanked him up by it, hard enough he had to unbend his legs and try to force them to support his weight. Gerard mumbled something unintelligible and dug the nails of his other hand into Adams' arm, trying to get himself released. "Fuck! Let me go!"

Adams ignored him. "Unless you want me to drag you down the rest of the stairs, walk."

"Let go! It hurts!"

"Walk."

When Gerard still hesitated, Adams started forward anyway, hauling the Killjoy behind him, ignoring the pained whimpers. By the time they'd gotten to the ground floor, though, Gerard had managed to match the man's pace, still being tugged along and stumbling but on his feet nonetheless.

He was shoved into the passenger seat of some car when they got outside, and he huddled against the door, holding his arm to his chest, wincing at every flare of pain that went through it.

"Wake up, boy," Adams' impatient growl cut through Gerard's haziness, and he groggily looked over at the man, watching him get out and then come over to the Killjoy's side, jerking open the door and pointing at the ground. "Out."

Without hesitation, Gerard jumped to the concrete, his will to repel against whatever the man said gone for the moment. He was just tired. He almost didn't want to fight anymore.

No. You're not letting them all down.

Straightening up completely despite the pain that flared up, Gerard jerked his shoulder out of the man's grip, repulsed at the touch and fact the man didn't seem to care he could've hurt Gerard worse than he had—only that the boy was well enough he could go on with whatever he had planned.

"Don't even think about it," Adams said, clearly having mistaken the action for another attempt to get away.

And that's all I had for that (wasn't the end) but the idea was that the other Killjoys would see another broadcast of GERARD this time, and Adams makes him tell them to give up, and they of course don't, and blah blah blah.

Of course Frank would snap out of it by the power of gay love or something I don't know, and Jesse and the others would somehow find someway to get them out, with the AIR VENTS playing a part in it (Jesse is small enough to fit in them) and then the last parts would be:

Gerard finally kills Korse before he can hurt Elise, and he can finally forgive himself for not doing it in time to save Missile Kid.

The BLI building self destructs or something and they all think it's gonna destroy the city but it doesn't, it just sorta collapses, and there was some other stuff that doesn't really matter like idk Frank "dying" would have been the end of a chapter because cliffhangers are fun and he had been trapped inside with Adams (who dies, yay) and he found his way out and then collapses and Bell helps him and he's obviously not really dead.

Ashton, by the way, along with Bert both died, and so does all the agents and SCARECROWS and Watchers and whatever else there was, and the very end would be one year later, and everyone's off meds and there's flowers everywhere and yay shrubbery .

And the ending, the VERY ending, I lost that because it was written on paper, but it was super cheesy and terrible and the last sentence was something along the lines of

"The world had ended up being more beautiful than he could have thought."

Or something like that. And of course Gerard is okay and Frank is okay and Ray and Mikey are okay and they forgave Bell and Elise and everyone's happy and whatever and good times and shit.

Well, that's about it...all over now in 6,000 words. Sort of anti-climatic, I'm afraid. But THIS I had fun doing. I had fun re-reading what I had written, and not having to worry about filling in the blanks and shit I hadn't done.

This was the right choice. It took months to work up the courage to finally do this, but now that it's done, I feel like I have weight off my shoulders.

ANYWAY, if you made it this far, CONGRATS. If you stuck with me for all this time, CONGRATS, and I've never appreciated anything more.

Good luck on whatever you do in the future, guys.

Thanks.

-StrawberryBubble