"The Future is Bulletproof, the Aftermath is secondary: Killjoys, MAKE SOME NOISE!" The transmission ended with a crackle, and, it signalled the fact that the Killjoys; Kobra Kid, Fun Ghoul, Jet Star and Party Poison, should head back to base – it wasn't safe on the streets after dark.

Battery City streets were nothing more than dust as our intrepid band of vigilantes traipsed on, heading back to their customised Trans Am, after another successful dusting spree - destroying a small number of the BL/Ind. Draculoids, which protected the managers of the company.

Party Poison's face showed no emotion, despite the number of 'people' he had ghosted. But, his defence came in that he had been protecting the remaining population of BC from Dracs for so long, that killing had lost its emotional drain. He ran a leather gloved hand through his candy colored hair and sighed. The sigh was lost to the warm breeze that whipped around the four of them. At Party Poison's hip, his bright yellow ray gun was nestled in its holster, almost unused. It had been Fun Ghoul's ray-gun which had been busiest during this more recent Ghosting session. He had been trying to protect the others, trying to compensate for Poison's mental inattentiveness.

Strolling along behind Poison was Fun Ghoul himself: he alone seemed to bear the emotional brunt of having killed so many 'people' – it was still an alien thing to take another life, especially in Fun Ghoul's world. Before the accident, he had been the less violently natured and more accepting of people. Not only did her bear the brunt of the emotional burden, but, also: the clothes he wore were singed in places from the multiple lasers he had been hit by during his protection mission.

Kobra Kid placed an arm under Ghoul's and helped him along the way, taking most of the smaller man's weight. Kid's hair was almost the same shade of bright gold as the shirt that he wore, it seemed to his friends that Kid wore the same t-shirt on their Dusting expeditions because he had no other clothes to wear, the truth was much simpler, and, to a certain extent, sweeter: it was more that the Kid was superstitious, and this simple piece of cotton was his good luck charm and he wore it as protection, not only for himself, but his friends, (and brother, too. Party Poison was his elder brother.)

Jet Star clutched his own blue ray-gun to his chest, shooting glances all around, in case of a sneak attack by the Dracs... Not that there was any left in the immediate area. The Killjoys had seen to it that Battery City was safe, at least for another day.

"Look, Star: put it away, I don't think that even a Drac would be stupid enough to corner us now: it'd be four against one, all four of us are armed, and, I think Poison would love to get his hands on another of those fuckers, right now." Kobra Kid tried to reason, momentarily letting go of Fun Ghoul's arm and placing a hand on Jet's shoulder to stop him walking away.

"Okay, I just get tetchy when we've ghosted so many of them." Jet sighed, slipping the gun back into place and helping Kid with Fun Ghoul, who during the short conversation had slumped against one of the few remaining buildings that still lined the streets.

Now, Party Poison, had, until this point, been continuing on the path back to the car, stopped in his tracks, slid his mask up his face and hurried to where Fun Ghoul was sat/stood. (Fun Ghoul would tell you that he was not sat down, wishing not to admit that he was so weak, after the fight. However, I can tell you that he was at the point of near exhaustion, and was therefore, sat on the burning desert sands.)

"Come on, Ghoulie: we've got to get out of here; you know it's not right to be around here after dark." He said quietly, placing a hand on the side of his face gently.

"Leave me here, Poison. I'm too exhausted." The whisper was barely loud enough for Poison to hear, but, it was loud enough.

Party Poison shook his head and nudged his brother out of the way and, slid his arms beneath Fun Ghoul's body and lifted him from the ground. "You're an idiot, Frank." Poison muttered darkly.

"Look who's talking, Gerard: you're the one who didn't want to shoot anything." 'Fun Ghoul' chuckled.

The foursome continued on the short way to the Trans Am, and, when they arrived, Gerard stated firmly that Kid was to drive, (with Jet Star's eye patch, driving wasn't the best idea...) and slid himself and Frank into the back seat.

Frank's breathing was slow and deep, as he tried to recover a little of his depleted energy.

"Why didn't you just let me help?" Gerard hissed angrily, as Frank grinned sheepishly.

"Because you weren't willing to do anything, Gee – I was trying to keep you safe!" Frank hissed, pulling his mask over his face, covering the blush that had crept up his neck.

"I wish you two would shut up sometimes!" Hissed Kobra Kid angrily, gunning the car into a higher gear, sending the debris on the street, flying.

"Sometimes we can't help it, Mikey!" Poison spat, leaning his head against the back rest of the car and smiling to himself.

"All three of you shut up, I'm trying to get a decent frequency. Agent Cherri Cola was supposed to send of a trans, when it was safe. It ain't come through yet." Jet Star hissed, twiddling dials on the transmitter that was perched on his lap.

"Sorry, Ray." The trio of Killjoys sang, and, each burst into laughter as they did so, Frank perhaps not so much, he curled into himself, his back resting against Gerard's shoulder, and he let his eyes fall closed.

When he re-opened his eyes, he found that they had arrived back at base, (a derelict building on the outer reaches of Zone Six,) and, Gerard alone remained in the car with him.

"Come on, Iero: it's time we got you inside so that you can get some sleep." Gerard whispered softly, nudging at Frank's shoulder.

"Not tired, Gee-Gee!" Frank whined, resting his head against the car window, smirking to himself when Gerard tried to move him.

"For someone so small, you can be so damn difficult." Gerard grumbled, undoing Frank's seatbelt with one hand and pulling on his arm, moving him into a position for easier movement.

Finally, Frank swung his legs around and scooted from the car, gripping onto Gerard's neck when he clambered to his feet.

"Thanks, Gee-Gee." Frank murmured, leaning his weight on Gerard as they walked into the building.

"Not a problem, Frankie." Gerard chuckled, patting Frank's cheek, slipping his arms beneath Frank lifting him from the ground.

Frank nuzzled his face against Gerard's neck as they walked, only the short distance.

The temporary residence of the Killjoys, had, in the old days, been a radio station, and now, it was home to the Killjoys and their allies: Show Pony, Agent Cherri Cola and, the agent of the Airways: Dr Death Defying.

It was Dr. Death who greeted them in the so-called living area: packed with weapons, disguises and a store of food, just in case the situation in Battery City became so extreme that it would be impossible to get access to food.

"What's the matter, boys? Didn't you, boys get any Dracs, this time 'round?" The Dr questioned, wheeling his chair alongside Gerard.

"Far from it, D: we got most of the ones that BL/ind had sent after us." Mikey put in, with his face set into a pout. Gerard set Frank back on the ground and with a swift flick of the wrist, had flipped Frank's bandana into his younger brother's face.

"What, Gee?" Mikey whined, handing Frank back his bandana and helping him over to the table. "I'm just pissed that we couldn't get to Korse this time."

"Now, boys: Korse will come with time." D comforted, wheeling between the warring Ways, before one or the other could reach for his ray-gun.

"D's right; we'll manage to get to Korse at some point, it doesn't matter when: just so long as BL/ind know that day IS coming." Frank muttered darkly, lifting his eyes from the floor and staring at the threesome and their current stances. "So; Gee, Mikes: quit threatening each other; there're more important enemies out there than us."

That was all Frank said for the moment, he let his eyes close. He did not hear the rest of the conversation that begun around him, instead, Frank found himself in dark dreams that were not too far from reality. He dreamed that he had lost Gerard in a ray-gun battle in the California desert, with Korse.

His sleep must have shown to be uneasy, for, his shoulder was being shaken, forcing him awake.

"Come on, Frank; wake up!" The voice that stirred him was anxious – and, it belonged to Gerard.

Frank kept his eyes closed while he became accustomed to the fact that his dream had been nothing more than his overactive subconscious acting up.

"Open your damn eyes, Iero; I know you can hear me," Gerard hissed.

Frank stuck out his tongue and opened his eyes and he found that Gerard's golden brown eyes were only inches away from Frank's hazel. Yes, they were partially obscured by his bright yellow mask, but, even Frank could see that he was nervous and anxious.

"I'm okay, Gee-Gee." Frank muttered, gripping onto Gerard and hoisting himself up.

"No you're not, Iero; I know when something's wrong with you." Gerard prodded Frank's shoulder as the latter attempted to force his eyes closed again.

"I said I'm fine; leave it alone." Frank snapped, leaning his head against Gerard's shoulder.

"Frankie," Gerard's voice had softened and he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Just tell me what's wrong." He was pleading.

Frank was forced to look at Gerard, scared of admitting what he had seen, just in case by saying it would make it come true.

"I don't want to tell you what's wrong." Frank admitted, dropping his eyes to the dusty floor of the shelter. "I'm scared that if I tell you, then it's really going to happen."

Gerard chuckled softly, and tousled Frank's hair with a leather gloved hand. "Nothing will happen, Frank: just tell me!" He groaned, perhaps in impatience.

"I dreamed that I lost you." Frank's voice shook as he spoke. "It might be nothing; it'll be because of what we were talking about with D, ya know, about Korse. It was in a fight with Korse and some Dracs out in the desert."

"If I'm honest, Frankie: I'm blaming D for this one." Gerard smiled, nudging Frank's shoulder playfully. "But, you don't have to worry about losing me: I don't plan on going anywhere."

Gerard's words seemed to give Frank a new hope and he no longer feared the prospect of losing Gerard; at least not to Korse. In fact, the whole idea of Korse and BL/ind was nothing more than an annoyance that disrupted the daily goings on in his life, and the life of his friends.

Recovered from his nightmare, and almost fully recuperated from the ray-gun battle he had endured, Frank giggled, and slid from the table, taking aim carefully and leaping up onto Ray's back – he was crouched in the corner, making some alteration to the Killjoys radio equipment.

"Easy, Tiger." A voice giggled from the shadows of the room, the voice came from Show Pony – a confidante of Dr D.

"He's my tiger, Pony – I think we'll leave him be." Gerard countered, his tone of forced cheer, throwing himself onto a pile of boxes beside Mikey to watch the scene unfold. He was not too content to watch the love of his life wrestle with a person whom the Killjoys barely even knew and all that they did know came from Dr D himself.

Frank untangled himself from Ray and giggled, patting his friend's hair before spinning to tackle Gerard to the ground from his box perch.
The pair rolled along the floor, a giggling mess of bodies, coming to a stop at the door, both slightly out of breath and flushed faced.

"Feel better, Frank?" Gerard queried, pushing Frank's hair off his face and smiling softly.

"Better, because of you." Frank replied softly.

"That's all I needed to hear." Gerard was assured. Therefore, he and Frank curled into one another, comforted and watched the final rays of sun sinking behind the mountains on the horizon.

"Hey, Gee."


"Kiss me, you animal!" Frank muttered; his lips against Gerard's earlobe. Gerard chuckled and pressed his lips onto Frank's delicately.