Angels From the Neon 5
Part 4
They break into a wrecked factory while scavenging - It’s almost untouched and while they’re understandably cautious, there’s still enough left behind that they won’t have to worry about food or gas money for a week or so.
Gerard helps Mikey and Ray carry things out to the car. He feels uncomfortable, twitchy, because Frank’s still inside and he can’t see him. He taps his foot nervously as Mikey loads the trunk.
“Go and look for him for fuck’s sake.” Mikey says without looking back. “You’re giving me a headache.”
Gerard is careful not to run back to the factory, but it’s a close thing.
He finds Frank sitting cross-legged in the centre of an old storeroom surrounded by bits and pieces of junk. A shaft of light from one of the high-up windows is falling across his lap where he’s busy with a screwdriver and a handful of wires. He looks up the moment Gerard enters the room even though he’s convinced that he didn’t make a sound.
“Gerard.” Frank says happily, but then his face falls. “Shit, do you want me to help take things to the car?”
“Nah, it’s okay. We’ve done it all now. What’re you doing in here?”
Frank holds up what he was working on - it looks like a modified tin can with wires sticking out of the sides. “Look at this!” he says, standing up and sending all the pieces of junk on his lap crashing to the floor. “If you’ve got a spare battery, I think it’ll work.”
Gerard immediately starts fumbling in his pockets as he crosses the room to Frank. “Does it have to be full?” he asks as his fingers close on the familiar shape.
“Nope. As long as it’s got a bit of charge to spark the detonator, then we’re all shiny.”
“Detonator? Frankie, have you built a BOMB?!”
Frank grins hard. “Oh yes,” he replies in a conspiratorial whisper. “I built a bomb.”
Gerard eyes the thing in Frank’s hands. “You built a bomb out of a tin can and a handful of wires? On your own? In half and hour?”
Frank nods. It looks as though the top of his head might fall off from the smile on his face.
“How?”
Frank shrugs, “Dunno.” He replies, taking the battery from Gerard’s fingers. “I just saw all the parts and knew how to put them together.”
Gerard scratches his cheek thoughtfully. “Well… I’m pretty sure they didn’t teach you that in the clinic.”
Frank blinks, his fingers stilling as he tries to fit the battery. “No.” he says slowly, “No, I don’t suppose they did.” he shakes himself. “It doesn’t matter.” It doesn’t sound at all like he believes himself.
Gerard reaches out to touch Frank’s wrist. “I think it does matter.” He says quietly. “You must have been taught this when you were…”
“A Drac?” Frank spits, pulling himself away from Gerard’s hand. “It’s okay, you can fucking say it. I was one, after all.”
“I was going to say ‘asleep’.” Gerard says, “You were never a Drac, not really. You didn’t know.”
Frank sighs loudly, looking down at the bomb rather than at Gerard. “What if I’m remembering?” he asks in a small voice. “I don’t want to remember what they made me do.”
Gerard reaches out again, putting a hand on Frank’s arm. “It’ll be okay, Frankie. I’ll - we’ll all be here, even if you remember.”
Frank closes his eyes. “What about all the things I did? - I know I didn’t have a choice, but I’ll still know. I’ve KILLED people, Gerard. Zonerunners. You probably knew some of them. And Grace… They wanted kids to experiment on. I must’ve helped them.” Frank’s voice has taken on an edge of panic now and Gerard feels useless as he grabs the side of his head. “I just wanna pull this fucking thing out of my head. I don’t care what’ll happen as long as they can’t do that to me again.”
“Frank…” Gerard reaches up to grab hold of his hands, “We’ll find someone who knows what to do, okay? Even if we have to kidnap like, BL/ind doctors or some shit. We’ll get it out, I promise.”
Frank relaxes against him. “Okay.” He mumbles into Gerard’s leather jacket, the bomb caught between them.
“Okay.” Gerard repeats, “Now, how about we go outside and see it this thing works?”
***
They don’t mention Frank’s worries to Ray or Mikey. Gerard says it’s ridiculous to worry them over nothing and Frank doesn’t think he wants a return to Ray’s suspicious looks. Mikey’s sleeping out in the main room of the diner now, his place in the back taken by Frank - Gerard hasn’t had a nightmare since they met him, but that night it’s Frank who wakes up while it’s still pitch black outside, sitting bolt upright and gasping.
He hears the bald man telling him to stand up, so he does. It’s better like that. He pushes himself upright and opens his eyes, swinging his legs off the metal table he’d been lying on.
“There.” The bald man says, “That’s better, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He says, because it is, even though he doesn’t quite know what it’s supposed to be better than.
“Good.”
The door swings open to reveal two men in masks. The bald man smiles.
“I have a job for you.”
He’s out in the desert, in the middle of nowhere, firing his gun at a rusty ambulance. He can make out the occupants. Two men are firing out of the windows and another one of the men is already dead, slumped in the driver’s seat with a blast mark covering half his face, his jacket smouldering from the shot. The others are shooting back at him but it won’t be long until they’re dead too - outnumbered and taken by surprise. The one in the garish jacket that ran into the desert as the fight began won't last long. Frank doesn’t know why these people have to die, he doesn’t need to know. These are his orders and following orders is better.
The bald man tells him to study, puts him in a room with a machine that spills blue light on the white walls and shows him pictures. He watches them with interest; even though he’s not sure what the pictures are showing him.
Afterwards, the bald man gives him a pile of wires and metal. It’s to see how much he’s learnt.
He makes something. The bald man seems pleased with the result.
The young boy kicks him as he carries him to the van. The boy’s yelling too, for people to save him. It’s loud and it’s right in his ear and he wants the boy to shut up - can’t he see that this is for his own good? He will take him to the City and it will all be better.
The corridor is lined with pictures. Some of them have a big red cross over them. The first time he saw them he’d felt an odd clenching sensation in the pit of his stomach like he hadn’t eaten recently, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived. There were two pictures that hadn’t been crossed out yet that the bald man always glared at more than the others. He said they were traitors.
He found that interesting.
He advanced across the concrete, recognising the Zonerunner from his picture in the corridor. The traitor had nowhere to run to and no weapon. The bald man would be pleased. Maybe he could take him in alive, that would be better - a shot to the leg to incapacitate him. His fingers twitched at the holster. He should draw his weapon. He WANTED to draw his weapon.
Everything went white.
Gerard had been curled up next to him, sleeping fully dressed except for his jacket balled up under his head but he wakes up as he feels Frank move next to him. He listens to his breathing for a few seconds, a little unsure of what he should do - he’s punched Mikey a few times when he’d grabbed hold of him before he’d been fully aware of his surroundings.
“Frankie?” he whispers as his breaths start to slow down and even out. “You okay? It’s fine, it’s only me.”
“G…Gerard?” Frank fumbles for him in the dark, hands searching for something to ground him back in the present.
Gerard grabs his hand and pulls it upwards to his hair, letting Frank grab hold of a handful. “Okay?”
Frank shakes his head, a movement Gerard can only just make out in the dark room. His hand tightens painfully in Gerard’s hair, tugging at it. “What happened?”
Frank swallows loudly and sniffs, it sounds like he’d been crying. “I remember learning to make that bomb now.” He says in an undertone.
Gerard takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He says as calmly as he can manage. “It’ll be okay, Frankie.”
Frank sniffs again. “I really, really didn’t want to remember this.”
Gerard bites his lip, “Maybe there’s nothing you can do about it…” he says sadly. “Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”
“Fuckin’ fantastic.” Frank grumbles, sounding more like himself now. He throws the blanket he’d been sleeping under aside. “I’m just gonna get some air. Sorry for waking you up.”
Gerard reaches for his jacket. “Hold on, I’ll come with you.”
“DON’T.” Frank snaps, zipping up his own jacket. “Don’t fucking…” he turns away from Gerard who’s paused, his jacket hanging from one shoulder. “Gerard, please. Just don’t.”
“Frankie?” Gerard doesn’t sound upset, just concerned.
Frank can’t bring himself to turn and face him though. He swallows hard. “Trust me; you shouldn’t want to be around me.”
“Is this about your nightmare? I told you, I don’t care about that.”
Frank grinds his teeth - Gerard just isn’t getting it. “It wasn’t a nightmare, Gee. It HAPPENED. And you should care.”
He hears Gerard’s soft footfall and tenses up. He should have known Gerard would push at this. His hand falls on Frank’s shoulder. “Frank.” He says, his voice sounds as dangerous as Frank feels. “Stop, okay. Just fucking STOP. Talk to me.”
Frank wants to be able to shake Gerard’s hand off and run - leave Gerard and the diner and the others far behind him. He knows what could happen if he stays, memories from his time ‘asleep’ are pounding through his head, given a kick-start from the dream, but it’s Gerard - even though he only met him a week ago he’s known him for years and he thinks Gerard’s been everything Frank’s wanted since the first time he saw him. He’s terrified of staying but even more scared of what’ll happen to him if he loses Gerard now.
“You shouldn’t…” he starts, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort not to cry. “I can’t… I might…” but he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence he’s trying to start. The nightmare had come to him in flashes, moments of memory, and scenes from his life - things that couldwouldwere real. It had been his hands on the wheel of a van and his finger on the trigger of a gun and he’d woken when he’d stared down the sights at Gerard.
“You’re not gonna hurt me.” Gerard says as though he’s reading Frank’s mind. He sounds as though he’s never been surer of anything in his life. It makes Frank feel sick.
“You don’t know that.” He mumbles, feeling like the heat from Gerard’s palm is going to burn through the shoulder of his jacket any second.
Gerard turns him slowly, forcing him to look at him with one hand under his chin. “You didn’t.” he says with a strange smile on his face. “You could’ve shot me back at the store and you didn’t. I trust you.”
Frank leans forward, resting his head on Gerard’s chest and listening to his heartbeat, steady and soothing. “I don’t trust myself.” He admits. “I don’t trust myself at all.”
Frank feels twitchy for the next couple of days. Every time he closes his eyes he’s back inside his own head, pointing a gun at Gerard, even though he’s never done it in real life.
He’s not sure why or even how Gerard can still trust him, not really. He knows that right here, right now, he wouldn’t - couldn’t - even think of hurting Gerard, but the small silver box is still attached and Frank can tell by the way he can feel the (firebloodmayhemred) wires snaking into his brain that the possibility is still there.
Every so often he tries to tell Gerard again. He wants to - to explain about the things he knows he’s done and the things he’s scared he’ll do - but Gerard never lets him start, never lets him get past ‘There was this man in a Pegasus station’ and ‘I dreamt…’
“Shh…” Gerard says in the dark of the diner. “You won’t hurt me.”
***
Gerard stumbles into the diner. It’s dark and deserted, the few loose chairs lie smashed on the floor, empty cans and ripped clothes are strewn everywhere.
The door to the back room lies propped open by Ray’s dead body, a blasthole burnt through his jacket and t-shirt. Gerard feels an empty clench in his gut but forces himself to step forward. There’ll be time for grief once he finds Mikey and Frank.
His footsteps sound hollow on the floortiles.
One, two, three paces and he spots Mikey behind the counter, raygun lying in a pool of blood next to his outstretched hand. Someone - something - has slit his throat from ear to ear and everything is drenched in the sticky red fluid.
Gerard swallows, sounding loud in the silent building. He tries to remember what he’d been doing but the memories won’t come. He doesn’t know where he’d been before this, if he could have stopped it.
“Frank…” he whispers, trying to push away the rising terror. The word falls into the empty room like a lead weight.
Behind him, the main door to the diner slams open and Gerard spins around on his heel, panic threatening to overcome him. Frank is standing in the doorway but if Gerard had thought the sight of him would make this horror even slightly better he’s wrong. The blood feels like it’s freezing in his veins.
“Frank!?” he gasps, but the name can’t truthfully be applied to what’s standing in front of him.
Dressed in a white suit again, raygun raised to point directly at Gerard’s head, the… thing… in the doorway is wearing Frank’s face but that’s all the similarity. Blank eyed and passive it looks like a ‘bot and the red light blinking on the box on the side of his head seems to be flashing to the beat of Gerard’s heart.
“Frank…” he says again desperately. This cannot be happening.
“Who?” asks the Frank-thing before it pulls the trigger.
Gerard sits bolt upright, gasping for breath and panting loudly.
He’s in the back of the car, there’s no-one else there but through the pitch-black night outside he can see the nearby flicker of a campfire and he releases the breath he’s been holding, dragging a shaking hand over his face and through the tangled mess of his hair, trying to calm himself down before pushing open the car door and going in search of the others.
Frank looks up as he stumbles towards the fire, Ray is in the middle of a story that Mikey is listening to intently, a tin can held loosely in his grip.
“Gerard?” Frank stands up as he says his name and it makes Ray pause mid sentence. Gerard though only has eyes for Frank.
He wobbles closer, wishing he could see Frank clearer, that he could check that he’s alive inside his head without giving away how scared he really is.
Frank seems to understand and stumbles forward to grab hold of Gerard’s upper arms. It’s still too dark to properly see him but his thumbs rub soothing circles on his shoulders and he can feel himself relaxing fraction by fraction.
“You okay?”
It’s all Gerard can do to nod, even though he’s not one hundred percent sure he still is.
***
Despite what he’s read in some of the old magazines - usually the ones with recipes for food that doesn’t exist anymore and quizzes that he doesn’t understand - Gerard thinks Frank’s smile is not at all like the sun coming out. In the zones there’s never anything BUT sun, and Frank’s wide, beaming grins are nothing like as commonplace or every-day. Rather, when Frank smiles, it’s like the first notes of a crunching guitar track on a crystal-clear signal setting up a reverb in Gerard’s chest that reaches to the very tips of his fingers and toes and changes everything that he ever thought he understood about himself.
He knows what he’d spent countless hours trying to recreate now - even though he didn’t quite understand what he was doing while ripping up the tiny pieces of paper, now he can see Frank’s eyes staring out across the diner from the centre of the collage and it almost scares him how deep inside his head Frank has settled.
It ALMOST scares him because he doesn’t think there’s anywhere else he’d want Frank to be.
He’s not naïve - Gerard’s had enough encounters in empty rooms and bathrooms and the back seats of cars with enough lonely zonerunners that he knows that at least part of what he feels for Frank is desire. Frank’s good looking after all, and when your only other companions are a guy you’d be worried would eat you alive for asking and a close blood relation it’s a natural reaction to be attracted to him. Plus, Frank’s always touching him and hugging him and stroking his hair and sleeping right next to him and Gerard might be crazy but he’s not made of stone.
However, it’s more than that.
There’s something he can’t pin down, deeper than he’s ever known that stops him every time he catches himself thinking about how easy it would be to push Frank down and see what sort of delicious noises he can wring out of him with his tongue.
All Gerard knows is that there was probably a very fucking good reason that he couldn’t look any of those ‘runners in the eyes but Frank’s not a semi-anonymous fuck in a back room and Gerard’s not going to treat him like one, so he limits himself to listening to the rhythm of Frank’s smile and feeling the tangle of his fingers in his hair.
***
They hear from two different sources that BL/ind have taken kids other than Grace. First, there’s an overheard conversation in a Pegasus, a ‘runner talking to the girl at the counter about raids on some of the dust-hole scratch farms on the outskirts of zone six. Ray flinches, looking over at Mikey, Frank and Gerard, standing suddenly still while waiting for his turn to negotiate.
‘Dracs’ Ray mouths to the three of them with a quick head jerk to the two ‘runners who are still talking. Ray watches as Frank shudders
Then there’s a message from the radio DJ stuck between two songs and coded in his usual mix of slang and style, but it all boils down to teams of Dracs that seem to be scouring the zones looking for children. Ray’s riding shotgun as Mikey drives the Trans-Am but he brings it to a screeching halt when the next song begins. He glances around at them, Frank lying with his head on Gerard’s lap on the backseat. Ray feels strangely light headed in a way that has nothing whatsoever to do with the early afternoon heat. He’s been on edge for a while now, a response to simultaneously trying to come up with a plan that doesn’t end with them all being shot thirty seconds after rolling into Battery City and trying not to let thoughts of Grace overwhelm him entirely.
It’s all finally too much, Ray’s angry now - he’s not sad or lonely or overcome by grief and loss anymore, he’s pissed off and cross and there’s no way he’s going to let BL/ind get away with this any more even if there’s no hope. It bubbles out of him, no chance of stopping it. “We gotta do something.” He growls in a low tone. “I don’t care anymore. We have to TRY. It’s not just Grace. Whatever those fuckers are doing… ”
Next to him, Mikey inhales a sharp breath through his nose and Ray realises that he doesn’t need to finish his sentence for them all to understand him. They’re his crew.
No-one says anything for a moment and then Gerard swallows loudly. “Okay.”
“I’ve been thinking of a plan.” Frank says croakily. “It’s probably a terrible plan, but…”
“It seems as though it’s the only one we’ve got.” Says Ray firmly. “Get us back to the diner, Mikey.”
***
“You’re right.” Says Mikey in his most monotone voice. “That’s a fucking ridiculous plan.”
Gerard is staring at Frank as though he’s just grown an extra head and declared his intentions to eat babies. “Fuck no.” he says loudly.
Frank raises his head. “I know you don’t want to go back, but…”
“Fuck THAT.” Gerard says angrily. “Fuck THAT, Frank. You think this is about me?” he lowers his voice to a hiss. “You know what BL/ind will do to you if you get caught? You think I’m gonna let you walk back in there?”
Frank can’t hold Gerard’s gaze and looks away.
Ray sighs. “I don’t like this.” He says in his measured voice, “But if we’re gonna go through with this then Frank’s the only one who can do it.”
Gerard explodes into movement, sweeping the empty tin cans off the table with a crash and standing up, pushing himself away from them all. “Fuck.” He yells, just to drive the point home.
“Gee…” Mikey begins.
Gerard wheels round, dragging a hand through his hair. “Have you told them?” he demands. “Have you fucking TOLD them, Frankie? About the dreams you’ve been having? About what BL/ind DID TO YOU?”
Frank stands up, breathing heavily. He leans across the table, staring at Gerard. “No.” he says, “No, I haven’t fucking told them.”
“Haven’t told us what, Frank?” Ray asks, “What the hell is going on?”
“BL/ind.” Spits Gerard. “They did something to Frankie’s head. Turned him into their perfect fucking soldier, so excuse me for not wanting them to do it again!” Two long strides and Gerard’s back at the table and grabbing at Frank’s jacket, hauling him closer. “I’ve only just FOUND you, you fucking asshole. You think I wanna risk losing you now? Especially like that. To them.”
Frank looks shaken. “Gee?...”
Gerard crumples, head going to rest on Frank’s shoulder as Frank’s hands clutch at his waist to hold him up. “But… I’m gonna have to, aren’t I? We have to - For Grace and those other kids.”
“We’ll be careful.” Mutters Frank. “I’LL be careful.”
***
It really hasn’t been easy to get Gerard on his own but eventually Mikey hits on the idea of telling Ray that Frank should lean basic mechanics in case anything should happen to the Trans-Am and waiting until they’re both outside before waylaying Gerard before he tries to follow them.
Gerard looks nervous as Mikey stands in front of him blocking the way to the door but he feels that this is a conversation that needs to be had, awkward or not.
Mikey unfolds his arms and says “Sit down.”
Gerard blinks at him but slides into the booth anyway.
Sitting opposite him, Mikey’s not one hundred percent sure about what to say, so he starts by sighing Gerard’s name in a slightly pained tone and hoping his brother will pick it up from there.
Gerard just huffs in return and glances out of the dusty window through a crack in the boards. Mikey follows his gaze. Frank is leaning over the engine of the car, looking at whatever it is Ray is pointing to.
“Gerard.” He says again, trying to sound kinder this time.
“What do you want me to say, Mikey?” Gerard asks, looking back at him, “Just fuckin’ ASK.”
Mikey shrugs half-heartedly. “What’s going on with you and Frank?”
Gerard’s face sort of freezes. “Nothing’s going on with me and Frank.” He says carefully.
“Yeah, that’s kind of my point.”
Gerard huffs again in a way that means he’s avoiding the question. Mikey rests his chin on his hand and leans forward, his elbow slipping slightly on the table top. “If you think he doesn’t feel the same way about you then you’re even crazier than I think you are.” He says quietly, trying to be as gentle as possible. Gerard flinches anyway.
“It’s not that.” He says after a pause, his gaze tracking back to Frank outside.
“You deserve to be happy, Gee.” Mikey says. He feels like this is something that needs to be pointed out. He’s seen his brother searching for something ever since they started ‘running and he has the idea that for Gerard it started a long time before that.
There’s something about Frank and the way he and Gerard are together that makes Mikey think Gerard can stop looking, but the trick is going to be getting Gerard to see what’s right in front of him.
Gerard sighs. “I know that, Mikey.” He says quietly. “I’m not quite that masochistic.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” Mikey asks. “All I’ve ever wanted since I knew how to think for myself is for you to be alright, and I’ve gotta tell you Gee, I think if you let this go you’ll probably never find it again.”
Once again, Gerard looks back to him, eyes wide, “But what am I going to do if he leaves?” he asks. The sound of his voice is almost painful. “It’s going to be hard enough as it is…”
Mikey’s initial reaction is to tell him not to be so stupid, that he’s seen the way Frank looks at him, and there’s no way in hell that Frank’s going to leave, but this is the zones and there’s more than one way to leave.
He reaches across the table and rests his hand on Gerard’s shoulder. It feels like there’s nothing else he can do.
***
They spend the next few days getting ready. Gerard, Frank and Ray take the Trans-Am to collect supplies while Mikey borrows Ray’s bike to see how many of the Drac’s battery vends he can hack. They’ll need them for their guns and Frank’s secret project.
Everyone’s uncharacteristically quiet when they meet back at the diner. Mikey hands Frank a fistful of batteries and Frank nods his thanks, taking them and Gerard into the back of the diner. He’d been working on something, Mikey knew, but hadn’t shared it with anyone - not even Gerard. He watches his brother vanish through the wonky swing doors and turns to Ray.
“You wanna sort out the transport?” he asks, “I’ll get everything sorted in here.”
Mikey had just finished double-checking the guns and their power supplies when he hears the first shout from the back room.
“You want me to fuckin’ do WHAT?! Frankie…”
Frank’s reply is too quiet for Mikey to catch, but he hears Gerard’s “PLEASE. Don’t ask me to do that.”
Mikey’s hands still on the gun in his lap. He isn’t sure he should be listening to this conversation.
He hears heavy footsteps pacing the back room and then a loud sigh. Frank says “You’re the only one I want to do this, Gee. I’m so sorry, but you have to see how important this is to me. I don’t… I don’t want to live like that again…Look, I…”
Mikey goes to help Ray with the transport. If they want to motor tomorrow, everything needs to be shiny as fuck today.
***
When Gerard and Frank finally emerge out of the diner, Frank looks far too serious and Gerard’s hair is practically sticking straight up, a sure sign that he’s feeling upset and stressed.
“Are you guys ready?” asks Ray, standing up.
“Yeah.” Says Frank flatly as Gerard stares off into the middle distance.
“How are we gonna do this?” asks Mikey. “Ray, you’ve probably got the steadiest aim.”
“No.” says Gerard.
Mikey sighs, he’s been half-expecting this. “Gee, we talked about this. It makes more sense if…”
Gerard’s gaze snaps back to them. “No.” he says again, unfolding his arms and resting them on his hips. “NO-ONE is getting shot today.” He glances at Frank and Mikey’s stomach turns over.
“BL/ind will never believe that, Gerard, and you know it.” Says Frank, “We agreed on this - Mikey has to…”
Mikey watches as Gerard’s jaw clenches and in that moment the years of living and running with his brother collapse into one shining moment of clarity. “GERARD!” he shouts, but he knows it’s too late.
“Mikey doesn’t have to do anything.” Gerard says with a twisted grin as his hand reaches for the grip of his gun.
To Mikey, it’s like everything’s running in slow-motion, both Frank and Ray are reaching out to Gerard but he’s already unholstered his gun. He adjusts the grip, pushing the barrel tight against his left shoulder. It’ll be a perfectly clean shot from that distance - the ray will burn through the flesh of Gerard’s arm, cauterising itself with minimal extra damage, but it’ll leave his left arm useless for a while.
Mikey looks away as Gerard pulls the trigger.
***
Frank’s hands start shaking as he drives the van through the outskirts of Battery City. He’s sweating behind his stolen mask and desperately wants to rip it off but he knows what a stupid idea that is. He hits a pothole in the road and hears Gerard swear faintly from the back of the van. It makes Frank’s heart skip a beat, but he keeps quiet, trying to remember the route to the clinic and stopping himself from imaging all the ways that his plan could go wrong.
As he pulls into the parking lot under the clinic, Frank thinks he’s managed to calm himself down enough to pass for normal - or as normal as a someone trying to pass as a Drac in BL/ind headquarters could possibly be anyway. He keeps his mind on the memories that had been slowly pushing their way out of their hiding places and, taking deep breaths, Frank tries to lock down all of his emotions - all the fear, for Gerard, still in pain in the back of the van, for Ray, waiting for them to return in the outskirts of the City, for Mikey, voluntarily walking into the place that had done so much to damage his brother and for himself and what might happen to him.
As he parks the van, the elevator doors swing open revealing the bald man and two Dracs.
“Here we go…” mutters Frank under his breath.
Korse steps forward as Frank mechanically opens the door. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to, Korse gives orders and doesn’t answer questions.
“You’re back.” Korse says in his flat, expressionless voice. “Alone. And you’ve bought me something.”
Frank doesn’t speak, doesn’t even bother to nod, he just follows Korse around to the back of the van. One of the Dracs unlocks the rear doors and swings them open, Frank’s chest constricting tightly as Gerard and Mikey are revealed.
Mikey’s lying on the floor of the van and doing a good job of looking like he’s been thrown there while unconscious and hasn’t woken up yet. Gerard’s kneeling by his side, his right hand clutching at the wound in his left shoulder. His head turns as the doors open; he’s breathing heavily and glares at them all through a fall of bright red hair, head down, eyes sparking with pure hate. Frank stares at him through the eyeholes of his mask. He’s never seen Gerard look like this before, never even suspected he could. It almost makes him step back, step away from the… the thing that’s taken Gerard’s place.
Korse smiles. It’s the same smile of triumph he’d given Frank before they’d taken him to the operating theatre - wide and full of teeth.
“Gerard.” Korse says, “Welcome home.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part 6
They break into a wrecked factory while scavenging - It’s almost untouched and while they’re understandably cautious, there’s still enough left behind that they won’t have to worry about food or gas money for a week or so.
Gerard helps Mikey and Ray carry things out to the car. He feels uncomfortable, twitchy, because Frank’s still inside and he can’t see him. He taps his foot nervously as Mikey loads the trunk.
“Go and look for him for fuck’s sake.” Mikey says without looking back. “You’re giving me a headache.”
Gerard is careful not to run back to the factory, but it’s a close thing.
He finds Frank sitting cross-legged in the centre of an old storeroom surrounded by bits and pieces of junk. A shaft of light from one of the high-up windows is falling across his lap where he’s busy with a screwdriver and a handful of wires. He looks up the moment Gerard enters the room even though he’s convinced that he didn’t make a sound.
“Gerard.” Frank says happily, but then his face falls. “Shit, do you want me to help take things to the car?”
“Nah, it’s okay. We’ve done it all now. What’re you doing in here?”
Frank holds up what he was working on - it looks like a modified tin can with wires sticking out of the sides. “Look at this!” he says, standing up and sending all the pieces of junk on his lap crashing to the floor. “If you’ve got a spare battery, I think it’ll work.”
Gerard immediately starts fumbling in his pockets as he crosses the room to Frank. “Does it have to be full?” he asks as his fingers close on the familiar shape.
“Nope. As long as it’s got a bit of charge to spark the detonator, then we’re all shiny.”
“Detonator? Frankie, have you built a BOMB?!”
Frank grins hard. “Oh yes,” he replies in a conspiratorial whisper. “I built a bomb.”
Gerard eyes the thing in Frank’s hands. “You built a bomb out of a tin can and a handful of wires? On your own? In half and hour?”
Frank nods. It looks as though the top of his head might fall off from the smile on his face.
“How?”
Frank shrugs, “Dunno.” He replies, taking the battery from Gerard’s fingers. “I just saw all the parts and knew how to put them together.”
Gerard scratches his cheek thoughtfully. “Well… I’m pretty sure they didn’t teach you that in the clinic.”
Frank blinks, his fingers stilling as he tries to fit the battery. “No.” he says slowly, “No, I don’t suppose they did.” he shakes himself. “It doesn’t matter.” It doesn’t sound at all like he believes himself.
Gerard reaches out to touch Frank’s wrist. “I think it does matter.” He says quietly. “You must have been taught this when you were…”
“A Drac?” Frank spits, pulling himself away from Gerard’s hand. “It’s okay, you can fucking say it. I was one, after all.”
“I was going to say ‘asleep’.” Gerard says, “You were never a Drac, not really. You didn’t know.”
Frank sighs loudly, looking down at the bomb rather than at Gerard. “What if I’m remembering?” he asks in a small voice. “I don’t want to remember what they made me do.”
Gerard reaches out again, putting a hand on Frank’s arm. “It’ll be okay, Frankie. I’ll - we’ll all be here, even if you remember.”
Frank closes his eyes. “What about all the things I did? - I know I didn’t have a choice, but I’ll still know. I’ve KILLED people, Gerard. Zonerunners. You probably knew some of them. And Grace… They wanted kids to experiment on. I must’ve helped them.” Frank’s voice has taken on an edge of panic now and Gerard feels useless as he grabs the side of his head. “I just wanna pull this fucking thing out of my head. I don’t care what’ll happen as long as they can’t do that to me again.”
“Frank…” Gerard reaches up to grab hold of his hands, “We’ll find someone who knows what to do, okay? Even if we have to kidnap like, BL/ind doctors or some shit. We’ll get it out, I promise.”
Frank relaxes against him. “Okay.” He mumbles into Gerard’s leather jacket, the bomb caught between them.
“Okay.” Gerard repeats, “Now, how about we go outside and see it this thing works?”
***
They don’t mention Frank’s worries to Ray or Mikey. Gerard says it’s ridiculous to worry them over nothing and Frank doesn’t think he wants a return to Ray’s suspicious looks. Mikey’s sleeping out in the main room of the diner now, his place in the back taken by Frank - Gerard hasn’t had a nightmare since they met him, but that night it’s Frank who wakes up while it’s still pitch black outside, sitting bolt upright and gasping.
He hears the bald man telling him to stand up, so he does. It’s better like that. He pushes himself upright and opens his eyes, swinging his legs off the metal table he’d been lying on.
“There.” The bald man says, “That’s better, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He says, because it is, even though he doesn’t quite know what it’s supposed to be better than.
“Good.”
The door swings open to reveal two men in masks. The bald man smiles.
“I have a job for you.”
He’s out in the desert, in the middle of nowhere, firing his gun at a rusty ambulance. He can make out the occupants. Two men are firing out of the windows and another one of the men is already dead, slumped in the driver’s seat with a blast mark covering half his face, his jacket smouldering from the shot. The others are shooting back at him but it won’t be long until they’re dead too - outnumbered and taken by surprise. The one in the garish jacket that ran into the desert as the fight began won't last long. Frank doesn’t know why these people have to die, he doesn’t need to know. These are his orders and following orders is better.
The bald man tells him to study, puts him in a room with a machine that spills blue light on the white walls and shows him pictures. He watches them with interest; even though he’s not sure what the pictures are showing him.
Afterwards, the bald man gives him a pile of wires and metal. It’s to see how much he’s learnt.
He makes something. The bald man seems pleased with the result.
The young boy kicks him as he carries him to the van. The boy’s yelling too, for people to save him. It’s loud and it’s right in his ear and he wants the boy to shut up - can’t he see that this is for his own good? He will take him to the City and it will all be better.
The corridor is lined with pictures. Some of them have a big red cross over them. The first time he saw them he’d felt an odd clenching sensation in the pit of his stomach like he hadn’t eaten recently, but it vanished as quickly as it had arrived. There were two pictures that hadn’t been crossed out yet that the bald man always glared at more than the others. He said they were traitors.
He found that interesting.
He advanced across the concrete, recognising the Zonerunner from his picture in the corridor. The traitor had nowhere to run to and no weapon. The bald man would be pleased. Maybe he could take him in alive, that would be better - a shot to the leg to incapacitate him. His fingers twitched at the holster. He should draw his weapon. He WANTED to draw his weapon.
Everything went white.
Gerard had been curled up next to him, sleeping fully dressed except for his jacket balled up under his head but he wakes up as he feels Frank move next to him. He listens to his breathing for a few seconds, a little unsure of what he should do - he’s punched Mikey a few times when he’d grabbed hold of him before he’d been fully aware of his surroundings.
“Frankie?” he whispers as his breaths start to slow down and even out. “You okay? It’s fine, it’s only me.”
“G…Gerard?” Frank fumbles for him in the dark, hands searching for something to ground him back in the present.
Gerard grabs his hand and pulls it upwards to his hair, letting Frank grab hold of a handful. “Okay?”
Frank shakes his head, a movement Gerard can only just make out in the dark room. His hand tightens painfully in Gerard’s hair, tugging at it. “What happened?”
Frank swallows loudly and sniffs, it sounds like he’d been crying. “I remember learning to make that bomb now.” He says in an undertone.
Gerard takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He says as calmly as he can manage. “It’ll be okay, Frankie.”
Frank sniffs again. “I really, really didn’t want to remember this.”
Gerard bites his lip, “Maybe there’s nothing you can do about it…” he says sadly. “Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”
“Fuckin’ fantastic.” Frank grumbles, sounding more like himself now. He throws the blanket he’d been sleeping under aside. “I’m just gonna get some air. Sorry for waking you up.”
Gerard reaches for his jacket. “Hold on, I’ll come with you.”
“DON’T.” Frank snaps, zipping up his own jacket. “Don’t fucking…” he turns away from Gerard who’s paused, his jacket hanging from one shoulder. “Gerard, please. Just don’t.”
“Frankie?” Gerard doesn’t sound upset, just concerned.
Frank can’t bring himself to turn and face him though. He swallows hard. “Trust me; you shouldn’t want to be around me.”
“Is this about your nightmare? I told you, I don’t care about that.”
Frank grinds his teeth - Gerard just isn’t getting it. “It wasn’t a nightmare, Gee. It HAPPENED. And you should care.”
He hears Gerard’s soft footfall and tenses up. He should have known Gerard would push at this. His hand falls on Frank’s shoulder. “Frank.” He says, his voice sounds as dangerous as Frank feels. “Stop, okay. Just fucking STOP. Talk to me.”
Frank wants to be able to shake Gerard’s hand off and run - leave Gerard and the diner and the others far behind him. He knows what could happen if he stays, memories from his time ‘asleep’ are pounding through his head, given a kick-start from the dream, but it’s Gerard - even though he only met him a week ago he’s known him for years and he thinks Gerard’s been everything Frank’s wanted since the first time he saw him. He’s terrified of staying but even more scared of what’ll happen to him if he loses Gerard now.
“You shouldn’t…” he starts, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort not to cry. “I can’t… I might…” but he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence he’s trying to start. The nightmare had come to him in flashes, moments of memory, and scenes from his life - things that couldwouldwere real. It had been his hands on the wheel of a van and his finger on the trigger of a gun and he’d woken when he’d stared down the sights at Gerard.
“You’re not gonna hurt me.” Gerard says as though he’s reading Frank’s mind. He sounds as though he’s never been surer of anything in his life. It makes Frank feel sick.
“You don’t know that.” He mumbles, feeling like the heat from Gerard’s palm is going to burn through the shoulder of his jacket any second.
Gerard turns him slowly, forcing him to look at him with one hand under his chin. “You didn’t.” he says with a strange smile on his face. “You could’ve shot me back at the store and you didn’t. I trust you.”
Frank leans forward, resting his head on Gerard’s chest and listening to his heartbeat, steady and soothing. “I don’t trust myself.” He admits. “I don’t trust myself at all.”
Frank feels twitchy for the next couple of days. Every time he closes his eyes he’s back inside his own head, pointing a gun at Gerard, even though he’s never done it in real life.
He’s not sure why or even how Gerard can still trust him, not really. He knows that right here, right now, he wouldn’t - couldn’t - even think of hurting Gerard, but the small silver box is still attached and Frank can tell by the way he can feel the (firebloodmayhemred) wires snaking into his brain that the possibility is still there.
Every so often he tries to tell Gerard again. He wants to - to explain about the things he knows he’s done and the things he’s scared he’ll do - but Gerard never lets him start, never lets him get past ‘There was this man in a Pegasus station’ and ‘I dreamt…’
“Shh…” Gerard says in the dark of the diner. “You won’t hurt me.”
***
Gerard stumbles into the diner. It’s dark and deserted, the few loose chairs lie smashed on the floor, empty cans and ripped clothes are strewn everywhere.
The door to the back room lies propped open by Ray’s dead body, a blasthole burnt through his jacket and t-shirt. Gerard feels an empty clench in his gut but forces himself to step forward. There’ll be time for grief once he finds Mikey and Frank.
His footsteps sound hollow on the floortiles.
One, two, three paces and he spots Mikey behind the counter, raygun lying in a pool of blood next to his outstretched hand. Someone - something - has slit his throat from ear to ear and everything is drenched in the sticky red fluid.
Gerard swallows, sounding loud in the silent building. He tries to remember what he’d been doing but the memories won’t come. He doesn’t know where he’d been before this, if he could have stopped it.
“Frank…” he whispers, trying to push away the rising terror. The word falls into the empty room like a lead weight.
Behind him, the main door to the diner slams open and Gerard spins around on his heel, panic threatening to overcome him. Frank is standing in the doorway but if Gerard had thought the sight of him would make this horror even slightly better he’s wrong. The blood feels like it’s freezing in his veins.
“Frank!?” he gasps, but the name can’t truthfully be applied to what’s standing in front of him.
Dressed in a white suit again, raygun raised to point directly at Gerard’s head, the… thing… in the doorway is wearing Frank’s face but that’s all the similarity. Blank eyed and passive it looks like a ‘bot and the red light blinking on the box on the side of his head seems to be flashing to the beat of Gerard’s heart.
“Frank…” he says again desperately. This cannot be happening.
“Who?” asks the Frank-thing before it pulls the trigger.
Gerard sits bolt upright, gasping for breath and panting loudly.
He’s in the back of the car, there’s no-one else there but through the pitch-black night outside he can see the nearby flicker of a campfire and he releases the breath he’s been holding, dragging a shaking hand over his face and through the tangled mess of his hair, trying to calm himself down before pushing open the car door and going in search of the others.
Frank looks up as he stumbles towards the fire, Ray is in the middle of a story that Mikey is listening to intently, a tin can held loosely in his grip.
“Gerard?” Frank stands up as he says his name and it makes Ray pause mid sentence. Gerard though only has eyes for Frank.
He wobbles closer, wishing he could see Frank clearer, that he could check that he’s alive inside his head without giving away how scared he really is.
Frank seems to understand and stumbles forward to grab hold of Gerard’s upper arms. It’s still too dark to properly see him but his thumbs rub soothing circles on his shoulders and he can feel himself relaxing fraction by fraction.
“You okay?”
It’s all Gerard can do to nod, even though he’s not one hundred percent sure he still is.
***
Despite what he’s read in some of the old magazines - usually the ones with recipes for food that doesn’t exist anymore and quizzes that he doesn’t understand - Gerard thinks Frank’s smile is not at all like the sun coming out. In the zones there’s never anything BUT sun, and Frank’s wide, beaming grins are nothing like as commonplace or every-day. Rather, when Frank smiles, it’s like the first notes of a crunching guitar track on a crystal-clear signal setting up a reverb in Gerard’s chest that reaches to the very tips of his fingers and toes and changes everything that he ever thought he understood about himself.
He knows what he’d spent countless hours trying to recreate now - even though he didn’t quite understand what he was doing while ripping up the tiny pieces of paper, now he can see Frank’s eyes staring out across the diner from the centre of the collage and it almost scares him how deep inside his head Frank has settled.
It ALMOST scares him because he doesn’t think there’s anywhere else he’d want Frank to be.
He’s not naïve - Gerard’s had enough encounters in empty rooms and bathrooms and the back seats of cars with enough lonely zonerunners that he knows that at least part of what he feels for Frank is desire. Frank’s good looking after all, and when your only other companions are a guy you’d be worried would eat you alive for asking and a close blood relation it’s a natural reaction to be attracted to him. Plus, Frank’s always touching him and hugging him and stroking his hair and sleeping right next to him and Gerard might be crazy but he’s not made of stone.
However, it’s more than that.
There’s something he can’t pin down, deeper than he’s ever known that stops him every time he catches himself thinking about how easy it would be to push Frank down and see what sort of delicious noises he can wring out of him with his tongue.
All Gerard knows is that there was probably a very fucking good reason that he couldn’t look any of those ‘runners in the eyes but Frank’s not a semi-anonymous fuck in a back room and Gerard’s not going to treat him like one, so he limits himself to listening to the rhythm of Frank’s smile and feeling the tangle of his fingers in his hair.
***
They hear from two different sources that BL/ind have taken kids other than Grace. First, there’s an overheard conversation in a Pegasus, a ‘runner talking to the girl at the counter about raids on some of the dust-hole scratch farms on the outskirts of zone six. Ray flinches, looking over at Mikey, Frank and Gerard, standing suddenly still while waiting for his turn to negotiate.
‘Dracs’ Ray mouths to the three of them with a quick head jerk to the two ‘runners who are still talking. Ray watches as Frank shudders
Then there’s a message from the radio DJ stuck between two songs and coded in his usual mix of slang and style, but it all boils down to teams of Dracs that seem to be scouring the zones looking for children. Ray’s riding shotgun as Mikey drives the Trans-Am but he brings it to a screeching halt when the next song begins. He glances around at them, Frank lying with his head on Gerard’s lap on the backseat. Ray feels strangely light headed in a way that has nothing whatsoever to do with the early afternoon heat. He’s been on edge for a while now, a response to simultaneously trying to come up with a plan that doesn’t end with them all being shot thirty seconds after rolling into Battery City and trying not to let thoughts of Grace overwhelm him entirely.
It’s all finally too much, Ray’s angry now - he’s not sad or lonely or overcome by grief and loss anymore, he’s pissed off and cross and there’s no way he’s going to let BL/ind get away with this any more even if there’s no hope. It bubbles out of him, no chance of stopping it. “We gotta do something.” He growls in a low tone. “I don’t care anymore. We have to TRY. It’s not just Grace. Whatever those fuckers are doing… ”
Next to him, Mikey inhales a sharp breath through his nose and Ray realises that he doesn’t need to finish his sentence for them all to understand him. They’re his crew.
No-one says anything for a moment and then Gerard swallows loudly. “Okay.”
“I’ve been thinking of a plan.” Frank says croakily. “It’s probably a terrible plan, but…”
“It seems as though it’s the only one we’ve got.” Says Ray firmly. “Get us back to the diner, Mikey.”
***
“You’re right.” Says Mikey in his most monotone voice. “That’s a fucking ridiculous plan.”
Gerard is staring at Frank as though he’s just grown an extra head and declared his intentions to eat babies. “Fuck no.” he says loudly.
Frank raises his head. “I know you don’t want to go back, but…”
“Fuck THAT.” Gerard says angrily. “Fuck THAT, Frank. You think this is about me?” he lowers his voice to a hiss. “You know what BL/ind will do to you if you get caught? You think I’m gonna let you walk back in there?”
Frank can’t hold Gerard’s gaze and looks away.
Ray sighs. “I don’t like this.” He says in his measured voice, “But if we’re gonna go through with this then Frank’s the only one who can do it.”
Gerard explodes into movement, sweeping the empty tin cans off the table with a crash and standing up, pushing himself away from them all. “Fuck.” He yells, just to drive the point home.
“Gee…” Mikey begins.
Gerard wheels round, dragging a hand through his hair. “Have you told them?” he demands. “Have you fucking TOLD them, Frankie? About the dreams you’ve been having? About what BL/ind DID TO YOU?”
Frank stands up, breathing heavily. He leans across the table, staring at Gerard. “No.” he says, “No, I haven’t fucking told them.”
“Haven’t told us what, Frank?” Ray asks, “What the hell is going on?”
“BL/ind.” Spits Gerard. “They did something to Frankie’s head. Turned him into their perfect fucking soldier, so excuse me for not wanting them to do it again!” Two long strides and Gerard’s back at the table and grabbing at Frank’s jacket, hauling him closer. “I’ve only just FOUND you, you fucking asshole. You think I wanna risk losing you now? Especially like that. To them.”
Frank looks shaken. “Gee?...”
Gerard crumples, head going to rest on Frank’s shoulder as Frank’s hands clutch at his waist to hold him up. “But… I’m gonna have to, aren’t I? We have to - For Grace and those other kids.”
“We’ll be careful.” Mutters Frank. “I’LL be careful.”
***
It really hasn’t been easy to get Gerard on his own but eventually Mikey hits on the idea of telling Ray that Frank should lean basic mechanics in case anything should happen to the Trans-Am and waiting until they’re both outside before waylaying Gerard before he tries to follow them.
Gerard looks nervous as Mikey stands in front of him blocking the way to the door but he feels that this is a conversation that needs to be had, awkward or not.
Mikey unfolds his arms and says “Sit down.”
Gerard blinks at him but slides into the booth anyway.
Sitting opposite him, Mikey’s not one hundred percent sure about what to say, so he starts by sighing Gerard’s name in a slightly pained tone and hoping his brother will pick it up from there.
Gerard just huffs in return and glances out of the dusty window through a crack in the boards. Mikey follows his gaze. Frank is leaning over the engine of the car, looking at whatever it is Ray is pointing to.
“Gerard.” He says again, trying to sound kinder this time.
“What do you want me to say, Mikey?” Gerard asks, looking back at him, “Just fuckin’ ASK.”
Mikey shrugs half-heartedly. “What’s going on with you and Frank?”
Gerard’s face sort of freezes. “Nothing’s going on with me and Frank.” He says carefully.
“Yeah, that’s kind of my point.”
Gerard huffs again in a way that means he’s avoiding the question. Mikey rests his chin on his hand and leans forward, his elbow slipping slightly on the table top. “If you think he doesn’t feel the same way about you then you’re even crazier than I think you are.” He says quietly, trying to be as gentle as possible. Gerard flinches anyway.
“It’s not that.” He says after a pause, his gaze tracking back to Frank outside.
“You deserve to be happy, Gee.” Mikey says. He feels like this is something that needs to be pointed out. He’s seen his brother searching for something ever since they started ‘running and he has the idea that for Gerard it started a long time before that.
There’s something about Frank and the way he and Gerard are together that makes Mikey think Gerard can stop looking, but the trick is going to be getting Gerard to see what’s right in front of him.
Gerard sighs. “I know that, Mikey.” He says quietly. “I’m not quite that masochistic.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” Mikey asks. “All I’ve ever wanted since I knew how to think for myself is for you to be alright, and I’ve gotta tell you Gee, I think if you let this go you’ll probably never find it again.”
Once again, Gerard looks back to him, eyes wide, “But what am I going to do if he leaves?” he asks. The sound of his voice is almost painful. “It’s going to be hard enough as it is…”
Mikey’s initial reaction is to tell him not to be so stupid, that he’s seen the way Frank looks at him, and there’s no way in hell that Frank’s going to leave, but this is the zones and there’s more than one way to leave.
He reaches across the table and rests his hand on Gerard’s shoulder. It feels like there’s nothing else he can do.
***
They spend the next few days getting ready. Gerard, Frank and Ray take the Trans-Am to collect supplies while Mikey borrows Ray’s bike to see how many of the Drac’s battery vends he can hack. They’ll need them for their guns and Frank’s secret project.
Everyone’s uncharacteristically quiet when they meet back at the diner. Mikey hands Frank a fistful of batteries and Frank nods his thanks, taking them and Gerard into the back of the diner. He’d been working on something, Mikey knew, but hadn’t shared it with anyone - not even Gerard. He watches his brother vanish through the wonky swing doors and turns to Ray.
“You wanna sort out the transport?” he asks, “I’ll get everything sorted in here.”
Mikey had just finished double-checking the guns and their power supplies when he hears the first shout from the back room.
“You want me to fuckin’ do WHAT?! Frankie…”
Frank’s reply is too quiet for Mikey to catch, but he hears Gerard’s “PLEASE. Don’t ask me to do that.”
Mikey’s hands still on the gun in his lap. He isn’t sure he should be listening to this conversation.
He hears heavy footsteps pacing the back room and then a loud sigh. Frank says “You’re the only one I want to do this, Gee. I’m so sorry, but you have to see how important this is to me. I don’t… I don’t want to live like that again…Look, I…”
Mikey goes to help Ray with the transport. If they want to motor tomorrow, everything needs to be shiny as fuck today.
***
When Gerard and Frank finally emerge out of the diner, Frank looks far too serious and Gerard’s hair is practically sticking straight up, a sure sign that he’s feeling upset and stressed.
“Are you guys ready?” asks Ray, standing up.
“Yeah.” Says Frank flatly as Gerard stares off into the middle distance.
“How are we gonna do this?” asks Mikey. “Ray, you’ve probably got the steadiest aim.”
“No.” says Gerard.
Mikey sighs, he’s been half-expecting this. “Gee, we talked about this. It makes more sense if…”
Gerard’s gaze snaps back to them. “No.” he says again, unfolding his arms and resting them on his hips. “NO-ONE is getting shot today.” He glances at Frank and Mikey’s stomach turns over.
“BL/ind will never believe that, Gerard, and you know it.” Says Frank, “We agreed on this - Mikey has to…”
Mikey watches as Gerard’s jaw clenches and in that moment the years of living and running with his brother collapse into one shining moment of clarity. “GERARD!” he shouts, but he knows it’s too late.
“Mikey doesn’t have to do anything.” Gerard says with a twisted grin as his hand reaches for the grip of his gun.
To Mikey, it’s like everything’s running in slow-motion, both Frank and Ray are reaching out to Gerard but he’s already unholstered his gun. He adjusts the grip, pushing the barrel tight against his left shoulder. It’ll be a perfectly clean shot from that distance - the ray will burn through the flesh of Gerard’s arm, cauterising itself with minimal extra damage, but it’ll leave his left arm useless for a while.
Mikey looks away as Gerard pulls the trigger.
***
Frank’s hands start shaking as he drives the van through the outskirts of Battery City. He’s sweating behind his stolen mask and desperately wants to rip it off but he knows what a stupid idea that is. He hits a pothole in the road and hears Gerard swear faintly from the back of the van. It makes Frank’s heart skip a beat, but he keeps quiet, trying to remember the route to the clinic and stopping himself from imaging all the ways that his plan could go wrong.
As he pulls into the parking lot under the clinic, Frank thinks he’s managed to calm himself down enough to pass for normal - or as normal as a someone trying to pass as a Drac in BL/ind headquarters could possibly be anyway. He keeps his mind on the memories that had been slowly pushing their way out of their hiding places and, taking deep breaths, Frank tries to lock down all of his emotions - all the fear, for Gerard, still in pain in the back of the van, for Ray, waiting for them to return in the outskirts of the City, for Mikey, voluntarily walking into the place that had done so much to damage his brother and for himself and what might happen to him.
As he parks the van, the elevator doors swing open revealing the bald man and two Dracs.
“Here we go…” mutters Frank under his breath.
Korse steps forward as Frank mechanically opens the door. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to, Korse gives orders and doesn’t answer questions.
“You’re back.” Korse says in his flat, expressionless voice. “Alone. And you’ve bought me something.”
Frank doesn’t speak, doesn’t even bother to nod, he just follows Korse around to the back of the van. One of the Dracs unlocks the rear doors and swings them open, Frank’s chest constricting tightly as Gerard and Mikey are revealed.
Mikey’s lying on the floor of the van and doing a good job of looking like he’s been thrown there while unconscious and hasn’t woken up yet. Gerard’s kneeling by his side, his right hand clutching at the wound in his left shoulder. His head turns as the doors open; he’s breathing heavily and glares at them all through a fall of bright red hair, head down, eyes sparking with pure hate. Frank stares at him through the eyeholes of his mask. He’s never seen Gerard look like this before, never even suspected he could. It almost makes him step back, step away from the… the thing that’s taken Gerard’s place.
Korse smiles. It’s the same smile of triumph he’d given Frank before they’d taken him to the operating theatre - wide and full of teeth.
“Gerard.” Korse says, “Welcome home.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Part 6