Danger Days- Summertime
Title: Danger Days- The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys
Author: 6_pack_apathy
Pairing: Gerard/Ray Mikey/Frank
Rating: R
POV: 3rd- Gerard-centric
Summary: Our fabulous Killjoys discover that art is the weapon and use it to take down Better Living Industries
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction, none of the characters or events are true.
Author's Note: This one is a bit shorter than the past few but I think it's a good one :D
Warnings: language, violence, sex
Previous Chapters:
Prologue- Look Alive, Sunshine
Chapter One- Art is the Weapon
Chapter Two- Bullet Proof Heart
Chapter Three- S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W
Chapter Four- The Kids From Yesterday
Chapter Five- Vampire Money
Chapter Six- Planetary GO!
Chapter Seven- Party Poison
Chapter Eight- The Only Hope For Me Is You
Chapter Nine- DESTROYA
10
A new and more lighthearted pattern began to take hold in the Killjoy’s lives. Dr. D and Show Pony found new and amusing pranks to pull, via satellite, on Battery City while simultaneously trying to collect more information on Korse’s condition. Jet Star was fuzzy on the details of it; he felt certain that it was radiation poisoning or cancer and that Lynn would be in charge of all operations during his downtime.
Show Pony’s favorite thing was to do something obvious, like cut off all the lights in random buildings or make the clocks in all the offices flash to random times, then Dr. Death-Defy would recover files on new medications and policies while all of BL/ind’s tech support focused on shutting down the more blatant intrusions. He’d found that a lot of the stricter codes had been repealed but mood elevating medication was now mandatory. There were also a lot of documents on the Killjoys. Poison was relieved to see his identity hadn’t been discovered and that code name Kobra Kid still had an extermination status from the original Killjoy.
In addition to watching the two hack and shouting out ideas to Show Pony, Poison had taken to painting the Trans Am a little bit every day with Grace. The heat and dust faded out their paint jobs pretty quickly but neither of them minded. The activity was more for passing the time and keeping entertained than for achieving an actual result.
Ghoul and Kobra initially kept their distance from her, mostly because children made Ghoul uncomfortable and Jet Star raised hell at Kobra for swearing so much in front of his daughter, but the two had come around recently.
They had taken Grace with them on a ride into one of the desert towns for supplies and came back with the food they’d been sent out for and a white laser gun for the little girl.
Poison had been spray painting bright graffiti on one of the outside walls of the diner while carrying on casual conversation with Jet when the trio pulled up and Grace hopped out of the car and ran straight for Poison.
“Will you help me color it to look like Daddy’s!?” She asked excitedly while waving her new gun towards Poison’s face.
Jet Star raced forward and grabbed the gun out of her flailing hand - much to Poison’s relief - then spun around to see a giggling Ghoul and guilty looking Kobra. “What the fuck, you guys!?” He exclaimed. “She’s way too young for a weapon!”
“Am not!” Grace shouted whilst trying to grab the gun back. Jet raised it above his head where she couldn’t reach.
Kobra ran a gloved hand through his bleached out hair, all the sweat and grease slicked it back. He’d gotten a pair of sunglasses while he was in the town and the dark lenses made his face appear even more expressionless than usual. “Relax, she’s safer with one than without - it’s just a stunner anyways.”
Jet threw the gun at Kobra and Ghoul’s hand reached out and caught it with cat-like reflexes right before it hit the blonde’s face. “You got her the gun,” Jet started as he stormed inside, “you teach her how to shoot it.”
Grace ran over to Kobra and Ghoul, hands outstretched to receive her weapon. Ghoul returned it with a smirk. “Fuckin’ shiny,” he said then looked up at Kobra to give him a wink. “Me n’ Kid can send out maximum flashes speedier than Jet anyways. You’re gonna be queen of the party.”
“Let’s set up some targets for you,” Kobra added then looked around, scratching the back of his head as he scanned the desert for something acceptable for target practice.
Poison had abandoned his graffiti once Jet had flipped out and was watching his brother and Ghoul interact with Grace. He was glad to see them opening up to her. “Why don’t I go grab some cans inside while you teach her where the safety is?” He suggested as he walked past the trigger happy trio.
Once inside, he saw Jet crammed into a booth in the far corner, fuming and not cooling down any faster with Show Pony hovering over him singing the national anthem.
Poison grabbed an armful of empty cans from the trash behind the front counter then made his way over to Jet. “You’ve got to chill out a little,” he said gently.
“I don’t like seeing my daughter holding a gun, I didn’t bring her out here to fight.”
Poison scoffed. “But you knew she’d need to, right?” He asked.
“Doesn’t mean I wanna fucking see it.”
Pony had just finished screeching out “and the home of the braaaaaaaaaave!” and was taking a breath to start the song over. Poison threw one of the cans at him, an amused expression covered his face as Pony flipped up his visor to glare then turned and skated off toward the back where D was playing loud rock music for his radio show.
“You’re being a baby,” Poison started again after Pony had cleared out. He set the remaining cans down on the table then rested his elbows on it while still standing, his body bent at a ninety degree angle.
Jet’s eyes flicked over to examine the small strip of skin of Gerard’s back where his shirt had ridden up. His eyes were glued to the dimples on the small of his back - just above his ass. “Maybe,” he mumbled distractedly.
It took Party Poison a hot minute to realize what Jet was staring at. His face flushed bright red when he realized it was him. “Hey,” he said sharply while bringing his hands down to smack the table, “I’m up here! Jesus, don’t stare at me like that - I feel like a chick.”
Jet Star only very reluctantly looked back up at Poison’s face. He didn’t appear to be ashamed at all over his actions. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
Poison straightened up when he heard that and awkwardly fumbled to pull his pants up and shirt down. “I’m just going to bring these outside,” he mumbled while grabbing up the cans. His face was an even deeper shade of red as he hurried out the front door, well aware that Jet was staring at his ass the whole time.
That night Poison couldn’t fucking sleep at all. He’d wanted to grab one of those nudey magazines that D had brought and hide out in the bathroom for a while but was too embarrassed. He didn’t want everyone knowing what he was doing in there.
Drifting to sleep was always kind of difficult, the booths and tables and floor were all extremely uncomfortable but Poison tossed and turned for an entirely different reason tonight. He felt fucking restless.By the time he managed to fall into an uncomfortable slumber he jolted awake only an hour or two later.
Not only was he pissed that he’d somehow startled himself awake, but he’d woken up so hard that his jeans hurt. Fuck it, Poison thought. He hadn’t touched himself in so long, he didn’t need a magazine, everyone was asleep.
Just as Poison started to sit up and head to the bathroom he heard a noise and froze. Someone to his right had just given out a tiny hiss and quiet groan. It definitely wasn’t loud enough to wake up anyone - Poison barely even heard it - but he knew exactly what caused sounds like that. In the silence of the diner he could make out heavy breathing and the sound of someone writhing under a thin blanket.
”Oh, Oh - Frank!” The sound of his kid brother’s whispered moan made Party Poison’s whole body tense. His face got beat red and all he wanted was for the sounds to fucking stop, to be able to go outside where he didn’t have to hear anything - but he was too embarrassed to move a muscle.
Those sounds were so private, he wasn’t supposed to be hearing lips on skin.
”Mmmm - Mikey…”
Okay, fuck that, Poison didn’t give a fuck how embarrassed he felt about Ghoul and Kobra knowing that he could hear - he was not going to listen to this all night. The sound of his brother’s voice like that had already successfully killed his wood.
Poison jumped up, grabbed his jacket, and bolted for the door as quickly as possible. On his way out he could hear someone’s surprised gasp and Kobra whispering ”Shit!” while Ghoul tried to hold in a giggle.
Once outside Poison pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit up. He wandered over to the car and took a seat on the hood.
It was cold as shit outside. The solar cells on his jacket really did a much better job at keeping him cooler during the day than they did keeping him warm at night.
He stared out at the flat desert while taking drags from his cigarette. The moon was a thin crescent hanging in the sky and the radiation made the stars look so much brighter than they ever had in the old world. A few weeks ago he’d seen small trees and bushes growing out in Zone 4. Maybe the world could heal itself and become something better and more beautiful than it was before. Maybe people wouldn’t take it for granted this time around.
Thinking about all of that while taking slow drags of his cigarette clamed him down and put him almost in a sort of trance. The car sunk as someone took a seat next to him. Poison tensed at the intrusion but didn’t tear his gaze away from the sky to see who it was.
“Sorry.”
Hearing Ghoul didn’t really help Poison stay calm. He took one last drag of his cigarette then dropped it at his feet, turned to look at the dark haired young man, and punched him hard in his jaw.
Ghoul hadn’t expected the attack and was knocked clean off the car and onto the ground. He calmly stood up, dusted the sand off his ass and vest, then sat back on the car next to Poison while rubbing his jaw.
“S’okay,” Poison said quietly while fishing out a couple of cigarettes. Now that he’d gotten a swing in he felt much better. To show he was done, Poison handed one of the cigarettes to Ghoul and proceeded lighting up his own before passing the flame as well.
“I-“ Ghoul stopped to light his cigarette and think of what to say. “I like him. I didn’t mean to start a cycle but Kobra’s so… so fuckin shiny and-and sugar and he get’s the cave operating on full pistons,” Ghoul tapped his chest, over his heart, at the last part. When Poison didn’t say anything Ghoul got a worried expression. “You got your ear to the ground? Does this stick in the meat? I was coasting before and the party was never really on for me and now-“
“I get it,” Poison said, if only to spare Ghoul the chore of finding fifteen more ways to say it in Jabber, “you like Kobra.”
Ghoul nodded and ashed his cigarette.
“S’okay,” Poison said again. He was still staring at the sky, his cigarette hung from his lips, the occasional gust of wind blew the spent ash off the tip for him. “S’not like I didn’t see it coming. Just a shitty way to find out, ya know?”
Ghoul nodded and turned to stare straight ahead while he finished smoking. A comfortable silence fell over the two of them.
Poison snuck glances at his companion every now and then. He couldn’t say that he was exceptionally fond of Fun Ghoul. He couldn’t even understand what the kid was saying half the time; but even with that barrier between them he could see that the younger man was something like a wounded animal - like a bird with a broken wing. Despite how much more carefree he seemed than the rest of them, the hardened stare Ghoul had worn after Korse got away was a red flag. Whatever beef Ghoul had with Battery City’s leader was personal. Poison could respect and trust him and that was more than he could say for anyone he’d met outside the Killjoys since before the first bombs dropped.
Both of their cigarettes were out but they continued to sit together quietly. Maybe silence was a common language for the two men - Poison certainly had never felt like he’d understood Ghoul more clearly than he did at that moment.
Eventually the red head slid off the car and began to walk back toward the diner - he was feeling suddenly drained and the cold was getting the best of him.
“Frank,” Ghoul jumped when he heard his real name, it was still very dark out by Poison was pretty sure he saw a bit of red on the kid’s cheeks. “It’s called a heart,” Poison mimicked Ghoul’s earlier gesture by putting his hand on his chest, “if it was a cave then you’d be like everyone in Battery City.” Ghoul’s eyes widened slightly and he looked down as he gently touched his chest again.
Poison had walked inside, greeted by the soft snores of the sleeping Killjoys; within a matter of minutes he joined them in slumber. Ghoul remained seated on the Trans Am outside - watching the stars with his hand still pressed to feel the beat of his heart.
Author: 6_pack_apathy
Pairing: Gerard/Ray Mikey/Frank
Rating: R
POV: 3rd- Gerard-centric
Summary: Our fabulous Killjoys discover that art is the weapon and use it to take down Better Living Industries
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction, none of the characters or events are true.
Author's Note: This one is a bit shorter than the past few but I think it's a good one :D
Warnings: language, violence, sex
Previous Chapters:
Prologue- Look Alive, Sunshine
Chapter One- Art is the Weapon
Chapter Two- Bullet Proof Heart
Chapter Three- S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W
Chapter Four- The Kids From Yesterday
Chapter Five- Vampire Money
Chapter Six- Planetary GO!
Chapter Seven- Party Poison
Chapter Eight- The Only Hope For Me Is You
Chapter Nine- DESTROYA
10
A new and more lighthearted pattern began to take hold in the Killjoy’s lives. Dr. D and Show Pony found new and amusing pranks to pull, via satellite, on Battery City while simultaneously trying to collect more information on Korse’s condition. Jet Star was fuzzy on the details of it; he felt certain that it was radiation poisoning or cancer and that Lynn would be in charge of all operations during his downtime.
Show Pony’s favorite thing was to do something obvious, like cut off all the lights in random buildings or make the clocks in all the offices flash to random times, then Dr. Death-Defy would recover files on new medications and policies while all of BL/ind’s tech support focused on shutting down the more blatant intrusions. He’d found that a lot of the stricter codes had been repealed but mood elevating medication was now mandatory. There were also a lot of documents on the Killjoys. Poison was relieved to see his identity hadn’t been discovered and that code name Kobra Kid still had an extermination status from the original Killjoy.
In addition to watching the two hack and shouting out ideas to Show Pony, Poison had taken to painting the Trans Am a little bit every day with Grace. The heat and dust faded out their paint jobs pretty quickly but neither of them minded. The activity was more for passing the time and keeping entertained than for achieving an actual result.
Ghoul and Kobra initially kept their distance from her, mostly because children made Ghoul uncomfortable and Jet Star raised hell at Kobra for swearing so much in front of his daughter, but the two had come around recently.
They had taken Grace with them on a ride into one of the desert towns for supplies and came back with the food they’d been sent out for and a white laser gun for the little girl.
Poison had been spray painting bright graffiti on one of the outside walls of the diner while carrying on casual conversation with Jet when the trio pulled up and Grace hopped out of the car and ran straight for Poison.
“Will you help me color it to look like Daddy’s!?” She asked excitedly while waving her new gun towards Poison’s face.
Jet Star raced forward and grabbed the gun out of her flailing hand - much to Poison’s relief - then spun around to see a giggling Ghoul and guilty looking Kobra. “What the fuck, you guys!?” He exclaimed. “She’s way too young for a weapon!”
“Am not!” Grace shouted whilst trying to grab the gun back. Jet raised it above his head where she couldn’t reach.
Kobra ran a gloved hand through his bleached out hair, all the sweat and grease slicked it back. He’d gotten a pair of sunglasses while he was in the town and the dark lenses made his face appear even more expressionless than usual. “Relax, she’s safer with one than without - it’s just a stunner anyways.”
Jet threw the gun at Kobra and Ghoul’s hand reached out and caught it with cat-like reflexes right before it hit the blonde’s face. “You got her the gun,” Jet started as he stormed inside, “you teach her how to shoot it.”
Grace ran over to Kobra and Ghoul, hands outstretched to receive her weapon. Ghoul returned it with a smirk. “Fuckin’ shiny,” he said then looked up at Kobra to give him a wink. “Me n’ Kid can send out maximum flashes speedier than Jet anyways. You’re gonna be queen of the party.”
“Let’s set up some targets for you,” Kobra added then looked around, scratching the back of his head as he scanned the desert for something acceptable for target practice.
Poison had abandoned his graffiti once Jet had flipped out and was watching his brother and Ghoul interact with Grace. He was glad to see them opening up to her. “Why don’t I go grab some cans inside while you teach her where the safety is?” He suggested as he walked past the trigger happy trio.
Once inside, he saw Jet crammed into a booth in the far corner, fuming and not cooling down any faster with Show Pony hovering over him singing the national anthem.
Poison grabbed an armful of empty cans from the trash behind the front counter then made his way over to Jet. “You’ve got to chill out a little,” he said gently.
“I don’t like seeing my daughter holding a gun, I didn’t bring her out here to fight.”
Poison scoffed. “But you knew she’d need to, right?” He asked.
“Doesn’t mean I wanna fucking see it.”
Pony had just finished screeching out “and the home of the braaaaaaaaaave!” and was taking a breath to start the song over. Poison threw one of the cans at him, an amused expression covered his face as Pony flipped up his visor to glare then turned and skated off toward the back where D was playing loud rock music for his radio show.
“You’re being a baby,” Poison started again after Pony had cleared out. He set the remaining cans down on the table then rested his elbows on it while still standing, his body bent at a ninety degree angle.
Jet’s eyes flicked over to examine the small strip of skin of Gerard’s back where his shirt had ridden up. His eyes were glued to the dimples on the small of his back - just above his ass. “Maybe,” he mumbled distractedly.
It took Party Poison a hot minute to realize what Jet was staring at. His face flushed bright red when he realized it was him. “Hey,” he said sharply while bringing his hands down to smack the table, “I’m up here! Jesus, don’t stare at me like that - I feel like a chick.”
Jet Star only very reluctantly looked back up at Poison’s face. He didn’t appear to be ashamed at all over his actions. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”
Poison straightened up when he heard that and awkwardly fumbled to pull his pants up and shirt down. “I’m just going to bring these outside,” he mumbled while grabbing up the cans. His face was an even deeper shade of red as he hurried out the front door, well aware that Jet was staring at his ass the whole time.
That night Poison couldn’t fucking sleep at all. He’d wanted to grab one of those nudey magazines that D had brought and hide out in the bathroom for a while but was too embarrassed. He didn’t want everyone knowing what he was doing in there.
Drifting to sleep was always kind of difficult, the booths and tables and floor were all extremely uncomfortable but Poison tossed and turned for an entirely different reason tonight. He felt fucking restless.By the time he managed to fall into an uncomfortable slumber he jolted awake only an hour or two later.
Not only was he pissed that he’d somehow startled himself awake, but he’d woken up so hard that his jeans hurt. Fuck it, Poison thought. He hadn’t touched himself in so long, he didn’t need a magazine, everyone was asleep.
Just as Poison started to sit up and head to the bathroom he heard a noise and froze. Someone to his right had just given out a tiny hiss and quiet groan. It definitely wasn’t loud enough to wake up anyone - Poison barely even heard it - but he knew exactly what caused sounds like that. In the silence of the diner he could make out heavy breathing and the sound of someone writhing under a thin blanket.
”Oh, Oh - Frank!” The sound of his kid brother’s whispered moan made Party Poison’s whole body tense. His face got beat red and all he wanted was for the sounds to fucking stop, to be able to go outside where he didn’t have to hear anything - but he was too embarrassed to move a muscle.
Those sounds were so private, he wasn’t supposed to be hearing lips on skin.
”Mmmm - Mikey…”
Okay, fuck that, Poison didn’t give a fuck how embarrassed he felt about Ghoul and Kobra knowing that he could hear - he was not going to listen to this all night. The sound of his brother’s voice like that had already successfully killed his wood.
Poison jumped up, grabbed his jacket, and bolted for the door as quickly as possible. On his way out he could hear someone’s surprised gasp and Kobra whispering ”Shit!” while Ghoul tried to hold in a giggle.
Once outside Poison pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lit up. He wandered over to the car and took a seat on the hood.
It was cold as shit outside. The solar cells on his jacket really did a much better job at keeping him cooler during the day than they did keeping him warm at night.
He stared out at the flat desert while taking drags from his cigarette. The moon was a thin crescent hanging in the sky and the radiation made the stars look so much brighter than they ever had in the old world. A few weeks ago he’d seen small trees and bushes growing out in Zone 4. Maybe the world could heal itself and become something better and more beautiful than it was before. Maybe people wouldn’t take it for granted this time around.
Thinking about all of that while taking slow drags of his cigarette clamed him down and put him almost in a sort of trance. The car sunk as someone took a seat next to him. Poison tensed at the intrusion but didn’t tear his gaze away from the sky to see who it was.
“Sorry.”
Hearing Ghoul didn’t really help Poison stay calm. He took one last drag of his cigarette then dropped it at his feet, turned to look at the dark haired young man, and punched him hard in his jaw.
Ghoul hadn’t expected the attack and was knocked clean off the car and onto the ground. He calmly stood up, dusted the sand off his ass and vest, then sat back on the car next to Poison while rubbing his jaw.
“S’okay,” Poison said quietly while fishing out a couple of cigarettes. Now that he’d gotten a swing in he felt much better. To show he was done, Poison handed one of the cigarettes to Ghoul and proceeded lighting up his own before passing the flame as well.
“I-“ Ghoul stopped to light his cigarette and think of what to say. “I like him. I didn’t mean to start a cycle but Kobra’s so… so fuckin shiny and-and sugar and he get’s the cave operating on full pistons,” Ghoul tapped his chest, over his heart, at the last part. When Poison didn’t say anything Ghoul got a worried expression. “You got your ear to the ground? Does this stick in the meat? I was coasting before and the party was never really on for me and now-“
“I get it,” Poison said, if only to spare Ghoul the chore of finding fifteen more ways to say it in Jabber, “you like Kobra.”
Ghoul nodded and ashed his cigarette.
“S’okay,” Poison said again. He was still staring at the sky, his cigarette hung from his lips, the occasional gust of wind blew the spent ash off the tip for him. “S’not like I didn’t see it coming. Just a shitty way to find out, ya know?”
Ghoul nodded and turned to stare straight ahead while he finished smoking. A comfortable silence fell over the two of them.
Poison snuck glances at his companion every now and then. He couldn’t say that he was exceptionally fond of Fun Ghoul. He couldn’t even understand what the kid was saying half the time; but even with that barrier between them he could see that the younger man was something like a wounded animal - like a bird with a broken wing. Despite how much more carefree he seemed than the rest of them, the hardened stare Ghoul had worn after Korse got away was a red flag. Whatever beef Ghoul had with Battery City’s leader was personal. Poison could respect and trust him and that was more than he could say for anyone he’d met outside the Killjoys since before the first bombs dropped.
Both of their cigarettes were out but they continued to sit together quietly. Maybe silence was a common language for the two men - Poison certainly had never felt like he’d understood Ghoul more clearly than he did at that moment.
Eventually the red head slid off the car and began to walk back toward the diner - he was feeling suddenly drained and the cold was getting the best of him.
“Frank,” Ghoul jumped when he heard his real name, it was still very dark out by Poison was pretty sure he saw a bit of red on the kid’s cheeks. “It’s called a heart,” Poison mimicked Ghoul’s earlier gesture by putting his hand on his chest, “if it was a cave then you’d be like everyone in Battery City.” Ghoul’s eyes widened slightly and he looked down as he gently touched his chest again.
Poison had walked inside, greeted by the soft snores of the sleeping Killjoys; within a matter of minutes he joined them in slumber. Ghoul remained seated on the Trans Am outside - watching the stars with his hand still pressed to feel the beat of his heart.