[Bandslash, MCR] Universe Divide
Title: Universe Divide
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, pre-slash
Word Count: ~3,400
Disclaimer: This is all completely made up, except for the parts where these people actually exist.
Summary: Gerard didn't set out to be a smuggler, it's just how things worked out.
Notes: This is what happens when I'm trying to break my writer's block after reorganizing my bookshelf stuffed full of bad 70s and 80s science fiction. /o\
Gerard didn't set out to be a smuggler, it's just how things worked out. He's still a little fuzzy on the details sometimes, but as long as he has a good ship and a good crew it doesn't matter where he is or how he got there.
"You're a shitty smuggler."
Gerard sighs and looks at Frank, stretched out on the lounge couch, feet kicked up on the table. One of the details he's not too clear on is why the hell they haven't kicked Frank off the ship yet. Sure, he probably saved Gerard from being thrown in jail, but Gerard thinks he's more than returned the favor by not letting Bob space him.
"I never said I wasn't," Gerard points out. "You're the one who was excited I had a reputation.”
Frank shrugs. "Whatever, you totally do."
The fact that this so-called reputation is for being a shitty smuggler isn't something Gerard likes to dwell on.
====
====
They haven't even been on the ground for more than an hour, maybe less when someone recognizes Frank and sounds an alarm.
"What the hell did you do to piss them off so much?" Gerard demands, breath coming in short pants. They need to make it to the other end of the space port, and there's a howling mob fast on their heels.
Frank laughs, high and wild and slaps Gerard's shoulder like it's the most fun he's had in fucking years. "Come on, I can see that piece of shit you call a ship!"
Gerard snarls at the insult to his ship and pushes himself that much harder to catch up.
====
====
"I told you he was going to be trouble."
Gerard doesn't actually roll his eyes when Bob seals the ramp behind them, but it's close. So is Frank, leaning hard against Gerard's side laughing like a fucking moron.
"Not now, Bob." Gerard elbows Frank to shut him up. "Are we ready to lift off?"
Bob scowls, slapping the back of Frank's head as he passes, ducking into the corridor leading to the cockpit. Gerard starts to follow, but then Bob looks over his shoulder at him, expression unreadable. "Brian's taking care of it."
Gerard stops dead at that. "Brian?" It comes out as something approaching a squeak.
The corner of Bob's mouth twitches, and his laugh is more than a little mean. "Oh, yeah," he says as the engines roar to life. "He's pissed."
====
====
"So," Frank says.
Gerard groans, rubbing his face. They're running away from the fourth planet Frank has made enemies on, and his crew is laughing at him. Even Mikey.
He's hiding out in Ray's workshop with Frank.
"Seriously, Frank." Gerard has a sort of horrified fascination for Frank's apparent talent at pissing people off. "How the hell do you do it?"
Frank grins. "It's a gift."
Gerard sighs, poking one of Ray's gadget warily. Most of the stuff Ray comes up turns out to be surprisingly useful, but there are always, always exceptions.
"How did you end up doing this?" Frank asks, waving his hands to take in the ship, her crew. Gerard. "I mean, no offense, but you really are a shitty smuggler."
Gerard gives him a half-hearted glare. Frank smiles, the kind of smile that says he knows he's an annoying little shit.
"It's a long story," Gerard says after a moment, straightening. It had taken a long time, too damn long to realize that while the Academy might have wanted him, he didn't want it. He wasted too much of his life chasing after the wrong things, and nowhere near long enough going after the right ones.
He tosses Frank a tired smile, shrugs. "It's a long story," he repeats.
Frank's eyes narrow. There's. He looks like he knows, almost. Like he knows who Gerard used to be, why the Alliance wanted someone with a mind like his.
"Whatever," Frank says, giving Gerard that annoying grin again. "You're still a shitty smuggler."
====
====
A week later, another planet, another disastrous situation.
Frank's slumped against the wall, trying to keep his weight off his bad leg. There's a scorch mark on the shoulder of Gerard's jacket from a shot that came too damn close.
Bob isn't laughing anymore.
"How the hell does this keep happening?"
A look at Bob's face tells Gerard he's not expecting an answer, so Gerard doesn't offer one. He watches the Alliance soldiers forming a perimeter around the hangar. He can just makes out armored transports headed their way and hopes like hell they don't have anything in their arsenal capable of blowing a hole in his ship's hull.
Bob growls and and grabs Frank by the shoulder, shoving him into the co-pilot's seat. "Strap in," he orders, already climbing into the pilot's seat. "We're getting the hell out of here."
That sounds like a good idea. A great one, even. Gerard looks at Bob, at his angry, determined face and shoves off against the back of his chair to help Ray and Mikey secure the cargo.
====
====
When Gerard has trouble sleeping he wanders the ship, walking her decks and soaking in the feeling of home, safety. It's not something he had much of in the past, and sometimes he thinks he's trying to absorb as much of it as he can, store it away for when he loses it again. On those nights, he inevitably ends up in the cockpit, staring out at the black.
There are more reasons than he cares to count that will keep him up on any given night, but this time it's Frank. There have been too many close calls since he came on board for it to be simple chance.
"Hey."
Gerard looks over to see Mikey standing in the doorway. He looks tired, feet dragging as he shuffles to the co-pilot's seat and lowers himself into it. Mikey makes a face, shifting around until he's settled as comfortably as the seat will allow him.
"We've been chased off five different planets in as many weeks, and the Alliance keeps finding us," he says, hoping like hell they've managed to shake them for the time being. "I don't think it's a coincidence."
Mikey hums, tilting his head a little, but doesn't say anything. They sit in silence for a little while longer, until Mikey's yawns force him to head for his quarters, resting a hand on Gerard's shoulder in passing.
====
====
Gerard's still sitting in the cockpit long after Mikey goes back to bed, staring out at nothing when one of the screens flickers to life.
"I can't find records on him anywhere," Brian says, face set in an annoyed scowl. He sounds frustrated. Worried. "It's not a good sign."
Gerard turns his head to look at him. He doesn't know what the Alliance was going to use him for, but with the way the Alliance tended to think, Gerard has a feeling he was meant for a military application.
"Gerard - "
"Did I do the right thing?" Gerard asks, staring hard at Brian. "Taking you with us, did I do the right thing?"
Brian blinks, startled.
Gerard snorts, watching Brian. He does that a lot, he knows. Watches him. Questions him. Annoys the hell out of him, just to get a reaction. The Alliance is smug about its technology, saying they've got everything firmly in hand, that Brian and others like him are completely under control. They're supposed to learn, but only to a point. They're supposed to copy and mimic their human counterparts, but only to set them at ease, to make them less aware of the fact they're interacting with an artificial intelligence.
Bob still isn't sure of Brian, but that doesn't stop him from bitching to him about Gerard and his stupid plans. Ray pesters him about his programming, how aware he is, how alive he really is. Brian sighs and scowls, but he puts up with it because he's just as curious, just as unsure where the boundaries lay. Mikey sits down with him and plays him music, challenges him to games, hacking contests. He treats him like the others, like he's not just a complicated array of ones and zeros.
Gerard, though, Gerard gets this.
He thinks maybe this was partly what Brian was intended for, advisor to the ship's captain, but something went wrong somewhere. Instead of offering Gerard strategy, he nags. Instead of being a cold voice of reason, playing devil's advocate or spouting regulations, he mothers.
"Gerard." Brian frowns. "That's not something I'm capable of answering."
They've been running, avoiding Alliance-held worlds as best they can for over a year. Ever since Mikey stumbled over Brian in an Alliance outpost abandoned after an attack, buried deep in the main database like a dirty secret. They'd stolen him, kidnapped him, leaving behind the cargo they'd come for in the first place and fucking themselves over in the process.
Gerard looks back at Brian, at his worried frown, and thinks back to Frank's words. He's a shitty smuggler, until he isn't. Over a year, and the Alliance hasn't caught them yet. Over a year, and he can feel the noose tightening, can see the constant stress wearing on the others.
"Do you want to go back?"
Brian's expression goes perfectly blank, voice perfectly level as he answers. "If you think that would be the best course of action."
Gerard stares at him, at the face Brian chose. The one he was allowed to choose.
Over a year, and they're still free. Still flying.
"Dig deeper," Gerard says, getting to his feet. "Do whatever you have to in order to find out what the hell Frank's doing out here."
He doesn't think he was meant to see it, but Gerard knows he doesn't imagine the relief on Brian's face as he turns to leave.
====
====
Going in, watching the ground draw nearer as Bob and Brian take them in for a landing, Gerard knows Halifax is a mistake.
For the first time since they've met, Frank's nervous. Twitchy. He flashes Gerard tight, anxious smiles as they wait for the ramp to lower, Mikey and Ray at his side, Frank trailing a little behind them.
Gerard doesn't like the set up, doesn't like the convenience of it, but they can't afford to call the meet off, to cancel the contract. They're running low on supplies, and Mikey's contacts turned something up for them. It's going to be tricky, risky as hell, but they'll be able to pull it off if they're careful.
Gerard makes the mistake because he wants Frank where he can keep an eye on him. Away from the ship, from Brian.
Gerard makes the mistake, and Mikey's the one who pays for it.
====
====
In the end, Gerard's not really surprised.
"You're an Alliance spy?"
Gerard doesn't say anything. Bob's doing the yelling for him. Bob's talking about spacing Frank again, but now he's serious. Bob's pissed, feeling betrayed, and Gerard can see how Bob gained the reputation he has. Ray's quiet, watching the rest of them, waiting for his orders, which Gerard honestly appreciates.
Frank looks just as pissed as Bob. Angry his cover's been blown, but Gerard can see guilt in there too, little flickers of it shining through the anger and defiance.
Spy, agent, it's all the same.
"We're fucked.”
All eyes go to Mikey. He's sitting next to Gerard, hunched in on himself with that goddamn bruise high on his cheek. Looking at him, Gerard thinks, not for the first time in his life, that he would kill to keep him safe.
Frank doesn't react, eyes trained on the wall over Gerard's shoulder. He's good, he's had to be, Gerard realizes, to stay alive. Gerard looks at Frank and sees the guy who stowed away on his ship because he had a howling mob after his blood. He sees the guy who likes to hang off Bob while he's working on the engines, the guy who keeps Ray company in his workshop. The guy who saved Mikey's life.
"We're going to ground," Gerard says, looking at Ray. "Now."
Ray nods, and heads for the cockpit. Bob shifts, drawing Gerard's gaze. Bob's beyond angry, quietly seething, but he's not moving, not talking.
"Come on," Mikey says, levering himself out of his seat, leaning on Bob. "Ray's going to need help."
It's a lie, Ray can handle it, is a better pilot than any of them when it comes down to it. It's a lie and an excuse, and maybe something like understanding. They're smugglers, not murderers, no matter what the Alliance thinks.
When they're gone, Gerard turns to face Frank. It's not his smartest decision, being alone with him, but. Frank saved Mikey's life, and Gerard owes him for that, if nothing else.
"We're not going to space you," he says, sighing a little when Frank's eyes narrow. He doesn't know the kinds of assignments Frank's been on in the past, what he expects to happen now, but he can guess. Gerard's heard the stories about agents who weren't smart enough, good enough, just damn lucky enough. He's heard the stories and witnessed the aftermath, helped bury a body or two or more.
"Haven's far enough off the regular traffic routes that it'll take you a few days to find transport off."
Frank's head comes up at that, the harsh lines easing up a little, some of the wariness, tenseness leaving his face. "Transport?"
Looking at him, Gerard wonders if Frank really thought they would kill him. "We're not killers, Frank," Gerard says, tired, weary. "We're just trying to make a living like everyone else."
Frank crosses his arms. "Right, and you aren't scavengers. You're just the clean-up crew who comes in after the pirates are done. How fucking noble of you."
There's nothing noble about it, and Gerard's never been stupid enough, blind enough to believe it. "Ask for Saporta when you get to town," Gerard says. "Tell him I sent you. He'll make sure you get where you need to."
====
====
It's like Fate or some other fickle fucker is messing with them because they get attacked a few days out from Haven. Pirates, ruthless and desperate, hiding in the shadow of a moon.
Gerard leaves Ray and Brian to the piloting, watching from the cockpit while Mikey and Bob handle the gun turrets. A few minutes into the battle they take a serious hit, and klaxons sound with Brian's voice over it all, calm as he announces a breach in the aft section.
Gerard's blood goes cold because Frank's back there, locked away in the cargo hold.
He dodges past Bob, slithers through Mikey's grasp and slams through to the hold. Alarms are wailing, his ship is fighting for their lives, and all he has room for in his head is Frank. It's stupid, dangerous to be so worried about an Alliance agent who'd probably like to see them all locked away for the rest of their lives, but it's Frank.
"Frank!" Frank can't hear him through the blast doors, but that doesn't stop Gerard from yelling his name, fingers fumbling with the override code as he tries to get the damn doors open. He has the bulkhead doors sealed behind them, in case the breach takes out the entire ship. The doors grind open with agonizing slowness and a hand shoots out, clawing for his. Gerard grabs it and yanks as hard as he can, Frank tumbling through as the override fails and the doors blast door slams down, missing them by inches.
"Frank? Frank?"
"M'fine." Frank slurs, legs refusing to support him. "Fine."
"Yeah. Yeah, sure you are." Gerard pulls him up and gets him moving, gets him to the lounge and wraps him in all the blankets he can find, does what he can to get him warmed up.
The battle slows, gun turrets going quiet. Gerard doesn't know if it's a lull or if it's over. The pirates choosing to go after prey that won't prove to be such a challenge next time. Frank's not in immediate danger any longer, but he's tired, exhausted.
"Gerard, you might want to see this."
Gerard looks up when Ray's voice pipes over the intercom.
"I'll watch him," Mikey says, slipping into the room. "You'd better go up front."
Brian's face flickers into being on one of the lounge screens. "Gerard, you really need to see this."
"Go," Mikey says, smiling faintly. "It'll be fine."
Gerard opens his mouth to say something, but he can't seem to find the right words.
"It'll be fine," Mikey says again. "Go."
Gerard goes.
====
====
When he gets to the cockpit he finds Ray and Bob staring at the communications screen. Ray's staring, Bob's glaring, and Gerard knows why when he gets a good look at the face on the screen.
"Hey, Gerard."
"Pete?" Gerard drops a hand onto Ray's shoulder, fingers digging in a little when Pete grins at him.
Pete manages to keep his less than legal dealings under the government's radar, and for the most part he keeps his nose clean, but everyone knows he's not quite what he represents himself as.
"You're a hard man to find, Gerard Way," Pete says, tone friendly. Casual. The look in his eyes is anything but. "We've been looking for you for a while now."
Gerard's eyes go to the screens, the readout and sees the pirate ship that attacked them dead in the water. She's leaking air, twisted bits of debris spinning lazily away from her blast-scored hull, and just off its bow Pete's ship. Sleek and menacing, dark lines sweeping along her outer hull like wings.
"Things have been busy," Gerard says, flicking a look at Bob. Bob slides out of the co-pilot's chair, disappearing down the corridor while Gerard takes his place. "You know how hard it is to make a living out here."
Pete's smile turns sharp, knowing, and one of the readouts changes, Pete's ship veering away from the pirate ship, weapons gleaming under her running lights. "I heard you picked up another stray a little while ago," Pete says, still friendly. Always friendly. "Must be getting crowded over there."
Gerard doesn't bother lying to Pete when he has one of the most extensive intelligence networks around.
"What do you want with him, Pete?" Gerard's ship isn't a fighting ship, Ray's modifications aside. She's built for speed, for the quick escape, sliding in and out of places before anyone knows she's there. She's barely limping along at the moment, and not even with Ray and Bob's combined efforts could have her back up to running speed before Pete's ship disabled them.
"You've come a long way since the Academy," someone says, Pete moving aside for them.
Patrick smiles at him. The uniform he's wearing looks good on him, almost as good as the rank insignia on his collar.
Gerard sighs, sagging back in the co-pilot's seat. It's over, he knows. Over a year, and the Alliance finally found them. He manges a smile and a tired salute to Patrick. If they had to get caught, it might as well be by an old friend.
====
====
Gerard's not sure he can trust this, trust the Alliance, even with the regime change. Even with Patrick on his side. God knows he's never trusted Pete.
But. But they're still free, still flying.
Gerard's head snaps around when he hears the cry go out, other voices joining in, and watches a figure streaking away from a marketplace stall, something held close to their side.
He tries to shake the feeling of deja vu off, concentrating on what he's supposed to be doing On meeting his contact. He doesn't trust the Alliance to honor the deal Patrick offered them, but he trusts Patrick enough to do this.
"Hey," a voice says, someone stepping out from the shadows. "I heard you have a reputation."
Gerard laughs, surprised, and Frank grins back. It's been a while, too damn long, really. Months since Frank left, not looking back. Months of not knowing what was going to happen to them. It's strange working with the Alliance, but they have Patrick's promises and Pete's small fleet backing them. The truce is still new, still fragile, but it hasn't broken yet.
"I'm surprised they aren't chasing you," Gerard says, gesturing at the people running after the marketplace thief.
Frank shrugs and looks at him, meeting his eyes. "Whatever. Are you ready for this or what? We've got a job to do."
Gerard watches him and thinks about his ship. His crew. Thinks about how they might be headed in the right direction, going after the right things.
"Just for the record," he says, "I'm not a shitty smuggler."
Frank grins.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU
Pairing: Frank/Gerard, pre-slash
Word Count: ~3,400
Disclaimer: This is all completely made up, except for the parts where these people actually exist.
Summary: Gerard didn't set out to be a smuggler, it's just how things worked out.
Notes: This is what happens when I'm trying to break my writer's block after reorganizing my bookshelf stuffed full of bad 70s and 80s science fiction. /o\
Gerard didn't set out to be a smuggler, it's just how things worked out. He's still a little fuzzy on the details sometimes, but as long as he has a good ship and a good crew it doesn't matter where he is or how he got there.
"You're a shitty smuggler."
Gerard sighs and looks at Frank, stretched out on the lounge couch, feet kicked up on the table. One of the details he's not too clear on is why the hell they haven't kicked Frank off the ship yet. Sure, he probably saved Gerard from being thrown in jail, but Gerard thinks he's more than returned the favor by not letting Bob space him.
"I never said I wasn't," Gerard points out. "You're the one who was excited I had a reputation.”
Frank shrugs. "Whatever, you totally do."
The fact that this so-called reputation is for being a shitty smuggler isn't something Gerard likes to dwell on.
====
====
They haven't even been on the ground for more than an hour, maybe less when someone recognizes Frank and sounds an alarm.
"What the hell did you do to piss them off so much?" Gerard demands, breath coming in short pants. They need to make it to the other end of the space port, and there's a howling mob fast on their heels.
Frank laughs, high and wild and slaps Gerard's shoulder like it's the most fun he's had in fucking years. "Come on, I can see that piece of shit you call a ship!"
Gerard snarls at the insult to his ship and pushes himself that much harder to catch up.
====
====
"I told you he was going to be trouble."
Gerard doesn't actually roll his eyes when Bob seals the ramp behind them, but it's close. So is Frank, leaning hard against Gerard's side laughing like a fucking moron.
"Not now, Bob." Gerard elbows Frank to shut him up. "Are we ready to lift off?"
Bob scowls, slapping the back of Frank's head as he passes, ducking into the corridor leading to the cockpit. Gerard starts to follow, but then Bob looks over his shoulder at him, expression unreadable. "Brian's taking care of it."
Gerard stops dead at that. "Brian?" It comes out as something approaching a squeak.
The corner of Bob's mouth twitches, and his laugh is more than a little mean. "Oh, yeah," he says as the engines roar to life. "He's pissed."
====
====
"So," Frank says.
Gerard groans, rubbing his face. They're running away from the fourth planet Frank has made enemies on, and his crew is laughing at him. Even Mikey.
He's hiding out in Ray's workshop with Frank.
"Seriously, Frank." Gerard has a sort of horrified fascination for Frank's apparent talent at pissing people off. "How the hell do you do it?"
Frank grins. "It's a gift."
Gerard sighs, poking one of Ray's gadget warily. Most of the stuff Ray comes up turns out to be surprisingly useful, but there are always, always exceptions.
"How did you end up doing this?" Frank asks, waving his hands to take in the ship, her crew. Gerard. "I mean, no offense, but you really are a shitty smuggler."
Gerard gives him a half-hearted glare. Frank smiles, the kind of smile that says he knows he's an annoying little shit.
"It's a long story," Gerard says after a moment, straightening. It had taken a long time, too damn long to realize that while the Academy might have wanted him, he didn't want it. He wasted too much of his life chasing after the wrong things, and nowhere near long enough going after the right ones.
He tosses Frank a tired smile, shrugs. "It's a long story," he repeats.
Frank's eyes narrow. There's. He looks like he knows, almost. Like he knows who Gerard used to be, why the Alliance wanted someone with a mind like his.
"Whatever," Frank says, giving Gerard that annoying grin again. "You're still a shitty smuggler."
====
====
A week later, another planet, another disastrous situation.
Frank's slumped against the wall, trying to keep his weight off his bad leg. There's a scorch mark on the shoulder of Gerard's jacket from a shot that came too damn close.
Bob isn't laughing anymore.
"How the hell does this keep happening?"
A look at Bob's face tells Gerard he's not expecting an answer, so Gerard doesn't offer one. He watches the Alliance soldiers forming a perimeter around the hangar. He can just makes out armored transports headed their way and hopes like hell they don't have anything in their arsenal capable of blowing a hole in his ship's hull.
Bob growls and and grabs Frank by the shoulder, shoving him into the co-pilot's seat. "Strap in," he orders, already climbing into the pilot's seat. "We're getting the hell out of here."
That sounds like a good idea. A great one, even. Gerard looks at Bob, at his angry, determined face and shoves off against the back of his chair to help Ray and Mikey secure the cargo.
====
====
When Gerard has trouble sleeping he wanders the ship, walking her decks and soaking in the feeling of home, safety. It's not something he had much of in the past, and sometimes he thinks he's trying to absorb as much of it as he can, store it away for when he loses it again. On those nights, he inevitably ends up in the cockpit, staring out at the black.
There are more reasons than he cares to count that will keep him up on any given night, but this time it's Frank. There have been too many close calls since he came on board for it to be simple chance.
"Hey."
Gerard looks over to see Mikey standing in the doorway. He looks tired, feet dragging as he shuffles to the co-pilot's seat and lowers himself into it. Mikey makes a face, shifting around until he's settled as comfortably as the seat will allow him.
"We've been chased off five different planets in as many weeks, and the Alliance keeps finding us," he says, hoping like hell they've managed to shake them for the time being. "I don't think it's a coincidence."
Mikey hums, tilting his head a little, but doesn't say anything. They sit in silence for a little while longer, until Mikey's yawns force him to head for his quarters, resting a hand on Gerard's shoulder in passing.
====
====
Gerard's still sitting in the cockpit long after Mikey goes back to bed, staring out at nothing when one of the screens flickers to life.
"I can't find records on him anywhere," Brian says, face set in an annoyed scowl. He sounds frustrated. Worried. "It's not a good sign."
Gerard turns his head to look at him. He doesn't know what the Alliance was going to use him for, but with the way the Alliance tended to think, Gerard has a feeling he was meant for a military application.
"Gerard - "
"Did I do the right thing?" Gerard asks, staring hard at Brian. "Taking you with us, did I do the right thing?"
Brian blinks, startled.
Gerard snorts, watching Brian. He does that a lot, he knows. Watches him. Questions him. Annoys the hell out of him, just to get a reaction. The Alliance is smug about its technology, saying they've got everything firmly in hand, that Brian and others like him are completely under control. They're supposed to learn, but only to a point. They're supposed to copy and mimic their human counterparts, but only to set them at ease, to make them less aware of the fact they're interacting with an artificial intelligence.
Bob still isn't sure of Brian, but that doesn't stop him from bitching to him about Gerard and his stupid plans. Ray pesters him about his programming, how aware he is, how alive he really is. Brian sighs and scowls, but he puts up with it because he's just as curious, just as unsure where the boundaries lay. Mikey sits down with him and plays him music, challenges him to games, hacking contests. He treats him like the others, like he's not just a complicated array of ones and zeros.
Gerard, though, Gerard gets this.
He thinks maybe this was partly what Brian was intended for, advisor to the ship's captain, but something went wrong somewhere. Instead of offering Gerard strategy, he nags. Instead of being a cold voice of reason, playing devil's advocate or spouting regulations, he mothers.
"Gerard." Brian frowns. "That's not something I'm capable of answering."
They've been running, avoiding Alliance-held worlds as best they can for over a year. Ever since Mikey stumbled over Brian in an Alliance outpost abandoned after an attack, buried deep in the main database like a dirty secret. They'd stolen him, kidnapped him, leaving behind the cargo they'd come for in the first place and fucking themselves over in the process.
Gerard looks back at Brian, at his worried frown, and thinks back to Frank's words. He's a shitty smuggler, until he isn't. Over a year, and the Alliance hasn't caught them yet. Over a year, and he can feel the noose tightening, can see the constant stress wearing on the others.
"Do you want to go back?"
Brian's expression goes perfectly blank, voice perfectly level as he answers. "If you think that would be the best course of action."
Gerard stares at him, at the face Brian chose. The one he was allowed to choose.
Over a year, and they're still free. Still flying.
"Dig deeper," Gerard says, getting to his feet. "Do whatever you have to in order to find out what the hell Frank's doing out here."
He doesn't think he was meant to see it, but Gerard knows he doesn't imagine the relief on Brian's face as he turns to leave.
====
====
Going in, watching the ground draw nearer as Bob and Brian take them in for a landing, Gerard knows Halifax is a mistake.
For the first time since they've met, Frank's nervous. Twitchy. He flashes Gerard tight, anxious smiles as they wait for the ramp to lower, Mikey and Ray at his side, Frank trailing a little behind them.
Gerard doesn't like the set up, doesn't like the convenience of it, but they can't afford to call the meet off, to cancel the contract. They're running low on supplies, and Mikey's contacts turned something up for them. It's going to be tricky, risky as hell, but they'll be able to pull it off if they're careful.
Gerard makes the mistake because he wants Frank where he can keep an eye on him. Away from the ship, from Brian.
Gerard makes the mistake, and Mikey's the one who pays for it.
====
====
In the end, Gerard's not really surprised.
"You're an Alliance spy?"
Gerard doesn't say anything. Bob's doing the yelling for him. Bob's talking about spacing Frank again, but now he's serious. Bob's pissed, feeling betrayed, and Gerard can see how Bob gained the reputation he has. Ray's quiet, watching the rest of them, waiting for his orders, which Gerard honestly appreciates.
Frank looks just as pissed as Bob. Angry his cover's been blown, but Gerard can see guilt in there too, little flickers of it shining through the anger and defiance.
Spy, agent, it's all the same.
"We're fucked.”
All eyes go to Mikey. He's sitting next to Gerard, hunched in on himself with that goddamn bruise high on his cheek. Looking at him, Gerard thinks, not for the first time in his life, that he would kill to keep him safe.
Frank doesn't react, eyes trained on the wall over Gerard's shoulder. He's good, he's had to be, Gerard realizes, to stay alive. Gerard looks at Frank and sees the guy who stowed away on his ship because he had a howling mob after his blood. He sees the guy who likes to hang off Bob while he's working on the engines, the guy who keeps Ray company in his workshop. The guy who saved Mikey's life.
"We're going to ground," Gerard says, looking at Ray. "Now."
Ray nods, and heads for the cockpit. Bob shifts, drawing Gerard's gaze. Bob's beyond angry, quietly seething, but he's not moving, not talking.
"Come on," Mikey says, levering himself out of his seat, leaning on Bob. "Ray's going to need help."
It's a lie, Ray can handle it, is a better pilot than any of them when it comes down to it. It's a lie and an excuse, and maybe something like understanding. They're smugglers, not murderers, no matter what the Alliance thinks.
When they're gone, Gerard turns to face Frank. It's not his smartest decision, being alone with him, but. Frank saved Mikey's life, and Gerard owes him for that, if nothing else.
"We're not going to space you," he says, sighing a little when Frank's eyes narrow. He doesn't know the kinds of assignments Frank's been on in the past, what he expects to happen now, but he can guess. Gerard's heard the stories about agents who weren't smart enough, good enough, just damn lucky enough. He's heard the stories and witnessed the aftermath, helped bury a body or two or more.
"Haven's far enough off the regular traffic routes that it'll take you a few days to find transport off."
Frank's head comes up at that, the harsh lines easing up a little, some of the wariness, tenseness leaving his face. "Transport?"
Looking at him, Gerard wonders if Frank really thought they would kill him. "We're not killers, Frank," Gerard says, tired, weary. "We're just trying to make a living like everyone else."
Frank crosses his arms. "Right, and you aren't scavengers. You're just the clean-up crew who comes in after the pirates are done. How fucking noble of you."
There's nothing noble about it, and Gerard's never been stupid enough, blind enough to believe it. "Ask for Saporta when you get to town," Gerard says. "Tell him I sent you. He'll make sure you get where you need to."
====
====
It's like Fate or some other fickle fucker is messing with them because they get attacked a few days out from Haven. Pirates, ruthless and desperate, hiding in the shadow of a moon.
Gerard leaves Ray and Brian to the piloting, watching from the cockpit while Mikey and Bob handle the gun turrets. A few minutes into the battle they take a serious hit, and klaxons sound with Brian's voice over it all, calm as he announces a breach in the aft section.
Gerard's blood goes cold because Frank's back there, locked away in the cargo hold.
He dodges past Bob, slithers through Mikey's grasp and slams through to the hold. Alarms are wailing, his ship is fighting for their lives, and all he has room for in his head is Frank. It's stupid, dangerous to be so worried about an Alliance agent who'd probably like to see them all locked away for the rest of their lives, but it's Frank.
"Frank!" Frank can't hear him through the blast doors, but that doesn't stop Gerard from yelling his name, fingers fumbling with the override code as he tries to get the damn doors open. He has the bulkhead doors sealed behind them, in case the breach takes out the entire ship. The doors grind open with agonizing slowness and a hand shoots out, clawing for his. Gerard grabs it and yanks as hard as he can, Frank tumbling through as the override fails and the doors blast door slams down, missing them by inches.
"Frank? Frank?"
"M'fine." Frank slurs, legs refusing to support him. "Fine."
"Yeah. Yeah, sure you are." Gerard pulls him up and gets him moving, gets him to the lounge and wraps him in all the blankets he can find, does what he can to get him warmed up.
The battle slows, gun turrets going quiet. Gerard doesn't know if it's a lull or if it's over. The pirates choosing to go after prey that won't prove to be such a challenge next time. Frank's not in immediate danger any longer, but he's tired, exhausted.
"Gerard, you might want to see this."
Gerard looks up when Ray's voice pipes over the intercom.
"I'll watch him," Mikey says, slipping into the room. "You'd better go up front."
Brian's face flickers into being on one of the lounge screens. "Gerard, you really need to see this."
"Go," Mikey says, smiling faintly. "It'll be fine."
Gerard opens his mouth to say something, but he can't seem to find the right words.
"It'll be fine," Mikey says again. "Go."
Gerard goes.
====
====
When he gets to the cockpit he finds Ray and Bob staring at the communications screen. Ray's staring, Bob's glaring, and Gerard knows why when he gets a good look at the face on the screen.
"Hey, Gerard."
"Pete?" Gerard drops a hand onto Ray's shoulder, fingers digging in a little when Pete grins at him.
Pete manages to keep his less than legal dealings under the government's radar, and for the most part he keeps his nose clean, but everyone knows he's not quite what he represents himself as.
"You're a hard man to find, Gerard Way," Pete says, tone friendly. Casual. The look in his eyes is anything but. "We've been looking for you for a while now."
Gerard's eyes go to the screens, the readout and sees the pirate ship that attacked them dead in the water. She's leaking air, twisted bits of debris spinning lazily away from her blast-scored hull, and just off its bow Pete's ship. Sleek and menacing, dark lines sweeping along her outer hull like wings.
"Things have been busy," Gerard says, flicking a look at Bob. Bob slides out of the co-pilot's chair, disappearing down the corridor while Gerard takes his place. "You know how hard it is to make a living out here."
Pete's smile turns sharp, knowing, and one of the readouts changes, Pete's ship veering away from the pirate ship, weapons gleaming under her running lights. "I heard you picked up another stray a little while ago," Pete says, still friendly. Always friendly. "Must be getting crowded over there."
Gerard doesn't bother lying to Pete when he has one of the most extensive intelligence networks around.
"What do you want with him, Pete?" Gerard's ship isn't a fighting ship, Ray's modifications aside. She's built for speed, for the quick escape, sliding in and out of places before anyone knows she's there. She's barely limping along at the moment, and not even with Ray and Bob's combined efforts could have her back up to running speed before Pete's ship disabled them.
"You've come a long way since the Academy," someone says, Pete moving aside for them.
Patrick smiles at him. The uniform he's wearing looks good on him, almost as good as the rank insignia on his collar.
Gerard sighs, sagging back in the co-pilot's seat. It's over, he knows. Over a year, and the Alliance finally found them. He manges a smile and a tired salute to Patrick. If they had to get caught, it might as well be by an old friend.
====
====
Gerard's not sure he can trust this, trust the Alliance, even with the regime change. Even with Patrick on his side. God knows he's never trusted Pete.
But. But they're still free, still flying.
Gerard's head snaps around when he hears the cry go out, other voices joining in, and watches a figure streaking away from a marketplace stall, something held close to their side.
He tries to shake the feeling of deja vu off, concentrating on what he's supposed to be doing On meeting his contact. He doesn't trust the Alliance to honor the deal Patrick offered them, but he trusts Patrick enough to do this.
"Hey," a voice says, someone stepping out from the shadows. "I heard you have a reputation."
Gerard laughs, surprised, and Frank grins back. It's been a while, too damn long, really. Months since Frank left, not looking back. Months of not knowing what was going to happen to them. It's strange working with the Alliance, but they have Patrick's promises and Pete's small fleet backing them. The truce is still new, still fragile, but it hasn't broken yet.
"I'm surprised they aren't chasing you," Gerard says, gesturing at the people running after the marketplace thief.
Frank shrugs and looks at him, meeting his eyes. "Whatever. Are you ready for this or what? We've got a job to do."
Gerard watches him and thinks about his ship. His crew. Thinks about how they might be headed in the right direction, going after the right things.
"Just for the record," he says, "I'm not a shitty smuggler."
Frank grins.