The car was unfamiliar, but the pair that got out of it wasn't, and for more than just the fact that Gerard had been told at least once daily that they were Public Enemy Number One. It was a faint sensation, no more than a twinge of something deep in his gut, but it was dizzying all the same, and it was enough to spur him into action, a sudden need to get to the bottom of this before the feeling left him again clawing its way out of some long forgotten part of his brain
( ... )
Mikey propped his arm in the open window, his elbow pressed into the bottom of it, his hand gripping the top tightly, holding on as Frank has ordered, and glanced into the side mirror in spite of himself, the sour look on his face deepening almost immediately. He hadn't gotten that good a look at the car behind them, but the wrong color or not, he'd have known the top of Gerard's head anywhere, and, as he had feared, Korse had let him drive. They might lose the Dracs, but they'd never shake his brother, and while he wanted him back more than anything, they couldn't do anything with Korse right there. Not without risking losing themselves again.
Huffing out a sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment, hating himself, and then moved to start climbing out the window again, readying his gun. And before Frank could ask, he called out, "That sonovabitch's got Gee driving. I'm gonna put their tires out."
Frank shot another glance at the mirror. The car was close enough now that he could see Mikey was right, and he clenched his teeth for a moment, letting out a breath through his nose. He eased off the gas a little, both trying to help Mikey balance and to get him in range of the other car, driving as carefully as he could considering the dirt road under their wheels and the way the track wound its way through the desert. "Be careful," he returned, not sure whether he meant for Mikey to be careful about not falling out of the car or to be careful about what shots he took. It could have easily gone either way.
Mikey muttered something in response, though it was swallowed by the wind, and waited for Gerard and Korse's car to get closer, taking that moment to line up his shot. He couldn't be sure whether Gerard just didn't know what he was aiming at, or if he was somehow trying to help them, however unaware of that fact as he might have been on the surface, but either way, it seemed to easy. He squeezed the trigger, the front tire on Korse's Trans Am exploded, and the car wheeled away, his brother working frantically to regain control of the car before it flipped.
Gerard managed -- really, Mikey had expected no less -- and he flipped them a mockingly genial wave before sliding back into his seat.
Frank's faith in Gerard's driving skills was just as strong, but he still let out a relieved breath when the car skidded to a safe halt behind them. As soon as Mikey was back in the car, he punched the gas again, watching the Trans Am fade into the distance. Before too much longer, the Dracs were falling back, too, and that was a relief for a different reason. After a few more minutes, he turned down another track, intending to take them in a wide spiral away from the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit and back toward the diner.
He was silent for a while, keeping an eye on the mirrors in case of a renewed pursuit and giving them both the time they needed to calm down. Finally, though, when the weight on his chest was more bearable and he felt sure they weren't still being followed, he pulled their speed back to slightly less unreasonable levels, turning his head to look at Mikey. "You okay?"
Mikey flashed him a look that, if his eyes weren't still shaded by his sunglasses, likely would have been equal parts offended and annoyed, then turned his attentions back to the road in front of them. Never mind that the way he was white-knuckling the ray gun in his lap was probably more than indicative of his mood. "I'll be fine. We got Ray out. That's something, right?"
Considering he wasn't sure he could let go of the steering wheel right now if he had to, Frank knew the feeling. "Yeah. It's something," he agreed shortly, steering them on toward home.
"It's going to be a long couple of days," he said after a moment and a bit less heatedly. It was going to be more than that, if his own fevered memories of the detox process were any indication, and as much as he wanted to be there with Ray -- for him -- he wanted to be out trying to find and catch Gerard more than anything, too.
"He'll get through it," he returned, feeling even as he said it like he should be saying "we'll". "And then the three of us will go get Gee and kick Korse's ass back to the Battery." He shot his usual fierce grin at Mikey, though it felt a little wrong on his face. It probably would until this was all over.
Frank nodded. "He deserves it. Pony's already gonna kick his ass for screwing up the car, so it's only fair you get a turn." He paused for a second before continuing. "Though I can think of other ways he can make it up to me." He waggled his eyebrows at Mikey, smirking.
Mikey made a show of rolling his eyes, though the smile he was wearing grew a bit and took a step more in the direction of genuine. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."
Which was the whole point, really, and Frank's smile brightened a bit in response. "Well, you have known me for longer than... oh, fifteen minutes, you know."
"Or because it's been more than fifteen minutes since you slipped and fell on Gee's dick," Mikey shot back.
His tone was surprisingly light, though -- perhaps even more so than it needed to be. He'd gotten over whatever issues he might have had with Frank being with Gerard a long time ago, if he'd had had any to begin with and he hadn't just been putting on a show -- it felt like it had been so long that he had a right not to remember clearly -- and he didn't want the other man thinking he was serious. Not when things were tense as it is. Not when he needed him or when they all needed each other.
Frank couldn't actually remember either, to be honest. Though he was vaguely certain there had been a couple of betting pools going round the zones as to when they would finally wise up and get together, even if Mikey had only tried (and failed) to look innocent when Frank had asked about it that one time.
"That's still my story, and nothing you say can change that," he returned petulantly, adding a "So there." for good measure and effect.
He wasn't serious either, though, and he didn't try to look it for long, grinning outright after a moment.
"So there?" Mikey parroted, his eyebrows creeping up over the tops of his sunglasses. "You sure you're even old enough to be having this conversation, man?"
This felt good (normal) and he tried not to let thoughts of how screwed up things still were poison that. It helped that Gerard and Korse weren't on their tail still and that all he could see in the rear view mirror was half of Frank's head and the tiniest bit of Ray's legs. If he tried really hard, and God was he, he could pretend Ray wasn't tied up in the back, that'd he'd fallen asleep back there, and that they were all out of the diner just for the sake of being out.
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Huffing out a sigh, he closed his eyes for a moment, hating himself, and then moved to start climbing out the window again, readying his gun. And before Frank could ask, he called out, "That sonovabitch's got Gee driving. I'm gonna put their tires out."
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Gerard managed -- really, Mikey had expected no less -- and he flipped them a mockingly genial wave before sliding back into his seat.
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He was silent for a while, keeping an eye on the mirrors in case of a renewed pursuit and giving them both the time they needed to calm down. Finally, though, when the weight on his chest was more bearable and he felt sure they weren't still being followed, he pulled their speed back to slightly less unreasonable levels, turning his head to look at Mikey. "You okay?"
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He probably wouldn't, but once he could remember where and who he was, he'd at least threaten it.
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His tone was surprisingly light, though -- perhaps even more so than it needed to be. He'd gotten over whatever issues he might have had with Frank being with Gerard a long time ago, if he'd had had any to begin with and he hadn't just been putting on a show -- it felt like it had been so long that he had a right not to remember clearly -- and he didn't want the other man thinking he was serious. Not when things were tense as it is. Not when he needed him or when they all needed each other.
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"That's still my story, and nothing you say can change that," he returned petulantly, adding a "So there." for good measure and effect.
He wasn't serious either, though, and he didn't try to look it for long, grinning outright after a moment.
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This felt good (normal) and he tried not to let thoughts of how screwed up things still were poison that. It helped that Gerard and Korse weren't on their tail still and that all he could see in the rear view mirror was half of Frank's head and the tiniest bit of Ray's legs. If he tried really hard, and God was he, he could pretend Ray wasn't tied up in the back, that'd he'd fallen asleep back there, and that they were all out of the diner just for the sake of being out.
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