Pairings: PP!Gerard/FG!Frank, PP!Gerard/Korse non con.
Summary: The Killjoys are in trouble. Korse has caught up with them, and there is no where left to run.
Warnings: Dark fic, Rape, Oral sex, Angst, HurtComfort, Adult themes, Torture, Violence, Swearing.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don't sue me! This is just for pleasure!
Authors Note: Okay, so, I accept the last chapter was a bit on the short side so I thought I'd update really quickly for you guys. And this is a BIG chapter, probably the most important so far so I really hope this is okay :) Please can everyone who reads this comment so I know what you think?? I'm a bit nervous! Daft really! Anyway, enjoy! Special thanks as always to my beta camelotcasper. Thanks for being so great and for getting this back to me so quickly!! Love ya!!
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven , Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen
Frank watched Gerard walking towards the camp, and, after a moment of wanting desperately to call out to him, he sighed, and then threw his half smoked cigarette away. He could see Gerard was upset and he badly wanted to go to him, but, on this occasion, he knew it wouldn't help. Gerard had only once possible choice to make, and that choice did not involve Frank. Not with him being any more than a friend any way. Not any longer. Frank knew the other man was besotted with Lynz, and had been from the first moment he'd met her. It truly had been love at first sight for both of them. He knew she was the one Gerard was meant to be with. He had simply been a convenient replacement in her absence.
He would be what he had always been. Gerard's best friend. And he would do what was best for Gerard; he would let him go.
He watched, approvingly, as Gerard went straight up to where his younger brother was resting by the fire, knelt down beside him, and gave him a huge hug. Frank looked on, pleased, as Mikey threw his arms around Gerard and clung to him. He knew how much the Way brothers had always needed each other, knew how much each men cared for the other. He saw Ray join Gerard and Mikey, putting an arm on both of the brother's backs. More than ever, Frank longed to join them, to complete the group and just be there for his best friends and feel their support for him but, in that moment, he wasn't so sure he deserved it. He was sure Gerard cared greatly for him, but he wasn't what the other man needed. He needed the woman who had made him whole.
Maybe Frank could help him with that.
He whirled round, planning to walk back toward the small barn, but he turned to quickly on his injured leg and he gasped in pain. He swore at his own stupidity as the sudden hot pain suddenly flared up and he grabbed for his leg, trying to stop the pain and keep his balance. When it didn't stop, he stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small bottle of pills he had come to love and despise in equal measure. He hurriedly gulped down two of the tiny pills and then paused, trying to breathe through the pain, waiting for the agony to cease. Sure enough, the medicine did its work almost immediately and his leg stopped throbbing. After a beat, he was able to walk on it again inhibited.
He let out a low sigh. None of this was what he wanted. He knew that the pills were not a good idea, nor was trusting Bert, but what choice did he have? If he stopped taking the drugs, the headaches would return with a vengeance and then he'd be good for nothing, let alone being a Killjoy. Plus, with the added injuries Lindsey's torture had forced on him, the pills were the only stuff keeping him going. And the last thing Gerard, Mikey and Ray needed right then was him causing them unnecessary additional dramas. So, taking the BL/I drugs was the only choice he had. He was also very much aware that coming clean and telling the others what he was doing was not an option for him. They wouldn't understand, and, he was sure, Gerard would be pretty pissed too.
'It's only a small dosage,'1 a voice inside whispered to him. 'Once all the pills are gone, its over. He doesn't need to know.'
With a heavy sigh, the brunette made his way to the tiny building they were using to hold their captive. After a moment's hesitation, Frank pushed open the door.
Lindsey was sat on some boxes in the centre of the room, her eyes widening when she saw Frank.
She nodded to him.
“Fun Ghoul. It's good to see you.”
He closed the door quietly. “Hello Lindsey.”
Lindsey blinked. “Come to talk?”
Frank shrugged. “Well, it’s an improvement on being tortured, I guess.”
Lindsey didn't respond. Frank stepped closer, his hands plunged deeply into his pockets.
“Gerard only just left,” she informed him. “We were talking about you.”
Frank tried not to react. “Oh?”
“He cares a lot for you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“Feelings,” Lindsey echoed, and smiled, as if the word seemed odd to her. “I'm still getting used to feeling anything. Feelings are strange. I was taught not to feel.”
Frank snorted. “You were taught to be inhuman, you mean.”
She grimaced. “I'm as human as you are.”
Frank laughed incredulously. “Oh, is that right? Tell me then, Lindsey, what do you remember of your childhood?”
Lindsey frowned. “I have some flashes of memories,” she replied.
He gestured. “Go on.”
She was quiet for a moment. Finally, she cleared her throat and fixed him with a steely glare. “It’s as if, sometimes, I’m looking through a tunnel to a time long ago. I see myself growing up on a farm, with my numerous brothers and sisters. I see my mom and my dad and remember happy Christmastimes and wonderful summers, all together. Before the bombs dropped, I was working, in the City. My life was complete, I had a boyfriend and he was going to ask me to marry him-”
Frank had heard enough.
“Fucking hell! Those memories the fuckers gave you are fake.” He growled. “And sick. None of that shit was real. You may as well have been born in some fucking operating theatre in some fucking hospital. They saw to it that you had no life before that.”
She was giving him a funny look. He didn't like it.
“What?” He demanded.
A beat passed, and then Lindsey spoke up. “You are taking BL/I drugs, aren't you?”
Frank froze. He was completely taken aback by her forwardness.
“I don't know what-”
She cut him off quickly. “Don't bother lying to me, Ghoul. I know the signs better than you can imagine. Its there in your eyes, your voice, your behaviour, and the way you walk. I know Gerard is taking pills too, for the affects the torture drugs had on him. I may well be a “new born”, but I was still dependant on my next fix from the earliest moment I do remember. The drugs are all that matter, Frank. Don’t you feel it? As soon as you start, you can't stop.” She eyed him curiously. “Question is though, why would a Killjoy be taking BL/I supplies unless he had no choice?”
He went to deny it, wanted to tell her to shut up and to leave him alone, but he couldn't. What would have been the point?
“For the pain,” he whispered in a tiny, shamed voice.
She glanced at him then. “What pain?” She paused then, realising the answer to her own question. “Of course. I was wondering how you were walking on your wounded leg so easily.” She tossed her head back. “The drugs are to battle the pain caused by the torture, I presume?”
His eyes blazed as he regarded her. “You sound almost proud.”
She shrugged. “It's not pride in my hurting you, Killjoy. But, I cannot be blamed either. I was a Draculoid, you were a rebel. I was following my orders. I did what it was in my nature to do, I behaved as I had been trained to behave. You can't dislike me for something I couldn't help.”
Frank scoffed. “And Mikey? Who can't even bring himself to come here and see you?”
A little red appeared in her cheeks. “I did what I was programmed to do,” she muttered.
Her frown deepened. “It's not an excuse, it's a reason.” She eyed him coldly. “And what about you, Fun Ghoul? Does Party Poison know how much pain you're in? I'm assuming he hasn't tended to the ray blast I gave you earlier? I wonder how he would feel if he knew you were taking BL/I products behind his back-”
“He is more concerned with getting his wife back right now,” Frank retorted, at once. “And that’s the way it should be.”
“And who are you concerned with, Frank?” Lindsey questioned.
Frank grounded his teeth.
“What do you mean?” He asked, in hushed tones.
“Are you in love with Gerard?” She wasn't embarrassed at all; it was a simple question for her. Frank, however, was aghast.
“I don't have to answer that.”
“Funny,” she noted. “Gerard said the same thing.”
He stared at her. She waited, not taking her eyes off of his.
Finally, he spoke up again. “Yes, I fucking love him. More than anything else in this life. I'd do anything for him. Fucking anything. And that's why I'm letting him go. If he needs me, I'll be right here. Always waiting. Because he's my best friend in this whole shitty, fucked up world.”
Lindsey had been holding her breath. She let it out with a sigh, and then placed her head on one side thoughtfully. “Just best friends? That's all?”
“Me and him as anything more than that,” Frank continued; “Is over. It has to be.”
“Does Gerard know that?”
“He has to concentrate on you. I'm just an unwanted distraction for him.”
“But he loves-”
“It's not me he wants,” Frank interrupted. He didn't want to hear it. He had to make her understand that Gerard's future involved her, not him, despite the fact that every word was slowly killing him. “It's you. It was always you. I was there for him when you couldn't be. Simple as that.”
She looked down at her bound hands, apparently unsure how to respond. Frank pressed on.
“And if he can find you again, the old you, then the two of you have to chance to-”.
“A happy ending for me isn't possible,” she stated.
Frank scowled. He didn't like her tone. It sounded as if she'd given up and Frank knew Gerard would never accept that.
“Gerard can help you.” He promised her. “We all can. If you want help, that is. Sounds like you've already given up on the life we are trying to find for you.”
“It doesn't work like that,” she snapped back. “I don't think there is any going back to the life before the conditioning. Who I am now might be a story, or a lie, but it's all I have to work with.”
“They did this to you,” Frank told her. “The Corporation.”
“The Corporation took away my fears and gave me a place in the world.” She scolded. “You have no comprehension of what it's like, to belong to something like that. All you want to do is destroy something that is beautiful. You rebels will never learn.”
He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Spoken like a true Drac.”
Lindsey glared at him. “Gerard has belief in me that I can be a better person.”
“Gerard has to believe,” he countered. “He still loves you. But you need to try starting with just being a person first,” Frank retorted. “Anything is better than a life as a drone.”
She stared at him. He could see the fury in her gaze.
“I belonged.” She said, simply.
“Great,” he responded, after a beat. “So do I.”
“You're little gang of Killjoys,” she taunted quietly. “You're just four men.”
He felt his frustration turning to anger. “Well, I reckon I'm gonna be on the winning team,” he snapped, with a shrug. “Imagine that.”
“Imagination isn't everything,” she replied, looking away from him. “You are too confident, Fun Ghoul.”
“Why not?” He threw back. “I'm not just talking about their lack of any ability to think for themselves, LynZ;” He titled his head onto one side. “Though it definitely helps.”
She frowned, still staring down at the ground. “Tell me then. Why else would the Draculoid army, who outnumber you and your rebel buddies so completely, be at a disadvantage?”
Frank gave her a strange look. “I don't know, but maybe because their fucking leader went and got himself ghosted by a lowly rebel?”
Lindsey's head snapped back round. “What did you say?”
Frank didn't reply, he merely smiled, but LynZ only looked even more perplexed.
“Are you saying to me that Exterminator Korse has been killed?”
“That's exactly what I'm saying, baby.”
Lindsey shook her head stupidly.
“But Korse cannot be dead,” she managed
“He's in the ground, trust me.”
“Are you sure?”
“I should think that I'm fucking sure, LynZ. I did it. Killed him with the Company's own fucking drugs. Poetic way to go, huh?”
She held up a shaky hand. “Wait. The exterminator is dead? You killed him?”
Frank was incredulous. “Is there an echo in here?” He chuckled, amused, but when she continued just to stare open mouthed at him, he relented slightly. “You didn't know?”
“When?” She breathed. “Tell me.”
“About a week ago,” Frank answered, regarding her closely now. “The same day that the town was destroyed.”
She blinked. “A week ago? But that can't-” Lindsey broke off quickly, and turned her head away.
“What do you mean?” Frank demanded, his brow furrowed in his confusion.
Lindsey felt a flicker awaken deep within her. Now, in that moment, she finally understood. This is what Gerard and Frank had both meant. This was when she had the chance to decide what kind of a person she truly wanted to be.
What path would she take?
Make a decision, pick a side.
Lindsey closed her eyes. She was not a drone. Neither was she Gerard's lost wife. She was her own person, her mind was her own. And she would make her own decisions
She opened her eyes and slowly met Frank's questioning gaze once more.
She had made up her mind.
She would not be a victim any longer. She was not their slave.
She was a person.
Lindsey cleared her throat. “Frank-”
A very unexpected, and very large and loud explosion suddenly took them both by surprise. They stared at each other, shocked, exchanged confused glances. They were both flung to the floor then by the force of a second blast, right outside the barn. The sound of panicked shouting then filled the silent air. Frank scrambled to his feet and ran to the door, pulling it open and cautiously looked out. He jumped back as a raygun shot whizzed past him and hit the wall behind Lindsey. She cowered, stunned by what was happening.
Frank indicated for her to keep down, and she obeyed.
“More of your buddies,” he told her, breathlessly.
She stared back wide-eyed. “Frank, I have to-”
“Frank! Where the fuck are you?” Gerard's desperate cries were heard, and Frank, grim faced, moved to the door. He peered out, and saw a patrol of Dracs had attacked the other Killjoys, and his friends were now fighting for their lives. Again. And they needed him.
“Gotta go,” Frank told Lindsey
She tried to grab for him, only to again be blocked by the bonds on her wrists. “Frank, wait. You have to listen to me!”
“Lindsey, look around you! We’re under attack here and the others need me! I gotta go-”
“No, you need to listen to me! Please, it's important. This will only take a second-”
He hesitated, wanted to stay and hear Lindsey out, but also desperate to help the others. After a second’s deliberation, he gave her an encouraging smile. “I've got to help the other guys, LynZ. I'll be right back.”
She struggled against her bonds. “Untie me, then! Come on, Frank! Let me help!”
“You're still a Drac,” he muttered, in a quandary of what to do for the best.
She gave a small cry of frustration.
“Let me prove to you I can be a person and not a drone, just like you said!”
He seemed to consider the offer. There were more shouts from outside and he swore under his breath, waving a hand to Lindsey, indicating for her to stay put.
“You'll be a lot safer here,” he told her. “Just sit tight for now. There's not many of them, this won't take long-”
There was a loud noise from right outside, and then Bert suddenly burst in, wide-eyed and staring at Frank in confusion.
“What the hell is going on?” He demanded. “Did you not hear the ray gun blasts, Frank? We're being attacked and we need you! Gerard is frantic! Get your butt out there!” He looked from Frank to Lindsey, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What were you doing?”
“Whatever your thinking,” Frank snarled, “you can fucking forget it. We were talking, that's all.”
“Whatever,” Bert threw back at him. “If you're done, I think your boyfriend and best friends could use your help! So get to it!”
Frank didn't appreciate being ordered around by Bert, but he knew he was right. He gave Lindsey an apologetic smile, and then rushed out, already screaming Gerard's name as he flew through the door.
Bert stood in the doorway for a second, watching the Killjoys progress closely. He then closed the door carefully, turned and eyed Lindsey, almost with fascination.
“So you're the woman who tamed Gerard,” he noted quietly. He smirked. “Well, you were, I mean. Not anymore.”
“Please,” Lindsey said quickly. “I have to tell you something, I need you to get to Gerard and warn him-”
“Steady on Sweet Cheeks,” Bert interjected, his tone condescending. “Gerard has more to worry about then-”
“Korse is alive!”
Bert froze. He stared at Lindsey dumbly. “What?” He finally managed to splutter out. “You're wrong. Frank killed him.”
“No,” she urged. “Frank made a mistake. I know he's still alive. And he'll be coming after you.” She glanced away. “And me. I've failed.” When she looked back up at him, her eyes were bright. “I'm glad I failed. They lied to me. Everything about them is a lie. Including his death. He's coming for Gerard, Bert. You HAVE to warn him!”
Bert, gazing at her, held up a hand to shush her. “Just calm down, baby,” he pleaded. “What are you talking-”
“I saw him!” Lindsey exclaimed. She had run out of patience. Why wasn't Bert listening to her? Why the hell wasn't he already running to Gerard? “I remember him being there, when I was reprogrammed. I could see his face, watching me.”
Bert shook his head stupidly. “Shit! Frank told us he'd killed him. The others saw his body-.”
She shrugged and gestured theatrically. “Well, Frank was wrong. They all were.” She pointed to the door desperately. “Please! We're wasting time! We have to warn the guys! Now.”
Something unreadable flashed across Bert's face. “So, you are definitely gonna tell Gerard, then?”
She blinked. “Of course.” She held up her bound wrists, indicating for him to release her. “I may not be his Lindsey but I know what I have to do, whoever I am.” She gestured angrily. “Come on, Bert. Untie me. We have to get out there and help them!”
Bert began to walk slowly toward her silently. When he reached her, he leaned forward and extended his arms out to hers, as if he intended to set her free. But, just as he went to take hold of the ropes keeping her prisoner, he stopped.
His eyes met hers.
“You know what Lindsey?” He whispered. “I had a feeling you might say that.”
Lindsey shuddered. His eyes were so cold, and she was taken aback by how unnervingly calm he suddenly was. There was also something about the way he was staring almost into her. She felt sick.
She knew she was in serious trouble.
She had to find a way out. She tried again.
“Bert,” she beseeched, her voice quivering. “Hurry!”
“Sorry sweetheart,” he whispered. “Can't do it.”
He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small capsule and a syringe. He prepared the injection quickly, and expertly, and then walked back over to her, the syringe between his finger and thumb.
He reached for her then, and she recoiled away. “Keep back! Don’t! What’s wrong with you?”
He chuckled. “Sorry hun, you’re not gonna run and tell Gerard your news, that’s just not going to happen.” Seeing her panic, he smiled. “There's nothing to be scared of, baby. This is just a little something to make sure all those silly little ideas of you being your own person are removed. We need the conditioning to take hold of you again, and this little concoction should do just that.”
Lindsey kicked out at him desperately. He responded by grabbing her by the throat, and squeezing.
She struggled against his grip, but could do nothing as he grabbed her by the arm, and then injected the clear liquid into her flesh. She whimpered at the sharp pain from the needle, and stared at him in anguish. He just looked back at her, perfectly calmly.
A few seconds passed as Lindsey continued to fight against not only his hold on her, but also the hold of the drugs now flowing through her system. She fought to hold on to the person she had slowly been becoming.
She lost the battle.
Her struggling slowly ceased and she went limp, all expression gone from her gaze as she sat, waiting patiently for the man before her, her superior, to pass on his instructions.
He released his hold on her neck, and then leaned forward, pulled up her eyelid and stared into her eye.
“Good,” he said, more to himself. “The light's have all gone out again.”
He patted her on her head like he would a pet. She still didn't resist.
“I'm sorry about this, Lindsey;” he told her. “It's nothing personal. Just following orders.”
She didn't respond.
He shrugged. With a jerk of his head, he indicated for her to walk over to him and she stood and moved to his side. She stopped right in front of him, her hands still tied, with her head bowed meekly.
“Draculoid No. 345234,” he barked to her. “Do you know me?”
“Yes Sir,” she replied, at once. “Robert McCracken.”
She was completely subservient to him. And he liked it.
'Gerard's bitch obeying my every whim. Nice.'
He smiled broadly. “Right baby, let’s see what you remember.” He stepped away from her then, allowing her some space. “What is your primary objective?”
“To capture Gerard Way,” came the immediate response.
He nodded. “Yes. And your other objective, once Way was in custody, should it have become a possibility?”
She didn't even blink. “To destroy the remaining Killjoys.”
Bert was satisfied. He leaned forward again, this time to untie her hands. She stayed perfectly still as he did so. Once she was free, he patted her on her shoulder.
“Very good, Drac.” He praised her, with a smirk. “Now, I have updated orders for you.”
She stood to attention. “Yes, Sir.”
His eyes flamed. “I want you to go out there now and kill the Killjoy known as Kobra Kid. Finish the job you started.”
She nodded her understanding of his command. “As you wish, Sir.” She touched her face absently. “My mask? I won't be able to breath-”.
“You'll have long enough to do what you gotta do,” he pointed out.
She merely looked at him blankly.
He regarded her closely then, tilting his head to one side. “I wish there was another way,” he told her, with a regretful sigh. “This doesn't come from me. If it were down to me, I'd be wanting to get to know you a little better, sweetheart.”
He gave her a lingering kiss on the lips then. She didn't return the kiss, but neither did she complain. Why would she? She hadn't been told to resist. She was a Draculoid. She did as she was told.
“Nothing will get him more pumped then his little brother about to be wasted,” Bert drawled into her ear. “He won't want too, but he'll kill you, to protect precious Mikey.” As he mentioned the younger Way by name, his tone was mocking, but then, when his eyes met hers once more, he became more thoughtful. “Really am sorry about this. Seems a waste to me.” He flicked her hair out of her eyes. “But orders are orders. Say, if you do get the chance though, take the miserable little fucker Mikey out with you? The guy just fucks me off.” He grinned evilly. “And it would just break poor old Gerard's heart to lose his baby brother.”
She blinked. “Yes, sir.”
He laughed then, and gave a slight shake of his head. “You're a good girl.” He stepped aside then, leaving her pathway to the door clear. He threw her Company issued ray gun to her, which she caught expertly with one hand. “You'll be needing this,” he told her, and then looked towards the door, waiting for her to make her move.
She remained rooted to the spot, her gaze switching quickly from him, the man she apparently knew had to be obeyed, and the exit. She was hesitating; something deep within her was preventing her from carrying out her instructions.
He frowned impatiently. It seemed Gerard had dug deeper than they had believed.
“Go now,” he ordered, anger in his tone. “Carry out your orders. Do you hear?”
She didn't hesitate again. She rushed to the door and pulled it open, running straight out into the poisonous air, already searching for her prey.
Bert watched her go, his eyes flashing, with a cold, calculating smile on his lips.
'See ya, Lindsey.'
Everything was going exactly according to plan.
Lindsey looked around her. There was a small party of Dracs to one side, firing blast after blast at the Killjoys. The minions had taken cover and were clearly gaining ground on the outnumbered Killjoys. She saw Poison, calling out instructions, his red hair whipping all over the place in the wind. She frowned as she took in the monstrosity of a mask he was wearing.
Him and his originality. It would be the death of him.
But her orders in that moment did not involve Party Poison.
She looked around, saw past Frank who had blasted one Drac off of his feet and her gaze fell on Jet Star, who was trying to get to Frank and finally Kobra Kid, kneeling behind the Trans AM, clearly preparing to unleash another deadly Ray Gun round on the doomed Draculoids.
Lindsey smirked. She would see about that.
With a cry, she launched herself forward. She fired, missing Kobra by inches but forcing him away from the car slightly. Toro was screaming for Mikey but he was inconsequential, too far away to interfere with what she had to do.
With a shout of hate, she threw herself on Mikey, knocking him to the ground. Mikey cried out, yelling for her to get the hell off of him.
She ignored him. She took out her ray gun and held it up for him to see.
He knew he was in real trouble. He couldn't force her off of him and would not be able to reach his own gun before she pulled the trigger.
“Goodbye, Killjoy,” she leered.
Suddenly, she was pushed clear of Mikey, and then picked up and thrown to the ground. She tried to scramble to her feet but her limbs would not obey. She was suddenly so tired. Where was her strength?
A weight was suddenly upon her, pressing her down. And then, a voice came:
“Lindsey, whatever is making you do this, fight it!”
Lindsey knew then. Frank had tackled her.
“Killjoy scum!” She exclaimed.
“What the fuck happened?” He hissed.
She didn't understand.
In the next second, Frank screamed out. He closed his eyes, praying for the pain to leave him the hell alone. But, it was ignoring him. And his headaches were returning with a vengeance.
Shit. Not now.
When it came, the headache showed no mercy, consuming Frank. He could only think about the pain. He cried out, grabbing the side of his head, and squirming uncontrollably.
Lindsey took her chance, and Frank suddenly found himself not only in sudden, unforgiving agony, but also pinned helplessly to the ground.
She was clearly intrigued by his suffering. She held a hand to his forehead and closed her eyes. And then her eyes open again. They grew wide.
“You're going to die,” she announced. She said it with no emotion, she was simply stating a fact.
He shook his head despairingly. “You don't want to do this.”
She placed a finger to his lips. “No. It's already killing you. Nothing to do with me.”
The crater of darkness inside of him was growing wider. He was terrified, and the pain was getting worse. He gasped as she ran the same finger down the side of his head. The ache in his temple was increasing with each passing second.
“You've been marked.” She hissed. “You are going to get sicker. I can save you from that.”
Frank stared up at her, breathing frantically.
“This is a kindness.” Lindsey told him.
She reached over, and scooped up her gun.
“Lindsey-,” Frank muttered.
“You need this.” Lindsey interjected softly, stroking his face. “I'll save you.”
Frank gritted his teeth. “No.”
Lindsey stopped at the sound of the familiar voice. She frowned as she saw Gerard standing a few feet away from her, his mask in one hand, the other grasping his gun, which was currently aiming right at her chest.
“Please sugar, don't make me do this. Just let him go.”
Lindsey's gaze bore into Gerard's. Then, she reverted her eyes to Frank's. She raised the gun and placed it against his temple.
“I'm sorry,” she mouthed.
She smiled. Her finger covered the trigger. Frank closed his eyes as tightly as he could.
Gerard didn't hesitate a moment longer. He fired.
The blast entered her back and tore through her insides, hitting her heart. She opened her mouth into an “oh” shape, and was then falling backwards, away from Frank. Gerard caught her, and lowered her gently to the ground, holding her in his arms.
She lay there, blinking, clearly forcing herself to keep her eyes open. She seemed peaceful.
Finally, her gaze met his.
Gerard grasped her to him ever more tightly. “I'm so sorry,” he moaned.
Lindsey looked up at him, and something passed through her. As if she was truly seeing her for the first time since they had been reunited. She gave him a tiny smile. He smiled back, silent tears cascading down her cheeks. He leaned closer, to let her whisper her last words into his ear.
And then, with one last sigh, she laid still, her eyes still open and staring.
She didn't blink, or move again. She was so still, like a doll.
Gerard shook her. She didn't respond. Gerard tried again, this time more urgently.
Gerard let out a low whimper. The sound cut through Frank like a knife.
He cleared his throat. “She's gone, love...”
Frank placed a hand on Gerard's shoulder. Gerard brushed it away. Mikey and Ray were standing to one side, Ray holding Mikey, stopping him from rushing to Gerard's side. Gerard looked past Mikey, to gaze over at Bert, who was pinning an injured Scarecrow to the sandy ground. It was the only one living; the rest had been dealt with. It could give him answers. Before Frank could stop him, Gerard was laying Lindsey down carefully on the ground, and then was up and heading over to Bert and his prisoner.
Frank knew why. Someone was about to pay. Why not the poor unfortunate Scarecrow?
“I'm sorry,” Bert said quietly.
Gerard didn't reply. He was staring down at the enemy at his feet.
“He'll have a communication device in both of his eye lenses,” Bert told Gerard quietly, indicating the Crow. “They'll be able to see you right now. It's how Control stay in constant communication with their Scarecrows.”
Gerard nodded his understanding. He was stood over the Scarecrow, his gun raised. The man could only smirk back at him.
“Can she hear me?” Gerard snapped.
The 'Crow glared up at him stubbornly. It didn't answer.
Gerard shrugged. He fired, hitting the 'Crow on his shoulder. The Crow hissed in pain. Gerard knelt down beside his enemy, and grabbed him by his now wounded limb, and tightening his hold.
The Scarecrow writhed in agony.
“I asked you,” Gerard repeated. “Can she hear me?”
“Damn you,” the 'Crow snarled. “Filthy rebel.”
Party Poison smiled. And then shot the BL/I employee on his opposite shoulder.
The man howled. He tried to crawl backwards, desperate to get away from the crazed Killjoy.
Party raised his gun again, this time aiming at the man's groin.
“Yes!” He cried out, no longer able to handle the searing pain. “She can hear you.”
“Thank you,” Poison said, politely. “And see me?”
The Crow nodded, though clenched teeth.
“Good,” Party whispered.
He leaned closer, so he was positioned over the captured man, staring into his eyes. Gerard was very aware he was in fact addressing the Co-ordinator.
“I want you to listen to me, you fucking cowardly bitch. You want me? Then you come and get me. I don't want you to go through people I love any more, or to have you send any other lackeys. Why don't you come and get me? If it's me you want, I'm right here. Bring it on.”
And then, without any hesitation and with a frightening calm, Party Poison pointed his ray gun at the Crow's right eye. The man had only a second to gasp in horror, before Poison fired. The blast ripped through the man's eye and tore straight into his brain. He was dead in an instant.
Poison showed no mercy, or respect for the life he had just taken. Instead, he raised the gun once more, and blasted the man's left eye away as well.
“Can't see me now,” Poison whispered.
In the city, a long way away from the Zone, the woman was watching the now blank screen, her eyes narrowed in hatred. The arrogant rebel. She wanted him dealt with.
The woman addressed one of the masked men sat down in front of her.
“Has Korse left the city?” The Co-ordinator barked.
“Yes, ma'am.” The servant replied. “He is heading towards Zone Two as we speak.”
She paused, her face hard. “Tell him to hurry.”
Gerard was standing very still, panting, staring down at the dead, and bloodied eyes staring back at him. Gerard wanted to close those eyes once and for all, so he began to kick the Crow in the face hard. And he kept kicking. He cried out in his fury and he kicked the dead drone over, and over again.
He just wanted it gone. He didn't want to look into that empty, red abyss any more.
Bert didn't try to stop Gerard; he just stood back and watched him as he proceeded to ferociously attack the body lying at his feet.
“Gerard!” Frank was suddenly beside him, pulling him away from the dead Drac he was still viciously kicking. Try as he might, he couldn't force Gerard away. He was like a man possessed, just desperate to cause as much pain as possible to the figure at his feet. Frank understood, of course he did, this was about Gerard releasing all of his grief, guilt, anger and despair and if that meant kicking the shit out of some unfortunate Scare Crow, then so be it.
Only, Gerard was starting to breath less easily now, and he was stumbling. He was still weak from his own ordeal, and this frenzied attack was going to cause him more damage.
“Gee,” Frank tried again. “You have to stop.”
Gerard didn't even pause.
“Gerard!” Frank yelled, grabbing his lover by the arm and pulling him away.
Gerard let out a furious cry of pure, guttural agony and hit out at the person he believed was trying to manhandle him. His wayward punch caught Frank square in the face and Frank fell to one knee from the force of the blow. Gerard was on him at once, breathing hard, snarling insults.
There were cries from afar now. Someone yelling at him to stop. Gerard ignored them.
He landed another punch, and then a third, and then balled his hand into a tight fist, ready to pummel the bastard who had dared get in his way...
“Gee,” Frank whimpered. “Please...”
Gerard stopped, gasping for breath. His eyes widened as the red mist that had descended slowly cleared and he saw, for the first time, whom he had just been about to beat to death.
“Frankie,” he moaned. “Oh God, Frankie-”
And he let out a wail of anguish and fell to his knees, his hands covering his face. Frank got painfully to his feet; ignoring the agony he was in. He wrapped his arms around his lover and held him tight, kissing his head, and giving Gerard all the comfort he could. Gerard clung to Frank, his head buried into the other man's chest as he continued to sob uncontrollably.
Frank just held him as Gerard finally let it all out, the pain of losing Lindsey, plus all the fear, despair and agony he had kept pent up since the moment Korse had walked into that store room.
After weeks of forcing himself to be strong, Gerard finally crumbled, and he did it in the arms of the one he loved the most.
Frank looked over his lover's head, to see how the others were dealing with the loss, lost in their own despair. Mikey was on his knees beside Lindsey's body, weeping softly. Ray was stood behind him, one hand covering his face, the other clamped on Mikey's shoulder.
Just for a second, as he looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened, Frank's eyes met Bert's. As he watched him, Bert gave Frank a sneaky wink. Frank stared back, wide eyed, not quite believing what he had seen Bert do. It happened so quickly, Frank wondered if he had imagined it.
But no, it was real. Bert had winked at Frank. While they had all been grieving, Bert had been amused.
Amused, and had decided to share his amusement with Frank.
Frank forced himself to look away. Shaking uncontrollably as he tried to offer comfort to the sobbing man in his arms, his entire being threatening to explode with grief, hate and rage.
And what had Lindsey meant? Why had she called him a dead man?
Frank put that thought to one side. He couldn’t deal with that at that moment.
Because Frank knew. In that instant, there was no longer any smidgens of doubt.
It was all down to Bert. He had betrayed them. He had fucked with his head, turned Lindsey against then and had betrayed Gerard.
Frank didn't know why. Or how.
He didn't really care. Because Frank knew only one thing for definite:
Bert was going to be the dead man.