jomel10 (jomel10) wrote,

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Fic - Killjoys. Burning Star. Chapter 21/? Rating NC-17

Title: Burning Star
Fandom: Killjoys!Verse
Chapter: 21/?
Rating: NC-17
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: Hi again all, hope everyone is okay :) Gerard has gone yellow, you know. Ha ha, course you all know! What do we think? I love him for him, so not too bothered about his hair colour choice, though I am hoping for a return to black, or red, eventually! Hope you like this chapter. There's attempted rape in this one, just to warn you, and some violence and LOTS of swearing but nothing unexpected for this story! Can I just say a quick thanks to everyone on Twitter who has commented on my story? You guys are the best :D Special mentions to @dvbn66 and @MCRmy_Houston for all their support! And Special thanks to Ariette for all her support, advice and encouragement and for checking this through for me. You're amazing hun.

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, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty

Burning Star

Chapter Twenty-One

All Gerard could hear was the sound of his own breathing, raspy and painful, as he stared at Billie Joe in disbelief. What had the man just said? What the fuck was this?

“You can't just-” Gerard began, speaking softly, trying to remain calm. He fixed Billie with a disbelieving stare. “What are you talking about?”

Billie's gestured theatrically. “I don't know, Gerard, what do you think I mean?” He rolled his eyes. “It means that those headaches are killing Frank.” He shook his head furiously, slamming his hand into his forehead. “He has a little chip stuck in his fucking head and that chip is going to give him a brain haemorrhage, which is going to kill him. Am I making any fucking sense now? Do you fucking follow me now?

Gerard looked toward Mikey and Ray for some support but there was none forthcoming. They were simply staring at Billie in horrified silence.

What the fuck had happened? Where had Billie Joe even come from? Gerard had always hero-worshipped the guy, they all had. He was not only a major part of why My Chemical Romance had existed, he was also the reason any of them were still alive. He had come to Gerard, had warned him and told him to run. And Gerard had been running ever since.

But now Billie Joe was staring at Gerard with distrust and dislike, and it was hurting Gerard more than he would ever admit. He had been so thrown by what had happened with Frank; so confused and wounded that the man he had trusted above all others had hidden something so important from him. But this he had not expected. This he simply would not, could not, believe.

Frank couldn't be dying. Frank was indestructible.

Gerard couldn't stop himself from trembling. He could feel everyone's gaze in the room locked squarely on him, waiting for him to make a move, to say something. What could he say? What the fuck did they want from him?

Death Defying broke the long, horrible silence.

“We need to find Frank. Billie, where is he?”

Billie's condemning stare was still boring into Gerard. A crazed glint in his eye, the Green Day singer looked like he was getting ready to attack the other man again, and this time, he would keep punching. Finally, he turned his attention to their leader.

“He's at the hospital.”

The Doc nodded. “Good. Who is he with?”

“I asked Gareth and Luka to take him there, to find him a doctor, and then come and fetch me.” He shot a sideways glance to Gerard. “I just hope we're not too late.”

Gerard looked up at that. He glowered at Billie.

“Or, maybe you've made a mistake.”

Billie took a step toward Gerard. Before he could reach him though, Bert was in Billie's face once more.

“Why don't you take a deep breath before you give yourself a stroke, pal?”

“Bert,” the Doc spoke up. “Leave it.” He looked the former Used front man up and down. “Perhaps you and I should-”

Bert rounded on Death Defying. “He's the one who needs to watch his fucking mouth, not me! He doesn't know-”

“I don't know?” Billie repeated, with a pretence of calm. “What don't I fucking know, Bert?”

Bert shrugged.

Billie snapped, his temper finally getting the better of him. “I asked you a fucking question! What don't I know?” Bert still said nothing, and Billie's voice went up an octave. “If you're trying to fucking say that I don't know what it's like to fucking watch the man I love die, well, guess what, ass-wipe?” He paused, his eyes wide in anger, as he jabbed furiously in Bert's direction. “Yes, I fucking do.”

His cold words were snarled with such hate, venom, and most of all, pure agony; that Gerard found he could no longer look at the smaller man.

Bert glowered at Billie, but, thankfully, didn't reply.

Death Defying cleared his throat. “Billie-”

“Tre was captured;” Billie continued, ignoring the doctor's attempted interjection. “An Exterminator was waiting for us while we were on a mission. They were looking for me but Tre-” He broke off, looking away. “Tre shoved past me, he went mad, killed half a dozen of the bastards single-handedly before he was over powered. I tried to help him and they caught me too, and made me kneel and watch as they injected him with a shooter gun.”

Gerard winced. He wanted to block out Billie's words. He didn't need to hear this.

Billie kept talking. No one interrupted him.

“The Exterminator, I hadn't seen him before. He wasn't like Korse, that bastard is loud and proud. This fucker chose to hide behind a mask and they spoke through a distorter. I was the one the bastard wanted, I knew that, and I told 'him' to leave Tre alone and deal with me instead. But he just laughed. Then, Tre started to scream. The crippling headaches he was getting, they just took over. I've never seen anybody in so much pain, he was fucking terrified.”

Mikey had his head in his hands. Ray had one hand on the younger man's arm, his eyes locked on the ground. Even Bert's customary smirk had disappeared. Everyone's attention was firmly on the tortured man, as he faced the memories that had haunted him for months.

Billie let out a shaky breath before continuing. “Mike arrived on the scene then, with the Doc, Pony and a team of rebels. The Exterminator turned and fucking ran. Fucking coward. I tried to go after him but he was too fast. And then I heard Mike screaming my name.” His eyes met Gerard's. “I got back to Tre just in time. He suffered a massive brain haemorrhage there and then, and within seconds, he was gone. He died in my arms.”

He finished, wiping angrily at the tears streaming down his face with the back of his hand.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say.

Finally, Gerard cleared his throat.

“I'm sorry,” he offered. “I'm so sorry, Billie.”

“Yeah,” came the rushed reply. “I can't bring Tre back. And I'll never know who that fucking Exterminator was, so I’ll never get to rip his throat out with my teeth for what he did. But, I can help you save Frank. If you want to.”

Gerard reacted to the last sly dig.

“How could you think I don’t-”

Billie was suddenly standing right in Gerard's face. Gerard shivered, those huge, staring eyes were filled with rage and hate. He seemed to be looking right into Gerard, sizing him up. With no further warning, Billie moved, as fast and light as a cat, taking them all by surprise. He grabbed Gerard by the throat, pushed him against the wall behind him, and then actually began to squeeze, so lost in his grief and fury.

Mikey and Ray reacted at once, rushing to help Gerard, and to force Billie away. But Billie refused to budge.

“Don't you see yet, Gerard?” He spat. “Do you get how important each day is? Do you get what you could lose, you fucking idiot?”

Ray grabbed hold of Billie around his middle, picked him up and literally threw him away from Gerard. He and Mikey then moved between their leader and the furious Billie Joe, and Ray held up a hand in warning.

“Back off, Billie. For fucks sake. Don’t make this worse.”

Bille seemed to listen. Taking a moment to contain himself, he pointed a trembling finger at Gerard.

And then, he screamed into the other man's face.

“What are you gonna do about this, GERARD FUCKING WAY?”

The red head recoiled from the other man's anger, and closed his eyes tightly, trying to think. He brought a weary hand up to his forehead. “It's just headaches,” he said, so softly, so desperately, trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “He should have told me about them, what Korse did.” He looked at Billie then, tears threatening to distort his vision. “He didn't tell me and Korse was listening to everything we said and did. They got to Frank-”

“Yes,” Billie snarled. “They did. And you will lose him to them if you don't wake the fuck up.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Take it from someone who fucking knows how it feels to lose the one you love the most to these fucking BL/I bastards.” He paused then, lowering his voice. “Don’t make the mistakes I did. You’ll regret them forever if you do.”

“I really think we all need a time out.” Bert was at Gerard's side again then, a protective arm slung over his shoulder. He was glaring daggers at Billie. “Gerard needs one anyway.”

“And what about Frank?” Ray chimed in. “If Billie is right-”

“I am right,” Billie snapped. He regarded Bert, not even bothering to hide his disdain. “And I'm not the only one who knows it, am I?”

Bert tightened his hold on Gerard.

Mikey stepped forward. He found himself disliking Bert's stance more with every passing second. The man couldn’t seem to care less about Tre, or Billie’s pain. His attention was focused solely on Gerard, and that just wasn’t right. Not given the circumstances. It seemed to abruptly dawn on Mikey that the “supportive” arm holding on to his brother was more possessive than protective.

He cleared his throat.

“Frank was injected days ago. How come he's-” He looked down, unable to finish the sentence.

“Because of those pills he's been taking.” Billie replied.

Ray blinked. “How did he come across those things again?”

Bert shrugged. “Korse must have given them to him.”

Mikey stared. “Korse gave him the drugs?” He raised an eyebrow. “Was that before or after Frank killed him, Bert?”

“Okay, he must have taken the pills from Korse then! Maybe he searched the body.”

Mikey crossed his arms over his chest. “And why would he have taken anything? Did he think, just in case I get headaches, I'll take some BL/I shit that will probably fuck me up completely?”

“Mikey,” Gerard spoke up. “That's enough. We don't know where the pills came from. Lets leave it at that.” Something unreadable quickly flashed across his face. “For now.”

Bert gave him an angry glance.

Billie cleared his throat. “Those pills might just have saved him. We have to get Frank into surgery, find that chip and get the fucker out.”

Mikey looked up, suddenly hopeful but nervous. “You can do that?”

Billie nodded, pushing a hand through his hair. “We learned a lot from what they did to Tre. We can try.” He glanced down. “That's all we can do.”

At that moment, a young man rushed into the room, taking them all by surprise.


Billie was up and over to the newcomer at once.

“Gareth. How's Frank?”

“He's okay. He's at the Medi Centre now with Luka and some doctors. He came across your guitar that you keep in there. Totally perked up when he saw it.”

The singer smiled. “Good.”

Gareth was staring in awe at the three Killjoys, barely concealing his excitement.

“It's great to meet you guys,” he said. “You're legends where I'm from.”

Ray nodded politely, and shook the young man's hand.

“Can you take us to Frank, please?”

Gareth beamed. “Sure.”

He moved to the door, and waited.

Death Defying let out a big sigh. “You guys go on without me. I'll meet you there. Gareth and Show Pony know the way.”

Billie nodded his understanding, and then looked toward Gerard.

“After you.”

Gerard hesitated.

Billie scowled at him. “What?”

The red head glanced away. “Frank will be so scared. He hates hospitals.”

The former Green Day singer's expression actually softened. “Then, let's get over there and give him some support, yeah? It's the least you can fucking do.”

Gerard nodded. He gestured for Mikey and Ray to follow Gareth, and then he looked toward Bert.

“You go on ahead,” he told him, but didn't look directly at him. Bert paused, apparently unsure, and then headed off after Ray and Mikey.

Gerard said nothing as he followed the others, with Billie Joe right behind him.


They arrived at the medi centre a few minutes later. Gerard had stayed to the back, scared at what Frank’s reaction would be when he saw him. He knew he owed Frank an apology, knew he had to make a lot of shit up to him. He could only pray to God that he would get the opportunity.

As soon as they got to the make shift hospital though, they knew something was badly wrong. It was too quiet. Frighteningly quiet.

Billie ran through the entrance, calling for Luka, and then for Frank. And then, they all heard his furious yell of; “What the fuck?” That made them all run in panic. They all rushed in to be greeted with the worse sight possible. The place was like a mess, and there had clearly been a fight, and very recently. They walked through another doorway to find three men lying on the ground, and one locked in a third room, banging desperately on the door. Worst of all, Frank was nowhere to be seen. Gareth ran to his friend Luka's side, and helped him up.

Billie was checking all the doctors pulses one after another, his grim face showing just how bad this situation was. “They're just stunned,” he reported. “They'll be fine.”

Luka moaned, coming round, and Billie was by his side at once.

“What happened?” He urged.

The young man grimaced. “Frank happened.”

Bert snorted. Mikey swung round, and gave him a filthy look.

Ray edged closer. “Frank did this?”

“Yeah,” Luka confirmed. “He was scared, and when the doctors started discussing his symptoms, and the treatment he needed, he panicked.”

Gerard sighed. “He can't stand people talking about him, not to him.”

Luka gaped at Gerard. “Stare later,” Billie snapped. “Talk now.”

“Sorry,” the boy apologised. “Frank was demanding answers, but we didn’t think it was our place to tell him. The Docs tried to calm him down, tried to give him sedative, but he just he went mad. I think he thought we were gonna hurt him. He grabbed my gun off of me, stunned two of the doctors with it, and locked the third in the operating room. He then knocked me out. When I woke up, he was gone. He must have run.” He cast his eyes down to the floor. “I'm sorry, Billie.”

“I don't fucking believe this!” Billie erupted. “What the fuck did you let him run for? You knew he was marked, and you knew what it meant-”

“We didn't exactly let him,” Luka cut in. “He is a Killjoy. He's the best.”

Mikey felt a glow of pride. He opened his mouth, ready to voice his approval, but someone spoke before he could.

“Yes, he is.”

Mikey turned, to see Gerard eyeing him, a small smile on his lips. The two brothers exchanged a knowing look. They would get to Frank. They had to.

Billie, meanwhile, was still fuming. “How long ago did this happen?”

One of the Doctor's stepped forward, rubbing at the back of his head. “Not long. Five minutes.”

Billie nodded. “Okay-”

The doctor raised a hand. “There's something else, Billie. I had taken the Better Living tablets from him to run checks, to see what exactly they were, and he left here without them...”

Billie paled. He knew what that meant. Frank's chances had just significantly lessened and they had even less time to get to him.

He gave himself a small shake. “Right, he can't have got far, we have to find him, do you hear me? Five minutes could make all the difference. We'll find him. Now, I want all of you to get out there and-”

Billie froze, suddenly stopping mid flow. Something had caught his gaze, and he looked horrified. Show Pony glanced at him impatiently.

“What?” He enquired.

“The little shit!

Mikey blinked. He looked at the spot where Billie was staring, but there was nothing there.

“Billie, what-”


Mikey felt the almost impossible desire to laugh. He closed his eyes quickly. When he opened them again, Billie was doing his best to compose himself.

“I swear to God, if he harms one string on that guitar, I'll kill him!”

Silence fell. The discomfort they all suddenly felt was horrendous. Billie went red, and quickly looked toward the door.

“We'll find him,” he repeated, with utter conviction. Then, to Show Pony, he added; “Lets go.”

With that, Show Pony and Billie ran on ahead, already instructing each other to organise search parties and then inform Death Defying. The Doctors, Gareth and Luka filed out after them. Mikey and Ray went to rush out too, but stopped when they saw that Gerard had sat down on one of the plastic seats, his hands covering his face.

Mikey, looking decidedly unimpressed, went to his brother, and leaned over him.

“Gee, we have to go now.”

Gerard didn't respond.

Mikey frowned. “Gee?”

“What have I done?” His brother whispered, in a tiny voice.

“You didn't know.” Bert purred, pushing Gerard's hair out of his eyes.

“I should have believed him! What the fuck have I done? How can I face him?”

“He loves you,” Ray interjected. “Always has done. He'll forgive you the second he sees you, and you know it. Don't let him down again, Gerard.”

The red head whimpered.

“Come on, Gee,” Mikey pleaded. “Come with us.”

“I can't.”

Ray was incredulous. “Gerard-”

“I said, I can't, Ray! Don't push it!”

“Billie was right,” Ray hissed. “You aren't the man you were.”

Gerard clenched his fists.

Bert coughed, breaking the tension, and then nodded toward the door. “Mikey, Ray? You two should go help in the search.”

Ray frowned, and then considered. Finally, he nodded. “Some of us should help look, you're right, Bert.” He threw a furious look at Gerard. “Or all of us, even. Meet you outside, Mikes. I can't be in here any more.”

With that, he stormed out. Mikey stared after him, devastated.

“Go on, Mikey.” Bert said, after a beat.

Mikey pursed his lips together. “I should stay with Gerard.”

“I'll keep an eye on him,” Bert replied, with a smile. “Don't worry.”

Mikey glanced at the doorway, unsure what to do. The one thing he really didn't want to happen was for Bert to be left alone with Gerard.

“Go on, Mikey.” Gerard urged. “It's fine. I just need a second to sort my head out, then I'll come after you and Ray.”

Mikey gave his brother one last look, and then left the room, calling out for Ray to wait for him.

Once they were alone, Bert reached out, and took Gerard's hand. “You mustn't blame yourself, you know. How were you supposed to know? Billie was out of fucking order with what he said.”

Gerard grimaced. “He wasn't, Bert. He was right. I was so angry, I didn't think. I couldn't think. I just wanted to hurt Frank, because I was in so much pain myself.”

“That's not a fucking surprise!” Bert exclaimed. “After what you went through, you need those closest to you to be honest. Frank let you down. He let you all down.”

Very slowly, Gerard raised his head, and stared at Bert. The look on his face seemed to make Bert uncomfortable, and he let go of Gerard's hand.

“He didn't let me down,” Gerard announced. There was a warning to his tone. He didn't want Bert to bad mouth Frank again. “I let him down. I should have been there for him, he should have been able to tell me anything. Not just as his leader, but also his lover.”

“Well,” Bert snapped. “That's all over now, anyway.”

Gerard blinked. “Why?”

Bert actually scoffed. “You turned your back on him!”

Gerard gritted his teeth. “I can make it up to him.”

“You might not have too long.”

Gerard froze. His gaze met Bert's, and Bert knew he's gone too far.

“He's not going to fucking die!” Gerard spat. He gestured angrily. “What the fuck am I even sitting here for? What good will that do?”

Bert said nothing. His face was blank.

Gerard shook his head, clearing the last of the cobwebs away, and then got to his feet, ready to go after the others, and join the search.


Bert's hands were suddenly on him, pulling him back down, preventing him from leaving.

“Bert,” Gerard managed. “What are you doing?”

“I need you, Gee;” Bert slurred in his ear. “I need you right now. And you want it too. I know you do. Just go with it.”

“No! Bert, I-”

His protesting was cut off as Bert gripped Gerard's face, holding him in place, then leant into him, pressing his lips to Gerard's, and giving him a wet, sloppy kiss.

Gerard moaned, wriggled and fought against Bert's hold on him, finally forcing the other man away. He then punched Bert in the eye, and Bert gasped in surprise, bringing a stunned hand up to his sore cheek, glaring evilly at Gerard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growled.

Gerard's eyes widened. “Wrong with me? What's wrong with you?

“I want you!”

“Well, I don't want you! Not then, not now, not ever!”

Bert was incensed. “Why the hell not?”

“You actually HAVE to ask me-” He shook his head in amazement. “I don't have time for this.”

Bert grabbed his wrist, only for Gerard to shake him off.

“You don't have fucking time for me, Gerard? Nothing new there! You owe me!”

Gerard stared at Bert breathlessly, not quite believing what he was hearing. “I'm just gonna go,” he told the other man wearily, deciding his best option was to flee. He suddenly wanted to be as far away from his old friend as possible. “I have to find the others.”

He then went to walk around Bert, aiming for the door just beyond him, and freedom.

Bert had other ideas.

“Where the fuck do you think you're going?!”

He grabbed Gerard by the hair, dragging him away from the exit, and safety, and forcing him back against the wall. Gerard struggled, staring up at Bert with surprise and fear. Bert leaned in closer, and snarled in Gerard's ear.

“You fucked that traitor Iero like a whore, but you tell me no?” He chuckled. “I don't fucking think so.”

He smacked Gerard's head against the wall, not hard enough to knock him out, but viciously enough to leave the other man dazed. Gerard offered no further resistance as Bert pinned him against the wall, thrusting his hips up against the other man. He kissed his neck, and then sucked. Gerard could only cringe as he felt Bert's breath.

“Stop,” Gerard moaned. “Bert, don't do this to me. Not after what-" He cried out in despair as Bert groped him through his clothes. He could only whimper his distress. He was going to be raped again. Only this time, by someone he had trusted. Bert was right; he was a slut.

"Please..." He pleaded.

“Shut up,” Bert breathed. “I've earned this.”

Keeping Gerard trapped in place, Bert's hands quickly moved to the other man's belt.

“Hey!” The voice came from nowhere. “Get the fuck off of him!”

Suddenly, Bert was being dragged off of Gerard, and he swore in frustration. He rounded on the newcomers, only to come face to face with a furious Ray. Bert raised his fist, ready to fight, but then thought better of it. He glanced over a Gerard, and actually had the decency to feel nervous when he saw the state of the other man.

Gerard was leaning against the wall, Mikey at his side, as he fought to catch his breath. He was bleeding slightly from a wound on the side of his head, and he was trembling all over. Gerard was staring at Bert, as if he was only truly seeing him for the first time.

Ray had hold of Bert by his shoulders, and he was shaking him.

“What the fuck were you doing?” He demanded. “How could you touch him? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Bert glared daggers at Ray and then gestured angrily at Gerard.

“You've got it all wrong! He came on to me!”

The red head looked up, blinked, and stared at Bert. “What did you say?”

Bert hesitated.

Gerard shook his head, mouth hanging open. Very softly, he added; “You fucking liar. Never in a million fucking years would I ever want you, McCracken!”

And then, with a yell of fury, he launched himself at Bert, ignoring the pain this caused, pain coursing through his abused body in waves. He took no notice of the fact that he was still significantly weaker due to the ordeals he had faced. He didn't even notice Ray and Mikey both rushing to grab him, to restrain him as he tried to get to Bert. He had never felt so angry. Anger that he actually felt mainly for himself.

Because he knew. He had been so fucking stupid. “You piece of shit. What else have you lied about?”

Bert scoffed. “Nothing!”

Gerard clenched his fists. “Did you lie about Frank?”

Something flashed across Bert's face. It was there for only a second, but it was long enough for Gerard to see.

It was amusement.

Mikey and Ray saw it too. They stared at Bert, shock and anger now radiating from them too. They abruptly released Gerard, who was now breathing hard, containing his temper and keeping it at bay.

“I was right about you,” Mikey snarled. “The whole fucking time!”

Bert smirked.

Gerard edged closer.

“I'll ask you once more, Bert;” the Killjoy said, clearly and slowly, holding a hand out to restrain Mikey. “And you had better tell me the fucking truth.” His gaze met Bert's. “Did you give Frankie those pills?”

Bert hesitated. That was all it took, that was all the confirmation Gerard needed. And, in that second, he knew.

As the realisation hit Gerard square in the eyes, so did the horror of what that epiphany actually meant.

“Oh my fucking God,” he breathed. “I have to find Frank.”

Bert took a step toward Gerard, who raised a hand, bringing Bert to a sudden halt, forcing him to keep his distance. “Gee,” Bert pleaded softly. “Please listen to me. I did it for you. I wanted you to give me a shot to make what happened before up to you. I wanted you to trust me-”

Gerard laughed coldly. His eyes flashed dangerously. “Good job,” he told Bert.

Bert swallowed, and then tried again. “I didn't want to hurt you, I swear. I just wanted to be close to you after everything I saw. I fucking care so much about you. I knew you wouldn't give me a fucking chance to prove to you that I'd changed unless-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Gerard pointed at Bert, his eyes flaming. “I don't want to hear another fucking word from you. You're out, Bert. Do you hear me? You stay the fuck away from me. And I don't want see you ever again after today.”

Bert shrugged. “I'll do as I want.”

“Yeah, as long as it’s nothing to do with us,” Mikey cut in. “I can't believe I gave you another fucking chance...”

“Enough, Mikey. He's not worth it.” Ray threw in, staring at Bert in disgust.

Gerard jerked his head. “We need to think about Frank now. He's what matters.”

The others nodded, understanding. It was time to leave Bert, and the whole sorry mess, behind.

As Ray and Mikey filed out quickly, their worry was evident on both of their faces. There was a determination about them too. They would find Frank, and they would put this right.

Whatever it took.

Gerard stopped at the doorway, his eyes locked on Bert's. “You keep away from me,” he told him. It wasn't a request. “I want you away from here. Away from me, Mikey, and Ray. And once we've found Frank, I swear to God that if you go anywhere near him, I'll kill you.”

Bert trembled slightly, and narrowed his eyes. “Think you'll find him, do you?”

Gerard gazed at him, realisation suddenly dawning on him as he looked Bert up and down. “Yeah, I do. And, I'll save his life. You just watch me.”

Then, he walked out, slamming the door behind him, shutting Bert out.

Bert watched them go, and glared evilly as he wiped at the blood still spilling from his cut lip. He went to stand, and then froze, staring into space.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “He's not as weak as I expected.”

He waited for the reply, grimacing.

“The brother is not-” He argued, with the voice only he could hear.

Another beat, as his hand went up to cup his ear, and he scrunched up his eyes, as if in pain.

“I understand that-”

He reacted, his eyes widening in excitement.

“Yes, it does make sense. A change of target would certainly seem a viable option.”

Another pause.

“Where?” He breathed. “Where is he?”

He listened, and then, he chuckled.

“Oh yes ma'am,” he whispered. “That would be my pleasure.”

And then, softly, and cruelly, Bert laughed.


Frank was alone again. He was sat up on a small wall, swinging his legs, Billie's prized guitar grasped in his hands, and he was gently strumming it. He didn't know why he had grabbed it, and was aware that he had in fact stolen something, stolen from Billie Joe Armstrong, of all people, but in that second, he had been unable to resist it. As he sat there, his thoughts returned to what he had done in that Medi Centre, to people who had only had his best interests at heart. Why had he panicked so much? Perhaps he hadn't wanted to face up to whatever it was they had to say.

He sighed. Maybe he would find himself regretting the decision to run, he certainly didn't like the fact that he'd hurt men who had only wanted to help him, but he couldn't help himself. He had gathered by not only what Billie Joe had told him, but also the comments made by the doctors, discussing him as if he hadn't been in the room, ignoring any questions or comments he made. He had felt like nothing but a nuisance and he had been unable to stand it for a second longer. So, his headaches were getting worse but they were his headaches! He'd dealt with them for long enough on his own, why should others, people he didn't even know, decide to involve themselves now?

He moved, leaning the guitar against the wall, and then rubbed his hands together, not because he was cold obviously, but just to give himself some comfort. There was no one, no one to smile at him, hold him or tell him everything would be alright. God, he missed Mikey and Ray. And he missed Gerard, more than he could ever believe. Even if Gerard yelled at him, or ignored him, he'd take that. He just wanted to see the man he loved again. Especially if his suspicions were correct, and his time was nearly done.

He closed his eyes tightly. He was not stupid. He knew what was happening, knew what the worsening headaches meant. This was serious, deadly serious. There was no running away from the truth: He knew he was going to die. Every sympathetic glance that Gareth, Luka and those doctors had sent his way had confirmed it for him. They had told him they could help him, that he would be okay, but he hadn't believed them. But, if he was going to die, then he didn't want to die like that, being tested on like a guinea pig, for no reason. It was not going to end like that for him. He would die fighting, die trying. That's the man he was, the man he had always been.

And he wanted his best friends at his side.

Whether they wanted him there or not, he belonged with them. Running was not the answer, he knew that. He would not die alone.

He had made up his mind. He would be with Gerard at the end. He turned, and slowly, and with some discomfort, went to jump off of his perch, already planning to return to the base as quickly as he could, find Gerard and make him see reason. As he went to move, however, the nerves got the better of him once more, and he paused.

Why would Gerard listen to him? He hadn't before. What would have changed? Because he was ill? Because Frank was sick, and Gerard would feel sorry for him? Is that what Frank wanted? Gerard's sympathy? His pity? No, he didn't.

He couldn't go back there expecting Gerard to welcome him back with open arms, but he couldn't stand to be rejected again. Not in front of Billie, and the Doc. And he couldn't face seeing Bert's smirking face again, taunting him.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up the guitar once more, gazing down at it, almost sorrowfully. As he held it in his hands once more, he was taken back again, back to a happy time, far away from all the fear and distrust he felt now.

Trying to keep his emotions in check, he began to play the instrument, a melody coming to him, from so many years ago, and lyrics that grabbed his soul and squeezed, his heart breaking as he softy sang, and saw Gerard in his minds eye, singing those same words, and smiling at him, with so much love and contentment, love he would never see, or feel, from the man he adored ever again.

“Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets”

He closed his eyes tightly, and sang on, fighting back the tears.

“I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there's nothing left to do
But prove myself to you and we'll keep it running”

He was lost now, lost in the music, his memories, his love and his pain for the man he worshipped, the man he knew in his heart he would never get back. Maybe never even see again.

As his emotions took over, he sang louder, and he was away, and he was free, and he was flying. He hardly even noticed the tears that were cascading down his face as he sang on.

“But this time, I mean it
I'll let you know just how much you mean to me
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of everything.”

“How tragic.”

Frank stopped abruptly. It was the taunting, cruel voice that he hoped he would never have to hear again that brought him out of his music induced stupor. He jumped, falling off of the wall, the surprise causing the guitar to drop from his grasp, and crashing to the ground with a bump. He cringed, worried that he had damaged Billie's most loved guitar. He could barely stand to look.

Bert had picked up the guitar and was now looking at the object closely, a lazy smile on his lips.

He then turned and regarded the brunette once more.

“Hey, Frankie,” Bert told him. “You're not looking too good. Better take a tablet.”

Frank closed his eyes. “I left them at the Medi Centre,” he replied, quietly.

“Oh,” Bert said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “That's a shame.”

Frank flicked open his eyes again, trying to focus on the hated face before him. He went to take the guitar off of Bert, but the other man moved it out of his reach.

“Leave me alone, Bert.” Frank sighed.

“Sorry Frank. Can't do that.”

Frank blinked. He brought a weary hand up to his aching forehead. “How did you find me?” He muttered.

“How do you think?” Bert replied, and lightly tapped the side of his head.

Frank stared at him, as his words sunk in. He paled then, and began to back away.

Bert pretended not to notice, his eyes once more on the guitar. “This is Armstrong's, isn't it?”

Frank nodded, trying to concentrate on what was happening. This whole thing was so fucked up.

Bert continued; “I bet he's really worried that it's gone missing.”

And with that, Bert smashed the guitar into the wall, once, twice, and then for a third time. The guitar collapsed under the cruel blows, split wood flying everywhere. Frank could only watch in complete horror as Billie's pride and joy, the guitar Frank had taken without permission, was completely demolished. He made a move toward Bert, but when the other faced him once more, there was such cruelty on his face, so much hate, that Frank thought better of it.

He turned quickly, and hurried away as fast as he were able. He felt the wall as he went, supporting himself. He gritted his teeth when he heard that horrible chuckle, right behind him.

He got the shock of his life, however, when he blundered right into the waiting arms of two Draculoids, who instantly grabbed at him, holding him steady.

Frank cried out, the first and only word that popped into his head:


Suddenly, Bert had hold of him, and was pressing something to his mouth, forcing him to breathe in a drug. Instantly, Frank began to slip away, and the world getting dark, and he was so tired, and he had to close his eyes...

The last thing he heard was Bert's whispered, taunting words in his ear.

“Sorry Frank, he's not here.”

With a triumphant smirk, he allowed the unconscious Killjoy to slip to the ground.

Bert chuckled nastily as he leaned over his defeated foe.

“But if it's any consolation, you were right about me all along.”

Tags: burning star, fic, mcr
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