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Neon Moon
chapter seventeen

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❛ when we were young, we used to say
that you can only hear the music when
your heart begins to break. now we
are the kids from yesterday. ❜
— The Kids From Yesterday, My Chemical Romance

                    ALL HE COULD REMEMBER WAS THE SMELL. It was hot and smokey, and it reminded him of the fourth of July. It was like flipping burgers on a hot grill during the hottest day of the year. That's what Seth always thought he remembered from that night. Not the pained screams of his father, or the way his burning body crawled across the living room floor toward them. Not the way his heart yelled at him to help when his brain, and his brother, told him to leave. Even if he had survived, it wouldn't be a life worth living.

That same smell filled his senses, his hands holding her head firmly between them. His eyes were screwed closed. Marisol stared up at Seth, her fingertips pressed gently to his shoulders. "Seth," she whispered, her voice drowned out by the ringing in their ears. "We've got to go," Kate cried out, grabbing her father by his arm. Jacob watched, amazed at the blast they had barely escaped.

His hands fell from her ears, clutching her neck and her jaw. His body shook furiously, bottom lip trembling, his eyes moving beneath his eyelids. He could hear his father shouting for him. He could hear Richie's voice, his voice begging him to leave with him. Seth, please, he said. Seth, we have to go.

"Seth!" she shouted, taking his face in her hands and giving him a hard shake. His eyes snapped open in surprise, lips parting. "We have to go," she repeated. Her thumb tickled the bloodied skin of his cheek. He nodded, his eyes far away. "Yeah," he exhaled, heart speeding in his chest. Marisol could feel his pulse under her palm.

Kate had ran ahead. Jacob had eventually followed her, with Tanner loitering in the dark corners. "Come on, baby," she whispered, tapping her fingers into his cheeks. "Don't give up now, okay?" He blinked. He attempted to look back, to witness the carnage behind them. Something in his needed to see it, needed to make sure he wasn't back in that house.

In one fluid motion, Marisol stopped him and pressed her mouth against his. Her hands held him tight, her body pressing to his. His hands shook at her shoulders for a short moment before finding their place at her waist. The cut on her lip was rough and it throbbed against his mouth, the taste of blood dancing on his tongue.

Her lips parted just enough for his teeth to graze the surface, her tongue poking out to meet his halfway. A cold breeze blew away the fire burning at his skin the moment their tongues became entangled, her fingers twisting within his short, black hair. Their hearts beat in sync, bodies flush against one another.

For a moment, the horrors around them disappeared. There was no culebras. Seth was not a criminal. They were sixteen again, on her porch, and under the night stars. The past was much prettier than their present.

The clearing of a throat had them pulling away, mouths slick with saliva, and their eyes wide with flurried emotions. "I love a good happy ending as much as the next guy, but, uh, we should probably get going," Tanner said. Marisol was the first to pull away, her head snapping toward the professor waiting for them. She gave him a stern nod, wiping the surprised and dazed expression from her face. "Yeah," she exhaled. "Seth, you okay?"

"Never better," he replied cheekily. He ducked down to pick up the weapon he had dropped, gifting the duo in front of him with a satisfied grin. "Let's get the fuck out of here, shall we?" A smile broadened across her face. With that, the trio followed after a frantically searching Kate. Her voice could still be heard in the echoing hallways.

          Dead end after dead end, they were starting to lose hope. Once they had reunited with the young girl and pastor, Seth resumed his role of head in charge. He lead the way, his palm following the ridges of the walls, his flashlight pointed in the direction ahead of them. Marisol stuck with Kate, following Seth and Tanner with bated breath.

"We went in a big circle?" Seth exclaimed, swinging the beam of his flashlight in both directions. Tanner shook his head. His brows furrowed, eyes following Seth's flashlight like a cat following a laser pointer. "No, no, no. The inscription," he argued. His fingers ran along the divots in the wall. "It's the beginning of the ancient words." Marisol grabbed Seth's hand, moving his flashlight to point toward the wall Tanner was groping.

"It's a reference... to the creation myth in the Popol Vuh." His knees bent, his hands moving further down the stone wall. "Rebirth. Renewal. Rebirth... Renewal." Seth stared at the professor in confusion. He blinked as Tanner took turns, caressing each side of the split stone. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Don't touch things in here, please."

Though Marisol agreed, she shook her head. "Give him a second," she muttered just as he began audibly straining. His groans filled the room along with the sliding of stone. The crack closed little by little, like a puzzle coming back together. When they finally clacked back together, the wall began to rumble and Tanner cried out. Dirt rained over their heads, the ground rumbling and trembling beneath their feet.

"What did you do?" Kate asked, her voice flooded with fear. "Oh, my—"

"What the hell did you do?" Marisol asked. Her eyes were full of worry, and fury. Kate's hand immediately found her wrist to stabilize herself. Tanner didn't have an answer. The room shook for a moment longer before they noticed the stone wall before them moving away. A laugh spilled past Tanner's parted lips like steam from a train engine.

It was slow, creating an extra space for them to follow. The wall moved away to reveal a weaker looking wall. There was a large crack right up the middle. Seth approached it first, brows furrowed, his steps quick. Marisol and Kate stayed back, Tanner taking back his things from their place on the ground. "You see this?" Seth asked, patting down the wall. It seemed loose, like a loose floorboard or a loose screen on a window. He braced his hands at the crack, sucked in a deep breath and began to push the two halves apart.

A cloud of dust exploded in front of him as dirt rained from overhead. "A little help," he sputtered out, the breath held in his lungs exhaling in a flash. Marisol looked to Tanner, the redhaired man staying put. The hole grew little by little with Seth's efforts. When neither man moved forward, she did. She hurried next to Seth, bracing both hands on one half and pulling it away with all of her might.

"They're stairs," he exhaled, giving one final tug on the half he had focused on. "They're stairs," he repeated louder this time. "They go up." He looked toward Marisol, hope flashing within his pretty eyes. She couldn't fight back her smile. "Up is good, right?"

"Up is always good," she replied, her chest feeling light. He exhaled a laugh. "It's better than down," Jacob replied with a mild chuckle. Seth and Marisol glanced toward their small group. "Yeah," Seth exhaled. "Fuckin' "A"."

He was the first to ascend the stairs. Marisol was right on his tail, followed by Kate, Tanner, and Jacob. His hand was close enough for her to take. He was quick, taking the stairs two at a time like a young child running down the stairs toward an awaiting Christmas tree full of presents. There was an escape. They could have found their way out. They could be saved.

With this new revelation, Marisol found herself floating. She hurried up the stairs after Seth, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers. He didn't stop to look at her, or to question the affectionate action. Instead, her tightened his grip on her hand and rushed toward the top of the stairs and to wherever they would take them.

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          Seth Gecko never knew what peace truly was. Even as a child and being loved by a mother as beautiful as she was, he had only ever known chaos. He was a feisty child, an independent child. He took risks no others would take. This typically got him into a lot of trouble with his father, trouble that always ended with thick welts on the back of his thighs from his father's belt.

          It got worse when Richie was born. The moment Seth had laid eyes on his baby brother in the hospital, he knew that he was special. Maybe not in the magical way that kids movies liked to play around with. He wasn't going to be a genius, or have superpowers, or even be this nice kid that wore his heart on his sleeve. He was special, because he was his brother.

          He took his older brother duties pretty seriously. When his mother was busy, Seth was there to make sure Richie didn't get into anything he wasn't supposed to. When Richie was sad, Seth knew just what to do to stop the waterworks and get him to smile that ugly, toothless smile. Seth protected Richie, in more ways than one.

          When their mother died, it was like a bullet had ripped through his chest. It penetrated his lungs and left a gaping hole there that he deemed was irreparable. He was dying out, slowly, along with the river of tears that left his little brother's eyes. He was still a child. They were both still children. They weren't supposed to go through tragedy such as this at such a young age. And yet there they were, standing by her casket with their father's meaty hands holding them still. His breath smelling like alcohol and bile that singed the hairs in their noses.

          He had already been a drunk. Their father had been a notorious one before their sweet mother passed. His father was a drunk, and his father before him. It was a disease they all were susceptible to. However, it changed their father. He was mean, and angry all of the time. His best friend was that same leather belt with the broken clasp, and boy did he love to swing that fucker around like a sprinkler at the fourth of July.

          Richie had started acting out. His pain was too big for his small body to bottle up. He cried, he cursed, and he argued with their father until he couldn't breath and he turned blue in the face. And their father responded the only way he knew how; with a swing of his belt and a string of curses that stung like shards of glass. And Seth would do what he does best. He would jump in front of his little brother and take every lashing, every beating, every broken bottle thrown his way. He was protect his little brother from the horror that their father rained upon them.

          He took on the role of mother. He taught himself to use the microwave, the washing machine, the dryer, and the stove. He learned how to make microwavable eggs and how to keep their close from smelling gross after accidentally being left in the washer over night. He kept Richie entertained and fed, and bathed like a good older brother would do. And he loved him. Even though he had become a huge pain in his ass, he loved him.

          Seth Gecko never knew peace. With a man full of venom and alcohol for blood as his father, was there ever really a chance to get to know that blissful feeling described so prettily in literature and in the movies? He thought there couldn't be, not for someone like him. Not for someone with so much hatred and anger in his heart. There couldn't be.

          However, he was stunned to find that feeling with Marisol. Regardless of how loud she was, and how opinionated she may be, he found himself at peace with her. It could be a short, fleeting moment in the library as she crammed for her test. It could be a night where they shared the same bed, proclaiming their love for one another between cotton sheets. No matter what it was, he found peace. He found peace in her eyes, in her smile, and in her touch.

          He found peace with her, and with his brother. For when it was the three of them, Seth knew nothing nicer. With Marisol, he felt like a complete family again. There was no more pain, no more anger, and no more hatred. He didn't have to protect Richie from his father's violence anymore. They were happy. He was happy. He was at peace...

          If only that peace could have lasted much longer. He'd do anything to have that feeling forever in the palm of his hand. To have them forever by his side.

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Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him. Seth wasn't sure, but he swore he could see a break of light. He ascended the stairs, heart racing, body light with a hope he had not felt in quite some time. There was a door at the very top, whispering out to him. You're free, it said. Open me and you'll be free.

It was cold against his waiting palm. With a sharp intake of breath, Seth forced his weight into the door until it swung free. Neon light filled the space, the cold night air creeping in to the staircase. He felt his breath escape him in a sigh, a smile crawling across his face. "We did it," he exhaled.

He turned to face the girl beside him, yellow light illuminating parts of her face. His smile only seemed to grow. "We made it," he said, bringing her hand up to his face. His nose brushed her knuckles, eyes fluttering closed. "Oh, my God," Kate gasped, grabbing ahold of her father. Marisol's eyes were locked on the man in front of her. He pressed a soft kiss to her broken skin, his warm eyes opening to meet hers. "We did it," she suddenly giggled, using his hand in hers to tug him against her.

The air, though dusty, had never tasted so good. Seth's nose bumped against hers, their chests meeting between them. He could feel her breath against his chin. He didn't kiss her. He held her face, breathing in their shared air, focusing on the pattering of his heart. They were out. They had escaped. "We're going to start over," he whispered.

He threw his arm over her shoulder and turned back to the world outside. Movement surfaced in the corner of his eyes. It was a figure approaching the RV he had hijacked. The figure was slender, tall... It was Richie.

Seth's muscles tightened. His smile dropped from his face. "R-Richie?" he exhaled in astonishment. Marisol felt her blood run cold. Surely enough, standing outside the RV was Richard Gecko. Seth glanced toward the woman in disbelief. "He's still alive."

"No," she whispered. "No, that can't be Richie. Can it?" Despite the happenings from before, she couldn't find it in her to believe that Richie was alive. She had seen the blood seep through his clothes. She had watched Santanico pull him through that small opening. He was dead. He had to be dead. "He looks pretty good for a guy that just got shot," Jacob commented. Suddenly, a second figure joined Richie.

Marisol's jaw tensed. Trailing after the brother was the devil herself. Richie opened the RV door, allowing the brunette to enter the vehicle. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," she muttered angrily, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Seth was speechless. The door to the RV closed noisily behind them. Seth glanced behind him toward Jacob. "What are you waiting for, huh? We're free. Let's get outta here."

"We can't leave without Scott," Kate stated firmly. Tanner glanced toward the young girl with curious eyes. "I'll stay back," he offered. "I can help out." Seth turned toward Marisol. At least one person was with him, he thought. They were starting over. But the water collecting in her eyes made his heart crumple. "You too?" he whispered, voice broken. She sniffed, pushing back the hair that stuck to her face. "Yeah," she croaked out.

"But Richie—"

"Richie needs you," she told him. He sucked in a sharp breath. For the first time in a while, he felt the familiar stinging behind his eyes. "You can go after him, Seth. But I can't follow you." He held his breath, willing the tears building in his eyes and blurring his vision to go away. He couldn't cry. Not right now, not in front of these people. "I need you," he argued. "What if I can't do this without you?"

Something hard was pressed into his palm. Seth glanced down to see his weapon. "You've done it before," she reminded him, her voice gentle. "And this isn't... This isn't goodbye, you know? I'll be back. And we'll start over." He sniffed back the emotions threatening to spill over his cheeks. "You promised, you know. I gotta keep up my end, too."

"You better," he responded, clearing the tension from his throat. He looked back up to meet her eyes. A few tears had broken past the dam and dampened her cheek. "If you die," he began, his voice hardening. She snorted, interrupting his train of thoughts. "Go get our brother, Gecko."

His hands found purchase on her cheeks, his forehead kissing hers in a gentle embrace. They fell silent, their hearts syncing together as one. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips linger a second longer. "I'll be back for you," he whispered. She nodded, wiping the falling tears from her face. "You know, I should have expected this, though. You've always had somewhat of a hero complex."

"I guess so," she laughed. Her laugh made his heart flutter. Finally, he backed out of the door, his eyes locked with hers. Though he was silent, she knew he was making her that very same promise. He would be back. They'd finally start over and take back the life they had deserved to live in the first place.

rumi says . . .
so here we have a chapter in
seth's pov!!! who expected that??

so this chapter has definitely come up
in my top three chapters ever written.
i really, really enjoyed diving deeper into
seth's version of their past and how this
shit had affected him. and now we are
getting closer and closer to the end of
part one!! how exciting is that??

how was the chapter?
what was your favorite part?

i hope you guys enjoyed it!
feedback is seriously appreciated!