Gerard watched the desert landscape flash by as Fun Ghoul drove. This couldn't be real. This had to be some kind of intricate joke. They must have spiked the punch in order to get him out here, wherever here was, and kick start this... Game? Joke? Who knows what they considered it.

Where the hell were they then? They didn't live near a desert. How long had he been out?

"Fr-er-Fun Ghoul?" Gerard tripped over his driver's title. He didn't respond to Frank; whenever Gerard tried the name, Fun Ghoul would insist that the red head had taken a harder hit to the head than expected.

Fun Ghoul turned his head, slightly, but kept his eyes on the road. "What's up, Party?"

Gerard bit the inside of his cheek. The way Frank, or rather, Fun Ghoul spoke to him sent butterflies to a flurry in his stomach. "Where exactly is Kobra Kid at?"

"Fuel station." Fun Ghoul replied as he shifted the car's gears, "Best reception out there, and it's closer to our previous location." As he spoke, he jammed his thumb in the direction they had been coming from.

Gerard nodded, growing quiet. He looked around the interior of the car, feeling amazed at the attention to detail. The dashboard had knifed in initials of Gerard's four main killjoy characters.

F.G.
K.K.
J.S.
P.P.

Gerard had to stifle a giggle at his own character's initials. It always sounded cool until it was brought down to initials.

Moving his eyes up the dash, he caught a glimpse of the road ahead. It was long and dusty. Patches of dirty fog hung in the air, but Fun Ghoul quickly speed through them.

Gerard shifted his gaze to the boy next to him. Fun Ghoul had drawn the bandana that sat around his neck up over his nose and mouth. He was focused on the road ahead with one hand tightly gripping the wheel while the other sat at an angle on the door, hanging out of the open window. His dark hair waved in unpredictable directions with the wind, occasionally whacking the dark sunglasses that covered his eyes. Gerard couldn't help the way his breathing caught in his throat at the sight of him. He had always found Frank attractive, but this just wasn't fair.

"Turn on the radio." Fun Ghoul suddenly spoke, causing Gerard to jolt upright in his seat. "Let's see if we can hear Doctor D."

"Doctor D. Sure thing." Gerard nodded. Fun Ghoul had to be talking about Doctor Death Defying, Gerard's killjoy radio broadcaster. He was the guy in Gerard's made up world that got the latest and breaking news out to any radio that could pick up his signal. Gerard had especially liked writing him because he was based off of no one in particular, unlike most of his characters.

It took Gerard a minute to discover the correct button and knob combo but, after a moment of struggling, a voice shouted through the static.

"Keep an eye open and stay on the alert. This is me, Doctor Death Defying, signing off for the night. Make some noise while I'm gone."

"Shit." Fun Ghoul muttered as he pulled his bandana down from where it covered his nose and mouth, "We just missed him."

"Bummer." Gerard nodded, but he was repeating the message over and over again in his head. How had they found someone that fit the voice that Gerard always imagined for his character? This just kept getting weirder...

"Why are you so quiet, my motor baby?" Fun Ghoul asked, never taking his eyes from the dusty road ahead. "Don't even feel like singing tonight?"

"Singing?" Gerard repeated, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. He enjoyed singing, enough that he had been in choir for all three years of middle school, but it had become more of a side hobby since entering highschool and focusing on his art. Before Frank and Jamia had gotten together, Frank and Gerard would practice their singing together. Frank had stuck with it in highschool, probably helping him in winning the affection of the girl he intended to marry.

Gerard's heart dropped once again at the mere thought of the word.

"Party?"

Gerard shook his head. "Sorry, zoned out." He apologized.

"It's alright, Party, we're nearly there anyway." Fun Ghoul pushed his lips up into a smile before letting them fall back into a line of concentration.

"How much further?" Gerard inquired.

"I think I can see the station up ahead." Fun Ghoul replied, pointing ahead.

Gerard turned to where Fun Ghoul was pointing. Indeed, off in the distance, there was a small building coming into view. At their current speed, it could only be minutes until they arrived.

Gerard turned back to Fun Ghoul, who had pulled up his jacket sleeve and was talking into something on his wrist.

"Incoming, Kobra." Fun Ghoul grinned, "I've got a special delivery."

There was a pause of static before another voice replied from the device on Frank's wrist. "Copy. Better hurry up, we've got a storm rolling through."

"Blame Desert Hurricane." Fun Ghoul laughed before setting his arm back at its angle on the door.

"Desert Hurricane?" Breezy was here too? "Where's she?"

Fun Ghoul shrugged, "Probably with Villainous Pills at one of the other fill up location bases. She hasn't been around the main complex in a bit."

Gerard quickly tried to process Fun Ghoul's words when he let out a loud exclamation.

"Home stretch, Party!" He laughed as he pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal.

Gerard gripped the dashboard tightly as Fun Ghoul accelerated. Dust flew up in the air behind them like smoke from a fire, but Fun Ghoul seemed to be greatly enjoying himself. He hollered and 'wooo'ed as they sped up upon the small gas station.

Quite suddenly, he was yelling something along the lines of "hold on!" before his foot moved to the break pedal. Gerard was sent forward against his seatbelt, forcing the air out of his lungs. The car spun in the dirt, but Fun Ghoul expertly spun the wheel and guided it where it needed to go; that spot turned out to be parallel to one of the worn fuel pumps outside of the gas station.

"Woo! Makes me feel alive every time!" Fun Ghoul laughed, shutting his eyes and leaning back in his seat.

Gerard's grip on the dashboard had grown so tight that his knuckles had become ghost white. He gulped, trying to hold down the contents of his stomach as Fun Ghoul continued to laugh. At least they were alive after that.

Fun Ghoul eventually calmed. He remained leaned back in his seat as he unbuckled. "Ready to go in?" He asked, flashing Gerard a loving smile that would have made Gerard's stomach flip, if it wasn't already doing sickening summersaults.

"Lead the way." Gerard smiled in response, moving to unbuckle his own belt. If he made it out of this alive, he would never trust Frank's driving again. "I'll follow you."

"Done." Fun Ghoul held that smile on his lips. Before Gerard could react, those lips were on his once again.

Oh man, this wasn't getting old. Frank-no-Fun Ghoul put so much feeling behind the lip locked connection... Fun Ghoul's hand trailed up Gerard's face, entangling finger's in his hair before pulling back.

"Kobra's waiting for us." He said, taking his time to untangle his fingers from Gerard's hair.

The redhead gulped, feeling his jeans tighten in certain areas. "Y-yea. We should get in there. D-don't wanna worry him..." He nodded, attempting to picture things that would kill his growing problem in his pants.

"I'll meet you inside." Fun Ghoul winked. He finally pulled his hand out of Gerard's hair and turned to open his car door. Once he slipped out, Gerard exhaled a sigh of relief. He shut his eyes, tightly, picturing the most unappealing things he could imagine to calm his body's natural reaction to what had just happened.

It took a few minutes, but Gerard had finally managed it. He sighed before opening his own door and climbing out of the car. As he slammed the door shut, he looked at the building they were parked next to.

It looked simply like a worn down gas station. It's walls held strong against the wind and weather, but not graffiti artists. As Gerard moved around the vehicle, he read over some of the colorful writings decorating the building.

MakE soME noiSe

Better Living can suck it

Long Live The Killjoys

VIVA LA REVOLUTION!

Several other messages and pictures resided on the wall as well, but those were some of the most legible. Gerard tilted his head as he walked past the broken gas pump and closer to the building. For some strange reason, the handwriting felt familiar. It was scribbled and tilted in just the same way Gerard wrote... How had they copied that?

Then again, Mikey had forged plenty of signatures on report cards in the past, so maybe it wasn't that far fetched to pull off. The rest of this world, however...

"Party! Hurry that pretty ass of yours up!"

Gerard felt his cheeks heat up as his attention was drawn to an open door just a few feet away. He hurried over to it, stepping into a dim hallway. At the end of the hallway, the narrow walls opened into a larger space, where Gerard could see Fun Ghoul leaning against something with his arms crossed and a somber expression.

Rather hesitantly, Gerard followed the hallway. There was a static echoing in the air, like someone had left the radio on a dead channel; it was rather eerie. When Gerard reached the point where the space opened up, he saw that Fun Ghoul was leaning against a dinner counter of sorts. He stood between bar stools, looking in the direction of tables and booths across from him.

When Gerard directed his gaze that way, fully, his eyes widened. His bother was sat atop on of the tables, dressed flawlessly as his character in Gerard's drawings: Kobra Kid. His red jacket was draped over the booth next to him, but his helmet with good luck written across the visor was resting in his criss crossed lap. His bare arms were crossed over it as he looked sadly at a portable radio that was placed in front of him.

"Party."

Gerard turned to look at Fun Ghoul. The killjoy nodded towards Kobra Kid, still wearing his somber expression. "We missed some bad news from Doctor D."

"What bad news?" Gerard asked.

"Ghosted." His brother responded in a cracked voice. Gerard turned to him, feeling his heart break a little from the hurt in his little brother's tone. Kobra Kid was still looking at the radio. "They got the YoungBloods. Doctor D confirmed. There were... There were no survivors."

"Fuckin' Dracs!" Fun Ghoul spit off to his side, "We lost four good men in one foul swoop."

Gerard looked between the two killjoys in front of him. This wasn't right. Yes, he had written the 'youngbloods' into his world, but he had never fully committed to killing them off. He hadn't even mentioned that consideration to anyone. How the hell had they gotten that information?

"How?" Kobra looked up at Gerard. His eyes were red, as if he had earlier been crying. "You don't want to know and I wish I hadn't of heard." He looked back down at the radio before shutting his eyes tightly.

Shit, Gerard must have spoken at least part of his question out loud. He looked down, trying to hide his face from the others.

Pete was part of that group of killjoys; there was no way Mikey would joke about his death, even if it was for a big gag. Mikey and Pete had been way too close.

Then why was he doing it now?

Gerard was pulled out of his thoughts by someone wrapping their arms around him in a tight embrace. Kobra Kid.

"At least you've managed to stay alive." Kobra muttered, hiding his face in Gerard's shoulder. "No way I could handle five deaths and taking charge in one swing."

"So, the brother part has nothing to do with it?" Gerard halfheartedly laughed at his attempt to lighten the heavy mood in the room.

To his surprise, Kobra gave a small laugh in response. "If I had family, I'd be honored to call you my brother."

If I had a family.

Gerard looked at his brother in confusion as the pulled apart. "We are family." He said, putting his hand on the Killjoy's shoulder.

Kobra gave him a weak smile. Something strange passed over his eye, but he started speaking before Gerard could really focus on it. "Guess we've become that, haven't we?" With that, he moved away from Gerard, starting a low conversation with Fun Ghoul as he held up a wrist device, similar to the one Fun Ghoul wore.

It didn't make sense. Even in this universe, in any universe, Gerard was Mikey's brother. Why would Mikey think otherwise? Was it something to do with whatever had crossed over his eye? It had looked so similar to what had happened to Frank...

What the hell was really going on?..