Danger Days

7

Frank pulled the van up to the house and stopped the engine. He and Gerard sat in silence for a moment before Frank got out. He walked over to Gerard's side of the car and opened the door.

"Come on," Frank prompted gently. "Let's, um... Let's get you in bed, okay?"

He helped Gerard get out of the vehicle and walked them up to the door of the house. He walked inside, and could immediately feel the energy sink. Ricky sat on the kitchen floor. Opal was in his lap, her eyes puffy and red. Ricky was swaying back and forth, singing to her and gently patting her hair. Steve was in the living room, sitting at his broadcast station, with his head down on the panel.

Frank took Gerard's arm and led him to their room. He walked Gerard over to his mattress and helped him sit down on it. Gerard promptly laid down and turned away from Frank, pulling his knees to his chest.

"Um, d-do you want me here, or do you want to be alone?" Frank asked. Gerard didn't respond. "Right. Well, I-I'll be here, okay? If you need anything."

Frank got to his feet and left the room, closing the door behind him. He stood in the hallway for a few seconds, then let his feet carry him into the living room. He sat down on the couch, opposite Steve.

"How'd you know?" Frank croaked.

Steve sat up and turned to him. "My buddy called me," he said. "He saw 'em... They got swarmed with Exterminators. He-He hid, but he said he heard so many shots and so many explosions... Not hard to figure out what happened."

Frank let out a shakey breath. "Fuck, I could use a smoke," he said, rubbing his palms against his thighs.

"I have some stale cigs from God knows when if you want 'em," Steve offered. "I'm not that desperate, but-"

"Thanks," Frank interrupted. Steve stood up and left the room, returning with a half full box of cigarettes and an old lighter. He handed them to Frank and sat back down at his station. Frank stood up and walked outside, taking a seat against the back of the house. He lit one of the cigarettes, realizing suddenly how stale was too stale.

He coughed hard, spitting into the dirt. "Fuck," he muttered. He flicked the cigarette and sighed. Still better than nothing, right? he thought.

Frank looked up at the stars. He thought back to just a few nights prior, when Ray had flown the five of them across the country.

Fuck, five of us... There's only three now. He felt tears suddenly well in his eyes. He let out a loud sob, covering his mouth. What the fuck, man? They were so fucking young, they didn't deserve it. I didn't get to know them for long enough. It's not fair!

Frank lifted the cigarette and took a weak drag. He let the tears roll down his cheek, cries wracking his body as he slowly smoked the cigarette to its filter. When it was finished, he stubbed it out in the dry ground and tossed it aside. He waited to collect himself, then wiped his face and got to his feet.

He made his way back inside. Ricky and Steve were in the living room, sitting on the couch. Frank leaned on the doorway. "Hey," he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat. "Where's Opal?"

"Laying down in our bed," Steve said. "Gerard's in the other room, but I don't think he wants to be bothered."

"Believe me, I wasn't going to try." Frank sighed. "Can I sit?"

Steve gestured to the chair to his right, and Frank took a seat. He rubbed his face.

"It doesn't feel real," Ricky said. "I-I mean, Ray can't be dead. He's survived so much more than this."

"I know," Steve whispered, wrapping his arms around Ricky. "I know. It doesn't feel real to me, either." He paused, then smiled. "Do you remember that night, right after we met Ray and Opal, when I let them do one of my broadcasts?"