~Frank/Fun Ghoul's POV~
Quit blushing! I sigh and look down at the ray gun in my hands. Two weeks ago I had been kissed-and kissed back, I admit-Party Poison. Since then I'd learned how to shoot a ray gun, how to ghost a Drac and was almost a master of speaking to Dr. Death-Defying through the radio without being too confusing or speaking normally. But in those two weeks I had gotten well acquainted with Kobra Kid. He was a real nerd, pretty chill.
All around, he seemed anxious. Like, he was always on edge. Even when he was laughing at a joke or jumping around, he just seemed... Like something bad was gonna happen and if he wasn't prepared for it, he would die. It was a bit worrying at first, but then I sort of got used to it and we formed a... bond of sorts, I guess you could say. We were more friends than anything. Though he was much closer to Poison than to me, obviously. He seemed to always levitate towards Jet-Star, though. They were obviously very close. Jet-Star...
He was definitely awesome. He had these two old electric guitars and a few amps set up in a back room with a mike and a bass guitar. When he found out I played, he told us about their own band, Mad Gear and The Missile Kid. When I asked who The Missile Kid was, he said Grace, as though that summed everything up. Which it didn't. He then went on to tell me that Grace was a girl of about nine or eleven that lived with them. She was sought after by BL/Ind, which was why they-the toughest killjoys out here, apparently-were trusted to take care of here since she was small. He really loved her, I could tell.
He showed me a few pictures of her. She had dark-ish skin and some curly-ass hair to rival that of Jet-Star's. Big, brown curious eyes lit up her face and a wide, white smile gave her a cheery disposition. She already seemed like a sweet little girl. When I told Jet-Star that, he smiled and nodded, tucking the picture back in his inside jacket pocket where it had come from. He was probably the most like a parent to her.
It was when he thrust one of the two guitars into my hands that I got nervous. I hated playing in front of people. He proceeded to assure me that the amp was off and when the door was shut it was almost completely inaudible outside of the room. That reassured me a little, so I warmed up and quickly fell into the smooth rhythm that was guitar. It was a nice guitar as well. An Epiphone, something before BL/Ind's time. How he'd managed to rescue this thing from its most likely imminent destruction was beyond my reckoning.
When I had finished, he slowly clapped. I smile at him sheepishly and hand the guitar back. He shakes his head, smiling. His hair bounces slightly as he goes on the explain,
"You earned her, man. She's your now. Welcome to Mad Gear and The Missile Kid, Fun Ghoul." I would have said something good, but a few crashes outside the room draw our attention and our ray guns. I'm skeptical. Usually Party Poison or Kobra Kid tripping would be followed by a shouted apology or obscenity, but this time it was followed by muffled shouts and the sound of breaking glass.
Even though I had been taught better than to just rush into the heat of things, even though my mind was already wondering what my last words would be, I had one thought in my mind. Party Poison had been in the front room and by the sounds coming from there, he wasn't the only one there anymore. But he probably wouldn't be alive much longer if Jet-Star and I just hid here. I yank open the door, Jet hot on my trail as we round two corners and are met with the sight of Dr. Death-Defying getting pinned against a table by a Drac while another points a gun at him. Kobra Kid is menacingly pointing at three simultaneously, but they're closing in on him. Show Pony is hunkered down in a corner, hiding from all the debris and aiming to save Dr. Death. Jet immediately goes to help Kobra. I don't see Party Poison.
The yelling finally reaches my ears. There, at a far side of the room, is Party Poison, with Korse's pale, white hands on either side of his skull, mostly likely putting tremendous pressure onto it. All Poison can do is stare at the yelling Exterminator in pain, while weakly trying to pry his hands off of his head. Korse has Poison on his knees, staring into his eyes as he demands to know where Grace is. Poison says nothing and when Korse nods to a nearby Drac to draw his gun, I move from my frozen position.
"You touch him, you're dead, Korse." I shout, drawing my green gun on him. He finally acknowledges my presence with a sneer. I hold my ground. Party Poison, I think. That's why you're doing this.
"Who have we here? A little boy, all dressed up for his own funeral?" He nods to the Draculoid from before, but just as it's taking its first step, I turn to it and pull the trigger. It falls into a heap on the floor. Nobody's moving. My heart is hammering inside my chest and I hope it doesn't show, but I'm about to piss my pants. I'm terrified, really.
"Oh, I fucking know you didn't call me little, Exterminator." He laughs- a cold, emotionless thing and turns a bit more to me, releasing some of the pressure on Poison's head. Poison's eyes regain focus a bit.
"Some way to talk up to me, boy." I curl my lip, my gun pointed at him again. He lets go of Poison completely. As he crumples to the ground, I have to fight the urge to run over to him. I may have been avoiding him for two weeks, but that didn't mean that I wasn't still worried. I still thought he was good for me. Hell, these past two weeks had been hell because of that.
"I'm not talking up to you. I'm talking down. Trust me, if the rest of you were proportionate to your fucking dick, you'd be half my size, motherfucker." It's his turn to make a face. Poison's labored breathing is the only thing that is reaching my ears other than my pounding blood and Korse's words.
"You talk big for someone so insignificant in size." I spit next to his shoe. He grimaces.
"Yeah, well, I'm only insignificant if you count nine inches as 'insignificant'." Okay, that really wasn't an exaggeration. Trust me, doctors measured that kind of weird shit in the hospitals in Battery City.
"You don't have what we want. You're all too useless to even keep a girl alive. You've let her die, haven't you? A pity." Faster than my eyes can see, he's pulled his gun and is pointing it at Poison's figure.
What happens next is complete slow motion for me. The small space of the Diner allowed me to shove past Korse just as he pulled the trigger. As the recoil sent his arm up, the shot hit my side and I fell, covering Poison. Korse's evil laugh was one of the last things I heard before there were a few muffled sounds of what sounded like punches.
Poison shoves me off of him and onto my back. It hurts to breathe. I knew I had taken it to the side, just not exactly where. Judging by the fire in my lungs, somewhere along my ribs. The ceiling above me is spinning and I can hear Poison's voice in my ears.
"Ghoul! Ghoul? Come on Ghoul.... out of it... much stronger than this, I .... you, dammit!" The weight on my chest is unwanted, but I know it's Poison. I can feel something wet. Is he crying? I can't tell.
"Sleep..." I mutter. Poison's head shoots up, into my line of sight. While everything is spinning and everything is blurry, I can see his firetruck hair standing out perfectly.
"No, ... Ghoul! You... sleep right now! Just wait.... be okay, I promise!" I nod and repeat my request as my eyes slip shut.
"Sleep, Poison... Not hurt?" He grabs my hand.
"I'm not hurt, Ghoul! ... Hurt! You .... Ghoul. You saved.... life." His voice hadn't been clear but after hearing and vaguely piecing together I had saved him, I allow my lips to curve into a smile before letting my request overcome me. I fall asleep.
