The Kids From Yesterday ➸ Danger Days

fifteen • you only hear the music when your heart begins to break

Kobra stands alone at the edge of the gas station, quietly observing the desert. He doesn't particularly want to go back to talk with any of the other Killjoys, his memories silently killing him without the rest of them noticing. Missile Kid went oblivious when he had disappeared twenty minutes ago. Thank God. But Kobra still can't bring himself to face the memories of what had happened fifteen or so years ago, because he hasn't forgiven himself. Still, you'd think he'd have by now, but that just isn't the case.

He blames himself for their deaths, all of them, even if it isn't his fault. 

"Mikes? You okay?" 

Kobra turns, looking at Jet Star next to him. The taller Killjoy is holding his helmet limply in his left hand, while in his right he held a bandana. Either way, Kobra nods simply and shrugs it off, averting his gaze and turning it back to the desert hills and the slowly setting sun. The blonde flinches at the touch of the elder everso gently wiping a tear from his cheek- one he wasn't even aware of shedding.

"She deserves to know, Ray, but it's..." Kobra shakes his head, turning to face the one he couldn't help but just love. "It hurts."

"You still haven't gotten over it, have you? Killing Brendon?"

"How can I?"

Jet Star shakes his head, putting down the helmet and bandana to put his hands on the younger's shoulders. "It's not your fault. You know that he was going to kill all of us if you didn't do something."

"It doesn't make it right. I loved him. And I...and I killed him. What does that make me?"

"Putting it all behind a wall when you're around anyone else does nothing. You need to just let go, Mikey; hiding every emotion doesn't help."

"Maybe it does help me. Maybe it keeps them from thinking I'm weak."

"You aren't weak. You're one of the strongest people I know, and the only one that isn't affected by BLI's pills."

The Kobra Kid slips off his sunglasses, looking Jet in the eye. He wants so desperately to argue, but he can't bring himself to. He just can't. There isn't a logical argument to make, and honestly he's afraid that if he speaks, his emotional wall will crack- the one keeping everything inside. Jet Star cups Kobra's face in his hands, leading the two to gently kiss. It doesn't last long; fleeting and delicate as Kobra is the one to pull away.

"Not in front of Gracie," the blonde murmurs.

"You mean 'not in front of your brother'."

Kobra looks at Jet, laughing quietly as the curly-haired Killjoy kisses his forehead instead, picking up his things to take back to the car. They set up camp inside the gas station, roll-out bedmats laying on the ground near the back door in case they needed a quick getaway. They'd usually have set a fire for heat and light, but being near the road and in a gas station, fire just reeked to be a bad idea.

Instead, they lit one of the lanterns from the back of the Trans Am and made themselves as comfortable as possible. Honestly, it's a very gay campout, but what did you expect?

"So... Ray and Frankie were trying to get back to you guys?" Grace asks, snuggling underneath the best blanket they possessed (it either went to her, or whoever was sick or injured). "What happened after that?"

"Mikes, do you want to-?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"He said no, Gerard." 

"Alright, fine, I guess it's my turn then."

- X -

It was awful.