Calibrations

California 2014

Youngblood was hiding in a closet on the first floor, hoping that the barbecue wouldn't last too long. Figment had told him that they needed a better place to hide, and he figured that this was good enough. It was dark and crowded, but at least he was safe. As long as he stayed quiet, nobody would find him here. He just didn't want to be stuck in the closet for any longer than he had to be.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized what was in here. There were sketchbooks, dozens of them, stretching all the way back to when he was a teenager. Youngblood randomly picked one up, and he started flipping through it, in awe of his future self's drawing skills. There were characters that he hadn't invented, clever snippets of dialogue that he hadn't written, stories that he hadn't created yet. As he flipped through the sketchbook, he saw them coming to life before him, these comics that he hadn't written yet. For once, Youngblood was excited for the future. He couldn't wait to see what he would create someday.

All of a sudden, Youngblood heard his voice echoing throughout the house. "I can't slow down! I won't be waiting for you! I can't stop now because I'm dancing!"

Youngblood wasn't sure which of his future selves was singing, but his best guess was Poison. He wondered where the others were: the voice sounded like it was coming from upstairs, but he wasn't certain. It didn't matter though. The singing quickly stopped, and as soon as the house went silent again, he kept looking through the collection of sketchbooks.

He really couldn't believe his eyes. He found the sketchbook that he was working on back in 2002, the pages starting to yellow, but there was so much more. There was one signed by Stan Lee. There was another with a sketch of Poison's outfit. There were probably a million drawings of Frank. He was playing the guitar, playing with a puppy, singing, getting a new tattoo, smiling, holding his hand. Youngblood found a particularly detailed drawing of Frank, and he traced the lines of his face. His future self was a talented artist, but even he couldn't quite capture just how beautiful Frank was in real life. Soon, Youngblood found himself daydreaming again, imagining what it would be like to fall in love with Frank Iero.

Who was he kidding? He was already in love with him.

All of a sudden, he heard one of his future selves shouting again. "I don't care! I'll strangle you with my bare hands if I have to! Take it back!" Youngblood didn't know what was going on up there, and he didn't think he wanted to know.

He put the sketchbooks back in order, but as he carefully straightened out the shelves, he heard footsteps. Someone was here. He froze, but he heard two familiar voices, and they seemed to be coming closer.

"Frank, it's okay if you don't have it," Mikey said.

"I swear it's around here somewhere," Frank said. "I know I kept what's left of Pansy, and I'll show it to Bandit if it kills me."

Mikey sighed and said, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Frank said. "It's probably just buried under Gerard's comic books."

Mikey laughed and said, "Probably. He has way too many of those."

Youngblood wanted to say that there was no such thing as too many comic books, but he thought better of it and stayed quiet. He couldn't let Mikey and Frank find him.

"You know what?" Frank said. "I bet it's in the closet."

"You should have brought Gerard with you instead," Mikey said. "He might actually know where your guitar is."

"Yeah, probably," Frank said as he opened up the closet. "Okay, maybe Pansy's not in here," he said. "It's just a bunch of Gerard's sketchbooks and..."