I'm Here, Sugar

The Mighty Fall

Song Suggestion: Maya the Psychic - by Gerard Way

Civil Destruction is sitting on a bench, out of sight from the road. He's not lost. He has no idea where the hotel is, though. Second St. is easy enough to find. Technically it's past curfew so he is being really stupid going out so late but he can't go back to the hotel now. He's in such a bad mental state that if he didn't have a mission (rescuing Paint Bomb), he would have just turned himself in to the Dracs.

The bench isn't exactly comfortable, but it's not like he has anywhere else to go. Even if he could find the hotel again, Ghost probably wouldn't want him back, not after he ran away like that.

It's probably for the best that he doesn't have anything sharp on him.

--

Ghost River is numb. He hasn't moved from his chair since Civil ran. He is exhausted from the day's events, but he knows that if he sleeps now his nightmares will come back.

A knock on the door distracts him from his brooding. He shoots up, holding hope in his heart that it's Civil at the door, but when it opens his face falls again.

"What do you want?" he asks Pete.

"I saw Civil run off. He was crying." Pete stares at him accusingly and Ghost's face falls. He was hoping that Civil hadn't left the hotel, which is almost impossible to find. He also feels guilty.

"You've been crying too." Pete observes, and Ghost notices the heat around his eyes and the dampness of his cheeks for the first time. He wipes a hand over his face, trying to remove the evidence. "What happened?"

Ghost doesn't want to talk about it. "I asked him about his f-friend," his voice cracks, "he started crying and then we kissed." The memory brought warmth to his heart. "Then he pushed me away and ran out."

Ghost's face is void of emotion. He just wants Pete to leave him alone. They stand like that for a while, Ghost isn't sure how long. Who's counting?

Finally, Pete nods and walks towards the door. "You should get some sleep."

Ghost doesn't sleep.

--

Civil had decided to go for a walk. He didn't know where he was going, he just let his feet carry him. It must have been over an hour before he stopped and rested his back against a light post like he had on the way into the city.

This time the lamppost was on and it cast a yellow glow over the street and made Civil's amber skin into a sickly color.

Civil wasn't crying anymore. He was over that. Now he was humming a slow tune, closing his eyes with the effort to remember where he had heard it.

Ghost. He had heard Ghost humming the melody while they walked back from the grocery store. He squeezed his eyes and pictured Ghost's face. His chest warmed as he thought of the kiss they shared, and burned icily with the thought of running away from him. Civil wasn't one to admit when he made a mistake, but this time he knew, deep down, that he should have stayed with Ghost. But that was in the past, they would probably never see one another again.

Sounds interrupted his thoughts. Radio static, then voices. From what he could hear, there were probably two Dracs coming down the street towards him. His heart froze in his chest. He didn't have his gun with him. He was weak and tired, there was no way for him to hold his own.

He ran.

Feet hitting pavement he took off down the sidewalk, feeling the burning in his lungs and his legs. The Dracs had noticed him. He was so out of shape.

He took a right, past a yellow sign, in the hopes of losing them. His chest is contracting now, he's never run so fast. He skids to a halt. Dead end. That's probably what the sign said. He lets out a half-hearted chuckle, overwhelmed by his situation. To anyone watching, he probably looks like a madman.

Scanning, he spots a gate that looks easy enough to jump. Soon enough he is on the other side and leaning against a tree, the adrenaline slowly leaving his body. If he closes his eyes now, he'll be asleep in an instant.

He sees pavement not too far away and jogs over. Second St. He looks over and the house Paint is being held in is right there.

Why not?

--

The kidnapper sits on the couch, smiling to herself. She pulls out her phone and texts a contact saved as Alice, within seconds there is a reply. 

Avery: Are you up for pedicures tomorrow?

Alice: Yeah! I can't wait to see you, Auntie Avery!

She smiles, her niece is adorable. They go out to get pedicures once a month at a little shop on Fourth St. once a month. Avery makes sure to keep her niece away from her other life, you know, the kidnapping one.

She looks out the broken window and a grin spreads across her face. She has company. A hand lands on her pocket, double-checking the contents, before she gracefully stands and walks out her front door.

A figure just exited number 12, right before Civil's eyes. It's not Paint. Civil finds himself nearing closer. The figure cocks her head. "Hello."

Civil nods in response, "Hi." He dignifies her greeting.

"Why did you come back?" Her voice is pleasant, but it contains a definite edge. A poorly concealed threat in the tone. He considers the fact that she probably doesn't have any reason to conceal it.

"My friend."

"Oh," her tone has turned sickeningly patronising, "You mean James?"

"Don't use his deadname." Civil's voice is laced with disgust.

"He asked me to call him that." She smirks, "He likes it."

"Really? I bet he won't even talk to you, why would he ask you to call him James?"

"He loves me." Her voice is strong, "My boyfriend loves me." Civil gags and resists the urge to throw up into the gorgeous potted plants to his right.

"You're bluffing." He calls her out. She merely smiles. "Let him go!" He shouts, not knowing where this confidence is coming from.

She removes a handgun from her pocket and there's a click as she turns the safety off and aims at him, "You're not really in the best position to be demanding things from me." There goes his confidence. "I probably won't let you live, seems more merciful to kill you." she smiles sweetly, faux-contemplating, "I just wanted to let you know that your little crush doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. He just kept you around because you could get him out of nasty spots. He's really upset that you haven't rescued him yet."

Civil feels the tears welling in his eyes. Paint cared for him, they were best friends. The woman was lying. He wouldn't let her see him cry.

"I asked if he wanted to say goodbye before I killed you." Civil softly whimpered at her words, "He shrugged and went back to writing in his journal. He couldn't care less about what happens to you." He shut his eyes so he didn't have to see the nasty smirk on her face at those words.

A gunshot rings out.

--

The lady who kidnapped me, Avery, just came into my room. I was sleeping, but she woke me up. She told me she loves me, and that's why she kidnapped me. I smiled and I told her I love her too. She ran a hand through my hair and asked if I wanted to be her boyfriend. I said yes. She'll be so much more useful to me than Civ ever was.

She then started talking, but I was so wrapped up in everything that was happening that I wasn't really paying attention. She mentioned something about killing Civ, but I just shrugged. He doesn't mean anything to me anymore, not now that I have her.

I'm in love.

Goodnite Journal,

Paint Bomb.