Gone, But Not Forgotten

Blood. And lots of it.

Poison clung to the figure that the blood came from. Blond hair had little flecks of red, and a steady stream leaked out of his mouth. There was a hole burnt into the bright orange jacket, and the cobra emblem was now red, drenched with its wearer’s blood.

Kobra Kid was breathing, but it was ragged and unlikely that he’d survive. All things considered, he was lucky… Jet was already dead.

Poison’s too stunned to speak, so Fun Ghoul made it his job to try to get Kobra to calm down.

“Breathe, Kobra… just breathe,” Ghoul’s trying his best to keep his voice steady, if only to keep Poison and Kobra from freaking out. (Poison more so than Kobra.)

A whimper escapes from Kobra as his jacket is peeled off. That whimper turns into a scream when Poison tries to remove the yellow and black (and red) shirt in order for Ghoul to get a better look at the wound.

“Holy fucking shit!”

The wound looked awful, and Poison couldn’t bear to look. He took Ghoul’s word for it and just ran a hand through Kobra’s (bloody) blonde locks.

“Gerard,” Ghoul says, using his real name, “This… this looks pretty bad. I don’t know if he’ll make if through this.”

Poison’s voice doesn’t work. He can’t even tell Ghoul that he can’t lose Kobra, too. He can’t lose the only remaining member of his actual family.

Ghoul knows this. “Hold him down. I’ll try to clean the wound, but it’s not gonna be pretty.”

Poison refuses to take his eyes off of Kobra’s face the entire time. It’s scrunched up in pain and each scream tears him apart little by little, but he tries his best to keep his little brother calm.

Kobra finally passes out from the pain.

…

There were very little medical supplies in the Zones, so Kobra’s chances of surviving are nearly nonexistent. Kobra has chops, but that in no way meant that he’d be fine.

Poison knew this. He denied it, though.

“We don’t have any form of life support, Poison,” Ghoul tells him, “Hell, we barely had enough bandages to wrap his wound in! You… you might as well say goodbye. I’ve already done so.”

Poison’s about to tell him that he’s wrong, that Kobra will live, but Ghoul tells him, “Do it now. You’ll wish you did when he’s gone.”

Poison tries not to take it too hard when he hears when. He nods and gets up, moving towards Kobra.

Kobra is in a deep sleep, and he looks horrible. He’s not screaming in pain, though, which was better than earlier. There was an IV drip in his arm, an item very difficult to smuggle out of Battery City, with what Poison was sure had a shot of morphine in it, which, again, was also a difficult substance to find. They had no way to keep track of Kobra’s vitals, so they could only go by the rising and falling of his chest.

Poison sits in the chair next to Kobra’s cot, a sigh escaping from his lips. Poison grasps his younger brother’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, Mikey,” Poison whispers, using his other hand to remove his mask. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected you.”

There was no response, and it killed Gerard to see this. It looked more and more like Ghoul was right about this… god, he hated it when Ghoul was right.

“I love you, Mikey,” Gerard said, “So does Frank, Grace, and Ray… even though Ray’s gone, now. We… we can’t lose you! Who else is gonna literally kick some Drac ass? Who else is gonna hack the BLI vending machines for food? Who… who else is just gonna be there for us? You’re our most rational Killjoy, even if you do set toasters on fire with forks… or almost accidentally electrocute yourself with a heater.”

“G-gee… that w-was one time…”

Gerard’s heart nearly exploded when he heard the weak voice of his baby brother. A grin finds its way one Gerard’s face. “Mikey..!” Gerard stands up and yells, “Frank! He’s awake!”

Frank runs into the room, bottle of cheap liquor in hand. “Holy shit… you’re awake.”

Mikey lets out a small giggle. The giggle turns into a cough, though, and soon there’s a little bit of blood coming down his jaw.

Gerard kneels down and grabs Mikey’s shoulders. “Easy, Mikey…”

“Gee… I’m… sorry…”

Another cough escapes from Mikey, and Frank is forced to push Gerard out of the way in order for him to get a better look. Frank checks Mikey’s pulse and shakes his head.

“This is it, Gerard…”

Frank’s words shook Gerard. He wanted to deny it, but he had the sense to understand that this was the end for his baby brother.

“Make this count, man,” Frank said, “You won’t have another chance to talk to him after this.”

Frank left the room, bottle in hand.

“Mikey… Mikey, you’re…”

“I know… and… I accept that.”

Leave it to Mikey to totally accept the fact that he’s about to die. Gerard would’ve laughed, had it not been so serious.

“Y-you’ll carry on, Gerard,” Mikey said, “I know you w-will.”

“It’s not gonna be easy, Mikey,” Gerard said, “When I had to carry on in the past, you were there with me.”

Mikey gave him a weak smile. “Gerard, we all understood the r-risks. Jet knew… there was a chance th-that he’d die, and… he took the risk. I’m doing the same now… and I… I know it’ll get to the point where you and Frankie will, too.”

Gerard nodded. Kobra was possibly their smartest Killjoy… without him around, their chances of getting killed was now much higher.

“Listen, Gerard,” Mikey said, trying to keep his voice steady, “I know this is p-probably difficult for… for her… I mean, we’re probably the only f-f-family she now has. Tell Grace to stay st-st-strong and keep her mask- er… helmet… on. T-tell Frankie that e-even though I’m gone… tell him that I s-st-still care for him. Tell him to st-stop looking to the bottle and start moving forward. Tell him that he needs to be there for her. And… Gerard…”

“Yes, Mikey?”

“D… Don’t give up. Not now. Not ever,” Mikey whispered, “In this desert, you know as well as I do… that we’re never truly gone. My shadow will still be there…”

“I promise, Mikey,” Gerard said, “I’m not going out without a fight. But… save a place for me, wherever you’re going. I won’t let you be out there alone for long.”

Mikey smiled. “I hope it’s not too soon…. We… we still have to… stop them.”

Gerard nodded. “I love you, Mikey.” He kissed his baby brother’s forehead, something he hadn’t done since Mikey was five and having terrible nightmares.

“I love you, too, Gerard,” Mikey murmured.

That was the last time Gerard would ever be able to speak to his brother… and it killed him.

…

Typically, a funeral in the Desert was something that didn’t occur, as there wasn’t really a good patch of dirt that one could even dig deep enough for a grave. But Cherri Cola knew of a decent place to bury Mikey, a place where the Draculoids and the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S couldn’t get a hold of him. They had buried Ray there earlier, while Mikey was in the infirmary, but Gerard didn’t go because he didn’t want to leave Mikey’s side. (He felt a little guilty, of course, since Ray was his friend, but he wanted to be there for Mikey.)

Cherri Cola placed a fairly large stone onto the makeshift grave, which would serve as a tombstone. Cola didn’t use Mikey’s actual name, for the sake of protecting Gerard’s identity, and used the codename Kobra Kid instead.

Kobra Kid
His colours are quiet now, but his venom will still live on through us.

If Mikey were here to see this, Gerard was sure he’d love the reference to his namesake. Instead, though, Gerard would have to be the one to do it for him.

“Kobra was quiet. Dangerous… but a good kid. He was smart as hell and good with more than just his blaster and kung-fu. Though he was less enthusiastic about the mission he chose to undertake compared to his comrades, he kept at it nonetheless. Though he’s gone, his shadow will live on. He left a big red mark in the book of BLI, and that ink will never run dry… not anytime soon.”

Those words that Cola spoken were nothing less than beautiful. Cola did have a way with words, which is exactly why Gerard wanted him here for the funeral.

Mikey’s helmet didn’t fit into the Phoenix Witch’s mailbox, so Cola took the bandana that Mikey wore instead. He handed it to Gerard and asked, “Do you want to do this?”

Gerard took the bandana from Cherri Cola. The Killjoys didn’t have many nice things, and Mikey’s bandana was nice. He always kept it tucked into an inner pocket of his jacket, and only wore it when his helmet was out of commission. The red Kobra emblem was still neat and intact, which showed anyone who looks at it just how careful he was with it. It smelled faintly of the stuff Mikey used to polish his bass (which was also nice), and it made Gerard want to cry.

“Goodbye, Mikey,” Gerard whispered, as he placed the cloth into the mailbox.

“He’s with the Phoenix Witch now, Poison… she’ll watch over him, and in turn, he’ll watch over you.”

Gerard nodded, before placing his mask on his face.

…

Gerard came to see Mikey and Ray every day, along with Frank. Gerard would sit next to Mikey’s grave and just talk to him. He’d tell Mikey about the Dracs he dusted on his way over, or the encounter he had with a S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W, or a bar fight he got into hours earlier. He knew Mikey would never make any response, but he accepted that, even though it hurt like hell.

Gerard would end every one-sided conversation by singing to Mikey. When they were younger, Gerard always sang him to sleep, knowing it helped curb the nightmares that plagued his baby brother. Mikey didn’t have to worry about those anymore, but Gerard felt that he should do it anyway. Maybe, just maybe, Mikey could hear him singing, and maybe it soothed him.

“We hold in our hearts the sword and the faith… Swelled up from the rain, clouds move like a wraith…”

Gerard swears that he can feel Mikey’s presence there… maybe it was just him.

…

The place where the two remaining Killjoys called home was the only place other than Mikey’s grave where Gerard felt safe.

In the room that Gerard and Mikey used to share, Mikey kept his favorite bass under his bed. It was quite old, made well before 2012, but it worked very well. Gerard once tried to learn to play bass, but after breaking a string for the fourth time, they both thought that Gerard was better off just singing.

Gerard would take the bass out of the case and just sit there with it. He didn’t speak or sing, and he was extremely careful with the bass (especially the strings). Tears would be running down his face, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the fact that he didn’t have his baby brother with him.

…

As Party Poison, he needed to put his grief behind him in order to keep himself alive. That doesn’t mean the he forgets who killed Mikey.

Since every Draculoid looks the same, he’ll slaughter them mercilessly. S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S, though… he knows who killed his baby brother, and when he finds him, that S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W will regret even being born.

He promises that to Mikey. He promised to take out that S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W, even if it kills him.

…

Gerard drops by to visit Mikey’s grave. He drops a letter into the mailbox, with Mikey written in his neatest handwriting.

Gerard hopes Cola is right about the Phoenix Witch being able to get that letter to his baby brother.

…

Gerard writes a letter about three times a week and makes a trip to the mailbox. He’s hoping Mikey’s getting these letters… if not, he might lose it.

…

Today was the day he and Frank would try to rescue Grace. They hope that they won’t be too late… BLI could be torturing her or something far worse.

Getting into Battery City was the easy part… it was getting to the girl that was so difficult.

Dracs and lesser S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/S were everywhere, shooting at them on sight. But rage fueled each and every one of Gerard’s shots, and there’s always a fresh, steaming hole burnt into the head of a Draculoid or S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W.

They had finally managed to get to Grace, and Gerard immediately pulled her into the tightest hug he could manage. If they lost the only hope for the desert… well, he wasn’t sure what they’d do.

“C’mon… we gotta run,” he told the girl. She followed behind him, dodging the beams of light that shot from blasters.

“Ghoul! C’mon!”

“Coming! I had to-”

Fun Ghoul is shot twice. Once in the arm, and another in the chest. Poison knows he’s gone.

Poison feels a burning sensation in his back. He feels something wet and stick dripping down.

“Poison!”

Poison grabs something from his pocket. Two drops of blood land on his latest letter to Mikey.

“T… take this… to the mailbox… please,” Poison tells the girl, “And run… hide… don’t let them take you. You… you’re the only… hope… for them…”

The world fades to black, and the last thing Gerard sees is the girl running out of the building.

…

When Gerard wakes up, he feels… different.

“I got your letters, Gee.”

Gerard knew that voice. “Mikey… holy shit, I’m-”

“Dead. Yeah… you get used to the idea after a little while.”

Gerard turned to face Mikey. His hair wasn’t blonde, he didn’t have scars all over his body from fighting, and for once, there wasn’t a scowl on his face. It was just Mikey, before the Helium Wars, before the Pig Bomb, before Better Living Industries. Light brown locks of hair, pale skin, and the hazel eyes that almost nobody saw. That was the Mikey that he almost forgot existed.

“You were right, y’know. She does exist… the Phoenix Witch.”

“I told you,” Gerard said. He had a smile on his face, even if he was dead. He was back with his brother, and that’s all that mattered to him.

“So… what about Frank and Ray?”

“Ray’s with his parents… and Frank’s still trying to find his way. He’s close, though. She told me so,” Mikey said, “The only reason why you’re here is because of that very last letter you wrote. It… it helped you get here.”

Gerard nodded, but suddenly remembered something. “Grace! What about her?!”

“She’s doing exactly what you told her to do… run. Cherri Cola got to her before the Dracs… but she was so scared, she ran. I don’t know how long it will take, but she’ll soon be back with them.”

Gerard smiled. Leave it to Mikey to be so rational, even in death. He pulls his little brother into the tightest hug he can manage. The light scent of the polish Mikey used for his bass was still there, and that was how Gerard could tell that this wasn’t a dream.

Don’t let ‘em take you alive, girl… you’re the only hope for the Zones.

…

Several days later, the guys are united. They find an envelope with their codenames written on it.

The letter inside is short, but sweet.

I miss you… I hope that we’ll get to see each other again soon. You’re gone… but you’re not forgotten.

The letter’s not signed… but they already know who it’s from.