Hands grabbed at clothes and mouths locked together as Frank and Gerard found themselves consumed by something neither of them wanted to put a name to. They were close to Mikey, so close, but had stopped because Ray had needed to hunt. There wasn't much to hunt around here, admittedly, but for a hybrid-vampire thing, he could probably handle it. The likelihood was, there was a man with a few dogs on a makeshift ranch or something.

"I know what you're doing back there." Bert muttered from the front, and Gerard broke from Frank long enough to tell him to fuck off, and he sighed. "Fine. I'm hungry anyway."

They barely registered the slam of the car door, lost inside each other, pressed up against one another in the confined space of the car. They didn't know why or quite how this had happened, only that one minute they'd been holding each other in the back while Ray hummed beside Bert, the next Frank's fingers had been dancing up the elder's thigh and their mouths suddenly fused together.

It wasn't an altogether unpleasant feeling, but it was stronger than either of them wanted to admit. And they were both trying their hardest to forget; Frank wanted to forget all the lies he'd told and everything he'd done, and Gerard wanted to forget the unshakeable feeling that all this was for shit. That Mikey wasn't even alive by now.

They'd lost count of the days, so it had to have been at least a week or maybe two since they'd met, but they didn't know, a lot had happened since then, and they were both unhealthily scared. What would happen once Gerard had found his brother? Would they all stick together? They kind of needed to, Ray included if he was on their side (though Frank thought that maybe he wasn't on anyone's side and still didn't trust him enough to sleep in the car around him), if they were going to survive this. After Mikey, he wanted to see if there was a survivors' camp anywhere, another group just like them, so that maybe they could build civilisation back up again. It had been four years. There had to be.

Gerard pulled Frank's vest thing off him, tracing the scarring down his left side. "What happened?" He asked, face buried in the younger's neck. "Who did this to you?"

Frank swallowed heavily. "It's nothing. I'll tell you later. Now isn't the time." He brought their mouths back together, but all he could see behind his closed eyes was her, and the fire, and the pain.

He ended up on top as best as he could, running his hand up Gerard's chest. He didn't know he was shaking until the elder pulled away, frowning in concern, brushing his hair from his face. He realised then that he didn't want to go any further; to offer himself to Gerard and have Gerard offer himself in return, only to destroy the man in a few hours, would kill him. He needed to know that Gerard really wanted him. Even after all of this mess.

"She set fire to me," he choked out, burying his face in Gerard's neck. "Lindsey doused my tent in gasoline and set fire to it, and because it was small, it was really hard to get out of, and - and -" he swallowed heavily, tears running down his face, and he pushed his hair back and lifted the eyepatch, hearing Gerard's gasp. "I didn't exactly turn into Two-Face, but I thought I was going to die..."

"Why did she do it?" The elder whispered, pressing a hand to Frank's unscarred cheek. "Why would she do something so fucked-up?"

"Because I killed someone."

~

Ryan had passed out three hours ago and hadn't woken up. Lindsey checked him every half-hour, in case he wasn't breathing, but everything seemed to be fine, if a little slow. His skin was a scary shade of white, almost gray, which wasn't normal at all, and she'd changed the bandages on his hand only to find that the wound was badly infected and oozing blood.

She had never before felt this much worry, and it made her stomach churn as she considered throwing up. She'd been stood outside for twenty minutes, taking deep breaths and trying not to panic. To try and get everything back under control, to calm herself, she reminded herself of the end goal: to kill Frank Iero. She smiled, rubbing her hands together, imagining the blood she would soon feel on them.

Oh, how he'd pay for what he did. Not only to her, but to someone innocent. Someone who hadn't done anything wrong. He'd taken their life, and she would take his. An eye for an eye. A life for a life. As soon as Ray was back, things would be okay.

A sudden hacking cough sounded from the baby monitor at her feet, and she snatched it up, running back inside just in time to see Ryan doubled over, retching and spitting onto the floor from his spot on the ratty couch. He was shaking so hard he could barely breathe, his lips turning blue and his body curling in on itself.

"Ryan?" Lindsey said quietly, glancing at the baby monitor that sat near his head, and she approached him as he shivered. "Ryan, are you -"

"Don't," he hissed. "Don't ask me if I'm okay. You know I'm not." Despite his body language, his voice was strong and clear, if a bit nasally. "Do I look fucking okay to you?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Take me to the lab."

"What?" She cried. "No, you're in no fit state to -"

He waved her off, struggling to his feet himself, and he lurched out the room, towards the laboratory situated a few doors down from the living area. He was determined, she'd give him that, but he only made it out the door before falling to his knees, convulsing while his hands tried to hold him up, his elbows threatening to buckle.

"Ryan!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just need to get to the lab, I -"

She went over and hooked one of his arms around her shoulders, helping to his feet. He was clammy and cold, unpleasant to have against her, but she aided him in stumbling to the laboratory, where he approached his workstation and shakily picked up various vials of fluid, various Petri dishes of DNA, until he fell against her, unable to support his own weight.

"Ryan -"

"No!" The table was rattling against his grip as he pushed himself away from Lindsey, subsequently falling to the floor. He coughed, seemingly choking on something, and when he spat onto the tiles, what came out was not just saliva, but blood also. "I need - I - need - the pink one, the p-pink one -"

She looked all over the table until she found a small vial, filled with something thick and pink. She grabbed it and knelt down beside Ryan, who was on his back and foaming at the mouth. The foam was blood red and dripping down the side of his face as his body held no control of his actions. The virus was tearing its way through his system and couldn't be stopped.

Lindsey poured the weird pink stuff down his throat, watching as his body shuddered down to small twitches here and there. She frowned, a sudden realisation coming to her: this wasn't what normally happened to people who had been bitten by a zombie. Often they just dropped dead. Sometimes they got a sudden flu. Not this. Never this.

She held her hand over his heart and felt it slowing beneath her palm, ba-dum...ba-dum...ba...dum...

Until it stopped.

~

Frank hated this cliff, it was a stupid cliff, full of memories he didn't want to revisit and things he didn't want to think about.

Déjà vu hit him the second he and Gerard had gotten out the car, leaving Bert behind to find something decent to listen to on the radio, but this time it was the older Way brother, and not the younger. Gerard's palm was sweaty in his, but he refused to let go; he wanted to relish the comfort Gerard gave him before he ripped it away from himself, like that of a band-aid.

God, he didn't want to do this, but he'd made a promise, he'd stupidly made a promise to Gerard and he was going to keep it even if it was the last thing he'd ever do.

Gerard had asked him and asked him about who he'd killed, but he wouldn't say. He'd find out soon enough, he supposed. The best part, though, was the fact that Gerard didn't look at him any differently. The fact that Frank had killed someone, taken their life, didn't deter him from snuggling up to him in the car, and kissing him every so often.

It wouldn't last long.

"So Mikey's up here?" Gerard asked, voice and face alight with excitement. He couldn't wait to see his brother, it had been so long. He was going to hug him and never let go and apologise for all the bad things he'd done, like ignoring him, like scaring him, like stealing his best shoes and mucking them up.

Frank only nodded.

"Are you okay?"

Frank nodded again.

They passed the singed remains of what looked like a tent, and Gerard gestured towards it, looking at Frank. "Was that yours?"

The younger winced. "Yeah."

Even though he hated it here, he couldn't deny that it was beautiful. The edge of the cliff dropped down to a river, and nearby was a waterfall. There were trees all around, though it wasn't as beautiful as it was in summer because there were no leaves on the trees, not to mention that it was raining hard. The grass was slippery beneath their feet, and it took longer to get to the top than it used to, but eventually they were there, feet away from the edge and the raging river below.

There was a cross, crudely fashioned from two sticks and bound with worn rope, stuck in the ground towards the edge. The earth in front of it looked like it had been moved, as if it had been dug up and put back in a hurry. But Gerard didn't notice that. He just looked around and noticed a lack of Mikey.

"Frank? Where is he?" He asked, voice absent of the excitement he felt fifteen minutes ago. "Frank?"

The teenager was shivering, not just from cold, but from fear, and he took a deep breath and let it out as steady as he could. He tapped his toes against the earth that lay in front of the cross, the small, grave-like mound, and as he did so, in a voice so quiet it could've been lost in the wind, he spoke.

"He's here."

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