The Monster War Tour

Frank was alright. He had only suffered a minor head injury, a cut with a width of a few centimetres, under his hair. He had been bandaged up by Alicia Simmons-Way, Mikey's wife. Alicia, who was determined to stay with Mikey even if it meant she died, had bluffed her way into the tour by singing a fragment of an Evanescence song. Although it wasn't immediately obvious, Alicia was utterly terrified. Only two days before Sovereign began rounding up the artists for the tour, she had found out she was pregnant. She had, naturally, confided in Mikey, who had confided in Gerard, who had told Frank, Ray and Bob. None of the six knew what to do. Alicia was not showing yet, but they had no idea how they would keep the Controlled from noticing when she did.

Alicia cried the night that Frank had fallen. Mikey rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him.
"They could have killed you..." She whispered, "Killed you all just because Frank slipped up... it's... it's..."
"It's massacre," Said Ray shortly, and Alicia sobbed loudly.
"Thanks, Ray." Mikey said coldly, "Want to throw in anything else while you're at it?"
"I was only saying," Snapped Ray, "Since those two are two far into each others mouths to contribute." He jerked his head in the direction of Frank and Gerard, who were sat together in one corner of their small tour bus.
"Excuse me," Said Frank curtly, his eyes blazing, "But we all know you would jump at the chance to fuck Gee."
Mikey shifted slightly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the way they spoke of Gerard. It was a new feeling, it had never bothered him before... but now it seemed almost wrong that the older Way should be in the corner with Frank at all.
"Frank," Gerard warned.
"Don't even try and pretend you're not on his side, Gerard," Ray spat, "I know you talk about me too. I heard what you said about me after the show the other day, you asshole!"
"Don't talk to my brother like that!" Mikey hissed,
"What are you going to do?" Challenged Ray, "Put a toaster in my bath?"
"Now that's uncalled for," Injected Bob, speaking for the first time that evening, "Don't you exploit that, we nearly lost Mikey."
"Yeah, well, right now I wish he would get lost."
Gerard stood up abruptly, looking livid.
"He's my little brother!" He roared, "Don't you ever, ever-"
"Stop fighting!" Wailed Alicia, "Please stop fighting!"
They all looked at her. She had seemed to grow smaller during the argument, and they had almost forgotten she was there. Tears were streaming down her face, dragging mascara and eyeliner with them, and both hands were on her stomach protectively.
"We... we can't fight..." She whispered, "We have to stay together... can't you see how important that is?"
No one spoke in the bus for the rest of that night.

The same could not be said for Brian, Caitlin, Claire and Alexa's caravan. The four of them were sat up, loudly entertaining each other with songs and jokes and stories.
"Woah," Said Brian, when he eventually looked at the clock, "It's late. Go to sleep." He commanded the three girls
"Go to sleep yourself," Mumbled Alexa, who was quite intoxicated with fatigue and laughter.
"We should," Murmured Caitlin, "Or we will be too tired tomorrow."
The caravan was suddenly deathly silent and cold again. They knew what Caitlin had just said really meant: Or we will die tomorrow.

Alex Turner cradled the guitar in his hands, looking at the damage. During Brianstorm, having been denied continued ownership of his guitar strap, it had slipped from his hand and cracked right along the back. He had swore into the microphone, but picked it up and carried on playing obediently.
"This is SHIT," He said aloud now, stroking the splintering fracture.
"Only just noticed?" Jamie Cook sighed wearily, massaging his forehead, "Alex, this whole world has been shit for a whole year."
"We're moving on tomorrow," Called Matt Helders from another part of the caravan, where he was towel-drying his wet hair (he had just received his weekly bucket of ice cold water), "Where are we going?"
"Well where the hell are we at the moment?" Groaned Cookie. Alex suddenly sat up, so sharply he made Jamie jump. The guitar fell to the floor with a thud.
"What?" Said Matt urgently, running into the room. Alex looked up at him, his face haunted.
"Where's Nick?" Matt palened.
"I thought... he was in here with you..."
Alex jumped to his feet.
"Search the fucking caravan! Wake Bob!"
Jamie ran into the small and useless bathroom (it wasn't connected to any water source), flicked on the light and shook the person lying in the bath, wrapped in a blanket. "Bob" was a teenage girl, curled up, her short, auburn bob rested on a sweater that had been bundled into a shape that vaguely resembled a pillow.
"Charlotte!" Shouted Jamie, "Wake up!"
She opened her eyes groggily and blinked into the light.
"Jamiewhatisit?" She mumbled incoherently.
"We can't find Nick." Charlotte sat up, Jamie's words sinking in. She climbed out of the bath as quickly as she could, the blanket knotted around her ankles. She tripped, and nearly fell, but Jamie caught her and lifted her onto the floor. They ran through into the main part of the caravan, and met eyes with Alex, who shook his head. He flung open the door and jumped onto the cold grass. He ran towards a silhouette on the ground, and was horrified to see what it was. Nick's bass, splattered with dirt and blood.
"NICK!" Alex screamed into the night.