The Perfect Foundation

The breakout happened in a blur of running and shouting and praying that Gerard's distraction of a riot would work.

This was how Gerard found himself pulling the boy from solitary alone, chest burning from too much running and excessive amounts of stress. They boy was barely conscious and absolutely filthy, covered in layers of dirt congealed with sweat and makeup, and probably other bodily fluids that Gerard didn’t really want to consider right then. He tried to be gentle, he did, but desperation won out and he half-ran back towards the north gate, boy cradled as safely as he could manage, hollow breath on his neck. He was powered by adrenaline and felt like a super hero, reaching Frank in record time.

“Is he the last one?” Queries the dark-haired man, appearing surprisingly formidable with his fighting stance and baseball bat, “He’s not..?”

“No, not yet anyway. Those bastards nearly killed him though. I dunno how long he was in that cage. I don’t wanna think about it!”

“Get him to Jon. I need to wait for Ray and Spencer. When they’re back we’ll be off.”

Gerard nodded jerkily and ploughed ahead with his load until he reached Jon’s van. He couldn’t knock so he shouted his friend’s name until the back door was flung open.

“Jesus!” Exclaimed the team doctor, “What happened to him?!” Jon leapt down to take the boy’s torso carefully, while Gerard took his legs and between them they manoeuvred the kid onto the spare bed, on which the other was Ryan. Woken up by the intrusion he was peering blearily at them in the artificial lighting. Jon was checking Fiver’s vital signs methodically, but his face was awash with pain and concern.

“He’s alive.” Gerard leant precariously on the floor of the van, the adrenaline beginning to turn into nausea.

“Will he make it to the safehouse?”

“I hope so.” Jon checked every part of the boy unconditionally, swift but precise in his movements.

“He’s seriously malnourished, his blood sugars are non-existent, he’s severely dehydrated…for someone so young. I need to get a drip in him immediately.”

With Gerard and Ryan’s help they secure a multifunctional drip and then get on with bandaging his cuts and bruises and carefully removing his crusty clothes, to replace them with clean blankets.

As Jon smoothly wiped the dirt from the boy’s thin face, Gerard felt something like white hot fire wash over him and he had to press a hand to his heard because it was labouring hard. He tried to drag in breaths but it didn’t seem to be working. He saw bright spots before his eyes and world began to fade.

“Gerard? Gerard?! Gerard!”

Jon had his arms around him in an instant and was positioning his head between his knees, telling him to breathe slowly. In, and out. In…and out….eventually Gerard felt his body return to functionality again and he raised his head to look at the boy prone on the bed opposite.

He couldn’t believe it. After all these years, he had just found him, completely by accident. He’d just presumed he had died, along with the others. Obviously he had been wrong. Totally, totally wrong.

“I…I-, He tried to form the words, but they were caught in his throat.

He pointed at the boy, then grasped at his hair uselessly, before stating hoarsely: “I-I know him.” Jon’s head flew up from where he was disinfecting the boy’s chest.

“What?”

“I-I used to go to school with him, before Hell Week. We were…friends.”

“What’s his name?”

“Brendon. Brendon Urie.”

“Right,” The doctor leaned in to Brendon’s ear and said softly:

“Brendon, if you can hear me, my name is Jon and you are safe. I’m going to make you better.”

The only response was a slight change in breathing rhythm which showed that he had allowed himself to sleep, properly and deeply. Gerard felt as though his heart had been pulverised and he just kind of stared blankly at the frail boy lying across from him, only reacting when the van began to move.

“Yes!” Jon smiled in relief and perched on the edge of Brendon’s bed, resting his hands on his knees and looking over at Gerard and Ryan.

“We must have everybody.” Said the red-haired man dully, knowing he should be feeling elation – and it was there somewhere – but buried under layers of other things: horror, exhaustion, relief, anxiety…terror.

“I’m almost free.”

Murmured Ryan weakly from Gerard’s right. That focussed Gerard somewhat and he turned to the boy with a genuine grin on his face.

“That’s right.” Ryan smiled back, although it was more disbelieving than anything.

“We’ll be in LA before you know it. And then you can do exactly what you want. I ain’t gonna tell you what to do. Ever.”

“Where are we staying?”

“I was gonna ask you if you wanted to stay with me and Mikey, actually.”

“In your house?!”

“Well, not at first, but after a few months yes. You and…Brendon.”

“I’ll stay in the safehouse with you guys,” Jon confirmed, smiling, “I gotta keep an eye on you two.”

“And the other kids.”

“And them too. It’s going to be quite a challenge.”

“I sorted everything out. There’s gonna be one safehouse and two doctors: you and-.”

“Spencer.”

“Right, and Ray, Frank, Mikey and me’ll be around to help out.”

“Don’t forget to keep up appearances in LA.”

“I know, I know. I’m just gonna have to draw loads of comics of you guys until we can feasibly ‘Go on vacation’ without attracting too much attention.”

“You’re barely going to last the week.” Predicted Jon jovially, although he knew it was partly true.

“I’ll hold it together.”

“How long we gonna be in the safehouse?”

“For as long as you need. You can leave whenever you want, I mean, I’d prefer you to be well first but the choice is yours. Completely and utterly your individual choice.”

“I’m so tired,” yawned Ryan, “But I’m too psyched to sleep.”

“I know what you mean.” Agreed Gerard.

“We could play a game?” Queried Jon, “We didn’t think about this did we? In-van entertainment!” Gerard laughed.

“How about…I went to the store and bought-.”

“Jesus, Jon, what are you, like, 3 years old?”

“Hey! It’s a long time since I’ve been able to play stupid games.”

“You know what, I totally know what you mean. Fine, I went to the store and bought an…Armadillo.”

“Boring! Choose something else!”

“God you’re so picky, jeez. I went to the store and bought an A-bomb?”

“Not funny.”

“Aristotle?”

“You can’t buy Aristotle!”

“Axe. Heeere’s Jonny!”

“Hilarious. I’ll start.”

“No, let Ryan start. I bet he has some good ideas!” Ryan smiled despite himself and thought about it for a minute.

“I gottit. I went to the store and bought an Armada.”

“Awesome! I went to the store and bought an armada and a baby.”

“Dude you’re sick. I went to the store and bought an armada, a baby and a…cannibal.”

“This is some weird party we got goin’ on here. I went to the store and bought an armada, a baby, a cannibal and…a dandelion.”

And so the game went on, until Ryan had fallen asleep, closely followed by Gerard. Jon stayed awake to make sure Brendon survived the journey and they reached LA several hours later. Jon made a changeover with Spencer,who had at least had some sleep and promised to be back down in a couple of hours.

The next few days were hectic, filled with lots of patience – on everyone’s part- lots of wrong moves and apologising – on everyone’s part, lots of awkwardness, shyness, tears, drama, more apologising…and then everyone in the mansion of a house began to settle down into a routine.

A few weeks passed since the breakout when Gerard and Mikey finally got the chance to drive up from LA under the guise of their ‘vacation.’ It was ironic, then, that after only a few days of being there, Brendon woke up.

It was a pretty uneventful day. Gerard arriving had cheered the kids up somewhat and they had all come down to dinner to thank him again and he had replied in drawings of them all, but especially Ryan where he’s drawn a full colour picture of him as a super here in pseudo-victorian-renaissance-like clothes.

He gave it to him in private though, so as not to embarrass him in front of the others. Gerard knew he would always have a soft spot for Ryan. Being the first kid he saved ‘n’ all. He and Mikey had stayed up talking for a while before his younger brother had gone to bed and now he was making himself a hot drink in the kitchen quietly so he didn’t wake anyone up when Jon appeared in the doorway.

“Hey,” whispered Gerard, smiling, “Do you want a drink?”

“No, you’re okay. I just wanted to tell you: Brendon’s awake.”

“He is?!”

“Ssh, yes. He seems fine, if a little groggy and weak. But that was to be expected.”

“I wonder how much he remembers.”

“You mean of school, or-.”

“Oh no, I meant the escape. But I don’t know. He might not remember me. If I was only 14 he would have been what…11?”

“That’s pretty young.”

“I know. It’s okay. I won’t keep my hopes up.”

“He’ll want to meet you anyway I’m sure.”

“Why?”

“You’re the one who saved him, remember?”

“Actually, I think you’ll find it was you who saved him.”

“It was your idea Gerard. They haven’t been out long enough for you to see the effects of it but you will – eventually.”

“They all seem so unhappy…”

“They’re not, they just find it hard to open up. They were tortured, Gee, in many ways. Raped, beaten, forced to perform against their will-.”

“I know that, that’s why I set them free. But I suppose nothing can take away what happened to them.”

“Nope. Not even freedom.”

“It sucks.”

“Yeah.” They stood in silence for a moment then Gerard said he was going to bed, but thanked Jon for telling him.

“You can see him tomorrow.” Jon whisper-shouted after him as Gerard began to climb the stairs and Gerard spent a lot of the night wondering what Brendon might think of him before he finally got to sleep around 4. For that reason he slept in and was woken up at 12 by Mikey.

“Gee, get up,” he murmured affectionately, sitting on the bed and pulling the covers unceremoniously off his brother.

“Eeurrrgh.” Was Gerard’s response and Mikey laughed, getting up to wave a steaming mug of coffee under Gerard’s nose.

“I made you coffee. Now get up!”

“Jeeez, I’m up already.” The older man levered himself into a sitting position, swinging his legs onto the wooden floor. He yawned, looking far too young in his baggy comic-book t-shirt and hair that resembled a seriously trippy bird’s nest. Mikey pointed out the coffee on the bedside table and left.