Holding Out for the Wishing Well

“That was amazing.” Gerard finally said quietly as he and Kel meandered back to his house. She wasn’t letting him go home alone, not after having found him about to get beaten on so many times. Kel smiled at Gerard, her grey eyes unreadable.
“I used to miss it, being up there. I’d spend forever just staring up, wishing I could even just reach out and touch it all one last time.” Kel sighed, shaking her head, her smile wearily amused by her own folly. “But it’s not so bad down here.” The closer the pair got to Gerard’s place, the slower they walked, inching closer and closer until their shoulders were constantly brushing.
“I dunno.” Gerard admitted, staring down at the sidewalk. “It’s pretty different from what I’m used to.” He hadn’t meant to let that slip; he had to act like he belonged in Hell, or she’d find out he was a Killjoy, and then – Then what? A mutinous voice asked from the back of his mind. You wouldn’t kill her, anyway. You’d have done it already if you were going to.
“So what’s your story, anyway?” Kel asked, looking at Gerard. “How’d you skip on down to Hell in a hand basket?” Her smile was somehow simultaneously sympathetic and mocking.
“I…” Gerard floundered for an answer, a story, any sort of lie to sell, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Unlike him, she belonged here. She’d catch him. “I don’t… want to talk about it.” He looked away, shamefaced, as if sorry for something other than finding a way to lie.
“’S alright.” Kel said softly, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder as they finally came to a stop outside Gerard’s door. “I don’t talk about it, either.”
Gerard looked up to meet her eyes and sighed, then let his forehead drop to rest on her shoulder. Kel stiffened in surprise for an instant, then carefully wrapped her (under)world-weary friend in a hug. They stayed like that for a long moment, before pulling away from each other, each wondering what the Hell they were getting themselves into.
Gerard found himself leaning closer to Kel, his eyes on hers as she began to inch closer, too, when the door behind him crashed open, prompting him to turn to see what was happening. Frankie had kicked open the door, mask on and gun drawn, dead set on Kel. He didn’t seem to realize what he’d been interrupting, but his eyes blazed with anger. He blamed Kel for landing them in the underworld, convinced that if she could just behave herself in Hell, the Killjoys wouldn’t be necessary.
Gerard looked at Kel, trying to figure out how to get her away from Frank and still explain that this wasn’t what it looked like, all without arousing suspicion from his friends, but the shock had already faded from Kel’s eyes.
She shot a glare at Gerard as she stepped away from him, ducking forward to meet Frankie, who raised his gun just a little too late. Kel kicked it out of his hand, catching it neatly before kicking Frank in the chest, sending him sprawling as she pointed the gun at Gerard.
“You bastard.” She hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. “You really do belong here.” Kel’s attention snapped back to Frankie, who was yelling for Ray and Mikey. The pair burst out of the house almost immediately, guns drawn.
Kel sized them up for n instant, weighing her chances, then decided that it was a better idea to clear off. Still clutching Frank’s gun, she turned and darted off down the street, Mikey and Ray firing at her retreating back.
Kel made it a fair distance before a shot caught her in the back and she dropped to the pavement, sprawling across the cracked ground. Gerard’s eyes widened and he stepped towards her, but she was already struggling to her feet, unnoticed by the other three Killjoys, who were celebrating. Kel snatched up the gun she’d dropped, then disappeared down an alley. Less than an instant later, Ray turned to look at where she’d been and yelled indignantly.
“Bitch got away!” He fumed, and Frankie and Mikey both looked, suddenly scowling.
“She took my gun!” Frankie yelped, crossing his arms as he sulked. Then he rounded on Gerard. “What the Hell? She was right in front of you! Why didn’t you blow her fucking brains out?!”
Gerard opened and shut his mouth like a fish out of water, scrambling to think up an excuse. “She… she just came out of nowhere.” He finally stuttered. “I didn’t have my gun on me, I was just wandering around.” He continued with more confidence. “I usually never run into trouble when I go out.” He shook his head, looking after Kel. “She was fucking threatening us.”
“Well, we showed her.” Ray growled, still scowling. “I doubt she’ll survive that hit, though I’m worried about where Frankie’s gun will end up.”
Gerard swallowed, but his friends and brother simply attributed it to the fear of the gun falling into murderous hands. They’d bought all his lies, and had no idea he was more worried about Kel than one of Hell’s many cutthroats coming after them.
-
Days passed, days without any word of Kel or Frank’s caustic gun. The Killjoys took no news as good news, confirmation that Kel lay dead in one of her beloved alleyways, just another stain on the concrete.
Gerard, however, didn’t know what to think or feel. He doubted that the voice – whatever had dumped them in Hell – would leave them if they were no longer needed. Was Kel alive somewhere? Was she hurt? Was she planning some sort of attack to finish the Killjoys for good?
Lost in thought, he donned his Killjoy gear, checked and re-checked that his gun was on him, and headed out to patrol. He seemed to be taking his job seriously after the run-in with the most dangerous murderer in Hell, but all he needed was an excuse to get out and clear his head. As usual, Gerard realized it was a vain attempt; his thoughts were as muddled and unfocused as they had been since everything had blown up in his face. Why didn’t I see that coming? Why didn’t I stop it when I had the chance? Why didn- His self-pitying thoughts were cut off by a crash coming from the alley to his left, and Gerard realized he was standing next to the building Kel had taken him to what felt like lifetimes ago, where he’d rediscovered the color and music that seemed to have drained from the rest of the city.
Gerard drew his gun, inching towards the noise, trying to hear over the faint music leaking through the battered walls of the building beside him.
“It’s cars first, it’s dust tonight before the vampires come alive…” The lyrics were muffled, but intelligible as they wormed out into the dirty night air. Gerard tried to ignore them, inching forward. He could see a dark heap farther down the alley, but something felt off about it. A trashcan was on its side, another tipped haphazardly to lay on top of something that was concealed by the cans and the rotting cardboard box it had fallen on.
“She’s screaming, ‘wake up!’” The music continued as Gerard leaned over the heap of trash, gun ready by his side. “Is anyone else getting fed up…” He could see more clearly now, that it was a person sprawled among the trash, unable to get up. “Holding out for the wishing well to pull us from the wreck?”
“Hey, are you-” Gerard began, but he cut himself off when the person in the wreckage moved. He caught a small streak of scarlet, a flash of grey eyes, and then the barrel of a green gun pointing at him. He froze, staring down the gun into the grey eyes of the girl holding it. Kel was glaring at the mask-wearing Killjoy, her eyes empty. Gerard had no doubt that she was going to pull the trigger then and there, erase him forever, but suddenly Kel’s eyes screwed shut, and a spasm of pain raked through her body, making her drop the gun as she shuddered in the filth. She coughed, and dark blood came up, spattering on the ground, blending in with the muck around her.
Gerard stepped on the gun, sliding it towards him and took his mask off as he reached down to pick up the weapon. “Kel, what happened?”
Kel forced her eyes open, glaring at Gerard, and spat more blood at his feet. “I didn’t make it home. Others found me, ones who don’t like that I took charge when I finally made it here.” She tried to force herself to her feet, but just collapsed back into the trash. With a frustrated growl, Kel slammed her fist onto the ground, then began coughing again.
“What happened? I didn’t think you were hurt so badly.” Gerard said, trying to move closer, but Kel lashed out at him.
“I wasn’t. It got infected.” She forced out between coughs, and Gerard studied her face carefully, seeing that she was even paler than normal. Kel was trembling, and she couldn’t even get up.
“Climb to the roof to watch the drag race sunset, beneath the power lines. It’s cars first, it’s dust tonight before the vampires come alive…” For a moment, only the chorus of the song being played inside sounded in the alley, until Kel tried to get up again.
“Kel, I’m going to take you back to your place.” Gerard said softly, reaching out for her, but Kel swatted his hand away.
“I don’t need your help, you filthy, lying, bastard Killjoy.” Kel snarled, managing to get onto her knees with momentum lent by her anger. She swayed, and Gerard caught her before she could fall. “No, let go!” Kel growled, trying to fight free. “Get the fuck away from me!”
Now that he was holding her, Gerard could feel the fever burning through her under the coat of icy sweat. He didn’t let her get away as she fought, her struggles becoming weaker and weaker as she coughed.
Gerard stood up, carrying Kel, and looked down at her somberly. She’d passed out from fighting him so hard, unwilling to give in. She hated him that much.
He sighed, then pulled his mask back on, heading off to the condemned building she called home.