Senseless Indulgences

BY : Lucidia89
Category: My Chemical Romance > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 976
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction. I do not profit from this story monetarily or otherwise. I do not know MCR, nor do I own the Danger Days universe. I do however own my OC's, so no stealing them, please.

A/N: For those of you who know the Danger Days universe the guys created with the new album, this should be pretty familiar. For those of you that don't know, this should be an interesting ride. To provide a tiny bit of explanation for those of you guys that don't know, Party Poison is Gerard, Kobra Kid is Mikey, Fun Ghoul is Frank, and Jet Star is Ray. You should be able to figure out what's going on from my fic, but if you can't and need an explanation, let me know and I'll provide an explanation in an author's note at the beginning of chapter 2. I'm still working on chapters 2 and 3, so it may take a bit to get them up, but I do have a huge portion of this written. I scene jump when I write, so that's why that works.... I'm in this story, but I don't show up until later chapters and I'm really not all that important. I don't know how much you're going to see me in this, so don't expect much from me. :) If you want to read it somewhere else that has a better explanation, copy this address. --> http://www.mychemicalromance.com/blog/solariel89/senseless-indulgences-chapter-1 If you're not already a member of mychemicalromance.com and you love MCR, I strongly advise becoming a member. It is truly a fantastic community to be a part of! Anyway... Without further ado, I present to you chapter 1 of Senseless Indulgences.
 


 


BL/Ind was the bane of her existence. A misguided attempt at bettering society, all BL/Ind managed to do was create a world of mindless drones. They would buy anything, do anything if you told them it was for the greater good. Obviously, the opportunity was too good to pass up once it had been realized. A world of people who did whatever you wanted whenever you wanted…? Who wouldn't want that?

How was it possible? Thought adjustment and medication. It prolonged human life and made certain they could never think for themselves. Hell, it had only been three months since she escaped and she already felt more like herself.

"Medicine. Hah!" she thought bitterly, not realizing she'd spoken aloud. "More like poison."

She roamed the barren wastelands of California looking for some sign of life. For three months she had yet to find anyone else. Her mind had begun to clear, but some things were still fuzzy. After a while, she began to see the clues- minute traces of human activity. They were difficult to follow at first, but as the years of "medications" wore off, they were easier. Day by day, the further away from Battery City she got, the more her head cleared, the more clues she found. Pretty soon, she could see campfires in the distance.

She was running out of food. She'd only brought so much and it was disappearing fast. She still had several miles to go before she would reach the campfires and, by the looks of it, they were heading the same direction she was, so that would make it even longer. She quickened her pace and rested less often, traveling by night as well as day.

She realized that she had underestimated the distance between Battery City and the nearest populated area. Sure, she knew about the Zones and that there were people roaming all over the place, but she hadn't really thought it would take this long to reach anyone- anyone alive anyway. A couple weeks back, she'd run across some old skeletons. She shuddered to think how they died.

She kept walking, keeping the campfires ahead of her. She noticed that they were steadily getting closer. She began resting a little more often, but mostly to eat. She ran out of the food she had brought and settled for killing whatever rodents she could get her hands on. She wasn't sure if they were diseased or anything like that, but she ultimately reasoned that the starvation would kill her long before the disease would, so she'd take the risk.

After another two weeks of walking and damn near starvation, she finally saw the people who had made the closest campfire. She thought she was hallucinating at first, but then she started to hear their voices. They seemed to be discussing something on the radio. She couldn't tell who they were, what they were talking about, but they had food and water and that was enough. She stumbled her way toward them, the last four and a half months taking their toll. She made it to within the light of their campfire before she passed out, knocking over one of their packs.

***

"Do you think we'll find anybody?" Kobra Kid questioned, the firelight reflecting off his blonde hair as it fell over his forehead.

"I don't know," Party Poison, his older brother, replied. "But Dr. Death seems pretty determined to keep broadcasting. He seems to think they'll all come this way."

"How could anyone escape that place?" Fun Ghoul looked at his two friends. "I mean with us, it was one thing. But it's been seven years. If they haven't left already, they never will."

Jet Star looked up in time to see a young woman stumble in their direction, just outside their little camp. "I wouldn't be too sure," he said, pointing their attention her way. As if on cue, the woman passed out, falling in front of Party Poison's pack, knocking it over.

The four companions rushed to her aid, pouring water down her throat and on her face, hoping to raise her from her pained slumber. "We need to get her to Dr. Death," Fun Ghoul stated. "We need the car."

"Got it!" Kobra Kid rushed out of sight. A moment later the remaining three friends were bathed in the glow of headlights. Normally, they'd save the car for daylight travel only, but this was an emergency. They put her in the back seat where Jet Star and Fun Ghoul tended to her. Party Poison drove while Kobra Kid helped him navigate in the dark.

They reached the familiar diner that served as Killjoy headquarters in record time. Party Poison jumped out to warn Dr. Death while Kobra Kid, Jet Star, and Fun Ghoul rushed the girl inside and laid her on a table.

As Dr. Death Defying and Party Poison took care of the girl, Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid busied themselves with keeping watch for stray Dracs. Jet Star settled for observing the girl lying on the table. She was in what used to be a white BLI housecoat. Her pants were tattered and stained with dirt and blood. What remained of her shoes hung off her feet exposing her heels and her toes.

He walked over to her feet and pulled the tattered fabric off. They were scarred and bloody from walking for so long with so little padding. Her knees were scraped as well as her hands and some on her face. This clearly wasn't the first time she had fallen and most likely not the first time she'd lost consciousness.

Her hair, which was probably a shade of brown or black, was so caked with dirt that it looked like one solid lumpy mass. Her eyes and cheeks were sunken in due to emaciation and she was bruised all over from living the life of a refugee.

Party Poison and Dr. Death Defying concentrated on cleaning and treating the wounds on her face and hands when Jet Star decided to get some buckets and water to wash the dirt out of her hair. Fun Ghoul stood vigilant at the front of the diner while Kobra Kid watched over the back.

"Stop right there!" Kobra Kid yelled, his raygun aimed at the face of a dark figure standing just outside the glow of the diner. The figure halted. "Who are you!"

"Relax," a younger man's voice bit in reply. He stepped out of the shadows so Kobra Kid could see him, arms raised to show he wasn't holding a weapon, though he had a raygun strapped to his side. "It's me."

"Jesus, Lost," Kobra Kid exhaled, lifting his raygun so he wouldn't accidentally shoot. "What are you trying to do? Get yourself shot?"

"Well what about you?" Lost retorted. "You got the whole damn place lit up like a fuckin' Christmas tree! You want to announce our presence to every Drac in the fuckin' zone?"

As the man stepped into the doorway, Kobra Kid turned and took a step inside stating, "We had a bit of an emergency."

When Lost saw the woman lying on the table, Jet Star was cleaning her hair and the other two men had moved on to her legs and feet. "Dracs get to her?" he asked, leaning on a nearby booth.

Kobra Kid turned back to the doorway, resuming watch. "No. By the looks of it, she came from the city."

The younger man stared at him with widened eyes. "You're joking." Kobra Kid shook his head. "How'd she get out?"

"Don't know," he shrugged. "We didn't see her until she passed out and knocked over Party's pack." He motioned to the table, "Jet Star saw her first."

"She looks almost dead."

"We had to bring her in the Trans." He looked sullenly out into the darkness. "I think she would be if we hadn't."

"D'you think there are more?" Lost gestured out at the distance, "Out there?"

"Maybe. Dr. D seems to think so." He sighed heavily. "He's hoping that his transmissions will bring the others hope."

"Well they brought hope to us. They showed us there were others like us out there. I guess they could bring others in, even if it's been so long since the last ones."

"Yeah." Kobra Kid gestured to the girl on the table, "I just hope this one means there are others that want to escape."

"Well, what else would it mean?"

"That she's the last."

A heavy silence floated between the two men. Lost watched the three killjoys as they continued to care for the girl while Kobra Kid stared solemnly out at the dark.

Jet Star managed to coax the young woman into a semi-conscious state, enough to allow her to eat and drink some. He'd seen other refugees in similar condition, but she was the worst he'd seen in a long time. The elements had really taken a toll on her. He started feeding her slowly, testing her strength. When she managed three small bites, he sat her up further and fed her while Party Poison supported her weight. To keep her mouth moist, he washed down each bite with a small sip of water.

After half an hour and enough food to feed a small child, they laid her back down and let her fall asleep. They turned off all the lights in the diner and kept watch on the outside.

The night passed by without incident. The men slept in shifts, always keeping two awake to keep an eye on the outside. The girl stirred in the night, eliciting paranoid glances at the outside from whoever took watch, but she managed to sleep soundly throughout the night.

Come dawn, she had rolled over onto her side and nearly fallen off the table. Jet Star hadn't slept a wink, keeping a watchful eye on her. He caught her before she could fall. He laid her on her back again and shifted her into the center of the table. She had broken into a cold sweat and grown restless. Jet Star immediately transferred her to a booth and grabbed several blankets and a damp washcloth. After he wrapped her up he folded the washcloth onto her forehead and sat next to her for the entire morning until the others awoke.

"Hey, Jet," Party Poison's voice was groggy with sleep. "You sleep at all?"

Jet Star shook his head. "Couldn't sleep." He readjusted the blankets. "She's got a fever. I've been keeping an eye on her."

Party Poison patted his shoulder. "Well you go lay down and get some sleep. I'll take over."

The brunette sighed and nodded his head, reluctantly relinquishing his seat to the redhead. He trudged over to a booth nearby and sprawled out. He closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep.

Kobra Kid walked up behind his brother and eyed the girl in the booth. "Taking over watch?"

"Yeah," Party Poison sighed. "Jet didn't sleep. He watched her all night."

"Well, he's sleeping now."

"Good. Leave him that way." He glanced over at his friend. "The last thing we need is for one of us to get sick. And with his bleeding heart, he's liable to do it."

"Yeah," Fun Ghoul started, moving toward his friends, "but I think, in this case, his bleeding heart is actually in the right place."

"Maybe, but we can't afford to take another risk like we did last night." He turned around and stared hard into his friend's eyes. "Lost was right. We practically lit up a beacon with what we just did. We can't risk doing that again." He hung his head and sighed. "Even if it is for a good cause."

Kobra Kid stepped up to his brother. "In Jet's defense, we all decided to take the risk. Even Dr. D. Any one of us could've spoken up and said no at any time. We all knew the risk and we took it anyway."

Party Poison looked back at the girl behind him. "Next time, we have to do what we can out there, then bring them here when it's less of a risk."

"If there is a next time," Fun Ghoul added glumly.

The girl stirred in her sleep, mumbling softly, pain etched on her face. The men could've sworn they heard her call someone's name in her sleep, but she was speaking so softly, it could've been anything. Jet Star awoke at around noon, the girl about six hours after that. She still had a fever, but it appeared to have broken.

"Where am I?" Her voice sounded like she had gargled with glass.

Jet Star mopped at her face with the damp washcloth. "You're somewhere safe." She sat up and coughed lightly. "My name's Jet Star. This is Party Poison, Kobra Kid, and Fun Ghoul," he gestured to his friends behind him. "The two men talking over there are Lost Star and Dr. Death Defying. What's your name?"

She looked up at the men, puzzled. What the hell kinda name is Jet Star?! "What?"

"Our names?" Fun Ghoul asked, inwardly smirking at her naïveté. When she nodded he explained, "We abandoned our given names when BLI took over. We, the killjoys," he gestured to the six men in the room, "created our own names that BLI can never exploit. If they know who you are, they can hurt you. Anonymity is our greatest ally right now."

"It's also our way of being colorful," Party Poison added.

"Oh." She didn't really understand, but she would only get even more confused if she tried to think about it. "The only name I have is Chris."

"Chris?" Fun Ghoul's eyebrow raised a little.

"Short for Christine."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Chris." Fun Ghoul extended his hand and she shook it, examining the men before her. They were all dressed in blue jeans and various colored leather jackets. She glanced at a table nearby and noticed several masks and a couple helmets. She didn't know who wore which one, but then again, she really didn't know much of anything. BLI really didn't let a whole lot of information out into the public.

She looked back at the men. Two of them had disappeared into the back of the diner, but the first four still remained. Jet Star had bushy brown hair that looked like it'd swallow anyone within five feet of him. He had a full face with plump lips and dark brown eyes. He was large, compared to the others, but Chris surmised that was due to bone structure more than eating habits. He looked healthier than the rest, but the hard life of the Zones was clearly imprinted on his features.

Fun Ghoul's black hair fell almost to his shoulders and hung loosely about his face. His hands were tattooed and she could see more creeping up his arms and on his neck. Like Jet Star, his face was full and round, but there was a weariness in his light brown eyes that caught Chris by surprise. He was shorter than the rest, but he had a presence unlike anyone she'd ever met. He may not have looked like much, but she could tell he was not the kind of man you wanted angry with you.

Kobra Kid's brown hair was dyed blond, hanging messily over his eyes. The manner in which it fell across his face, Chris figured he usually kept it slicked back. He was just as tall as Jet Star and Party Poison, but he was clearly younger than the two. His face was thin and showed a confident defiance, yet there was an innocence that seemed to linger in his hazel eyes.

His brother, Party Poison, looked like he'd had black hair at some point, but now it was dyed such a bright red it hurt Chris' eyes just looking at it. He was the skinniest of the four and clearly the one they all looked to as leader. His gray eyes looked haunted and his thin face showed he'd aged beyond his years.

The sight of the four men filled her with both sorrow and wonder. Life out in the Zones had done a number on them, but they survived by sticking together. Their bond was clearly stronger than friendship. Their lives after 2012- and possibly before- had made them brothers.

Party Poison eyed Chris quizzically. Her thin pale lips were pursed in thought and her bright blue eyes were squinted in concentration. She was studying them. What did she see? What did she know about them that they didn't have to tell her. She was clearly very perceptive.

Just then, a terrible thought occurred to him. Perhaps she wasn't really a refugee. BLI had tried to send out spies before. Yeah, they'd always been caught, but maybe they'd perfected their design. Maybe they realized the medicated, well fed men they'd sent out before were a dead give away. Until she proved otherwise, Party Poison would consider her dangerous.

Sensing the tension building between Party and Chris, Jet Star broke the silence. "Are you hungry?"

Chris' eyes flicked to him and she shook her head. "Not really."

"Well, I don't mean to sound like I'm pestering, but you really should eat."

"Yeah, I know. I've just got to force myself." Her eyes flicked back to Party Poison, his hard gray eyes boring into her.

"Alright. I'll go get you something." Jet Star caught Party's attention with a silent tap to his hand. He flicked his eyes toward the back as signal for him to follow. When the two were out of earshot, Jet Star hissed, "What is wrong with you?"

"I don't trust her."

"Why not?" Jet stared at his old friend in anger. "Because she notices things? Well, I notice things too! Yes, she's perceptive. She's probably seen more in us than we'd like her to, but you know what? She needs our help. And I'm going to help her."

"You haven't considered the possibility that she was sent here?"

"I don't think she was," Jet Star began before he was interrupted.

"But you don't know that!"

"Party, let me finish before you say anything." When Party crossed his arms and stared at him obstinately, he continued, "I don't think she's a spy. BLI wouldn't send their agents out with so little food."

"They would if they wanted them to look like a refugee," Party Poison countered.

"Where would they go on so little food? By the looks of it, she ran out of food weeks ago, maybe longer. Who knows what she's been eating?"

"Exactly." Jet Star scowled. Party stepped closer to his friend and spoke in a hushed whisper- quieter than the one he'd been using. "If they sent out spies, they'd be coming after us. That's a given. Dr. Death is the voice of the resistance. We all look to him. BLI takes him out, that'll seriously cripple our efforts. You know that." Party shrugged. "Sure, we could get on without him, but let's face it. He goes, we're all crushed. He keeps us going."

"We do our fair share."

"Yes, but that's through our music. Who plays our music? Who keeps us informed? Everything we know as killjoys comes from Dr. D. BLI knows this. That's why they've sent so many spies. Sooner or later they were bound to realize we were noticing the differences between their spies and the real refugees."

Jet Star's scowl deepened. "Well, either way, we can't do anything about it now. If we question her, she'll just deny it. She doesn't strike me as the type to be completely open and honest with anyone." Party nodded. "So, what do we do?"

Party pinched the bridge of his nose. "I guess we use her."

"How?" Jet wondered. "It's not like we've got much to go on."

"I know." Party groaned. "For now, let's just treat her like a refugee, but keep her at a reasonable distance until we know for sure."

 



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