Chapter Text
Party paces back and forth, grabbing random items around the diner as Ghoul trails after him. The mid-day sun shines through the diner’s windows, curtains pulled back to let the light in. Ghoul was trying to get him to listen, to take a breath and actually think before he rushed out once again. He has delt with an impulsive boyfriend long enough to now that he needed to stop Party before he actually leaves. No good could come if Ghoul lets him out of the diner.
He loves Party, more than he loves himself, but the moment he gets into the sand, Party would burn heaven and hell to get to the runner who’d sold them out.
And while the dude deserved it Party would end up burning himself up in the process. Metaphorically. Maybe.
It’s been exactly four months since they rescued Ghoul and Jet from BLI-ND’s hold. A very long, healing four months but things still aren’t perfect.
Things probably won’t ever be perfect. Or back to normal really.
Ghoul still has night terrors and refuses to sleep alone, Party thankfully claiming the spot beside him every night. Together, they’re able to fight off the worst of the dreams and memories. Most.
Still, progress is progress and Ghoul wouldn’t trade it for anything.
They were all learning still. How to live after this.
Jet and him have become inseparable, doing everything from raids to joy rides together. The two of them often leave early in the morning and go on day long drives, ones where Party and Kobra had no idea where they go. It’s just one long, fast, drive through the desert to vent and escape.
Party’s trying his hardest as well. He knows this.
That’s why he’s listening to Ghoul right now. Mostly.
He stops in his tracts, a raygun in his hand, and lets Ghoul finish his rant.
“Really, Party, I know you want revenge, we all do, but you need to wait.”
Ghoul is trying to not get upset, knows how much this subject hurts for the both of them.
“Why?” Party asks quietly.
Their runner, or ex- runner he guesses, sold them out. It was his fault Ghoul and Jet were captured, tortured. It was his fault that Ghoul wakes screaming most nights.
It was the runner who condemned Ghoul to suffer. Jet to suffer. His family-
No.
Party doesn’t want to wait and Ghoul understands completely.
He wants to run, take their new car and book it to wherever the runner is.
But he can’t.
Sighing, Party drops the gun onto a nearby booth. He drops down into the seat, scooting over until there’s enough room for Ghoul, and lays his head down on the table.
“He deserves to pay,” Party says through his teeth.
“I agree but we should do it together. The four of us against him. I want to get revenge too Gee but we have to do it side by side.”
When Party doesn’t answer, Ghoul scoots closer, pressing their sides together and laying his head on his shoulder. He melts against Party, his warmth bleeding through their layers. It’s hot as fuck outside but he doesn’t mind the contact.
He nearly lost this.
Nearly lost him.
“You okay?” Ghoul asks under his breath.
“Yeah,” he answers, “I’m good. We’re gonna make him pay.”
“Absolutely. Very painfully.”
“Are you okay?” he asks, turning to face Ghoul a little.
“Yeah. I just- I wanna make him pay for what he did to us- to me.”
______________________
Ghoul slams the car door as he gets out, stepping out into the sand. His feet sink a little into the soft grains, making him twist his ankles a bit in order to stay steady.
The barn in front of him is old, falling apart. There’s a large hole in the wooden roof, rafters visible from where he’s standing.
Why their runner chose this place for their meet up, he wasn’t sure.
Party is beside him in an instant, not touching likely because they’re on a mission but close enough for comfort. If he moved his arm just the slightest their hands would be touching.
Kobra and Jet’s door slam next, the two of them moving to stand beside Party and him. Jet is to his right, giving him a silent question to if he’s okay.
Meanwhile, Kobra and Party are talking silently.
They all look to Party at the same time though and he nods for them to move forward.
Walking in together, Ghoul tries to keep his mind from wandering. The last thing he needs is to go into a full blown flashback and be unable to confront their runner.
So, he steels himself. His expression is blank but only just hiding his fury and terror. His brain is a mess right now but that doesn’t mean he has to show it.
Surprisingly, Party’s hand finds its way into his own. There’s a gentle squeeze as Jet knocks twice on the old, wooden barn door. Party doesn't pull away and Ghoul wonders if he knows how much he’s helping him. He feels better instantly, safe and protected just the way Party manages.
The door swings open, the runner's face popping out. He smiles when he sees them, ushering them inside.
“How the hell are you guys?” he says energetically.
Ignoring him, mostly because he can’t look at the guy in the eyes without shooting him on the spot, Ghoul looks around.
The inside of the barn is completely stripped, the only thing left is a few support beams that look nearly broken. There’s no hay or anything, not anymore. Sand lays everywhere though, piling in small dunes in the corners and wherever else it can get. So everywhere.
“Ghoul?” the runner says and Ghoul realizes he’s not been paying attention.
“Yeah?”
It feels forced but he keeps his expression blank, disinterested.
“I said, how’re you feelin’? I heard you went through some shit in the City.”
How fucking dare he?
It takes everything in Ghoul not to launch himself at the man. Ghoul may be small but he can tear him apart if he wants to. And fuck how he wants to…
“Fucking shiny man,” he grits, Party’s grip on his hand is nearing painful.
He relishes in it, shows him that he’s not alone.
This is by his rules. If he says shoot, they’ll shoot.
Jet also has heavy sway in this situation, or he would but he said that it’s entirely Ghoul’s decision. Of -fucking- course it is.
He wants to give the signal now, to have Party and the others tear the runner to shreds.
But more than that- Ghoul wants to know why.
Why he could sell them out, could condemn them to the shit they’d faced, and still be able to look at their faces and smile the way he is right now.
“Soo,” the runner starts awkwardly, “whatcha need t’ trade?”
“Just our normal things. Some food, battery packs, and a bit of info.”
Ghoul tries to keep his voice level, to not betray his mild fury currently encompassing his entire train of thought. He must do well because the man is once again grinning wildly, nodding like he knows exactly what they want.
“Ah. Well I give information if I get info. Ya get me?” he asks, pointing to Ghoul and Party’s intertwined hands.
“Nope. Not for sale.”
Ghoul can’t hide the grin from Party’s clipped tone. It’s good to know he’s not the only pissed off one. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Kobra with his arm ghosting beside his own gun, the same is true for Jet.
“Ah too bad. Them’s my rules.”
“Why are our personal lives important to you?” Ghoul demands angrily.
“Ooo. Sensitive subject I see. It dosn’t really matter but I was just curious. Ya know two… people... such as yourselves…”
The words hang in the air and Ghoul just about sees red. How fucking dare he-
“Got a damn problem?” Party questions viciously, one hand now hovering over his own gun.
Their runner takes a step back, hand up in surrender.
“Whoa man- I see it is a sensitive subject. Look, I know you went through some shit but to revert to this-”
“Shut the fuck up,” Ghoul growls, finally pulling his own gun.
Now the runner steps back more, right against a support beam. Good. He should be fucking terrified.
“Why?” Ghoul continues, his gun not even shaking in his hold.
He’s beyond pissed right now, all fear pushed so fucking far out the window.
“Why what?”
Knowing his game and not letting him play innocent, Ghoul pulls his t-shirt sleeve up a little, revealing his shoulder. Most of the administrations of the drugs were done on his right shoulder, Korse literally stabbing him with the needles. They’d scarred.
“Why?” he repeats, voice low.
“I-”
“Don’t play dumb. Why’d you fucking sell us out?”
The runner’s eyes go wide, his face filling with fear before forcefully shifting back into a neutral expression. Ghoul wasn’t falling for it.
“I didn’t sell anyone out.”
“Bulshit,” Ghoul counters the runner’s smooth words with his own bitter ones, pulling from Party’s hold and edging closer to the runner.
“Look-”
“No. No explanations. The truth.”
He’s going to give him a chance, a chance to come clean. As much as he doesn’t want to, he has to. At his words however, the runner’s facade drops. He grins smugly up at Ghoul, eyes shining now.
“Money.”
Ghoul is pressing his gun against the man’s temple in seconds, pushing so hard it’s bound to leave a mark just from the force. This man helped Korse, helped the exterminator to torture and nearlly kill him. His information is likely what got him and Jet captured and he can’t fucking forgive this.
Especially if it was for something so material as money.
“Wrong god damned answer,” Ghoul spits, his index finger now against the trigger.
“Whatcha gonna do Frankie boy? You gonna shoot me?”
His grip slackened at that, with the shock of his real name being spoken.
Using Ghoul’s temporary lapse in concentration, the runner pushes the gun away from his head and it lands on the floor somewhere behind him. Too soon for him to act, the runner’s own gun is pulled and aiming right at Ghoul’s chest.
“What, you don’t think Korse shared information too?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jet demands angrily, Ghoul nearly turning to look at him but deciding against it.
The blaster pointed at his heart is not something he should look away from.
“Drop the gun,” Party demands behind him.
His voice is strong but Ghoul knows him, can hear the fear creeping in.
“And why should I do that? You won’t shoot m-”
The runner falls, a bright laser beam passing right through his skull. Ghoul takes a staggering step back, partly in surprise as he tries to process-
Hands wrap around his shoulders, turning him away from the still smoking runner. Party wraps him in a tight embrace, holding him close to his chest and pressing his lips against the top of his head. He grips tight around Ghoul; both of them are shaking.
“Oh my god. Are you okay?” Party suddenly says, pulling out of the hold to check for any wounds or anything.
He’s fine.
He’s fine.
He’s fi-
Fuck. Isn’t he supposed to be breathing?
“Hey. Hey- no- Ghoul you’re okay. You’re okay,” Party pleads, pulling Ghoul right back against his chest.
Eventually, they get his breathing under control and avoid a full fledged panic. His brain is still moving too fast for him to actually think.
Korse is gone. The person who was the literal hand that tortured him has been dead for months. Static killed him themself, saving Party’s life in the process.
But now. Now the runner is dead too. He can no longer give out their info. He can’t sell anyone else out because his brain is currently burned to a crisp.
He’s- he’s oddly relieved.
They’re safe now.
No one can threaten the people he loves.
Party can’t be taken from him next. Neither can Kobra or Jet or-
Fuck. They’re actually safe.
“Oh my god I love you,” Ghoul mumbles, pulling himself partially out of Party’s hold and crashing their lips together.
He kisses back after just a moment, pressing Ghoul as close to him as he can. When they finally break apart to breathe, Party runs a gloved hand over his cheekbone.
“I love you too Ghoul,” after a moment’s pause he adds, “are you sure you’re okay? You just nearly had a panic attack and I-”
“Yes. I just- I realized we’re okay now. All of us. We don’t have to worry about him anymore. Or Korse and- we’re safe,” he finishes quietly.
Party smiles brightly, full of affection, down at him.
“We are. We’re safe Frank. You’re safe.”
He takes a deep breath, trying to dispel the lingering fear that’s still creeping around in his mind.
“I know,” he says at last.
Kobra hugs first, damn near tackling Ghoul in a hug from behind. Jet follows and Party just keeps his arms around his middle.
Being squished in with his family, Ghoul has never felt more safe.
He misses Grace, her taking a long weekend at Pony’s for their little trip. When he gets back, maybe he’ll have a whole day out with her. Listening to music and singing at the top of their lungs.
“So now we can write another album right?” Ghoul jokes, grin breaking at last on his own face.
It doesn’t feel fake or even forced. This is his family and it is- finally- safe.
“Uh- I don’t know dude,” Party starts, Ghoul feeling him shake his head.
“But you love screaming into mics!”
“Maybe after we play this one some more,” Kobra chimes in with a light laugh.
“Ghoul?”
He turns the best he can to face Jet, noting the seriousness in his tone.
“I love you dude.”
Ghoul smiles once again, knowing the weight behind those words.
He’s home. His family is safe.
Damn it- how is he so fucking lucky?
“Come on idiots, lets get home,” Kobra says, pulling away first and waving Party’s keys as he walks towards the barn entrance.
“Wha- how?” Party says in shock, patting his pockets down.
“Magic,” Kobra turns to say, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Dick!”
“Hurry yer asses up or I’ll leave ya’ll here!”
Ghoul laughs, connecting his hands with Party’s once more as they walk back to the car.
Safe.