“We all gotta die,
But tonight we'd sell our skins to meet you right,
We all gotta try...”- F.T.W.W.W, My Chemical Romance

---

This is it. After five months of planning, the day has finally come to put our rebel-approved plan into action.

Step One: transform into the rebels that everyone knows and loves. For me, that included cutting my waist-length hair to my shoulder and dying it bright blue, and getting a few tattoos; I actually liked the last part a lot more than I thought I would. For Mikey, however, the process to turn into the Kobra Kid was a bit more complicated: he had to cut and dye his hair as well, but he also had to get contacts and get his nose pierced.
We also had to find things to wear. Gerard had really thought of every aspect of our Killjoy characters; not just the way they look, but what they wear and how they act. Halsey and the Kobra Kid were already more-or-less just like us already, but we had to become a bit more outgoing. The outfits were very clearly planned out and explained— Halsey's is a pair of black, ripped jeans, a tight black, cropped shirt, a black studded denim vest, and black combat boots; and Kobra's is a yellow and brown sleeveless shirt, black jeans, a red patterned leather jacket, and black boots as well. The hardest part was getting the pattern on the back of Kobra's jacket correct but, in the end, it was worth it.

Step Two: figure out how to get him out. Mikey and I have visited the prison so many times, some to inform Gerard about our plan, and other times to investigate and figure out the best way to execute the plan. In the five months, we also decided— per Gerard's request— to break Frank out as well. It didn't add much more difficulty to the plan, so we figured out a way to add Frank into the escape plan.

Step Three: execute the plan and get the hell out of Battery City. Dr. Death told us about his safe haven in Zone 5, and said that the trip shouldn't be more than two-and-a-half hours.
That posed a problem. None of us have any cars— hell, Mikey and I don't have licenses— but Dr. Death said that he 'knew a guy' and, about two weeks ago, he rolled up one day in a muscle car with a black rebel spider painted on the hood. He never told us where he got it.

Mikey, in the last few months, has taken to staying at my house. He was always over anyway, and he thought it to be easier than traveling across the city every day.

That's how I woke up today— with Mikey Way poking my face. "Ash," he says. "Ashley. Wake up. We gotta leave."

"Fuck off," I mumble, rolling over and shoving my face in my pillow.

"C'mon, Halsey," a different voice says. "We let you sleep all day." Fucking Dr. Death.

"Fine," I grumble and get up from the bed, rubbing my face. I quickly change into my Halsey clothes and drag my brush through my hair.

"Alright, team," Dr. Death says once I get downstairs. He leans up on the counter and says "What's the plan?"

Mikey rolls his eyes and groans out "This is the third time you've asked me today!"

"I'm so nervous, I'm about to shit myself, so I need to hear that you know the plan," Dr. Death says firmly.

Mikey rolls his eyes again. "Fine. Step one: Ashley— Halsey, sorry— you and I force our way into the place. You keep the guards and shit distracted while we go get the dudes. Step two: Halsey gets... Poison and brings him back to the car, where I should already be with... Fun Ghoul, seeing as the cells for prisoners whose names start with 'I' are closer to the exit that the 'W' cell block. Step three: you get in the car and we get the hell out of there."

"Good boy, Kobra," Dr. Death says. He nervously taps his fingers on the countertop, listening intently to the news.

"... And in Battery City, we can expect a pleasant 72 degrees tomorrow," the news says. "Now, we go to a new segment, Rebel Watch, which will play every day at 8:00PM."

"8:00," Mikey says. "We gotta go."

"No, wait," I say. "I wanna listen to this."

"We've received a tip that two rebels have been spotted in the Neon District. These rebels, calling themselves Halsey and the Kobra Kid, are not believed to have weapons, but citizens are still reminded to take caution around these individuals," the show says and Dr. Death gives us each a pointed look.

"Hear that?" He asks. "You're famous."

"We also have reason to believe that these rebels have taken two citizens hostage," the show continues and Mikey tries to hold back laughter. "22 year old Ashley Frangipane and 20 year old Michael Way have gone missing within 24 hours of the rebels being spotted. If you spot these citizens, please call the toll-free hotline, and we'll deal with the issue."

"We only made the most drastic changes yesterday," Mikey points out. "How the hell did they already report us missing?"

"Someone in this neighborhood cares 'bout you, Halsey," Dr. Death says and I smile. "We need to get going if we want any hope of getting to Five today."

I nod and turn off the radio, leaving only the porch light on. We plan to come back to my house for a few seconds to gather some alternate clothes for Gerard to change into. I follow the boys out the car and slide into the passenger seat, opening the glove box and pulling out all of the contents. I toss a pair of leather driving clothes to the backseat for Mikey and slip my own pair on.

I also hand him a white Individual. Dr. Death got them for us about three months ago, with the promise that they would protect us against Draculoids or Exterminators. "This is really happening," Mikey mumbles, taking the gun from my hand. "I'm really about to break my brother out of a federal penitentiary."

"It is happening, Kobra, so I suggest you stop doubting it and live in the present moment," Dr. Death retorts and I laugh.

"Oh, jeez," I exclaim. "Drag the bitch, Dr. D."

"Thank you, Halsey," Dr. Death says and smiles at me. For such an intimidating man, he has a very nice smile.

By now, we're a few miles away from the prison, and my heart is beating so fast, it almost hurts. Dr. Death is pressing the gas pedal a little harder than necessary, making us fly down the road. All too soon, we're pulling up to the massive building, parking in an alley in-between the cell blocks and the police station.

"Let's do it," Dr. Death says and all three of us get out the car carefully.

"Wait," Mikey says and hugs me tightly. "Just in case."

"In case of what?" I ask, hugging him back.

"One of us gets caught," Mikey says. He places a kiss on my forehead and squeezes extra hard before he lets go.

I nod and accept the purple bandana Dr. Death is trying to put in my hand. "Just in case you to make an impromptu tourniquet," he explains and I shove the fabric in my back fabric. "You never know. We gotta take precautions."

"Good idea," I say and Mikey reattaches himself to me, picking me up as he hugs me.

"Please, just get Gerard out of there," he whispers in my ear. "Don't worry about me and Frank, we can hold our own. Just get my brother to safety. Please."

"I promise, I will," I whisper. "If you let me go, we can get him out and away sooner."

"Alright," Mikey says finally, letting go of me. "Let's do this."
I follow him around to the front, Dr. Death tailing us.

"Remember, don't shoot anyone unless you have to," Dr. Death whispers and, knowing that he's talking to me specifically, I nod. And with that, we push into the building.
The man whose name I remember being Ryan is behind the counter, and his eyes widen he sees us. "Get down on the floor, and we won't shoot," Dr. Death says calmly, training his gun on the man.

Ryan stares at me for a few seconds before sinking to the floor. "Go on, now," Dr. Death says, turning to look at us. "Shoo."

"You don't have to fuckin' tell me twice," I say and speed down the hallway, trying to remember the route. Two lefts, a right, a left, another right, straight, two more lefts, straight again ... And here I am, in Cell Block W.

"I'm looking for Prisoner Way!" I shout, drawing the attention of everyone. "Where are you, motherfucker?"

"Ashley?" A voice says, a bit to my right. I quickly make my way over to the cell and see Gerard, gripping the bars of his cell door. "Ash, is that you?"

I quickly shoot the lock off of the door and wrench it open. Then, almost as if my body is working on its own, I grab the back of his neck and kiss him hard. He stands shocked for a few seconds until his arms wrap around my waist, lifting me up to meet his height. "Get it, Way!" One of the other prisoners yells and a few others wolf-whistle.

"Ash, holy... It is you," he whispers once I pull away.

"Okay, Party Poison, here's the deal," I say, with as much sarcastic emphasis on his name as possible. "I'm Halsey. Not Ash. Ya got that?"

He stutters for a few seconds, trying to find an answer. "Got it," he says finally.

"C'mon, Kobra's probably already waiting for us," I say and grab his hand.

"Later, Wentz," Gerard calls to the man who had yelled a few minutes ago, giving him a small salute. The man named Wentz is a few cells back, and I can tell that, even from this distance, he is the shortest man I have ever encountered.

"We need to leave—" I start but my sentence is interrupted by sirens going off, long low beeps puncturing the air. "Shit," I mumble and start running back down the hallway, Gerard on my heels. "You didn't need anything from your cell, did you?"

"Will I need a box of wax crayons and a sheet of blank paper?" Gerard asks and laughs. "You're seriously breaking me out of prison."

"And your little friend, Frank, too," I say and I can practically hear the grin grow on his face.

"Dr. D! Go time!" I yell as I pass him. He's still got Ryan on the ground and he gives Gerard a look like he can't believe Gerard's really in front of him.

"Right," Dr. Death says and turns back to Ryan. "Well, Mr. Ross, it's been fun. But we gotta go."

I shove the door open and sprint out, making sure Gerard is following. We make it to the car before Dr. Death, but both of us notice the same thing at the same time.

"Where is Kobra and Ghoul?" Dr. Death asks, stopping in front of us.

"The sirens went off and I booked it out of there," I say, pushing my hair behind my ear. "Stay here with Poison, I'll go get them." Before either of them can object, I dash back in.

"Ryan, I swear to God," I threaten, barely looking at him as I pass by. "If you call security on me, you'll regret it."

I push the door open with my shoulder and try to recall where Cell Block I is. Halfway through the route that I think is correct, I come across the two missing men.

I correct myself from earlier: this is the shortest man I've ever come across. Seriously, I'm taller than this Frank guy. "What's the hold up?" I ask, skidding to a stop.

"No time, we gotta go," Frank says quickly, grabbing my wrist and pulling me after him, Mikey tailing us. "There's guards on our asses and—"

"Duck!" Mikey yells behind me and Frank and I drop to the ground. I hear the whine and click of the laser gun being cocked and the loud blast as a white laser issues from the gun. It hits a white-masked guard that rounded the corner a few second earlier square in the chest and he stares in wide-eyed shock at the three of us. A Draculoid— shit.

"For the love of God, Frank, move," I hiss, standing up. He quickly stands up as well and starts back going forward.
Not soon after that, I hear the familiar sounds of the Drac guards and all three of us break into a run.

We break out into the lobby and rush out the door, feeling the warm April air hit our faces. "Don't stop, move, go, now," I say in one breath and surpass Frank, my hair flying behind me as I run.

I fly into the backseat of the car through the window, doubling over to catch my breath. "Halsey, you okay?" Dr. Death asks from the front seat, peering at me in the rear-view mirror.

"Peachy," I reply, my chest heaving.

"Can you catch your breath?" Gerard asks next to me, placing his hand on my hip. I nod and he adds "Good," before pulling me up and connecting our lips again.

"God, I've missed you," I say once I pull away. "I love you, Poison."

"Love you too, Halsey," he says, pressing his forehead against mine.

---

"Alright, y'all've got half an hour in there, max," Dr. Death says. "And please don't go in there and fuck each other. We ain't got time for that."

Mikey snickers in the passenger seat and Gerard leans forward, swatting his brother's head. "We weren't going to," he defends himself.

"Sure, say that all you want," Mikey says, still laughing.

Rolling my eyes, I pull the door open and leave the vehicle, slamming the door behind me. "C'mon," I say to Gerard and motion towards the house. "30 minutes. We gotta hurry if you want that cherry red hair."

Smiling, Gerard follows me to the kitchen door and I wrench it open, letting it slam shut behind me.

Gerard stops walking and turns to look at me. "God, it's really you," he whispers. "You broke me out of prison."

"That I did," I say. "Your clothes are upstairs." I start towards the stairs but Gerard grabs my wrist, stopping me. He moves his hands down to my waist, gripping it tightly.

Suddenly, he pins me against the wall, kissing me with enough force to make up for the half a year of kisses that he missed. His tongue slides across my bottom lip, asking for entrance. Curling my fingers in his shoulder-length hair, I open my mouth and his tongue immediately starts to explore.
His hands grip my thighs and he pulls me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He got strong in prison— go figure, that stereotype is right.

He moves his face down to kiss my neck, sucking and nibbling the skin, leaving red marks everywhere. "Gee," I stutter. "We have to-to dye your hair."

"You're right," he purrs finally, his mouth against my neck. "I'm still gonna kiss you, even with that hair dye setting in. I have to make up six months— 130 days— of kisses and I intend to give them all to you in these next 30 minutes."

20 minutes later, that's exactly what he's doing, sitting on my bedroom carpet with me straddling his waist. He kisses me everywhere, on my face and neck, and my shoulders and chest, even down to my exposed stomach. I know that he's leaving lovebites in every location, but I don't care.

"It's been 10 minutes," I whisper, looking at the clock. "Go rinse that shit out."

"I'll be right back," he tells me, standing up and leaving to my bathroom, not bothering to shut the door behind him.

I scramble to stand up and quickly find the outfit that's Party Poison's, and I put it on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the blue leather jacket and gray jeans. The sound of the sink starts and Gerard asks "Could you come help me out here?"

I quickly make my way into the bathroom to find him bent at an awkward angle, trying to wash his hair in the sink. "Take a shower," I tell him, turning off the tap. "And before you ask, no, I'm not getting in the shower with you."

"Stay in the room, at least," he begs, standing back up. The wet ends of his hair fling red-diluted water onto my mirror and I nod, handing him a small towel to dry his hair on.

"So, can I ask about your zine?" I ask, leaning up against the painted doorjamb and watching him unzip the faded orange jumpsuit.

"What about it?" He asks and the orange suit falls to my bathroom tiles and I quickly divert my eyes.

"Just... Everything," I say. "Like, why'd you make my hair blue? And your's red?"

"Your favorite color is blue," he says simply, continuing to derobe. He reaches into the shower and turns the knob, the small room quickly filling with humidity. "And the red is for the Killjoy pills. Your blue also symbolizes something about me— at one point in my life, I was so dependent on the mood-stabilizers but now I'm dependent on you. The object changes, but everything stays blue."

"That's really..." I start and laugh a bit. "That's so adorable."
"Sure you don't wanna get in here with me, kitten?" He ask, his voice coming from behind the shower curtain. He did not just call me kitten.

"I am more than sure," I scoff. "Just rinse the shit out, we have to get going." I turn and leave the humid room, finding the package of underwear that Mikey brought as a hindsight item.

A few minutes later, Gerard wraps his arms around my waist, kissing the back of my neck. His hair is still dripping a bit but now it's the exact color that drawings of Party Poison have. He looks phenomenal.

"You lost some weight," I say, turning around and squeezing his now-flat stomach. "Like, a lot of weight."

"Isn't it amazing?" He asks, pulling his arms off of me and quickly changing. It's only when he's pulling on his boots that I answer.

"You look beautiful, Gee," I tell him. "You've always been beautiful."

"Yeah, but now I'm happy with how I look," he says, flicking his damp air behind his shoulder. "Damn, I really do look nice," he adds, examining himself in my mirror.

"We have two minutes until the guys kill us," I say but Gerard pulls me up onto his hips again, kissing me harder than before. I moan his name and he pulls away, cocking a dark eyebrow.

"Please, call me Poison," he says. "'Cause I'll get in you and fuck with you until I'm gone."

"Never say that again."

"Don't count on it, kitten."

Notes

I HAD THE WORST WRITER'S BLOCK FOR THIS CHAPTER I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT
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