The Collector

It was bacon. If anything was going to do it, it was going to be bacon. It had been so long since Kobra had smelt it, if asked, he wouldn’t be able to describe it but the moment the sweet and salty aroma was in the air he recognised it like an old friend. His eyes fluttered open only to meet darkness. Pulling the covers down, he squinted in the early morning light filtering through the window. Looking around at what he could see without moving, he noticed that Ghoul had risen already. Kami was nowhere in sight, but it was clear from the scent of food and the faint occasional clattering noises coming from the kitchen, that she was cooking breakfast.

“They better not have started without me,” he grumbled as his stomach growled loudly.
“How can you possibly be that hungry?”
Kobra rolled over in the makeshift bed only to see Jet checking the battery levels of all but Kobra’s gun. Alongside him stood a small pile of recently charged spare batteries.
“What?” Kobra objected. “We ate like… what? Eight hours ago?”
“We ate like kings eight hours ago,” Jet corrected.
“It’s not my fault,” Kobra frowned. “It’s the bacon.”
“Ah! Pig related blame?”
“'Can you resist bacon?” Kobra pressed.
“I don’t plan to,” Jet replied with a conspiratorial smirk. “I really need to know where she gets her supplies from!”
“You and me both,” Kobra nodded his agreement as he pushed the covers back onto his bed and got to his feet, stretching out his muscles.

Kobra turned following Jet’s glance and raised his eyebrows as Ghoul entered the room holding a bowl and a fork.

“Oh, it’s a tricky one, isn’t it?” Kobra grinned.
“Certainly is,” Jet nodded his agreement.
“What is?” Ghoul frowned as he noticed both men staring at him with amusement clear on their faces.
“What do we comment on first?” Kobra began, earning a deep scowl from the younger man.
“Well, he’s clean,” Jet offered.
“He’s very clean,” Kobra agreed with a grin. “And his hair… Has it always been that colour?”
“Very amusing,” Ghoul narrowed his eyes. “Where's Red?” He added brightly, smiling as Kobra turned a wary eye towards him.
“Not sure,” Jet replied. “Haven't seen her since I finished my watch. Maybe she's having a shower?”
“Maybe? Anyway, I was coming in to wake you up, Kobra. Kami’s ready with your breakfast. You and Jet go through, if I see Red, I'll let her know.”
“What about you?” Jet asked with a tilt of his head.
“I’ve eaten… well,” he pointed at the bowl with his fork. “Nearly finished.”
“What have you got there?” Jet asked, stretching his neck to try to view the contents.
“Mango,” he smiled broadly, tilting the bowl to let them see and enjoying the sight of Jet’s eyes popping.
“Mango!”
“In the kitchen,” he nodded, “go on, leave me in peace!”

Almost dropping the gun he was checking onto the table with the others, Jet leapt to his feet and grabbing Kobra’s arm, dragged him toward the kitchen. Kobra glanced back at Ghoul as he took a seat in one of the couches that had been pushed back against the wall. Popping another slice of mango into his mouth, Ghoul smiled again and offered Kobra a brief wave.

“You can come out now,” Ghoul called with a chuckle. “Jet’s gone.”

Slowly the covers of Kobra's bed moved and were pulled down, revealing a mess of blonde hair and a pair of wide blue eyes.

“How did you know?” Red’s voice sounded slightly muffled beneath the covers.
“Maybe I’m not as innocent as Jet? Maybe I know Kobra? Or…” he paused with a twinkle in his eyes, “maybe you’re not as quiet as you think you are?”
“I’m sorry, Ghoul!” Red sighed, pushing her hair back from her eyes. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I know,” he chuckled. “But it’s okay, it was educational. I had no idea it was possible to be that flexible and I did ballet! But, I am going to try that thing Kobra does with the balancing… looks fun!”

The cushion was already flying through the air before he had finished his sentence and he laughed as he batted it away just in time to stop it hitting his bowl.

“Hey, missy! Don't mess with my mango!”
“Well I’ve never heard it called that before, but okay,” she grinned as she pushed back the covers.
“Noooo!” He cried in exaggerated concern and made a show of turning away and covering his eyes as she rose from the bed.
“Ghoul, I’m dressed,” she pouted at the dramatic response, waiting until he lowered his arms. “You’ve spent far too much time with Party! His ‘diva’ is rubbing off on you!”
“That’s not all he rubs…”
“Ghoul!” Red’s voice grew shrill as he dissolved into a fit of giggles.

The sound of running prompted Red to leap from where she still stood on top of the bed and she pretended to be packing it up.

“See what you’ve done,” she hissed as Ghoul continued to laugh helplessly into his bowl.

Only moments later Jet and Kobra skidded into the room, both had their guns drawn and their expressions served only to make Ghoul laugh harder, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them as tears dripped onto his knees.

“What’s wrong?” Jet asked hurriedly, misinterpreting the tears and sounds Ghoul was making. “What’s happened?”

Kobra lowered his gun and drew himself in from what he knew had become his ‘ready to attack’ stance. Perhaps it was Red’s exasperated expression that gave him away, but Kobra knew almost immediately that Ghoul was enjoying one of his more childish moments, probably at his expense given that he had no doubt seen Red emerge from the bed.

“Jet,” Kobra slapped his arm gently. “It’s just Ghoul and his playground humour. Let's get back to our breakfast. Coming Red?”
“I was just packing the beds up,” she replied, one of the corners of the fabric still in her hands.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ghoul desperately biting his lip and genuinely trying not to laugh. He didn't want to invite awkward questions from Jet or even Kobra. Forcibly calming himself, taking several deep breaths and lowering his legs.

“Sorry, guys,” he finally managed. “Didn’t mean to worry you. I made myself laugh and couldn't stop. Thinking about Party, guess I'm…” he sighed as his voice cracked and trailed off.
“It’s okay, man,” Jet nodded and smiled sympathetically. “We’ll be heading out soon. He’ll be back with us before you know it.”

Ghoul forced a smile. It seemed strange to him that only moments earlier he had laughed uncontrollably and yet now as the subject grew serious he could barely force his lips upward. How much of him, he wondered, was really him and how much was overcompensation, emotions exaggerated by the war?

Red turned a concerned glance toward him and felt that she noticed for the first time how small he seemed. Her first impression of him when she had met him was of him being short, yes, but somehow he had never seemed small. There was something about Ghoul that filled a room - his smile, his enthusiasm, his compassion. He had a larger than life personality and a laugh to match, but now she could see past the humour - the front, the wall that obscured the pain and insecurity that wanted to make him invisible instead of invincible.

“I’m just going to finish packing this away and I’ll join you in a minute or two,” Red pointed to Kobra’s makeshift bed. “Go on.”
“Sure?” Jet asked. “Well don’t be long, I can’t guarantee I can stop him eating everything.”
“Hey!” Kobra slapped Jet’s arm again, but harder this time. “I’m not that bad!”
“Yeah, Kobra, you are!” Jet grinned. “See you in a couple of minutes then?”
“Yeah, won’t be long,” Red smiled as they turned to leave, but as soon as they were out of the door she dropped the fabric and was kneeling at Ghoul’s side.
“Hey? I have broad shoulders, I can help.”

Ghoul stared, his eyes stinging, trying desperately to hold back the tears that wanted to force their way out. He had expected her to ask if he was okay or possibly even give a pep talk. He was prepared for either of those possibilities and was ready to brush them off with his usual casual flair. He was not prepared for the empathy in what she actually said. Lowering his eyes finally as once again tears fell.

“I guess I'm going to have to up my game if I'm going to hide stuff from you, aren't I?”
"Oh, dear sweet Ghoul,” she smiled sympathetically as she took his left hand in hers. “You can't. I'm a woman, it's what we do. But we know when you don't want it advertised too. You can always come to me."
"You actually have very small shoulders," he smiled. "I guess I'll fit perfectly."

*

Battery City had long since left the rear view mirror and Fielding noticed that finally her shoulders had settled back into their usual position, having managed to let the tension go. Now approaching the small town of Nystad she called to Party still sitting on the floor in the back of the car leaning against the car door.

“How are you doing, Gerard?”
“I'm okay,” he replied. “I’m drawing. I found a pen and some paper.”
“Oh? What are you drawing?” She asked, relieved that he had found something to take his mind off everything he had suffered.
“I’m drawing a picture of my best friend, Frankie, we go to ballet together.”
“Ballet? Do you want to be a dancer?”
“No, not really,” he replied thoughtfully. “I want to be an artist, but BLI don't do art classes. They consider art to be threatening, like it's some sort of weapon.”
“But ballet? Dance is an art.”
“Not the way BLI teach it.” Party rolled his eyes and continued in a high pitched voice mimicking a haughty sounding teacher. “Ballet is for exercise and nothing more. The world does not need dance. Living a productive life is enough.”
Fielding smiled. “Who’s that? You’re ballet teacher?”
“Yeah, the high and mighty Mrs Brighton, takes her pills that stop her fighting. Used to be a world class dancer, now thinks BLI’s the answer.”

As Party reached the end of his little rhyme, delivered in a singsong fashion, his voice tapered off to a serious, saddened tone.

“It’s the tablets, it must be,” he sighed. “How could someone give up on their art like that?”
“You don’t think like that?”
“No,” he replied with surprise at the question. “Art, in all its forms, is beauty. It's the answer to every question. It's the reason I breathe and the life in my soul.”
“That’s beautiful, Gerard,” Fielding smiled in the rear view mirror even though neither could see the other. “I can see art means everything to you.”
“Well, art, Mikey and Frankie. Not necessarily in that order.”
“What order would you put them in?” She asked, now curious.
“Well,” he chuckled. “That depends on who I'm with at the time.”

Fielding laughed. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed. It was ironic, in Battery City she had everything - a beautiful apartment, money, a job, friends and she couldn't remember laughing. Now, fleeing Battery City with a wanted fugitive hiding in the car and knowing she could never return, she had found humour in the innocent words of a ten year old boy, as he believed himself to be. He had endured so much and yet he was still so strong. This was definitely not the Party Poison that BLI wanted people to believe he was.

“We’re nearly there, Gerard,” she called back to him.

Out of sight, he glanced up, somewhat puzzled.

“Already? Zone Three?”
“No,” she shook her head, “that’s just what I told the gatehouse. I'm heading for a hospital in Nystad, Zone One. I have a friend there.”
“Oh, okay.”

Fielding turned off Route Guano and headed towards the small town. She couldn't help but sigh quietly to herself. Gerard was so innocent, so trusting and probably very talented. But here she was seeking help to try to reverse the programming and return him to being Party Poison - a careworn, half-starved rebel, fighting what could be a losing battle until death or capture. It didn't seem fair. Part of her wanted him to remain forever ten years old, so he could draw and paint to his heart’s content but even that wasn't possible. He missed his brother and his friend, whoever or wherever they were now.
As she approached the hospital, the only other traffic on the road was a trans am heading in the opposite direction.

Notes

Hi lovely readers! Sorry for the delay, I'm back at uni now so I can't write as much. Studies must come first (even though I love to write, I have to be disciplined). I hope you liked this chapter. It's another quiet, character chapter but hopefully with a few nice moments.

Thanks for reading
Sas xx