Before They Were Fabulous

“I know you can help him, Doc,” Edward replied, keeping a firm hold on the struggling boy.

Death Defying wheeled from behind the desk and eyed the angry and defiant young boy.

“Probably,” he narrowed his eyes. “But why would I? He is BLI. He’d have us killed without a second thought.”
“No he wouldn’t,” Edward countered.

Behind the gag, Gerard tried to scream something that might have been, ‘Yes, I would!’. Death Defying raised a hand as if to indicate that his point had been proved for him.

“Not when he’s himself,” Edward sighed. “He’s not like that. He doesn’t believe in BLI. His indoctrination failed.”

Gerard stared at Dr Death Defying; his narrowed eyes and stance suggested that Edward’s words couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Well, we could use him as bargaining,” Death smirked.
“No,” Edward replied firmly. “You get him off this drug or I take him back.”
“And get yourself killed?” Death tipped his head, evaluating his former tactical advisor. “Are you playing me, Eddie?”
“No,” came the quiet reply. “This kid...” he paused. “He can make things happen, but only if he has a clear head.”
“What things?” Death scoffed. “He’s thirteen.”
“Maybe not now, but when he grows up... if he grows up. You know what’ll happen to him if he stays on Kanslokal... at his age.”

Death Defying shook his head and lowered his eyes smiling.

“You are fucking playing me, Eddie,” he sighed.
“Sir, you can help him,” Edward begged. “Please!”
“If you’ve brought dracs to our door, Eddie...”
“I haven’t,” he replied firmly.
“You haven’t lost your touch, have you?” Death asked, taking a deep breath. “How long has he been on it?”
“Thank you, sir,” Eddie exhaled with relief.
“I haven’t said I’ll do it yet,” he reminded his former sergeant gruffly.
“If I had to guess, five months minimum, maybe six.”
“You’re guessing?” Death’s eyes widened. “I thought you said you knew?”
“I know it’s happened, but I had to get proof to be sure.”

As the pair were talking, Gerard stopped struggling. There seemed little point; where could he go? They were out in the desert, who knows where? His hands were tied behind him, his ankles also bound, but with long enough rope between them to allow him to walk reasonably comfortably and, of course, he was gagged. Added to that, everyone knew his face, he wouldn’t last five minutes on his own if he did manage to escape.

“Five to six months?” Death took a deep breath as he considered the effect of the drug on someone so young.
“Yeah,” Edward replied, sounding both deflated and disheartened.
“You know he’s most likely not going to be himself again, don’t you?”

Edward grimaced; had he left it too long? Had he placed his friends in danger? Would Gerard ever be the boy he once was? If not, who would he be? Had BLI finally succeeded with him?

“What’s the prognosis?”
“Paranoia, mistrust, recklessness? It’s likely that certain traits he used to have... emotional stuff... will be heightened. What was he afraid of?”
“Needles,” Edward shrugged.
“Oh, well, he’s not going to like the cure.”

Gerard’s eyes widened suddenly and he took a step back, almost colliding with Edward, suddenly reconsidering his chances out in the desert. Almost as if he sensed it, Edward took hold of his arms and held him firmly.

“He’s very protective over his brother. There’s something else behind that, but I’ve never found out what.”
“You couldn’t find out?” Death smirked. “Never thought I’d live to hear that,” he laughed. “Yeah, well be prepared to see that stepped up to a whole new level.”
“You’ll do it?” Edward asked hopefully.
“Take his gag off,” Death instructed.

Edward began untying the knot, wondering why he wanted to speak to the boy. No matter what he said, the response was unlikely to be positive.

“So, Gerard, how do you feel about being here?” Death asked.

Gerard licked his dry lips with an equally dry tongue; he very much wanted his words to sound strong and defiant, but he knew that his voice was unlikely to be at its best.

“I’ve been taken by rebels before,” he croaked, much to his annoyance. “I’m still alive and they’re long dead. Don’t think your wheelchair will afford you any sympathy. You’ll burn and swing like all the other rebels and I’ll be watching.”
“He’s a real charmer, isn’t he?” Death chuckled. “You sure this is worth it, Eddie?”
“You know that’s just the drug talking, Colonel,” Edward pleaded.
“He must mean a lot to you.”
“He does,” Edward nodded. “I’ve taken care of him for three years. He’s not...”
“Okay, okay,” Death waved a hand. “I believe you. Help me get him on the gurney.”

Edward looked at the gurney to his right, noting that it was fitted with restraints and they were open and ready for the patient. Gerard too had noticed and had begun to struggle once more. He was no match for the trained security guard and within moments, he had been scooped up and deposited on the gurney. Leaving his hands tied, Edward held his legs down as Death Defying fastened the restraints around his ankles.

“Let go of me!” Gerard screamed, trying hard to pull his legs out of Edward’s strong grip.
“Feisty,” Death chuckled, as he fastened the first buckle on his right ankle.

Edward rolled his eyes as the comment infuriated Gerard only making him fight harder to get free. Realistically, there was already little he could do, but the mocking tone of the doctor just made it harder to restrain him. Lifting his hands from Gerard’s legs, Edward began untying the ropes that were still fastened around his ankles.

“You think we can finish this first?” Death asked, astonished by Edward’s actions.
“I just... Yeah, sure,” Edward sighed, dropping the rope and moving up the gurney to Gerard’s wrists. “I’m going to have to untie him to get his arm to the edge of the gurney.”
“And when you do, you won’t be...”

Gerard’s eyes widened as he turned his head to look at Death Defying. Even Edward’s eyes widened as he saw the doctor withdrawing a syringe from Gerard’s arm.

“What did you do?” Edward asked alarmed. Knowing of Gerard’s aversion to needles, he was shocked to see him use one so quickly.
“You think I’m going to let him hurt himself, or us for that matter? If he fell off the gurney, he’d break both ankles!”

As the pair talked, Gerard grew still and, whilst still conscious, he seemed either too weak or disoriented to fight.

“Just a mild sedative,” Death explained. “Probably won’t even knock him out.”

Edward nodded; it hadn’t even occurred to him that Gerard could hurt himself.

“But, it will wear off quickly,” Death warned, “so let’s get on with it.”

Quickly untying the rope around Gerard’s hands, he was taken by surprise as the boy turned droopy but clearly terrified eyes towards him.

“Don’t leave me here, Edward,” he slurred, his eyes welling with tears. “Please!”

Lowering Gerard gently onto his back, the two men each took one of his arms and fastened them securely into the restraints.

“Edward!” Gerard pleaded, his tears flowing freely. “Don’t leave me here! I... where’s Mikey? Edward!”

Edward stood back, pale and shaken as Gerard continued to cry, pulling weakly on the straps holding him to the gurney. Slowly, his breathing and tears slowed as he drifted into a sleep. On the opposite side of the gurney, Death withdrew a second syringe and took a deep breath.

“That’s a good sign,” he nodded.
“What is?” Edward asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“He accessed his true self.” He nodded. “He’s still in there.”
“How do you know that wasn’t an act?” Edward asked, having witnessed Gerard’s impressive acting skills first-hand.
“Saltafem.” He replied in a blunt, unapologetic tone.
“You used a truth drug on him?” Edward leaned over Gerard, placing his hands on the side of the gurney, astonished by the admission. “And an unapproved one at that?”
“Of course it’s unapproved!” Death snapped. “BLI don’t want anyone having access to the truth, do they?”
“What if it’s dangerous?” Edward countered shaking his head, still in disbelief.
“What? More dangerous than having him here?” Death nodded sharply towards Gerard. “These are dangerous days we live in, Eddie. I’ve already come too close for comfort. I’m not in a hurry to do it again! I’m a good doctor, but I’m not called Death Defying because of all the people I’ve kept alive. It’s because against all odds, I survived what put me in this chair and I’m not throwing that away for anyone. Least of all the face of BLI. I hope you’ve got a plan and a stash of carbons, Eddie, because even if I can get him clean, I don’t believe he won’t bring the Crows straight here! When we’re done here, we’re finding somewhere even you can’t track us to!”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Edward replied, his eyes lowered. “I care about him. I had to try. I promise you, he’ll surprise you.”
“Yeah,” Death grumbled. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

*

Frankie held a pen across his mouth almost like a horse’s bit and another of a different colour in his hand as he scrawled quickly in a notebook. At least, Mikey assumed it was scrawl - none of whatever he was writing made any sense to him. Symbols, letters, numbers, words that meant nothing to him. Frankie was engrossed in his task as he hunched over the laptop almost possessively, his eyes closer to the screen than Mikey thought necessary or even comfortable.

“What are you doing?” He finally asked.
“Ih ee uh ih ih,” Frankie replied, not moving his eyes from the screen.

With a slightly irritable sigh, Mikey pulled the pen from Frankie’s mouth and moved closer to the boy’s eyeline as the action drew his attention for a moment.

“What are you doing?” He asked again, with his eyebrows raised in an expectant fashion.
“I said give me a minute,” Frankie replied with a frown.
“No, what you said was: ‘Ih ee uh ih ih’,”Mikey corrected, still waiting for an answer.
“Same thing,” Frankie replied, holding up a hand to signal for his friend to have a little more patience.
“What are you doing!” Mikey’s voice rose in both pitch and volume at the third time of asking.

Frankie sat back in the chair, closing the laptop and ripping out the pages he had used in the notebook with a triumphant flourish.

“Done!” He smiled, proud of himself. “Burn these,” he added, pushing the papers into Mikey’s hands.
“Burn them yourself,” Mikey growled, irritated that the younger boy was apparently refusing to tell him what he had done.
“Oh, don’t be such a grouch,” Frankie grinned.
“What. Did. You. Do?” Mikey leaned on the table and asked once again in a pointed staccato fashion.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Frankie shrugged playfully.
“If you don’t, I’ll kill you!” Came Mikey’s frustrated response.

Frankie rose from the chair chuckling at his friend’s aggrieved tone.

“You won’t kill me,” he laughed.
“Oh? And why do you think that?”

Mikey stood upright, folding his arms and adopting his most intimidating pose. Momentarily, Frankie’s reaction made it appear that it had worked, drawing a smug smile from the younger Way brother.

“Because I’m in your head, Mikeyway,” he laughed again as he tapped Mikey’s temples. “I know where all your buttons are!” He added gathering up the papers and heading for the kitchen to burn them.
“That’s because you put them there!” Mikey shouted back. Now beyond frustration, he flopped into a chair and into a gloomy, sulk.

Mikey rolled his eyes as the smoke alarm in the kitchen began to wail. Pushing himself out of the chair, he ran to the kitchen.

“You’ll have half the security team in here if you’re not careful!” Mikey scolded, switching off the alarm and snatching what was left of the papers from Frankie’s hands. “I’ll shred them.”
“Might be best,” Frankie nodded, struggling to appear sheepish with the playful smirk threatening to show itself at any moment.
“You’re...” Mikey began angrily, but freezing as he saw his friend’s wide-eyed expression as he took a step back. “You’re welcome.”

Mikey forced a smile to reassure the younger boy. He was still irritated by Frankie’s ability to get under his skin, but relieved he had enough self-control to notice the boy’s automatic reaction to anger and was figuratively kicking himself for almost telling him he was useless, as his guardian had done so often - usually before, during or even after a beating.

“I... I’ll tell you what I did,” Frankie stammered still tense and shaken.

Mikey’s eyes widened slightly. What had that selfish, evil and cruel bastard done to this sweet, caring boy?

“Not if you have to kill me after,” Mikey broadened his smile, pulling Frankie towards him for a brief, playful hug, relieved to feel him relax in those few brief moments. “Come on, let’s have some coffee and you can tell me what your brilliant and devious mind has been up to.”
“Okay,” Frankie smiled brightly as he looked up at his friend. Somewhere inside, he struggled with the reality that he could have such caring friends, but he relished every moment.

Feeding the pages into the shredder, Mikey looked up sharply as he noticed the elevator starting to head down to the ground floor; it was almost certainly Jakob returning.

“I have to call Korse,” he spoke in a grim tone. “Prepare yourself for an Oscar winning performance.”

Notes

Hello lovely readers!

I hope you enjoy this chapter. All the main players are starting to meet each other, but there’s a long way to go yet.

Thanks for reading! You’re gems!

Sas xx