A/N: It killed me inside to write this. Something honestly died; I felt it. I previously promised myself I'd never ever write anything where either Frank or Gerard died, because I'm so attached to them being together, and to be honest never thought I could write something like this. But...here it is, my first terribly depressing fanfic [that made me cry a lot while writing...] Also, this has nothing to do with any of the other Killjoy/MCR stories I'm currently writing; I just have the attention span of a…no, actually, I have no attention span at all. :P

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the song/lyrics used, called Crash by Sum 41, nor do I own any of the characters or MCR song lyrics used, OR the subtle yet not-so-subtle line/reference from the Shakespeare play Romeo and Juliet…(Ten points to anyone who spots it :D)

~Never Stop Running~

Damn Dracs are never gonna give up, are they?

Party Poison shook his head, chuckling ever-so-slightly as he shot at another one of BL/I's Dracs. He and the other three, making up the Fabulous Killjoys and more or less a family, had been attacked out on patrol, forced, by now, at least a half mile away from where they had jumped out of their car.

There were less than usual, however—only about ten. And the sole reason it was taking so long to defeat them was due to the fact none of them would—

"Fucking keep still!" Poison shouted, the gun jerking in his hand as he shot at one, managing to hit it at last. The ten, now down to seven, had somehow been able to avoid every blast, finally starting to drop as they had resorted to waiting until the Dracs came to them.

It seemed to be working, anyway.

"Poison!"

Party did not hear the cry, nor was he aware of the loud shot fired from somewhere behind him, but he felt a searing pain rip through his lower back and side, staggering and making great effort not to collapse, an arm tightly around his waist. No, he couldn't give up—not in the middle of the fight…he was their leader; he wouldn't allow them to believe he would be the one to let BL/I win. Anything would be better than that; he'd fight to the death if that's what it took. And it couldn't be that bad anyway; he'd gotten shot before and lived.

"You okay?" Fun Ghoul called, and Poison released his grip, cringing and inhaling deeply to right his vision. He couldn't distract the others by worrying for him. He himself had had his attention diverted in a fight due to another he cared for being injured, and it was next to impossible to concentrate after that. He would do anything to keep them focused on their own fight; it would only cause them to maybe get wounded themselves if they were aware he was hurt.

"It's nothing!" he shouted back, raising his gun once again and blasting at the Drac in front of him. He continued on until there was only two enemies left, and he had to trust his brother and Jet Star would handle them, as the two of them were closer. He turned to assure there were no others—and only then happened to look down, noticing there were red splotches on his boots and jeans, along with in the sand around him and in the direction he'd just come from. He almost did not comprehend what that meant until a bolt of anguish once again tore into him, and he swayed, falling to his knees and dropping his ray gun, clamping a hand over his wound again.

"Poison! Oh, God—" Ghoul grabbed his love as he reached him, everything else forgotten. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? "

"N-no. It's—it's a scratch." Party muttered through gritted teeth, refusing to remove his hand, but Ghoul frowned as he saw that the side of the Killjoy's jacket was red, that being enough to tell him it had to be a bit more than just 'a scratch.'

"Damn it," Ghoul mumbled, and then looked up at the other two. "Kobra! Jet!"

Kobra Kid and Jet merely stared at them for a moment, the last two Dracs motionless at their feet, before they seemed to realize something was very wrong, and they rushed over.

"Poison!" Kobra shrieked, kneeling beside his older brother, eyes widening.

Poison suppressed a groan, blinking up at him, and then he managed a little smile. "I'm fine…"

"Go get the car!" Ghoul exclaimed, and Jet almost stumbled in his haste to do so, darting off with as much speed as he could manage.

"We're gonna get you help, okay?" Ghoul soothed, stroking Party's bright red hair. "We'll get you to Dr. Death Defying, or—or anywhere…you're gonna be okay, don't worry."

"…Don't bother."

[Hold me now 'cause I couldn't even if I tried
It's over now, I guess it really is my time]

Ghoul blinked to hold back the tears abruptly threatening to spill over, glancing at Kobra briefly. "W-what?"'

[I don't want to go, but it's time; I gotta say goodbye
So hold me now 'cause this will be our last time]

Poison looked up at him, his watering eyes the only giveaway he was in utter agony, and Ghoul frowned suddenly, wondering if what he thought his love meant was what he really was trying to tell him. "No…no, you're okay." His voice got a bit angrier, as if he thought that would somehow help. "No! You—you just said you were fine!"

Party tensed but was too weak to resist as Ghoul finally grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his side and giving a cry. The cloth under his hand was mangled and singed from the ray gun, leaving the wound visible, bleeding heavily and alarmingly deep.

Shocked, he grabbed the bandana around his neck, wrapping it around his hand and pressing it to the wound with as much pressure as he could manage, moving his attention back to his love like he expected an explanation.

All he got was the leader biting his lip and slightly shaking his head, his small smile returning as he murmured, "I lied."

[I'm slowing down, and I don't think that I can fight
I know somehow you'll find a way to live your life]

Kobra exclaimed softly as his brother then trembled and moaned, clearly aiming to stifle it but unable to this time, glancing up at him. "Y-you know I love you, right?"

"Wh—of course!" Kobra nearly seemed offended. "I love you, too…"

The leader winced, eyeing his love. "And you…God I love you both so much…"

[Remember just to live everyday like it's your last
And hold me now 'cause I think it's time for me to pass]

"Stop it!" Ghoul suddenly demanded, placing his free arm around his neck, leaning him furthur back into his arms. "You sound like…no, you're not dying, Party. Do you hear me? I won't let you!"

[I don't wanna die, I don't know why
This kind of fate was meant for me]

Poison looked at him solemnly, silently. His gaze replied for him, however. You know you can't do anything.

Ghoul looked down at the fabric around his hand, cringing when he saw it was already darkened. "No…"

[You gotta be strong, gotta move on
It's not how it was supposed to be]

"Take care of Mikey, m'kay?" Poison finally spoke, and Kobra shook his head. "No, no, please—please don't leave me, Party…"

The sound of an engine approaching hardly registered in their ears, and then Jet was suddenly rushing beside them, bending down, looking at Ghoul. "Come on, we can make it."

"No." Party said, grimacing, and Jet looked at him, confused.

Then he understood. "You don't…"

[And what do I say?
It was never supposed to end up this way]

"He's not!" Ghoul insisted, and then looked back down at him. "You're not. You're not! I won't—you can't—"

Poison held back a whimper, noticing his vision was shimmering, darkening around the edges. It wasn't what he saw if he was struck over the head, or, from what he remembered, that he'd seen drinking too much, long before now, when he'd done such stupid things. No, this was different; it was very evident it was a darkness he wasn't ever going to come out of. My God. I really am dying, aren't I?

[What do I have to do, was supposed to grow old with you]

After a moment, Poison interrupted his love's sputtering with, "Frankie…"

[But that ain't gonna happen]

Ghoul's breath caught in his throat, his eyes burning.

He would never use his real name unless he meant what he was trying to get across.

"No, Party, don't…" He tightened his grip and shifted slightly, as if he were going to try and lift him, but Poison gave a loud cry of protest, grabbing at Ghoul's wrist and squeezing. It hurts, please, stop…

[No that ain't gonna happen]

"Please, Frankie," Poison winced, his grip loosening and then falling away completely as Ghoul ended his attempts. "Just…stop."

[Hold me now 'cause the time I've got's running out
No tears allowed, even though we've become without]

Kobra wrapped his arms gently around his brother, his eyes screwed shut as his struggles to not cry suddenly failed. "Don't leave me, Gerard…" he whispered, his tears quite literally soaking the front of Party's jacket.

Jet flinched, taking the leader's hand, too shocked to do much of anything else as he looked at both Ghoul's arm and the ground around Poison—both were stained a dark, crimson red. "Poison…" he murmured. "Come on, you can fight this! We can…we can go now; get you help!"

"No point," Poison said quietly.

[I just wanna feel your head lying on my chest
So hold me now as I take my last breath]

Ghoul groaned, lowering his head onto his love's chest, feeling him struggle to get air again. "No…" he cried, "please don't…I love you so much!"

Despite fighting it for a moment or two longer, he at last broke down, sobs racking his body as he kissed Poison for what he now knew very well would be the final time.

God his lips are so cold…

[I don't wanna die, I don't know why
This kind of fate was meant for me]

"You said…" Ghoul mumbled after a second. "Y-you always said Killjoys never die."

Poison's eyes had closed, but a weak smile edged onto his lips. "…No one lives forever."

Ghoul swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. He ached to say so much, knowing he hadn't the time to do so. "But…you told me that we'd always be together. Forever. Remember?" His voice cracked and shot an octave higher as he continued. "And that you'd never stop loving me. Not ever."

Poison couldn't lift his hand, but his fingers raised up just enough to stroke his love's arm again. "…I won't."

The words were as beautiful and as painful as holding a rose with bare hands was.

"I won't either. But I—" Ghoul paused for a moment, emotion nearly preventing him from speaking again. "Party—I just can't keep fighting without you…"

[You gotta be strong, gotta move on
It's not how it was supposed to be]

"Neither can I!" Kobra cried, lifting his head. "You're my brother, Gee! I need you…" An unreservedly miserable smile lit up his otherwise dead face. "Who else is gonna tell me how much I suck at shooting? Or—or that I need to smile more? Or tease me about—" he cut off, unable to continue, kissing his older brother's cheek. The brother who'd always stuck up for him, protected him no matter what—who'd playfully taunted him about countless things, saved him countless times, and made him feel better if he was injured or sick, standing with him until he was better.

The same brother he'd been with all his life, that he'd fought side by side with for the entire time they'd been Killjoys…and the same brother that was fading away right in front of him.

"Got to," Party mumbled, blinking, managing to open his eyes, just fractionally, only for a brief moment, catching a quick glimpse of all three of them again. "Got to…for me." Then he stopped struggling; it was only making him more exhausted. And it only then occured to him how very scared he really was.

"I don't want to," Kobra moaned. "I want you to be here…I want you to be here when we destroy Better Living…when we help everyone get back to a normal life…just…please…"

Kobra Kid was entirely aware his begging was futile.

[And what do I say?
It was never supposed to end up this way]

"Sorry, Mikey…" Poison's voice was very nearly incoherent now. "Love you…" He vaguely believed he should have been panicked that he was too tired to take another breath, but he wasn't. The agony in his side had mercifully dulled, quickly continuing to diminish until it did not exist. He felt absolutely nothing except the comfort of his love and Kobra embracing him; something he knew he wouldn't be able to experience again.

That was the most frightening thing.

"Wasn't your fault," Kobra whimpered. "And I love you, too."

[What do I have to do, was supposed to grow old with you]

"I love you." Ghoul said, running a trembling finger along his love's pale cheek. He bit his lip; these moments really would be the last that he ever held someone he truly loved with all his heart, wouldn't they? "So much. More than anything."

"…Love you, too…" The Killjoy could barely form the last words he so desperately wanted to speak, and then, with the last of his strength, managed to:

"Never stop running."

[But that ain't gonna happen]

They both noticed his chest cease moving at nearly the exact same time, and while Kobra turned away, burying his face into Jet's shirt as the older Killjoy held him, silently weeping, and Jet merely stared, eyes wide in shock and disbelief, Ghoul was immediately thrown back into his state of denial. "No…" he whispered, and then his voice grew louder. "No! Party!"

He removed his hold from his love's side, shaking off the bandana, sickened as he knew both it and his hand were covered in his blood, and then desperately pushed on his chest several times, half-heartedly giving him the CPR he knew was useless. "Party! Party Poison! Gerard fucking Way!"

Not a single sound in the world replied to him.

[No that ain't gonna happen.]

"Gee…" Ghoul sobbed quietly, finally giving up, closing his eyes and wrapping both of his arms around him, devastated. No…he wanted to hear his voice again—wanted to hear it every single day. He wanted to kiss him again—kiss him and be kissed back. He wanted to have someone to wrap his arms around, to wrap their arms around him, and feel the emotions he never felt other than the times they had held each other.

But he wouldn't. All that was over. All the fun they'd ever had, or ever would have had—never to be anything but memories and dreams.

Amazing memories…God, what amazing memories…

"Okay, Gerard…I promise." Ghoul vowed after a long while, looking up somberly, his voice hoarse. "We'll never stop running." He paused a moment, sniffing to clear his nose. "Just promise you'll be waiting for us when we finally do."

He shivered as a sudden wind combed through his hair, almost like the way Poison's hand had so many times before. He glanced at Kobra, who had blanched, looking very startled, as if he'd felt something, too, his crying breaking off into silence.

A silence so complete that Ghoul was almost positive he was imagining things when he heard a very familiar voice murmur into his ear, as soft as the breeze itself.

"I promise."

Kobra opened his mouth in a silent exclamation, eyes wide, and Jet froze, all in the same instant.

Ghoul wasn't at all sure if this meant they had heard it as well, or simply a coincidence, but he didn't ask. If it had been merely his distraught mind playing tricks on him, he didn't ever want to know. He didn't feel any less sad, or any less pained by the fact he was now gone, but there was something else tugging at him now.

Hope?

He'd forever remember that voice—that beautiful voice—giving him a last message; one he would never let go of, and one that made him realize he would go on, up until the day that promise was achieved.

Just for you, Gee. Everything we ever did together…I'll never forget it, okay? And I'll miss you so much. We'll all miss you…and we'll always hurt. But we'll carry on—just for you.

He could've sworn he felt a soft kiss on his cheek, this time sure (and yet completely unsure at the same time) it was only his mind.

And then, the words to a song he'd long since forgotten started flowing through his head, making him smile ever-so-slightly as the tears began running down his cheeks again, the hope very clearly there now.

'I am not afraid to keep on living; I am not afraid to walk this world alone…'

~End~