Actions

Work Header

They Came From Dema

Summary:

Waking up in the back of an old muscle car wasn't anything Josh expected. But there he was, roasting in the desert heat, with a mysterious driver and Tyler passed out next to him.

Notes:

This took for-fucking-ever

Work Text:

Waking up in the back of an old 1960’s muscle car was the least of Josh’s worries.  

Where he was, however, was the most.  

He was roasting on the cracked leather seats, dusty sunshine filtering through the backseat window and hitting his face and body. Josh’s mouth tasted unbelievably gritty, as though he had gargled sand and gravel before he went unconscious. He felt hot and sweaty, but his first instinct wasn’t to tear off his scarf and jacket. His first rational thought, however, was to think,  who on earth is driving this  car?   His though was promptly punctuated by the car being jostled around, vibrating as it drove.  

He sat up, groaning. His second rational thought was  Ow ouch. O w,  my back. This seat has no back support.  

“You’re awake,” mused a lazy voice from the driver’s seat. Josh blinked the sleep from his eyes to see the driver; a man with long, inhumanely frizzy brown hair, aviator sunglasses, and a frown. He was wearing a jacket, like Josh, but his didn’t have yellow duct tape on it anywhere, and it was black and red.  

Josh didn’t know what else  to  say, except, “Where’s Tyler?”  

“If that’s your friend, he’s probably right next to you,” He turned back briefly. Josh looked next to him, and sure enough, there was Tyler, pouting in his sleeping state. He was still in his green jacket, striped with yellow tape.  

“Where are we?” Josh asked, looking out the window, but his question was answered by what he saw.  

Miles and miles of desert surrounded the vehicle, which trundled along at 80 miles an hour. A city towered  in  the distance, but something told Josh that they were to stay away from there. Cacti and dried up shrubs broke up the acres of dried dirt and sand, and when he looked back, Josh saw the car kicking up monstrous clouds of dust.  

“See those buildings?” The driver asked.  

“Yeah.”  

“That’s Battery City,” He explained. “It’s like your Dema, but it’s less... religious.”  

“Elaborate?”  

“They don’t use religion to brainwash the citizens. They use chemicals and pills. I, and a lot of others, are awake from  it. The people that aren’t.. .  they’re zombies.  

“Oh,” Josh’s eyes widened. “Sounds dark.”  

“It is.”  

“Who are you?” Josh asked, finally mustering the courage to interrogate his driver further.  

Maybe it came out a bit ruder that he had intended, b ecause  then, a person that Josh hadn’t noticed was sitting in the passenger’s seat pulled out a strange-looking gun and pointed it at his face, speaking  in  a low, angry voice, “That’s enough questions.”  

“Come on,” The driver chided. “He deserves  to  know.”  

“With that tone of voice? Nope.”  

“They call me Jet Star, and the sourpuss is Kobra Kid. Kobra, put away your gun.” Jet Star  ignored the statement and  took his hand off the steering wheel , pushing  the gun back into Kobra Kid’s lap. Kobra Kid was hardly a  kid , with a stone-cold expression and sunken-in cheeks, as though he was severely malnourished. His jacket was bright red, just like the gun in his lap. HIs bleach-blonde hair was swept back messily.  

Kobra Kid rolled his eyes. “Hi.”  

“Are those your real names?” Josh asked, tilting his head skeptically.  

“We don’t go by our real names here. You and your friend Tyler should come up with names soon.” Jet Star explained. “It’s a killjoy thing. It’s a form of rebellion. We don’t accept what the city gives us.”  

“Like our names,” Kobra Kid looked out the window.  

“How did you  find  us?” Josh crossed his arms.  

“Easy,” Kobra Kid shrugged. “My brother and I went on a trip a while ago, and we found your town Dema, so we told Jet and our other friend, Fun Ghoul, and we’ve been making visits ever since.”  

“How long ago is ‘a while ago?’”  

“Three months.”  

“And where is your brother now? And your other friend?” Josh narrowed his eyes.  

“They stayed home,” Kobra’s voice was getting tenser and tenser, as though he were about to explode.  

“We found you unconscious, so we’re taking you here and getting you fixed up.” Jet Star said,  in  a bit of a lighter tone.  

“How long will that take?”  

“Tyler’s broken his leg, so...” Jet Star mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. “A month or so.”  

“A month!?”  Josh grabbed Jet Star’s seat. “We’re the leaders of the Banditos! We don’t  have  a month!”  

“...shit.” Jet Star cursed.  

“Turn this car around right now!” Josh ordered.  

“You are  not  talking to Jet Star like that, unless you want some new piercings, highlighter boy!” Kobra Kid yelled. “I won’t hesitate!”  

Tyler flinched awake, hitting his head on the back of Kobra Kid’s seat, causing Kobra Kid to drop his gun into the back.  

“What’s going on!?” Tyler groaned, rubbing his head while Kobra Kid hissed through his teeth, waving a bony finger at Josh.  

“Perfect timing. We’re at the diner,” Jet Star said, ignoring Tyler’s question and grabbing Kobra Kid’s wrist tightly. “I’ll get Fun Ghoul to help Tyler out of the car.”  

------  

Josh sat in one of the booths of the old diner, glaring at Kobra Kid on the other side of the room. Kobra glared back.  

Tyler was seated on a barstool as Jet Star and Fun Ghoul readied a splint.  

Fun Ghoul was a lot less terrifying than his name let on but was still borderline satanic. His long, greasy dark hair covered his even darker eyes, and his thin smile made Josh shiver. His green vest was hanging on the back of another barstool, and his yellow shirt was drenched with sweat. Gross.  

Tyler stared at Josh with a look that said,  I haven’t the foggiest idea of what the fresh heck is going on.  

Josh shot a look back that said,  that’s  okay, I don’t either.  

“We can’t send you back to Dema with a broken leg,” Jet Star broke the awkward silence.  

“But we have to get back!” Tyler protested. “Without leaders, the Bishops will overrun and take the Banditos!”  

“Isn’t there anyone else that can lead besides you two?” Kobra asked irritably. Josh was ready to pummel this guy.  

“My friend, Clancy... but he hate’s leading,” Tyler mumbled.  

“Contact him and tell him he’s leading the Banditos until you get back,” Jet suggested. “That way, you’ll have peace of mind until you return to Dema.”  

“...okay.” Tyler sighed, still not exactly on board with the idea.  

So far, Jet Star, despite the rocky start, was the only ‘killjoy’ that Josh was remotely fond of. He was a nice guy,  although   he was sort of  a dad-friend, but at least he was considerate and not ready to shoot the Banditos. He was still hesitant to speak to Fun Ghoul, because he looked like the guy who would offer you cocaine on the side of the road, and Kobra Kid was an asshole. That’s the word, an asshole.  

“We’re almost finished,” It took Josh a second to realize that Fun Ghoul had spoken. He pulled up his sleeves, and Josh was amazed by the sheer number of tattoos that were covering Fun Ghoul’s arms. He didn’t even notice the ones on his hands and neck. He couldn’t even count them all. “You’ll be able to walk with a crutch once we’re done with the splint.”  

“That sounds alright.” Tyler forced a smile, but it faded quickly.  

Josh played with the sleeves of his jacket, and despite the intense, stale heat of the diner, he was unwilling to take it off. The jacket was a part of him in a way.  

“Has anyone seen Poison?” Fun Ghoul asked. “He’s been brooding a lot.”  

“He might be outside, in the shed,” Kobra Kid replied. “He doesn’t take kindly to... newcomers.”  

Kobra Kid said  newcomers  like a person would say  parasites.  Josh seethed internally, standing up and heading to the door.  

“Where are you going?” Jet Star looked up at Josh.  

“It’s stuffy  in  here,” Josh picked at his fingernails absentmindedly. “I’m going outside.”  

“Alright,” Jet shrugged. “Don’t mess with Party Poison. He’s a grouch.”  

“Right,” Josh nodded, heading out the door, with no intention of meeting ‘Party Poison.’  

-----  

Josh wasn’t of average height. Being 5’8” had its severe downsides.  

Being intimidated by people was one of them.  

Josh wandered around a bit outside, by some of the Diner’s gas pumps. It seemed that, when this place was functioning like an actual diner, it doubled as a gas station. Now, the gasoline was fueling the killjoy s’  car, which was covered in chipping spray-paint designs and decals. The sun still beat on the building, but the shade and fresher air was much appreciated, as well as a nice little breeze.  

Josh didn’t hear the crunching of footsteps behind him as he stared at the horizon, his eyes a little sore from the brightness of the environment itself. He breathed in the dry air, and was about to release it, when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.  

A yellow gun, like Kobra Kid’s, was pressed under Josh’s jaw firmly, shoving his head up to greet its owner.  

Josh made a totally masculine squeaking noise as he was nose-to-nose with an angry killjoy with bright red hair and intense eyes. Pain flared in Josh’s arm, and the cold gun made his sweat freeze.  

“Who the fresh hell are you, waltzing your neon-yellow ass around here?” The man spat.  

Josh could barely form a proper word, let alone a fully-fledged sentence, his eyes painfully wide and heart hoping he wouldn’t get shot right there. He managed to gag out, “P-Party Poison?”  

“How do you know me?” Party Poison’s grip tightened on Josh’s shoulder, but the gun  was lowered slowly, and Josh’s heart stopped palpitating frantically.  

“Y-your friends,” Josh’s jaw slowly stopped shaking. “Inside. Jet Star?”  

“Why are you here?”  

“He brought me and my friend.”  

“...that’s why he was out so much.” Party Poison mumbled.  

“You know about Dema?”  

Yeah ,” Party Poison put away his gun entirely, and Josh praised God silently. He was sick of being at the receiving end of those unconventional weapons. “I’m guessing your from there?”  

“My friend and I are,” Josh nodded.  

“Huh,” Poison nodded lightly. He let go of Josh’s shoulder, and Josh had a feeling it would hurt later.  

Party Poison was clad in a blue jacket covered in white and red stripes. The manufacturer’s brand was a rectangular patch that read  Dead Pegasus.  His jeans were waxed, and Josh realized that Party Poison was roughly Tyler’s height. That wasn’t good.  

“Poison?” Josh flinched at the voice of Kobra Kid, who had exited the diner, possibly to find the killjoy.  

“Hey,” Poison waved.  

What - Josh, you idiot! Jet told you-”  

“I was the one who found him. He wasn’t looking for me,” Poison held his hands up. “It’s fine.”  

Kobra Kid seemed to accept this, but shot a murderous glare at Josh, as if to say,  I’ll kill you later.  

“Jet Star’s looking for you,” Kobra said, still eyeing Josh. “He wants you to meet someone.”  

“Is that your friend?” Poison turned to Josh, and Josh nodded wordlessly. He wasn’t anxious to get on anyone else’s bad side. He’d already seen Kobra Kid’s and Party Poison’s.  

The true fear set in when Poison started to head inside.  

Tyler was awfully relaxed , for someone who had no idea what was going on.  

Party Poison and Tyler calmly regarded each other, while the former sat down in a booth. Jet Star was seated on the counter, despite his fatherly attitude. Kobra Kid was leaned on the wall, and Fun Ghoul sat himself down next to Party Poison.  

“This is Tyler, and Josh,” Jet Star prompted.  

Tyler waved and smiled, but Josh saw that he was becoming slightly uncomfortable. “We’re from Dema.”  

Party Poison nodded. “I guess you were already introduced to us all?”  

“Yeah.” Josh winced, remembering the anger that had been very well expressed through an iron grip.  

Kobra Kid gave Josh another evil eye, when Jet Star casually pulled out his gun, a blue one, and Kobra backed off a little.  

“You got something against them?” Poison addressed Kobra.  

“He was an asshole to Jet.”  

“Look, he just wanted to know what was going on. If I were him, I would too,” Jet reasoned. Josh let out a quiet breath he didn’t realize he was holding when he saw Kobra relent and mumble something along the lines of an apology to Josh.  

Party Poison seemed happy that Kobra had apologized, and even a little triumphant. He grinned and reclined in his seat.  

“Brotherly affection,” Fun Ghoul muttered sarcastically. “At its finest.”  

-----  

That night wasn’t spent well. Josh didn’t sleep.  

It was about two in the morning, and Josh was wide awake. He felt like someone had injected caffeine into his veins, and he kept twitching. He wasn’t okay. This wasn’t okay. Worrying about being far from home was usually Tyler’s thing, but he was dead asleep.  

Another good reason why Josh wasn’t sleeping well was because he was sleeping on the floor.  

Granted, he was given a pillow, mattress, and blanket, because nights outside of Battery City were notoriously cold, but that still didn’t keep the unevenly worn springs from digging into Josh’s sides, back, or stomach, no matter how he positioned himself.  

Criminy.  

He sat up, staring at Tyler, who was sleeping like the dead. Josh envied him for being able to sleep so easily. Usually, he was the one who was up past three in the morning, on his fifth Red Bull. Now, it seems that Josh had taken the role of the insomniac.  

Josh stood up and tugged on his boots. There was a cold breeze blowing through the open window, and he smelled exhaust and sweat. And, through that window, Josh heard voices.  

“...and that’s how you sharpen a pocketknife.” Came the distant voice of Party Poison. Why was he outside? Josh padded over to the window to look, but the red-haired killjoy was nowhere in sight.  

“That’s it? Jet was scared to teach me, and it’s that easy?” Came another voice, and Josh realized that the source wasn’t on the ground, but above him, on the roof. This voice belonged to a kid, a girl that sounded no older than ten.  

“That’s it,” Poison laughed. “You try it and scare Jet tomorrow morning with it.”  

“Yeah!”  

Josh decided enough was enough. If he was going to be wide awake, he’d be wide awake with a friend or two. He climbed out the window, and the sand and dirt crunched under his feet. He was surprised that Poison didn’t hear him. If he did, he probably didn’t care.  

“No, no, hang on,” Poison chided, and Josh didn’t know that it was possible for him to sound that gentle. “You go  away  from yourself. Hold it like this. There you go.”  

“Oh, that’s better,” the ten-year-old seemed to understand, and Josh heard soft scraping noises of metal on metal.  

There was a ladder leaning on the diner, and it took Josh only half a second to realize,  hey, I could use this.  

The second Josh set his foot on the metal  ladder  he heard the familiar clicking of a gun.  

“Alright,  wh -” Josh was greeted by an angry Poison  (again) , standing on the roof, his bare hands dirty from... something. “Oh. It’s you.”  

“You forgot my name?” Josh laughed humorlessly.  

“No,” He said simply. “What are you doing awake?”  

“I should ask you the same thing.”  

“I don’t sleep,” Party Poison reached his hand down. “Get up here.”  

Josh climbed up and took it, not minding the slightly wet grime on it. “What are you doing up here?”  

“I spend time out here,” He shrugged. “And, I don’t think I’ve introduced you to Girl.”  

Girl was a small, scrawny kid, in an o versized, colorful vest, decorated with pins. Her hair made Josh think that she was somehow related to Jet Star, it was so insanely curly. Her belt, Josh noticed, was covered entirely with bottle caps.  

“Hi,” She waved. “Are you a killjoy?”  

“No,” Josh answered. “I’m a Bandito. You know what those are?”  

“Aren’t they up in that one city, Poison?” She turned to him. “Demon?”  

“Dema,” He corrected. “And they are.”  

“Oh, yeah,” She nodded. “ Wanna  see the knife I sharpened myself?”  

“You haven’t finished it yet,” Poison laughed. “And I helped you with it.”  

“You showed me how,” Girl picked up the pocketknife she was talking about. The handle was covered in messy paint. “Can we show him?”  

“Of course. You plan on staying up here?” He raised an eyebrow at Josh.  

“Yeah. I can’t sleep.”  

“Sit down over here,” Poison gestured to the sign that indicated the restaurant. Some of the letters were missing, so it spelled out  DIE  instead of  DINER.  Girl leaned against the E and opened the knife back up.  

“What’s your name?” Girl looked up from her weapon.  

“Josh.”  

-----  

“You have a buzzard for a pet?” Girl asked. She was so full of questions. “How hard is it to feed?”  

“Not very hard. There’s a lot of forest around Dema,” Josh laughed.  

“Wow,” She leaned back. “Poison, can you take me there sometime?”  

“Maybe,” Party Poison shrugged. “We’ll have to be careful.”  

“Why?”  

“When we visited for the first time, we nearly ran into a guy riding a horse. He was wearing these robes, like a catholic priest or something, but they were red, and he had a hood over his face. He didn’t say anything to us, and I don’t think he saw us at all. But he was leading these kids somewhere. They looked like they were sleepwalking.” Poison explained.  

“...What colors were their necks?” Josh’s breath hitched.  

“What?” Poison gave him a funny look.  

“You heard me.”  

“... they had this grey paint stuff on them, I dunno,” Poison shook his head. “Why is-”  

“You could’ve been taken, Poison. We have a cult in Dema, like Better Living, but there are nine Bishops, with one leader, who can control anyone,” Josh’s voice shook a little. “You saw him. Nico.”  

“...shit.” Poison looked surprised, and a little scared.  

“Why is that bad?” Girl asked, a little concerned.  

“If you get taken by the Bishops, you don’t have any free will,” Josh said. “It’s as bad as here, and when you die... or they think you do... you’re fed to the vultures. And if you wake up from the cult, they put you in prison... and they torture you. They tortured Tyler.”  

“Oh,” Girl’s voice went quiet. “That... that’s bad.”  

“It’s so messed up, because you think you’re believing in something good, and you don’t realize it until someone shows it to you... or you get fed to the vultures alive,” Josh shuddered. “I was scared of the vultures, until Tyler showed up one day with one perched on his arm.”  

“Isn’t there a city that isn’t like Battery City or Dema?” Girl crossed her arms. “Someone always has to have their way, or they kill someone.”  

“I’m not sure, kiddo,” Poison sighed. “People are... selfish. Here, they’re blind, and in Dema, they’re  insane .”  

“That’s not right ,” Girl clenched the knife in her fist, and Josh seriously thought she was going to stab someone with it. And it surely wouldn’t be Poison.  

“I know,” Poison put an arm around her, and she relaxed, leaning into him. Josh was genuinely surprised to see how gentle he could be.  Who really  was  Party Poison?  

The three were silent. Josh watched as Party Poison rubbed Girl’s back, and she nodded off occasionally, the knife still in her hand. He looked up at the sky, filled with stars that he never saw in Dema.  

“I  wanna  see Dema sometime,” Girl mumbled.  

“Why?” Josh gave her a confused look. “It’s just like here.”  

“There’s plants there,” She reasoned, leaning into Party Poison’s shoulder and yawning. “And it isn’t hot there.”  

“Good point,” Poison sighed. “We should head inside now. You can’t even keep your eyes open.”  

“But I’m not tired,” She protested.  

“Yes, you are. Come on,” Poison threw Girl over his shoulder gently and stood up. “Bedtime.”  

Geeeeeeee ,” She complained.  

Party Poison inhaled through his teeth. “Don’t use that name, Girl. Please.”  

“Sorry.”  

Josh was a little confused and watched as Poison approached the ladder and descended effortlessly. He  followed  him.  

“Go get in bed. I’ll tuck you in soon,” Poison put Girl down on her feet.  

“Okay,” Girl nodded and meandered off inside the diner lazily.  

Josh stared at Poison for a solid five seconds before finding his voice. “What did she call you?”  

“T-that’s not important,” Poison waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t go by that name anymore.”  

“Was it your first name? Before you left the city?”  

“...it was.”  

“Why don’t you use it anymore?” Josh asked.  

“I don’t really know. It’s a zone thing, I guess,” Party Poison shrugged. “Only Girl and the others- they know.”  

“Does Girl have a real name?”  

“No. She doesn’t remember it.”  

“Why is that?”  

“She left the city really young,” Poison leaned against the wall.  

Josh and Poison were silent. Poison stared at the sky, chewing his lip. Josh recognized how Poison talked- out of the side of his mouth, as if talking around a cigarette.  

“What  is  your real name?” Josh asked quietly. “I mean- you don’t have to tell me.”  

“It’s fine. I already know yours,” Poison laughed. “And Tyler’s.  

“Yeah.”  

“...It’s Gerard.”  

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Gerard? I’m honestly surprised.”  

“Why?”  

“It doesn’t really fit you.”  

Gerard laughed. “I’m told that all the time. It’s so stiff. Too formal.”  

“Girl calls you Gee?” Josh tilted his head.  

“She doesn’t really see me as a dad. It’s more of Jet’s job to be a dad. I’m more of an older brother to her. So’s Kobra.” Gerard shrugged.  

“So, what’s Kobra’s real name, then?” Josh smirked.  

“You’ve already pissed him off enough, Josh,” Gerard shook his head. “Do you really want to piss him off more?”  

“He won’t lay a hand on me.”  

“True. Girl wouldn’t let him,” Gerard shrugged. “It’s Michael. He goes by Mikey, when he does use his name.”  

Josh nodded. “Mikey seems like he’s always on edge.”  

“He has severe anxiety, and it comes out as anger,” Gerard explained. “He also has a bad case of RBF.”  

“RBF?” Josh was confused.  

“Resting Bitch-Face.”  

Josh laughed loudly.  

“He does!” Gerard grinned. “He never smiles unless he comfortable.”  

“I just thought he didn’t care about anything.” Josh admitted.  

“He does. He just doesn’t know how to show it. He’ll warm up to you eventually, Josh,” Gerard removed his jacket and tied it around his waist. His greasy hair stuck to his forehead and neck. “I’m off to bed, alright? Don’t wake me up.”  

“I doubt I’d be able to,” Josh stretched a little. He was starting to feel drowsy, surprisingly. “I’m a little tired, myself.”  

“Go sleep, then,” Gerard walked back inside, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans.  

Josh followed Party Poison, or Gerard, he thought, feeling sleepy and a lot more comfortable with being in the desert.