Just a Natural Fact - Saving the Vorwuls since 3289 a cage!
Just a Natural Fact
Author: turps33
Fandoms: Bandom
H/C: ritual sacrifice, undercover: discovered and hurt, cuddling for warmth, muscle strains and spasms.
Title: Just a Natural Fact
Characters Ryan and Mikey.
Medium: Fic
Rating: R for violence and imagery
Warnings: Descriptions of injuries
Summary: Ryan's been found out. Now all he can do is hold on.
Notes: Written for the hc_bingo February Challenge.

This is a story set in the And the Embers Never Fade verse. One where Ryan has been hiding undercover as a Drac. It's also prompted by this picture of Ryan and Mikey as drawn by [personal profile] omens

I couldn't have done this without themoononastick who not only beta read, but did it while I was actually writing so I could get this posted before the deadline. Huge thanks go to her ♥

Ryan’s mouth tastes like plastic, his throat and tongue dry.

He swallows, stands frozen and silent, sweat beading at his neckline, sliding down the side of his face. He wants to wipe it away, but that’s something that Dracs don’t do. They run and attack, they do what they’re told.

When you’re numb discomfort means nothing.

Ryan isn’t.

He hasn’t been for a while. He stands in the crowd and pretends.


Ryan’s mask is pushed high on his head and he’s crouched down in front of an info terminal, his body folded in tight as he laboriously picks out words hidden in code.

Anything new?

The back of Ryan’s neck prickles as he types, ‘Y. Usual place?’


That’s all that there is. Ryan’s left with a screen of meaningless code and the familiar feelings of relief mixed with isolation. He keeps his fingers over the keyboard, says almost silently, “Bye,” and then stands. Ryan’s already been in the control room too long, two minutes and the next patrol is due to walk past. By then Ryan needs to be gone.

Ryan pulls down his mask.

He leaves with ninety seconds to spare.


“If cats ruled the world naps would be law.”

“And dogs would create a utopia of love and devotion,” Ryan replies, and pushes back the metal sheet that hides the tunnel out of Battery City. “Also, they like chasing balls.”

“You’re reaching now,” Kobra Kid says. He’s standing next to his bike, something that’s still gleaming white despite the dirt of the desert. Kobra Kid himself is in shadow, but when he steps forward Ryan sees he’s got his jacket zipped up tight to his neck. “It’s fucking freezing.”

“Pussy,” Ryan says easily, and even though it is freezing, his face already stinging, Ryan loves these moments when he’s out of the confines of the city, able to breathe air that isn’t recycled or made thick with heat and the scent of freshly spilled blood.

“I’ve got you something.” Kobra Kid pushes his hand in his pocket, and brings out a strip of dried meat.

Ryan takes the strip, peering at it before taking a bite of one end. “More experiments?”

“I didn’t ask what it is,” Kobra Kid says. “But it tastes good.”

“Probably best.” Not that Ryan cares what he’s eating, it’s food, and anything is better than the vitamin enriched slop he gets to survive on. Ryan takes another bite, resisting the urge to wolf it all down. Chewing slowly, he says, “I heard a power plant went dark last night.”

“You heard right,” Kobra Kid says, and then adds, “But other places went light. Places that need it.”

Ryan doesn’t ask for details, those are dangerous to hold. Still, it feels good to know that out in the zones wrongs are being put right, and that Kobra Kid is willing to share even this most flimsy of information. It’s more than Ryan ever expected, especially when their first meetings were so tense.

In the distance the sky flashes red, the ground rumbling under their feet. Ryan knows it’s time to pass on the things that he’s learned. He says, “They’ve mined route twenty-seven, all along the endless sands and they’ve doubled raids for zone two. There’s a dream suppressor drug in production and I heard two zone runners were executed last night.”

“Fuck,” Kobra Kid says, and dips his head, his mouth moving with silent words.

Ryan fights the urge to ask questions, but still, one of them slips free. “All of yours, they’re.....”

“Accounted for,” Kobra Kid says, but unlike before, he sounds tense, the former ease of the meeting erased. “I have to go. See you next time.”

“Sure,” Ryan says, and keeps eating as he watches Kobra Kid ride off. Never looking away until he and his bike disappear over the horizon, and yet again Ryan’s alone.


Ryan gets made the next sunrise.

He doesn’t get the chance to yell before he’s pulled from the ranks, his mask yanked off and thrown to the floor. Korse’s arm is around Ryan’s neck, pushing tight until he’s gasping for air.

Korse jabs his gun against Ryan’s ribs and pulls him backwards, Ryan’s heels dragging against the metallic floor as other Dracs scatter to all sides.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find out?” Korse snarls, and he’s got his face against Ryan’s, the gesture terrifyingly intimate. “You’re not as smart as you think you are. None of you are.”

The last is spat out, spittle against Ryan’s cheek. He’s trying to fight, with his elbows and feet, kicking back as he’s hauled toward the transportation compound.

Which is wrong, because it’s supposed to be the punishment block, not this sterile corridor. Korse flanked by Dracs who remain eerily silent as Ryan’s thrown into the back of a white van.

The doors slam shut and Ryan springs forward, yells as he fruitlessly slams his fists against metal.

And keeps yelling, the echoing words hiding the first terrifying hiss of gas.


When Ryan comes to he’s hanging. His feet dangling and arms stretched up high above his head.

He’s still wearing his suit, but the material is blood-stained, white turned dark, and Ryan gasps as he moves his head, trying to see. The ground far below, his wrists bound with restrain strips, thin and sharp and designed to cut in.

The slightest movement causes them to tighten, and Ryan’s sure he can see bone, white under the mess of torn flesh and already embedded strips. He probably can, and Ryan tries to remain calm, breathing through the panic as he stares straight ahead. To the highway that stretches into the distance, cutting though the vast expanse of sand and darkened patches of scrub.

There’s not a building in sight. Even if there was no one would help, because Ryan’s been left here as a warning. Strung up and exposed on a billboard that welcomes guests to the city.

If he had the energy Ryan would laugh, because after a life spent in hiding he’s about to die of the ultimate exposure; and there’s not a thing he can do to stop it.


The pain has eased now, but Ryan knows that’s not a good sign. His hands are numb, swollen and purple, the wrists slashed all around. Each breath is an effort and Ryan’s skin feels tight, hot and burned. It’s a heat that’s competes with the cold of the night, the sun replaced by rolling dark clouds, huge and bloated with acid. Ryan’s shivers as he struggles to keep breathing.

It would be easier to stop, just give in and let himself drift. But Ryan won’t. If he has to die he’ll go down fighting. Never give up, never give in. It’s what Ryan does.

He takes in a new breath, shallow and jagged. Exhales and then takes in another. Over and over and over. Fighting back, his own final fuck you to a system he hates.


It takes Ryan a while to realize that someone is talking. Lost in a fog, light-headed, his chest aching, Ryan’s eyes are half-open, sand stuck to his damp lashes, his lips blistered, the skin tearing as he attempts a reply.

“Ryan,” the voice says again, and Ryan tries to place who it is. If this time it’s actually real.

“Fuck.” The sound of footsteps, and then Ryan’s biting at his own lip, trying not to cry out as something touches his foot, jostling his whole body.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Another touch and it feels like Ryan’s hands are on fire, something wet trickling down over his arms. He clamps his mouth shut, catching his screams in his throat, draws in barely enough air through his nose. Each breath is wet, Ryan’s chest burning and it’s almost impossible to keep his eyes open, the darkness he’s already seeing pushed close and cloying.

Ryan’s head drops forward, his chin against his chest.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” A yell, the touch at Ryan’s feet gone, the sound of footsteps walking away.

Ryan always knew he’d end up dying alone.

He lets his eyes close.

Then, a lasergun fires, and Ryan’s falling, plummeting to the ground.

He screams when he lands.


When Ryan comes to he’s shivering. He’s lying on the ground, covered by a jacket, someone’s body close to his, an arm draped over his side, holding him close.

“And then he decided to jump the lava pits, because he’s a fucking idiot.”

It takes a while for Ryan to understand what he’s hearing, and who he’s hearing. When he does he relaxes, his voice cracking as he says, “Kobra Kid?”

“Hey,” Kobra Kid says, and he’s a reassuring warm presence, solid and there as Ryan rides out the shivers that shake his whole body. “Sorry I had to cut you down like that. I thought I could catch you.”

Ryan’s teeth are chattering, and his tongue feels alien in his mouth as he says, “You dropped me?”

“You couldn’t breathe, I had to get you down fast.” Kobra Kid reaches behind him, then holds a water bottle close to Ryan’s mouth. Thumb held over the opening, Kobra Kid lets a little water dribble free. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“Or you suck at catching,” Ryan says, seeking distraction from the way the joints of his shoulders are burning, and how he can’t feel his hands at all. It’s the latter that causes panic to push forward, and Ryan tries to flex his fingers, his heart racing as they don’t seem to move in response.

“They’re still there.” Gently, Kobra Kid puts his own hand under Ryan’s and lifts it up, showing how his wrist has been wrapped in strips of white fabric, and how his whole hand has turned black, the fingers all swollen. “We know a good doctor, I’ll take you to him.”

Ryan takes in the careful phrasing, how Kobra Kid doesn’t say that Ryan’s hands will be fine. It’s something Ryan appreciates, even while wishing for that rose-tinted lie. He looks down at his hand, how Kobra Kid’s fingers surround it. “What were you saying? Before.”

Kobra Kid lowers his hand, but keeps holding on. “I was telling you about Pete. How I first met him.”

“Oh,” Ryan says, and this is a story he’s heard scraps of. From Pete and then Kobra Kid himself. Personal snippets shared amongst the endless tense hours of plotting and planning, the fleeting meetings where Ryan found the human contact that he craved. “He said you were old friends.”

“Something like that,” Kobra Kid says, and he takes hold of the jacket that’s covering Ryan, pulling it up to his chin. “We met at the stunt show, ran together through the heat wave months, and then he left.”

Ryan turns his head, his nose next to the collar of the jacket. He inhales, concentrating on the scent of leather, gasoline and sweat. “To go be an inside agent.”

“Yeah.” Kobra Kid shifts even closer, and his hair has fallen over his face, his t-shirt rippling in the slight breeze. “I didn’t know that back then. He just left one day and never came back.”

Ryan understands how that feels. He tries to curl his hand around Kobra Kid’s, giving up when his fingers remain frozen. “He came back.”

“Eventually,” Kobra Kid says, and at a strong gust of wind he angles his body, providing shelter from the sharp grains of sand. “The fucker pulled off his mask in the middle of an attack. I almost ghosted him.”

“But you didn’t,” Ryan says, and this is a story he needs to believe in, that it’s possible for people to be redeemed, and ultimately, to be forgiven.

“I wanted to,” Kobra Kid admits, and while he’s looking at Ryan he’s obviously not seeing him at all. “I was so fucking angry, we’ve all had so much taken, and Pete just walked away.”

“He does good work.” It’s something Ryan feels compelled to say, because as much as he likes Kobra Kid, it’s Pete who was there for so long. Hanging on until he had no choice but to run.

“I know,” Kobra Kid says, and then. “I forgave him a long time ago. He did what he had to.”

It’s what Ryan wanted to hear, a moment of ease against the constant throb of pain that radiates out from his shoulders.

Kobra Kid pushes himself up on his side, looking down at Ryan. “The others will find us soon. I left a message.”

Ryan’s tired, exhaustion lying heavy, but surprise cuts through that and he looks up at Kobra Kid. “You went out alone?”

“I’ve been meeting you alone for months now,” Kobra Kid points out, but then, his expression serious he adds, “A Drac hanging from a billboard had to be you. As soon as I heard I took off.”

“And you couldn’t take the car?” Ryan says, and he’s fighting to stay awake, using this conversation as an anchor against sleep. “Something a little more practical than your bike.”

“There wasn’t one to take,” Kobra Kid says, and he picks up the bottle again, giving Ryan more water. “The others are off on trades, I was minding the shop.”

Gratefully, Ryan runs his tongue over his lips and thinks of things Kobra Kid has said in the last months, the details he’s shared of his life. “You mean reading magazines and listening to music?”

“Like I said, minding the shop.” Kobra Kid smiles a little, lets himself down so he’s lying pressed up close to Ryan. “They’ll find us. I promise.”

Actual promises are something Ryan’s not used to. But Kobra Kid sounds sure, and Ryan believes him. It’s why he finally closes his eyes, knowing Kobra Kid’s close, and that somewhere, help is on the way.



Ryan isn’t sure how long he’s been sleeping. Disorientated, he opens his eyes, seeing it’s still dark, and then, that there’s a Jeep parked close by. A bright pink Jeep, some kind of art work covering the side.

“This is Bob.” Kobra Kid’s kneeling next to Ryan, and he indicates the man who’s walking over, his hair pulled back by a bandana and his expression stern. “Told you he’d find us.”

“Hey,” Bob says, and he crouches so he can look directly at Ryan. “I’m going to carry you back to my Jeep, and I want no bullshit about being able to walk.”

Ryan blinks, his protest pushed back as he takes in how Bob’s got his hand on Kobra Kid’s shoulder, the way his expression softens as he looks in his direction.

Kobra Kid smiles, and tilts his head to one side, so it’s resting against Bob’s hand. “Bob believes in tough love. But he’s a good nurse.”

Bob scowls, but beyond that there’s amusement, shown in the twitch of his mouth as he pulls his hand free and then stands. “I should be, I get enough practice with you idiots.” He directs his attention to Ryan then, says, “Hang in there, we’ll get you to a doctor.”

Ryan nods, steeling himself as Bob slips his arms under Ryan’s legs and back. He lifts, and Ryan tries to bite back a cry, his whole body throbbing with pain. Gasping for breath, he bites at the collar of Kobra Kid’s jacket, his head against Bob’s chest, and hand still held by Kobra Kid, who walks at his side to the Jeep.

Ryan’s glad that he does. Even if he can’t feel the touch, he knows Kobra Kid’s there, and that’s reassuring, when Ryan feels so sick and hurt and afraid.

Carefully, Bob places Ryan on the back seat of the Jeep, and Kobra Kid’s climbing in too, settling down at Ryan’s side.

Bob looks at them both, and Ryan can imagine what he’s seeing. Kobra Kid snuggled up to a Drac, colors against white. It should be the ultimate wrong, but it feels right, and Bob obviously thinks so too. He laughs, says, “Jesus. What’s with you and the white suits?”

“I never saw you in yours,” Kobra Kid says, and Ryan watches as he runs his thumb over the back of Ryan’s hand, from swollen fingers to blood-stained bandaging.

“And you never will,” Bob says, and he steps away, heading toward Kobra Kid’s bike. “I’ll hitch up your bike. I assume you’re coming with us.”

“You assume right,” Kobra Kid says.

Relieved, Ryan tries to get comfortable, attempting to pull Kobra Kid’s jacket higher up his body by using his teeth.

“Let me,” Kobra Kid says, and he tucks the jacket around Ryan’s body, and then turns, reaching over the back of the seat. “Don’t tell him I told you, but Bob likes picnics.”

Kobra Kid holds up a blanket then shakes it over the side of the Jeep, causing dust and sand to fly free.

“He likes picnics?” Ryan repeats, and he can’t tell if Kobra Kid’s joking, because even though Ryan’s seen him for all of a few moments, Bob doesn’t seem like a picnic person at all.

“He likes the romantic shit,” Kobra Kid says, his voice loud as he settles the blanket over them both and then curls himself in close next to Ryan. “A spot overlooking the blood geyser, water, lizard legs and emergency flares for atmosphere, he’s got it down.”

Ryan remains unsure, even when Bob attaches Kobra Kid’s bike to the back of the Jeep and then says, “See if I take you again.”

Which leads to another question Ryan knows not to ask. But he’s been stringing together hints for months, and right now he needs a distraction, as Bob starts the winch, causing the Jeep to vibrate. It’s only the tiniest amount, but each movement seems to tear through Ryan’s body and he groans, says, “Bob, he’s not a Killjoy.”

“No, he’s not,” Kobra Kid says, and he looks over his shoulder, to where Bob’s standing at the back of the Jeep, carefully securing the bike. “But he’s important.”

Which is something Ryan suspected, from the things Kobra Kid’s said, but mostly, the way he looked as he said them. “So he’s what, friend, family, significant other?”

It’s a personal question, and despite their friendship, Ryan’s unsure if Kobra Kid will actually answer, especially when at first he remains silent. But then Ryan realizes that Kobra Kid’s hesitation isn’t due to him deciding whether to share the information, instead it’s him thinking about how to reply. Another pause and then Kobra Kid smiles and says, “He’s all of those, but he’s not alone. I’ll introduce you to the others later.”

It’s more than Ryan expected, and it’s something to concentrate on as Bob walks past, squeezing Kobra Kid’s shoulder through the blanket before getting in the front and starting the engine making the Jeep vibrate and causing pain to flare through Ryan’s body. Ryan rests his head against Kobra Kid’s shoulder, so tired staying upright seems impossible, and he says, “I’d like that. Thanks, Kobra Kid.”

Kobra Kid rests his arm around Ryan’s shoulder, tucking him close to his body, holding him tight as they move, warm and secure as Kobra Kid says, “Mikey. My name is Mikey.”

Also posted at Dreamwidth. Reply where you wish.

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(Deleted comment)
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 01:18 pm (UTC) (Link)
He was left to hang! They were very mean to him, and all he was doing was passing on a bit information.

But yeah, Mikey totally thought he could catch him. Sadly he was wrong.

Ryan is brave, and strong, and never gives in. I kind of like him a lot.

Thank you!
t_vo0810 From: t_vo0810 Date: February 28th, 2011 08:30 pm (UTC) (Link)
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! please write in this 'verse forever and ever, ok? don't abandon you other 'verse tho cause i love them like mad too. just keep writing. :D

this whole glimpse into the 'verse made me grin so hard. (Nurse!Bob ftmfw!)
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 01:16 pm (UTC) (Link)
No worries, I'll keep writing! :D

Nurse!Bob is amazing. He stands no bullshit and has gained far too much practice patching people up. It's how he can tuck in blankets, check stitches and glare people into resting within moments.
t_vo0810 From: t_vo0810 Date: February 28th, 2011 08:32 pm (UTC) (Link)
i forgot to tell you this. after i read this 'verse, i had an epic dream about it. it was awesome. that only happens with fics that really resonate with me, ya know? i had dreams about your garden 'verse too. the way you draw relationships is just gorgeous.
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 01:14 pm (UTC) (Link)
That's such a cool, amazing thing.

Thanks for letting me know, and for the lovely compliment.
From: desfinado Date: February 28th, 2011 08:43 pm (UTC) (Link)
I.... can't even think of words right now. You are so, SO spectacular at writing this universe, wow. I loved that GSF verse and I love seeing this extension of it, seeing it from the outside (Bob looks at them both, and Ryan can imagine what he’s seeing. Kobra Kid snuggled up to a Drac, colors against white. It should be the ultimate wrong, but it feels right, and Bob obviously thinks so too. He laughs, says, “Jesus. What’s with you and the white suits?”), and I love seeing Ryan as another distinct character in this world. The way you fill in the world with dialogue is SO fucking perfect:

Chewing slowly, he says, “I heard a power plant went dark last night.”

“You heard right,” Kobra Kid says, and then adds, “But other places went light. Places that need it.”

YES, Mikey speaks exactly as you'd imagine for his character, for what he does. And this:

If he had the energy Ryan would laugh, because after a life spent in hiding he’s about to die of the ultimate exposure; and there’s not a thing he can do to stop it.

What a perfect, perfect image and of COURSE it's not lost on Ryan. I loved the Pete backstory, how things are never black and white for Mikey, for all of them. Oh MAN I just -- I want to roll around in this FOREVER and also want to see more of Ryan and Mikey interacting and I want to see the whole group of them meet Ryan and UGHHHHH SO GOOOOOOD ♥!
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 01:12 pm (UTC) (Link)
You have an amazing knack of making me feel good about my writing. I just wanted to tell you that.

I'm sure I said this in the main story comment, but to me this whole verse is shades of grey. Which includes good people who do bad things. It's how Mikey forgave Pete even though he was so angry at first, and how Bob's started to gain peace.

The way Ryan will do the same eventually. I feel bad for him in this story, isolated except for brief meetings with Kobra Kid and impersonal messages hidden in code.

But he has been saved, and Gabe will fix him up and the others look after him and show that once given, the love, friendship and respect of a zone runner is a powerful thing.
From: drenagon Date: February 28th, 2011 08:55 pm (UTC) (Link)
Oh, poor Ryan!! You described the being-hung-out-to-die bit so well that I couldn't read it fully without squirming. Also, when Ryan hit the floor I actually winced. Being dropped is never fun. Those bits contrasted perfectly with Mikey and Bob coming to the rescue and the knowledge that Ryan would be safe. Mikey's acceptance of him into the 'friend and family' of the Killjoys at the end was beautiful.
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 12:43 pm (UTC) (Link)
I was very mean to Ryan. I'm a bad person.

Hitting the floor would have sucked :(

But yeah, he gets to be saved in the end and taken to somewhere he can have people around him and be taken care of. He deserves that.

Thank you ♥
themoononastick From: themoononastick Date: February 28th, 2011 09:27 pm (UTC) (Link)
I really, really love this 'verse and I want you to write in it for ever. <3333
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 12:36 pm (UTC) (Link)
One day I'll have to attempt the actual Mikey/Ryan parts, just for you!
ina_pok From: ina_pok Date: February 28th, 2011 10:26 pm (UTC) (Link)
This is so awesome!!!
I loved the GSF so much and you fit this in perfectly!!
The Ryan/Mikey interaction works so well.
Those little pieces, like when Mikey brings him the food.
Or when he yells the "Don’t you fucking dare." at Ryan.

Oh Ryan :-( It would be easier to stop, just give in and let himself drift. But Ryan won’t. If he has to die he’ll go down fighting. Never give up, never give in. It’s what Ryan does.

“Jesus. What’s with you and the white suits?” Haha. Yeah, well. It's Mikey. :-)

Yay, lots of ♥ for this story
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 12:26 pm (UTC) (Link)
Your comments. They seriously make my day.

I'm thrilled you think this fits into the main story well. Though it did help that I'd finished that so recently so still had the verse stuck in my head.

I really like Ryan and Mikey together. It's such a rare pairing but I do think they'd make good friends once they got past the initial 'we're nothing alike' reaction, and I extend that to this verse too.

Before I started writing this I kept thinking of the others taking the piss out of Mikey for him always being attracted to Dracs, and how they could tease him by actually wearing white one night. Sadly that kind of scene wouldn't fit into this story, but it's there in the background, just unsaid.

Thank you!
kopperblaze From: kopperblaze Date: February 28th, 2011 11:04 pm (UTC) (Link)
i was so so so excited when i saw this show up on my f-list earlier. curling up on bed with a cup of tea and reading this? perfect. seriously.

so much h/c and it made my heart clench and ugh it was just perfect! SO.MUCH.LOVE

turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 12:19 pm (UTC) (Link)
I'm glad you liked.

Curling up in bed with a cup of tea and h/c fic sounds wonderful.

Thank you ♥
x_dark_siren_x From: x_dark_siren_x Date: February 28th, 2011 11:10 pm (UTC) (Link)
Oh, that - that was painful to read, in a very visceral way. a good way too, y'know? Poor Ryan. I'm actually rubbing at my own wrists right now. One can only imagine how much more difficult that world would be without the use of your hands. (I also really liked the hints back to Embers..., which I now realise I never commented on when I first read it. :S Sorry!)

That all being said, I think my favourite part was probably Korse snarls, and he’s got his face against Ryan’s, the gesture terrifyingly intimate. - and not just because I have this weird obsession with Korse (though I do); but because it just sums him up perfectly while painting this incredible picture, and in such a short space. It gives me shivers. :D
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 12:02 pm (UTC) (Link)
Poor Ryan is right. When I first asked for a mini bingo square for the challenge I had no intention of writing Ryan in this verse, but then I saw that picture and knew that I had to.

Being without your hands would suck big time. Ryan's going to have an anxious time until he finds out if they actually heal. And no worries about that comment. I'm just glad to know you liked the main story <3

Korse is a fabulous character, and I think he does like to get really close to the people he's victimising/hurting/shooting, as is shown by that scene with Gerard. So I could easily see him pulling Ryan in close. I'm glad you could see that too.

Thank you for such a lovely comment.
greenskribbles From: greenskribbles Date: March 1st, 2011 03:02 am (UTC) (Link)
I just want to roll around in this verse forever
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 11:51 am (UTC) (Link)
That's an awesome compliment. Thank you!
arsenicjade From: arsenicjade Date: March 1st, 2011 04:32 am (UTC) (Link)
Okay, obvs I don't really know the 'verse, but um, this fic is kind of the fic of my HEART between Ryan, Mikey and Bob. UGH, THAT LAST LINE.
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 11:36 am (UTC) (Link)
Well, really the 'other story in a nutshell is me being mean to Mikey and the others looking after him.

Ryan is getting people who'll look after him! People who care and will stop him being so lonely.
hammerhead22 From: hammerhead22 Date: March 1st, 2011 06:58 am (UTC) (Link)
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 11:32 am (UTC) (Link)
Thank you!
egelantier From: egelantier Date: March 1st, 2011 09:52 am (UTC) (Link)
i'm so content with the universe right now :D
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 1st, 2011 11:31 am (UTC) (Link)
And I'm looking at you with heart-eyes right now ♥
slashxmistress From: slashxmistress Date: March 1st, 2011 06:18 pm (UTC) (Link)
Haven't read it yet (I'm still stuck on library internet time :( ) but I'm taking this one home with me to read!! You had me at Ryan/Mikey H/C - but you knew that right?
God I miss you guys so much !
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 4th, 2011 07:48 pm (UTC) (Link)
Ahahaha. Yeah. I figured it would hit the mark for you too.

I hope you enjoyed.
harborshore From: harborshore Date: March 1st, 2011 10:38 pm (UTC) (Link)
turps33 From: turps33 Date: March 4th, 2011 07:49 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thank you!
43 mutant blasts or blast me
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