BAH. THIS DISPLEASES ME.
And yet I am still going to post it in the hopes that somebody might like it. So here it is.
The comics this story is based off of are the property of the Dark Lord Vasquez, who probably feasts on the essence of those who don't credit him.
I CREDITED, VASQUEZ, LEAVE MY ESSENCE ALONE. I NEED THAT.
'Red...red...red...where the hell is the damn red?'
Devi gave a sigh, running a hand through her choppy purple hair. Maybe she should just go home and mix her own red. Odds were, hers would turn out better anyway.
Disregarding the moment's mild annoyance, this had been a really good day. She'd finally moved into her new place, which Tenna was now haunting in hysterics (bad) over Spooky losing his squeakiness. (good) The spot she was renting had no neighbors to speak of, so she could be as she chose (good). And best of all, Sickness had hardly said a word all week. (excellent).
Again, a really good day.
It was downright suspicious.
No day, Devi considered, browsing through the store's collection of paintbrushes, could be this perfect. No. It was the universe trying to lull her into a false sense of security. Yep, that had to be it.
"It's not going to work," She informed the universe aloud. "I know what you're trying to do. And it won't work. I know all your tricks, your plans. I am 100 percent prepared for anything you can throw at me."
"Devi?"
"Except that."
The last two words were whispered. Even without turning around, she knew who the speaker was. She'd have recognized that voice anywhere.
'Johnny the Homicidal Maniac is standing behind me.'
That was her last coherent thought before she dodged the paintbrush display and RAN.
Devi had no real destination in mind other than 'away', and was still learning her way around the little town, so she soon reached a dead end. Staring blankly at the wall in front of her, Devi sank to her knees, exhausted.
'This can't be happening. I moved! Why is he here?! How the hell did he find out were I am?!
Guess I'd better get some sore mace. Of course I end up running into him the day I leave it at ho-Oh God.'
Footsteps penetrated the silence of the little alley. Squeezing her eyes shut, Devi heard him come up behind her, steps now accompanied by panting.
"You okay?"
Devi opened her eyes, half surprised, half confused. It wasn't so much the fact that he cared enough to ask- he'd always been like that towards her, even after she beat him up- as the words themselves that startled her. Why did that sound so familiar? Who had asked her that before?
'Devi!Focus! You are not going through the attempted murder thing again. Fight back dammit!'
Heeding her violent urges for the first time in a good long while, Devi clenched her fists, shot to her arfeet, whirled around and launched her right fist directly at Nny's face using all the speed, strength, and precision she possessed.
'Dafuq? What's the matter with you?!'
To his credit, Nny had not flinched. Now he went cross-eyed trying to look at the fist which had stopped less than an inch away from his face.
'...Why does that look familiar?'
"I've seen you before," Devi muttered, not really talking to him.
Nny blinked. "Uh, yeah. We dated, remember?"
That brought her back down to earth.
Launching a roundhouse kick, she caught him soundly in the head. Nny gave a yowl of pain and careened into a wall, clutching his injured cranium. And for the second time that day, Devi ran, this time not stopping until she reached home.
Upon returning to the house, she was greeted by a beaming Tenna, hysterics apparently forgotten. "Devi! Guess what?! I fixed Mr. Spooky! Isn't that fanta- Devs? Devi, you all right?"
Devi barely heard her. Striding past, she went into her new bedroom, slammed and locked the door, and flopped onto her bed.
"What the hell was that?" She asked the empty room at large.
There was no answer. Not even from Sickness.
"This makes no sense...why did I feel like this happened before? Crossed eyes, 'you okay?', what the-"
She suddenly stopped, giving a strangled gasp. A memory had come floating out from the little closet in the back of her mind where it had been shoved long ago.
K
The atmosphere in the little run down office could have been cut with a knife, so strong were the waves of dislike. The blonde school therapist's smile was becoming more and more fixed.
"So!" she began with forced cheerfulness. "Do you know why you're here?"
Devi said nothing, shooting the older woman a look of deep disgust through a curtain of coal-black hair. The therapist's smile slid off her face.
"I'll take that as a no. I'll explain, shall I?"
Shall, Devi thought scathingly. What normal person used the word 'shall'?
"We both know your mother-well, she is-"
"Dead," Devi said bluntly. "She's dead. What about it?"
This was not the reaction the therapist had been expecting. She blinked rapidly several times, then coughed, returning to her professional air.
"Well. Your loss occurred not so long ago-"
"Six months."
"-your father requested we assist you-"
"Like HE can talk."
"The mental and emotional well-being of students is very important here at Membrane High School-"
Here Devi gave a snort. There was a flash of irritation on the therapist's face before she forced an expression of sympathy and understanding.
"I know how you're feeling right now. You're sad, and angry, and you desperately want your life to return to the way it was-"
"Not really."
"Devilyn, would you please stop interrupting me? It's very rude. In fact, the reason you keep interrupting me probably stems from the trauma of your mother's passing, a symptom of grief expressed through bad behavior and a sign of emotional-"
"Do not call me 'Devilyn'," Devi snapped, narrowing her green eyes. "It's Devi."
"Devilyn is your given name, isn't it?" The therapist had an 'Ah-ha!' expression, convinced she had made a breakthrough. "In fact, your father tells me it was actually your mother who chose that name. Is that true? It's connected to why you don't like your proper name, isn't it?"
Devi had had enough. Getting to her feet, she swung on her backpack and stomped out the door. "I'm done."
"Excuse me, young lady. We are not finished! Devilyn! Devilyn Desmonte, you come back here right now!"
Twenty minutes later, Devi got off the city bus and headed up to the hill she liked, overlooking the city. The bus drove on with a blast of noxious fumes.
Sitting down, she dug out her sketchbook and some of her good pencils. This was her favorite spots for art, with no one around to question her playing truant. It was too bad she hadn't brought her painting stuff.
She started trying to sketch out an idea she'd had earlier that she thought would make a good painting- a rabbit exacting its revenge on a magician. Unfortunately, it wasn't turning out well at all.
With a sigh of frustration, Devi let her mind wander while her pen doodled. What was wrong with her lately? She hadn't been able to draw for crap. The attempts at painting were better left unthought of. She'd actually been forced to burn a few.
Coming back down to earth, she took a look at what she'd drawn, and spoke a word which no fourteen-year-old should know.
It was still very much a sketch, and far from realistic, but the anguished little face in the corner of the paper still bore a disturbing resemblance to someone she knew very well.
"...Mom."
Slamming down her sketchbook, Devi snatched up a stick and began attacking everything surrounding her, imagining herself to be striking down all her problems. Take that stupid therapist! Take this Dad, for being too weak to stay strong for his own stupid kid! DIE snot nosed degenerate classmates, for finding that creepy Desmonte girl and her failures oh-so-funny!
And MOM. MOM, who was supposed to be dead, but was somehow still EVERYWHERE.
Devi swung around, cracking her stick against the ground before bringing it up again and then coming to a halt, finding herself attacking a person.
He was a tall, thin, vaguely Hispanic looking boy about her age, rather reminiscent of a scarecrow. Devi felt sure a strong wind could blow him over.
The strange boy had gone cross-eyed trying to look at the stick roughly an inch away from his nose. Devi removed it, feeling uncomfortable. "Sorry. Didn't see you there."
He shrugged in a 'no big deal' kind of way. Then, in tones nearly as uncomfortable as she felt, he asked "You okay?"
To her horror, Devi discovered she'd been crying. No wonder he'd looked so uncomfortable.
"Fine! I'm fine. I am totally," She turned away, surreptitiously scrubbing at her eyes. "Fine."
Out of the corner of her eye, Devi watched the kid nod, awkwardly. She walked back to her sketchbook, sat down, and waited for him to leave.
To her frustration and mild dismay, he didn't. Instead, he sat down, opened up the book he'd been carrying under one arm, and began drawing, apparently working on his sketchbook.
Well. At least he wasn't totally stupid.
With a huffing breath, Devi picked up a marker from where she'd dumped her supplies and began violently scribbling out the face she'd drawn. She and kid worked in silence for a good long period. She began to forget he was there.
Then:
"When did your mom die?"
Shocked, Devi dropped her marker before whirling around to glare at him suspiciously. "How did you know about that?!"
Kid shifted, looking rather as though he wished he hadn't brought it up.
"Uh. Well. It was when I first showed up, and you were having your-" He looked very tempted to say 'rampage', but wisely thought better of it. "-you were sort of...screaming."
Oh. That explained it. "A while ago. Like, six months. Dunno why you'd care."
She also didn't know why she was telling this to a complete stranger. Stupid kid, weaseling stuff out of her when it was absolutely none of his business.
"It never- it never totally stops hurting," Kid said quietly after thinking for a moment. "But it get better after a while. It numbs, I guess."
Devi sucked in a sharp breath, eyes stinging. She wasn't mad at him, but she wasn't sure how she felt about the information he'd just given her.
"...Thanks."
"No problem."
"You know," She said, cracking a smile. "You're the first person to tell me something other then sorry."
"Then it was about time somebody did." Kid said, seemingly more comfortable with the conversation. "I've never understood why that's the proper response. It's such a stupid thing to tell someone."
"It is. I hate that. The hell makes people think an apology's going to fix anything? THINK for once in your pathetic lives, about what you're saying."
"Idiots."
"Idiots."
They shared a smirk, enjoying their antisocial bonding.
They continued talking for a while, losing track of time and purpose. It was kind of funny, Devi reflected in the back of her mind. She and Kid knew next to nothing about each other, but their conversation was the first she had actually enjoyed in the past six months.
God, it was nice not having to censor the weird or macabre from her speech. Kid was weirder and more macabre by far.
"...you start to feel like you're living in the intestines of some kind of horrible bloated monstrosity- and no one else ever notices. It's a good thing we're both here," Kid glanced up at the sky, mumbling to himself. "Never a good idea, wandering around by yourself. Not on a Tuesday, anyway."
"Why's that?" Devi asked, sliding back into conversation. Kid gave a small start.
"Oh...aliens."
"Aliens?" She wasn't sure if he was serious or not. It was hard to say.
"Aliens." He nodded seriously. "They always show up on Tuesday, every week. ALWAYS."
"Okay," She decided to just go along with it. "Why Tuesday?"
"Hell if I know," Kid shrugged. "They just do. I think it might be because everything else happens on a Saturday. If aliens came, you'd expect them THEN- so they come on Tuesday, like a sneak attack."
"..That...that actually kind of make sense."
"'Course it does, it 's true. I think it is, anyway."
Devi rolled her eyes, but didn't contradict him. Who knew? Maybe it was.
"Right. Can I ask you something?"
"Mm?"
"Who did you lose?"
Tearing his attention away from the sky, Kid looked at her, expression unreadable.
"What makes you think I lost someone?"
"It's..." Devi searched for the words she wanted, trying to explain what she meant. "It's...it's the things you said. Like when you told me about going numb, and you knew about 'sorry', and...I don't know. You know. If you didn't know what it was like, you would have just said 'sorry', like every other stupid person and left it at that."
Kid looked at her with tired eyes, then turned his attention back to the sky. The expression he had now was one that she knew. It was exhaustion and pain, and it was the same look she saw on Dad's face every day, or on her own when she saw a picture from when her family had been normal.
It was grief, and the difference between his and hers was that it seemed more to fit his face, like he'd worn it long enough for it to belong there.
"When I..." He began quietly, and then trailed off like he wasn't totally sure what to say. Devi waited, letting him work it out. He chewed on his lip for a moment, then tried again.
"When I was eight years old," Kid said, looking like he was actually thinking about what he was talking about. "I lived in this really boring neighborhood with my Mom and Dad. It was like one of those places you see on really shitty old sitcoms, so NORMAL you figure 'There's no way that can be real'. One of those places.
Except that it wasn't actually a shitcom, so bad stuff happened, and one day... well, something bad happened. There was a house fire- I'd love to see THAT happen on 'Full House'- and the house burned down. And not everybody got out."
Devi stared him in shock- which was quickly replaced by horrified guilt. Why had she asked him that? What, by the devil and all his cheerleader, wonderbra, Kardashian-spawning pestilence had made her think it was the least bit okay to ask him that question?
Kid looked over at her from the sky, giving an awkward smile. "You're not gonna say 'sorry' are you?"
"I shouldn't have asked you that."
"I asked you. It was only fair."
"Y-yeah- but-" Devi found herself floundering, and tried to think of something, ANYTHING to say besides 'sorry'.
"What happened to you afterward? I mean, what are you doing now?"
"Well, I got put in foster care...and that's what I'm doing now."
"Foster care."
"Foster home."
"How's that been?"
"Um...not bad. Not GREAT, but okay. It's a roof, and food I don't have to pay for."
"But home?"
"No. Calling it 'home' is kind of an exaggeration. But it's not that bad."
"..."
"I'd better get back, anyway." Kid got to his feet and stretched, reminding Devi weirdly of an alley cat. "The people I'm staying with are kind of touchy about me just disappearing."
"Um. Yeah, I'd guess I'd better go too. School's probably over by now." Stuffing her sketchbook into her backpack, she followed suit. Slinging it on, she watched as Kid headed down the hill before something occurred to her.
"Hey!"
He paused in his descent, turning.
"I'm Devi. Devi Desmonte." Feeling slightly self-concious, she added "I never told you may name."
Kid considered this, then gave a slight smile.
"I'm Johnny. Johnny Colt."
K
Devi stared wide eyed at the ceiling.
'What. The. Actual. F*ck. I knew Nny?! Back before he was Nny?! Is this some kind of sick cosmic joke?!'
"Devi? Devs? Devi D., you better come out right now! Don't make me break down the door, 'cuz that would seriously suck-"
Devi slammed open the door, nearly catching Tenna in the nose. The dark-skinned girl gave a yelp of surprise, nearly choking Spooky. "Shit, Devi! I just wanted to make sure you were okay! You've been in that room for- hey, are you all right? You look like you just saw something mentally scarring."
"Devi ignored her and wandered dazedly over to the couch. Sitting down, she stared up at the ceiling, saying in a voice that sounded odd even to herself:
"I ran into Nny today."
She heard Tenna's cat-like hiss, but didn't bother to look at her. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me! We JUST MOVED, dammit! It's like he's been stalking you his whole life!"
That one deemed a reaction. Devi tore her eyes away from the ceiling to stare at her friend. "Tenna?"
"Eh?"
"D'you want to hear a story?"