Author's Note: First off: Bloody Painter and the Puppeteer are in their pre-pasta forms. Pup is still human Jonathan, and Helen hasn't killed anyone yet. This is more or less an AU one-shot where they didn't go down the paths that led to their Creepypasta lives.

Secondly: Some head-canons are at play here as a lot of how I interpret these two is based off an ongoing roleplay with a friend. Helen, in this AU, does have a small heart, unlike canon.

Thirdly, you are completely free to interpret Helen and Johnny's relationship how you like. It can be platonic or it can be romantic, or it could be anywhere in between. Up to you.

Finally: constructive criticism is perfectly fine, haters will have their comments deleted and their accounts - if they have one - blocked. I'm here to provide entertainment and get productive feedback, not so you can bash at me.

Raindrops lightly pattered against the roof of a small house, gently accompanied by a choir of distant thunder and wind. The elements knocked for permission to enter with no reply, and the faint sounds of their requests left a sense of soft isolation that one would expect a lone bird in its nest to feel.

Inside the sturdy home, eerie stillness swam throughout the halls in the company of the dark, mingling together to create an atmosphere that lay heavily in the air. It roamed around like a panther, creeping up on the two residents in their beds and leaping on each. Loneliness and fear seeped through the phantom wounds into their hearts, fueling both as they curled up tightly.

The poisoned memories of a nightmare clouded around Helen slowly, becoming thicker and more toxic the longer he ruminated over them. Harsher and harsher the elements of the fog grew, until they stung his eyes and acidic tears began eking out. Each drop held some of the overflowing emotion plaguing his thin frame, silently carrying away the excess feelings before they could explode.

Slowly the erratic taps of his tears against the blanket merged with the sound of the rain, just the same as a set of light footsteps that slipped towards his room. Only the betrayal of a door's whine gave away the second male's presence as he entered, bringing the watering cerulean orbs up instantly.

"Johnny, w-what are you doing up...?" The breathy question bounced off a pair of broad shoulders as they jolted in a small shrug, falling to be forgotten on the cold wooden floorboards. Yet as the larger teen tread over it on his path to the bed, his response rose anxiously into the air.

"I, uh...i-it's dark, and..." And silence fell over the conversation, interrupted by the rustle of sheets being moved back to create a welcoming space that ended the explanation. After all, why explain when Helen already understood?

Actually, hold that thought. He more than understood, considering the past few months. It would be hard not to, spending so long running from a group of people with the predictability and mercy of a rabid wolf. Running from debts that couldn't be paid off and the repercussions of that inability. How-

"Helen, are you crying?" If cartoon physics applied to real life, the sound of screeching tires would have played off as Johnny knelt next to his friend, gently rubbing one of the smaller teen's cheeks dry. "What's wrong...?"

The panther's claws sank deeper into Helen's chest as he tried to respond, letting the cloud begin seeping around his lungs and cutting off what was meant to be reassurance. Helplessness dragged itself over his expression gradually the longer any words failed, each one of them washed back by small waves of emotion that overflowed from his eyes again.

"Okay, okay, don't need to answer," Johnny soothed, using the edge of his sleeve to towel off Helens' face a little roughly, aided by the short nod that answered. "...Were you thinking about Tom?" As was tradition set by a consistent pattern, it seemed the smaller of the two's face flinched in response, fingers gripping the clothing nearest to them. "Helen, you have to stop blaming yourself. It was his fault for standing that close to the edge, 'n you-"

"He wouldn't have fallen." The quiet mumble rolled over the small reassurance that had been tossed his way, flattening it thin as a blanket. "I...I grabbed him, and he went off balance... I...i-it was my fault..." The confession tugged at the muscles of Johnny's face, pulling it into a firm scowl as he gripped Helen's shoulders tightly.

"What's gonna happen tomorrow?"

"What? I'm... I don't know?"

"Exactly. You don't know. You can't predict the future, you can't know what'll happen in a year or in two minutes. Yeah, you shouldn't be rough with someone on a roof but you're not a killer, Helen. You hate punch ups, or even arguments. You wouldn't have let him fall if you could have stopped it... It can't be helped now, but at least remember that being sorry for something changes whether you're a bad person or not."

In the wake of those words, silence split by raindrops and thunder filled in for any verbal responses. Quietly, with the hesitation of a squirrel walking up to a possible trap, Helen's arms wrapped around Johnny tightly, gripping the back of his shirt for an anchor to reason. Apologies to a ghost long passed whispered out of the thin teen's frame, caught in the ears of his house mate.

Gradually, however, the words faded away, replaced by a small yawn that segued into gentle breaths. With all his emotion vented, Helen finally drew back, exchanging small smiles before lying down. Once againt the blanket of reassurance was placed over him, that time in the form of Johnny, who draped himself almost completely over his friend.

A slight smirk crossed the larger's face, painted into existence by the memories of the first time they'd slept with that position. He'd been so afraid of smothering Helen...after all, the guy was half his own body weight and seemed rather fragile. Yet oddly enough he always seemed more relaxed after getting sandwiched between the mattress and Johnny.

Then again, that could be the reason, couldn't it? Helen was fragile to some degree. His small heart and therefor his weaker body always meant he wasn't capable of handling fights with anyone above the age of twelve very well, not to mention the history of bullying he'd endured. It wasn't that strange to find comfort in someone larger and stronger being nearby, much less literally being a personal blanket.

It really was no wonder why they preferred each other's company...