Author's Note: I'm sorry, you guys! I'm having problems focusing on one story. The ideas just sort of pop up... and leave... I'm working on a chapter for Infected right now... JRC should be updated soon. As for The Godfather... because I haven't been able to watch it recently, that might go on hiatus.

Blood soaked Walls might get deleted, I don't think I can write that one anymore. All my muse has vanished, and Cheater and Reed keep bantering inside my head— drives me nuts.

So I don't know what I'm going to do about this anymore, I go on here enough but lately I've been experiencing a hell of a lot of writers block. Maybe I just need to sleep more or something. Getting ready for high school doesn't help much either. I've spent the last week touring my high school, voting for ASBEC, picking my classes... freaking out about grades... etc. A poetry contest I entered in November... the results were sent to me in the mail and my poem is being published, but only the winners can actually purchase the book (which sucks, but I'm happy. I've been published... sorta).

But you don't want to hear about that, right? xD You want to read the story (or I hope that's why you're here).
On we go.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters you have heard of, and I do not own where this idea came from. Normal Again, which is a Buffy episode is responsible for this, and the person who gave me the idea for watching this episode is The Second Batgirl, who wrote Shades of Grey, a Newsies fic.

Longest disclaimer for one of my fics? I think so.

"You're dead, greaser! Worthless piece of shit!"

Johnny dashed through the seemingly never-ending rows of houses, dodging people on the sidewalk and the occasional car when crossing the street became unavoidable. His breath was coming in gasps, and he was quickly running out of the energy he needed to escape his pursuer.

The whole chain of events that had led up to this moment had not been Johnny's fault at all. He had simply been reaching in his locker to search for his history homework and a nicely dressed girl walked up to his locker and began to talk to him.

Johnny, while not the most intelligent person, knew that a nice-looking girl didn't just walk up to a greaser and start talking.

Something was up.

It was then that an angry yell came from the end of the hallway. Johnny turned fearfully and saw none other than the captain of the football team, Travis Clark, making his way towards them.

Travis Clark was a large, well-built senior who had a reputation for dating girls for about a week, having sex with them, and dumping them shortly after. He had a lot of money, and therefore thought he could date whoever he pleased. Despite this little flaw, people still continued to fawn over him, and girls would run off to brag to their friends when he winked at them in the hallway.

Another thing that he had a reputation for was his bad temper.

"Were you hitting on my girl?!" He bellowed, bits of spit flying out of his mouth and landing on Johnny and whatever was behind him. One of Travis' large fists smashed into the locker next to him, creating a dent.

"N-n-n-n-"

"WELL?!"

"No... I wasn't... she was just..." Johnny stammered, looking fearfully from Travis to the dent in the locker next to him. That could be his head in a few minutes.

"Nobody hits on my girl, grease ball. I'm gonna kick you're a—"

At that moment, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next class. Johnny thanked whoever had thought up the bell, and the entire school system. He ducked under Travis' arm and scampered down the hall, not once looking back.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, and Johnny just about forgot about Travis Clark. That is, until he walked out the front doors at the end of the day.

And this is where we came in.

Johnny continued to run, all the while slowing down from lack of energy. His footsteps made a sort of slapping sounds on the pavement. Mixed with his heavy breathing, it made a rhythm that seemed to remind him to keep going.

Keep going, or he was going to die.

He skidded around a corner, nearly loosing his balance, and stopped. His eyes widened in horror, and he let out a shocked gasp. Standing before him was none other than Mr. Travis Clark.

Johnny barely had time to turn around, before a large pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders, and he was slammed into a wall. Something cold was pressed against his throat; a knife.

His breath began to come in gasps, and he shut his eyes tight. Oh god, I'm gonna die... I'm gonna die... this is it...

"Easy, grease. I'm not gonna kill you."

Johnny let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Yet."

Mentally, the young greaser damned that word and the long pause before it to the deepest depths of hell. Physically, he almost began to sob.

"Don't. You. Ever. Talk. To. My. Girlfriend. Again." Travis hissed, each time bringing his fist into Johnny's stomach.

"Okay, okay..." Johnny gasped, wishing that Travis would just leave him alone, maybe go to his girlfriend and regale her with the tale of how he beat up the guy that had been hitting on her earlier.

"How do I know you're being sincere?" Travis asked, his face close to Johnny's. Johnny could smell liquor mixed with cigarettes and God knows what else on his breath and tried not to gag, lest he anger the great beast even more. "How do I know you mean it?"

"I mean it!"

"What if you forget?"

"I won't, I promise... I really promise..." Johnny did not deal well with interrogation. He was used to just getting the beating, and then the whole thing was over. As it was, it was only a few punches to the chest and he was now being held against the wall, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground, with a very angry Soc asking him questions.

He felt like he was going to loose his mind, or start crying. Perhaps both, if God hated him that much.

"How do I know?"

The blade being pressed against his throat was gone. Travis dropped him, but kept a hand on his shoulder. He looked calm; almost as if he would let Johnny go with just a warning.

Such a thing did not happen, for moments later something, probably the blade, was pushed into his upper arm. Johnny began to struggle against Travis' grip, biting back the scream that threatened to spill past his lips.

"Mr. Cade, stop struggling..."

"He's going to break the needle! We're going to have to strap him down."

"No, he's calming down."

Johnny's eyes, once wide with terror, fluttered closed as he collapsed in the two orderlies arms.

Ending Note: What has happened?
Well, if it's not obvious, I'm a little amazed... not because I think it's obvious, but I'm afraid it may be obvious even though I don't want it to be.

In any case, my Johnny muse is going to murder me in my sleep for this... I'm so mean to him... but he knows I love him.

Until next time, kiddos!
(Seriously though, I'm going to start working on another chapter right now)