AN: Hello! It's me again. I can't stop writing Welcome To Hell, dammit! Have a Highschool!Human!AU.
~AP


No. It wasn't Sock. It couldn't be. Not cheerful, overenthusiastic, annoying but frankly lovable Sock. It...It couldn't have been.

It can't.


"If you lay ONE MORE FINGER ON MY FRIEND, I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE!" Jonathan turned to the side, his face still stinging from the punch. Sock was marching down the hallway angrily. The group of boys laughed. Sock was shorter than most 17-year-olds, and he looked childish and innocent, like he was from a J&I School. Being in highschool, almost ready to graduate, this didn't help the boy. He also had a...unique sense of style. The purple skirt and hat that somehow contained his gravity-defying hair attracted a lot of attention to his friend, but it never seemed to bother the boy.

Jonathan knew by now that the innocence in Sock's features was not, in fact, a reality. Jon groaned. "Aw, has little baby Jonny called his boyfriend to protect him? How pathetic. Sorry, shortie, we ain't backin' off unless you make us." Jon groaned again. Why did the leader of their group have to be SUCH an idiot? It took about five seconds for Sock to reach them before the guy was clutching his middles after a very hard kick there with some worn-out Doc Martins. "Well, you asked for it." Sock shrugged as the taller boy glared at him. "Who's a shortie now, hm?" The brunet giggled.

It was a short time he was grinning, because it went quite quickly after he recieved a blow in the stomach, sending him banging against the lockers sickeningly loudly. He slid to the ground after that, clutching his head where it flew against the metal. The other boys gathered around him, much to Jonathan's dismay, and all started on the small boy. The blonde tried to interfere, but his injuries sustained from them throughout the day prevented him from even standing. The teen flinched at every yelp of his pained friend and wished he had one of those superhero moments and beat them all up. But he didn't.

After a while of beating Sock, the guys got bored and left. Despite his obvious weakness now, Sock hopped up as soon as they were out of sight and hearing distance. "You OK?" He hauled Jon up until he was leaning on him. "Nothing I can't deal with. They spent most of their time on you." Sock brushed it off.
"Yeah, but I'm fine. Nothing I'm not used to. You need a hospital?"
"Nah. You're late for your bus, man. You need to get home. Your parents'll-"
"My parents can do whatever they want, you need my help." Sock supported the guy into the shotgun seat of a purple Nissan Micro. Jon stared at Sock as he hopped into the driver's side. "You have a driver's licence?"
"Always the air of surprise." Sock said jokingly. "I passed the test in January." Jon nodded. You wouldn't think someone like Sock to be the driving type.

Sock pulled into Jonathan's driveway. The blonde's Mom (AN: I'M TRYING TO BE AMERICAN SORRY) wouldn't mind. She reckoned that Sock would be a good influence on her son.

The boy helped his friend to his house and then plopped him on the sofa. "Wait here." He ran into the kitchen. Mrs. Combs looked up. "Oh! Sock, darling, what happened?"
"Hi, Mrs Combs. I'll have to tell you later. First Aid kit?"

He came back with a box and began cleaning Jonathan up, even though he was much worse and still bleeding from his head and nose and probably a couple of other places. When Jon was feeling fine enough, he spun to Sock, sat him on the sofa and muttered: "Stop being so BRAVE. I know you're hurting."

Sock opened his mouth to speak. "No buts. No 'I'm fine' s. You aren't. For once, just let me take care of you, OK?" Jon's voice was gentle but firm as he cleaned his friend.


After a couple of hours, both were cleaned up and feeling better, and had lied until their tongues turned black until Mrs Combs leaved them alone.

"Sock, why'd you have to get involved?"
"'Cause you're my friend." He yawned. "I'm just like that. Too bad I didn't have Viktor with me though." Viktor was, weirdly, the name of the butchering knife Sock had stolen and kept since he was a young child. Jonathan knew it was morbid, but he laughed a little. He'd learned to appreciate Sock as he was, even with the annoyingness and very obvious homicidal tendencies. "You're such a little demon, you know that?" Jon chuckled.
"Mm. But you love me, right?"
"Yeah. 'Cause you're my little demon."

They fell asleep embracing.


AN: You're going to kill me. I'M SORRY! Review if you liked or feel like skinning me alive, either works!
~AP