Disclaimer: Christine is totally owned by Stephen king!

Summary: What if Dennis can save Arnie from Christine? pre-Slash

Severing Ties

Chapter One: Dennis I

I couldn't get the sick feeling out of my stomach as I laid in bed. It was Friday night and I should be out there with Roseanne doing 'the dance' for a hand job instead of in my room thinking about my pimply best friend, Arnie Cunningham. That's right. He's the guy who looks like he has a raspberry for a face and who's daily routing consists of receiving a good thrashing from 'the shitters' who's IQs are in the single digits. The same Arnie Cunningham who sold his soul to the devil when he bought his first car, and I couldn't get him out of my head.

I turned onto my stomach and smothered my face into my pillow.

Christine

The name felt like acid every time I thought of it. What I wouldn't give to douse her-it in acid. But then I thought of Arnie crying hysterically over his acid-covered bitch-car. My poor loser friend who looked as if he was beat with an ugly stick. Sure, he had a charming personality and a sense of humor, but I know I am (and have been) the only person to ever see it. But I guess seeing the inside of a person is hard when his outside is oozing with puss when he drinks too much soda ( in which case the only thing uglier is his 1958 Plymouth Fury). My poor, loser friend. He has the face only a mother could love…and, boy, did he know it.

But I'll argue that untrue. I rolled onto my back again. I love him, even if he is a little loser, he is my best friend and friendship is blind. But that's not all. It's hard to ignore this, but his face has cleared up a bit, and I notice the pretty Massachusetts girl, Leigh Cabot, staring at him quite a bit, lately.

I let out a low moan and fought the urge to roll over again. This whole mess is to painful to think about and I can't help but feel that there won't be a happy ending to this all. But maybe, just maybe, Leigh can be his saving grace from Christine, but can anything save him now? Christine had crashed her way into his heart and wrapped her cold, metal body around it. Her grip, I can tell, continues to grow tighter and tighter the more he works on her, and he's with her-it now.

I'm losing my best friend to a God-forsaken car but I'm not going to let my ugly friend go down like that. I thought of Rolland LeBay who died recently and at his funeral, those who should have known him best, hardly knew him at all. But Arnie went to his funeral and cried for him (as if he's worth crying over). He and Arnie were alike because of Christine, as one husband of Christine to another. I could see LeBay in Arnie, lately, sneaking beneath his eyes and in the way he spoke and as unreasonable as it sounds, I know its Christine's fault. If I don't sever his ties to that damn car, it wouldn't take long for another Rolland LeBay to form.

I sat up in my bed and ran from the room. I didn't care that my hair was crazy or that my clothes were wrinkled. Downstairs in the kitchen I could see my mom proofreading one of her poems at the kitchen table and my dad sleeping in front of the TV with a bag of chips on the floor at his feet. My sister, Elaine, must be at a friend's house or on a date (I hope it's the former), but wherever she was, it wasn't here.

I picked up the phone and dialed the Cunningham house number and waited through several rings. I was disappointed, however, when it was Regina who picked up.

"Hello," Her normal clipped echoed into my ear.

"Uh, hi," I said nervously, "It's Dennis."

"Dennis?" She asked but this time her voice had hardened and I wondered why. I thought I was 'pardoned' for Arnie's coup d'état.

"Yeah, is Arnie there?" I skipped right to the point. The less I talk to her, the less are my chances at being yelled at. I use to love this woman like a second mother, but I have no patience for her temper.

"No he hasn't been home all day," She snapped, "or for the past few days, for that matter."

Ah, so that's it. She blamed me for his disappearance . Not that I couldn't understand her worry and fear, because I did (maybe with better understanding).

"Oh, okay, thanks, bye," I hung up and ran a hand through my hair. So he wasn't home, or has been for days, perfect. "What the fuck are you doing, Arnie?" I mumbled. I wanted to curse him and find him then beat his senses back into him. Its not often that I'm the reasonable one in our friendship.

I blearily opened my eyes and saw my mom looking up from her poem.

"Is something wrong, honey?" She asked, "Is everything alright with Arnie?"

I nodded, "He's fine, everything is fine, Mom, but I'm gonna go out for a drive, okay?"

I left without waiting for her to answer because I could tell by her face that she was about to question me. Its not often-more like never that I go out for a 'drive'. After this whole ordeal with Christine is over, I don't know if I'll ever want to drive again.

I took off in my car and made for Darnell's garage. The spacious lot was covered in rusted down cars but none near as dilapidated as Christine had been. Note, it was 'had been'. In the passing months even I agreed that Arnie was coming along nicely with her. Could hear angry cries as other mechanics battled it out with their pieces of junk and I was still only out in the streets. I made sure to parks across from Darnell's before nervously walking in.

I wonder how Arnie would take me being in here. The garage seemed to be a club where Arnie was a member and I wasn't. I guess, I'm feeling a little left out. After all, now that he has Christine, does he even need me anymore or anyone, now. As I actually walked past the gates I noticed how dark it was. Now that the sun had done down, the only light source seemed to come from flashlights of the dedicated do-it-yourself mechanics and from Darnell's office. Where he was probably playing a poker game. I hope he doesn't come out and kick me out because, remember, I'm not part of the club.

I walked into Garage 20 where I knew Christine was parked, and sure enough there she was and sure enough, so was Arnie. He was hunched over the car with her hood up inspecting the engine, staring is more like it. He didn't even have his tool kit with him.

"Hey, Arnie!" I called. I didn't want to make it seem like I snuck up on him because I knew even if I did walk loudly, he wouldn't have heard me.

But my voice scared him anyway because he jumped up and banged his head on the hood. I winced in sympathy pain before running off towards him. I was disappointed, however, to see that he cared more for the car's well-being than his own when he checked the hood for paint chippings or dents, no never mind the blood on his head, right?

When he was done with his inspection he turned to me with a surprise look mixed with annoyance, but he greeted me pleasantly enough. It was strange, though, to see that expression on his face, he was usually quite happy to see me, be whatever the time or place.

"Hey, Dennis," he waved, "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking up on you, is all," I shrugged. I moved to the side of Christine, out of her-its (IT! Damn it) way and found a small work bench to sit on. I gave the car a contemptuous glare and look up to see Arnie giving me a hard, studying look.

"For my parents?" He asked, "Why am I not surprised?"

I shook my head, "No, they have nothing to do with it. I just heard you've been here for days and 'I' got worried, okay?"

He still gave me a hard look and I wondered briefly, how he got to aggressive. "Why are you giving me a hard time about this?" He asked. "I mean-just why? Its only a car, why does everything seem to want to keep me from her?"

"No one's keeping you from her," I said, because he spends more time with her than with living people.

"Oh yeah, than why are you always giving me a hard time when I work on her, why are my parents trying to get me to sell her, why is Darnell trying to get me to scrap her?" He cried.

I wanted to say it was because Christine is evil and a murderer but that would be going too far. Arnie might just murder me.

So I could only shrug to answer his question.

"Right," he sighed, "Just do me a favor and stay away from here."

I went slack jawed and stared at him. Was he telling me to fuck off?

"What?" I cried. I felt a shiver go down me and I glanced at the car. The moonlight was hitting it from the open garage doors making her look alive and…happy.

I tore me eyes away from her-it. I glanced back at Arnie and he was still staring at me angrily.

"I don't want you around here anymore, all you want to do is rip on Christine," He explained. I stood up angry and stared at him.

"Um, hellooo?" I felt like I was in the fucking twilight zone. "She's a 'car'!"

"She's my car!" By now we're yelling at each other and I was afraid that Darnell would come out and help Arnie kick my ass to the curb. What a nightmare this is turning out to be. Was he really picking that car over me? I should've just called up Roseanne. At least with her I just have to 'mess around' a bit and pick up the tab and all's good.

"Yeah, she's your car and anyone can tell that, but I'm your best friend!" Does that even mean anything anymore?

"If you were my best friend then you wouldn't have a problem with Christine," He snapped.

This wasn't like Arnie at all. He was acting like an asshole and usually I'm the asshole in our friendship. When we were little, like twelve, we were suppose to go to a water park for the whole day but I ditched him to go on my first date. The girl (I can't remember her name) was pretty and I took her to the movies. We saw Arnie there with his parents and when he waved to me I got all embarrassed and pretended I didn't know him. The girl then began to laugh about what an ugly freak he was and our entire evening was ruined.

The next day I took Arnie to the ice cream store to make up for my poor behavior. He was so excited that it made me feel even guiltier.

He had more stock in our friendship than I did because I was his only friend but I had plenty others but now he was blowing me off. What a slap in the face, huh?

"Hey! Oh—its you," A gruff voiced snorted. I jumped and turned to the new voice. Out of the corner of my eye. I could see Arnie do the same thing.

Will Darnell was a big man with a fat belly hanging off of him. He had a large cigar in one of his sausage-like hands.

"How many times do I have to kick you out, Guilder? If you keep interfering with the peace of my hard working, paying customers I will throw you out myself."

I glared at him.

"Now, you heard what the kid said, get lost," He snapped.

I looked over at Arnie to see if he was serious about kicking me out but he wasn't even looking at me. He was standing by Christine stroking the closed hood. Jealousy flared up inside of me.

"Arnie, if I go," I began desperately, "I'll pretty much never see you again."

As lame as that sounded it was true. He was either her or…well here.

"Kid, cut the sappy shit," Darnell growled. He grabbed me by the shirt collar and began to pull me towards the gates.

So this is it. I wanted to call out to Arnie but he hadn't glanced at me once. He just continued to stroke her. He had chosen her.

My eyes burned at the humiliation I felt. I couldn't even beat out a car. I also ached for Arnie who seemed to have lost all senses and self respect and when I felt my eyes burn it was for our broken friendship.

As we neared the gate I pushed the man's fat hand from me and walked huffily towards my car. When I was inside I made sure to slam my door extra hard before I felt exhausted in my seat. Our friendship has ended but could I really let it go?