[I do not own Teen Titans, Johnny Rancid, or Punk Rocket. Hello friends! I don't know why I like this pairing so much, I just feel like it should be a thing. If you don't like then you don't like it I guess, but I'd be thankful if you read this and gave it a try. Also here's to me finally writing out some of my 'schizophrenic Punk Rocket' headcanon. Don't think it came out to well but here it is anyway I guess.]
A teenage anarchist sat alone in his beaten down shared apartment bedroom, biting his lip in order not to cry. Men don't cry, men don't cry…
Thomas Ramona Leonard was not your normal case of 'villain hiding out'. Thomas was never 'normal' in any aspect, he never even had a chance at making it in the real world, so why bother trying to be 'good' in the first place? As a child, Thomas thought it was normal. He tried to tell his parents about the voices in his head, he really did, but they brushed it off as some kid playing tricks. They didn't understand...no one did. He was all alone, and the only person who'd ever stick around for Thomas was the voice.
Thomas hated Punk Rocket. He never wanted to be that, it just happened, it was something he couldn't control. He'd scream at the voices after they taunted him for too long, but eventually he'd black out. When he woke up, he was surrounded by a wake of destruction, hiding out from the heroes he looked up to as a child. His alter ego, his inner demon, his schizophrenic voice was Punk Rocket.
All the time, no matter what, it was always steal, destroy, kill. Nothing could ever stop the urges, no one.
Punk Rocket screamed bloody murder as he knelt to the ground of his messy room and yanked painfully on his bleach white hair. He just needed something to block it out, and his own screaming voice seemed to do the trick for the moment. Soon though, his already scratchy voice went out and he started brokenly sobbing, trashing his room in anger. Before this circus sideshow could continue, Thomas heard the sound of large feet stomping their way to his room. Yeah - he always did seem to forget about Johnny. So far Johnny Rancid was the only person who hadn't run away or called him loony, it was surreal to Thomas.
"Leonard! Leonard you open this door or I swear I'll kick it the fuck down!" Johnny said menacingly, while this would terrify most it only caused a hopeful feeling to settle in Thomas.
Thomas looked up at the door hopefully, his baggy, tired eyes lighting up with something most obviously more than 'a friend is visiting'. Before he could move his still trembling body to open the door however, the voices came back.
"Don't you see it you worthless little fuck? He doesn't care about you, he's using you. Do you really think anyone could love a stupid shit like you? Just like everyone else, don't you think it's time to just finish it? Everyone wants you dead as it is, why not make it a reality? No one would miss you, especially not him!" Cackled the ghastly voice of Punk Rocket's inner demons.
"S-shut...s-s-shut UP!" Screamed Rocket, fresh tears streaming down his face again as he clutched at his hair once more.
Thomas' door was easily kicked down by Johnny as promised and Johnny rushed to his fallen friend, tearing his hands away from his hair. Thomas weakly looked up at him, his lips trembling and his already pale face looking ghostly.
"What did this to you…" Johnny mumbled to himself as he held Thomas tight, letting him cry into his chest.
Johnny met Thomas a long time ago. He found the british musician lost and afraid on the curb of a street while it was raining. Johnny had only meant to go get some food for his apartment, not take in some psychotic hobo with a knack for pissing off the titans. He did anyway, of course. Johnny had only decided to let him stay for one night, to just keep him out of the rain and maybe let him eat something. It took only that one night for the rocker to capture the biker's stone cold heart.
The pair knew things about each other no one else in the world knew. Johnny actually really liked physical contact and things like cuddling, Thomas knew how to play not only the guitar but the violin and piano as well, and they both loved 30 seconds to Mars. Soon, without meaning to let it happen, nights turn into weeks which turn into months which morphed into a heartsick pining biker and an oblivious sick to the head rocker. The two could often be found sitting in Johnny's garage. Johnny would meddle with his bike and other various machines while Thomas would watch him with mild interest and hum rock songs. It was even oftener than Thomas would be found having fallen asleep on Johnny's shoulder or in his lap, snoring obnoxiously.
Johnny mumbled soothing things to his friend to calm him down, trying to cheer him up in any way. Soon Thomas' sobbing became laughing which worried Johnny more than he would ever admit.
"It's funny y'know?" Thomas said in his thick british accent from Johnny's chest, where his head was still buried.
"I always thought that, there was never any kind of hope for shitheads like me. Then you come along with your big burly way of looking, and you just...you're there. All the time, for me. I just...I know I don't say it often Johnny." Thomas mumbled tiredly.
"Thank you, Johnathan Garrett." Thomas mumbled softly as he kissed Johnny Rancid's now beet red cheek. Before Johnny could recover and react properly, Thomas fell snoring into his arms, not worried a bit about the voices anymore.
Johnny rolled and his eyes and smiled, trying to forget the tingling sensation in his cheek.
"Told you you're gay would rub off on me or somethin'." Thomas mumbled sleepily as Johnny laid him down on his bed and barked out a laugh.
[Come talk to me about my trash children, please. Also I'm not even gonna get into my 'Junkrat and Lobo are literally Punk and Johnny's fathers' headcanon yet, but I'd be willing to write it out if you helped me with ideas to make them meet somehow!]