The Blindfold
Jade Harley had absolutely no idea what to do with this. The letter was clearly addressed to her. Her dog didn't like it; Bec had been snapping and growling at it since she got it in the mail. Gamzee, her boyfriend, wasn't around to provide his sage advice. Although, his advice was never sage - what with him being high all the time. Jade rolled her eyes at the thought. Why had Karkat set them up, again?
It was an invitation to something. To what, Jade didn't know. But whatever it was, the time was soon. She glanced at her fingers, covered in colorful strings. Jade flexed her index finger; she couldn't quite remember what that purple string meant...she had long ago assigned different colors to different things, but she had put the list somewhere. As to where it was? Jade...couldn't quite remember.
With a feeling she was forgetting to do something awfully important, she decided to go to the location the letter stated anyway. She looked through her gun cabinet and decided on her grandfather's dual pistols. She was more of a rifle gal, but that was really for hunting. Besides, the comfort of her grandfather made her feel more at ease. Though, she did always wear his lucky bullet around her neck. Touching the bullet fondly, she left her home with Bec barking at her heels.
"Good dog, best friend," She threw him a treat and closed the door behind him. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she walked down the blocks of the city until she found the street that the letter said to go to.
Jade wasn't nervous at all. Growing up in her grandfather's adventurous (though sometimes she questioned the verity of the tales) legacy only made her excited about the prospect of going somewhere new. Besides, the stationary was too nice for it to be a trap - and if this was a criminal trying to lure her in, then this criminal sure had pretty cursive penmanship! And, of course, was the fact that she had her grandpa's pistols with her. Jade was a damned good sharpshooter.
Her thoughts ended her right in front of an empty, abandoned store. Jade frowned, double checking the address with the building in front of her. It was the right building, alright. Old, and decrepit...not to mention it was dark inside. It was completely sketchy - her twin would never approve of her venturing in here alone. Gamzee probably would have tagged along with her, if he was high enough to be complacent for once. But he wasn't here, and neither was John.
Her hand on a pistol, she used the other to push the door open. As soon as she stepped in, the atmosphere of the place changed so dramatically, she thought she must have fallen asleep. She was suddenly inside what appeared to be a young man's room. There were posters on the wall, katanas hung up beside them, a turntable situated on a desk, a fan in the corner...Jade could have spent hours looking around.
"How cool!" She chirped, immediately captivated by the room.
"Finally, a girl who knows her shit."
On reflex, Jade drew her pistol and fired it towards the voice. It came from a blonde young man lounging on the sofa, eyes shaded by spiky sunglasses, his feet propped up on stacked cinder blocks that had an assortment of game magazines underneath his sneakers. He had a game controller in his hand, connected to a plasma screen TV. The bullet flying towards him didn't faze him, in fact it whizzed right by his nose and he didn't so much as flinch.
Jade heard loud cawing, and saw that outside the window was a murder of crows flying around. Wait...the sky outside was red? When did that happen? It had been a perfectly sunny day outside... She shook her head, remembering to ask the important questions. Mainly... "Hi! I'm Jade Harley, who're you?"
The young man didn't so much as look away from the game he was playing to respond, "Yeah, I know. I wrote your name on the letter, I'm not the cagey kind of dick that just looks up random girl's addresses and send them letters to my sweet bachelor pad. But it is sweet, sweet as my rhymes that should be a crime." She giggled, prompting him to continue, "Harley, that shit was weak as hell. That's where you are, by the way."
She blinked, and then laughed again. "Silly! That last part didn't even rhyme!"
"I'm as serious as the Joker in the Dark Knight, and shit that's serious," He said, pausing the game and finally looking at her. When he did, his mouth twitched. He might have been staring at her, but the pointy shades made it impossible to tell. The blonde's expression was impossible to decipher. "Dude, you're cramping my style like a surrogate mother would to Rumpelstiltskin."
"Huh?"
"Not talking to you, Harley," He explained, causing her to look around. There was no one else in the room. Was he schizophrenic? Geez, if she was dreaming, this was one hell of a dream. (She laughed to herself about her pun)"Let's just make this quick: I'm about to beat my bro's high score if I can land this combo. What's your wish? Don't leave me hanging like Aladdin; damn it took like an hour for Aladdin to spit it out."
"Wish?" Either he was crazy, or...well, actually, there was no other explanation for it. He still was pretty cool, for a dream-created schizo.
He sighed. "Flip that invitation like a bunch of goddamned pancakes, Harley. Did you even look at the back?"
She turned the invitation around to see that it did have writing on the back. After reading it over, she saw that it was an advertisement for being able to grant one's 'wish'. Jade flicked her emerald eyes back up to the blonde man, back at the invitation, before landing on him again.
"Are you a male prostitute?"
"What?" He seemed surprised, but his expression remained stagnant, "No! Fuck no. I'm a devil. Get a clue, there's literally an idiom about it in, like, every fucking language. Which is a lot of damn people that know about this. You know, the devil steals a person's soul for a wish kind of thing?"
Jade pulled out both pistols and aimed them at him. "If you're Satan, prove it."
"I think you mean the King of Hell - and in that case, that's my bro's title," The blonde shrugged a shoulder, "Don't need to split hairs, L'Óreal doesn't think I'm worth it. Call me Dave, and I'm a devil. Humans always get so fucking shocked when you see what 'Satan' actually looks like, it's pretty fucking hysterical. More than Nicholas Cage's performance in Con Air, but whatever."
"Hey!" Jade shouted, narrowing her eyes, "Con Air is a great movie! My brother and I watch it every year on our birthday!"
"Can your wish be to have a good sense in movies? We can have a movie marathon, I'll grab some turbo buttered popcorn, bags of candy - pretty much reenacting the entire scenery of Wreck-It Ralph in this fucking room. We can sit down and watch some goodass movies for an eternity or two, and then I'll chop up your timeline like a coda with the curse."
"No!" She huffed, "What kind of name is Dave for a devil, anyway? It sounds so modern! Your name should be Davidriel, or something!"
"I guess I can live with you changing my name, if I get to -"
"No!" Jade glared at him, "I'm not making any sort of stupid wish! I don't have anything that I want right now. I'm not dumb enough to sell my soul, okay?"
"This isn't like some kind of soul black market, okay? I don't deal with hearts and souls and shit. That's my brother's thing. Mine is time."
Though she wanted to desperately believe this was a dream, there was a part of Jade that knew it couldn't be. She had pretty detailed - and weird - dreams before, but she could distinguish them from reality. Despite the bizarre reality of the situation, she had no reason to believe she was dreaming. "Whatever you want from me, you're not getting it, buster!"
"Yeah, and that's why the fuckin' Heir of Doom is chillaxing on your shoulder," Dave said, which made Jade look around her. "You can't see him. I'm like Haley Joel Osment in The Sixth Sense, and you're Bruce Willis. Seeing dead people and shit, when you can't. Except, I'm seeing what you would call an Angel of Death. Doing that L'Óreal shit again, on our side we call him an Heir of Doom. He's hot glued to you, Harley."
"I'm going to die soon?" She asked, as Dave stood up and walked over to her. Though he was several inches taller than her, looking up at him did not let her see his eyes. Seeing him close up, however, let her note the freckles splashed on his cheeks and nose. For a devil, he was handsome. She guessed that was where the phrase handsome devil came from. He looked right past her, fixating on what she saw as nothing to her side. "I can take care of myself - I don't need some wish to make an Angel of Death go away!"
He didn't address her, instead speaking to what she assumed was a figment of his imagination. "Don't you have someone else to pull your shitty Doom magic on?" He asked, pausing. In that moment of silence, Jade swore she heard something. It wasn't a voice, but it was like a ringing. However, it was faint - it sounded like the noises her mind made up when she was about to fall asleep at night. "I'm like a vegetarian to your beef, so bring it on. Her timeline practically has the Strider stamp of ownership on it, so back the hell off."
"Ownership?" Now Jade was angry. Sure, Dave was really, really cooky - cool, but cooky - talking to invisible people and pretending to be Satan's brother. She pressed her pistol to his chest, her eyes burning with anger. She wasn't going to shoot him, but she wanted to prove that she wasn't some damsel he could talk about like she was a piece of property. Her trigger finger did not lay on the trigger as if she was about to shoot, since she wasn't planning on it.
"Just trying to make sure the Heir of Doom doesn't take your life before I get your time. Normal business, I go through with this shit all the time. We're like opposing dodgeball teams fated to clash at every annual tournament," He shrugged, looking down at her, "But if you want to shoot me so bad..."
He placed his hand over hers. Jade flinched at his touch. She was used to Gamzee's clammy, shaking cold hands. Dave's were surprisingly warm - nothing differentiated his touch from a normal human's, with the exception that it made her face heat up. His thumb rested on top of her trigger finger, folding it to actually rest on the trigger and applied just enough pressure for the familiar sound of a gunshot to rally off.
Jade didn't want to kill him, despite how crazy he was. She didn't want to see him dead. She had shot the most interesting - and possibly most mentally troubled - person she think she had ever encountered. Considering she knew Gamzee and Karkat, that was saying something.
When she dropped the pistol, she saw the bullet wound - how it had gone all the way through. She was in such shock that she didn't register the fact that he was still standing, and instead turned heel and ran right out of the room, opening the door and returning back to her world.
Dave didn't so much as raise an eyebrow as he held his hand over his 'wound'. A red clock appeared, the hands of it turning counterclockwise as the hole closed up, the condition of his body restoring itself. He picked up her pistols that she had dropped, recognizing the guns. She was related to English, huh? He knew he sensed something distinctly Jake English about that bullet around her neck. Dave had no time to reminisce, however. Though Jade had left, the Heir of Doom, whom he knew by name basis, was still there.
"Fairy Tuna," He started, the winged green-clad man looking at him when he said his nickname. Practically no one with a sense of humor called the Heir of Doom 'Mituna'. The visor covering his eyes made it impossible to establish eye contact, but somehow Dave knew that Mituna's bipolar personality was on his side today. "Back off on that one. She's mine."
"Oh...sorry, Prince, but she needs to die..." The Heir stated, "Latula already wants her consciousness, so...anyway, her time is going to run out soon."
"Good thing time's my thing."
Jade didn't stop running until she reached her home. Something was off, however. Normally when she reached her porch, Bec would have his face in the window, tail wagging happily. Instead of his barks, she heard a honking noise from inside the house. Gamzee did have a key to her house - maybe he was playing with Bec?
When she opened the door, an awful stench slapped her in the face. "Ugh..." She scrunched her nose, looking around and gasping. The carpet was soaked with crimson. That scathing metallic scent was blood. "Gamzee?" She called, pierced with fright, "Bec? Bec, come here, boy."
The honking grew louder as Jade withdrew her pistols - only to find that her holsters were empty. She took a deep breath, running her fingers over her grandfather's bullet to calm herself. She slowly made her way to her room, where the stains on the carpet grew bigger and bigger, and the honking grew louder and louder. She felt her pulse accelerate, grabbing a vase on the table. She had decorated it in an art class back in high school. Her hand on the door, she prepared to run right to where her gun cabinet was.
However, when she opened the door, the sight shocked her. Gamzee was on the rocking chair her Nanna had gifted to her, Bec in his lap. Her mouth dropped when she saw that the two of them were saturated in blood. Bec's blood. Her dog was dead. When Gamzee honked the clown horn in his hand, Jade realized what that purple string around her finger had meant.
She had forgotten to buy Faygo. Karkat had once told her that Gamzee was a nice guy until you take his Faygo away. Still, no one got away with hurting - killing her dog.
"Honk honk, motherfucker," Gamzee whispered, standing up as Bec fell off of him. The corpse made an awful blood splatter on the carpet.
"Gamzee, what did you do?!" She screamed, throwing the vase at him as she dashed towards her gun cabinet. As she opened the drawer, she felt something crash over her head. The vase. He must have caught it. She dropped to the floor, wincing as her skin was pierced by the shards of glass that fell to the floor. Her head throbbed, and quickly she swung her legs around to knock Gamzee to the floor.
Jade struggled to get up, dizzy and slow. Her vision tinted red, and quickly she wiped the blood from her eyes as she grabbed her rifle out of the drawer. When Karkat had told her that Gamzee was a little psycho, she thought he was being typical melodramatic Karkat. How could his best friend be someone like this? How could she get with someone like this?
No time for regret. As her fingers clumsily locked onto the handle of the rifle, Gamzee jerked on her leg, making her chin hit the drawer as she fell to the floor. Though Jade rarely missed, her fuzzy vision made her aiming vague. She aimed at the black blob before her and fired. She hit him, judging by the red now leaking onto that blob. Not enough to kill him. He lunged towards her, one hand on on the rifle and the other around her throat. His incessant mantra of 'Honk honk' swam around in her mind as he tried to wrestle the rifle out of her grip.
He got enough leverage on her that he slammed the butt of the rifle into her forehead, making her world to spin to black. It revolved around, back into color, before he hit her again. And again. On the third time she opened her eyes, she saw a man wearing green in the corner. He had sheer fairy-like wings on his back, and four horns on his head. Was that the Doom Air Dave had been talking about?
No way, Jade wasn't going to die because her friend had set her up with a psychotic clown-loving miracle-believing asshole. 'Karkat is the worst matchmaker ever,' She thought bitterly, turning her head back towards Gamzee, using the last of her strength to press her finger down on the trigger. He fell off of her, and her blurry vision made it impossible to tell where she fired.
Her breathing suddenly multiplied by a hundred decibels; every intake a gunshot to her ears. The fairy-like man approached her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Not like this. Definitely not like this.
"Dave..." She breathed, "...My wish..." Her eyelids felt so heavy, and even though the sound of voices filled her ears, she could not keep herself awake much longer. It felt good to just stay there and rest. Maybe it really was all a bad dream...
...When she woke up, she never felt better. Maybe it really was a dream. As she sat up, she adjusted her glasses and realized she was exactly where she fell. The gun drawer was open, there was blood on the carpet, and Gamzee was still dead. She'd shot him in the stomach, and then in the forehead. That meant Bec was dead, too.
The odd thing about the situation was that she wasn't injured. Detached from the whole scenario, she trudged over to where her mirror was. She remembered Gamzee choking her, yet there was no bruise on her neck. No bruises on her forehead or face from when Gamzee had hit her with the butt of the rifle. No blood leaking from her head from where he'd hit her with a wine bottle, though her hair was was still tousled. She hadn't been dreaming.
What did she do now? She killed her boyfriend, and she didn't even have the marks on herself to prove that it was in self-defense. Jade was upset, but she wasn't going to cry. She bit her lip and clenched her fists. Nope, she wasn't going to cry. She inhaled deeply, turning away from the mirror and heard a small crack. Lifting her foot, she saw a pair of shattered pointy shades that had been shattered even further by her step. Next to them, her grandfather's pistols.
"Dave?" She looked around for him, but he wasn't present. "Mr. Devil Cool Guy?" Nope. These were definitely his shades, and those pistols she had definitely left in his pocket dimension room. Jade had a strong intuition that he had saved her life. If he had survived from a gunshot to his heart, then he definitely had to have some sort of healing powers he may have imparted on her. Or at least, that's what she had to believe. There was only one way to find out.
She mournfully stuffed Bec, as was family tradition (and Bec was a part of her family). She knew the police would arrive soon, and she considered writing a letter to John, whom would inevitably find out about this. But, due to the time it took to preserve Bec in taxidermy, Jade decided against it. Maybe Hell had cell service? John would freak out when his sister just up and disappeared. He always was the protective older brother.
Arriving at the address from before with a shoddily wrapped present in hand, she walked in to find the same room as before. She let out a deep breath - she was afraid he may have switched locations, or something. However, Dave wasn't chilling on the sofa playing video games anymore. Instead, he was lying down, as if he was asleep, a katana next to him and a crow right by his head.
"You can speak bird?" She asked, approaching him before noticing that he was hurt. His eyes weren't even open. Blood had seeped into his shirt and the couch, it splattered his face and dyed his hair. She felt a knot of anxiety tie up in her throat as she shook him gently, "Dave...?" No response. The crow next to him cawed loudly, and she batted it away with her hand. "You're being very uncool, Dave..."
She realized that although his clothes were ripped, and that there was blood on him, he wasn't actually injured. But, to her shock, he wasn't breathing either. Jade started to panic. Did devils breathe? Did they have heartbeats? Was this even his blood? She pressed two fingers to his neck but did not find a pulse.
"Sorry..." When she heard the voice, goosebumps bubbled up on her skin. It wasn't Dave's voice. He was still...
Setting the gift to his side, she pulled out her pistols and turned around to face the Heir of Doom. He looked scratched up as well; his wings were tattered and his visor was cracked. "He wouldn't let me take your life or your consciousness - me and Latula kind of need it to survive, so...no hard feelings or anything, but -" Suddenly, his face flashed murderous anger, "I'm gonna kill you."
Jade blanched at his sudden burst of anger, feeling herself unable to move as the heterochromatic visor shattered, tendrils of blue and red coming out of his glowing eyes. She felt herself constricted by an invisible force, and then thrown, much like a baseball, into the back wall. She heard a crack as the right side of her rib cage snapped in half. Her side exploded in excruciating pain as she crumpled to the floor, bright crimson flowing from her mouth as she coughed.
There was no way she could fight a guy who could do things like that with his mind! No wonder Dave was still injured from what she presumed to be their earlier tussle. She tried to move, but an invisible anchor rested on top of her. Though the pressure was constricting, she was able to lift her hand just enough to shoot the guy. Though the bullet was mentally deflected to the side, that let the pressure be less binding. She could move - slowly, but surely.
"Dave..." She croaked, wincing and gripping her pistol so hard her knuckles turned white. He was her only hope. To prevent herself from crying out in pain, she bit her lip as she dragged herself over to the couch, where he was still asleep. She was pretty sure her teeth had chewed right through her lip, but the pain came from everywhere, so she couldn't tell.
"His time ran out, like a fucking nook!"
She grabbed onto the end of the couch and propped herself up, her forearm right next to Dave's head. She had to act quickly before she got thrown into the wall again. "Wake up..." She clutched the edge of the couch as crows flew in, attacking the green-clad man. Jade tried to breathe and think about what she could do. Wincing from the grating pain the intake of breath caused her, she remembered Dave saying something about wanting her soul, or time or whatever.
'Well, if his time ran out, then I'll just let him borrow some of mine!' She had no clue if her idea would work, but it was better to try than slap him around, which didn't work.
Jade wiped her mouth with her sleeve, and then leaned over him and planted her lips on his. A bizarre sort of sensation came over her - there was an odd feeling in her core. No, not the pain of her snapped rib bones. Not her internal bleeding either. It was an awful feeling, something that gave her anxiety but peace at the same time. It was the winter, dead and covered in white ashes. She didn't recognize this feeling, but for some reason she knew exactly what it was. Jade felt like she was dying.
She felt a warm hand upon her cheek, and realized just how cold she was. The black-haired girl felt him gently push her off of him, and she slumped back to the floor, clutching her rib cage as he rose. He glanced at her, seeing that she was curled up on the floor, not even looking at him. His hand gripped the hilt of his katana a little tighter. A crimson clock appeared over, freezing her in place - at least, for a little while.. It would stop her bleeding, since right now he had to concentrate on the Heir of Doom in front of him.
"Mituna," Dave's unshielded eyes narrowed, "Stop being a zit and go pop yourself. Wasn't her psycho boyfriend enough, or do you need two more little piggys? You're not gonna blow this house down. Besides, those feathery assholes were like the Navi to my Link and you just slaughtered them, like, hold up horror movie rated R shit in here. So yeah, I could do some Terminator shit right now."
"Shut the fuck up!" Mituna snapped, red and blue electricity crackling from his eyes. Via accelerating time, Dave flash stepped forward, avoiding eyebeams that burned two holes into his couch.
Dave slashed his katana forward, but felt Mituna mentally block the blade. Dave then kicked the back of the Heir's knees to make him fall to the floor, sticking his katana into the wall behind them and placing his foot right next to the hilt. This was one of his brother's katanas - there was no way this one was shitty and would break on him. With that fact, Dave used the katana as leverage to flip around and land on Mituna's back. Sure, he could have just stepped on the guy, but that wasn't what Strife was all about.
Pulling his katana out of the wall, it instantly got flung out of his hands and landed up to the ceiling. Before Dave could move, Mituna moved him. Or, more like, mentally threw him towards the ceiling. He slowed down time, however, so the impact didn't hurt as much. Time started its' normal pace, and Dave fell back to the ground, flipping around and aiming a kick at Mituna. The psychic grabbed his leg, which Dave predicted, and he reached forward to stab the guy. He was soon flattened by the Heir's psychic prowess, however. Mituna's boot dug itself into his chest.
"Um..." So, now the Heir was back to being demure again? "If I kill you this time, are you going to get back up?" The red and blue energy then converted to a shade of the night, and Dave gritted his teeth. Great, Doom magic. Being pinned down, there was nothing that Dave could do. His turntables would be so fucking convenient right about now...
Bang.
Mituna's raised hand, about to bring down justice to one surprised as hell Strider, dropped. Literally. Mituna's hand, detached from his arm, fell next to Dave's head with a fleshy plop. The flesh was sizzling as if it had been exposed to something acidic. "Damn, Harley, that was like some fucking Hawkeye if he had a gun instead of a bow action. Shit."
With the Heir's concentration broken, it was all too easy to break out of his paralysis. Struggling out from underneath Mituna, Dave handed the Heir's hand back to him and casually remarked, "I didn't even ask you to give me a hand on that one. You lost that one so bad you gained negative EXP. Shit, you leveled down. Spider witch A can pull some Frankenstein shit, so go back to her unless you want to be the handless horseman."
"Owowow..." Mituna hissed in pain, "Fine, I'll just go bother someone else..." He threw a glance at Jade before disappearing from the room.
Dave appeared right beside Jade, her hand - firmly wrapped around her pistol - still outstretched. "Take a chill pill, Jade, he's gone," He said softly, sliding his arm underneath her shoulders and lifting her so her head rested on his shoulder. He held his other hand over her as a clock appeared over her, the hands of time rewinding as the condition of her body was restored.
"You okay, Harley?" He asked, "You went through a fucking meat grinder like, twice already. Shit's not normal." Her head was resting on the nape of his neck, angled down so he couldn't quite see her full face. When he heard her giggling, however, he knew she was awake.
"I've met a coolkid devil, killed my psycho boyfriend, and kicked an Angel of Death's butt! That's not very normal at all," She glanced around the room to make sure that Mituna was really gone, and saw crow feathers and corpses scattered around the floor. "Your birds helped you, you know! Can you talk crow?"
"I speak feathery asshole," He clarified, "I guess you can call them my familiars. You know, the pets that help you beat shit up and do menial labor for you like deliver letters and shit. I was going to send them to you to check up on you, 'cause you were all Sleeping Beauty for awhile. But, you weren't sleeping. Good thing too, Harley, I was getting my ass whack-a-mole'd."
"It's a good thing you have me, Dave!" She chirped, and then moved out of his grip. Though she was no longer injured, she felt tired. She reached towards the gift that was still on the couch, and turned held out the box to him, "I got this for you."
When she made eye contact with him, Jade was instantly drawn to his unveiled eyes. They were an incredibly deep crimson, deeper than any red sunset she'd ever watched. He walked to her, and though he stared back to unnerve her, she didn't notice. Was she dense, or did his eyes creep her out that much?
He was the one to break their staring contest, "You're like Lady Luck, Harley. Not many mortals bust in here without them making a demonic deal before leaving - and sure as hell not many of them see my eyes."
"They're beautiful," She stated candidly, causing him to flush. "I mean...don't all demons have red eyes? That's kind of how they're always depicted. Black hair and red eyes!"
"No..." Though his expression was indifferent, Jade picked up sadness in his tone. "I'm the Lone Ranger over here."
"Well..." Jade thought for a moment, "Just because you're a devil and you have red eyes doesn't mean you're evil!" He tipped his head at her statement, and she smiled warmly at him. "You saved my life, and you didn't do any chopping to my timestream or whatever! Since you're a good person, and you saved my life...and to make you a 100% genuine coolkid, I got you this!" She giggled, and then added as an afterthought, "Even though I also saved yours."
Dave took the box from her, unwrapping it slowly and preserving the wrapping. Opening the box, he saw that there were a pair of aviators inside. He stared at them for a moment, before putting them on. "These are sick, Harley."
"You look waaaaay cooler than before! I mean, your shades from before were kind of hokey. But, you shouldn't hide behind them so often. Your eyes are really pretty!"
He took a deep breath and stepped back from her, "Thanks."
There was a moment of silence before Jade spoke up, "So...aren't you going to ask me what my wish is?"
Dave rose an eyebrow, "We're still doing that shit? Thought you'd be tired of all the Dracula shenanigans." Then, he shrugged a shoulder, "Whatever floats your yacht."
"No way! I mean, I always heard stories about my grandpa meeting all of these great and fantastical people, but I never really thought they were true! I kind of thought it was my Grandma pulling my leg - she really likes to do that," She walked over to where Mituna had been, and picked up the bullet that had severed his hand off. She delicately hooked it back through her chain, and placed it back on her neck. "I can't just go back to the normal world now, when I still have so many things left to discover!" And, of course, there was the fact that she would probably be arrested for homicide.
"Holy shit, are you asking for a field trip? We can grab a magic school bus and tour through hell. I'll even buy you some overpriced food items - human eye kabobs are trending right now." Dave was surprised that Jade knew he was joking, as she lightly slapped him on the arm with another laugh. Her laughter was really contagious - it took a considerable amount of willpower to keep from cracking a smile.
"Well, actually...I want to stay with you! That's my wish."
"..." His mouth was ajar, "What? Don't talk crazy, Harley." The bubbling acidic feeling of nerves hit his stomach hard, but he kept his expression steely.
"I'm not being crazy, Dave!" She pouted, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, "I mean it! We made a really good team. Wouldn't you rather me be your assistant than your crows? Besides, your crows can't shoot off a death angel's hand!"
The acidity of his nerves finally melted through his expression. Why was he so nervous? She was just a girl - granted, she was Jake English's granddaughter - but she was only human. It was ridiculous to think that he was so flustered by her. If she hung out with him, she would realize, eventually, that he wasn't as cool as she first thought he was. She would start finding the color of his eyes unappealing and frightening. Just like everyone else seemed to.
"Dave-"
"Harley," He breathed, trying to fight the reddening of his cheeks, "I'm not some time traveling British dude who needs girls at his side in order to fix the world or some shit. That shit's my antifreeze it's so anti." He then composed himself and added, "You don't even know if I could just sap away your existence when you're sleeping."
"I know you won't," Jade stated, "That's not a very coolkid thing to do! I'm not scared of you. Even if kissing you is fatal, I don't care!"
Oh, right. Why he'd come around in the first place. "Ding dong, you are wrong. I don't have to be a time leech."
"Oh really?" Jade put her hands on her hips, "Prove it." He grinded his teeth in contemplation, his face flushing even deeper. He wasn't as brave as the this girl was, but he still had a lot more pride than to back down now. Besides, it wasn't like he'd never kissed anyone before.
He drew the more petite girl into him, dipping his head down to meet hers as his hand snaked to the back of her head. Their lips locked, Jade flinching, half expecting that dead, empty feeling to hallow her out again. Dave didn't pull back, however, and as a new sensation filled her, she was glad he was unrelenting. It was spring. Hope, and flowers bursting into life, and people enjoying their time on Earth. It was nothing like the deserted wasteland his lips had been before. If lip contact made him take away her time, and add onto his own, then she bet he could do the reverse.
When she pulled away from him, it wasn't because she didn't want to. She needed to breathe. Needless to say, no one had ever made her feel like that. She stared into his shades, and though she was so close to him, she couldn't see into his eyes. One of her hands left the back of his neck to lift up his shades, his eyes bright and breathtaking - well, if her chest wasn't already fighting for more oxygen.
"Okay, coolkid, you got me," She breathed, letting his shades drop back on his nose as she pulled him into a tight hug. "You proved it!" She giggled, noting that his arms now hung limply at his sides. He was a devil, and she was sure that meant a lot of people - supernatural or not - hated him.
"J-Jade," He choked out, making her glance up at him, "S-Sorry..." He pushed her away from him, and when she looked at him, she realized that his shirt was burnt. His hand hovered the wound, weak and shaking, but nothing happened. "Damn, that's a Jake English bullet for you. Fuck, hope Aranea can reattach Mituna's hand. Else he'll go Captain Hook on my ass and I'll have to dye my hair that new shade 'Soulless Ginger' to be Peter Pan. And you know what, Harley? You can be my Wendy and get an annoying brother to cockblock us and we can sail Neverland forever. How's that sound?"
She ignored him to inspect his wound. "What happened?" She blinked, concern washing over her as she approached him. That burn hadn't been on him before, and it didn't appear he could heal it.
He sighed, "Basically, your grandfather is a fucking boss - like, level 99 and equipped with all the best weapons and eight million fucking health bars - and his bullets scare the shit out of every denizen that's ever met him. I can't edit undo this kind of mistake, nope, hit alt plus z one too many times and now that option has run dryer than James Dean's chevy to the levy."
Her nose scrunched, "Wasn't that Don McLean?" Then, she shook her head and tucked her bullet inside her shirt. Dave didn't appear to be too hurt, but she didn't want to burn him like that again. "Well, anyway, isn't that another reason for me to be your assistant? I might not be as great as my grandpa - not yet, anyway - but I've always wanted to live up to his legacy!"
Though her eyes shined at the prospect of having all sorts of adventures that her grandfather would be so proud of, her mind drifted to John. It would be okay to leave John where he was. He wasn't the type for adventure. Yes, he'd be sad that his twin was gone without a trace, but Jade just knew his comedy act would pick up, and he'd be famous. And one day, she would sit at one of his comedy shows with Dave, in the front row with dyed hair. And she would meet him, and he might recognize her, but it would be brief. It would be all okay, because John would always be okay with his quirky sense of humor.
"Yeah, fine," Dave relented, his shoulders drooping, "But if you're going to be my Wendy, you can't just...you can't fucking..." He seemed...nervous? He was biting his lip, which was strange. This was the first display of emotion she'd seen from Mr. Devil Dave, and she was worried. "You can't leave. You can't leave like Wendy did. I don't even want to meet your shittyass future daughter and do some gross ass spit shake with her, or whatever the hell. I'll be lenient as a piece of soggy cardboard and let you keep your time."
She tipped her head and smiled softly, "I'm not going to leave."
"Harley, I don't know if you know how demanding it is to live with a coolkid like me. You gotta listen to my sick jams, watch me shred some tricks on my consoles, not ruin my irony, and occasionally deliver letters now that those feathery assholes are gone. That's like two Titanics worth of pressure. Maybe scare off Fairy Tuna if he shows his sparkly face back up here - I think he's fucking scared of you. Hell, change your surname to English and everyone under the sea is going to be scared of you." Part of him was trying his hardest to dissuade her. The other part, however, thought that it would be nice if she stayed.
"I'm not going to leave you, Dave. Not now, not ever!" She chirped, and then added, "Maybe one day, I'll become a legend too. Then I'd be as cool as you!"
"Hold it, Harley, this amount of cool took years to perfect." He paused, and then said, "I'm going to get some apple juice. Let's sit down and have that movie marathon."
"Are we going to watch Con Air?" She asked excitedly, causing Dave to roll his eyes. She was too happy for him to let her down, though. It was like rejecting a puppy.
"Ugh...doing that will kill me."
She grinned mischievously, plopping down at the couch. "It's okay, because I know how to bring you back!" He rose an eyebrow, grabbing two boxes of apple juice and handing one to her. This whole situation was so damn ironic; he was hanging out with the descendant of one of the most badass motherfuckers of all time, and now they were watching Con Air. Jade dozed off about half an hour in; and the guy couldn't blame her. Nicholas Cage's performance was so dull he thought about sleeping.
But honestly? Dave thought that it couldn't have been more perfect.