Author's Note: PLEASE READ cause I'll only say it once.
These chapters have nothing to do with each other unless I say they do. The next chapter is not the continuation of this one. Sorry but these are going to be for the most part one-shots and drabbles.
One-Shot: Story ideas, plot bunnies that either won't work or are over done, written to get out of my mind, more than 100 words.
Drabbles: Plot bunnies or ideas that are either calling to nothing but the comic and interpretation or to the work of others. All references to ideas or situations written somewhere else will be credited at the beginning of the chapter, otherwise it doesn't call to it. And by that I mean that particular story wasn't in my mind when I wrote it. Always written in less than 100 words.
If a song title is the story title then that was the song that helped push the idea into actual words or sets the mood of the chapter.
I do not own JTHM or any of the characters purged from the vagina that is J.V.'s mind. Sorry.
Please enjoy the first chapter of this drabble/one-shot series.
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Chapter One
Wasteland
"I never took you for a drinker." He'd stumbled out of some bar on some street he couldn't recall the name of to come face to face with the last person he needed to see at that point. Edgar was sure Johnny wasn't supposed to be standing at such an odd angle.
"I'm not." He looked down at his hand and nearly toppled over. "At least," He grabbed the wall, scraping his knuckles on the brickwork. "not that I can ever remember being." When he glanced up again Nny was giving him an odd look. His stance was slightly defensive, hands curled into fists and shoulders hunched slightly. Not wanting him to think he was about to fly into a drunken rage Edgar slid down the wall to dissolve into an alcoholic pool at the foot of some bar on some street he couldn't really . . .
"You look like shit when you drink."
"You've never seen me drink before."
"I'm seeing you now." He laughed and Nny just stared.
"I feel like shit too, guess that's why I can never remember drinking so much."
He sat there for a long time just staring at the building across the street. He knew Johnny was still there, even if he shouldn't have been. He should have walked off by now, should have . . .
Johnny should have done a lot of things.
"What are you doing in this part of town so late at night?" A stupid question because the other man went to a lot of places in the darker hours to do things that drove Edgar to drink until he couldn't walk straight. He'd never admit to Johnny that this wasn't his first time getting shitfaced since he'd been let go.
"I was going to meet someone."
"Who?" But before the other answered Edgar got stepped on, not by Johnny but by a two guys on their way into the bar. They laughed when he clutched at his leg. "Shit! Watch where you're going."
"Maybe you shouldn't sit in the middle of the sidewalk." A hand grabbing him by the shoulder, by his shirt and the fingers brushing him through the fabric . . .
He shook his head as Johnny pulled him up and started dragging him down the street. They walked for awhile, Edgar stumbling from time to time and his friend only barely keeping him from face-planting to the ground.
"So, who're you meeting?" He slurred in an attempt to start conversation. He got no actual answer.
They stopped in front of a small all-night diner. Inside at least ten night owls ambled about, talking and laughing with each other. It took him a few minutes to realize that Johnny had gone in. He walked over to a table occupied by a girl with what looked to be purple hair. They talked for so long that Edgar thought maybe he should try to find his way home when Nny gestured towards him and the girl looked over. Feeling weird for staring Edgar turned and started walking down the street, away from the window.
As if on cue he heard the jingle of the café door and the click of Nny's shoes on the pavement.
"You're going to walk head first into traffic, dumb ass."
"I didn't mean to interrupt your date. I'm not that far from here anyways, I can make it home alright." But that hand was on him again, its grip rigid and tight.
"You're a bullshit liar."
Nny had parked by the bar on the street Edgar couldn't recall the name of. It really wasn't that far away but the journey took twice as long as it should have with him stumbling around. Getting into the car with someone he knew was a deranged killer was not one of the smartest things he could have done but Edgar figured that walking down the street away from Johnny wouldn't have done him any better.
They were driving, Edgar giving quick directions from the passenger seat and Nny handling the old car with practiced ease.
"I'm sorry." He dazed from where he was slouched. "Who was she?" They were halfway there.
"I met her at the bookstore on East Fifth. She asked me out yesterday." Edgar nodded.
"She looked nice."
"She is."
"You going back?"
"No." He pulled into the parking lot, "It was a bad idea anyways. Where from here?"
"Turn right, it's building 17. Why was it bad?" He didn't answer, only parked in front of the tall apartment complex and shut off the engine.
Edgar had a feeling that trying to get out of the car right away was a bad idea.
"Nny?"
"Hmm?" He was lost in thought, staring through the windshield at the unkempt bushes that ran along the path towards the stairs.
"Thank you for the ride." Johnny looked up and over at him.
He supposed that it shouldn't have been so shocking. It wasn't too long ago that he'd been spared in a split decision that miraculously turned in his favor. The other man had his sporadic moments.
If by sporadic he meant crazy.
Two seconds passed of the silent and halfway drunken staring contest, maybe more he couldn't be too sure, when the engine roared to life. Johnny peeled out of the parking lot and onto the street. Had Edgar not still been in the car he'd have been worried for his friend's safety, especially when he nearly slammed into another driver. Had Edgar not been so wasted he might have also screamed. Instead everything lurched and he wondered if he would ever make it home okay.
The ride to wherever they were going was long and hellish to say the least.
"What the FUCK are you thanking me for?" The car swerved and Edgar scrambled to buckle the seat belt.
"Slow down!" And Johnny slammed on the brakes for three of the longest seconds of his life. Through the back window he could see a car about to barrel into them from behind. "Nny!"
The momentum kept them moving and he turned sharply down a street that wasn't so busy. The car still grazed the back bumper, its horn blaring but Edgar barely heard it through the blood pounding in his ears. He wasn't sure of what exactly happened after that, he only knew that they eventually pulled to a slow stop in front of Johnny's house. The other man's knuckles were pale, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.
He didn't look at Edgar, didn't pay him any mind as he jerked the car door open and stepped out, not seeing his friend flinch when he slammed it shut again. Edgar could feel his asthma start to act up but after a few deep breathes he calmed down enough to think back. He tried to figure out exactly what had set Johnny off.
"What the FUCK-?"
The dashboard was dirty and worn but not disgusting, the leather seat underneath him torn in a few places but not uncomfortable. Unable to focus on what he might have done to piss Nny off he looked up towards the house to see the lights were on and the front door was slightly ajar.
He wants me to come inside?
Edgar hadn't been in his friend's home since the initial meeting. The thought of going back to that place scared the shit out of his inebriated mind.
Holy shit fuck I think I'm gonna die . . .
Staying outside or just going home wouldn't do any better for his health either. Johnny knew where he lived now.
Slowly he reached for the door handle. Still silently debating it he didn't notice Nny's silhouette pass the door long enough to see him nearly drop to the ground as he got out of the car.
It was really cold outside, more than he remembered it being earlier. He almost wished he'd brought a jacket with him. When he finally gathered the courage to walk up the door he noticed that the air coming from inside the house wasn't much warmer.
"Nny?" He shivered as he stepped inside. Johnny was sitting on the far left side of his couch staring through his hands and knees at the floor. Edgar wrapped his arms around himself. "How can you stand the cold?" Johnny opened his mouth to say something but stopped. He turned to look at the corner of the room farthest from the door. There, propped against the wall were a couple of strange, short figures.
"It's none of your God damn business why he's here so FUCK you!" He threw something heavy at the pig like Styrofoam dolls and whatever it was hit the wall above them, scraping the paint but falling harmlessly to lie nearby. "What the hell do you fuckers know about this shit anyways? And you!" He spun around to point a finger at Edgar, "Why the hell were you there at all?"
A little indignant at Johnny's attitude over the matter, his initial reaction would have been something like, 'None of YOUR damn business!' but his instinct to survive this horrible encounter kicked him in the ass and told him to choose his words carefully.
So he opted to say something intelligent but all his intoxicated brain could come up with was "Huh? Me?"
"Close the fucking door, Edgar."
"Oh." Weird, but then he guessed that the night had already been very strange.
"Why were you drinking?"
"Why does it matter?" He'd been drunk when Johnny had first found him leaving a neighbor's wedding. He hadn't had so much since he'd gotten rid of that one roommate in college who always had to have that last glass of whatever he'd concocted in the bathroom sink. That was probably his worse experience with alcohol. Never drink with a guy who can't clean anything and cooks his own stash.
"Answer the fucking question or walk your ass home."
"Are you implying that if I tell you you'll drive me? Because after that last performance I think it's a pretty crappy attempt at trying to get me to talk. I'd rather walk home, thank you." Edgar didn't even finish processing the last words he spoke before he was slammed into the door. He hit the floor for the second time that night and this time when he looked up at Johnny he felt a sense of clarity that haunted him like a horrible ghost. As drunk as he remembered being he was completely sober when he woke up in that machine. "Why are you so angry?" Heavy breathing, eyes dilated and watching him with that look again. Edgar had a feeling that he just didn't understand when Johnny really wanted him to. And then suddenly he was being looked through.
"I don't know." And the familiarity perplexed and amused him. A tiny smile at the corner of his mouth and Edgar's sarcasm was turned into the entertainment he'd meant it to be. Road blocks were lifted in the drunken man's system and he allowed himself to be out of it again. Looking down he noticed a short blade loosely grasped in Johnny's right hand. Nothing was in his left hand but it seemed to come down from a position to grab at him. He wondered at it.
"Are you right-handed?" His friend didn't answer for a moment and Edgar didn't look up to see what was wrong.
"Yes." Most of the population, he rationalized as he reached for him, is right-handed. The other hand was scarred, marked by the nails and teeth of his victims in their last moments. As his right hand brought them down his left had held them still. How many people had ripped into his skin?
Nny was a marked man.
Tiny faded and tired crescents and scratches dotted his skinny wrist. There was one big scar from his forearm to his knuckle and as he traced it with his finger, so lost was he in his own thoughts of its origin Edgar didn't notice the looming danger.
Johnny was hardly aware of it when his drunken house guest had initially reached for him. When he felt and saw him grasp him by the wrist and touch the mark he'd gotten from the guy with a switchblade in his pocket, he'd been surprised that Edgar would have the fucking nerve to touch him at all.
"Where did this come from?" He wrote it off as alcoholic stupidity.
"A hitchhiker outside of town. I gave him a ride and he tried to rob me."
"Wow, you gave someone a ride," he grinned stupidly, "and they tried to kill you." The skin of his forehead and his hair was pressing against Johnny's hand, his eyes were closed, and he was smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Nny imagined bringing the knife down and pushing it into the other's back, watching that smile drop like a stone and those eyes spring open with the fear he almost longed to see but before he could actually do anything Edgar looked up at him.
"I don't know why that's so funny to me. I guess that's another reason I dislike drinking so much. Makes me act like an idiot." He looked over at the knife Nny had raised slightly, "I think it helps me pretend that there's nothing wrong with me for the way I am now. I think you did something to me."
Nny's grip on the knife tightened.
"Sometimes I think . . . that maybe you should have pulled the switch, Nny." He closed his eyes again, "I really do." He felt the other move and his fingers refused to let go of the skinny forearm they had a hold of, "My life wouldn't be so God damn complicated if you weren't around in the first place."
"I think if you want to walk out of here with all of your major organs you'd better let go."
"I wonder if any of the people you've let go of manage to forget you."
"Of course they have."
"Do you know where I can find them? I'd like to take notes."
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INFORMATION!
Challenge; Drunk!Edgar
Word count: 2368
Song: Wasteland by 10 Years
Long and drawn out way to say "I can't stop thinking of you."
What happens next? Does Edgar die? Do they kiss? Does Zim bust through the window and abduct them for horribly stupid experiments? Who knows because this is probably a one-shot!
Next installment: Iris, a drabble: 100 words