A/N: For Dare and Nikki-You shall love this.

I do not own The Boondocks. I also do not own The Church's "Under the Milky Way". I own nothing. I am only a fanfiction writer. Don't try to sue, you will not be getting anything. So please, enjoy.

Warnings: Fluff. Errors. mild-Ocness. (Tell me folks!!)

One more thing: Thank you Maria33-your help is appreciated!!

Under the Milky Way…

This is where he would find her. This is the place where she will be. It did not occur to him how he knew she would be there, and it certainly did not occur to him on how long it would take him to get there either. All he knew was that he had to be there, and using the little money he had he would arrive at his destination.

Under the Milky Way tonight…

Her body temperature was lowering; blood vessels were beginning to constrict. Her shivering had yet to cease, her knees buckled together as her feet swam deeper in the smooth sand. Her earthly lullaby became the sound of the waves ferociously crashing into one another in a melody only she could catch; the bitter wind snipped at her nose, causing her body to convulse threateningly, but she ignored it.

Under the Milky Way tonight…

He should not care. Her troubles, her misery, it should not concern him. Still, he found himself tripping over himself as he exited the bus, hurriedly scanning the area for any sign of her. The night air was so intense, so bitter that his eyes could catch the small fog of air formed by his heavy breathing.

Wish I knew what you were looking for…

Most definitely he would find her. It could not be too hard. Examining the city, a city that had long ago been deserted, he felt a thickness inside of him. The city, this city, was cold-empty. No life surrounded or lived within the streets; the houses were barren, tattered beyond disbelief. He could have-no, he would have stared in awe but he had no time. No time to wait, no time to stare, no time for anything.

Wish I knew…

Keep your head.

Do not panic.

A large lump formed in his throat; he wanted so badly not to panic. The site before him, he could not find her, he could not feel her. He knows where she is. He can envision the setting: the ocean, the sand, the seagulls, the night sky. He knows this! Why can't he find her!?

Do not panic.

Think. Think Think.

Panicking will not bring her back, and panicking will not bring you to her.

Trust yourself, you can do this.

If he did not bring her back, and this is a big "if", no one would forgive him. If he does not bring her back, he would not be able to forgive himself.

Lower the curtain down…

She is not dumb. She is a ditz. She is naïve. She is not slow. She is irrational.

The sand feels so good underneath her. She thinks she is a snake, floating through the grains of sand like it is air. Her curves move in rhythm to the waves of the ocean; left to right, right to left. She finds euphoria in this; a trance nature has put her on, a spell she is bound to.

The air is freezing tonight.

A drunken smile finds its way onto her face, half covered in sand and the other waiting to be covered, and she stares lazily at her frozen breath. She does it again, but curling her mouth into the perfect shape of an "o" she breathes out. She laughs-a laugh that sounds between a gurgle and a giggle. She does it again. Then again. And again.

Raising her hand, she tries to grasp the evading air. It fades away before she can take hold of it, slipping right through her fingers. She feels her eyes watering; a strong sense of pouring her tears out comes quickly to her. She does not understand why she feels this way.

To cry…to want…to grasp…

Her hand falls to the ground. Her snake slithering ceases. Nature goes on. The waves continue to crash into one another, the birds continue to fly ahead, and she continues…she continues to be.

I think about the loveless fascination…

Everyone is looking for her. A combination of friends, family, and others she cannot identify off hand are searching for her. She should go home, she knows this. Her body remains where it is, lying on the beach. Sand is getting into her curls, onto her skin, but she finds this nourishing. The texture makes her feel good and bad at the same time.

She grasps it. It falls through her hands. She grasps it again. It falls through her hands again.

She continues to be.

An understanding of this loneliness, this preferred loneliness, gets to her. She knows what he feels like when he is alone; she understands how content he feels to be in his world. There is no disturbance, no interference, only she lives-only she breathes!

This is why she came here.

It is empty. It is quiet. It is non-living.

Yet, there is life.

Nature breathes!

Loveless fascination…

All it is, all it was-loveless fascination. Oh, how she admired him! Sitting underneath the hilltop, she would watch him do things. He did not do things, not like she would expect him to. He did little things most of the time.

Majority time spent with him he would read.

Then he would stare off into the distance where the city was.

Most of the time, all the time, he was talking.

Talk. Talk. Talk. Revolution. Change. Violence.

He talked too much. They all talked too much. Words swirling around her, some of them she did not understand fully. That was when she was younger. When she was younger he was just using big words she did not get. Words she could not grasp. He was "snooty". He was a "show off". He was mean. He was violent. He was mysterious.

He was right.

She could hear him… "The world is a cruel place Jazmine. Some day everyone you know is going to die. You're not fit for this world; you're too soft, too kind."

No, she did not want to hear him. She needed his voice to get out; she had to push him out, somehow. He was ruining her moment, her nature, he was ruining it.

"You can't hide Jazmine."

Pain rushing from the soles of her feet to the temples of her head, she began to curl into a tiny ball, fetal position. She could try to hide. She could try to block out. She could try. It did not hurt to try.

Sometimes when this place get kind of empty…

She likes it empty. She likes the way it feels. To be alone in your world, in your fantasy, it felt good. If only for a little while, just a little while-let her be.

Sound of their breath fades with the light…

The vibrations in his pocket gave him a jolt. Cursing heavily under his breath, he dug wildly inside his thick jacket pockets, searching for the cause of the vibrations. In his hand he held his recently bought blackberry. It continued to vibrate in his hand crazily. The lack of light had taken much from him, but in return the moon provided for his loss. A soft tune began to play on the phone; he had received a text message.

He did not have to look at it.

Inside the brief message, there was a blunt and simple message. Four words that made him want to grip the inanimate object and slam it onto the rough, cracked concrete beneath the soles of his feet. Was there really a need to answer, to reply? Cussing his older brother out would have sound really good right then and there, but cussing out his normally "intelligent" brother would not help his situation right now. He did not need to make his brother feel worse than he was already feeling, even though it was in his nature.

His nature, what was it now?

As far as he knew, this was not his nature. It was not expected of him to act like this, and even he did not expect this from himself. But there he was. Standing in the dark, a flickering light overhead, and his body shivering from the cold-he was doing it. He would rather be in the warmth of his home drinking some gin, eating some chips, and watching some BET before heading out to his ol' boys' house for a party or two. No, he was not hanging out with his boys and he was not chilling at his crib; he was outside in the southern part of Illinois, the abandoned part, searching for a young woman who did not know how to keep her head straight.

"Fu…" Cussing would have done him some good. It would have released some of the stiff tensions that were racked inside his muscles; it would have given him enough energy to keep searching, because Lord knew his body was aching at this point. The strong word barely reached his lips before it slipped away from his hold into the freezing night air. His light brown orbs turn towards the beach, despite the cold air he could feel his body heating up.

Have...

You…

Have you found her Riley?

Stupid brother. Stupid folks. Stupid girl.

"No nigga I ain't found her yet! Shit, yo' ass should be searching for the trick's nutty ass-not me!"

His lips did not open; they didn't even part. He stood in the silence of the night, his body tense and his mind alert. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew it was true. Tentatively, he raised one foot and then the other, his legs moving in a repetitive process he had since learned long ago. As he drew closer, his body moving more in rhythm, his body temperature rising as well-he could feel it. This noise-that sound, it grew louder, louder, and louder but at the same time it remained undeniably soft. It was combining with the waves, this soft noise, that soft sound creating soothing tempo music at a graceful pace. It didn't matter to him because the noise, the sound wasn't something he wanted to hear. No doubt it was a lovely sound-that stupid noise, and it was something he was vaguely familiar with (more than he would like to admit), but as he ran across the sand, not caring for the safety of his Air Forces in the process, only one thought ran through his head…

Of how much he did not want to hear this noise-that sound ever again.

Wish I knew what you were looking for…

That sound-this noise often came to him while he slept.

Drifting off into his world, his other world, he would hear it just as he heard it now. Mumbled, soft, captured inside a tiny box hidden from the world, that noise-it bothered him so.

He could never understand why he was bothered by it. He couldn't guess why he cared. He did care, and he shouldn't care, but he did care. What made it worse? More than his confused state, more than his care for this sound-that noise, he had a burning desire (more than any woman or drug or weapon) for that noise-this sound to stop.

So he ran. And he ran. And he ran.

Might have known what you would find…

He was tired of feeling this way.

And it's something quite peculiar…

Too numb to shout, too numb to cuss, too numb to move in general. The night air became a relief to her stinging red rimmed eyes that were growing puffy with each passing second. Her body was in shambles, her clothes included. Sand decorated her tightly curled locks, sticking inside the ball of hair like glue. The small particles had also reached beneath her nails, once manicured and a spectacular view, now half-formed and chipped pieces of what should have been. Knees up to her chin, arms folded tightly around her legs, she sat comfortably on the sand watching the site before her. So pretty. So lovely. So harmonic. So…Crunch.

If someone was trying to sneak up on her, they were not doing a very good job at it.

This person, this guy, whoever he was was not trying to be discreet. Her hearing had picked up on him the time he started rushing down the side of the beach, not too far from the tattered boardwalk either. He sounded to be clumsy in the sand, but he held a refined elegance to his steps because he did not stumble nor did he fall while running across the thick layers of sand.

Her shoulders sagged…he could be so disappointing some times. One moment he could make her feel so-vibrant with his words. Then, he would easily deflate her as he risen her.

She didn't have the heart to turn around. But his breathing was so hard; it was beginning to irk her already disturbed nerves. Against her better judgment, looked like she had little of that left, she glanced over-to see.

"What the fuck you think you're doing!?"

Moonlight was not needed. The voice, the anger, and another companion that she could not figure were there. The voice and the anger were familiar, and she instantly knew who it was. Moonlight was not needed, and in retrospect she really didn't want it, but it was good to verify her theory.

Her lips moved, almost forming the beginning to the letter R and then swiftly moving to the letter H. She quickly went silent, turning her head away from the young man with indifference she didn't know she contained. Hope was drained. Nothing was left.

He could be so disappointing sometimes.

Her movements, he caught them, and he knew what it meant.

"Oh, I'm sorry I ain't my brotha'!"

She flinched but didn't say anything.

It only made him angrier. He could break something right now. All this time-all this shit; there she remained, curled up waiting.

"What ya waitin' fo! He ain't coming and you know that!" He didn't approach her. Only a few feet away from her, he watched her shivering body convulse. He knew he should stop, but after everything that happened-she needed to hear this.

"You know after this, he ain't coming back. And you know once he gone he'll be set on doing some crazy shit like savin' society from Mr. Big and Mr. White. And you wanna know something else, you really wanna know something cuz I'm his brotha, I know this, he can't have you around while he do it!"

He was angry, angrier than he had been in his life. Angry with her. Angry with his brother. Angry with himself. Angry with so many other factors in the equation he couldn't get himself straight, but she had to know this. She had to hear it. If his brother wasn't going to do it, and he knew damn well he wasn't, then he was going to be the responsible one this time and just do it.

"Hell, he don't even know this yo' spot." He grumbled, his hand taking in the heat of his heavy coat's jacket. What more could he say, do? He was going to be honest to her. She deserved that much, he guessed.

All what he was saying, to her dismay, was true. Wasn't it the reason why she was here in the first place? He couldn't take anymore, he couldn't handle it anymore, he couldn't handle her anymore. It was not surprising that he did not arrive.

I got no time for private consultation…

She knew this. She knew it all. He was right and she was wrong. She told herself this numerous times in the past; over and over she would go over this in her head. If the time came, when the time came, she would be able to care for herself-she would be able to compose herself-he does all the time. He never understood, he never understood how hard it was for her to do this, to be this-for him. Water spilled down her cheeks, rolling in small balls, traveling from the corners of her eyes the bone of her jaw line to tipping over on her hands. Her body racked with grief, convulsing harder than before; no cold, no wind could make her feel this numb-this sick. It was true, everything was true, and she understood it.

So then, why did the tears continue to fall? Why did she continue to cry after promising herself she would not?

Why?

This was what he hated. That noise-this sound, he hated this. He had awoken to it many times before in his sleep. Shaking, soft, and he could hear it all. He really shouldn't care; it was none of his business after all. Yet, when times like these arrived, he would find himself moving from his bed in the deepest hours of the night (the hours when he actually slept after hard partying) heading towards her bedroom. Rolling, moaning, sobbing in her sleep, and he would be there watching her.

He didn't touch her.

He didn't wake her.

Body movements coming from her were erratic, her sobs were noisy but delicate, and although he quickly found himself aroused by the sounds, he easily realized he was annoyed by the noise as well. He would remain by her bed, sitting, waiting for her to go silent. Once she did, once her body stopped movement and true slumber captured her, he would leave in silence-not breathing a word of it to anybody.

This time it had to…he knew it had to…he couldn't continue…it had to change.

Not looking up, she couldn't bear looking up, she didn't see him approach her but she could hear. She didn't care, not anymore. Too much of this. Too much of that. Letting all go, these tears; maybe if she let it go, she could get everything straight. She could get her mind straight. If only she had raised her head up, if only she had looked him into his eyes, if only she had-

Something shimmering and white…

This jacket she found herself wrapped and incredibly snug in was jet black. Over size and puffy, it was made of the perfect fabric to trap and conserve heat. At first it did not register in her head that he was responsible for this; she blinked her blood shot eyes, puzzled at the appearance of the material but not complaining. It felt good, she felt warm, and she knew she was going to lose a limb or two because of not wearing one earlier. Still, it did not click in her brain that he was responsible until he lowered himself to her level. There was no eye contact, at least not yet; he was working swiftly, grabbing her shoes and socks. Raising one average size foot, she staring in awe, he easily slipped the sock and shoe on. Then he went on to complete the same task on the other foot.

"Shit, I don't know why the hell they chose me to be yo damn bodyguard. I knows I'm one of the fiercest niggas out in 'dis parts but I gots a life too ya know." His jacket was the perfect size for her; he made sure she was snug inside before hastily zipping her inside it, with his glare and deep frown ever present. "Home Depot would be nothing wit out me, gots that-nothin."

If she asked what he was going to wear now-he would get angrier with her.

Stating the obvious much. Good thing he was wearing a heavy sweater.

"H-how did you find me." She was surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded. It did not deter her; she looked at the younger man quizzically.

The look he responded with told her that it was not as easy as it appeared but he simply shrugged it off as something not important.

"I want to know."

Still kneeling, he watched with a glazed expression at how easily this girl, this young woman had regained her strength. "You really wanna know?"

"Yes."

In a final and firm tone, "I didn't."

Oh. So…

"Ya always bitchin' 'bout how much ya wanna go the beach." Then he rolled his eyes at her naivety, "When it's below 30 degrees-I don't know why girlz like you do stupid things."

"But, but, but," she was confused now, "how did you know? I didn't tell anyone."

"Like I said," he tapped his finger to her forehead, "I didn't. I just picked this one on map quest cuz this one is the closest and you have been…," she did not catch his flustered appearance at this (thank God she didn't), "look, I ain't got time for this! I'm freezing my balls off fo' yo loony ass!" "Plus, I gotta call all those bitches who lookin' for ya."

'He could be so disappointing some times…'

She could tell that he wasn't lying. Without his jacket he was a guy waiting to be turned into a popsicle, and she knew it was selfish of her to ask this, but she would not get another chance. Not a chance like this, not when she was in tune with everything else.

"Please, let me stay-just for a few minutes." She winced at the look he gave her, "I just want to, please, I need this, only for a few minutes."

No, no, hell no. He did not want to stand out there with his balls freezing in the cold air. He wanted to go back to his crib, crawl into the warmth of his bed, and go to sleep. Even so, all these wants, these "must haves" began to crawl back into the depths of his mind. Her emerald green eyes, puffy from the tears, looked up at him with a pleading but grateful expression. Then he found himself returning to those nights where he would hear that noise-this sound over and over again.

He didn't want to hear it anymore.

"Crazy mulatto girl doing all this stupid shit. You got four minutes-five tops if the bus comes back late-nigga always gotta be a bitch 'bout these things."

The sand was messing up his good pants, his favorite pair of pants, but he would find a way to get it out. Sitting beside her, he stared off into the abyss. He didn't get it, he couldn't comprehend, his reasons for doing all of this were unfounded. …He did know one thing; he had to make sure he didn't hear that noise.

"Huey's wrong you know."

His words came so quickly and so quiet she had to turn her gaze from nature and look at him. Thankfully, the full moon overhead, plus the flickering street lights, had aided her into searching for any signs of foul play. She didn't find any.

"What the-what do you-"

"He said, and I quote "People like you should not live in this world, too dangerous, too weak". And what I'm saying is that he's wrong cuz we need folks like you in this joint." As if shrugging would get the cold off his body, he shook his body, hoping all these feelings he were feeling would go away if he just spoke them.

'This person…he could be so disappointing at times.'

A faint smile crossed her lips. The first in many, many months, "Why do you say that?"

He turned to her, giving her "Girl, you some kinds of stupid" look. She should have been offended by that, but she only waited for him to continue. When he did, he must have caught whiff of her curiosity, he turned away from her and stared off into the sea.

"If they ain't got no good people in dun world. Then what's the point of trying to save it? We might as well cap ourselves and save the government and revolutionists the trouble." He shook his head half-heartedly, "Really, I think my brother can be a fucking fool some times."

'And yet, there is always some one directly behind him who picks up the slack.'

Leads you here despite your destination…

She didn't know what brought her here or why she even chose this particular beach. There were many beaches in this area, and she was sure it was less dangerous to tread over those, but she did find a temporary calming place once arriving. Sitting beside this boy, this young man she could not help but feel an overwhelming feeling of release. Oh, her body was still numb beyond her knowledge and she knew he was going along for the ride, but she had never felt such a…release. Such an unexplainable sensation it was.

Tentatively but assuredly she moved her hand closer to his, only touching the tip of his finger with her own. She did not expect him to look up or look back at her, and he did not. Smiling softly, she moved her direction overhead, her eyes glittering in line with the stars.

'Thank you'

This was not how he planned to spend his weekend. This was not how he planned to spend his weekend off from work, but he had to admit this wasn't a complete waste of his time. Although, he would have preferred not having to worrying about some girl going AWOL on him and sitting out in a deserted city in the freezing cold staring at the Milky Way.

But, he had to admit, it was nice knowing he wasn't hearing that noise-this sound any longer.

Sighing, he guessed it was the bright side to all of this. She could have her moment, her time. He could wait. As long as they could find peace in their sleep, he'll do this for her. All that he can he really do.

Under the Milky Way tonight…

A/N: She's baaaaack! Well for now. I do have another Boondocks fic in the works, but I am not sure I should post it. Ah well, what the hell, its 2010! Then its Black History month! I had to do this. MTP~ was born here (Boondocks fandom), so she might as well make a little cameo here, no?

Moving on. This song belongs to The Church "Under the Milky Way". I've been listening to Sia's cover the whole time while writing this. I own nothing.

I think I've made it clear that I am a fan of the shipping Jazmine and Riley. I don't think there's much of that in this story, implied here and there, but not explicit. I'm also a fan of Jaz/Huey too, but I don't know-Jaz and Riley, crack, but I love crack. If it counts for anything, my latest work in progress is Jaz/Huey. Well, its more family oriented with snippets of Jaz/Huey. I've wanted to try an idea like this for some time: Jazmine, for your benefit, has suffered a nervous breakdown. Yep, during this time a lot of stuff has gone down. Really, it's an AU independent fic. I am trying to get back into the fanfiction world, but jeez…it is hard!

I tried keeping Riley in character but giving him a good side at the same time. You know, after all he still is Riley, but for Jazmine's sake-yeah. You guys be the judge of that. I accept any type of criticism and opinions; flames shall be laughed and mocked at.

Thanks to all those who decided to read, review, or do anything else of the sort.

Have a blessed day!