Holy crap.
Jonathan was depressed. Admittedly not super depressed, and not diagnosed, but it now made a lot more sense why Mephistophilis had assigned Sock to him in the first place. He undoubtedly needed a good shove to actually kill himself, but according to this, Socks job was less difficult than he had anticipated. Sock, however, still had his work cut out for him. Jonathan, apparently, was of the school of thought that he would die anyway, why would he inconvenience himself and his father by speeding it up? He had also written that he could handle that bleak, what's-the-point feeling, it was being mad that screwed him up.
Sock was conflicted by this. Firstly, he was doing his job, at least a little; so that was good! But Jonathan was depressed? He liked Jonathan, he didn't want him to….well, actually did. But he shouldn't want him to die, right? What really had Sock weirded out was that there were a few mentions of his dad, but why did he never mention his mom?
Well, he would just keep driving Jonathan to suicide, he guessed. He had to.
Jonathan had a very happy, Sock-free morning. Math was still math, however and P.E. was still P.E., and the freaking human race was still the human race; and he was bored to tears by the end of the morning. Figurative tears, mind, but since he hadn't been listening to his iPod/Sock all morning, he'd actually listened to other people talk (having no one to talk to himself) and discovered he now had a rep as the crazy kid. Well, he'd tried to be subtle talking to Sock. There that went. And so, as he sat there eating his sandwich at lunch, he didn't mind all that much when Sock materialized. "Hi Jon~!" Sock exclaimed happily.
"You're back." observed Jonathan astutely. "Yep! Did ya miss me?" Sock asked.
"No." answered Jonathan mostly truthfully. "Ouch." said Sock vaguely before sitting down beside Jonathan and watching him eat.
"I fricking hate science." Jonathan muttered under his breath.
"Well I like it." Sock replied, floating cross-legged above the desk next to him. They were doing preparation for dissections, and Jonathan wasn't particularly fussy on it. "Y'know what it reminds me of?" Sock asked in a low voice, leaning closer even though no one could see or hear him. When Jonathan didn't respond, he continued anyway. "This~" he sang, pulling up his sweater vest and t-shirt to reveal a completely gruesome stab-wound. Jonathan's eyebrows shot up. "What the fu-" everyone in the class's head turned and he blushed and looked down at his desk. "Damn it Sock," he murmured. Sock smiled ear to ear. "Please put your shirt back on." Said Jonathan.
Sock wiggled his eyebrows "Is it distracting you?" he asked seductively. "I may puke, so yes." Jonathan muttered. "You're actively bleeding, by the way." he continued. Sock looked down at his stab-wound. "Cool!" he exclaimed.
"Shhh, I can't hear." Jon muttered, ignoring the stare he was getting from the kid next to him.
"I hate life, Sock. Cheer me up." Said Jonathan one Saturday morning.
It was around eleven o'clock, and he was sitting on his bed eating dry Alpha-Bits.
"I think you're mistaken about what my job is, Jonathan." Sock replied.
Jonathan threw his Alpha-Bits across the room, and they scattered on his floor. "I fucking hate Alpha-Bits," he muttered.
"Yesterday you said it was okay dry." observed Sock.
"I hate dry cereal." said Jonathan "And today is your day off. You don't have to tell me to kill myself all day, or be here at all, actually." he concluded. Sock sniffed "Are you telling me to go to Hell?" he asked with false sadness. Mephistopheles and his clever situational puns were clearly rubbing off.
"Yeah." said Jonathan lacklusterly.
"Y'know what? Fine. Today we'll just hang out like normal people!" declared Sock.
"Not possible, and I was hoping you'd leave." replied Jonathan, staring wistfully at the cereal on the floor. "C'mon buddy, what do you do with your friends?" Jonathan snickered. "You've been following me around for like three weeks. Have you not noticed I have none?"
"I'm your friend!" Sock announced. "Kill yourself." replied Jonathan. "Been there, done that." Sock told him. "Let's do something fun today." "Okay- what?" Jonathan asked.
Sock thought for a moment. "Strip chess." he suggested. Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I can't play chess, you freak. Or poker."
"Ugh, fiiiiiiiine. We could get coffee."
"That's boring. And overpriced. And I hate coffee." Jonathan speculated.
"Wet blanket." Sock told him. Jonathan nodded.
"Let's just go for a walk and think of something then," Sock said.
"'Kay. Go away, I need to get dressed."
Sock didn't move. "I haaaaaaaaaate you~" Jonathan said. He dug out a different shirt and pulled it over his head. "No seriously, get the Hell out of here." Sock did and Jonathan proceeded to get dressed.
The boy and his demon went out and walked.
Jonathan and Sock walked for a bit, (Sock glided) then Sock had a revelation. "Today's Saturday!"
"Yeah. Your day off."
Sock dismissed this with a wave of his hand. "We should go to the art gallery."
Jonathan swerved around at Sock, causing a couple odd glances from passersby. "There's an art gallery in this city?" he asked.
"Duh."
"Where, dude?"
Sock though for a moment. "Right down that street." Jonathan shrugged and walked down that street.
"Dude, I didn't bring any money."
"Just go in."
"What?"
"I wanna see how far you get. Just look like you know what you're doing."
Jonathan took a deep breath, and grinned. "Okay,"
He put on his most apathetic, bored face, and walked in, chin up, staring straight ahead. The woman at the front desk was preoccupied with a family, and didn't notice Jonathan stroll nonchalantly past.
As soon as he was out of sight he booked it down a flight of stairs and pretended to be interested in the (honestly quite pathetic) display of Notan. The gallery was deserted. He turned to Sock.
"So what now?
