South Park

Dip

Ungodly Addiction

Characters: Phillip 'Pip' Pirrup, Damien the Antichrist.

Rating: M for strong language, adult themes, nudity, violence, sexual… stuff… and a really crappy storyline.

Thoughts are in Italics

I have a universal Disclaimer in my Profile, so all angry mobs bearing pitchforks and torches are unnecessary.

**DIP**

Swirling colours, blurry images, muffled voices, vague thoughts…

And a really, really bad headache.

I moan and close my eyes, allowing the harsh whites and bizarre triangles to give way to calm dark and comforting emptiness. I roll over, only to hit something solid and… warm?

I open my eyes again only to see vibrant red and soulless black encompassing my vision. The blurred image slowly comes into focus, and I hear myself sigh contentedly.

Damien.

The big solid thing chuckles softly, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. I squirm a little and – heaven forbid – start to blush, stupid bloody hormones.

"Well, well, well…" Damien whispers huskily in my ear, sending traitorous shivers down my spine. "Sleeping Beauty, back from the dead, I see."

I roll my eyes, stretching lazily and yawning a little.

"How long was I out?" I sigh, curling back into his warm chest. His arms wrap around me again, and I feel my eyes drooping.

"A few days, I lost count. You were really worn out."

My half-shut eyes snap open and I leap out of bed, an angry cry wrenching itself from my throat. I stand there, shivering in the cold, staring at Damien in disbelief. How the hell could he let me just lie there for days?

"What? How could I sleep for that long?" I yelp, sprinting to the floor length mirror in the corner and giving myself a once over. I am – unsurprisingly, know Damien – completely naked, giving me the perfect view of my body. I'm thin, really thin. I look almost malnourished, with my ribs visible through the skin and my stomach very nearly concave. My hair is long, tangled and greasy, my face covered in rough stubble.

I look like shit.

"Well, you were gone for nearly a week before I found you. You hadn't been sleeping or eating properly there, and you were abused – you can't deny that."

Damien continued to argue his case as I kept taking stock of my appearance. Eyes sallow, haunted looking, lips down-turned in an almost permanent grimace, scars from the Fatass still angry and red on my chest, gut and arm. I scowl at the marks, silently cursing the fat fuck who put them there.

"…ip, are you even listening to me? Pip?"

I blink, slowly sinking back into reality. I shake my head before turning determinedly away from the mirror to face my - boyfriend? Lover? Saviour? Mutually beneficial fuck-buddy? I'm not so sure. I mean, I told Fatass we were a couple, and everyone else seems to think so, but…

Right, off topic here.

"Sorry, zoned out a bit there," I apologise, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. He merely grins, before repeating himself for my benefit – or because he likes the sound of his own voice, either reason works.

"When I finally knocked the Fat bastard out, you were lying on the floor, almost unconscious and bleeding. A lot. It's not at all surprising you slept for so long. Your body needed the chance to heal. Besides, it's not like I left you alone."

I nod slowly, accepting his reasoning, before pausing.

"Wait, you didn't kill the Fatass?" I ask; my eyes narrowing as Damien shakes his head. "What kind of demon boyfriend are you?"

Damien raises his arms in surrender, chuckling.

"One that knows you would've been sad that he died after you got back into your normal headspace. My already squinting eyes narrowed even further, and I hear a growl on the tip on my tongue.

"You're kidding, right? I want that fat fuck's head on a freaking silver platter, with his spleen as an entre!" I screech; my hands clenched into fists.

"And that is exactly why I was waiting for you to get into the right headspace," Damien replied firmly. "You would've been upset if I killed him – don't deny it, it's true."

I'm ready to throttle him. How could I be not ok with the bastard dying? The slower and more painful it was, the better.

"I'm not finished," Damien answered my unspoken thoughts. Stupid demon boyfriend, always being the fucking voice of reason…

"You would've been upset. I mean, sure you'd have been happy he was gone, but when you got to this point you'd have been furious. Remember, I haven't killed him, so now you can."

I pause in my mental cursing of the Thing Known as Fatass and the Demon with a Fucking Conscience. Bastard has a point.

"Wait, what?"

"When you've fully recovered, I'll help you get your revenge. I know you Pip, the real you. You bottle up what's really going on in your head and you plot their comeuppance meticulously. Your revenge is always careful, sly and humiliating as well as painful. It's quite devilish really," Damien chuckles.

"I like your style, and I want to help."

I'm liking this voice of reason.

"So, when I'm fed and rested, we can go on a rampage?" I ask, excitement leaking into my voice. The thoughts from when I set fire to the school haven't gone away, and my time in that hell-hole only made them more potent. I'm out for blood now.

"Now, now... No killing spree for you. Revenge only, got that?" Damien chuckles, waggling a finger at me like I'm a child who's been caught stealing the cookies that Daddy doesn't really like all that much anyway.

I sigh, pouting a little, before nodding grudgingly. I'm pulled from my standing position onto the bed and into the smug bastard's arms. Stupid hormones making me feel all warm and fuzzy at that look in the Stupid Satan's Spawn's eyes…

Again the bastard seems to read my mind and pulls me closer, snuggling his face into the crook of my neck and purring like a fucking kitten.

More like a Hell-hound.

Hey, I just made a joke.

I sigh, resigning myself to my horrible fate – shut up – and close my eyes, hoping to sleep some more. I concentrate on the rise and fall of Damien's chest, letting it lull me into a warm, comfortable state of half-slumber.

Damien grins and wraps his arms tighter around my waist, snuggling closer to me and sharing his body heat. I feel him kiss the back of my neck and I shiver.

Oh yeah, I could get used to this.

AN ~

Hey guys!

So sorry about not getting this up sooner, but real life got in the way again, and this time there really was no way I could avoid it – believe me, I tried.

It was going to be up two weeks ago, but a close friend died and, well, you know how it is…

Anyway – the story!

This chapter, and the next, are purely slightly fluffy filler chapters, designed to get Pip back on his feet for the next thing.

Some beautiful reviewer seemed excited that there was more, and so I feel I have to make this clear:

This is by no means the end of our tale, there is still quite a bit left to go. This was merely the climax before the climax, if you understand me.

If you don't, don't worry, not many do. :D

And so, my beautiful readers and reviewers (HINT HINT) I bid you farewell.

Until the next one!

Zanchev.