So that thing did have a purpose after all.
"I thought it would only take one."
Well, it wasn't important. Edgar was unconscious now and that was what mattered anyway.
Johnny noted the man's glasses lying a short distance away from him, apparently jarred loose from the initial impact. He leaned over and carefully lifted them from the ground, folding them and placing them off to one side. He didn't want those to get broken by accident.
There was enough broken glass around anyway.
"Nny, what are you doing?" Nail Bunny again. The simple question helped remind Johnny of what his action's intended purpose was. He always tended to get caught up in them after a while.
He stared down at Edgar, who had fallen with one arm trapped underneath his body, the other curled around his head. He was bleeding from a wound that was almost hidden underneath his hair. Johnny felt disgust rising in him in response.
They didn't usually bleed either. This was uncomfortable.
"Nny?"
Right.
"I'm not quite sure." Johnny had forgotten what he had originally intended to do with Edgar. He was sure he had a plan originally, but he had gotten so involved in knocking Edgar unconscious that he had kind of forgotten it. He was sure he could think of another one if he had to...
"Are you going to kill him?" One of the doughboys.
"I don't know. Should I?"
"You don't need any blood right now." Nail Bunny pointed out. "Remember those girl scouts?"
Johnny raised a hand to his mouth thoughtfully. "That's right..."
"But you should preserve him, Nny. Like you should have with her." He recognized this argument. "Think about it...a friend trapped perfectly in time, unable to ever betray you..."
"Wait." Nail Bunny did not like this idea, struggling to find a logical argument. "I could understand that argument for Devi, but not for Edgar."
"What do you mean?" Johnny settled back onto his heels, keeping his eyes away from the darkness seeping from underneath Edgar's hair.
"Well, with Devi you had a perfect relationship going. You were really happy, remember? She was everything to you."
Johnny did remember with a great deal of sadness and regret. These emotions were quickly erased as he tried to refocus on the conversation. "Yes...? I don't quite see your point."
"Edgar's far from a perfect friend to you, Nny. He's terrified of you."
Johnny turned back to Edgar, reaching out one hand carefully. He knew that Edgar would not be getting up soon, but that was not the source of his deliberately slow movements. He lifted one of Edgar's hands from the floor with two fingertips before letting it fall back down again. As if he there had not been a pause at all, Johnny finally responded, his simple question sincere.
"Really?"
"You've only met twice. The first time you tried to kill him. The second time you've knocked him unconscious. This isn't perfect, Nny."
This was starting to make sense.
"He's afraid of you and he doesn't trust you. Not like she did. She did trust you, but you made a bad decision there that I don't think you should make again. You shouldn't even consider freezing Edgar now. It wouldn't be a pleasant image."
Johnny sat silently, his hand again raised to his mouth as he stared off into the distance, thinking hard.
"What should I do?"
"Well..." Nail Bunny was silent for a few moments. "I guess you could try to make your relationship perfect, although in general I would recommend not killing him at all-"
"You can't have a perfect relationship, Nny." The doughboys finally decided to return to the conversation, D-boy deciding to take the initiative. "Everything gets ruined in the end. You know that. The only time that you'll ever stop fucking things up is when you die."
"I like it." Mr. Eff phrased his words carefully, trying to sound somewhat sincere. "Imagine! Just like all the other ones, those beautiful frozen memories. We could add a friend to that list. I think that would be marvelous."
Mr. Eff thought nothing of the kind, but Johnny did not need to know that.
"What should I do?" Johnny voiced out loud, still finding no answer to his question.
"First...I'd recommend taking care of what you did to the back of his head." Johnny glanced in Nail Bunny's direction. "When he wakes up, you should try to make him trust you."
"Trust me? Why would-..." Johnny smiled in a twisted way at the irony. "I don't even trust me."
"Try at least. Maybe Edgar will be that perfect friend you always said you wanted."
"Maybe..."
"This is foolish. You know it'll just disintegrate like everything else, turn into nothing more than ashes in a jar."
"No, I think there's a chance here." Mr. Eff had a smile in his voice. "A chance for something truly interesting."
Scratch scratch scratch.
Todd huddled underneath his sheets, clutching Shmee to him in terror. He squeezed his eyes shut, repeating a simple mantra in his mind as he tried to control his fear.
Please let it be the wind, let it be the wind, let it be the wind...
Scratch scratch scratch.
"Squee?"
Todd gulped and finally sat up, Shmee held tightly in his arms as he turned towards the window. Sure enough, the scary neighbor man was there, standing and waving to him with fake cheer. If that was supposed to be comforting, it certainly failed in that regard.
Johnny pointed to the window and the child reluctantly made his way out of bed, unlatching the window slowly. His parents had not appreciated how his previous one had been broken and besides...Johnny would find a way in whether Todd let him in or not.
Johnny did not enter when Todd opened the window, instead leaning against the sill and trying to feign nonchalance.
"You don't have a Band-Aid, do you?"
Todd stared at Johnny, trying to hide his fear and failing remarkably. "Did you hurt someone?"
Johnny paused at this question, looking back towards his house for a moment before returning his eyes to the boy. He seemed confused for a moment, but that faded quickly. "I changed my mind. Do you have one?"
Todd, in fact, had a variety of things stored beneath his bed just in case an emergency should arise. Considering the amount of incredibly bizarre and scary things that happened to Todd on an almost daily basis, he found it necessary to at least try to prepare. Dealing with Johnny was becoming a regular event in his life as well, which was another reason why Todd has assembled a small first-aid kit underneath his bed.
Besides, Shmee said it was a good idea.
Todd rummaged through the shoe box carefully, noting some items had mysteriously gone missing. That did not surprise him. He could explain his lack of gauze and other larger bandages however; Johnny had taken those when he had visited him again after he had gotten into a fight with someone. Or something like that.
Finding a small tin of bandages, he handed them over to Johnny warily, not trusting the bright smile that lit up his face on receiving them.
"Thanks, Squeegee."
Thankfully, that seemed to be all that Johnny wanted from him at that moment, and the man left, allowing Todd to shut and lock the window immediately afterwards.
As he crawled back into bed, his back turned to the wall and Shmee protecting his chest, he wondered why he even bothered to shut the window at all.
It didn't really seem to help.
Johnny entered the house, stepping over Edgar's body as he made his way to the couch. He opened the tin of bandages with a jerk.
"So you are going to help him?"
"Our friendship isn't perfect, remember? For once I want something to be perfect." Johnny pulled out several bandages between his fingers, dropping them onto the couch carefully. He stared at them for a moment before he simply upended the tin entirely, dumping all of the prepackaged strips onto the thick cushions. A few bounced off and disappeared into the cracks of the couch and a few fell on the floor, but the majority stayed where they had fallen. Johnny stared at them as if they were the cause of his general unhappiness. "Just once I want something to not end up..." Johnny grasped feebly for words before giving up, grabbing a handful of the bandages as he made his way back over to the unconscious figure on the floor.
"Just once."
"This may be your only chance. You can't mess this one up, Nny."
"I know that." Johnny sat down irritably beside Edgar's body, noticing that the blood had stopped oozing. That seemed like a good sign. He freed one bandage from its wrapper and moved Edgar's hair out of the way, studying the wound with his best attempt at clinical detachment.
Johnny was not skilled at dressing wounds. He had managed to take care of himself when he was injured before, but he guessed that some of his recuperative abilities had been due to his seeming inability to die. He had no idea how to take care of other people, but he could guess.
Besides, now he had something to focus on.
After clumsily bandaging the general area of bruising and bleeding, Johnny sat amidst the wrappers, brushing them off of his clothes and his skin with irritation.
"You should put him on the couch. Maybe he'll wake up."
"I doubt that, but alright."
Johnny stood and dragged Edgar over to the couch without too much trouble, hefting him up carelessly as he flopped back into the cushions without resistance. Johnny stared down at him for a few moments then sighed, sitting down.
"When do you think he'll wake up? It's not going to be soon, I know that much."
"You're stressed." Mr. Eff's voice came back to him. "You should go down into the basement. There are still some people there that could use your attention. We'll tell you if he wakes up or not."
That was a pleasant thought. Smiling again, Johnny stood and walked out of the room. "I'll be back soon."
He wasn't speaking to Edgar.
Oh GOD that hurt.
Are you okay?
Of course I'm not okay, what kind of question is that? Some large blunt object just paid some unexpected visit to the back of my head. I'm not okay.
Who...Johnny of course. I already knew that...Why?
That's a good question. Not so easy to answer.
Well, he seemed to like me before. Why would he attack me now?
Maybe you did something wrong.
Like what?
I don't know. He is crazy you know. It was probably something I couldn't have prevented it anyway.
Maybe he wanted your coat.
My coat. Actually, now that you mention it...
No...he wouldn't kill me just for my coat.
Yeah. Right.
...I still don't think he would do that.
I think you're giving him way too much credit.
I think he deserves some.
So tell me, how many people did he kill tonight?
...He was provoked.
Well he was obviously provoked enough to acquaint your head and a bat, wasn't he?
I didn't do anything though.
Where did those scars come from, hmm?
...I don't think he did it because I did something wrong.
Well, he certainly did it. It's most likely that he just lost it and I was the closest person nearby. Maybe he wants to paint with me again.
God, that sounds strange.
Well, that's what he said before, right? Maybe that's what he wants.
All this just for that?
He is insane.
I know that. You repeat it all the time.
You always seem to forget.
God, it still hurts.
I'd expect as much.
...Wait...who are you?
Edgar gradually managed to regain consciousness painfully and with a certain degree of randomness. He'd wake, fall asleep, wake, and then fall asleep. Considering the lack of dreams, this was incredibly disconcerting. Edgar usually liked to know what time it was. Irritating.
When Edgar finally decided to remain in the conscious world, he lay there without motion for a while, making sure that it wasn't going to blink out of existence again.
He struggled to move his arm, which thankfully responded. His legs did as well...that was encouraging. Maybe there would be no permanent damage.
His head seemed amazingly heavy when he tried to roll onto his side. Not to mention that the back of it felt somewhat peculiar. Not the feeling one would expect from an open wound, which is what he logically assumed he had.
Where am I...
I know where I am.
How long will I live?
Edgar struggled again to roll over, managing to push himself with his arms into a sideways position, propping his head up on one arm of the chair. He struggled to keep the world from spinning and from lapsing back into unconsciousness again.
The back of his head ached insistently and painfully and he wished that he could have some aspirin. He almost wished to go unconscious again just so the pain would stop.
He wasn't sure how much time passed as he lay on the couch, struggling to get his bearings and deal with the pain. It was hard to judge time. Not to mention his glasses were missing and everything had blurred entirely into obscurity. That was also extremely disorienting.
Eventually he could hear someone coming up the steps somewhere. As this noise came to his attention, he noticed that his ears were ringing just slightly. That was to be expected, he supposed.
Maybe it's Johnny. Probably come to finish the job.
With a sigh, Edgar tried to relax. At least death would make his head stop aching. He let his muscles go lax as he stared off into the distance, unable to move his head any further.
"Oh..."
Of course it was Johnny. Slight disappointment in his voice. That was peculiar.
"You're awake."
Edgar struggled to respond, but he hadn't spoken in some time, or at least that's what it felt like, and he only managed to mumble incoherently. The vibrations from his voice caused the pain in his head to renew.
"You might be wondering what hit you."
No, not really. But indulge me.
"That would be me." He could not see Johnny, but he could hear him making his way around the couch and sitting down somewhere near his legs. He could only tell from the shift in the cushion's position. Johnny wasn't touching him, but that was also to be expected to some extent. "You might be wondering why."
Edgar moaned softly as he tried to respond. Aspirin...I would die for some aspirin.
Ironic choice of words there.
"I..." Pause. That was familiar. "I changed my mind."
Changed your mind!
"I thought about doing something...but then I decided that I shouldn't. Not..." Johnny cut himself off smoothly. "So here you are..."
Edgar wanted to move onto his back, but could not muster the energy to do so. He made another pained noise in response instead, this one clearly not happy or accepting of the current situation.
"Yeah, I can kind of understand why you'd be upset. It was..." Pause. "Well, I took care of the..." Another pause. "So you should be alright shortly."
"Mmph."
Edgar closed his eyes before he could really realize what Johnny had said.
Wait...he took care of it? Does he mean me? Did he take care of me?
God, that's frightening. I wasn't aware he could do that. At all. I didn't think he could care.
He probably can't. But play along with him.
I don't think he's lying.
"I don't envy the pain you're in currently..." Another longer pause. Johnny's next words seemed a bit more enthusiastic, as if he had just discovered or remembered something. "I think I might have something for that."
He saw something black move across his general field of vision which he assumed to be Johnny's legs. The blur vanished and he could hear Johnny head off somewhere.
Somewhere.
Edgar felt himself drifting off despite the current pain he was in, which he was thankful for. At least in sleep that ache would stop for a while.
Time was becoming increasingly relative. That was irritating.
He was not sure how much time happened to pass before he found consciousness again. Disconcerting to say the least.
The pain wasn't lessening either, which was not really helping.
Any time from between five minutes to five days could have elapsed while Edgar slipped in and out of consciousness on the couch. He wondered if he was taking a long time to recover, but then again, Edgar did not have a wealth of experience or knowledge regarding how to recover from severe head trauma.
So he was not sure how long it was until Johnny came back. He wish he knew because that would at least give him a useful frame of reference. All he could do was struggle to try and think of how long it would have taken Johnny to get whatever it was he was getting.
How long would that have taken? He was not sure.
The next thing he knew after he had drifted off was the feeling of the couch moving. Johnny was sitting near him again, although he still studiously avoided touching him. Edgar wasn't sure how long he had been there.
"Here."
He did not seem very impatient. Maybe it hadn't been a long time after all. Edgar opened his eyes, not sure of what he was looking for amidst all the vague conjoined colors that comprised his current field of vision. He tried to make a questioning noise.
"Take it. This should help."
Take what?
Edgar could not see anything without his glasses, but he squinted at the dark black splotch near him in an effort to make out anything recognizable. He had to crane his neck painfully to do so, but he was able to tell that Johnny was holding out something to him. Half of that was logical deduction though.
Edgar made another pained noise as he tried to move his arm. His body now seemed increasingly unresponsive. That was not a good sign.
He looked over at Johnny again, struggling to make out what he was holding. He guessed it was an ice pack or something of that nature.
He tried again to lift his arm, but it refused to move.
"C'mon. Take it already."
What's wrong with you? Can't you tell? I can't move!
Edgar struggled to force words out of his mouth. "Nng...can't..."
He could not see Johnny's reaction, but he could make out movement. He was not clear on what Johnny was doing exactly, but he did not seem willing to place the ice pack on Edgar's head by himself.
"What do you mean you can't?" He sounded genuinely confused.
You knocked me unconscious, you...! Don't you know?
Of course he wouldn't know. He doesn't understand.
"Can't...!"
Edgar was intensely frustrated at how his body was refusing to respond to him. This was an entirely foreign experience to him and he hated that. He had no previous experience to base any kind of plan on. He did not know what to do. He hated that.
Johnny was silent for a long time, although that did not really matter to Edgar. The throbbing pain in the back of his head had almost become a noise in itself. His ears were still ringing as well.
He had never felt this bad before.
He moaned again, somewhat pleased that at he could at least still do that.
"Why can't you take it..." Johnny seemed to be talking to himself. "I guess you..."
Edgar was not normally a violent person. But considering the intense pain he was in and the sheer frustration he felt at that moment, he sincerely and deeply wanted to beat Johnny over the head with a bat.
Just to make it perfectly clear as to why he could not move his arms at this moment.
But Edgar could do nothing.
"Alright..." Johnny broke the silence again, although for all the world it seemed he was talking to someone else. "I guess..."
If Edgar had his glasses, this would at least be tolerable. He wondered vaguely where they were.
He could faintly hear and feel motion through the shifting of weight on the cushions, but he was not sure what to expect. Perhaps Johnny would leave and do something else. That'd be nice.
In the midst of his entirely internal annoyance, pain, and frustration, Edgar was completely unprepared for the cold shock against the wound on his head. He jerked sharply in response, his body finally galvanized back into action. He was not sure how Johnny reacted to his movement, considering he could not really see, but he doubted he was at all pleased.
Still, the sharp cold pressed against the back of his head, numbing the pain gradually as Edgar calmed his breathing. As the pain faded, he felt clarity come in its place. He felt much better already.
Wait...was Johnny...?
When he struggled to focus his myopic eyes on other man, all he could see was a faint black blur near him, as far away as possible with the pack still being within in his grasp. So Johnny was, indeed, holding it against his head.
Why.
Why!
"There."
He wished he could see his expression. As it was, all he could see were vague colors. Dark blue, black, white, and a yellowish tinge...
He knew where Johnny was and had a vague idea of what he was doing. But he could not see how he felt.
Not that Johnny was exceptionally easy to read anyway.
He did feel better though.
"Thanks..." He mumbled as best he could. He was not sure if it came out intelligibly or not, as Johnny gave no response.
With the ice pack in place, Johnny apparently felt that his responsibility was over and got up to do something else. That did not really surprise Edgar, considering he probably had something he could be doing right now. Something more important than just staring at him.
That was getting uncomfortable anyway. Even if he could not necessarily see Johnny's eyes on him, he could still feel them.
The ice did help and Edgar fell into a more pleasant rest, this time not plagued with pain.
Eventually he was able to lift himself upwards, allowing his vision to adjust as he raised a hand to the back of his head to explore. He felt the familiar sensation of bandages. That he could recognize without the help of his eyes. He placed the long-melted bag off to one side.
Where did Johnny get that anyway?
Where did Johnny get bandages as well?
It didn't really seem like he would ever need them.
The ringing in his ears had finally subsided and Edgar felt almost normal, excepting the loss of his glasses. He initially was rather hesitant about searching on the floor, considering the multitude of bizarre items he had seen there before he had been knocked unconscious, but he would really prefer to be able to see.
So he slowly got down on his hands and knees, feeling about cautiously where he estimated he must have fallen. Glittering things on the floor got hesitant taps at first, to insure they were not just broken glass shards, then he moved onwards. It did not take him long to find his glasses, folded and placed carefully to one side, some distance from a still moist dark spot on the floor. Newly shed blood. Edgar had a sneaking suspicion that it might have been his.
It did give him some reference of time, however. It hadn't dried yet.
He sighed in relief as the world slid back into focus. With the return of his vision, he felt a resurgence of confidence and capability. He made his way back to the couch and sat down, ignoring the faint aching in the back of his head as he looked around for Johnny. He was not here...probably in one of the lower floors.
Doing something.
You should go home now. Before he comes back.
Why? He'd just track me down anyway.
Well, what are you going to say when he comes back?
I don't know.
You're not going to ask him why, are you?
I know why.
Then what?
...Don't know.
Edgar sighed as he leaned his head back on the cushions, staring upwards at the ceiling in an effort to distract himself.
I didn't used to talk to myself.
Everyone talks to themselves to varying degrees. That's nothing special.
Edgar sighed again and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.
God, what am I going to do?
Interesting you'd call on him now.
Don't even start.
He could hear Johnny coming up the steps and found that he was peculiarly without reaction. It was not until he actually opened the door, a somewhat pleased expression on his face, that Edgar felt a tinge of fear.
There's no real graceful way out of this, is there?
Don't ask me.
Maybe that waswhy he was not frightened. There was nothing he could do.
"Oh, you're awake." Johnny looked at him for a moment with a blank expression before he smiled again. "That's good. I was wondering how long it would take."
"How long has it been?"
Just brilliant.
"Not long." Johnny seemed slightly distracted, as if he was looking for something in the room and having a conversation with Edgar to pass the time until it came to his attention. Edgar could not help but look around the room himself, finding that Johnny's eyes were resting on one of the hideously painted Styrofoam things on a dresser. He couldn't suppress a shudder at their disturbingly distorted expressions.
"Thanks to you, I guess."
Could that have been any more awkward? No, really. I can't think of any other way-
Shut up.
Johnny inclined his head at him again before snapping his fingers. "That's right, the bandages. Those weren't mine."
"I didn't think they were." Edgar leaned back against the couch with a deep sigh.
"They were Squeegee's." Johnny looked off to one side, perhaps towards the mentioned person's house, before returning his attention to Edgar. He lifted one hand for some unknown purpose before it fell back. "I..."
"Why did you knock me out?"
I thought you said you knew.
I could guess. I don't know.
That was apparently an uncomfortable topic and Johnny's reaction reflected that as bestit could. He looked downwards, raising his previously useless hand to run it through his messy hair. "That..."
Wait for it.
"I changed my mind."
Saw that coming.
"Why'd you do it in the first place? I didn't do anything to you."
That didn't work before, Edgar, and it won't work now.
"I know, but..." Johnny's tone changed. Slightly irritated, but still apologetic. Again the words drifted off into silence.
Edgar just sighed. "I probably wouldn't understand."
Johnny was silent for such a period of time that Edgar turned towards him to make sure he was still present. He was, only staring at Edgar intensely, as if waiting for him to do or say something.
Edgar felt awkward now that he knew of the attention focused on him, and he raised a hand to gesture to words that did not come. His hand eventually fell back down, just as Johnny's had before.
For once, Johnny broke the silence.
"I don't feel comfortable discussing it."
Strangely, Johnny sounded genuinely apologetic there. Edgar did not expect that at all.
"Now what?"
What kind of question is that?
"Now...?" It was now Johnny's turn to stare at him blankly. "Oh...it's...late."
"Right." Edgar did not even bother to ask for the time. "If I am going to go home, could I at least ask for your phone number or something?"
Why. Why on earth do you want it? What use could you have for it? You're-
"Oh..."
"It's not in the phonebooks..."
"Oh..." Almost an echo of his previous short response. Picking up a pencil, he scribbled something quickly on a piece of paper, handing it to Edgar with the same befuddled look he had before. He had obviously not expected that at all.
In a strange way, neither had Edgar.
Now I've got some way to track him down.
His number probably doesn't exist, you idiot.
Edgar sighed softly at the valid point his own mental dialogue had created and looked back up at Johnny. He was still standing there, staring at him, a few loose, bloodstained strands of his hair hovering around his dark-rimmed eyes.
"Are you going to kill me?"
Johnny stared at him, and, as if it was almost painful to say, managed to respond.
"No."
"Why not?"
Never can take things at face-value, can you?
At this, Johnny narrowed his eyes at Edgar dangerously. "Does it really matter?"
Edgar took the hint. "Alright. That's okay."
Should I get up?
Edgar used the armrest as his main support as he pushed himself back onto his feet, watching Johnny back away from him as he did so, arms again behind his back. Edgar felt a rush of dizziness that quickly passed and he turned back towards the dark man, who stared at him so distantly and clinically.
At least it was better than murderously.
"I'm going home, alright? I...need to rest."
That felt awkward.
Johnny just nodded in response and Edgar struggled to make his legs work properly as he made his way to the door. Before long he was out on the lawn, again making his way back to his house through unfamiliar territory.
Johnny watched him go quietly.
"You're not very good at this, Nny." A voice came to him, and he twitched slightly in response, narrowing his eyes.
"I will get good at this."
Johnny smiled.
"And then I'll kill him."
Author's Note - Yeah, Devi DID ask Nny out. That's what ya get fer not havin Jthm with ya when ya start stuff like this. I guess ya could interpret it as Nny bein more assertive cause of Edgar's influence, but that's really just grasping at straws. I just fergot.