Johnny had no intention of sleeping--particularly after what had happened last time he had given in to it--but Edgar had no reason to follow his example. When the time began to venture into single digits, Edgar yawned, announced he was going to bed, and awaited a response.

Johnny had not said a word to Edgar after he figured out how to work the remote control.

He at least expected a good night but was not surprised when it did not come. He shut the door behind him as he went into his room, turned off the lights, and went to bed.

He was not sure how much time had passed before something woke him; a slight rustling and a change in the mattress's position. He was unfamiliar to such sensations, sensitive to them.

He rubbed at his eyes and tried to focus in the darkness on what could have caused such a disturbance. The window that he usually kept hidden behind curtains was now open. The night outside was still and quiet, so the noise had not come from there.

However, a great deal of moonlight had found its way through the window and gave his room more illumination than he would have expected. He still could not see anything specific, only dark blotches that could have been anything.

"You asked me..." The whispered voice shocked him for a few seconds before Edgar remembered who was in his house. He turned in the general direction of the voice but could not make out its exact source. He fumbled for his glasses as the whisper continued, an almost singsong tone entering into it. "You asked me if there was anything that made me happy."

"Yeah..." Edgar's voice was still thick from sleep. He guessed that maybe Johnny was standing near the window...there was a dark spot there.

"The moon..." Soft, almost plaintive words. "The moon does...make me happy. The moon and the stars...look at it..."

Edgar's questing fingers finally felt the edges of his glasses and hesitated. Would they really help in this situation? He doubted Johnny was going to turn on the light. He left them where they were.

"It is...it's rather pretty sometimes."

"It's..." A dark spot against the soft light moved towards him, causing him to jump slightly. Johnny had been sitting near the foot of his bed, although still in view of the window. "I can't explain it really..."

"You can try..." Edgar sat up fully and ran a hand through his hair unconsciously, watching the dark spot's motion. Now that he had identified it, he could recognize the colors of Johnny's clothes and skin, although they blended in with his surroundings now. "I'll listen."

"You'll listen..." Johnny sighed and stood, moving along the side of the bed slowly until he stood next to where Edgar was sitting. He sat down near him slowly, hesitantly. Edgar could make out his head, his hands, but not his face. "You listen to me."

"Yes..."

A long silence followed. Edgar toyed with the edge of his sheets as he waited for Johnny to formulate his thoughts.

I wonder what he wants to say...

Are you there...?

"I want to tell you something." Johnny had his back to him. Edgar was fairly sure of now. "It's important."

"I'm listening."

More movement. Now Johnny faced him, his hands pushing down on the sheets so he could feel the fabric being pulled across his legs. Despite the change in position, Edgar still could not see his face. Maybe he should have put on his glasses after all...

"I'm going to kill you, Edgar."

Against all rational thought, Edgar's first reaction to this news was a deep sigh.

"I can't...I can't say...I'm really...surprised." Edgar looked at Johnny, amazed at his own apathy.

If I'm going to die, I have nothing to lose.

"Why?" Edgar waited for only a few seconds before speaking again. "And...when...?"

"It's not a bad thing." Johnny pulled his legs onto the bed, now sitting crosslegged near him. His voice was again frighteningly carefree. "I know it's hard for you to understand that, but it's not supposed to be a bad thing. I like you, you know."

"Why do you want to kill me then? If you like me..." Edgar took a short breath. "Wouldn't you want to...keep me around?"

"Oh..." His eyes were acclimating to the dark, and Edgar could see Johnny look down towards the bedspread, his hands toying with one another. "It's...I don't want..."

"If you really like me...why would you want to kill me?" Edgar rested his arms on his raised knees.

"Everyone I know...it's...I think of it like...corruption...no..." He could make out Johnny running a hand through his hair. "Everything...ends. It all ends so badly. So empty. Good-byes and farewells and you're left with nothing but bad memories. Memories of fights and arguments and sad times...they make everything so dark and murky. So...unpleasant."

Edgar waited, not sure of where this was going. Johnny raised a hand towards him, but pulled it back quickly.

"I don't want terrible memories...bad times and hurt feelings. I want it to be perfect...I want something to be perfect and clear and always wonderful...a beautiful moment frozen in time forever...I never have to say good-bye, they'd never leave at all...do you see what I'm getting at?"

"But, Nny...if you do...cut something off like that, you're...limiting the amount of happiness that you could have. Sometimes things do end badly, but there can be so many opportunities for good times through an entire relationship-"

"No!" He felt the sheet pulled sharply across his legs as Johnny's fists clenched the fabric. "No, dammit, you don't understand!"

"Nny-"

"Don't you see? Can't you see at all? I'm doing this-, I want-, I don't want ugly memories, I don't want people changing and hating, I don't want people to hate me, I don't want to hate you and I don't want you to hate me so I have to stop everything, freeze everything at that moment so that can never happen! I want this to be perfect...I want this to be something I can remember forever, something that never got broken and infected and decayed...I want...I want this to be forever...one thing in my life...to be forever..."

His hands released the sheets to take hold of his hair and then he was a miserable ball curled on Edgar's sheets, rocking slightly back and forth.

I can't...he doesn't...? I don't believe this...I had...

"You...you don't want me to hate you...?"

"God no...no no no no..."

"Nny...I wouldn't...hate you. I don't hate you now."

"No!" Johnny stopped rocking, the force of his sudden violent exclamation almost shaking his thin frame. Edgar watched Johnny's hands tremble as false fury was forced into his words and actions, thin and transparent. "No, you don't understand, this isn't about now, it's about the future! It's about what always happens! This always happens! I'm going to break you because I can't function properly myself!"

"I don't know...if you'll believe me when I say this." Edgar struggled to find words, hoping that Johnny wouldn't make good on his threat so soon. "You've tried to kill me...a lot of times now...you've frightened me and confused me...but that doesn't really matter."

This is such a feel-good moment. I feel all fuzzy inside, don't you?

I was wondering where you went off to.

Taking Johnny's lack of speech as an indication to continue, Edgar raised one hand towards him slowly. The hesitance in the motion and the jerkiness of his reactions, his hands tendency to retreat quickly at Johnny's slightest movement, revealed that his tone did not match his current mood. "Think of how this all began. Time only made everything...better, don't you think? You're here and I'm here...it's a beautiful night, the moon is out...time made this happen. Time could make more things happen-"

"No, I don't want more. I want this. I want now. I want..."

Edgar sighed and turned his attention to his sheets. He let his raised hand rest against his head, tangling his fingers as best he could in his short hair. "Listen...even if you are going to kill me...I...know it's because you...cared about me in some way. I...understand."

"I can't...no. This is going all wrong..." Johnny's hands matched Edgar's, finding a familiar place in his hair. "This isn't how it's supposed to be. I'm not supposed to..."

"You could think of it...think of it this way. You wanted to kill yourself before because you never found someone worth living for."

That was surprisingly eloquent.

"You're still alive now, for one reason or another, and...here I am."

You DO know what you just insinuated, right?

He could feel Johnny's eyes boring into him. Edgar struggled to keep his arm still as he held out his hand.

"You could have a perfect moment frozen like this...but you could miss an even better one later on."

Edgar the fortune cookie.

Shh.

Johnny's questioning eyes drove into him and the maniac's arms moved downwards, his hands held out in a confused and pleading way.

"What are you trying to do to me?"

"I'm not...I'm not trying to do anything. Here..." Edgar took a deep breath then reached out for one of Johnny's hands. He hoped that with the speed and force that he used that his shaking would not be noticed. The skeletal fingers wrapped around his own automatically.

"See...if you killed me before...this never would have happened."

Johnny was silent for a few moments, then he pulled his fingers free from Edgar's grip, his arm settling back protectively against his thin body. Hoping to read some kind of reaction, Edgar was disappointed. Johnny remained impassive throughout each nerve-wracking second of suddenly loud heartbeats and inhalations. The silence now felt more oppressive than ever.

Slowly, Edgar saw fingers coming through the darkness at him. They touched the skin beneath his eyes, caught the edge of a bandage with one nail.

"I don't understand you." Johnny's voice was unreadable. "I told you...right now I just told you that at some point in our relationship, I plan on killing you, and you're still here."

A tug at the plastic and a tug at his skin in response. Edgar winced slightly but did not move. Johnny edged even closer and now his facial features were in range to be read. Confusion and determination.

"Listen to me now, Edgar Vargas." Johnny hissed. A sharper tug on the bandage raised more of its glue from his skin painfully and Edgar could not suppress a shudder. "Listen to me. I am going to hurt you. And when the time comes, I am going to kill you."

"I know-"

"Then tell me why. Why aren't you running out of this room, fighting me, making me stop like any normal person? Why don't you fight me, Edgar?" Johnny punctuated his menacing words with more tugs on the bandage, causing more sharp sparks of pain. Edgar winced but still did not move away.

"While we're asking questions..." Edgar hissed through his teeth. "Why do you want to hurt me at all?"

The nail against his skin left as Johnny withdrew his hand, staring at Edgar with a strange sense of calm rather than the indignant rage he had expected. Edgar returned his gaze as coolly as he could manage.

Johnny finally broke contact to move his eyes back down to the sheets. Edgar almost could not hear his next despondently slow words.

"It's what I do."

I'm going to die anyway. I'm going to give it a try.

"If there's anything I'm trying to do...it's...trying to make things easier for you." Edgar rubbed at the bandage on his face, pushing the adhesive back against his skin. He searched for Johnny's eyes as he spoke, but he kept them downcast, focusing on his hands with familiar intensity. "I saw something...a while ago. While you were watching that movie. I saw something that...wasn't broken. I know that somewhere...there's a piece of you that works."

After saying this, Edgar took another deep breath and held it for a few seconds, hoping it would give him the courage that he needed. Slowly and hesitantly, he reached out his hands and placed them on Johnny's thin shoulders. The bones poked into the palms of his hands, his shoulder blades lingering at his fingertips. At the contact, Johnny's head snapped upwards and he stared at him with with a mixture of confusion and mistrust.

"What are you doing?"

"I..." Edgar lifted his hands immediately at the sudden movement, his heart jumping at Johnny's words. Only a few seconds passed before he let them fall back into place as a smile crossed his face. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know that." Johnny glared at him. "I-I don't like to be touched." He seemed thankful for this change in subject and latched onto the new topic quickly. "It's empty."

"Empty?"

"Yes, empty. Every touch, every person's skin and nerves grating against my own, it's all meaningless. Everything is for a cheap thrill, for the moment, for personal gratification and another mark on a meaningless tally, and moving on. It's all empty, animal urges that never got fully erased, lusts and desires we mask with more complicated titles. It's all so disgusting, all so...empty. Nothing is as real as anyone says, every touch just takes more of me away, absorbing and taking."

In the midst of a speech that sounded almost as if it had been rehearsed, Johnny's hands flashed out with characteristic speed and accuracy. The thin fingers wrapped tightly around Edgar's wrist and pulled his hand upwards, palm facing the blue-haired man. Johnny stared at Edgar, his voice almost crazed with a strangely desperate passion.

"Look at this, look at this! Flesh and sinew all melded together into such an imperfect machine! A void where there ought to be meaning. Where there should be something, anything, there is nothing."

Johnny took his free hand and pressed it against Edgar's, fingers matching his own as a mirror image. The skeletal tips pushed into his skin and Edgar felt the hairs on his arms rise.

"It's..." Johnny paused, taking a deep breath. "God, it's so base and...so pointless. Meaningless animalistic attraction without any kind of redeeming value...I can feel it...I can feel you pulling at me as I speak. Your touch just taking from me...you're empty...you're so empty..."

Is he trying to convince me or himself...?

You know, most people wouldn't stand for being called a meaninglessly empty animalistic...animal. You should do something about that.

"Nny-"

Johnny continued as if Edgar hadn't spoken but had somehow prompted him to continue at the same time. "I don't like to be touched. I don't want to be touched because-"

"Nny, listen to me." Edgar's surprisingly stern tone startled Johnny into silence. His claw-like fingers still dug into the skin of his wrist and he could feel Johnny's cool skin against his own. "I'm not empty." Edgar raised his free hand before Johnny could speak. "Listen to me for once. I am not empty."

Edgar moved his trapped fingers, sliding along the edges of Johnny's until they held tightly onto the thin, cold palm. "Look at this. You can feel this. You can feel this. I don't want anything you're talking about. I don't want gratification. I don't want anything from you at all. You're not here because I wanted your company. You're not sitting on this bed talking to me because that's what I wanted to do with my life."

"Don't-"

He could feel Nny's fingers beginning to slide from his wrist. "You're in control of this, Nny. You're even in control of me, to some extent. I don't want to take anything from you. I don't want to take anything. I'm not trying to fill a void in my life, I'm not some black hole trying to tempt you to the dark side."

Mixing your metaphors there.

Not now.

"I'm not trying to use you. I am not empty and I am not a wall, Johnny. I'm here for you, but I'm still here."

Didn't know you had it in you, Edgar. You really told him off.

In the silence that followed, Edgar was not sure what to do. One hand now rested harmlessly against the sheets, but his other was still in the air, still holding onto Johnny's palm.

Slowly Johnny lowered his fingers, tips scraping between his knuckles, and his wrist was released. They sat there with their hands intertwined, neither of them sure how to break the silence.

I wish I had a camera. This would make a great picture.

You never quit, do you?

"I want to fix you."

Edgar hoped that maybe his words would prompt some kind of response from the taciturn man but he still sat quietly, his eyes fixated on his one hand.

Almost two minutes passed.

"I want to kill you right now." A very soft, vulnerable whisper. "I want you dead."

Edgar smiled in a sad way.

"Thanks."

Silence.

Edgar could feel Johnny's skin warm up with his consistent close contact as he struggled to find something to focus on. While Johnny no doubt was thinking deeply about what Edgar had said, Edgar could only think of how awkward this pause was.

So many pauses in your conversations and you're still not used to them?

Johnny didn't say anything, only alternately looking from his trapped hand to his trapped victim with varying emotion. Edgar tried to maintain eye contact, but his own eyes followed Johnny's to their matched hands more often than not.

A faint light began to shine outside the window. It grew with steady intensity as a car drove by on the street, engine breaking the fragile quiet that held them together. It faded away without either of them looking away or speaking.

What do I do now?

God, you're so bad at this. Think Edgar! You like to read. You go out and see movies occasionally. Now, think carefully about this -- what would they do in this situation? Say, our hero has been confronted with a weeping or emotionally confused friend. He restates his friendship and intention to remain committed to said friendship. And what happens after that?

...Um...

Well, they don't just hold hands. More often than not, if your faulty brain would like to recall, they tend to hug. Men, woman, and children. All hug.

Are you saying I should hug him? Are you insane?

Coming from the man who just held his hand and told the serial killer not to toy with him?

I'm not going to hug him, he told me before, I'm not going to do something-

Look at Edgar, a regular flimsy excuse factory. Pump out another one. C'mon, it's not a big deal. Give him a quick, manly hug.

A manly hug.

Hey, you're the one holding hands with some guy in the dark in the middle of the night.

Edgar sat and watched Johnny's expression, hoping that it would give him some indication as to what to do. Johnny at the moment was not staring at Edgar or his trapped hand, his eyes instead fixed on the bedspread once again as if he expected it to break the silence.

Maybe I shouldn't interrupt him.

Johnny looked up as he noticed Edgar's inquisitive look and his expression softened into one of bewildered puzzlement.

It's amusing how both of you have NO idea how the other one thinks. Now hug him you twit.

Edgar coughed slightly, one of the first noises to come from either of them since he had taken hold of him. He gently pulled Johnny's hand toward him and found that the skeletal man did not resist, his only reaction a curious stare. As Edgar raised his other hand, Johnny mimicked him, the expression on his face dispelling any doubt that this was accidental.

See, he wants to hug you too.

God, what do you have to gain from this?

A hug. Paranoid much?

Johnny's right arm settled across his shoulders, touching his neck briefly before sliding downwards. He suppressed a shudder at the lack of flesh on the man's bones, the chilling feeling of unnatural and unhealthy thinness. Edgar untangled his fingers from Johnny's so as to complete the hug and Johnny followed suit, awkwardly and hesitantly. A second skeletal arm to join the first. He could feel the ribs through Johnny's back and trace his fingers across his spine. Edgar's hands stumbled for a moment over his protruding shoulder blades before settling down just beneath them.

This disturbed Edgar a great deal. He had seen pictures, heard stories, and had been warned against the consequences of an insufficient diet. Yet here he was actually holding an illustration in his arms. It felt unnatural and strange.

You know what your first reaction to this is? What you want to do? You tried to hide it pretty quickly, but I know what it was. You wanted to feed him. You want to fix the psychopath and make him all healthy. That's so cute, Edgar. Seriously. You should go out to dinner, make a regular date out of it.

...tell me to hug him, then make fun of me for it. What do you want?

Oh, come now. I didn't poke fun at you hugging him. I poked fun at the fact that our dear delightful martyr Edgar wants to feed the starving man-child that's killed hundreds. Oh, and by the way, I can feel it in you now. How long has it been?

Don't start this again-

How long has it been since you hugged someone, Edgar? Since you were a little kid? You don't have any relatives now. You don't have anyone to hug except what basically could be equated to a shotgun blast to the head. Edgar's last embrace of cold hard steel. So magnificently self-destructive! Where did this come from?

Don't-

Don't what, Edgar? You've proclaimed so many times that you're not lonely and here you are! Look at it! You've made that into such a mantra that you've managed to find a loophole in it in order to keep a relationship with Johnny! You say you don't need people and here you have the worst one imaginable! You've raised the bar for hypocrisy, Edgar! It's amazing!

I'm doing this-

Oh, I'm doing this for him. Always the same story. It's for Johnny, it's to help someone, blah blah blah. Everything you do is for you, Edgar. Not other people. Everything you do is inherently selfish. That's how human behavior works. There's no altruism anymore. You know how I know this? You're hugging that maniac and guess what? You're shaking. Why is that? Your heart-rate's jumped up quite a bit as well...it's not fear. That has a different effect. What is this? Do you enjoy this? Is this what you wanted out of life?

I'm not-

Well here you go, Edgar! You wanted someone, well, here he is! He's right here! And you're so happy about it you can't even register it consciously. And look, your little friend is shaking too, although I bet it's for more practical reasons. I'm assuming he's cold.

I should wrap the blanket around us then...

And you change topics once again. I guess we'll discuss this later.

Before Edgar could make a move Johnny pulled away from him violently, visibly shaking. He stared at Edgar with wide, frightened eyes. Johnny backed away from Edgar so quickly that he stumbled, hands and feet tangling in loose sheets. Edgar sat still, not wanting to do anything to provoke him further.

"You...you're lying."

Edgar could not help a quick, soft reply. "What?"

"You've been lying to me..." Johnny did not seem angry or intent on his bodily harm, instead backing away from him as if fearing an attack. His thin hands splayed across the sheets, crumpling and shifting as he moved backwards. He stared at Edgar in terror, although the scarred man could not comprehend what on earth he was afraid of. "You've...that's not right."

"What was I lying about?" Edgar kept his voice calm and level, hoping that the conversation hadn't descended into irretrievable territory. Johnny lowered his head, hands darting up to push against the sides of it as if to keep something inside. He closed his eyes tightly, hissing words as he shook his head back and forth.

"No no no...this isn't...it's not..."

"Nny-"

"You're lying." Johnny let go of his head and met Edgar's stare calmly, his composure regained. Edgar was slightly taken aback at the sudden change in mood. "You're lying to me about everything."

"Do you have any specifics...?" Edgar tried to sound non-threatening. Johnny pointed at him accusingly.

"You said that you wanted to help me. That you liked me. But what about what I do, Edgar? You saw me tear people apart. You told me originally that I was going to Hell. What happened to that? Do you think it's okay that I kill people, Edgar?" Johnny's voice had a frighteningly panicky tone in it, desperate in some strange way. Edgar paused, formulating what he hoped would be a neutral response. Where on earth had this attack come from...?

"Nny, it is possible to like a person without liking what they do-"

"No!" Johnny finally leapt off the bed, landing on the floor in near silence without ever taking his eyes off him. He trembled violently, his entire body shaking with surprising intensity. One fist clenched tightly at his side as he continued to point at Edgar. "No no no! You don't understand! You don't understand anything!"

Johnny's last word was agonized and his hands returned to his head, grasping, nails sinking into his skin. Edgar shifted forward slowly, hoping not to attract undue attention to his movement.

"Don't you get it? Don't you see?" Johnny watched him closely, although Edgar was sure at this point that Johnny was beyond caring about whether or not Edgar was moving. "I told you before, I can't remember anything anymore. Everything's becoming blurry and ruined and I can't remember who I am or who I used to be. The only thing that defines me as me anymore is killing other people!"

"Nny, that's not true, that doesn't make you who you are. Your character and your actions are two different things, and it's possible for me to like one over the other-"

"No!" Johnny shrieked at him with sudden, vicious energy. "Don't you get it! Don't you understand? That's all I have left!"

Johnny stalked out of the room furiously, slamming the door on his way out. Edgar stared at it for a few moments as he tried to organize his scattered thoughts.

Maybe hugging him wasn't such a good idea.