Chapter 4
If Only You Knew
And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to heaven that i've ever been And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life and sooner or later it's over I just don't want to miss you tonight
And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming Or the moment of truth in your lies When everything feels like the movies Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive
* * *
Celeste sighed as Quackerjack's message played , slumping down on her patched together red yellow and black quilt that covered her bed, attempting to sound cheerful as she left her message,"Hey..Quacky...This is Cel. I hope you're ok..I miss you. Call me back when you can, ok?" She left her number and gave the receiver a kiss so he'd at least get the sound effect before hanging up.
She sneezed and rubbed her beak, having developed a cold during the night's events, "Aw, who am I kidding? Maybe he's just..out of my league.." tears stung her eyes and she rubbed them away, "I mean I told him I loved him and he didn't even say if he liked me back.." She sighed and unfolded the wellcreased paper with QJ's number on it. She'd already memorized it and could have dialed it in her sleep. Even though she felt discouraged she knew she wasn't about to give up. She really truely cared for Quackerjack, and she held some hope he just might share her feelings.
She slid off the bed and grabbed her coat, a detemined look on her face. Ok, admittedly she was grounded, maybe for life when her father ever got home from talking to his girlfriend..if he ever came back..She forced this thought away and pushed her window open, crawling out and sliding down the drain pipe. She just HAD to find Quacky again, somehow.
* * *
Quackerjack walked back to his old hideout alone, hands in his pockets and head down. Truth to tell, he couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more sad. Scratch that. There was a time, he just didn't want to remember. Wouldn't. Quackerjack brought his keys out of his pocket and glanced up at the door. Cute scrawled letters in crayon proclaimed `Quackerjack's
Playhouse!' He paused for a minute, a menagerie of thoughts chasing each other randomly in his mind. He shoved the keys back viciously into the coat and slammed his head against the door. He couldn't go back in there. couldn't face what he was.
Quackerjack leaned his back against the wall, staring miserably into a dirty puddle on the sidewalk. He sighed, trying to regain the cheerful attitude. It seemed near impossible now, in the darkness, cold and utterly abandoned. He felt like some mangy alley dog, still trying to play like a puppy, but one that all the mothers kept their kids away from, for fear of having them lose a limb. "I miss you.Princess." He said softly, almost against his will. He flinched in pain. How many years had it been since he'd thought of his family.? Not enough. He couldn't face all that psychological rubble right now. Especially alone. He glanced up at the sky, then back at the door. He withdrew a red crayon from the same pocket and scribbled `playhouse' out. Below the scrawl he wrote, `Sanitarium' in block print.
"Time to face facts." He said bitterly, unlocking the door and walking into the shadowy warehouse. He looked around at the toys apathetically. QJ wasn't in a playful mood.
Mr. Banana Brain was on the floor as he had been that morning-discarded like so much garbage. Quackerjack passed the toy without so much as a passing glance and approached his desk. He sat down, considering his options. A small beeping noise assaulted his ears. It
proved to be the last straw.
Snarling like a rabid animal, he picked up the nearest object-an alphabet block, and hurled it towards the source of the noise. The beeping stopped, and was replaced with his automated answering machine.
"You have.3.new messages." The phone said, in a neutral voice. "Message one. Nine-twenty-AM. Quackerjack, it's Richard. If you're there, pick up." A pause, then, "Okay, fine. I'll call again later. Keep out of trouble."
Quackerjack sighed deeply, slumping further into his chair and throwing the coat off. Parole officer. "Just what I don't need." He grumbled, feeling annoyed with the universe in general.
"Message two. Six-fifty-two-PM. Jack, it's an old friend.Aryl."
"Aryl." Quackerjack repeated coldly. He didn't lift his head. She was probably going to tell him that she'd need to be in the other dimensions for a couple more years, and not to wait up.
".I can't tell you what I've been up to lately over the phone. I could tell you in person, though. I want to see you soon."
"`I want to see you soon.'" Quackerjack repeated, contemptuously, "Oh, yeah? How soon? Sometime in the next century?"
"Why aren't you there, you sweet little buffoon?"
"I have a life, maybe?" Quackerjack shot back acidly, at the message.
"You'll think Negaduck practices Buddhism compared to what I'll do to you when I get my hands on you.! Call me back soon. You know the number, or you should by now. 763-8899."
Quackerjack gazed over at the phone, still blinking the little message light. "Airlia." He scoffed, the anger coming back to him in a seething wave. "What does that little jerk want with me? Isn't she busy with her nice little EVIL club?" He briefly toyed with the idea of calling her back and getting into a nice screaming argument, then decided against it.
He tipped back in the chair a little further so he could catch the next message more clearly. Maybe it was Negaduck, describing in more graphic detail what he would do to QJ if he found him with Celeste. ::That's right, think nice dark thoughts. Wallow in self-pity. It'll make up for all those times you wanted to but wouldn't.:: He thought, morosely.
"Message three. Seven-fourteen-PM. Hey..Quacky...This is Cel. I hope you're ok..I miss you. Call me back when you can, ok?" Followed by a phone number and a smooching noise.
Quackerjack, completely stunned, lost his balance and fell to the ground with a noisy thump. He was still for a few minutes, seeing stars and feeling his heart pound."Ooh." he mumbled, feeling all of his previous injuries from the night add their complaints to his newest ones. He stood up, brushing himself off, and stared at the phone. He approached it warily, as though it might explode. Tentatively, he hit `replay' and listened to the message over. Then again, just in case he had been hallucinating. "She called me." he muttered, disbelieving. Then, louder, "She called
me!"
He stood up, pumped a fist to the sky in triumph. "Celeste likes me!!" he cried gleefully. He stopped and his face fell back to a frown. A small voice piped up.
"You don't like her?"
He shook his head violently. "No, no, it's not that, Mr. Banana Brain." He said feverishly, "Not that at all."
"Are you scared of Negaduck?" Mr. Banana Brain asked next.
"No. It isn't that either." Quackerjack muttered, feeling his heart drop, "You remember Princess?"
Mr. Banana Brain was quiet for a few minutes, then offered, "Yes."
"Well, that's why." Quackerjack said, in a tone that suggested that no more should be said about it.
Mr. Banana Brain took the hint and was silent. Quackerjack sat down at the desk again and groaned. "Why does this happen to me??" he asked, banging his head against the desk.
He glanced up. If she really did like him, she deserved to know the truth. At the worst, she wouldn't like him anymore. At the best, she might forgive him for not telling her sooner, and maybe they could be really good friends.even. boyfriend/girlfriend?
A determined look on his face, Quackerjack opened the door again and stepped outside. He hesitated just a second, remembering Negaduck's threat. Then he nodded to himself.
"No problem with that. Negs is probably busy with the rest of the Four."
With that in mind, he set off down the road, keeping a sharp lookout for Celeste.
* * *
Celeste sneezed again, rubbing at her sore beak with a tissue, one arm swinging at her side and the mending one held protectively near her chest. She glanced up at the blackish blue midnight sky with it's sparking diamond stars and for a second she could have SWORN she saw Quacky's image in the sky. She blushes and chuckled, shaking her head. Ok, so she was totally lost in this crush. She whistled to herself as she very nearly skipped along, stopping as she came to a large rain puddle, a childish urge dancing in her mind. She glanced up and down the street, then satisfied that she was not being watched she sprang forward and landing in the puddle with both feet, laughing as drops of rain splashed high into the air and drenched her. She
giggled and twirled on one foot like a ballerina, closing her eyes as the wind ran it's cool fingers through her hair. She felt more free and alive than ever before.
A ghost of a smile touched Quackerjack's beak as he watched from the shadows. She was so perfect. So pretty. Pedophile. The thought slipped into his mind, and was quickly banished.
"Heaven must be missing an angel." He quipped softly, stepping out of the darkness, "Because I think I found her."
"Q-quackerjack!" Celeste stammered, stopping so fast that she feet slide out from under her and she landed on her tailfeathers in the puddle, blushing brightly with embarassment. She got to her feet and wiped water off her as she smiled at him, curling a lock of hair around her finger. He had the most amazing smile....she sighed, her eyes gleaming with light and adoration. She stepped closer to him, lowering her gaze self conciously, "Thank you..um...what are you
doing out here? I was just coming to look for you..."
His eyes lit up in surprise. "I was coming to look for YOU, actually."He couldn't really take his eyes off her, and he flinched. ::Tell her now, or not at all.:: Commanded his mind. "Listen... Cel... You want to come with me, back to my hideout? Just to chat, I mean?" he added
hastily, lest she get the wrong idea. He couldn't have her as a friend until she knew the truth.
You..your place?" Celeste stammered, certain she'd heard wrong but her eyes lit up with a gleam of emmense pleasure, "I'd love to!" She beamed and slipped her hand into his, lacing her fingers with his as they walked along, her head resting on his shoulder. ~Wow, I've never gone back to a guy's place before...almost like I'm really his girlfriend! I wonder what is house is like..I beat it's colorful and cozy...and sweet like him..~ she thought, smiling as she snuggled
closer to him, her heart hammering in her chest from excitement. "So where do you live?" she asked conversationally, just wanting to hear his voice when he replied. The way he'd looked at her a moment ago sent chills of joys through her.
Quackerjack felt himself go slightly numb at the hug, at how she was acting. He was loved. Someone cared for him. For now, he allowed cautiously, for now. Nothing wrong with a little love between friends, but don't let this get further until she knows. It's only fair. He tentatively put an arm around her, gazing down with slightly moist eyes.
I hardly recognize you, you sap. A voice said in his mind. Whatever happened to the Quackerjack who was a loner and a loony, a hardened criminal? Well?! He grinned, acknowledging the voice with the briefest of nods. `He's gone, take a number.' He thought, inanely. He himself was at a loss to explain his behavior. Maybe Celeste brought out the best in him. Thoughts of Negaduck and consequences for his actions were way in the back of his mind. He was concentrating solely on the present.
"My hideout. ah. it's not too bad." he said, modestly, breaking the silence, "Nothing like the quality you're used to, I bet. But I do okay. For a crazy guy." He shut himself up, instantly aware that he was babbling. He did that from time to time, usually when he was
nervous.
`I should have brought her flowers.' He cursed himself inwardly. Then, `I thought this wasn't going that far?' Okay, fine. We'll wait, he promised his inner voice.
He stopped outside the Playhouse, deliberately taking the back entrance to avoid the altered sign, and bowed grandly, opening the door (Should've had it locked, he thought) and motioning her in.He stepped in after her, then shut the door. Didn't lock it. He didn't want her to feel threatened. He really didn't know whether to admire her for her bravery at wanting to venture into the abode of a crazy supervillain, or feel insulted that he obviously wasn't conveying enough fear to his audiences. It was a paradox of sorts, so he let it go. He sat down and watched her for a few seconds in silence. She's so pretty! Like a real angel. He thought, then screwed up his eyes and shook his head. No, no! That's certainly not fair on her."So.ah. can I get you anything?" he asked, fidgeting.
Celeste smiled absently, glancing around and running her hand over a brightly painted hobby horse as she smiled happily, feeling comfortable in his home," No, that's ok..."
"Oh!" she cried out suddenly in delight as she spotted Mr. Banana Brain and scooped him up. "He's so cute!!" She hugged the puppet , rubbing her cheek against him as she sat down by Quacky, "Oh sorry, I interrupted you...what was it you wanted to talk about?" she asked,
her hazel eyes sparkling, the banana puppet still propped up in her lap as if he were a real person.
She was the closest thing he'd ever seen to `poetry in motion,' and he was beginning to understand the obsession in Poe's `Annabelle Lee' story. Love really was a powerful thing.
Quackerjack couldn't help the wide smile that shot across his face when she noticed Mr. Banana Brain, and had such a positive reaction to it. His own psycho-ventriloquism techniques were taking a short absence ever since he had had the argument with the doll. That was
probably a good thing, since him unconsciously talking it might make her even more unsure about his current state of mind.
He opened his bill to speak, closed it. What could he say? How could he sit there and pour out his life story to her? She was too sweet for that. She was innocent. Like he was, once. He couldn't bear to be the miserable creature who changed that.There's that self pity again. His inner voice scolded. "I'm sorry." He said, aloud, looking at her pleadingly, hoping she
could understand, "It's just. I've never told another living soul about. what happened; to make me like this." He gestured to himself, then hung his head. Couldn't even think about it.
You see? He told himself, you can't even admit to yourself. Can't tell her, for sure."I wouldn't want to burden you. I'm sorry I made you come here. I just wasted your time."
He could hardly believe what he was saying. Here was one of the only people willing to reach out to him and show him love, and he was trying to push her away. What the hell was he doing?
He looked back at her for a moment, admiring her beauty, then walked over to the doorway morosely. His face was in shadows for a minute, and he hoped she couldn't see the single tear that dripped down his bill.
He was certain she couldn't like him. Couldn't possibly have affection for the monster that he was. All he could do was distress her, and that was the last thing in the world that he wanted.
He decided to say so. "All there is for you here is ruin. Please...just go home. Don't think about me anymore. I... I don't want to hurt you." He choked the sob, tried to back away from the room, and stumbled. He caught himself on the doorframe shakily, and added, "It's not you
that's the problem, it's me. I'm a freak."
Celeste blinked, the joy on her face faded to deep pain as she put the puppet aside and stood, moving over next to him and taking his hand,"Quacky..yer not a freak. And even if everyone said you were I wouldn't care. You couldn't ever hurt me..unless you just plain hated
me," she added with a weak smile, wiping his tear away and fighting back her own. Inside her heart was breaking that he wanted her to leave but she was determined to show him that she cared. "Look, nothing you could ever tell me would make me not care about you...you're the best friend I've ever had. If..if you really want me to leave because you just..don't like me.." she had to fight the tremble in her voice before she continued, "All you have to do is ask and I..I'll go, but don't do it if yer just trying to spare me from something because the worst thing that could ever happen to me..is losing you." she bit her lip and stared up at him lovingly, her eyes
glittering with unshead tears,still sqeeuzing his hand, "You wanted to tell me something, please do..please? I want you to trust me."
Quackerjack looked away. That one stupid tear was enough to break the dam, and he knew he was going to start sobbing in a minute. "You don't think so." He said, flatly. "I don't think that's the voice of experience speaking. I don't want to hurt you. I. I really do.love." his throat closed. He couldn't say it. "Suppose I told you I was a murderer?" he whispered hoarsly, "Suppose.suppose I told you I couldn't live with myself anymore? That that was why I gave it up?" a pause. That last, desperate attempt to make her recoil, and he sensed it hadn't worked. Then, he spoke, through Mr. Banana Brain's voice. The only way he could say it."I don't hate you. I love you."
Dead silence from his end. He'd said it. Practically signed his death warrant.
"I.don't want to lose you, either." He said, quietly. Before he knew what he was doing, he was hugging her hard. "I've always wanted a friend, but all I ever do is push them away or lie to them. That ends here. I won't lie any more. I'll tell you. But you've gotta swear that you'll keep it quiet."
Celeste hugged him back, her entire form trembling at his words. ~He loves me! He really does!~ She pulled back slightly even though all she wanted to do was hug him forever and crossed her heart, "I swear I'll never tell a soul as long as I live. I'd never betray you..I
love you, Quacky.." her tears slipped free and she wiped them away," And I'll always be your friend, always. Look, I'm Negaduck's protogee, you think I haven't seen people get killed? Like I said...nothing could make me turn away from you. You don't have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable but if you feel like you need to I'll listen, I won't ever speak of it again, and I won't judge you."
She smiled and nuzzled his cheek gently with her bill before sitting down to listen with an attentive look, folding her hands in her lap. She knew no matter what he said it wouldn't change one fact: That she loved him and he loved her. Her heart was beating so hard she wondered if it might burst into a million pieces as she sat and stared up at him.
Quackerjack stared at her, openmouthed. He had thought Celeste was just one of those people. one of them who would flinch from him, or make fun of him, as they had his whole life. But here she was doing just the opposite. He wondered if she knew precisely what she was getting herself into. You can tell her, then. I guess it's safe. After all, if you can't tell someone that sweet and devout, who *can* you tell? He thought with a small frown.
"So.you really do love me." he mused, aware he was speaking aloud. It was an unusual emotion; being loved, one that he hadn't felt for a very long time.He was turning her words over in his mind. She had promised not to judge him. "Funny, really, that I could get away with murdering my parents and my uncle, but the courtroom sends me to prison for petty theft." He
said, heavily, beginning the story.
He sat across from her, watched those pretty eyes with a devoted expression, and then nodded to himself. "It's sorta complicated, but I'll try to keep it brief. I know everybody who's ever met me has wondered why I'm like this. a psychological ruin, so to speak. You're the lucky first to hear the real reason why. Or maybe the `unlucky' first, depending on how you look at it."
He paused, considering his next words. "I guess it may come as a bigger shock to you than to most people: knowing that I deliberately killed my mother and father, and was indirectly responsible for my sister and uncle's deaths.. Seeing as how you never had a real family to call your own, you might think me a monster to destroy the one I had."
He sighed deeply. He hadn't revealed too much, yet. He could still call it off. But he knew he couldn't look at her without remembering that he had held back the truth from one of the precious few who cared about him.
"Let me give you some idea of how the house worked, first. There was me; the loner and outsider, even in his own family-the kid who brought home decent grades, along with stray cats and scripts for the school plays. Then there was my mom, a shrewish little woman who was
always telling me to follow my heart, but was shackled by the worst husband alive.a drunk, and an abusive one, too. She would go out late at night to parties, trying to find a different boyfriend. In all senses but the legal one, my parents were divorced. That little boyfriend fiasco resulted in the other dysfunctional member of our lovely little family. Amy, my baby sister...my very best friend, back then. You can imagine how my father took that."He looked down at the ground, suddenly finding it immensely interesting.
"I was only ten years old at the time.she was four. A fight started between my mom and dad, and Amy tried to stop them. He took that as insubordination and killed her. he denied doing it on purpose, but he hit her too hard for me to believe it was anything else. That very same day, I managed to steal a gun from a cop, and I shot my father, then my mother. She was witness to his murder, you see.and I had never really managed to get over the fact that she brought my sister into a world of pain and terror, and never did anything about it."He stopped, looked slightly confused, and then continued, "It's not too clear in my mind about what I did next--all a blur, really. I can remember managing to frame my father for killing my mother and sister, and then himself. I was sent to my uncle's house, who was practically oblivious to me. I was getting beaten up at school for being so emotionally off-kilter, so I joined a gang for protection, and soon became its leader. We were going to get into some fight or another--I can't remember what that was about, either, except that it was territorial. I refused to do it, and the gang took it as weakness. They said they'd kill my uncle and me if I didn't cooperate.I tried to stay home with my uncle more often. He may have been a little senile, but he was all I had left. Then came Airlia Ermine."
Quackerjack stopped again, and a dark shadow crossed his face."She wanted to show me her power. the ability to skip between dimensions like this one and the Negaverse.or Posiverse, depending. I knew I shouldn't, wasn't supposed to leave my uncle unguarded from the gangs. I did anyway. When I came back, my uncle was dead. I was all alone. Thirteen years old. I went to an orphanage. Shuttled between foster homes that couldn't deal with me cutting my wrists and back to the orphanage. Airlia didn't know about it, of course. She was too busy with her little club to care about the unusual kid who she'd shown off to...who she'd completely wrecked the life of."His sad face was suddenly transformed into one of fury. "I won't rest till I kill her, too."
A brief pause, and then he realized what he was doing. "I just admitted to you that I'm going to kill again.and I will, I won't be able to stop myself. How can you possibly love me after
that?" He put his head into his hands; his shoulders shook for a moment. He felt alone, afraid.the very personification of a child lost. "Either you're a very stupid fool, or the bravest goddess in the world." He muttered, head still down.
"I just don't want to hurt you, too. Everyone I've ever come into contact with is dead, insane, or just really, really lucky not to have been hurt or killed by me. I'd hate for that to happen to you."
He couldn't look up, but continued, "And I love you anyway. The most selfish thing I could ever do."
Celeste listened without flinching once. She was no stranger to death and probably far less innocent than he thought. At his comment about her being a fool or brave she chuckled softly,"I'm probably a little of both, but since you've told me so much, I think I owe you the
same," She paused, hesitating because Negaduck was the only person who knew this besides her, then hugged her knees against her chest and went on," I was born into a very rich family in the Negaverse. Most of this I don't really remember since I was only 2 when my
parents ditched me but I picked up bits from the teasing the other kids gave me at the orphanage. My mother was a very vain woman who straved herself the entire pregnancy so she wouldn't lose an inch of her figure. After I was born I was passed off to nannies and she went
back to her social circle. My father never gave me a second glance, you see, he wanted a son, an heir, but I was just a disappointment so they hid me away and no one ever knew they had a child except for the rumours ofcourse and a few of my mom's closest friends..I was kinda a conversational piece you could say."
"When I was 2 they finally grew tired of dealing with me at all, I was too much of a risk of being discovered and I was noisy and broke things so one night they found a deserted street when it was raining and dropped me in a gutter, then drove off. I guess they thought a little thing like me would die from expossure but someone found me and took me to the orphange. I grew up there until I was eight and every other day the kids beat me up and I was sent to my room without dinner for "rabble-rousing". So finally ran away."
"I'd been walking for hours and I found a motorcycle and curled up in the sidecar...ofcourse it was Negaduck's, lord of the Negaverse. Anyway one thing lead to another and he ended up keeping me around...until one day when I was eleven we got into an arguement and he left..I thought it was my fault but I found out years later he'd been cut off by the portal between this world and that. Anyway, in the mean time I learned to fend for myself. I became a crack-shot, a
theif and spy after the Friendly Four...yours and the Four's Nega- counterparts, took over."
"Later on I ended up here and met up with dad again..things were great for a while...but he got caught a while back before I turned fourteen and they were gonna give him the death
sentence...long story but..I broke in through the airvents and shot three guards. Killed them..I haven't touched a gun since." She swallowed hard and looked up at him, "Maybe if I'd had the chance I'd have killed my real parents too..I know I thought about it all those years ago...so we're really not that different." If he hated her for anything he would for the words she was about to say but she knew she had to get them out,"I don't think killing this person will help..I
think it'll make things worse...but if it means that much to you, I..I'll help..I want you to be happy..because I truely, deeply love you," she swallowed hard and looked into his eyes.
Quackerjack listened with a growing sense of wonder. He'd suspected that there was something dark behind her past, but he'd never dreamed.so much, for one so young. Perhaps she wasn't as innocent as he'd originally assumed. It was a marvel that she still held a glimmer of
happiness.He swallowed, for once at a loss for words. Around them were brightly colored toys, objects, it seemed, from another life. They had no place within this dark future that the two of them had woven from their somber pasts.
The silence stretched on between them, and he felt it was his place to say something. He really felt like offering to kill her real parents himself, but after what she had said. it didn't seem
appropriate. "I.ah. I'm sorry.about your parents." He said, weakly. Did violence really solve anything? Apparently he had thought it did, those many years ago. He was still using it as his crutch, even now. For how long had he used the bodies of others as stepping stones? As
long as I can remember. he thought, miserably. `We're really not that different.' Those words seemed to etch their way permanently into his mind.
"I don't want you to help me kill her." He said, "I want to do it myself." His eyes were alight with that familiar sadistic gleam. "Maybe you don't think it would help. I doubt that. But if you don't want me to. then I won't touch her. I swear it." He alarmed himself at how easily the promise was made to someone he had met that very day, against a person he had wanted to kill for years.
He was still latched onto her earlier words, shocked but not repulsed that Celeste had killed, when that mischievous voice in the back of his head whispered, reminding him of her final sentence. His shoulders slumped as he faced a different kind of defeat. She loved him, even after he had told her everything. He hadn't planned that, but he had hardly planned her being so.sad.so alone, either. He could never abandon her, even if he had detested her to no end. As it was. he did love her. More than anything in the world.But now he didn't know what to do. Long term planning wasn't his specialty, and there was the added difficulty of her unwavering loyalty. She was amazing. One of the only people he'd ever met who could make Negaduck do anything he didn't want to... and he suspected she could exert the same power over him.
"I don't believe I've ever really met another girl quite like you." he said, slowly, "And you know your dad would kill me quite inhumanly if he ever found out."But she wants to make me happy. He thought. Nobody's ever wanted that for me before. and she knows what I am. The feeling inside him was one of completeness, for a few bright minutes. He'd told her his secrets, she'd told him hers, and neither one was ready to end the friendship. "I guess now that we're so close. you can just call me Jack." He said, quietly.
"I want you to do what you think is right," she responded evenly to his comment about killing the other girl, even though she had admittedly felt a sharp twinge of jealousy thinking about her. It sounded weird coming from her, a villianess in training, to speak of rightness, especially to a super villain. A slight smile graced her beak,"My dad may be a lot of things but if they're anything I've learned it's that he talks big, but he rarely acts on it. Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him," she added with a mischevious look, snuggling closer to him and nuzzling her beak against his neck.
Quackerjack saw the look of jealousy, interpreted it correctly, and went about fixing the misunderstanding. "There wasn't anything between us." he murmured, drawing her close, "Ever."
Jack nodded wistfully. "No, I don't suppose it would be right to kill her." He admitted, "But even if it was, I wouldn't do it, because I can tell it's not what you want me to do."
He nearly melted when she started nuzzling him. He managed to save face by drawing her into a tight hug and kissing her hair. "Nobody's ever done this.been so nice to me before." he whispered, reluctant to break the silence, "I owe you quite a lot. but right now I'm just glad you're here. I think we could do anything right now."
She shivered slightly and smiled as he held her "I think we could too, Jack.." She smiled, stroking his cheek and kissed him lightly on the beak. Her father would probably kill HER at this point for being so rebelous and purposely persuing one of his team but she really didn't care. All that mattered was this moment and this kiss.She curled her arms around his shoulders and held him close until the clock chimed 11 PM.
"Dang," she muttered, pulling back with a sigh," I guess I better be getting back...my dad'll throw a fit." She didn't mention that she'd glady have stayed with him forever though it was plain in her eyes as she stood up.
Quackerjack couldn't help the brief spasm of pain that shot across his face. He would do anything to stay with her, just basking in the reflection from her glory.
`So walk her home.' Mr. Banana Brain suggested suddenly.
"You shut up! I'm not talking to you, stupid." Quackerjack said, fiercely. Then he glanced down at Celeste. "I think I should walk you home, at least to the street... It's dangerous outside, with so many lunatics out there." He offered his hand. "Unless you don't want me to.?"
Celeste raised an eyebrow. Why was he yelling at the puppet? Oh well, must be a guy thing, she thought as she shrugged it off and returned took his hand, smiling. "I love it."
* * * And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am I just want you to know who I am I just want you to know who I am I just want you to know who I am
If Only You Knew
And I'd give up forever to touch you 'Cause I know that you feel me somehow You're the closest to heaven that i've ever been And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life and sooner or later it's over I just don't want to miss you tonight
And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming Or the moment of truth in your lies When everything feels like the movies Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive
* * *
Celeste sighed as Quackerjack's message played , slumping down on her patched together red yellow and black quilt that covered her bed, attempting to sound cheerful as she left her message,"Hey..Quacky...This is Cel. I hope you're ok..I miss you. Call me back when you can, ok?" She left her number and gave the receiver a kiss so he'd at least get the sound effect before hanging up.
She sneezed and rubbed her beak, having developed a cold during the night's events, "Aw, who am I kidding? Maybe he's just..out of my league.." tears stung her eyes and she rubbed them away, "I mean I told him I loved him and he didn't even say if he liked me back.." She sighed and unfolded the wellcreased paper with QJ's number on it. She'd already memorized it and could have dialed it in her sleep. Even though she felt discouraged she knew she wasn't about to give up. She really truely cared for Quackerjack, and she held some hope he just might share her feelings.
She slid off the bed and grabbed her coat, a detemined look on her face. Ok, admittedly she was grounded, maybe for life when her father ever got home from talking to his girlfriend..if he ever came back..She forced this thought away and pushed her window open, crawling out and sliding down the drain pipe. She just HAD to find Quacky again, somehow.
* * *
Quackerjack walked back to his old hideout alone, hands in his pockets and head down. Truth to tell, he couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more sad. Scratch that. There was a time, he just didn't want to remember. Wouldn't. Quackerjack brought his keys out of his pocket and glanced up at the door. Cute scrawled letters in crayon proclaimed `Quackerjack's
Playhouse!' He paused for a minute, a menagerie of thoughts chasing each other randomly in his mind. He shoved the keys back viciously into the coat and slammed his head against the door. He couldn't go back in there. couldn't face what he was.
Quackerjack leaned his back against the wall, staring miserably into a dirty puddle on the sidewalk. He sighed, trying to regain the cheerful attitude. It seemed near impossible now, in the darkness, cold and utterly abandoned. He felt like some mangy alley dog, still trying to play like a puppy, but one that all the mothers kept their kids away from, for fear of having them lose a limb. "I miss you.Princess." He said softly, almost against his will. He flinched in pain. How many years had it been since he'd thought of his family.? Not enough. He couldn't face all that psychological rubble right now. Especially alone. He glanced up at the sky, then back at the door. He withdrew a red crayon from the same pocket and scribbled `playhouse' out. Below the scrawl he wrote, `Sanitarium' in block print.
"Time to face facts." He said bitterly, unlocking the door and walking into the shadowy warehouse. He looked around at the toys apathetically. QJ wasn't in a playful mood.
Mr. Banana Brain was on the floor as he had been that morning-discarded like so much garbage. Quackerjack passed the toy without so much as a passing glance and approached his desk. He sat down, considering his options. A small beeping noise assaulted his ears. It
proved to be the last straw.
Snarling like a rabid animal, he picked up the nearest object-an alphabet block, and hurled it towards the source of the noise. The beeping stopped, and was replaced with his automated answering machine.
"You have.3.new messages." The phone said, in a neutral voice. "Message one. Nine-twenty-AM. Quackerjack, it's Richard. If you're there, pick up." A pause, then, "Okay, fine. I'll call again later. Keep out of trouble."
Quackerjack sighed deeply, slumping further into his chair and throwing the coat off. Parole officer. "Just what I don't need." He grumbled, feeling annoyed with the universe in general.
"Message two. Six-fifty-two-PM. Jack, it's an old friend.Aryl."
"Aryl." Quackerjack repeated coldly. He didn't lift his head. She was probably going to tell him that she'd need to be in the other dimensions for a couple more years, and not to wait up.
".I can't tell you what I've been up to lately over the phone. I could tell you in person, though. I want to see you soon."
"`I want to see you soon.'" Quackerjack repeated, contemptuously, "Oh, yeah? How soon? Sometime in the next century?"
"Why aren't you there, you sweet little buffoon?"
"I have a life, maybe?" Quackerjack shot back acidly, at the message.
"You'll think Negaduck practices Buddhism compared to what I'll do to you when I get my hands on you.! Call me back soon. You know the number, or you should by now. 763-8899."
Quackerjack gazed over at the phone, still blinking the little message light. "Airlia." He scoffed, the anger coming back to him in a seething wave. "What does that little jerk want with me? Isn't she busy with her nice little EVIL club?" He briefly toyed with the idea of calling her back and getting into a nice screaming argument, then decided against it.
He tipped back in the chair a little further so he could catch the next message more clearly. Maybe it was Negaduck, describing in more graphic detail what he would do to QJ if he found him with Celeste. ::That's right, think nice dark thoughts. Wallow in self-pity. It'll make up for all those times you wanted to but wouldn't.:: He thought, morosely.
"Message three. Seven-fourteen-PM. Hey..Quacky...This is Cel. I hope you're ok..I miss you. Call me back when you can, ok?" Followed by a phone number and a smooching noise.
Quackerjack, completely stunned, lost his balance and fell to the ground with a noisy thump. He was still for a few minutes, seeing stars and feeling his heart pound."Ooh." he mumbled, feeling all of his previous injuries from the night add their complaints to his newest ones. He stood up, brushing himself off, and stared at the phone. He approached it warily, as though it might explode. Tentatively, he hit `replay' and listened to the message over. Then again, just in case he had been hallucinating. "She called me." he muttered, disbelieving. Then, louder, "She called
me!"
He stood up, pumped a fist to the sky in triumph. "Celeste likes me!!" he cried gleefully. He stopped and his face fell back to a frown. A small voice piped up.
"You don't like her?"
He shook his head violently. "No, no, it's not that, Mr. Banana Brain." He said feverishly, "Not that at all."
"Are you scared of Negaduck?" Mr. Banana Brain asked next.
"No. It isn't that either." Quackerjack muttered, feeling his heart drop, "You remember Princess?"
Mr. Banana Brain was quiet for a few minutes, then offered, "Yes."
"Well, that's why." Quackerjack said, in a tone that suggested that no more should be said about it.
Mr. Banana Brain took the hint and was silent. Quackerjack sat down at the desk again and groaned. "Why does this happen to me??" he asked, banging his head against the desk.
He glanced up. If she really did like him, she deserved to know the truth. At the worst, she wouldn't like him anymore. At the best, she might forgive him for not telling her sooner, and maybe they could be really good friends.even. boyfriend/girlfriend?
A determined look on his face, Quackerjack opened the door again and stepped outside. He hesitated just a second, remembering Negaduck's threat. Then he nodded to himself.
"No problem with that. Negs is probably busy with the rest of the Four."
With that in mind, he set off down the road, keeping a sharp lookout for Celeste.
* * *
Celeste sneezed again, rubbing at her sore beak with a tissue, one arm swinging at her side and the mending one held protectively near her chest. She glanced up at the blackish blue midnight sky with it's sparking diamond stars and for a second she could have SWORN she saw Quacky's image in the sky. She blushes and chuckled, shaking her head. Ok, so she was totally lost in this crush. She whistled to herself as she very nearly skipped along, stopping as she came to a large rain puddle, a childish urge dancing in her mind. She glanced up and down the street, then satisfied that she was not being watched she sprang forward and landing in the puddle with both feet, laughing as drops of rain splashed high into the air and drenched her. She
giggled and twirled on one foot like a ballerina, closing her eyes as the wind ran it's cool fingers through her hair. She felt more free and alive than ever before.
A ghost of a smile touched Quackerjack's beak as he watched from the shadows. She was so perfect. So pretty. Pedophile. The thought slipped into his mind, and was quickly banished.
"Heaven must be missing an angel." He quipped softly, stepping out of the darkness, "Because I think I found her."
"Q-quackerjack!" Celeste stammered, stopping so fast that she feet slide out from under her and she landed on her tailfeathers in the puddle, blushing brightly with embarassment. She got to her feet and wiped water off her as she smiled at him, curling a lock of hair around her finger. He had the most amazing smile....she sighed, her eyes gleaming with light and adoration. She stepped closer to him, lowering her gaze self conciously, "Thank you..um...what are you
doing out here? I was just coming to look for you..."
His eyes lit up in surprise. "I was coming to look for YOU, actually."He couldn't really take his eyes off her, and he flinched. ::Tell her now, or not at all.:: Commanded his mind. "Listen... Cel... You want to come with me, back to my hideout? Just to chat, I mean?" he added
hastily, lest she get the wrong idea. He couldn't have her as a friend until she knew the truth.
You..your place?" Celeste stammered, certain she'd heard wrong but her eyes lit up with a gleam of emmense pleasure, "I'd love to!" She beamed and slipped her hand into his, lacing her fingers with his as they walked along, her head resting on his shoulder. ~Wow, I've never gone back to a guy's place before...almost like I'm really his girlfriend! I wonder what is house is like..I beat it's colorful and cozy...and sweet like him..~ she thought, smiling as she snuggled
closer to him, her heart hammering in her chest from excitement. "So where do you live?" she asked conversationally, just wanting to hear his voice when he replied. The way he'd looked at her a moment ago sent chills of joys through her.
Quackerjack felt himself go slightly numb at the hug, at how she was acting. He was loved. Someone cared for him. For now, he allowed cautiously, for now. Nothing wrong with a little love between friends, but don't let this get further until she knows. It's only fair. He tentatively put an arm around her, gazing down with slightly moist eyes.
I hardly recognize you, you sap. A voice said in his mind. Whatever happened to the Quackerjack who was a loner and a loony, a hardened criminal? Well?! He grinned, acknowledging the voice with the briefest of nods. `He's gone, take a number.' He thought, inanely. He himself was at a loss to explain his behavior. Maybe Celeste brought out the best in him. Thoughts of Negaduck and consequences for his actions were way in the back of his mind. He was concentrating solely on the present.
"My hideout. ah. it's not too bad." he said, modestly, breaking the silence, "Nothing like the quality you're used to, I bet. But I do okay. For a crazy guy." He shut himself up, instantly aware that he was babbling. He did that from time to time, usually when he was
nervous.
`I should have brought her flowers.' He cursed himself inwardly. Then, `I thought this wasn't going that far?' Okay, fine. We'll wait, he promised his inner voice.
He stopped outside the Playhouse, deliberately taking the back entrance to avoid the altered sign, and bowed grandly, opening the door (Should've had it locked, he thought) and motioning her in.He stepped in after her, then shut the door. Didn't lock it. He didn't want her to feel threatened. He really didn't know whether to admire her for her bravery at wanting to venture into the abode of a crazy supervillain, or feel insulted that he obviously wasn't conveying enough fear to his audiences. It was a paradox of sorts, so he let it go. He sat down and watched her for a few seconds in silence. She's so pretty! Like a real angel. He thought, then screwed up his eyes and shook his head. No, no! That's certainly not fair on her."So.ah. can I get you anything?" he asked, fidgeting.
Celeste smiled absently, glancing around and running her hand over a brightly painted hobby horse as she smiled happily, feeling comfortable in his home," No, that's ok..."
"Oh!" she cried out suddenly in delight as she spotted Mr. Banana Brain and scooped him up. "He's so cute!!" She hugged the puppet , rubbing her cheek against him as she sat down by Quacky, "Oh sorry, I interrupted you...what was it you wanted to talk about?" she asked,
her hazel eyes sparkling, the banana puppet still propped up in her lap as if he were a real person.
She was the closest thing he'd ever seen to `poetry in motion,' and he was beginning to understand the obsession in Poe's `Annabelle Lee' story. Love really was a powerful thing.
Quackerjack couldn't help the wide smile that shot across his face when she noticed Mr. Banana Brain, and had such a positive reaction to it. His own psycho-ventriloquism techniques were taking a short absence ever since he had had the argument with the doll. That was
probably a good thing, since him unconsciously talking it might make her even more unsure about his current state of mind.
He opened his bill to speak, closed it. What could he say? How could he sit there and pour out his life story to her? She was too sweet for that. She was innocent. Like he was, once. He couldn't bear to be the miserable creature who changed that.There's that self pity again. His inner voice scolded. "I'm sorry." He said, aloud, looking at her pleadingly, hoping she
could understand, "It's just. I've never told another living soul about. what happened; to make me like this." He gestured to himself, then hung his head. Couldn't even think about it.
You see? He told himself, you can't even admit to yourself. Can't tell her, for sure."I wouldn't want to burden you. I'm sorry I made you come here. I just wasted your time."
He could hardly believe what he was saying. Here was one of the only people willing to reach out to him and show him love, and he was trying to push her away. What the hell was he doing?
He looked back at her for a moment, admiring her beauty, then walked over to the doorway morosely. His face was in shadows for a minute, and he hoped she couldn't see the single tear that dripped down his bill.
He was certain she couldn't like him. Couldn't possibly have affection for the monster that he was. All he could do was distress her, and that was the last thing in the world that he wanted.
He decided to say so. "All there is for you here is ruin. Please...just go home. Don't think about me anymore. I... I don't want to hurt you." He choked the sob, tried to back away from the room, and stumbled. He caught himself on the doorframe shakily, and added, "It's not you
that's the problem, it's me. I'm a freak."
Celeste blinked, the joy on her face faded to deep pain as she put the puppet aside and stood, moving over next to him and taking his hand,"Quacky..yer not a freak. And even if everyone said you were I wouldn't care. You couldn't ever hurt me..unless you just plain hated
me," she added with a weak smile, wiping his tear away and fighting back her own. Inside her heart was breaking that he wanted her to leave but she was determined to show him that she cared. "Look, nothing you could ever tell me would make me not care about you...you're the best friend I've ever had. If..if you really want me to leave because you just..don't like me.." she had to fight the tremble in her voice before she continued, "All you have to do is ask and I..I'll go, but don't do it if yer just trying to spare me from something because the worst thing that could ever happen to me..is losing you." she bit her lip and stared up at him lovingly, her eyes
glittering with unshead tears,still sqeeuzing his hand, "You wanted to tell me something, please do..please? I want you to trust me."
Quackerjack looked away. That one stupid tear was enough to break the dam, and he knew he was going to start sobbing in a minute. "You don't think so." He said, flatly. "I don't think that's the voice of experience speaking. I don't want to hurt you. I. I really do.love." his throat closed. He couldn't say it. "Suppose I told you I was a murderer?" he whispered hoarsly, "Suppose.suppose I told you I couldn't live with myself anymore? That that was why I gave it up?" a pause. That last, desperate attempt to make her recoil, and he sensed it hadn't worked. Then, he spoke, through Mr. Banana Brain's voice. The only way he could say it."I don't hate you. I love you."
Dead silence from his end. He'd said it. Practically signed his death warrant.
"I.don't want to lose you, either." He said, quietly. Before he knew what he was doing, he was hugging her hard. "I've always wanted a friend, but all I ever do is push them away or lie to them. That ends here. I won't lie any more. I'll tell you. But you've gotta swear that you'll keep it quiet."
Celeste hugged him back, her entire form trembling at his words. ~He loves me! He really does!~ She pulled back slightly even though all she wanted to do was hug him forever and crossed her heart, "I swear I'll never tell a soul as long as I live. I'd never betray you..I
love you, Quacky.." her tears slipped free and she wiped them away," And I'll always be your friend, always. Look, I'm Negaduck's protogee, you think I haven't seen people get killed? Like I said...nothing could make me turn away from you. You don't have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable but if you feel like you need to I'll listen, I won't ever speak of it again, and I won't judge you."
She smiled and nuzzled his cheek gently with her bill before sitting down to listen with an attentive look, folding her hands in her lap. She knew no matter what he said it wouldn't change one fact: That she loved him and he loved her. Her heart was beating so hard she wondered if it might burst into a million pieces as she sat and stared up at him.
Quackerjack stared at her, openmouthed. He had thought Celeste was just one of those people. one of them who would flinch from him, or make fun of him, as they had his whole life. But here she was doing just the opposite. He wondered if she knew precisely what she was getting herself into. You can tell her, then. I guess it's safe. After all, if you can't tell someone that sweet and devout, who *can* you tell? He thought with a small frown.
"So.you really do love me." he mused, aware he was speaking aloud. It was an unusual emotion; being loved, one that he hadn't felt for a very long time.He was turning her words over in his mind. She had promised not to judge him. "Funny, really, that I could get away with murdering my parents and my uncle, but the courtroom sends me to prison for petty theft." He
said, heavily, beginning the story.
He sat across from her, watched those pretty eyes with a devoted expression, and then nodded to himself. "It's sorta complicated, but I'll try to keep it brief. I know everybody who's ever met me has wondered why I'm like this. a psychological ruin, so to speak. You're the lucky first to hear the real reason why. Or maybe the `unlucky' first, depending on how you look at it."
He paused, considering his next words. "I guess it may come as a bigger shock to you than to most people: knowing that I deliberately killed my mother and father, and was indirectly responsible for my sister and uncle's deaths.. Seeing as how you never had a real family to call your own, you might think me a monster to destroy the one I had."
He sighed deeply. He hadn't revealed too much, yet. He could still call it off. But he knew he couldn't look at her without remembering that he had held back the truth from one of the precious few who cared about him.
"Let me give you some idea of how the house worked, first. There was me; the loner and outsider, even in his own family-the kid who brought home decent grades, along with stray cats and scripts for the school plays. Then there was my mom, a shrewish little woman who was
always telling me to follow my heart, but was shackled by the worst husband alive.a drunk, and an abusive one, too. She would go out late at night to parties, trying to find a different boyfriend. In all senses but the legal one, my parents were divorced. That little boyfriend fiasco resulted in the other dysfunctional member of our lovely little family. Amy, my baby sister...my very best friend, back then. You can imagine how my father took that."He looked down at the ground, suddenly finding it immensely interesting.
"I was only ten years old at the time.she was four. A fight started between my mom and dad, and Amy tried to stop them. He took that as insubordination and killed her. he denied doing it on purpose, but he hit her too hard for me to believe it was anything else. That very same day, I managed to steal a gun from a cop, and I shot my father, then my mother. She was witness to his murder, you see.and I had never really managed to get over the fact that she brought my sister into a world of pain and terror, and never did anything about it."He stopped, looked slightly confused, and then continued, "It's not too clear in my mind about what I did next--all a blur, really. I can remember managing to frame my father for killing my mother and sister, and then himself. I was sent to my uncle's house, who was practically oblivious to me. I was getting beaten up at school for being so emotionally off-kilter, so I joined a gang for protection, and soon became its leader. We were going to get into some fight or another--I can't remember what that was about, either, except that it was territorial. I refused to do it, and the gang took it as weakness. They said they'd kill my uncle and me if I didn't cooperate.I tried to stay home with my uncle more often. He may have been a little senile, but he was all I had left. Then came Airlia Ermine."
Quackerjack stopped again, and a dark shadow crossed his face."She wanted to show me her power. the ability to skip between dimensions like this one and the Negaverse.or Posiverse, depending. I knew I shouldn't, wasn't supposed to leave my uncle unguarded from the gangs. I did anyway. When I came back, my uncle was dead. I was all alone. Thirteen years old. I went to an orphanage. Shuttled between foster homes that couldn't deal with me cutting my wrists and back to the orphanage. Airlia didn't know about it, of course. She was too busy with her little club to care about the unusual kid who she'd shown off to...who she'd completely wrecked the life of."His sad face was suddenly transformed into one of fury. "I won't rest till I kill her, too."
A brief pause, and then he realized what he was doing. "I just admitted to you that I'm going to kill again.and I will, I won't be able to stop myself. How can you possibly love me after
that?" He put his head into his hands; his shoulders shook for a moment. He felt alone, afraid.the very personification of a child lost. "Either you're a very stupid fool, or the bravest goddess in the world." He muttered, head still down.
"I just don't want to hurt you, too. Everyone I've ever come into contact with is dead, insane, or just really, really lucky not to have been hurt or killed by me. I'd hate for that to happen to you."
He couldn't look up, but continued, "And I love you anyway. The most selfish thing I could ever do."
Celeste listened without flinching once. She was no stranger to death and probably far less innocent than he thought. At his comment about her being a fool or brave she chuckled softly,"I'm probably a little of both, but since you've told me so much, I think I owe you the
same," She paused, hesitating because Negaduck was the only person who knew this besides her, then hugged her knees against her chest and went on," I was born into a very rich family in the Negaverse. Most of this I don't really remember since I was only 2 when my
parents ditched me but I picked up bits from the teasing the other kids gave me at the orphanage. My mother was a very vain woman who straved herself the entire pregnancy so she wouldn't lose an inch of her figure. After I was born I was passed off to nannies and she went
back to her social circle. My father never gave me a second glance, you see, he wanted a son, an heir, but I was just a disappointment so they hid me away and no one ever knew they had a child except for the rumours ofcourse and a few of my mom's closest friends..I was kinda a conversational piece you could say."
"When I was 2 they finally grew tired of dealing with me at all, I was too much of a risk of being discovered and I was noisy and broke things so one night they found a deserted street when it was raining and dropped me in a gutter, then drove off. I guess they thought a little thing like me would die from expossure but someone found me and took me to the orphange. I grew up there until I was eight and every other day the kids beat me up and I was sent to my room without dinner for "rabble-rousing". So finally ran away."
"I'd been walking for hours and I found a motorcycle and curled up in the sidecar...ofcourse it was Negaduck's, lord of the Negaverse. Anyway one thing lead to another and he ended up keeping me around...until one day when I was eleven we got into an arguement and he left..I thought it was my fault but I found out years later he'd been cut off by the portal between this world and that. Anyway, in the mean time I learned to fend for myself. I became a crack-shot, a
theif and spy after the Friendly Four...yours and the Four's Nega- counterparts, took over."
"Later on I ended up here and met up with dad again..things were great for a while...but he got caught a while back before I turned fourteen and they were gonna give him the death
sentence...long story but..I broke in through the airvents and shot three guards. Killed them..I haven't touched a gun since." She swallowed hard and looked up at him, "Maybe if I'd had the chance I'd have killed my real parents too..I know I thought about it all those years ago...so we're really not that different." If he hated her for anything he would for the words she was about to say but she knew she had to get them out,"I don't think killing this person will help..I
think it'll make things worse...but if it means that much to you, I..I'll help..I want you to be happy..because I truely, deeply love you," she swallowed hard and looked into his eyes.
Quackerjack listened with a growing sense of wonder. He'd suspected that there was something dark behind her past, but he'd never dreamed.so much, for one so young. Perhaps she wasn't as innocent as he'd originally assumed. It was a marvel that she still held a glimmer of
happiness.He swallowed, for once at a loss for words. Around them were brightly colored toys, objects, it seemed, from another life. They had no place within this dark future that the two of them had woven from their somber pasts.
The silence stretched on between them, and he felt it was his place to say something. He really felt like offering to kill her real parents himself, but after what she had said. it didn't seem
appropriate. "I.ah. I'm sorry.about your parents." He said, weakly. Did violence really solve anything? Apparently he had thought it did, those many years ago. He was still using it as his crutch, even now. For how long had he used the bodies of others as stepping stones? As
long as I can remember. he thought, miserably. `We're really not that different.' Those words seemed to etch their way permanently into his mind.
"I don't want you to help me kill her." He said, "I want to do it myself." His eyes were alight with that familiar sadistic gleam. "Maybe you don't think it would help. I doubt that. But if you don't want me to. then I won't touch her. I swear it." He alarmed himself at how easily the promise was made to someone he had met that very day, against a person he had wanted to kill for years.
He was still latched onto her earlier words, shocked but not repulsed that Celeste had killed, when that mischievous voice in the back of his head whispered, reminding him of her final sentence. His shoulders slumped as he faced a different kind of defeat. She loved him, even after he had told her everything. He hadn't planned that, but he had hardly planned her being so.sad.so alone, either. He could never abandon her, even if he had detested her to no end. As it was. he did love her. More than anything in the world.But now he didn't know what to do. Long term planning wasn't his specialty, and there was the added difficulty of her unwavering loyalty. She was amazing. One of the only people he'd ever met who could make Negaduck do anything he didn't want to... and he suspected she could exert the same power over him.
"I don't believe I've ever really met another girl quite like you." he said, slowly, "And you know your dad would kill me quite inhumanly if he ever found out."But she wants to make me happy. He thought. Nobody's ever wanted that for me before. and she knows what I am. The feeling inside him was one of completeness, for a few bright minutes. He'd told her his secrets, she'd told him hers, and neither one was ready to end the friendship. "I guess now that we're so close. you can just call me Jack." He said, quietly.
"I want you to do what you think is right," she responded evenly to his comment about killing the other girl, even though she had admittedly felt a sharp twinge of jealousy thinking about her. It sounded weird coming from her, a villianess in training, to speak of rightness, especially to a super villain. A slight smile graced her beak,"My dad may be a lot of things but if they're anything I've learned it's that he talks big, but he rarely acts on it. Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him," she added with a mischevious look, snuggling closer to him and nuzzling her beak against his neck.
Quackerjack saw the look of jealousy, interpreted it correctly, and went about fixing the misunderstanding. "There wasn't anything between us." he murmured, drawing her close, "Ever."
Jack nodded wistfully. "No, I don't suppose it would be right to kill her." He admitted, "But even if it was, I wouldn't do it, because I can tell it's not what you want me to do."
He nearly melted when she started nuzzling him. He managed to save face by drawing her into a tight hug and kissing her hair. "Nobody's ever done this.been so nice to me before." he whispered, reluctant to break the silence, "I owe you quite a lot. but right now I'm just glad you're here. I think we could do anything right now."
She shivered slightly and smiled as he held her "I think we could too, Jack.." She smiled, stroking his cheek and kissed him lightly on the beak. Her father would probably kill HER at this point for being so rebelous and purposely persuing one of his team but she really didn't care. All that mattered was this moment and this kiss.She curled her arms around his shoulders and held him close until the clock chimed 11 PM.
"Dang," she muttered, pulling back with a sigh," I guess I better be getting back...my dad'll throw a fit." She didn't mention that she'd glady have stayed with him forever though it was plain in her eyes as she stood up.
Quackerjack couldn't help the brief spasm of pain that shot across his face. He would do anything to stay with her, just basking in the reflection from her glory.
`So walk her home.' Mr. Banana Brain suggested suddenly.
"You shut up! I'm not talking to you, stupid." Quackerjack said, fiercely. Then he glanced down at Celeste. "I think I should walk you home, at least to the street... It's dangerous outside, with so many lunatics out there." He offered his hand. "Unless you don't want me to.?"
Celeste raised an eyebrow. Why was he yelling at the puppet? Oh well, must be a guy thing, she thought as she shrugged it off and returned took his hand, smiling. "I love it."
* * * And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am I just want you to know who I am I just want you to know who I am I just want you to know who I am
