Sympathy From The Devil
By: Tinque Abelle
Author's Note: Alas, the end. I had trouble writing this one because writer's block is really getting to me now. My writing juices are no more. I have to be refueled ... by ... something. And once again, thanks for your patience and time and reviews. ;) Each of you have compelled me to finish this fanfic. This would be my SECOND completed multi-chaptered piece of writing. Yeah. Pretty sad. But I finished and that's good. Very good. Enjoy, loves.
Disclaimer: Again, all belongs to Almighty Thinnest Jhonen Vasquez 'cept Jez, whom is mine, and I do not write this for profit.
Chapter 6
Squee nearly fainted, running into his father when he arrived back home. His father stood over him, scowling at his son, and holding a stack of his wife's fashion magazines and his jingling car keys in the other hand.
"Where're you going?"
"I'm going to the mental institution to drop these off for your mother. "
"Can I come?"
He glared at him and then cringed. "Fine. Get in the car."
Quickly, Squee retrieved the bag that he left beside the front door before his father closed it, almost clamping onto his arm. On the way there, Squee noticed in the mirror that his father was constantly glancing at him, his face distorted in disgust. He was quite used to be looked upon with contempt but not like this. His father's grimace made Squee so nervous that he decided to observe the passing scenery instead. No moon or stars tonight. Instead, he had to watch old, decrepit buildings, scattered litter, and wandering hobos plodding alongside the street. With a twinge of worry in his gut, Squee silently prayed that his mother was alright ...
...
On the outside, the building looked very sanitary and peaceful but Squee knew better. A glum-faced lady appointed Squee and his father to their destination and they strolled down the halls, looking for the correct room. Biting his lip, he glanced into each of the open rooms they passed. Some people were beating up their pillows, some people were smiling, staring at the ceiling as they spun around, some people gnawed on the beds in a rabid, squirrel-like manner. He shuddered when they passed through the cafeteria, seeing the bowls of chunky stew on the tables. Try the stew ... eez deelishus ... He cringed as he remembered his crazy neighbor-man, Nny, hissed these words through the window one night. Some people stared at the food, crying or jeering at it. Those were the anorexics. Their sickly, bony bodies gave him countless nightmares. One girl had killed herself after being forced to eat. Even though he didn't know her, that event made him cry for weeks.
As they continued walking, Squee waved nervously at a recognized face: his doctor, Mr. Canby, who took care of him during his stay here. "Hi, Todd!" he greeted, with a zealous smile. "How do you like sanity so far?"
Squee did not answer but just continued walking down the hall, annoyed. Finally, they reached the room and went inside; Squee's eyes widened, seeing his mother heavily strapped down to a bed with all sorts of medical monstrosities surrounding her. She was staring directly into the ill-colored light above her head, not seeming to notice anyone came in. Up and down her arms were a plethora of red gashes and scratches. "Mom?" He stepped up to her. "Mom?"
He twitched in disturbance at her dead expression as she gradually turned to face him, her face tainted by little red cuts. "Squee?" she asked in a nearly inaudible voice.
His heart skipped; this was one of the only times she had ever remembered his name. "Mom, a-are you okay?"
"How can I be?"
Squee swallowed the lump in his throat.
"How can I be when you're here?" She averted her gaze to stare into the light again, continuing her slow, monotonous tone of voice. "You just don't understand, Squee. You just don't understand how miserable life's been ever since you were born. I have always wanted to become a designer ... some sort of famous designer ... instead, I am trapped in the same old house everyday with nothing to do, having to raise a child I've never planned on having with a husband who hates me. My pills were my only friends and they don't even work anymore. Why do they keep me here if I have no reason to live?" Feebly, she tried to budge but the restraints were too tight. "My mother told me not to get an abortion; God, how I wish I didn't listen to her." She looked at Squee again. "Why can't you just disappear, Squee? Just please go away ..."
Tears blurred the image of his mother. Squee faced a different direction, not knowing whether to feel sympathy for his mother's pain or to feel angered by her words. Nonetheless, he felt wounded, although his parents have been saying this sort of stuff since he was a toddler. How he wished to be safe in the comfort of Pepito's arms ...
He licked a tear as it rolled down onto his lip and looked over at his father, who was still wearing the disgusted face he had in the car.
...
"What's wrong, Dad?" he finally asked as they returned home. His eyes were burning red from crying throughout the journey.
His father stepped through the doorway but gestured Squee to stop from entering the house. "No fags will be living under my roof."
Squee's eyes flung open and he nearly dropped his bag.
"Oh, I know about you and your little friend, Squee. You and you friend, what's-his-name ..."
"P-P-Pepito?"
"Yeah, him. I saw him kissing you on the cheek on the porch today. Fucking disgusting. Then you two held hands."
Beads of sweat dripped down his face. He couldn't find a way out of this one ...
"Are you a faggot?"
The tears came back, stinging harder than ever. "Dad, I--"
"I can't believe you're a fucking fag! Of all the sick, disgusting things -- that's not the way we raised you. I forbid you to see him again!"
"Raised me?! You've sent me to bed starving, you've dumped me off at a mental institute, you don't even remember I exist sometimes! And there is no way you can stop me from seeing him again."
"Well, if it's so bad here, fucking LEAVE already, you faggot!"
"Fine, I will! I've never liked living here, anyway!" He walked away, hearing the door slam behind him. Sighing, he noticed that the moon was finally beginning to shine. He could not believe he had done what he had just done. Inside, he felt like a bird that had finally been freed out of its cage, but still, there was an overwhelming pang of guilt ...
...
Pepito sat on the peak of a sky-scraping mountain of skulls, looking down upon the filthy, crowded streets of hell. People ceaselessly running about, driven by a savage crave to attain the hottest clothes or cars or accessory to maintain their social status. Some were carelessly beating others and rapes were not uncommon on the streets. Here, there was no law. People only strove to be "cool", whatever that was. If you were not capable to keep up with the rest of the people, you were forever ridiculed, trapped in your personal hell, trapped in ceaseless desire. Latest fashions changed so quickly that most of the clothing were worn only once, if worn at all. Everyone felt the need to look good. After all, the Eye was watching them. Pepito looked up at the gleaming eye in the sky. This was hell.
Pepito laughed a bit as he saw a girl smashing her face against a wall, screaming about her new contact lenses. He shook his head. "Will they ever learn?" He looked over to a gigantic building and noticed a dark-skinned girl in raggedy overalls cleaning the large windows agitatedly high on a raised platform. Chuckling a bit, Pepito vanished in a flurry of flame and reappeared beside her, scaring her half to death. She stood, clutching her chest, wide-eyed at him, who was howling with laughter.
"Pepito! What are you doing here?!"
"Well, I practically run this place. What are you doing here?" He looked over the edge of the platform and watched cars and people scurrying below like ants.
""Your father's making me clean up the city and look what he's made me wear! Overalls! Who wears overalls?!" She growled in frustration and continued to clean he windows, trying to exterminate a smudge. "I'm going to lose my friends if they see me in these clothes!"
"Well, you shouldn't have left, Jez," Pepito said, sitting down and continuing to view the sights under his dangling feet.
"Oh, it wouldn't have made any difference anyway. It feels like I'm always in hell, no matter where I go. Ugh." A silent hesitation as Jez finished wiping the glass. Sighing, Jez wiped the sweat of her brow and glanced over to Pepito. "So, how're you and loverboy?"
Not tearing his eyes away from the bustle of the city, he softly smiled as he remembered his day with Squee and the warmth of his flesh against his. Jez pulled on the ropes that supported the platform, lowering it down gradually.
"Ah, so you finally nailed him, hm?" She asked, noticing the enthralled smile on his face.
Pepito twitched. "Well, I wouldn't use the term 'nailed'; I told you, this is different. It's ... erm ... you know the word ..."
"Erm ... hold on, I know it ... love, right?"
"Yeah, erm ... love." He chuckled nervously.
They slowly sank back down to the city. "I envy you," Jez finally confessed. "I'll never be able to know what it's like."
Pepito widened his eyes, imagining what it would be like to be incapable of experiencing what he felt with Squee. When the platform finally reached the ground, both of them removed themselves from it and started heading down the street. Jez wiped her forehead with her sleeve again and sighed, partially out of exhaustion and partially from noticing the dismayed looks she seemed to be attracting from various passerbys. She grunted. "Damn overalls. Okay, now I have to go to the mall and ... clean up."
"You know ... maybe you could take a little break or something."
"A break? Your father'd kill me."
"Well, I'm giving you permission ... I run this place too, you know. Erm. Sort of. Well, he'll understand. Now ... go ... get a bagel or something."
Staring at him with glassy eyes, Jez beamed. "Thank you, thank you ,thank you!"
Pepito shrugged and stifled a smile. "Be back at the mall, though, in an hour lest you want to suffer consequences. Horrible consequences." He watched her disappear into the crowded streets and spun around to wander the opposite direction but gasped, finding his father towering over him.
"I saw that," he said in a stoic tone. "You know you are not permitted to dismiss the eternally damned. "
Eyelid twitching, Pepito continued walking down the street, heading towards the mountain of skulls he was previously nestled upon with his hands in the pockets of his black trenchcoat and his eyes to his feet. He could hear his father following behind him.
"Pepito ... I apologize for my ... continuous absence. I mean it. It pains me to imagine you and your mother at the dinner table without me. And although I am still preoccupied with my work now, I want you to know that I haven't forgotten you. I still remember that we still have a world to demolish on your eighteenth birthday!" He smiled but still had a solemn look in his eyes.
"Well ... it would be pleasant if you were around more but I suppose your apology will suffice." He smirked and gave his father the first genuine embrace he had ever given him in years.
"So ... who is this 'loverboy' whom Jez was speaking of?"
Pepito flinched and looked away shyly.
"Is it that mortal friend of yours? Squee?"
"Y-yeah ..." Tensely, Pepito scratched his head and continued looked away at random stores.
"You know, without your mother, I would have never become the successful lord of the underworld as I am now. Most would expect the Prince of Darkness not to be capable of falling in love but it happens. Impossible to avoid, you know."
"You're okay with this?"
"Of course! And just think of the irony when the world realized they've been doomed by a homosexual demon!" He grinned. "People always believe homosexuality is something I created. I only created lust for those pathetic mortals. I could not care less about their actual love lives." Suddenly, his dark, menacing form morphed into a busty cheerleader with a wide, cheery smile on her face, waving around yellow pompoms. "So, like, go for it, Pepito!"
Pepito flinched in repulsion. "Must you do that, Father?"
The sound of a doorbell echoed through the sky. "Who could it be at this hour?" The two vanished in a flicker of a flame, singeing some of the bystanders and reappeared in their picturesque living room. Opening the door, Pepito found Squee standing on his porch, holding a bag and straining a smile with glassy eyes.
...
"... although the two were from completely different worlds, they were bound by destiny and lived happily ever after."
"See? That wasn't so bad," Pepito said, running his fingers through Squee's hair. "Your story was beautiful."
Smiling, Squee stared at the sunrise before their eyes. They sat on the crown of an escalated hill with their backs against a "No parking" sign under a scrawny, barren tree and watched the twinkling lights of the city below. The height did not strike fear into him for once; he felt an unusual ecstasy, being up here with Pepito by his side. As he unzipped his bag to put away his notebook, his tattered old teddy bear fell out onto the ground and hit Pepito's boot.
"Why do you carry that around?" the imp asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh ..." Squee's cheek reddened. "Erm ... that's Shmee. Old friend of mine."
"Yeah, but why do you carry him around now? Aren't you a little old for that?"
"This is going to sound insane but I think he talks to me. He's been my only friend, besides you, of course, throughout my life, really ..." He chuckled apprehensively, hoping this would not sound too crazy and drive Pepito away.
"How peculiar ... we usually keep records of the objects we possess." He shrugged. "Oh well ..."
A familiar tickle slithered down his spine as he felt Pepito clutching his hand.
"So I guess you're staying with us now, huh?"
"Yeah. Dad threw me out of the house. You wanna come with me later while I drop off a letter to my mom at the mental institute?"
"Sure, but I don't know why you're going to do that, after what she said to you."
"Well, she's still my mother, Pepito."
"What about your father?" Squee stared at the sunset and sighed, saying nothing. "Why don't we drop by your house and make out on his lawn or something?" Pepito snickered. Watching Squee laugh, he smiled and shifted up to him, lying his head on his shoulder. "Te amo, amigo."
Stroking the imp's shoulder, Squee kissed his forehead gently. "I love you too."
"But if we ever get married, you're going in the dress."