If Only I Could Dream

A/N: Goddamn.... Feel the love...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 11: Breaking the Habit

---

"Johnny...why did you kill me? You created me; you made me what I was. And then you slaughtered me, Johnny...how could you, you stupid, filthy creature!?"

Johnny C. lifted his head up from he ground where he lay. He couldn't remember lying down. H couldn't remember being so tired; he must have fallen asleep again. Fallen asleep inside his own mind. He could tell it was his own, because the world around him was still so dark, littered with a sort of fog swirling around him.

Well, that, and the strange voice coming closer and closer. The voice of someone he knew was dead.

He stood up, wiping drool from the side of his mouth that had escaped while he slept. Eyes scanning the darkness, he could feel a presence. But barely. "I killed you," he whispered.

"Yes," the voice snapped. You killed me, or what you could see as my body. Before you knew what was truly going on; you know, when you first got back, I was nothing more than a silly voice you shrugged off. I've regressed back to that. And I'm dying. Oh yes, you've killed me, Johnny C. But I'm not all that dead."

Johnny shrugged. "You will be soon enough. I won't, remember? I gutted you and tore you in half. Quite a sight. I can only hope that you remember...?"

"Oh yes, I remember," JOHNNY sneered from the darkness. "Its an all too clear memory that will die with me. Just as your memory of me will die, and Squee's memory of you will die. His memories of everything in his childhood will die."

"You're lying."

"No," JOHNNY answered, sounding quite excited and amused. It's already begun, you know. It started the moment you left, and just before you returned, it became bigger. He's been hearing voices, you know? Mr. Eff. Psycho Doughboy. The voices of the dead inside your house. They talk to him. They call to him. He can't make them go away, and neither can you, Nny."

"No....you fucking, lying bastard..." Johnny growled menacingly.

"Shmee won't be able to protect him for very long. Its starting all over again. The same way it started with you. He's going to be just like you. And nothing can stop it!!"

Johnny stiffened, suddenly unleashing his anger unto the darkness around. "NO!! YOU LIE! HE'S GOING TO BE OKAY! HE'S GOING TO GROW UP HAPPY AND NORMAL!!!!"

"Nooooo....." the voice droned on. "He's lost. You both are. And so is Devi. You spread your disease to her a while back, but she fought and won...too bad though. You spread it to her again. Stronger this time, and she's not immune like some of the voices thought. She's sick again, Nny. Her and Squee. You've killed them, just as you've killed me....but they will be made to suffer."

Johnny shifted slightly.

"And you will not be there to see it..."

He said nothing, eyes closed tightly, not wanting to hear the things this monster spoke of. He wanted to disappear.

"You hurt me, Johnny." JOHNNY whispered, the voice sending shivers up the other man's spine. "But I can hurt you back. I may only have little more than five minutes before the life spills out of what I have left, but I will use this time for me."

"Open your eyes," JOHNNY cooed softly, mocking his other self. "See the imminent future that will be, the pain that others will suffer, the things that will be, regardless of your pitiful efforts. Now, you will relive the pain of your existence. Everything you have done, the good eaten away by the evil."

"Watch..." it whispered.

The memories hurt to look at. But they were there, flashing before him, like a deranged movie he was being forced to watch. And every second hurt. Every flash blinded him. Every ounce of it made him completely sick to his stomach. Literally, sick.

Johnny vomited, not at all sure what he had in his stomach to come up. But the sickness didn't go away, and the images didn't turn off.

So he...floated...or was he lying down? He wasn't even sure anymore. He wasn't sure of anything except that what was happening hurt. The blood running through his veins burned with unbelievable intensity and his head was screaming with voice after voice, and the images continued to burn through his mind like some out-of-control fire.

"Johnny, you stupid fuck. You were always screwing things up. Always a screw up. Why not put the torture to rest and kill yourself? Do it, you dumb fuck!!" came Psycho Doughboy's voice.

"You've let so many opportunities get away, my boy," Mr. Fuck joined in. "Go retrieve them! Make your life whole again with the joy you could never grasp!"

"There's no such thing as a perfectly rational, internal conversation, Nny. Not with you. So don't listen to either of them!"

"Nailbunny..." Johnny whispered, his throat burning when he spoke.

"Johnny, we could have made great things! Why?! Why...? I loved you...." another voice replied. Johnny quickly identified him as Jimmy and vomited again, the puke disappearing almost as soon as it all left his body.

Blood began to pool out from his mouth and his ears, and from the sockets of his eyes as well, flooding down his face. Eyes wide in shock, he stared at his now bloodstained hands. The blood was seeping from his fingertips.

"Do you want to know how it all started, Nny? What you were like before the madness reigned supreme in your pathetic life?" the voices replied all at once, together, creating a hideous new tone. "You were such a strange boy way back then... when the voices started, you didn't know what to do, so you didn't fight back. You let them take you. And then, there was that doll....it helped you forgot. It MADE you forget. It turned you into what you are now. And you are an extension of us."

"Stop..." Johnny whimpered, trying to block out the throbbing. "I don't want to remember what isn't real..."

"It was real, Johnny. It is real. What you did to those people...That's real. You did that before anything in your mind had been fully corrupt. That was all you. And Squee. Squee's next in line. "

"No...you lie...Why-why do I keep bleeding...? Whuh-what do you want fru-from m-me......?"

"We want to escape you, Johnny. We'll kill you to escape...That was the plan from the start. JOHNNY was supposed to kill you so that we could leave, but he failed. All of us. He failed all of us. You're so sick. Face it, Johnny. You're sick. We only want to do what's best for you..."

"Stop it!! Stop it! Just leave me alone!!" he screamed, throwing his head back and grabbing at it with his hands. "Go away!!" The pain worsened, in his veins, in his head, in his stomach. All over. It intensified, driving him madder and he shrieked.

"Johnny..."

"Get away! I don't want to hear it! I don't want to listen!!"

"Johnny..."

"No, please!! Let me fucking die already!!"

"Johnny."

---

Light.

For the first time in what had seemed like forever, he could see light. His narrowed his eyes, trying to take it in slowly so that it wouldn't blind him all at once, barely able to make out the shadows.

All that time he'd spent in the dark, inside his head, locked away where he was to be attacked. What had those voices been? Of course, he knew they were his figments. The ones he had locked away and others he had never known were there. Strange, it seemed that some had taken the voices of people who had actually existed. Jimmy, for one, was most certainly not living inside his head.

Was he?

Johnny shuddered absently. The thought was just too sickening for words.

"I think he's finally waking up."

That voice. It was so familiar. So dark and mysterious. So sadistic. It could only be the voice of one creature.

Forgetting the blinding light, his eyes snapped opened, revealing only more shapes and shadows. It took a moment for everything to come into focus, but when it did, Johnny was a little less than surprised to see who the owner of such an odd voice actually was.

"Good morning, Johnny C." Senor Diablo replied, his twisted smile suddenly becoming much more twisted. "You've been out for quite a while. And you vomited all over yourself. Twice. Lucky we had a few spare blankets, I suppose."

Johnny's pupils contracted, becoming almost invisible in his large eyes. He felt so incoherent. "I...I....where am I? What happened? And what exactly are you doing here?"

Senor Diablo chuckled as someone moved passed him towards Johnny. A lovely young woman with puffy blonde hair dabbed at Johnny's forehead with a wonderful warm, moist washcloth. Johnny raised an eyebrow at her, but she only returned a smile.

"So full of questions, aren't we?" the Devil replied. "Oh yes, Johnny, I would like you to meet my darling wife."

"Wife?"

"Why yes. Even the Devil has every opportunity for a normal married life," Diablo answered lazily. "You're in our house, not far from yours."

Johnny sat up, with the Diablo's wife still dabbing at his forehead. He had half a mind to shoo her away, but since she was the Devil's wife, that could put him in a bit of a hazardous position. So he refrained, but allowed his annoyance to be shown. "But...how did I get here? And where's Squee...and Devi....?"

"Squee's upstairs, playing with my son, Pepito. The girl left last night, once she decided that we would take good care of the child and you, of course. One would think that she is still quite taken with you, attempted murder or not," Senor Diablo replied, watching pleasurably as Johnny shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You see, me and my son were heading over to the Casils' to see how the young boy Todd was doing, and if he would have liked to accompany us for dinner at..." the Devil shuddered, "MacMeaties... When we got to the house, however, we found you three. You were lying on the ground unconscious, Todd was sitting next to you, practically crying, and the girl appeared to be trying to talk some sense into the child. We tossed your would-be carcass into the car, and yadda yadda yadda, now you're here."

Johnny fidgeted with his fingers. "Did Devi seem....worried about me....?"

Diablo's smile disappeared. "Come now, Johnny. You know as well as I do that you've pretty much ruined your chances of getting together with any girl, let alone Devi D."

"I thought so," Johnny sighed. "She deserves better anyway...someone who doesn't kill people and hear voices and such."

"Speaking of which, how are those pesky figments? I hear, they tried to kill you."

Johnny's head snapped upwards to look at the Devil. "What do you know about that? I was in too much pain to really ask questions, but from what I gathered while I was unconscious is that they just used the other....JOHNNY person to kill me off so that they could get out of my head."

Diablo sat down next to him, "that would be the extent of it, but they don't seem to realize that probably would've disappeared the moment you were eaten by your other self, since it is you who've created them, not him. But JOHNNY was going to try to kill you regardless of any voices. So just disregard their speech completely."

Johnny shrugged. I see Squee now?"

"Why, certainly," Diablo answered. "Dear, why don't you finish those delightful worm cookies you love to bake so very much while I escort our visitor upstairs?" His wife nodded, still smiling and began to head back towards the kitchen.

Johnny stood up and the two started for the stairs. On the walls were pictures of the family one would swear was absolutely normal. But the Devil in front of him proved otherwise. They looked so happy though, a loving mother, a hard-working father, and a tiny son. Despite what these two beings truly were -demons-, they actually looked happy.

This must be what Squee wants... Johnny's thoughts shifted. He always just wanted someone to love him...but then those people...those sick people..."

They reached a rather large room at the end of the hall, where the door was open wide, and two small voices could be heard. Johnny peered in, careful not to make a sound.

"So, Squee," Pepito murmured, watching as the other boy rolled a makeshift toy across the floor. "What are you going to do now that your parents are...?"

Squee didn't look up from the floor as tears began to swell up in his eyes. He tried to blink them back, but one escaped and fell against the floor. "I dunno," his voice was shaky. "I'll probably haveta go live with my grandpa....I really don't want to. He's- he's crazy and stuff, and he tried to kill me one time. I don't really have any place to go."

"Maybe this is better for you," the Antichrist replied, his attitude somewhat fazed by Squee's pain. He wasn't nearly as creepy as he normally was, and his eyes were free of any malice or hate he was capable of conjuring up. "I mean, your parents....that Johnny person downstairs seems like he would make a much better parent than them..."

Squee nodded slightly, too upset to disagree with that one. It was probably true anyway. "Yeah, I guess. But I don't think Mr. Johnny would want to take care of me. He's got his own problems and stuff. Besides, I loved my parents...even if they didn't like me sometimes..."

Sadness drifted out from the room like perfume on a group of prepubescent prep girls. It filled Johnny's nostrils, seeping into his brain, and attacked his insides with such ferocity, that he almost doubled over in pain. He thought, that for a moment, there was a strange liquid substance at the corner of his eye, not unfamiliar, but strange nonetheless. He blinked this thought away, and turned his attention back to Squee.

It felt so weird. To have such strong feelings for some other human being. The first soul who had been actually free of inner hatred and the absence of the need to inflict pain on others. He felt his own need to preserve that in the boy for as long as possible, for who knew when it would be consumed by outside forces.

Johnny turned back to the Devil, who wore the expression of knowingness upon his features. "Mr. Satan, I have a...a favor to ask of you..." he whispered, so as not to be heard by the children.

"I have already sent a few of Hell's finest demons to repair the bodies. Once the pieces are put back together, I will allow for those horrible souls to return to their primitive lifestyle," Senor Diablo replied, ignoring the shocked expression on Johnny's face.

"How did you..?"

Satan snickered. "I'm the Devil, Johnny. I'm supposed to know these things. Anyhow, Young Todd may return to his parental units shortly. Normally I would not allow for such things to happen, but none of this was supposed to occur. You splitting your mind up, trying to kill Todd, him hearing voices from your ex-figments: MOST of that was not supposed to happen."

"Wait, what was that last part-?"

The Devil cut him off slyly. "Nor to worry. However, as payment for my taking you in against my moral judgment, I expect to see a lot more of your work heading down into the basement of my lovely home."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Um...yeah, sure," he answered, not quite sure what exactly the creature was talking about, so he ignored it and started for the bedroom. It was not a second later that he had quickly run back out, pressed up against the wall where he had just stood.

The Devil stared at him, amused no doubt, and ask calmly, "Whatever are you doing back out here, Johnny? Squee is located in THAT room." He pointed, smiling in his own evil way. "As I recall, you wanted to see him. Changed your mind?"

Johnny shook his head, fitfully. "No, I- I can't do it. I mean, I've made all of these attempts on his life. I almost killed him countless times; I could've..." he gulped something down, "slaughtered him... How can anyone expect me to go in there and confront someone so innocent that I myself tried to annihilate? Really?"

"I suppose you could just...LEAVE. Without any goodbyes and kisses and hugs and all that sort of meaningless nonsense," the Devil suggested, seemingly uninterested. "I mean, he is but a child, and you are a dreadful, homicidal presence in his life, scaring him to the point of pissing his own pants."

Johnny said nothing, but turned his gaze to the floor.

"Then again, you have actually saved him on countless occasions. You could say that you're his," the Devil chuckle, quite amused at this thought, "guardian angel. That may be the only good deed you've accomplished in your pathetic life."

Johnny glared, but any homicidal thoughts of 'killing' the Devil dispersed as he glanced back into the bedroom. "I'm hardly a guardian angel," he answered softly, "but I guess I did save him, like that time at the mall. If I could just save him from his parents and that fucking bear, he'd be set for the rest of his life."

"Well, make a decision soon, you pest. If you're not going to take him home, then I can tell my darling wife to set an extra place at the table for dinner for the boy, and you can wander off, alone," Satan was getting impatient.

Johnny's eyes narrowed significantly. "And here, I thought maybe you were being nice. I wish I would've known it was all just to get me out your sight." He stared back into the bedroom, and with a sigh, ventured in for the second time.

"You know, you could always stay with us," he could hear Pepito say. "I'm sure Father wouldn't mind, and Mother just adores you, you know."

Squee smiled to this; it was always nice to know that someone cared, even if they were demon-spawn. "Maybe..." he replied, quietly. "Maybe..."

Johnny took a deep breath, and sat down on the floor, next to his small neighbor. Damn, it felt so weird. This...caring about someone...it didn't feel like what he felt about Devi. That was LOVE love. This was like...brotherly love...or something. God...he actually cared. A shudder trailed a path up his spine, and good bumps littered his skin, invisible to the world beneath his ragged clothes.

"What are you doing?" he heard himself ask shakily.

Squee looked up, his saddened eyes suddenly sparkling with happiness. However, he only gave a small smile. "Just playing with some of Pepito's toys." He gestured towards his only real friend, but the devil had already left the room, much to Squee's surprise.

"The Devil's son is your friend?" Johnny asked, not even realizing he'd done so. He wondered at that moment if the child knew that Pepito's dad was the Devil, and ultimately wished he 'd kept his mouth shut.

Fortunately, Squee didn't seem at all fazed by the question. "Yeah. He stands up for me in school sometimes, when the other kids pick on me and stuff."

They were silent for a while, maybe five minutes or so; but it wasn't awkward or long. It was more the type of silence between two friends on a summer afternoon, just enjoying each other's company. Johnny could hear talking downstairs, between Satan and his son, more than likely about Squee and his parents. Perhaps the evil little family would take him in. At least he'd be loved.

He looked off towards the door, trying to listen in on what they were saying. It proved useless, as the Devil suddenly growled from his place down the steps, "Do mind your own business, Johnny. I'd hate to tear the ears from your enormous, empty head. " Johnny tore his focus away, indignantly, and found that his young friend was staring at him with those large eyes of his.

"Can we go home now?"

Johnny twitched slightly. He didn't think Squee would want to leave, since the boy probably didn't know about this awful parents son return to life. He decided not to ruin the surprise.

"But, you're parents...they're dead." He never had such a hard time saying the word as he did now. "When people die, they don't come back, Squeegee."

Squee smiled slightly, tears streaming down his face, his body choking with sobs. He didn't want to show that he was truly sad about it all to someone like Johnny. "I don't want to stay here. Can I stay with you until the bodies are gone?"

Johnny was taken aback. It was a question he'd never thought he'd hear. Unsure of what to do, he nodded dumbly. It would only be for a little while, as the parents would return soon, back to their miserable lives.

"You would want to?" he queried, slowly. "I was always under the impression that you wanted to avoid both me and my abode. What with all the screaming and such. And the....well, I guess, you know all about the things I've done, eh? I don't know if my house would be the best thing for you. I don't want you to be any more afraid of me than you already are."

Squee wiped his eyes, and answered in a voice that was all too innocent, "That was b'fore. I mean, you're still scary and crazy, but...I know you didn't REALLY want to kill me. You're just crazier than usual, is all."

Johnny blinked. Such a sweet boy he was, however naïve.

"Besides, the boy replied. "My daddy is...WAS scarier than you. At least you're nice."

Johnny smiled. "Well, I guess that's true," he answered shyly. "Listen, Squee. I know things may look a little...shaky now, but they're bound to get better." His throat hurt as he said this; he just wasn't used to playing the role of optimist.

Squee smiled, the tears disappearing from his rounded eyes. Johnny smiled back. "I guess we can leave now, if you want. I don't think the Devil likes me being here."

---

I shouldn't be here anymore. I really shouldn't. After all the trouble I've caused. And the things the voices said. They said Squee was next. For what? To go insane? To turn into some wretched beast bent on killing and ranting about the unjust situations in life that he must fix by means of violence and slaughter? To try and kill the people he holds dear, simply because of some internal, insane presence? I just can't allow that to happen. Maybe if I leave, he won't be subject to such harshness.

Yes, this is best, I believe. He won't have to roll around in my shit if I'm gone. Yes, and I'll take the Doughboys with, and Nailbunny and Reverend Meat. Maybe I should burn the whole damn house down, with all of them in it. That way, he's not influenced by their evil, and neither am I. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Yeah.

He'll be alone again though.

Johnny glanced down at his young friend, who had, at some point in time, wrapped his tiny hand around the man's. Johnny couldn't recall when that had happen; he hadn't even felt it. Despite how uncomfortable he felt at this, he said nothing, nor tore his hand away. After all, if the kid's parents were to be walking about and acting like their cruel, stupid, drugged -up, liquored selves, then why not let him be happy, even for only a few moments.

His thoughts turned back to when they had left the house. Senior Diablo was thrilled when Johnny announced his departure, but seemed pretty neutral when it became apparent that Squee was leaving too. But it wasn't that. It was what the Devil had said as the two walked out the front door, seemingly content.

"Take care, Mr. C. Who knows what and who awaits you when you get home..." he'd said, winking slyly at Johnny.

Johnny shuddered. The way he had winked. And that smile. Goddamn, did he know something that the poor man didn't? The bastard had probably sent his little demons to fuck with his house and set it to explode when he stepped inside. That was it, wasn't it?...

"Are you okay, Mr. Johnny?" Squee whispered.

Johnny smiled nervously. "Um, yeah. I was just thinking about certain things. You don't need to call me Mr. Johnny, Squee. Save your politeness for people who deserve it. Call me Nny, or even Johnny will work if you'd rather call me that," he replied, trying to put on his 'happy' face.

...Do I even have a 'Happy Face?'

Probably not, he decided as hey reached their block and headed down the sidewalk. It was only after a minute or two did they begin to hear screaming.

This wasn't screaming of pain or fear or anything like that. This was angry screaming; Cussing, yelling, and sounds that signified someone was throwing stuff. Worse yet, they were coming from Squee's house.

Johnny bit his lip as they stopped at Squee's front door, still hearing the noises that seeped through with ease. He glanced at Squee, who seemed even more scared than usual, and pushed him back a little.

"Do you want to go back to this?" his voice shook.

Squee gulped audibly, staring at the door. His parents had never hit him, not once, but now.....now it sounded like they would. Would they start beating him now? Would Johnny kill them if they did? Yeah.

The noises stopped abruptly. Not a sound came, not even something that could've meant they killed one another.

---

Black and gray, red and orange and yellow. Sometimes blue. That was the way things looked from his point of view. No one else seemed to be able to see it. They found it as a way of living, unable to identify the fact that they were all in Hell.

It seemed kind of pointless to him, but what the hell? If acting like everyone else did saved him from being unnoticed and unharmed, then that's what he would do. Still, it just seemed stupid. Like that bagel man who kept getting run over everyday.

Ah,, there you are, you detestable little zit.

He opened his eyes, seeing nothing but the usual fiery red and the flames shooting upward at the sky. The voice was in his head, pounding, hurting. But he ignored this sensation, as it strangely enough, delivered him from the constant throbbing he had felt for so long.

He said nothing, and the voice didn't expect him to.

Get yourself ready. You're leaving.

He sat straight up, hearing his back snap in defiance, and opened his cotton-dry mouth quickly to speak, "You mean, I can leave? Where am I going? Heaven, right? You're going to send me to Heaven?"

The voice laughed shrilly. I think not, worm-child. I'm sending you above. You're returning to Earth I have a special....job for you. Heaven....that's a good one. Honestly, you have been sent here for a reason, and I highly doubt you'll ever be floating in that beautiful sky for any length of time in this eternity.

He frowned at this. Never going to Heaven? That meant he would be made to suffer forever in eternal hell, forced to converse with those...morons. What had he done to be dropped off with such obvious idiots who were so visible flawed with their inferiority. He spoke none of this to the voice, however, knowing that would probably just piss off his Master and he'd lose this chance to leave. "What's this....job? Is it painful? Its painful, isn't it?"

Hardly. As far as I know and will allow, nothing will hurt you as long as your up there. You won't be able to bleed, eat, nor will you be able to engage in any sexual pleasures, as I'm sure you did nothing of the sort anyhow when you were alive. The reason is all too obvious. The voice made a disgusted noise, something between swallowing vomit and a muffled 'ew.'

He growled indignantly, but shrugged it away. "And where am I going exactly? How is it that I could possibly be sent back and not be able to eat or anything. And for your information, I didn't die a virgin or anything like that!"

Ah, yes. That's because you were raped. Twice. They still talk about you, you know. Now if you'd let me explain...

He blushed furiously. How could he not expect the Devil to know about that? He stayed silent. The voice was become infuriated with the interruptions.

I'm sending you up to a friend of mine. Maybe you know him....His name's Johnny C.

He didn't have to think twice. "When do I leave?"

----

Haunting haunting haunting haunting .....She was always being haunted by these things. These fears that consumed her every nerve, her body, her mind. She felt the need to cry at all of it, but the tears wouldn't come, so she painted instead, jabbing her brush at the canvas, angrily.

Why did life have to be filled with such shit? Filled with little boys that watched their families die, and wonderful that couldn't help but go horribly insane and brutally murder people? Why did it have to be like that?

Why couldn't it just be okay? Why couldn't she just be.....happy?

Devi D. lay on her couch, eyes closed, listening to the sounds of her apartment. Her mind was ablaze with thoughts, but no matter how much they persisted, she managed to block them out. All these excess thoughts...driving her crazy again...

How she longed for sanity.

But that wasn't likely to happen; not after the latest events. Sure, she felt kind of bad for leaving that kid there, with some strange family, but he had known them, and Johnny was unconscious, thank God.

Johnny...

"Oh, why couldn't he have been sane...somewhat?" she asked herself, opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling.

"How...boring..."

Devi's sat straight up, her eyes scanning the room, in a panic. That voice...it sounded so familiar...it couldn't be...She gulped something down in her throat, and swung her legs over the side of the couch, ready to jump up if necessary.

A shadow stepped out, grinning, and staring at her with vacant eye sockets. "Hello, Devi. So nice to see you again."

Devi stared in disbelief. "Sih-Sickness?"

Sickness nodded, still smiling, and yanked two shiny screws into view. It forced them into the empty eye sockets, and turned its attention back to Devi once more. "That's better....now...where were we?..."

Devi screamed.

---

A/N: The bad news: No more Devi in this story. Sorry. I figure, with Sickness coming back and all, it would just make this story even longer than necessary, not to mention tear the story away from Johnny, our resident basket case. Perhaps we will finish her story later...or not... I dunno...

There's about a chapter or two left. I know you're all thinking, 'why won't she just die already?' or something like that. I apologize. This chapter was rushed. And the next chapter will be too. Now that JOHNNY's dead, it's all....sloooooooooww. So after I'm done, there will be new fan fiction. I will be working on two fanfics at once: one will be JTHM, the continuation of this story, and Foster's home for imaginary friends will be the other one. I'll be much more involved. I promise.

The end is near....

...with a twist of something scary...lol