AN: Thank you, onlytomriddle, for the idea. But to kill Jhonen is committing a very final act. Finality frightens me. And please don't remind me how disgustingly out of character Mr. Vasquez is...Lest I shoot myself in the foot as punishment. This is the last chapter.

Chapter Nine: The Color Forgotten...:

After they each had spoke of their stories and answered mutual questions, Jhonen and Alice sat in silence.

"Jhonen?" Alice whispered.

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." She said, and cuddled into him.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." He said back, and held her tightly.

It was late.

"Why don't you go to bed?" he said, lifting her chin.

She gave him a kiss. "Are you coming?"

"Soon. I'll be there soon."

"Ok." She said, and kissed him and walked into the bedroom.

He watched her close the door, and went into his office. There was a cot. But he wouldn't sleep there. Not tonight. Tonight, he would sleep with Alice.

He would comfort her and make sure she wasn't afraid or alone. Not that she'd been alone, but still. It was probably the boyfriend syndrome. He assumed something along the lines of "PROTECT! PRESERVE! KILL!" or some testosterone-fueled mindset like that.

He looked at his other drawing board, the one in his 'official' office. The separate one from his bedroom desk.

Johnny...There's so much you need to know still.

He was tired. He was very tired.

It was almost two-thirty in the morning. And he did not want to sleep. At all.

In fact, he wondered what conception of his would come back to haunt him next. Devi? Squee? The fucking Filler Bunny, who of all of them, would have the most right in destroying his existence since Jhonen made his hell worse than all of them.

Why did he do things like that?

Who knew?

Jhonen did. He knew for a fact that everything he created, everything he wanted for his characters, everything he lived for in this city, and everything he went through in youth, were all related, and they were all portrayed.

In fact, since he'd met Alice, he hadn't felt the need to really vent or...how he hated putting it this way...Stand on a soap box and rant about anything.

He was just...He was peaceful.

He wanted to go back to the beach tomorrow. After all, it was summer.

Some things about him, however, wouldn't change. Like how he wished his world was like that of a fantasy land like in many animes and video games he watched and played. That's what the world needs. Something to take away from the ordinary. Something that would distract people, and make them think about other things. Supernatural, magical, mystical. Something completely apart from the mundane.

But this was Earth.

And this was America.

And this was California.

And this was Los Angeles.

And this was his nice apartment in the city.

He sighed and looked out the window.

The city lights were spectacular. The moon was out. The stars burned brightly.

Everything he needed, however, was right here, right here in this world, right here in this dimension.

And that's how he liked it.

He leaned against the window pane, and smiled.

"Late summer evenings, I painted a scene," he sang, happily, "Of the mountains afar, and the color of screams..."

THE END.