Chapter eight, in which some stuff happens. Written when I should have been writing a four-page essay for History. Yup, I'm willing to fail my honors class for the sake of your entertainment. I am such a nice person, no? I deserve all of your undying souls… and cookies. Lots of cookies. Preferably oatmeal raisin…

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The room was dark, but the distant window allowed the outside world's glow to enter, casting strange shadows on the wall. The blankets were set in a crumpled heap around his toes. He had kicked them off his torso hours ago. Heh, hours... Hours of tossing and turning. Hours of uncontrolled and unwanted thoughts careening through his mind. Hours of waiting for the dark of night to pass, for the blaze of dawn to weave across the sky.

Tossing and turning, tossing and turning... like always. Like every night of my life that I could ever remember. Can't get comfortable... What time is it?

These were Johnny's thoughts as he lay sprawled out on his back, his darkened gaze fixed on the ceiling. He couldn't sleep, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. No, wait. He didn't want to. He hated sleep.

Ha, sleep. I despise it. Sleep is for only those who give up easily, who shut off their awareness to dream. Why should I even want, or even attempt, to dream of better things. I know my place. This is all I have…

The thin man's contemplations were brought to a screeching halt as he remembered where he was. He wasn't in his run down hovel, were he could scream his thoughts to the world and be answered by multiple, unsubstantial voices. He was in Devi's apartment, in her warm bed, while she rested on the couch in the next room. It was his last night here. In the morning he would leave.

What will become of us after I leave? Would we continue to talk with one another?

Or would they simply say their 'goodbyes', and would that be the end of it?

Could I honestly say 'farewell' so soon...

Slowly, Johnny turned over onto his side, wincing as the bright green glare of the digital clock blinked back at him. It was 3:00 AM. A twisted smile formed on his lips as a thought came to him.

I could leave now, he thought. I should. It would be for the best. And besides…it would save both of us the trouble of parting.

Johnny rose into a sitting position, exhaling harshly as a quick bolt of pain coursed through his side. It didn't last long, and the ache seemed to be getting less intense. He guessed that the contusion was beginning to heal. He stood, hearing as well as feeling his bones grating against each other. Instantly, he became still, and silence descended one more. His eyes darted about the room. There was no sound, no movement from the next room. He sighed gratefully, and continued to scour the room with his gaze.

Something with a dull, metallic shine caught his gaze. His steel-toed boots were placed against the wall. He walked over, snatched them in his hand and fixed them onto his feet. After he had buckled them tightly, he crept down out of the bedroom. He moved slowly and noiselessly, like a great, skeletal cat, as he entered the small living room. It was dark here too, maybe even darker, but the room wasn't completely still. Johnny could hear, very faintly, the sound of Devi's breathing.

She must be asleep. Quiet, I need to stay quiet, he thought, hoping that he wouldn't lapse into another coughing fit and wake her. Damned rain-induced cold. I'd kill it if I could.

Johnny picked his way through the veil of darkness, until he had located the closet. He opened it tenderly, paused as it gave a soft creaking noise, and then reached in. Once he felt the familiar, rough fabric of his coat between his fingers, he pulled it out. It was still slightly damp on the inside of the sleeves, but he gave it no thought. Gracefully, he draped it over his back, sliding his thin arms through the sleeves. He grinned as heard the quiet 'swooshing' of the coat tails brushing against his heel. He had always loved that sound.

Unconsciously, he shoved his hands into his pockets. His eyes widened as his skin failed to touch the bitter, metal handles of his blades.

Shit, shit! he screamed in his head. My knives, where the hell are they?

Dark brown eyes threw their gaze around every corner in the room, searching for his beloved weapons. Then he saw them. They were resting on the table beside the couch, were Devi lay. He paced over, and peered down at them for a moment. Then, swallowing nervously, he reached out with his bony fingers. They came to rest on one of the handles, and grasped it slowly. There was a scraping sound as he lifted it off the wooden surface, and he hesitated as he saw Devi stir a little. After she was still again, he put the weapon in one of the deep pockets of his coat.

Now for the other one. He touched the knife's handle, as tenderly as before, but froze as a tickle welled up in his chest. He was going to cough. He held his breath and clamped his teeth together as he fought it off. After a few long moments the feeling subsided, and he managed to grip the knife and place it in his pockets without a sound.

He heaved a silent sigh of relief. That was a close one, Nny. Too close…

Johnny found his gaze wandering to Devi. She was curled up on one corner of the couch. Her dark purple hair was not held up in two long pigtails as it usually was. Now it was free and slightly tangled, and the strands were falling gracefully over her face. All her defenses were down. Her bold green eyes were softly closed, and her reserved, slightly aggressive nature was abolished with slumber. He couldn't help but smile, but it melted into a look of worry as he continued to watch her.

She was shivering. Johnny suddenly realized that there were no blankets shielding her from the cold air in the apartment.

She needs some blankets, he thought. He looked at her again, and shook his head. No, her bed would be better…

He scratched his head a bit as he wondered if he should carry her to her room. Would that be rude of him? What if she suddenly woke up in his arms? How would she react? He continued to gaze at her, and soon his mind was made up. Even though she would probably be angry with him, Johnny couldn't leave knowing that would be Devi shivering in her sleep.

He approached her cautiously, barely daring to breathe as he stared at her. Very slowly, he slid his arms under her legs and back. Devi stirred, and he paused until she became motionless again. He watched her intently for a moment, then, in the gentlest movement his claw like fingers had ever executed, lifted her off the couch. He ignored the pain firing through the gash on his arm as he let her weight settle in his arms.

Devi murmured something softly, and rested her head against his chest, sighing contentedly. Johnny felt every drop of blood in his body rush up to his face, tinting his cheeks red. An unbelievable feeling washed over him as he looked at her. He felt nervous and sick, overjoyed and sorrowful. He felt full of regret, but peaceful as well, as though everything he had ever wanted was right in front of him. Then, quick as lightning, the feeling was gone. He stood there for a moment, hid form ridged and feeling so nervous and confused that sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Calm down, Nny. It was nothing, he thought, nothing at all. You're just distracting yourself, that's all. Now just get her into her bed and go.

Johnny carried her into her room, and delicately placed her on the bed. He pulled the blankets over Devi shoulders, and she gave another sigh and became still once more. He was about to turn away, when something on the nightstand caught his eye. A notepad and pen. With his eyes narrowing slightly, he scratched down a note, and tore off the small sheet of paper. He crumpled it up, placed it in the palm of Devi's hand, and tenderly closed her fingers around it. He watched her breathing for a moment, then, his eyes burning with longing, he turned away.

"Adieu, my dear friend. Adieu…"

--

She was in a dark, cold place. Nothing could be seen in the veil of absolute darkness around her. She couldn't see anything. She couldn't feel her body, and wasn't sure if she was moving or not. She could hardly breathe as fear gripped her heart.

Then, out of nowhere, a dim, red light flickered. She squinted her eyes in confusion as she watched it. It seemed to be getting bigger, brighter. A fresh thrill of fear flew through her. It was coming closer. She begged herself to shut her eyes, but she could not, She was too engrossed by that red glow.

As it continued to approach, the light appeared to be taking shape. She continued to stare, spellbound as the figure came to a gliding halt in from of her. It was a thin, black shadow, walking gracefully toward her. Then, she noticed that its features looked very familiar. She gasped in wonder as she saw it.

It was a man, or at least, it looked like a man. Tall, and clothed completely in black, torn garments. His hair was wild and unkempt, and seemed to fall over a face that she could not see through the shadows. Enormous, black wings were draped over his back. They were as tattered as his clothing, maybe even more frayed than they seemed to be. They were ragged, skeletal. Soft, black feathers hung loosely from them, some fluttering into the blackness as he moved. And where there were no feathers, there were thin, cracked bones, stained crimson with dried blood. The sickly red glow clung around him like a giant robe. He was both beautiful and terrible, a hybrid of heaven and hell.

He extended his hand to her. She wanted to run, but was completely entranced by this fallen angel. Slowly, like a sleepwalker, she drew nearer to him, and grasped his cold, bony hands with her own. A soon as they touched, a thread of warmth flowed through her. She seemed to be floating, then, before she had time to think, she found herself in his arms. He held her gently, lovingly, as a mother would hold her newborn baby. She looked up at him, confused.

"Who are you…?" she asked in a whisper.

The angel didn't reply. Still, she felt safe in his arms, and she rested her head on his chest. The sound of his slow, steady heartbeat echoed through her ears. Then everything, the glow, the angel, and the heartbeat, faded away into darkness…

…but the warmth remained.

--

Devi opened her eyes sluggishly as the dream ended. Still fatigued, she closed them again. The dream replayed through her mind. That man had looked so familiar. But she shrugged it off. It was only a dream, after all. She sighed, and snuggled herself under the blankets, thinking only of the warmth of her bed.

Wait. Her bed?

But she had fallen asleep on the couch…

Instantly, her eyes flew open and she bolted upright. The woman frantically looked around her. She was, indeed, in her bed. As she glanced around the room, she felt something in her hand, and peered down at it. It was a small sheet of paper, crumpled into a ball. Curious, she unscrambled the paper and began to read words, written neatly yet in haste, with black ink.

My dearest Devi,

I cannot thank you enough for your hospitality. Even though I, regretfully, tried to kill you that night, you still came to my aid. Any other person would have left me battered and lifeless in the rain. I find your actions to be not only astonishing, but deeply moving as well. I always thought that every other person was the same, that in the end, we are all heartless in one way or another. Maybe I still think that, but you proved that there are nicer souls in the world. I wish everyone was like you. Then I wouldn't be the way I am now.

Devi smiled slightly.

Oh, and sorry if I frightened you by carrying you to your bed. You were shivering on the couch, and I couldn't leave knowing that you were cold. I had a weird feeling when I carried you to your room. I told you long ago that I liked you immensely, remember? I still do, and I always will. Even though I can't allow myself to get close to anyone, even though out time together has passed, I will forever consider you my dearest friend. Maybe one day we'll see each other again. I would like that. Wouldn't you? Even if we do not meet again, Devi, I hope you never change. Just stay the way you are, and I'll be satisfied. I don't know what else to say, but this;

Goodbye, Devi.

-Nny

Devi leapt out of her bed, her feet pounding against the floor as fast as she could. She burst into the living room.

"Nny," she called. "Johnny, are you here?"

No answer. She checked everywhere else; the small kitchen, the bathroom, her drawing room. She looked in the closet, to find his trench coat missing. His boots were absent as well, along with his knives. Nothing, there was no trace of him. He was gone. Devi stared at the note again, rereading it frantically, over and over. A lone tear fell onto the paper, smudging Johnny's words.

Devi started to shake as she realized that the fallen angel from her dream was none other than Johnny C.

--

Yay, done. Squee will make an appearance in the next chapter.

I'll take my cookies now.