Author's Notes: Aaaand last chapter that has been written so far. Chapter 11 is being worked on and plot is happenin'... yup.
Thanks to Androgynous Napkin for BETAing.
Chapter 10- Oh Shmee, Dear Shmee
Timmy stood on the curb, a ratty cat beside him, tail twitching. The cat gazed at the house before them, its bright green eyes almost glowing in the blinding sunlight. Timmy raised a hand to his mouth, thought better of it and began chewing on his teddy bear's ear instead.
"I did burn it... right?"
The cat cocked a furless ear and growled.
"I didn't know they could do that."
The feline's fur rose in patchy anger. Timmy flinched away from it and clutched his teddy tighter.
The house showed evidence of recent damage. The windows were warped and cracked, the wood slightly blackened. All of the previously green lawn had vanished and muddy soil oozed from every orifice left behind. Other than those faint traces of battle, however, it was as if the fire never existed. To Timmy the house seemed a lot more menacing but to the cat... it was a mockery. The waste, the leftover hatred and offal was laughing at him.
Look at me, the cat was certain it was saying. I managed to lure three people here! Three! And now I have one that can feed me! Nah nah nah nah nah!
The cat stared up at the trembling boy, green eyes blazing. This one was becoming old, habituated. It meant very bad news for the Trauma Sponge as, no longer being fed, it would fade into oblivion.
But the system was flawed.
Both systems.
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Oliver watched. Timmy and that evil ball of dirt beside him. He knew that look. Timmy's 'I'm confused' look and the claw-fest... Oliver grinned. Well, the tailless monstrosity was obviously angry. It stalked off, nub held high and left Timmy. Oliver frowned. Timmy was small. Alone was bad. Well, he'd have to remedy that.
"Hiiiiii, Tim-Tim!"
Timmy had a teddy bear, Oliver noticed. It was kind of a creepy bear. He was clutching it awfully tight.
"Who's that?"
A trembling voice, barely above a hissed whisper.
Oliver grinned. How cute. People and naming things. Like George and... uh...
What was he thinking about again? Oliver glanced around. He was in a building now. And dripping... dripping blood. Another blank spot. They worried Oliver. He didn't like losing control like that and- hey, nice boots.
Oliver walked out from the building, which had gathered a crowd of mostly police officers, and marveled over his new boots. They were very nice boots. Yes, nice boots indeed. Oliver tried to remember the way home and decided to follow an old lady with a shopping cart. Now, there was something he had to remember about Johnny....
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"Hiiiiii, Tim-Tim!"
Timmy jumped and whirled to face Oliver. He didn't like Oliver because the scary man was always showing him scary things. Like those children... or 777. Timmy stared up at the tall man and swallowed. Oliver's expression went from happy to puzzled in the blink of an eye and he pointed at Timmy's teddy bear.
"Who's that?"
Timmy shifted his feet nervously and tried to work up enough courage to speak. He barely managed to whisper.
"Shmee."
Oliver grinned his scary grin and opened his mouth. He paused. Timmy sighed in relief. That expression always meant Oliver would turn around and go somewhere else. Timmy didn't know why but it never failed.
Indeed, seconds later Oliver turned on is heel and marched off, determination in every step. Timmy watched him go and gave the relatively unmarked 777 a furtive glance before turning home.
"C'mon Shmee. Let's go see if mom's got cookies."
