Author's Note ~ I know I'm gonna get this question. Edgar Vargas is from Issue 2. He's da guy in da story that I think was called "Goblins". This is also after their relationship is set ala Vargas. Kinda. So read that first. It'll make more sense, or something.
Don't expect too much justification. It was just a Valentine's Day fic. ^_^
Oh yeah, and da song is called Euphoria (Firefly) by Delerium. Shoulda mentioned that somewhere. Durr. ^_^o

(By "Inna lot of 12 couples, they got picked. So...SONG TIME!" Zarla)
(Warning: I am not responsible fer any mental damage caused by reading this fic.)

And how I've loved

God. How did this keep happening to him? How?!

This was ridiculous. This was patently ridiculous. He could not believe this was happening to him.

He was normally so logical. So rational. This was so unlike him.

There had always been exceptions to his normal logic-his faith for example-but this was one he had not prepared for. Then again, how could you prepare for something like this?

Edgar Vargas sat on the ratty couch in the center of the room, still feeling awkward and somewhat foolish. He had been here many times. He knew this house just as well as he knew its occupant, which was a rather disturbing thought.

He still felt ridiculous. He felt so foolish because he knew the inhabitant of this dingy dwelling. He knew exactly what he did and why. And yet, here he sat on his couch and waited for him to come back.

Just because he wanted to give him something.

Johnny had not even been very clear on what it was.

Edgar could not believe himself.

And I have served

He had faithfully obeyed all of Johnny's requests. Initially, it had been out of fear for his life. After this had lessened through gradual and consistent contact, he felt an obligation to Johnny instead of that painful fear. No longer did he stay with him because it was not his choice, but because he felt that he should. That Johnny, in a dementedly twisted way, needed him. He was right in that regard, although not exactly in the way he had thought.

First, he was Johnny's friend. His only friend, actually. In the physical plane.

And then after that...

Well, here he was. All because he still felt obligated to Johnny, to indulge him so that he could experience those rare moments of sanity.

Those moments were rare, but they were beautiful in their own way. That was what kept him here on this couch, waiting. So he could help those moments appear and be cherished when they did show.

He kept him sane. Or at least, that was what he liked to think.

And I have sinned

Edgar leaned back, raising a hand almost unconsciously to touch the scars underneath his eyes. Johnny wasn't good at apologizing, in particular regarding the gashes, but that was alright.

Permanent reminders, right?

He could not believe he was here. He was sitting in this house, its lower chambers decorated with dying and/or dead humans, and he was waiting for their jailor to come and give him something.

He should be helping them.

But after such prolonged contact with the maniac, Edgar had begun to understand why Johnny kept so many people down there. Edgar did provide a slight guiding influence so less innocent people were trapped, but on the whole the people below him deserved their fate.

Guilty pang at that thought. This went entirely against his religious beliefs.

In fact, his presence went entirely against his better judgment as well.

But with his one fateful decision what seemed like months ago, Edgar had finally decided, in so many words, 'What the #$^#', and decided to do what he wanted to do.

Guilty yes. But it did feel good.

But I have learned
As long as you are true to the life that you live
This is the time to feel love

He could hear Johnny coming up the stairs, his boots making loud sounds against the wood planking. Edgar sighed to himself at the sound, leaning back and burying his hands in his dark hair.

He had a feeling about what the gift would contain. Considering who it was coming from, it seemed only natural. Expected. But the horror it once would have inspired now only slightly depressed him.

His life had changed so much after he had escaped, after he and Johnny had resumed contact, after everything that had happened. He had changed in many ways. Not necessarily for the better.

But he did feel good about who he was now. He felt kind of like he had stopped lying to himself.

Not that he still didn't feel reservations about what he was doing. But was hard to explain really.

It all related back to Johnny, and he always made things so complicated.

The doorknob turned and the blue-haired man made his way into the room, a box held with one arm in awkward balance. His face was flecked with dark spatters, some strands of his hair hanging limp around his face, matted with blood. Even his clothes were stained with the results of his work.

And, with little doubt, the source of his gift.

He could recognize the manic gleam in Johnny's eyes as he walked towards him. He was certainly pleased with himself.

I feel a stirring deep within
Slowly picking up momentum
Like the tide coming into shore
Over and under in its course

Despite his guess at what the box contained, Edgar could not resist the sense of enthusiasm, excitement over a gift of any kind. His relative lack of a social life had made these occurrences increasingly more rare and the reaction he had to Johnny sitting beside him, handing him the box with such a pleased grin, could not be controlled.

Trying to stifle his excitement, he glanced over at Johnny who was staring at him with the same sense of energetic anticipation. Edgar smiled at him slightly.

"What is this?"

"Open it." Even Johnny's normally dangerous, angry words seemed tinged with a kind of childlike pleasure. He smiled in a rather disturbing fashion. "I think you'll like it."

As Edgar ran his thin hands over the top of the cardboard box, the thrill and anticipation he felt increasing at the feel of the substance under his fingers.

It had been a while since he had felt this curious about anything. He liked it.

This feeling emblazed inside
Every nerve like a firefly
Hovering above me
Glow, glow, glowing divine

As he lifted the lid to the box, the red-soaked interior already confirmed his initial guess at its contents. He put the lid carefully to one side as he stared down at the inside of his gift.

The heart had been torn out of someone's body, no doubt fairly recently. A glance at Johnny made that the most likely possibility, considering the new bloodstains on him. The arteries had been severed messily, a few of them still leaking fluid into the box. A discolored dead mass of flesh...

Edgar knew Johnny killed people. He knew that. However, no matter how many bodies he saw, he never lost the tinge of fear. The knowledge that he could be cold and dead for a moment, that he could be lost. He was frightened by such outright carnage, what Johnny was truly capable of.

Of course, Johnny knew that. That's why he did this.

Nervously and shakily, Edgar adjusted his glasses, although he did not need to, and looked at him with a forced semi-annoyed expression, a smile betraying his true feelings.

"Very nice."

Johnny smiled at him in that peculiarly demented way again. "There are so many possibilities for a bad pun, but I think I'll pass." Pause. "It was fun to get."

"Thanks." Edgar put the lid back on the box, the tingling feeling of fright lapsing back into a more pleasant sense of adrenaline and energy. He could sense the heat his body had generated in its fear response dissipating around him, almost like it hovered around his skin in a way, offsetting his shaky movements.

He set the box to one side. "Kind of ironic, considering the day."

Johnny continued to smile, finding Edgar's reaction amusing. "That's why I got it."

"I don't really have anything for you, though." Edgar raised a hand to run it through his hair, but then remembered what he had just been touching. He paused awkwardly, letting his hand fall back down to his side.

Every nerve like a firefly
Every nerve like firefly
This feeling emblazed inside
Every nerve like a firefly

The smile on Johnny's face vanished in what seemed like seconds. The time it took Edgar to react was used by the dark man to pin him against the couch, almost snarling into his face. His voice was vicious and broken, the hatred and bitterness tearing through his previous soft, amused tone.

"What do you think I would want?! What could you possibly give me?!"

Edgar had never gotten used to these mood-swings either. They came and passed so quickly.

Johnny had quickly and effectively immobilized him, one hand pressed tightly against his throat and the other having taken hold of both of his wrists. The pressure from Johnny's hand was not enough to choke him, so he knew that he was not trying to kill him. At the moment. Just to keep him still...although Edgar could feel his hands shaking in Johnny's grasp despite both of their best efforts to still them.

"There is nothing that I want, nothing that could ever..." Johnny's voice slightly calmed, taking on the typical angry, wounded air that came whenever he spoke of humankind's worst faults. Johnny's maddened and vengeful eyes stared into Edgar, filled with so much anger that Edgar could not hold his gaze.

Flooded with fear and shaking uncontrollably, unable to break free, Edgar tilted his head, hoping to angle one of the scars on his face into Johnny's line of vision. This had worked before...

Remember who I am, please please...

Johnny's angry tirade trailed off at the sight of one of the dark red gashes and his grip loosened, then finally released. Johnny slowly moved away from him, supporting himself with his arms as he hovered above him with a confused expression. Edgar breathed shakily and deep, fear, having been denied its 'fight or flight' decision, still struggling to find a more tangible outlet in his body. It took up residence in his shaking limbs as he stared at Johnny with what he hoped was calming confidence. He did not want to appear as frightened as he was, although his body was betraying him at this point. He was so shaken he almost felt as if he were on fire, as if his muscles burned with the sheer fear that was fading so gradually.

"Oh..." The exclamation was almost as if Johnny was discussing something minutely trivial, something that he had remembered that was not important. The angry, murderous look on his face faded back to, thankfully, a more neutral expression. "Edgar."


God, why do I keep doing this?

I never want to loose
what I have finally found

Johnny leaned away from him, giving Edgar a bit more breathing space that he took gratefully. He looked somewhat distant as his hands sank back down to his sides while Edgar's, in contrast, rested on his chest and throat.

Edgar was not sure what to say as Johnny continued to stare off into space.

"What..." Johnny began but cut himself off, looking deeply thoughtful again. Edgar, still frightened but desperate for some room, raised his hands and rested them on Johnny's shoulders with the intent of moving him out of the way.

Passively, Johnny allowed Edgar to shift him as he still looked off into space. The scarred man guessed that he was discussing something with one of his inner voices, perhaps what he had just been doing.

"Didn't mean to upset you." Edgar took another deep breath, struggling to get his nerves under control. He felt extremely unsettled, all of his muscles twitching and electrified. He was prepared for something, his body desiring some kind of input that he could expend all this energy on. It actually made him feel powerful in a strange way. Although he hated the source of such energy, he enjoyed it when it did come to him. "Are you okay?"

Johnny finally looked at him, or at least, at some point past him. "Edgar..." His voice trailed off again, still thoughtful.

"I'm okay, don't worry." Edgar was pretty sure that was not what Johnny was concerned about at the moment. "Nny?"

At the sound of his nickname, Johnny smiled again. This time it was not the maniacally insane smile present before or one that preceded someone's imminent death. This one was almost genuine, soft and sincere. "That's right."

This conversation was becoming almost typical for them. Edgar sighed to himself.

"I'm okay."

"That's good." Johnny still sounded very far away. He was considering something, although Edgar was not sure what. "Yes..."

"Are you going to be okay?"

Johnny looked back at him in confusion for a moment, then smiled again in that same soft way. "Oh...right. About that..." He raised a hand to the back of his head, running thin fingers through spiked hair. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay." Edgar knew he did not like to apologize. He held out a hand. "Don't worry about it."

There's a requiem
A new congregation
And it's telling me go forward

Johnny reached out hesitantly and took Edgar's hand with a familiar timidness. This aspect of the maniac was rare, far more so then the moments of sanity he experienced. This Johnny was almost frightened, not sure what to expect.

He was the easiest to deal with, although Edgar had some rather extreme examples to compare him to.

Edgar held onto his hand, not applying pressure but not allowing Johnny's hand to escape his own.

How rare is this mood of my own? I'm so busy trying to identify Johnny's moods that I don't notice my own. How often do I get like this?

How often do I do this...?

Probably as often as Johnny became so desperate for approval.

"I do like..." Edgar paused and smiled. "Well, no...I can't honestly say I like the present itself..." He was thankfully rewarded by a returning smile. "But it's the thought that counts, right?"

Johnny stared at him with wide eyes, searching him for something. Edgar wasn't quite sure what it was.

Sometimes, Johnny was this terrible, agonized figure who dealt death and destruction like some kind of demented demigod. Other times, he was internally conflicted, tormented, unable to understand himself or his motivations to his utter frustration. Still other times, he could be so pleased at things that meant nothing, so happy and satisfied with the world for a few precious moments that it was easy to forget he was insane.

And sometimes, Johnny reached out. He reached out for other people that would not drive him to kill. In particular, he had found Edgar, who did not inspire such homicidal urges.

Edgar was confident now that he would not die. He would certainly get scared to death, which in some bizarre way was kind of pleasant, but he was sure that Johnny would not kill him.

Not now.

Edgar still felt residual fear from the previous unexpected attack, his hands and legs still shaking, his heart beating well over its normal rate.

In a way, the fear was almost a part of it all.

And walk under a brighter sky
Every nerve glowing like a firefly

Johnny leaned towards him. Filled with uncontrollable nervousness, Edgar pulled gently on Johnny's arm, drawing him in closer.

It was kind of ironic. Johnny was normally an iron fortress of hate and bitterness. But not right now. Like any of his moods, this could change at any moment, which was why Edgar decided to take advantage of it while he had the chance.

Johnny fell onto him almost like a rag doll, relinquishing almost the entire control of his body as Edgar struggled, with another tinge of surprise, to keep him upright. Edgar was positive Johnny would not appreciate being dropped.

He ended up with one arm around his back, the other behind his head, Johnny not supporting himself in the least, completely limp.

In order to do this, to allow such physical and perhaps emotional contact of any kind, Johnny almost had to...'leave' in a sense of the word. Maybe one of his voices took control. Maybe this was the actual Johnny. Edgar was not good at metaphysics.

Johnny looked at him with eyes ringed with dark shadows, red near the edges from lack of peaceful rest. Across his face traced dark spots and blotches of blood, contrasting sharply against sallow skin. The strands of blue hair fell in front of his blank eyes, stained dark. He was staring up at him as if waiting for something, refusing to move.

"Are..." The word escaped Edgar before he realized that words were entirely useless.
Still flush with adrenaline, terrified at what could be the potential result of his actions, Edgar lifted Johnny's mouth to his own in a soft, quick kiss.

He knew that afterward, Johnny would again become homicidal. Terrifying him and confusing him all at once. Johnny would once again become insane and Edgar would again become logical.

But for a few moments, they could pretend that, for the love of god, they were a normal couple.

Those few precious moments between weeks of insanity, curses, inane threats and incomprehensible laughter. Moments between doubt, skepticism, fear, and his own sense of losing control.

Johnny still remained limp in his arms, eyes still staring blankly at him. Edgar waited for a reaction...perhaps Johnny's typical violent shove, screaming, and yelling, or the more atypical complete and total physical retreat into some other room farther away.

Johnny blinked, the blank expression fading away. He stared at him with some unreadable emotion. It was incredibly hard to predict or interpret anything with Johnny, so Edgar waited.

Finally Johnny moved his arms, lifting them upwards slowly until they rested across Edgar's shoulders. Johnny inclined his head at him slightly, looking at him with his closest approximation of affection.

"You make me happy."

He had heard that before, but Edgar could not suppress a smile at the simple words.

"That's enough for me."

And for a few more minutes, they pretended to be normal.


The End

(Author's Note: Me: Let's make this a happy cute fic! Give Edgar a present, Nny.
Me: NO! NO STOP THAT ARGH! Stop bein a nut, Nny!
Nny: Can I be really distant instead? ::stares off into space::
Me: NO! Darn it!
Nny: I'm a ragdoll. ::floppa::
Edgar: Kay. o.o
Me: I can live with that.)