AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Urm... nothing much, this time. I don't own JTHM nor "I Feel Sick," Jhonen does. Thanks be to The Jhonen for (hopefully) not suing me, should he happen across this. So read the books, folks! They're just oodles'o fun. Possessed dollies, morbidly obese neighbors going up in flames, nighttime-TV-kinda stuff like that-- all this, and it's good, too!

Chronological info: this story is the sequel to my previous ff.net JTHM fanfic, "Ill-Humoured." "Visiting Hours" takes place after both the JTHM series and the "I Feel Sick" series, but before Johnny's appearance in "Squee!" #4.

Oh, and thanks to Chaotica, who let me snitch an idea from one of her Jhonenverse fics as well! I give you applause and a Brainfreezy.

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Visiting Hours
by Apricot the Gerbil


<By all the mercy you have in you, I BEG YOU! PLEASE STOOOOP!!!> the voice shrieked, its panic evident as it ended in a horrified squeal.

Devi paused in the line she was currently drawing on the canvas before her, gritting her teeth as she twiddled the paintbrush she held in her hand. Only a week ago, she had actually enjoyed hearing the ghostly voice of all that remained of Sickness beg and plead to her-- especially when
she'd painted over the empty shell of the doll-monster to make it look like a PowerPuff Girl, and let Tenna play with the pink-painted husk for a few hours... oh, that had been fun.

By now, however, the constant whining was only beginning to make Devi cringe, as she would from hearing the ever-present baby that would inevitably squall like the damned whenever she'd bring herself to eat OUTSIDE, no matter which restaurant she picked.

Her brow furrowed as Sickness continued to bawl in its shrill voice, and she lifted the useless headphones she'd had blaring against her ears for the past hour. Devi didn't bother to shout at Sickness out loud-- the Psychic Fat Lady was no longer there to croak back at her from the floor below, but screaming at the husk of the ex-doll-beast was futile. She knew as well as Sickness did that she was the being's sole audience now.

So, gathering together her "calm" mindset, Devi strode with stiff swishes towards the closet she'd tossed Sickness's husk into two days ago. As she knew it would be, the lifeless doll sat propped up against a shoebox. The pink paint had begun to flake off here and there around it-- a twisted
resemblance to the strawberry sherbet rotting off the ice cream man from Devi's worst nightmares. The fact that she had caused such a condition of something that had caused her so much pain gave her some comfort, but not enough to match her current frustration.

The doll's hollow, shriveling eyesockets stared on ahead, its tiny voice sniveling piteously as it was forced to witness the same episode of "Barney" that Devi had filled an entire eight-hour tape with, before she'd known how annoying Sickness could be after watching the tape a few dozen times in a row.

Devi heard the raspy voice waver through her mind's ear, its throat choked by flakes of building decay: <Please... I-I swear to you, I'll do whatever you wish, if you'll only let me GO...>

"Hmph. Do you really expect me to believe you, after all the shit I've had to put up from you?!" Devi mentally spat back at the voice, trying to disguise how relieved she'd probably be if it would finally shut up.

<Hsssaaa...> the doll's voice croaked, but Devi couldn't tell whether it was trying to sigh or laugh. <You say that as if you don't even know what I could do for you...>

Devi rolled her eyes. "Such as...? And let me tell you, Sickness, if you say one more word about how powerful you could make me if I follow you, or any shit like that..."

<No... *goff* ...but-- but please, if we're going to negotiate, turn off that blasted tape, will you?!>

Devi said nothing, but tapped the STOP button, never taking her eyes off the remnants of the doll.

<Thankyeww...> the voice sighed in relief. <But, down to business, I suppose... Now. What would you want in return for letting me go?> It hummed to itself in thought for a moment before mumbling, <Yesss... That could be an option. Say, Devi... what would you say if I could give you something you've been craving for years now?>

"Like what?" Devi asked, half-wondering who-- or what-- Sickness might have been consulting for such possibilities.

If the doll's haggard mouth crept upward at the sides for only a moment, Devi didn't notice. All she could hear was the voice's response, echoing in her ears:

<REVENGE...>

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Dr. Malcolm allowed himself to sigh as the patient before him finally slumped into unconsciousness. He shook his head in relief as he placed the empty needle into the room's disposal-bin. He'd never seen a person that could take that high a dose of tranquilizers and still be functionally alert for so long.

<Why on Earth would L'England put up with so much crap just to have somebody for her sleep study?> Malcolm thought, as he had so many times in the past few days. He wondered how much his fellow colleague actually knew about the dozing man before him now.

After notifying the staff that "Mr. C" was finally asleep, Malcolm walked down the hallway, adrift in his thoughts as he listened to the rhythmic clack, clack, clack of his shoes against the tile hallway. Now that he remembered... that's right, wasn't it? Dr. L'England wasn't even in the
building the night that Mr. C had come through the emergency room's doors. However, as soon as she'd heard that someone in the hospital had claimed that it'd been four months since he'd last slept, well... L'England did need someone for her lagging sleep study. And when it was found that
Mr. C had no insurance... well, one "business proposal" with L'England later, the good Doctor finally had a star for her project.

He doubted that she knew about the condition Mr. C had been in that night... how the man had been babbling about having to triumph over "The Meat," whoever that was, his eyes dark enough to have looked like he'd had eyeliner smeared under them, the faint scent of vomit still wafting about him... At first, Malcolm had simply thought the person to be some sort of raving lunatic-- possibly a wino who'd picked the wrong street to sleep that night.

However, despite what he'd heard from the ER staff, Dr. Malcolm was still in disbelief that Mr. C had actually driven himself to the hospital after having practically had the Bobbit treatment given to him by somebody. The surgeon who'd operated on that particular wound had still not entirely recovered from whatever Mr. C had told her before the ether finally took effect on him.
Malcolm considered asking her what had happened to the man, but had refrained out of his own better judgment. He sighed to himself... only two months of this job, and already the people were creeping him out.

Malcolm could only shake his head in wonder about this particular patient, though. Either Mr. "C" (One letter for his last name, and no Social Security number? What was he, some Witness Protection refugee?) was one of the most iron-willed people he'd ever come across, or he had the I.Q. of a bowl of mayonnaise. Perhaps both.

<Well, if nothing else,> Malcolm thought to himself, <he's safe for now.>

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Devi blinked in surprise. "What do you mean, 'revenge'?"

The gravelly voice of Sickness chuckled lightly before apparently choking on its own mirth. It quickly recovered, continuing, <Oh, I think you know who I mean. You may not know that much about how my kind work, but I can tell you that once we've swallowed someone's mind, we know where they're at, forevermore... and we know where someone is that I know you'd love to see again, if for no other reason than to choke the living daylights out of him.>

A shiver went up Devi's spine, but she tried her best to ignore it. "Who?"

<He was so kind to you until the end, wasn't he? We know where he is right at this moment, Devi... he's finally ended up in the hospital, so there'd be absolutely no resistance. And what's more, we know he's asleep right now...>

Devi didn't ask, as much as she spat out the name: "Johnny?"

The voice drifted on in her ears, almost taking on a sing-song quality. <If you let me go, I could arrange it so you could sneak into his dream, sharing it, if you will. You could do whatever you want, and then I could take over from there. My kind have already once burrowed our holes into
his brain, and we know exactly where in his mind to bite to make him hurt the most...>

The voice paused, and Devi could almost feel the doll looking at her, even though the veins once hanging from its empty eyes had long crusted over.

<Now, doesn't that sound like fun?>

The voice paused as Devi gave her response.

<Ooh. Oh, I like that smile...>

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Johnny finally opened his eyes, reaching up to shield them from the light as he moaned groggily. Where was he now? He wasn't feeling the pain he remembered as being so all-consuming such a short while ago... there was a familiar smell in the air-- was it perfume? He couldn't quite place it, but the deja-vu effect from it made him even more disoriented.

He cautiously lifted up one hand, then the other, to see...

----what the hell?!

It was his old living-room, ironic as the name was for the piles of bodies that had met their end below this ground-level of the rickety shack Nny'd once called 'home.'

He was only allowed a mere moment to gape at this unexpected shift in time before he heard a small cough, the kind that the few, more polite humans out there would use to get someone's attention. Nny's gaze jerked over towards the source of the sound, as he instinctively wondered if he was allowed any weapons in this current reality.

An even greater shock met his eyes as he saw who he was sharing the couch with.

"D--Devi?! What are..." Johnny began, then absent-mindedly ran his fingers through his hair, mumbling to the green-haired girl before him (that's right, he thought-- it had been green then, hadn't it?), "I'm sorry... If I just dozed off, I've just had the longest dream I would've thought was
possible in a few seconds."

Devi forced a smile, wavering between her gut instinct of bolting the hell away from this room and her curiosity at how Johnny might have changed since they'd last met. Though the latter burned impatiently in her thoughts, forced along by Sickness's growling mental reminder that it wanted this meeting to be ended as soon as possible, Devi still flinched when Nny turned to look directly at her. He had kept his almost predatorial way of staring at people, she noted, though there was something different-- something muted-- colder, perhaps, than the gaze she had remembered.

Devi was so involved with mentally dissecting Nny's current mannerisms that she almost didn't hear him when he asked, "Do you remember what we were just talking about?"

"Oh, just... about..." Devi paused. What had they been talking about before he'd attacked her? The incident itself had burned itself into her brain for all these years, but it took a moment of thought to dredge up what else had taken place. "--the movie we saw tonight! 'Brazil'... I love that film."

"Yes, I agree-- Gilliam is God, when it comes to movies..." Nny replied, still a bit preoccupied with looking around the living room before him, as if it might swirl into something different at any moment. "What can I say, though? Tonight was great... you always had-- HAVE! ...Have. A way of making me happy. I thank you for that."

“So... let’s both be happy.”

Devi leaned forward slightly towards Nny, who (after a few seconds of confused awkwardness) leaned closer as well. Their faces nearly met...

...and Johnny stopped, drawing back sharply.

Devi’s eyes widened at his familiar response. <That bastard! ...Is he just going to try killing me again after all?!>

Johnny lowered his head, his eyes pained. “I-- I can’t... If you’re asking me to do what I think you are, I just can’t...”

Devi stared at him, confused. “Can’t do what?”

“Kiss you... or whatever else you were thinking. I-- I can’t let myself get that close to you... I promised you, over the phone. I don’t want to get close enough, because then I know I’ll be grasping for a happiness I just can’t ever reach.”

He leaned back against the couch, letting his legs dangle from the cushion. “There was someone... a person I met, not long ago. He made me realize how ugly it could sound for my own fucked-up excuses to be tossed back into my face,” he said, closing his eyes to shield a bitter memory from being replayed before them. “I know you don’t want to be hurt anymore, and I don’t want to hurt you like I did. For someone who made me so happy before... well, that’s the least I can do now.”

Nny seemed so overwhelmed in his own thoughts that he was actually startled to feel Devi’s hand turn his face towards hers. She looked him in the eyes for a few moments. <He actually sounded sincere just then,> she thought.

<Devi? What are you waiting for?! Let me at ‘im!!> Sickness’s impatient voice snapped from inside Devi’s mind.

<Just wait a minute. This is the last time I’ll get to see him, you said! Give me a while yet,> Devi said silently to the beast.

Devi could hear a disappointed <hmph...> from inside her head, but paid it no heed. “Why are you so sure it won’t last?” she asked Nny.

“Well... to begin with, I don’t think I’m repeating time right now. I’ve had some pretty damn weird stuff happen to me before, but I doubt it would get this surreal unless I was dreaming.” Devi blinked in surprise, but listened as Johnny continued.

“Second, if it is a dream, it’ll just end eventually anyway, and I’m not sure I would want to remember anything this hopeful if it just ENDED, just like that. I don’t even know if I’d remember it after I woke up. And third, if it isn’t a dream, there’s the odd chance that there might be very unpleasant consequences from tonight. Anywhere from guilt to... well...” He blushed, fidgeting his fingers against each other. “...Kids. And I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”

"Kids?" Devi said with a smirk. "You're a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Johnny shifted uncomfortably, returning his gaze to the floor. "Well, actually, I'm not altogether sure how it works. The baby thing. Never tried it, myself. I'm scared to try anything involving my body lately."

"Oh..." Devi answered, not quite sure what a proper response to that sort of revelation would be. Still, she continued, a new idea forming in her mind. Remembering the giddy grin she'd flash back when she and Johnny had exchanged jokes, she tried her best to copy the expression and nudged Nny playfully on his shoulder. "Heh. I was going to say... I mean, if you came up with plans that quickly, heck-- you might be trying to kill me next!"

"...k..kill you?" Johnny stammered, sounding like a little kid who'd just been caught over a pan of brownies. He fell silent for a moment, then continued, softly but with grave seriousness. "No. I couldn't do that. Not to you. I--" He paused, drawing in a pensive breath. "Don't ask how I know this, because I'm still trying to figure out what that whole dream I just had meant. But I have the feeling that if I tried to harm you, I'd be regretting it for the rest of my life-- falling over my feet trying to figure out why I'd ever wanted to, and never managing to apologize coherently anyway."

A long silence passed as Devi thought this over. She finally asked him, softly, “What if I told you it was a dream?”

Nny chuckled, though the laugh was bitter. “I’m usually not sure anyway.”

Devi paused, then moved closer to Johnny. “Well...” she asked, “If you knew this was the last time we could see each other, what would you do?”

She held her breath as she waited for an answer.

Their eyes met again. “What would you do?” Nny asked.

Devi smiled. “Are you sure you want an answer?”

Johnny averted his eyes and sighed. “Well, I tried to make the decisions last time...”

He listened as Devi 'hmm'ed once, softly-- and suddenly felt something slide onto his hand. Almost panicking, he turned his head...

---oh my gosh it's her hand she's holding my *hand!!*

Devi chuckled at the bewildered grin that was now plastered across Nny's face. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Silence. Nny looked like he might cry for joy at any moment, though; Devi wondered if she had been the only person who'd touched him since all those years ago...

"I may not have had the best luck in the world, Johnny... but I have run away from an awful lot of chances, because I thought they'd end badly. I can tell you: the worst things I can remember are all the months and years that marched by 'cause I was too afraid to try for anything else."

Devi paused to lift Johnny's hand up, clasping it in both of hers. Smiling sarcastically to herself, she added, "Not that memories of having a date explode like a shit-filled firecracker are exactly
pleasant, but it's more interesting than staring at a wall, I guess."

Looking up, she saw that Nny was still staring at her hands, a tiny scribble of a grin on his face. As if he noticed her watching him, he said, "Ah-- yes, I've been listening to you. I just... I..." He sucked in a quick breath through his teeth. "I've missed you so much..."

An angry growl from Sickness jarred Devi's mind. <Yeah, yeah, I'm hurrying up,> she thought back, silently glad that Sickness was too weak to be a threat during this encounter.

"So...” she continued, smiling warmly at Johnny, "Were there any memories you wanted to rewrite?"

Johnny only sighed, his mellow face becoming tense. Devi could feel him clench his hand from within her grasp. "I-- I'm sorry. If that's what you mean. Why? What did you..."

To his surprise, as soon as he'd said "sorry," Devi's smile widened, and she...

---she's got her arms around me what's she doing?!

"Apology accepted," Devi said. Upon seeing how shocked Nny appeared, she giggled softly, adding, "...And it's called 'a hug,' if you've never heard of it before. Kind of like a kiss."

Johnny's face was, at this point, flushed bright red.

---don't get too close... you don't know what might happen--

He forced a sheepish smile. "Dare I ask what that is?"

Devi grinned. "Don't worry. It doesn't hurt too much," she teased, leaning closer.

...A quick peck on Johnny's forehead...

<Sickness bristles.>

...and one more, one that lingers on his cheek...

---this is *bad* this is being *weak* this is giving *in* this-- this is-- oh but this is *wonderful*

Nny leans gently towards Devi, a low, pleased sound rolling from his throat. The kiss lasts only a few seconds, but it feels like... forever...

---ahh-- no! no no not this *now!!* please don't spoil this with THAT!

Suddenly, Devi pauses; Johnny's voice has just squeaked-- a gasp-- he's moaning now...

<What happened? Is he hurt? Is.... oh... I see. Wow... just by kissing him? He must've been deprived.>

Nny trembles, blinking back a tear. "I-- I'm sorry... I didn't mean to--"

Sickness growls, <But I do.>

<Wait! ...Sickness, what's going on? What are you-->

<You've had your fun, Devi. Now it's my turn to play.>

Devi's body trembled, as if a blast of cold air had hit it. Seconds later, there was only a sense of floating in thick air, as if Sickness had somehow plunged Devi's mind into a Jell-O fog. She thrashed helplessly through this mist as she saw Johnny and a second form sitting there on the couch; this second form would have looked like Devi at first, if not for one obvious feature.

Still trying to blink away his tears, Johnny turned to the girl next to him. "D..Devi? What happened to your eyes...?"

Twin screws stared back at Nny from his would-be companion's face. A malicious, metal-sharp voice replied, "There's nothing wrong with my eyes, Johnny C... In fact, I'm feeling quite wonderful indeed..."

Nny's eyes snapped open in shock. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he'd heard that voice before... The confusion battered against his brain. But the Doughboys were gone... or were they? Was he really back in this point in time for good?!

His attention suddenly turned to the figure next to him. It could no longer be called human anymore. As his panic grew, it seemed to warp all the faster; twin scythes spiked forth from its head, and thorny needles began brushing out along its insectoid body.

Devi shuddered as the monster grabbed hold of Johnny's face and-- there could be no other word for it-- began to melt, covering him in a second skin, accompanied all the while by Nny's terrified screams. She couldn't help wondering, even as Johnny began shrieking like a dying rabbit, if what she was seeing was what Sickness would have become, if Devi hadn't gotten rid of it in time...

She kicked and struggled futilely in her foggy prison for some time before falling silent and giving up. <This is what you wanted to do to Johnny, you know,> she told herself... but as she watched the Sickness-beast engulf itself over Nny's body (or was it his mind?) like something out of a horror movie, she found no joy in what should have been her triumph. Covering her ears, all she could do now was hope that the whole mess would end soon...

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When Dr. Malcolm finally opened the door, he was glad to see that he wasn’t the one who’d have to deal with the patient first. A terrified-looking junior nurse was trying desperately to calm down Mr. C, who was by now flailing around, incoherently screaming at the top of his lungs. Malcolm shook his head slightly as he looked closer... the massive patch of dark red that could be seen through his pants only meant more work for the other doctors-- if he wasn’t unlucky enough to have to operate on the patient himself...

A quick dose of sedative calmed Mr. C down quickly enough to be able to stop thrashing around, though his voice was still muffled by tears. Malcolm quickly paged the doctor who’d operated on Mr. C on the night he first came to the hospital; as soon as it was confirmed she was on her way, the patient seemed calm enough to talk.

“See now, Mr. C, this is what I told you about before,” Malcolm commented, now that he was more assured that Mr. C could hear him. He gestured towards the patient's stained clothes. “It’d be much easier for you if you simply agreed to wear the hospital gown while you’re here,” the doctor said, instinctually using the calmer voice he reserved for the more... ‘disturbed’ members of the ward.

The patient refused to look at him, but simply stared at the blood from his reopened wound before mumbling through his tears, “Ruined...”

“I agree. You probably won’t ever be able to wear those clothes again.”

“No... not... I..... I didn’t dream anything,” Mr. ‘C’ said, closing his eyes once more before shakily wiping the tears from his eyes and staring coldly ahead of him.

The haggard, bloodied man repeated that phrase again, but just the look on his face made Dr. Malcolm shudder despite himself.

“I didn’t dream anything.”

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...And Devi awoke, a sharp, bitter taste in her mouth. The images of what she'd just seen were still clear in her mind; she quickly called out to the empty room, "Sickness? Are you still there?"

There was silence for a moment... before Devi heard a thick, burbling whisper of a voice respond from what felt like the back of her mind. <You miss me already? I'm flattered.>

Devi scowled, even though nothing was in the room that would see the expression. "Knock it off. I just want to know if I still have to put up with you, that's all," she shot back to the voice.

<Oh, no... no, we're quite separated now. I thank you for the opportunity to meet your boyfriend face to face... Now I know why that Doughboy fellow he was with wanted to stay in his mind for so long!> The sentence was punctuated by a throaty, satisfied slurp. <So delicious...>

"You didn't have to end it like that. He actually didn't seem all that bad, now," Devi said, wincing at the memory of Johnny's horrific screams.

The voice chuckled. <Silly girl. Haven't you heard that no one wins when they make deals with the devil? As a matter of fact, I'll be sure to pass on a good mention to my friends about that skeleton-doll your... festive acquaintance treasures so.>

With harsh acid in her voice, Devi growled back, "You stay the HELL away from Tenna, Sickness! You hear me?! Don't you DARE--"

<Well, if you're just going to be rude, I think I'll leave.>

So saying, the room returned to its silence. Devi heard nothing but the thick shutters against the window flapping softly against the glass.

Devi wrung the ponytail rings out of her hair in frustration, one after the other, furious but unsure if she could do anything to stop the beast. After all, if such beings may have twisted her fate in relationships for over five years, the chances didn't look good that she could just clout some sort of monster over the head and make everything better again. Devi knew full well life was never that easy.

"Fuck..." she muttered to the walls. Letting loose a weary sigh, she walked over to her phone and sat down in the chair next to it. She wasn't sure who it would be-- Tenna? Johnny? The police?-- but she had a feeling she'd be getting a call from someone very soon.


*END*