'Ah-hah…oh, oh hell I…Snerk.'
'I suppose not, then.'
'I'm wet. It's wet. I think I am soaked.'
'It's raining. You're lying on the sidewalk.'
'Am I? Ah-heh-heh.'
'You seem rather hysterical. Should I call a doctor?'
'Rrrrrrrrrr-no. I'm all empty inside anyway.'
'Ah…Come on. Up then, come on, up with you.'
'Augh, oh, oh, son of a bitch…Hah-hah, oh, my knee is broken, eh-heh.'
'How did you break it, oh, come on, lean on me.'
'Someone broke it, obviously, are you touched?'
'You are touching me, but I don't suppose that's what you mean.'
'You've lost your pathetic plastic thing that was keeping you from getting wet. I'm very wet.'
'Oh…I'm about to make an awful gurgling sound…I'm going to be sick…please put me back on the ground.'
'Oh…oh, by all…never mind…the shoes were old.'
'I warned you, heh, waaaarned you!'
'Come on, you need attention.'
'Yes, yes, I do. Will you punch me in the stomach? I would quite like that…'
'Of course I won't.'
'Rrrrrrrrr—ow. I'm going to cry now, dry little tears of sand!'
'What are you? bugger! Watch your step!'
"Eeee! I am absolutely all wet! Look at me dripping! Premeditated dripping.'
'Insane. That's all there is to it. Wonderful, we're here. Inside, inside, watch the step! Bugger.'
'Ah-hah, oh, kind sir, your floor is so very comfortable! Eh-eh-heh, my…oh, that's me bleeding. Nnn-heh, ow. Oh, god…'
'There you are vomiting again…Come on, out of the way of the door, the hall is getting wet.'
'Caaaaan't have that. Rrrrrrrr-oo-rruuuin the wood, wouldn't it? My leg's numb…'
'Here's a basin, retch as you please.'
'I'm bleeding on your precious hallway.'
'It'll leave a unique stain.'
'Conversation piece! Urghk.'
'Ah, that's…what is that? That's awful.'
'Nnn-eeee-heee! Taaaastes glurk vile.'
'Mmm, I…no. Not really. Ughl. There…yes. Y-eeee-ssss.'
'Right, we'll lie you down on the couch…Yes, bring the basin along.'
'Rrrrrrrrrrr-ooo, mmm-heh-heh! Right!'
'You sound rather like a frog, you realize…There you are. Dear me, you're wet…yes, you said that. Do you want a change of clothes? A blanket, I'll get the fire going…'
'No, sir, I will not strip for you.'
'That's not what I…There you are with that insipid giggling again. You, sir, are quite mad.'
'I am! I am mad and I am wet and I am injured and I am empty. My knee is broken and is now bleeding on your lovely couch! Oh, what's this? Rrrr-loooooks like eeeee-heee-ah-hah! Seen its fair share of blood! Is it a blood sucking couch? Does it take souls!'
'I am right beside you, there is no need to shout, I will—'
'There is a need to shout! Augh!'
'I'll get the first aid kit.'
'You smell all magically…magic…of which you are smelling…Pungent. Yes. Odor-if-fer-ous. Hmm-heh-heh.'
'I…all right. This will hurt, your knee is rather, hmm, shattered, it is. Lord. How did you do this?'
'I didn't do it!'
'What? Couldn't hear y—Oh! Hell! No! Ow! Gods! No! No!'
'Ack! You set me on fire. You do realize that don't you?'
'Rrrrrrrr-ooo-cks. That's what your brain is like! Rocks! Oh, oh, aaach-oo. Ugh, I'm wet and you're singed. Oh, it smells. Heh-heh!'
'You set me ablaze!'
'To be completely fair and all that, I didn't mean to set you on fire.'
'No, I think you did. If, in your flailing and screaming from pain you had hit me and I had toppled backwards into the fireplace, which is actually across the room, then it would have been an accident. You, you, had flames popping about all willy-nilly from your fingertips! I have brought home a mad pyrokinetic! I am absolutely daft what was I thinking? You're right! My brain is rather like rocks!'
'You're babbling and I'm wet. Ee-hee-hee! I'm going to take my clothes off now. Do you have any lighter fluid I can drink? I mean…alcohol.'
'No. Definitely not. I will get you a robe. …You set me on fire.'
'I can still hear your mumbling! Aaaugh, I am wet, absolutely wet! That is no way for me to be!'
'Here, put this on and be quiet and…Why are you all bloodied up and beaten? You've got a great gash through your chest! You might've thought to mention that!'
'M'knee was broken. Shattered even. Booze?'
'No, no, and have I mentioned my disinclination to acquiesce to your request?'
'I'm a dying man! I am all empty like inside. Could you not indulge me, just this once, and then I shall forever more be out of your –heh-heh, purely metaphorical hair, seeing as I just burned a great deal of it off. Accidently, snerk, mind you.'
'Pardon me, I do believe there is a straightjacket somewhere in this house. All the inbreeding from the previous owners…plenty of loonies, I shall find it…'
'Waaait! You crazy, soggy, slightly singed, man! Don't leaaaaaave me!'
'I'm going to kiss you.'
'You will do no such thing.'
'Rrrrr-ooo-rude! First you deny me my vices, my dear lighter fluid…and then you refuse to let me stick my tongue in your mouth? What passes for manners in this place?'
'I…I cannot even conceive what kind of response that should receive.'
'That was a response, but that's alright. There are many like you, my touched, rock-brained friend.'
'No, no. Not friends. You are a mad thing I picked up off the street. I shall take you to the shelter and have you put down immediately. You might have rabies.'
'Hahah-hah…oh, dear. That…no. I've got my shots. Now, hold veeery still, for you have a large spider on your shoulder, ah…I've got it…Got you! Mmm. Hmmm, you taste delicious. But the shoving was a bit much.'
'You kissed me, you daft bugger.'
'You believed the lie about the spider. You taste like him.'
'All…empty and sad. He tastes like steel and you taste like copper…but it's still all metallic on my tongue…We can rrrrrrrrrrrr-ooooo, augh! We're all empty together. Funny how…'
'There is nothing funny. Nothing funny. There is only madness in this house at this time. You, you, are absolutely…'
'You haven't thrown me out yet. Hee! You think I'm fascinating and you want to know all about the blood I'm spilling on your couch and you think my eyes are dancing with fevered glee or something equally ridiculous, you seem the poetic type…'
'…Your eyes are not dancing but your skin has a strange, ashen pallor and your hair is rather limp and soggy, which does not detract from the ferociousness of its shade, not in the least.'
'Hah-hah! Ooooh, you sound so reluctant to admit it, I'm about to kiss you again. Your mouth makes me all squirmy!'
'That sounds like a rather personal problem…Why am I letting a madman kiss me? I must be mad. You're contagious.'
'Sssshhh, course I am. I am like a disease. Rrrrrrr-he told me that once.'
'Shut up. Here comes the kissing. Ah, yes, there we are! Mmmm.'
'Why do you hum when you kiss people?'
'Why do you try to speak while kissing someone?'
'Heee-hee! You're right, that does sound funny!'
'Who is the mysterious he that I taste so much like?'
'My-my…Rrrrrrrr-ooooooo. Nnnnn. Him. He. Mine. Gone and the empty….I am bleeeeeeeding out, but I'm not going to die from it! Vexen found that out! Oh, the experimentations! Never have I had better drugs in all of my short, empty, pathetic little life.'
'You really are quite out of your head, lie down, don't fight me, lie down.'
'Pet my head, mister, yes, right like that!'
'Hmm, my…he. He…enjoyed that.'
'Birds of a fucking feather, ain't we?'
'Ain't is not a word and you will not say it in my presence.'
'Don't stooooop! The petting, the petting!'
'Good lord, are you going to cry?'
'Yes! Teaaars, salty like the endless seeeea! Waaaater waaaater ev-er-y-wheeere and not a drop of gin for me to drink!'
'The last thing you need is to become inebriated, I assure you.'
'So, your man-thing. He wasn't half so handsome as I. Was he? Hmmm? Heh-heh.'
'I…will you light me on fire again if I don't agree?'
'No. I have no interest in you, you silly, empty man. I want only my Rrrrrr…Why can't I saaay it?'
'Dear me, you really are crying now.'
'Pet the hair! Pet it! It sounds like rocks, you know.'
'What sounds like rocks?'
'Snerk. Listen to yourself, carrying on a conversation with a crazy bleeding thingy-ma-bobber!'
'You're a thingy-ma-bobber?'
'Indeed. I am sort of, not really, a man-thing. I have the man-thing appendage, but it really does me no good because I am empty.'
'Sort of. No. Yes. No. I think…no. There…I am a not a thing.'
'What was it that sounded like rocks?'
'His name sounds like rocks. Of course, that makes perfect sense.'
'What is your name?'
'Well, it, I am sad to say, does not sound like rocks.'
'Sad? Oh, you've fallen in love with me, haven't you? You poor, empty, fleshy thing you. Singed. Oh, I have to vomit, basin? Haha! Floor! Ghurhkle.'
'That is awful. A terrible sight to behold. You, sir, are a sad, sad crazy little creature.'
'Aren't I taller than you?'
'Liar, lying magic-y thing! Pet my damn hair.'
'You smell of vomit and blood, I do not really want your head in my lap.'
'Too bad. Pet me-hee-hee.'
'Impetuous. Yes, you must be Sirius reincarnated, come back to torment me, because of course he couldn't bear to leave me all alone with myself.'
'Are you talking about masturbating? That is not a good topic for civilized company.'
'No, really, I am not.'
'Your man-thing? Your virile, fertile man-thing? His name was Sirius? I imagine he smelled of something pleasant like gasoline, didn't he?'
'No, he smelled of dog. Your hair smells of gasoline, now my hands smell of gasoline…You should shower.'
'Never. I shall rub my stench all over you! Your couch will never forget me! It does steal souls! Augh!'
'Madness. I can pick you up. Actually, I shall, and I shall take you upstairs and—'
'Ack! Down! Put me down! Unless you're taking me upstairs to make sweet, sweet love to me, in which case I must decline, have a missus waiting for me, well…not really. We separated, wound is too fresh, really…Oh, god! You are strong. You look all stringy and fleshy and not terribly tasty, though your mouth says to the contrary.'
'I sincerely hope that you will not remember this encounter in the future, otherwise I imagine you will die from being so embarrassed with yourself.'
'Ah-heh-hah! I imagine I will. That…augh! That water is cold, it's cold! I do not like cold! Ergh!'
'You just evaporated half the water. The other half is boiling, are you burnt? Oh, I don't care. You did the fire exploding thing again, please control yourself. You caught my jumper on fire…bugger.'
'Sorry. Accident, really, heh-heh.'
'Sit here and soak. I am going to put on dry clothes…'
'I am wet! Flames! Flurry of Dancing Flames, I should not be wet! Noooo, save me! Wait. Wait, my knee is no longer broken…But it…ow, it hurts! My leg is numb! No! I shall now flail like a little girl! Save me! Man overboard! I need a towel! Heeeelp!'
'Stop that, the bathroom is sopping now.'
'Hah-hah-hah! I conquer you and your wretched bathroom! What are you doing with that cloth? No! Now I smell like a flower. What is wrong with you, man? I am not manly like this! Not that I'm terribly manly at all, look at these scrawny little bird bones. Delicate wrists, see how delicate they are?'
'…Yes. Put your head under the water.'
'No. No, I refuse, no, don't put my—gurgle.'
'You are now acceptably clean.'
'You are a sick man. Sick.'
'Come on, I'll give you a towel and some pajamas. Then I'm putting you to sleep.'
'You're going to kill me? I should have known! Oh, the fickle kindness of a strange smelling man, who reminds me of my dear bone-headed rock-boy!'
'Literal sleep. In a bed. Where one usually sleeps, until morning? Are you familiar with this concept?'
'Not in the least.'
'Come, it will be quite the experience for you.'
'Heh, your teeth are rather sharp…Would you bite my neck with them?'
'Please? They're all fang-y, they look like they might hurt.'
'I'm sure they would. Stop, stop squirming or I will drop you, Mr. Recently Broken Knee.'
'Thought you'd fixed that.'
'Don't pout, healing is not instantaneous. It will be fine by morning. Now, tell me about this strange rock-boy of yours.'
'He's blond, sort of…not really. He's all empty, so he's not terribly colorful. His hair is like…like…silver, sort of, dull and…his eyes are blue…dull…yeah…I…his skin is perfectly white though. Whiter than snow and whiter than alabaster and whiter the clouds and porcelain…He's the most perfectly white thing I've ever seen. Whiter than your big pointy teeth…Are you a wolf? Ah-hah! Did you eat little red riding hood?'
'Oh. Are you really a wolf? That's why you smell odd. That's nice, bite me please? That would be fun, I could go home and be a wolf at all times of the day…All we've got is the moon. Very pretty, but very boring after a while…Bite me, Fabio!'
'You should sleep…'
'Don't pull that wand out at me! You must tell me about your Sirius! Very serious matter, snerk.'
'He's dead, I don't see how it much matters. Is your rock-boy dead?'
'No. He's gone. He's been taken away and I'm probably never going to see him again, but I'm going to try anyway. I'm so empty inside. I need to see him again, I'm going to kill the brat what took him!'
'Do you love this strange rock-boy, whose name you can't say?'
'I can say it! Rrrrrrrrr-ooock….damn it. I can!'
'Do you love him.'
'So calm you are…No. I don't! I don't love him because I'm all empty inside…I can live without my blood and I think you can too. Ever tried it? A miserable feeling that.'
'No, I need my blood. But…I know what you mean all the same. I've felt that way for most of my life.'
'I'm a nothing, nobody. I'm not good. Isn't it funny how there's two of us and we still amount to a big nothing? I don't understand that. There's…nothing and nada. Hee-hee, naaaadaaa.'
'I hope you find your rock-boy.'
'I won't. I won't. They told me I wouldn't. I told him not to go, you know? I told him and he didn't listen. He never listened to anyone. Ungrateful whelp is what he was! We took care of him and I pretended to love him. That means something! All the lying and…he cheated on me, you know? With this terrible boy named Riku and this witch named Naminé.'
'I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like to sleep now?'
'No, no, tell me your name, my savior. I probably won't remember it on the morrow, but, by the by, it's the right thing to do.'
'Remus. I'm Remus Lupin.'
'Remus Lupin? Lovely. I'd lock it away in my heart but I ain't got one!'
'What did I tell you about using such terrible grammar?'
'I'm declaring my non-existent love for you and you're correcting my grammar?'
'Yes. Feel free to continue now.'
'I lied. I lie a lot. I…hmm. I want him. I want him back. I don't care about you, I'm sorry. You've been terribly nice to me considering my currently level of psychotic dementia and verbal diarrhea. Will you laugh for me once I'm dead?'
'I do believe I will. What name shall I mutter in-between my hysterical giggling?'
'Oh, no, haha! No giggling. Just…snicker or something.'
'I'm Axel. Awful name. You can call me Pierre instead. I find that name so much better suited to me, what do you think? Hmmm? You adore Pierre, I know you do! Snerk.'
'I like Axel.'
'Hmmm. I don't…it has that stupid x in it. Like all those other stupid names of all those other stupid people. Saïx beat me up, you know? Smashed my knee with that stupid sword of his…Dumb thing looks like a paddle. S'rather sick if you think about it…Bet he takes that paddle to Demyx's ass sometimes…His name sounds like that too…'
'Mmm, my boy-thing. Mine, mine…'
'I thought it sounded like rocks?'
'The, ah-hah, ass comes after the rocks.'
'Yes. It's all r-o-x-a-s, with the spelling, you see.'
'Well, you better sleep so you'll be able to get Roxas back.'
'You're lonely. Do you want me to stay and make you happy?'
'You've got something else to do.'
'Can't do it. I'm just going to die. I don't want to die. I just want him back. Convince me to stay. I'll pretend to love you. You can use a love potion on me and I'll pretend it's worked. I'll pretend to be him, just for you. Just tell me what to do.'
'No, I've accepted that Sirius is dead. You can remind me of him by being daft and doggy all you like, but I don't want him back. Necrophilia isn't really socially acceptable, even for werewolves..'
'I'm going to make a lovely corpse.'
'That you will. You're already all empty and everything.'
'So are you.'
'Been like this as long as I can remember.'
'Most pointless conversation I've ever had. Infectious, crazy, bugger. Got me talking to myself while you snore away…I could sit here and watch you…otherwise I'll bet you'll have slipped off in the night.'
And he did.
Remus didn't really know what it was to be completely empty until he met that crazy, daft, bugger on that rainy Tuesday.
Waking up Wednesday morning to find the empty bed…He hoped Axel found his Rocks-ass. And if not…he gave a little snigger, just in case. Or maybe he was hysterical in his loneliness.
Didn't matter, he was wet and all empty inside...and considering drinking lighter fluid.