I do not own JTHM, i cry.

recalling a dream it was really a dream i had...

Devi swept the corridor listening to 'Ode to Joy'. She had been working at the Insane Asylum for almost a year.

She had got this job to stay away from Johnny thinking it was the last place she'd see him. But all that hope had been drowned when, a couple of weeks later, she had seen him been dragged unconscious into a padded cell.

Whenever she pasted the cell he would try talking to her. She would leave instantly, soon hearing him screaming 'I'm sorry!'

Not long after a very little boy, whom Johnny knew, was assigned and placed in the cell Johnny was in. Johnny was moved to the staff bathroom.

Who put people in bathrooms anyway? Devi placed her hand on the door. It had been a couple of days since she had stoped the guards from watching Johnny as she cleaned in there.

He would just sit and watch, glancing at the guards nervously in fear that if he moved at all they would nock him unconscious.

He hate sleep, he had always said so.

Now, whenever she came in he would start writing in his diary in a corner.

She sighed and opened the door.

"Nny?" She whispered, "Nny, are you there?"

Duh! She mentally slapped herself. She frowned, then again, knowing him.

There was no answer. "Nny".

She flicked the light on. In the room was a sink, mirror (smashed since Johnny came), a door to the toilet and closest to the door was a large bathtub.

The shower curtains were drawn all the way around the tub concealing whatever was inside.

"Nny?" She could hear the quiet breathing of someone laying in the tub.

She pulled the curtain back.

There lay Johnny C. curled in a ball, his face stuffed in a pillow the end Devi stood.

He moaned quietly as she hesitatingly stroked his head.

He was still wearing the clothes that he was in when they bought him here.

They had all been too terrified to touch him again.

Deep purple, long sleeved shirt, black tights and his long black boots.

She sat down next to his head taking away her hand.

# # #

It was their first and late date.

"What would you do if you lost your ability to paint?" asked Nny. He was laying on the hood of his car, Devi was on the roof.

"I would go insane," she smiled, "there would be nothing left for me." She looked down at the city from the cliff they were parked on.

"Oh," He looked sad.

# # #

Devi sighed. He had been trying to hint her. She remembered being in his house where there were scary yet brilliant paintings on the walls. He had said he had done them but doesn't know how to do them any more.

She remembered how she had hated yet missed him after the tempted murder of his.

He had been the one human in the world that she had really liked and could talk to relatively.

She knew it was all too good to be true.

She saw the little black book he owned on the ledge of the tub. She flickered through the pages and saw they were only covered in word. All addressed to Dear Die-ary.

There occasionally were some smiley faces and diagrams, but that's as far as pictures go. She read the last entry.

Dear Die-ary,

Today Devi came by (as always).

But she seemed less…tense. Which made it all the better to see her and her more beautiful. I miss talking to her, but I'm afraid that if I do she'll leave like when I was in that other (proper) cell.

I drew a picture of her, it took me four days to finish but. I think my ability of art is coming back.

Nny.

A picture? She frowned. She flipped the page and gasped. There was a beautiful picture of her. It was so detailed it looked like a photo but more stunning.

She stared at it in a trance not noticing her hand fall down and lay lightly on Nnys forearm.

As soon as they made contact his hand snapped around and grabbed hers.

Devi jumped and choked back a scream. She store at him with wide eyes wondering what is to happen next.

Nny stirred unconsciously but his breathing became even, indicating he was still asleep. He held her hand tightly yet gently. He started to moan into his pillow.

She leaned down to listen, lightly brushing back the hair on his face that was showing.

"D…. Devi…. Devi.." he moaned over and over. She sat back, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

Her face relaxed as she smiled. She shifted herself to a more comfortable position, deciding to stay with him while he was asleep.

She closed her eyes listening to him sleep talk.

"Devi," he then winced. Why was that? "I love you."

Devi smiled, she gently squeezed his hand.

"I know," she whispered.

END