Disclaimer time:

I do not own I feel sick or any of it's characters I do not own Squee or any of its characters. I do not own Johnny the blah, blah blah...you know general disclaimer stuff. If I butcher Jhonen's characters...j-just dont say anything, kay? okay! Let's begin!

The night was clear and beautiful. At this hour it seemed to be a shade of deep purple with a cream colored moon. The moon was full it shined down on to a psychiatric hospital. Even in the darkness the sign out front was still visible and easily read, "obnoxious battle card addicts no longer admitted (please just shoot them in the head save us the trouble)" On a night as lovely as this most inmates still awake had one thought on their minds. Freedom. Or maybe how they lost theirs.

In the woman's ward a girl of approximately 23 sat in the corner of her padded room. Her head was hung low. Her short light purple hair was pulled into two pigtails and now had jet-black roots creeping out from her scalp. She wore the female patient outfit. A plain purplish white shirt that had ripped off sleeves and matching loose fit pants and white socks. Her elbows rested on her knees and her scarred fingers twitched. How she longed for a paintbrush. As an inmate at the hospital she was allowed paint once a week. That was not acceptable. This girl, Devi was born to paint it was the only thing holding the screws in. though it seemed most screws had already fallen out, but she would keep fighting.

"Gotta keep the screws in, gotta keep them in…" she leaned her head back and fingered the plastic band around her bone thing wrist. How had she gotten here? She knew how, it had only happened about a month ago but felt like a year.

Flash back

Devi frowned at her work. She pushed a strand of purple hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. The hair had escaped her pigtails while she had been ferociously painting. Devi had driven up to the hills over looking the city. The town was at its best when you weren't forced to interact with its inhabitants. It was dusk and the setting sun made the city appear to be on fire, so that's what the artist painted. It was a great painting using reds and blues to show the intense flames.

To make all the idiots disappear in a puff of smoke but it was wrong. It wasn't the colors and it wasn't the picture. Something had been wrong with her paintings for the past week or so. At least she was still painting. The pictures still poured from the brush, even if it wasn't her best.

"That's greaaat," a nearly lecherous voice whispered behind her. Devi spun around to find her self face to face with her old boss. She yelped in surprise. This was a guy she had hoped to never encounter again. He was a creepy little man with his light gray skin, empty eyes, lobotomy scar, and sinister grin.

"What…" she stepped back putting distance between them, "…do you want, Mr. Nerves?"

"Well," he said taking a step closer to her maintaining that same uncomfortably close proximity, "Lately we've been losing artists left and right, suicide, suicide, arrested for murder, suicide, got thrown from a window after-. Well how and why they left or died does not mater. What matters is you. We want you to work for us again. To join us…" she glared at him and turned to her paints she began cleaning up and gathering her things.

"What part about me calling you a crazy brainless asshole and quitting didn't you get? I'm not going to work for you again! Not now, not ever! So you can just find another artist who has no problem with losing their sanity because I just got a hold on mine and I don't plan on giving it up that quickly!" she threw her paint jars and brushes into the passenger seat.

"You're giving up a great opportunity! Think of your future! Nerves publishing can help take care of you."

"Yeah, just stop there. I've heard enough. You have no idea what I did the last time I heard that pitch. So just stop," she loaded the easel in to the back seat and popped the trunk. Gently she set the freshly painted canvas inside only vaguely aware that Mr. Nerves was still talking. All she could hear was a buzzing sound. She guessed he was probably still trying to talk her into the job he fallowed her as she circled the car to the driver's seat. She swung the door open and dropped into the vehicle. He was still talking. Devi glared down him, her eye twitched with rage.

"No, no, no! Kay? Just no!" she slammed the door. And threw the car into reverse. She stopped and put it in to drive. Mr. Nerves ran in front of the car. He stretched his arms out and gripped the sides of the hood. His mouth was still running on full speed.

"Mr. Nerves get out of the way!" he shook his head and continued to talk. She narrowed her eyes, "I'm not going to tell you again MOVE!"

"Push your foot down." Some thing whispered in devi's ear.

"No, I wont. I wont do it. I'm not going to hurt him! I'll get him to move." Slowly her fingers tightened around the steering wheel and her foot moved from the GIR floor mat to the petal and pushed down. The car jerked forward there was a loud THUNK noise as it passed over Mr. Nerves.

"Oh God!" she screamed in horror. Her hand moved from the wheel to the stick and switched the car in to reverse. Acting on its own accord her boot slammed down on the gas. THUNK, over Nerves again.

"NO!" Devi screeched. Before she could do any more damage she flung her self out the door on to the grass. She backed away from the car. She knew what that voice was, it was sickness! But how- no that didn't mater right now. She crawled over to the road kill-afyed man. He was in pretty bad shape. His body was bleeding and already bruises were appearing, his glasses were shattered with pieces stuck in his face. He had the distinct pattern of tires on his arm, which was twisted back, but he was alive!

"Oh thank God!" she breathed a sigh of relief, "Mr. Nerves! Talk to me! Please! Please don't be dead. I'm sorry!"

"Heh, heh, heh." He was laughing. Devi leaned back a little disturbed, "M-mr. Nerves?" he started to mumble to himself. Devi put her face near his to hear the man's last words, "What, what did you say Mr. Nerves?"

"It has begun, again. This time…" he coughed and blood splattered Devi's face. She was too shocked to think to wipe it off. Her eyes were wide with horror. He smiled his demonic smile, then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he died. Devi covered her mouth with her hands; all those times she said she could just kill him… and now this.

"HEY!" she turned around slowly. Her heart skipped a beat. A police officer was running as quick as his pudgy legs would carry him. The door to his squad car was still wide open. He was running toward a murderer. After about 45 seconds he reached her. The man whose nametag read, Rakez looked from the dead man to Devi to the blood-covered car.

"Is this your car?" he asked his eyes cold eyes stuck out of his head as he glared at her. She nodded numbly.

"Did you do this?" she looked up at him unable to do anything but nod. The officer stuck his foot out and pressed Devi to the ground then hand cuffed her wrists behind her back. He reached down his paw-like hand and roughly yanked Devi to her feet. He began telling her what her legal rights were. She stumbled as he dragged her to the car and threw her into the back seat. She blinked several time then realized what kind of trouble she was in, "Wait! You don't understand! Sickness made me do it! She can control my body now I-I guess it's from my creative block that she's been able to get her power back and…" Devi stopped she sounded insane. There was a good possibility that she was, but she doubted it. She let her body go limp she suddenly felt weak. She could feel the sticky blood on her face and couldn't ever wipe it off. The next four days pasted in a blur. She was tried and she confessed. The judge, after reviewing her rant at the police officer, decided that she was criminally insane. He said she would be confined to the Defective Head Meat Institute for the rest of her natural life. To this day she still had no idea where that fat cop had come from but she has no idea what she would have done if he hadn't come.

Flash Back Over

Devi pushed herself to her feet. She began to walk over to the window. Just to be a little closer to the freedom she had lost. The night, the beautiful night would never be hers again. This place was hell. She couldn't paint and she knew it was only a matter of time before Sickness showed up again. Plus Tenna felt the need to visit every Saturday. She missed her friend but talking to her with an armed guard hovering was hardly the same as their old talks. It would be so nice just to get out for one night, just one beautiful night… "Turn around," a whisper commanded. She did but only to see the intruder. There was none, but there was something else much more interesting. The door to her room was cracked open.

"No way…" she whispered but still walked over to the door. She pushed it open and glanced around. There was nobody in the hall. She could make a break for it! With out thinking Devi started running, running for her life, for her freedom.

MEANWHILE on the other side of the building in the Men's institute:

A familiar homicidal maniac stared at the stars through the bars of his window. he was wearing the plain white male patient attire. Johnny also had made an alteration to his clothing he had ripped the pants at the knees and had his boots. No one dared to try to take them away from him. Johnny reached up and touched the bars over the glass. What he wouldn't give for a Brain Freezy right now. It was a beautiful spring night the stars and moon shined like they cared. Almost like something was watching out for him, "Heh, that's a laugh." He said out loud, "Nothing's watching out for me. Even when something was it just wanted me to be its slave. Be a good little slave and you wont ever be caught and wont die. Well that was a long enough ago wasn't it?" he glared up at the stars they now seemed too pretty, like they were mocking him with their freeness. He had no freedom. He had lost it two weeks ago…one fateful starry night.

Flash back

"Yum good taco!" he said through a mouth full of food. Johnny was sitting on a bench in the park. The moon was about a quarter full. He was enjoying the quiet evening. It was his first night home after his journey of self-discovery. (I wont go into that, It's another story) Johnny set the uneaten half of his taco in its paper wrapper and leaned back taking a deep breath just feeling happy to be alive when they arrived. What Johnny did on this night could not be helped. I myself would have done the same thing or possibly worse impossible to really know what you would do in a given situation unless you experience it first hand.

As Johnny sat there with his eyes closed just savoring the night he heard it. Laughter.

"Hey Queer!" Johnny squeezed his eyes even tighter, 'not tonight. This night is too beautiful. Don't! Just leave,' he silently pleaded the moron and/or asshole.

"Hey queer! I'm talking to you!" said a loud voice of someone, Johnny was guessing, was fairly large with a fairly small brain. He heard giggling from at least two or three girls. One with a particularly high obnoxious voice said, "Maybe he's a death." (Yep, she said a death where as this author can only speculate that she meant a deaf. And even then she sounds like a retard). With out lifting his head or opening his eyes he said, "You mean deaf?"

"Hey, looks like the queer can talk!" another voice shouted amused.

"How is it that you immediately jump to that conclusion about my sexual preference? Despite the fact that it is no business of yours I prefer at the moment to stay away from every one. That includes the members of the opposite sex and same. So if you would please leave me to my peace before something horrible happens that would be splendid." He warned calmly. Johnny heard them all laugh cruelly and felt a big meaty hand grab the front of his shirt and lift him into the air.

"Ya mean something horrible happen to you, you smart ass!" Reluctant to actually make eye contact with these idiots he opened his eyes and looked at those who had taken it upon them selves to ruin his night. There were five of them total, three guys and two girls. The guys as he had guessed were muscle bound jock types. There was one with a crew blonde cut. The other two had longish hair as the current style of teens would have; both of them had dark brown hair and were wearing purple letterman jackets with a V on the front. The two girls were as you might guess judging by the company they kept, cheerleaders. Both decked out in their purple plaited skirts and tight tops also with a V over the left side of the chest and entirely too much make up. The amount of blush they had smeared on their faces made them appear to have fevers and the purple eye shadow made it look like they had two swollen black eyes. One had blonde hair (clearly dyed) and the other red (also dyed). He turned his head away from the stupid teens. As much as he hated cheerleaders he'd had a good running streak of not killing anyone for a while. He didn't want to ruin that now. Especially not with these pathetic little kids who were simply trying to impress each other with feats of escalating stupidity.

"Look. I'm sure that we can be civilized here. As I'm sure you know violence is the crutch of those who have the inability to speak matters through and use their intellects to solve a problem. As a horribly over used saying goes violence begets violence by committing a meaningless assault on me you are merely continuing a vicious cycle of escalating violence that will inevitably lead to mortality. Perhaps your own, if once you attempt to prove your own toughness on the wrong victim. But if you release me now I will assure you that the ramifications of your acts will not affect you on this night. What do you say?" Johnny watched for any sign that he was getting through. The eyes of the one holding him eyes were glazed over and a drop of saliva slid out of the corner of the jock's mouth. Johnny had a look of disgust on his face as he realized that not one of his words had gotten through. He looked to the others with optimism that at least one of them had understood even a fraction of his words. The blonde cheerleader had her head cocked like a confused puppy, the red headed one was watching an early fire fly with great interest. One of the long- haired guys was staring off into space clearly something in his head had fried over the course of Johnny's monolog and the other had picked up JOHNNY'S TACO! The over sized idiot ate Johnny's taco in one hideous gulp. Well there was no stopping the inevitable now.

"YOU SHIT!" screamed Johnny.

"That's right Johnny boy, he ate your food. What gave him the right! You know what to do. Kill them make them pay." Someone hissed into his ear. "Yeah! I tried but that's it!" his current captor shook himself out of his fried-brain-meats state, "HA! What 'cha going do kick our asses? I'd like to see that! Go ahead! Kick our asses, that is…if you can down." He raised the fuming homicidal maniac higher into the air. His companions also came back to this reality (except for one of the jocks whose brain had exploded.) and laughed loudly with a bit too much enthusiasm. Johnny's hands had hung limply at his sides during the majority of the ordeal but now his fingers flexed in anticipation.

"You guys just had to come and ruin my good record…" he said shaking his head, "I really didn't want to do this but," he shrugged, "oh well." Johnny whipped his hands out from his sides exposing two huge blades. Before the jock holding him could react Johnny had swiped the blades through his wrists, cleaning chopping off his hands. They fell to the ground and in the dark looked like dead fish. The jock raised his hands to his face and opened his mouth to scream only to receive a machete down his throat. Next Johnny turned to the cheerleaders who were screaming their lungs out. He raced toward the on the way decapitating the brain dead one. He stopped few feet in front of them. They stopped screaming a moment looked from him to each other then in union shouted, "KILL HER! SHE'S THE BITCH!" he shook his head at their lack of loyalty then decided not to stretch this out any more then necessary and lunged at the girls. They opened their mouths to scream but never got the chance. Johnny spun around looking for the one who caused this little incident. Off in the distance he could see him running for it. Would it be better just to let him live with the knowledge that his actions had caused his friends deaths? Johnny mused to himself,

"NO! Go for the blood!" the same voice demanded, "Okay." He said nonchalantly and raised the blade over his head and threw it with all his might. The boy had gotten so far away he was only a dark silhouette in the night. Johnny strained his eyes and was able to see the boy stumble and fall forward as the blade hit between his shoulder blades with only a grunt of protest. Johnny stretched and sat back down the corpses still surrounded him. He rested his arms on the back of the bench. The murderer growled angrily. The moment was gone! Those little punks had ruined his night. Johnny got up to leave when three police cars rode up with lights flashing and sirens whaling. They all screeched to a halt in front of Johnny. He shielded his eyes from the glare of headlights.

"Don't move!" one of the officers yelled at him, "Put your hands in the air!" Johnny raised an eyebrow at the direct contradiction in the policeman's statement but decided to go with raise your hands. Johnny stuck his hands in to the air and slowly stepped closer to the police, "Is there a problem here officers?" he asked thoroughly serious.

"Get down on the pavement! Now!" Johnny looked down, "But I'm standing on grass. Do you want me to move to-"

"Er-get down on the grass!" the cop cut him off. Johnny nodded and did as he was told. When he was on the ground six officers surrounded him and cuffed the formerly untouchable killer. By the time they had escorted Johnny to the back of a police car most of their uniforms were covered in gore.

Johnny was taken to the station, read his rights, booked, and photographed. The picture was a peculiar one. For one thing Johnny was smiling pleasantly like it was a school picture though his face and clothes were covered in blood. He even apologized for his hair being so messy and asked for a comb.

He was immediately lead into the interrogation room where he talked for hours about his fondest memories of killing. The best tortures and how he had tried to stop but they just had to eat his taco. The trial was concluded in less then one afternoon. Thanks to Johnny confessing to so many grotesque crimes all his state appointed attorney could think to say was, "Your honor, my client is one fucked freak. He is the craziest bastard I have ever laid eyes on." and sat down. That was the whole defense. But it worked. The judge agreed that Johnny was a threat to society but he was too crazy to understand what he had done was wrong no matter how completely justified. He would be sent to the Defective Head Meat Institute.

Flash Back Over

Johnny glared at the stars, "I DON'T CARE! AT LEAST I CANT HURT ANY ONE NOW! PLUS NOW I'M FREE FROM YOUR FUCKING MIND CONTROL!" he was apparently now talking to the monster behind the wall who had commissioned him to be a flusher. (if I'm getting things messed up, don't call me on it,)

Creak! went a noise from behind. Johnny turned his head and saw his door open. slowly he walked over to the door and peaked out. there was nobody there. He knew he should be suspicious but there was one thing on his mind Brain Freezy! He raced out in to the dark hall.

MEANWHILE in the center of the institute in the children's' ward:

A tiny boy lay awake after yet another nightmare. He was wearing the bluish children's outfit. His eyes were huge with fear as they usually were. He had short black hair that he would probably loose before he reached his teens with the amount of stress he had. His name was Squee, which was more of a sound then a name but it fit him. Suddenly he sat up and turned to a brown stuffed bear he always carried called, Shmee. The bear was a creepy little thing with it huge white eyes and poorly stitched stab wounds. It could talk but only to Squee or so I assume.

"What's that Shmee?" he listened intently, "What do you mean the door will open? They always lock it." He raised his head to look out the barred window, "They say its to protect us from the bad things in the world, and to protect the world from us." He sighed, "they say once my head stops being broken they'll let us go. But I really don't think my head is bad." He was silent a moment, "I guess your right that since my head meats work fine then there is no reason for me to be here but I don't think I should burn the building down there are other people here who might also be good."

Squee picked himself up off the padded floor and grabbed his bear. As he approached the door his courage began to fail him, "B-but what about all the bad things out there? do you think Mommy and Daddy will let me live with them again? If I stop talking about all the bad stuff then they might forgive me." He watched his bear and shook his head roughly, "No! I'm sure they will want me back. I bet they miss me! In fact," he puffed up his chest, trying to look big and strong, "I'm going to go out there and find them!" he let the breath go, "if the door's unlocked. He reached out his little Squee hand and pushed on the door. It opened. He wasn't sure whether he should be happy or scared. Squee decided to go with both. He held on to the bear tightly and slipped through the crack in the door.

"If I'm out. Does that mean everyone else's doors opened too? Because there's that girl who keeps pulling my hair with her teeth because she's in a strap jacket. Oh, I don't want her out!" he listened to the bear, "So only three doors have opened? That's good. Your so smart Shmee. You know everything!" he smiled at the bear, "Guards? I didn't think of them. So I should hurry right? Okay I'll run!" he began to run, "even though I don't know where to go!"

He did just that he ran. When ever he hit a fork in the road Shmee would tell him which way to go. Squee closed his eyes and started running blindly turning every time Shmee told him to.

"Open you eyes and stop," Shmee instructed. Squee did, "What's wrong? Something bad's coming!" he cried in horror repeating the bear's word. He was stand at another fork. A light down the hall to the left flickered on and off. He could see the shape of something big. Not wide but tall! It had horns! Squee squeaked in terror. He turned to the path to run and saw another tall monster running at him. As the monster with horns got closer it noticed Squee and tried to stop but slid and fell still sliding on the over polished floor crashing into the wall next to Squee. It moaned in pain. The other monster had stopped running and now was walking up slowly probably trying not to be seen. The horned monster turned around and was looking at Squee unaware of the other monster encroaching in on them.

"SQUEE!" he squeed (Squeed the past tense of Squee)

"Squee?" the horned monster repeated in a female voice. A light above them flickered on. Squee looked up at the second monster in the light and screamed in horror. It screamed in surprised. Devi (then horned monster) turned around and saw the other monster and screamed.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"-Squee

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Devi

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Johnny.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"-Squee

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Devi

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Johnny

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"-Squee

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Devi

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Johnny.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"-Squee

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Devi

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"-Johnny

TO BE CONTINUED…

That was my first triple threat cross over and I like how it's going. Please review! I will need at least three or four days between chapters so be patient please. Thanks and once again REVIEW!