Author's Notes: Wow, it's been a long time since I started a new story. The last story I started was a Fruits Basket one-shot way back in July. Before that was a Kingdom Hearts II multi-chapter fic that I'm still working on. It's been stalled for months, and that makes me both sad and frustrated, not to mention puts a dent in my confidence and motivation. Anyway, I'm done whining. I was recently introduced to the genius of Jhonen Vasquez by way of Invader Zim, and liked it enough to seek out his other works. I have fallen in love with Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. On the surface, it's a splatter-fest for the violence monger in me, as well as a pitch-black comedy. But underneath, it's a heart-wrenching tale of a man being destroyed both by his own mind and by fate itself. Johnny scares me, makes me laugh, and breaks my heart all at the same time. I guess you could say Vasquez has inspired me to write again, and that makes me very happy.

Anyway, I should say that I haven't read I Feel Sick yet, so I'm not terribly familiar with Devi's side of the story. I do have it on order, though, so it's just a question as to how soon SLG will ship it out to me. But, the first chapter or so doesn't require familiarity with I Feel Sick, because the focus is on Nny, so I decided to start writing it now. I just hope I don't have to halt writing for a time due to not having I Feel Sick yet. There's some delay in processing my order, so I have no idea when I'm getting it. I guess we'll see.

The title of this fic comes from an Evanescence song, though the song itself has nothing to do with the fic. I chose it to signify how long feelings and emotions can last. Those of you who are familiar with Nny know how he would see this as a major problem.

JTHM and all characters herein belong to Jhonen Vasquez and any other entities holding copyright, not me. That's a good thing, because I don't think it would have been even half as good if it had been me behind the wheel…

My Immortal

By Annie-chan

Chapter One: Broken Silence

It was nighttime. The moon shown brightly in the black sky, just a sliver away from being full. Countless stars twinkled in the limitless sky, hanging in the blackness like so many diamond chips sparkling in the dark earth. Downtown, lights were on; the city was always awake throughout the night. But out in the suburbs, in the residential areas, only the streetlights lit the rows of houses, accompanied by maybe one lit window or two per block. The populace at large was in their beds, sleeping.

A single car drifted slowly down one dead-end street. It was a small gray car, old and beat up. One headlight was out, and odd stains on the dented front end indicated a crash or two. The motor was oddly quiet, however, and the few people who were awake made no notice of it as it made its way down to the end of the block.

There was a small building at the end of the road, so neglected and fallen into disrepair that it was difficult to call it a house anymore. It was little more than a shack.

The car stopped in front of the house.

The driver shut off the engine, but didn't immediately get out. They just sat there for several minutes. It was almost as if they were hesitant to get out, afraid of going up to the ramshackle house they had stopped in front of. If anyone had been around to look, they would have seen that the driver was sitting perfectly still, their head hung forward and their shoulders slumped. They looked deep in thought, or perhaps shrinking in fear. Whatever was occupying their thoughts, however, they finally straightened up and opened the door to get out.

A man exited the car, tall and lanky, alarmingly thin. Black clothes shrouded his bony frame, and tall black leather boots reached up to his knees, the metal buckles gleaming faintly in the moonlight. In one hand, he held the top strap of a backpack, the bag almost dragging on the ground. He seemed to have forgotten he was even carrying it as he walked slowly up the sidewalk to the door.

A sign hanging on the door read, "Knock on me. You just TRY IT."

The man's thin hand reached out and turned the doorknob, pushing the door open. It was unlocked. Really, who would be brave enough to venture into this evil-looking place? He seemed not to even see the sign as he went inside.

He let the door swing shut behind him, cutting off most of the light from the outside. The moonlight still shown dimly between the wooden boards crisscrossing the windows. Other than that, it was forbiddingly dark. Nevertheless, the man walked forward. He tripped slightly on some debris, cursing under his breath as he regained his balance. Taking a few more steps forward, he reached up, feeling the empty air for something. When his hand closed over what he was looking for, a thin chain hanging down from above, he pulled downward with a sharp tug.

A light bulb switched on. Though dim, it seemed stunningly bright to the man, whose eyes had become accustomed to darkness. He squinted his eyes shut, bringing his hand up to further shield them from the explosion of light. After a moment, he lowered his hand and gingerly opened his eyes, blinking once or twice as his eyes got used to the light. He looked around.

Johnny C. had come home.

For a few moments, he just stood there, looking around and yet not looking around. His eyes saw the broken, debris-littered room, but his mind was elsewhere. His too-large eyes were half-closed, giving him a bored, disinterested look. The backpack hung loosely from his fingers, in danger of falling to the bare floorboards.

Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed. It was a quiet sound, almost mournful. He resumed his trek deeper into the house, glancing down at the floor at a large, reddish-brown spot near the phone table. That was the spot where he had died, and where he had returned to life. He had never bothered to remove the massive bloodstain from the floor. Hell, he almost never bothered to remove any bloodstains from the walls or floors. It just wasn't something he tended to think about.

He pushed through a half-open door into the house's single bedroom.

"So, I see you've returned."

Johnny stopped, his eyes immediately looking to the left side of the room. His dresser stood there, the shattered mirror leaning against the wall on top. In front of the mirror was an open, empty cardboard box, the "this side up" arrow pointing downward. On top of the box stood the chubby figure of a ceramic boy, a giant hamburger balanced on his raised right hand. The voice had come from there.

"And I see you're still here," he replied, eyeing Reverent Meat warily, almost suspiciously.

"Yep, still here, Nny," Meat said, a grin in his voice. Johnny was half sure he saw the figure nod.

"I was hoping you would have disappeared by now," Johnny muttered sullenly, tossing the backpack over to land on the dusty, unused bed.

"Well, as you can see, I haven't," Meat responded as the thin man walked over to him. "I have no doubt that I eventually will go the same way as your other inner voices, but it seems that my time has yet to come. My job isn't done, I'm afraid."

Johnny didn't answer. He looked away from the ceramic figure and into the shards of the cracked mirror. Multiple reflections stared back. It had been a while since he had seen his own face. Not much had changed. His large eyes were still rimmed with black, a combination of sleep-deprived circles and the kohl-based makeup he habitually smeared on his eyelids. He didn't really know why he did that. He had just gotten into the habit and had never gotten out of it, he supposed. His face was still a sickly yellow, the color one would get if much of the pigment were sucked out of naturally medium-toned skin. It was a result of his favoring nighttime for his outings, he supposed. His hair had largely grown back, though it was still on the short side. The two "horns" still jutted out from his forehead and hung in front of his eyes, which just added to his demon-like appearance. He hadn't yet bothered to snip the longer pieces off.

He still looked like a freak. Not that he expected to have changed in appearance during his "holiday".

"What's on your mind, Nny?" Reverend Meat asked after a long silence.

"Shouldn't you know that?" Johnny nearly snapped back, his dislike for the burger boy apparent in his voice. "You're inside my head, aren't you?"

"I respect your privacy," Meat said, a shrug in his voice.

"Hmph," Johnny grunted, looking back to his fractured reflection. His sunken eyes and cheeks gave his face an almost skull-like appearance. Slowly, almost curiously, he ran his hands down his sides, feeling his jutting ribs and hipbones. His clothes were tailored for a tall, thin person, but even so, his painfully skinny body seemed to be lost among the fabric. His skeletal structure was unnaturally narrow, but the bones still stretched his skin, threatening to poke through. He was horrendously underweight, and he knew it, but he did nothing about it.

"You've lost weight since you were last here, Nny," Meat commented. "Still eating next to nothing, are you? Don't you know that's unhealthy? You look like a Holocaust victim."

"Shut up," Johnny hissed, wishing the burger boy would just be quiet.

"There's almost no muscle on your bones to speak of," Meat continued. "One wonders how you move around, not to mention how you attack your victims so viciously."

"SHUT UP!!!" Johnny shouted, gripping his head in frustration. "Just STOP TALKING!!!" He was in no mood to be lectured, and Reverend Meat's preachy way of talking was grating on his nerves.

"Why, Nny, you seem rather irritated," Meat said after a moment, an almost taunting tone in his voice. "I take it your quest for coldness has been less than successful. Is that why you've been so grouchy?"

"If you don't shut up now, I'll break you into a million pieces!" Johnny threatened, his fingers forming claws, just itching to snatch up the statue and hurl it into a corner.

"Doing that won't get rid of me," Meat countered. "Remember Nailbunny? Its severed head floated along beside you, or at least you thought it did. You'll just have a specter of me following you around the same way."

Johnny growled and clutched his head again. Meat was right. Destroying the voice's home wouldn't do anything to make the voice itself disappear. He was also right that Johnny's success in his effort to find emotional numbness had been minimal at best. He would gut himself before he would admit defeat, though.

Meat was silent for a moment, as if observing the thin man's behavior. "You were born a feeling creature," he said then, repeating the words he had spoken to Johnny soon before his departure. "There is no unlearning of your nature."

"FUCK YOU!!!" Johnny exploded, his eyes flashing red. "If I want to cast away my weaknesses, there's nothing you can do to stop me!!!"

"You're right," Meat responded, unfazed by Johnny's outburst. "There's nothing I can do directly. But, Nny, explain to me something. If it were at all possible for you to shed your tendency toward emotion, then why have you failed to even come close? You were gone for nearly three months, and you seem no colder than when you left."

"Shut up!" Johnny fired back, tearing at his short hair. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!" His eyes were squeezed shut, and his knees were starting to buckle. He was dangerously close to falling to the floor.

Meat was silent, watching as Johnny sank down to the bare floor, his bony knees thunking hollowly against the wood.

"Just…just shut up…!" Johnny moaned after a moment. He had his arms around himself, hugging his skinny frame tightly, his head hanging so low his "horns" were brushing the floor. His eyelids were still squeezed shut, but tears stung his eyes, forcing their way through. "God damn it, WHY DOES NOTHING EVER GO MY WAY?!" he suddenly screamed, banging his fists against the floor. The words were wailed, echoing eerily throughout the house.

"Things aren't going your way simply because you are fighting against your very nature," Meat answered after a moment. "You must banish such stupid thoughts of coldness from your mind. You must strive to be what you were born to be, Nny! Only then will you succeed in your efforts!"

"I won't be a slave to my weakness!" Johnny shouted, hitting the floor again on the last word.

The burger boy on the cardboard box sighed. "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny…I've already told you that there is an unfortunate connection in your mind between feeling and weakness. Nothing is further from the truth. In seeking coldness, you are running from hurt and pain. You wish to not even face such difficulties. It is the act of a coward to shun feeling! Confronting pain and overcoming it is true strength! Not only that, but you are also open to pleasure, to happiness! You're only feeding your sickness by trying to completely isolate yourself! You're isolated enough as it is!"

"Would you SHUT THE FUCK UP?!" Johnny howled, his voice getting hoarse. He hadn't talked much at all while on the road, and now all his screaming was wearing on his vocal cords.

"What about that girl?" Meat suddenly asked. "What about her? Devi, I think her name was? She's very passionate about her art and what she believes in, isn't she? Are you saying she's a weakling for harboring such feeling in her heart?"

Johnny went very still. His eyes were wide, a crazy spark in them. "Don't…" he finally managed after several seconds of speechlessness. "Don't talk to me about her…! Don't say her name, God damn you! Don't even mention her, you fucking asshole!" He had jumped up from the floor and rushed up at the burger boy, grabbing the ceramic figure and shaking it.

"Why not?" Meat asked calmly. "Do you hate her so much?"

"WHAT?!" Johnny gasped, taken aback. "NO!!!"

"Then why don't you want to hear her name?" the statue pressed.

"Because—" Johnny began, but stopped. His eyebrows drew together, as if he had no idea what to answer. Or perhaps he didn't want to admit that hearing her name only reminded him of his failure to erase his emotions concerning her. After a moment, he spun around, facing away from Reverend Meat, and let out a frustrated scream, stamping one foot so hard it echoed.

"You need rest, Nny," Meat said after a sigh. "You look like the walking dead. It's been days since you last slept, hasn't it?"

"No," Johnny ground out through his teeth. "I'm not sleeping." He was rubbings his temples, trying to stave off a massive stress headache.

"You're just going to keel over sooner or later," Meat reasoned, his tone that of a parent addressing a stubborn child. "May as well save yourself the bump on the head, eh?"

"Enough!" Johnny snapped. "Stop badgering me!"

"If you lie down and have a proper sleep," Meat said, "you'll escape my 'badgering' for several hours."

"Nice try," Johnny huffed, folding his arms.

"You know I'm right, Nny."

"Fuck off." He had to admit, though, Reverend Meat had him there. He was getting so fed up with the burger boy that part of him was considering falling into that accursed state of mind known as sleep just to escape the little asshole.

"Come on, Nny," Meat prodded, a supplicating tone taking over. "Give in to your natural urges for once. I wouldn't be surprised if part of the reason for your foul temper is because you get so little sleep. You're so miserably malnourished, too."

Johnny just grunted in reply.

"Come on," Meat repeated. "Humor me."

"Why the fuck should I humor you?"

"Because I'm you."

Johnny was silent.

"Well?" Meat pressed. "Get some sleep, then eat something. You'll feel better afterward."

"Fuckin' prick…" Johnny grumbled.

"Thanks," Meat replied sardonically.

Johnny let out a long-suffering sigh, hanging his head and running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he finally said petulantly. "I'll sleep. But only to shut you the fuck up."

"Your reasons don't matter to me," Meat said. "I only care that you see to your body's needs."

"Hmph," Johnny growled, knocking the backpack off the bed and to the floor. He fairly ripped his boots off, having only undone half the fastenings, and dropped them on the floor as well. "Don't even think of this as you winning some victory over me," he warned, sitting down on the bed. "I'm doing this because I made the decision to."

"Sure you are," Meat responded, sounding smugly unconvinced.

Johnny gritted his teeth so hard, he felt them creak. He managed to hold his tongue this time, however, completely fed up with the argument. Instead, he drew his feet up onto the bed and flopped down to the mattress, his head hitting the long-neglected pillow with a poof sound.

"Sleep tight, Nny," Meat said, sounding like a loving parent tucking his child in for the night.

"Fuck you…" Johnny drawled, the words slurring and trailing off as his eyelids dropped closed. Just lying down had triggered his body's need for slumber, and his exhausted brain shut down so quickly it was almost a swoon. Within seconds, he was fast asleep, his body eagerly taking the opportunity to recharge.

Silence overtook the house once more.

To be continued…

Author's Notes: Whee! That was fun to write! I love writing, it's just a motivation problem I've been having. I need to regain my motivation to finish that KHII fic, because I hate leaving stuff unfinished. Anyway, did I keep Nny and Meat in character? I hope I did. I'm always nervous about how in-character I am, because I tend to not think about what I'm writing as I'm writing it. If you have any suggestions for improvement, please give them to me, but be nice about it. Constructive criticism works so much better than flames.

I'm praying I get I Feel Sick soon, because I think I'll need it as a reference as soon as chapter three. Everyone pray with me, and let me know what you thought of this! I haven't written anything in months, and I'm afraid I'm a little rusty. Reviews and/or emails are always welcome.

Ciao!