He's a smoldering candle, the embers gasping for their last breath, trying to relight back into the brilliant blaze it once was. It's depressing, how his eyes vainly try to focus on something, but the drugs and the dull nondescript walls are against him. He slips out of focus, eyes glazing over and a sigh escaping his lips, tired of trying when there's nothing to really gain. He's given in to the medication, and his eyes fall close as his head lolls back, against the wall, the padding muffling the thump of his skull.

The orderly nudges Peanut in the shoulder, and his eyes snap away from the sight in between the bars. His glare is hard and all business, though they've done this so many times before, and Peanut reaches all too easily into his light pocket, pulling out the money and pressing it into the man's greasy hand. He smiles, utters a quick, "Thank'ee." And unlocks the door to Johnny's room. The whining sound the hinges make snap Johnny into focus, and his head falls forward, chin resting against his chest, eyes landing on Peanut. A small, weary smile crawls sluggishly across his face, and Peanut matches it, closing the door behind him gently. The orderly locks it behind Peanut, leaving them to their business-they didn't have long. Peanut checks twice that the orderly has left before walking forward. Johnny staggers uneasily to his feet, careful not to totter over, his hands bound by the jacket making it difficult. He stumbles, letting out a hoarse laugh. (Did they really need to add insult to injury, tying up a man who is so far gone that he can no longer think properly?) He sounds as sick as he looks; but there's no need for words right now. Peanut quickly wraps his arms around Johnny, and even though he's wearing a straight jacket, he participates as much as he can in the body-crushing hug. He meekly nuzzles into his neck, and Peanut flushes, imagining Johnny's arms wrapped around him. It's a nice thought. He missed Johnny's rough hugs, the slaps of his hand against his back, the arm around his shoulders as they fooled around, just two good friends.

He pulls away, slowly, hand trailing on Johnny's shoulder so that he wouldn't teeter over from the sudden lack of support. Peanut's hand travels down his arm, and he lightly pinches the rough fabric of Johnny's straitjacket, a frown creasing his features. It seems like that's all he does nowadays- frown and worry. It's hard not too, with time, finances, and his health all running out at once. Johnny's face isn't that far away from his and he can smell something bitter wafting off of it, some sort of drug they've shoved down his throat. "Why are they making you wear this?" He asks, quietly, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Johnny's face twists into guilty pleasure, a kid caught with cookie crumbs down the front of his shirt who's too pleased with the chocolate chips to care about the sore bottom he's going to receive. "You know that… that Henry bitch that put me here?" his voice rattles, and Peanut looks up, confused, "Guess he's a pyro. Guess he got caught. Guess I…. I beat the shit out of him."

"What?!" Peanut shouts. Johnny flinches, taking a small step back. The anger reminds him of the night, when most of the orderlies are gone and he can hear everyone else's screams; he can hear his own screams, though sometimes he's not sure when he's shouting and when he's not. It's haunting, something he'll always remember, like the time he and Peanut got into that tiny skirmish at the bar.

"You know if you don't act well, they're gonna think you're crazy, Johnny, and I'm getting you out soon, promise-"

"Why did we fight?" He interjects suddenly, his eyes wide in confusion. Peanut frowns, eyes scrunching, almost as if he's trying to see if he's being honest. Johnny's face falls; it's so pitiful, that he can't remember what happened barely a week ago, just only a century ago. His eyes narrow as he seriously ponders it. "At the bar. You… we… I don't remember." He looks shocked, numbed even by the startling fact. I don't remember. How long until other things start to remove themselves from his memory? Would he forget Lola? Peanut?

"It… it was over Lola." Peanut says softly. Johnny doesn't ask any more questions. They fall silent, and the only noise is Johnny's harsh breathing, sharp sickly inhales that come in so quickly it sounds like he's afraid of asphyxiating. Peanut glances at the ground, his foot pushing against the hard ground, and he glances back up at Johnny.

"I saw Lola last night." Johnny broke the silence, his words soft and sincere. He's looking at the ground, his face red with shame or embarrassment, or maybe both. He doesn't really know his emotions anymore, why certain things happen, but by the way Peanut is just standing there looking at him, he feels the need to explain things. "An' she was standin' there, saying, Johnny Vincent, you're a faggot, an' then her face changed. Melted right off." He's oblivious to Peanut's sudden horrified look, and his eyes are slowly sliding out of focus, glassing over. "Saw Harrington, too, but all he did was laugh. And I asked him, shouldn't you be at some richy-rich mansion right now, not sitting her in Happy Volts Asylum, rottin' 'way with the screaming loonies? And he says… he says…" Johnny blinks, and though Peanut has a chance to end the train wreck, he just stares. "He says, 'You don't understand, Vincent, how things work in that dull mind of your. You're a leader, and you're addicted, like me, but you've been using the wrong kind of drug. You're a coward, a buffoon,', and that's when he steps forward, an' he ain't got no eyes, but he keeps talking: 'Time to step up to the big leagues, Vincent! If you ever want to get anywhere, you need the right stuff,"

"Johnny," Peanut's voice is a little desperate. He knows that he's let him ramble too much when his breathing becomes perfectly in tempo. "You were hallucinating." But Johnny doesn't skip a beat. His eyes are shiny, glass like a doll's, and he's lost.

"Stuff of champions, he says. He's got Bif… 'Bif's my poison, absinthe incarnate, because nothing gives me better disillusionment of grandeur then him.' That's what he says, grinning- crazy bastard. He leans even closer, an' he adds in this spooky whisper, 'You've got it all and yet you have nothing,' and he melts down, slips through all the cracks in the floor." He stares at his feet, socked foot sliding across the perfectly smooth floors. Peanut gapes at him, and Johnny looks up at him with haunted eyes, his shoulders hunched slightly. "Find my poison…"

Everything falls silent and awkward because Peanut doesn't know what to say and Johnny is already gone off in another world, falling back into a steady rhythm of breathing. Except now he has taken up rolling back on his heels, seeing how far he can go before he'll lose his balance because of his lack of arms at the moment and come crashing down to the ground. Very slowly, Peanut takes a step towards him, and Johnny doesn't register anything until Peanut has his hands on his shoulders. He barely makes any noise, just a sharp intake of breath, as his grip becomes firm and guides him to the far corner of the room, close to his rickety cot. Johnny's legs are slow, and Peanut has to inch along slowly together so that they don't get tangled up. Johnny flinches when the wall touches his back, but then he leans into the corner, trying to absorb himself into it. Peanut takes a step forward, pressing close so they were out of view of anybody passing by the door as his fingers went to work on the buckles of his straight jacket. His face is determined, cold and focused; until Johnny presses back up against him, placing his chin on Peanut's shoulder.

"I'm getting you out, Johnny," He murmurs, trying to ignore the way Johnny is draped over him and being uncooperative. All of the metal buckles on the straight jacket are shiny and smooth, and his uneasy fingers fumble and slip. Every time his fingers skid off track and over Johnny's belly, Johnny bites his neck like a petulant child. Peanut would have found it erotic if he wasn't close to tears, his hands shaking. Four times already, four visits, and Johnny was still sitting here, letting the drugs take over his mind. It was futile, but he couldn't lose hope, couldn't stop believing in Johnny.

He fumbles again, and Johnny's teeth sink hard into his skin, eliciting a yell of pain. "Johnny! I'm trying to… trying to…" His words die in his throat, the words vibrating under Johnny' lips as he traveled the expanse of his neck with them. Johnny croons softly, kissing and lapping where he had bitten him and drew blood. Peanut grips the front of Johnny's jacket, and God he wishes that the buckles weren't so slippery in his sweaty hands because his knees are shaking, with how Johnny is lavishing his neck like that.

"Stop. I've got to get you… oouttt…" The last word comes out strangled, his eyes fluttering close as Johnny's head slips down, nudges past the collar of his shirt with his nose, and kissing his collarbone. It's much too erotic than it should be, but the fact that he's doing all this at this moment, when anybody could come in and spot them makes him feel dizzy and his heart tighten. Johnny was so mad that he didn't realize that he could be spotted, could be found being gay.

Peanut didn't care at the moment. He suddenly wraps an arm around Johnny, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Johnny growls, pulling fruitlessly at his bonds. He stops after a moment, realizing he has no use of his arms, and he breaks the kiss swiftly, leaving Peanut flushed and a bit confused.

"Put yourself against… against the wall…" Johnny whispers, his voice jittering over the words like a broken tape player. Peanut knows that there's something wrong, that he should be breaking him out, but that hard glare in Johnny's eyes is as strong as the arms that would be around him if it weren't for the straitjacket. Peanut nods, switching places easily with Johnny. Johnny doesn't wait, doesn't care if Peanut is comfortable; he dives in, pressing against his prey with fearful ferocity. Peanut whines under the harsh kisses, gripping Johnny's back, his legs pried open by the knee wedged between them.

It's over as fast as it began. Johnny's tongue pushes into Peanut's, and when they meet and he moans, Johnny pulls away violently, making Peanut's teeth clack noisily together. Johnny backs up slowly, his head lowered but his eyes on Peanut. His breathing's ragged, and Peanut gazes at him curiously, trying to hide the fear.

"Lola?" Johnny croaks, and Peanut's face falls. "You ain't… Lola." He shakes his head in jerky motions, snapping his neck from side to side. "I can't kiss you. Lola would be mad. Lola would be mad. Lola would be mad."

He doesn't stop saying it, even as the orderly walks in briskly without knocking, curtly telling Peanut it's time to leave. Peanut looks over at him, quickly, his mouth forming already into begs and pleas but the orderly cuts him off: "You need to leave," His eyes fall on Johnny, who's still mumbling. "Now."

Peanut hesitates, looking over at Johnny. But he's gone, and there's nothing left in his eyes. Very quietly, he leaves under the firm grip of the orderly's hand, keeping stoically silent until he passes the front gates. Once the fence is behind him and he runs until he's in the small tunnel that leads to Blue Skies, only then does he allow himself to break down into wracking sobs as he sinks down to the ground.

He's lost.

And Johnny's gone.

--

2 years? Geez. That's a long break, huh? Next chapter will have more. I'm writing this again, if only because I should finish what I started. Leave a review or send a message through fanfiction for any complaints/ suggestions/ death threats. Beta would be nice, but you have to send your email through a message, more than likely, because fanfiction automatically blocks email adresses in the reviews, just a little fyi.