Title: The Path Of Blood: Bruised
Author: Luna "Tic" Vee
Feedback: Druidess@msn.com
Rating: This chapter is PG-13 (yes, I know I forgot to fix the rating 
on
the last chappy before I posted. Shaddap. It was an R, btw)
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Series/Sequel: 4 of 5(!)
Warnings: Lots of blood here, murder, cursing God, suicidal
tendencies, Jay torture, GoneBob, homicidal Jay, and overuse of
ellipses
Spoilers: None
Archive: Sureness.
Disclaimer: I own diddly squat. Jay and Silent Bob are property of
Kevin Smith, View Askew, Miramax, and the Martians that live in
Scott Mosier's left ear.
Summary: Jay and Bob find what they've been looking for, but can
Bob deal? And what about Jay's broken mind?
Notes: Blah... Okei, so maybe it's a five-parter. Be quiet. Anyway, 
I
like onomatopoeias, hehe.
***

Walking home from work, the warm night thick with humidity, making
every shred of clothing feel like he were wearing
something...heavy...and...hot...and...uh...

Thp. Thpthpthpthp. His airwalks made a nice steady sound upon the
ground as he walked, his coat flying out behind him as he breezed
through the heavy air, making his way home. Work had been
tiresome, as it had been since he started actually working for a 
living
once again. His hair sticky with sweat, stuck to his neck with
annoying frequency.

A distant rumble. A storm approached quickly from the west,
probably somewhere in Pennsy. They always seemed to send their
bad weather over to Jersey. The formerly red sky was blotted out with
furious clouds, grinning maliciously as they traded sparks, the moon
in hiding for the eve.

Nobody seemed to be on the street that night, and things were
uneasily quiet. Dead quiet. The type of quiet one hears just before
being blown to atoms or something of the such. The type of quiet one
hears just before being told something earth-shattering. The type of
quiet that makes you afraid you've gone deaf. The type of quiet so
thick and overwhelming, that nobody would be able to hear you
scream, as the quiet swallowed up all sound. Silence. Silence like
nothing Bob had ever heard before.

His eyes darted back and forth, looking for any sort of life, as he
quickly made his way down the street, turning into a nearby alley to
cut home faster.

Click. Plik plik plik plik plik. Fwpt. Snikt.

Bob's ears would've pricked up if they could have. A barrage of
small, barely audible, but very distinct sounds assailed him. His 
brain
shifted into panic mode.

*SHIT! Someone's following me... And they've got a knife or
something...* Bob's mind yelped, analyzing the sounds quickly as he
picked up speed.

Plik. Plik. Plik. Plik. Plik. Plik. Swip.

Bob ground to a halt as he heard the swoop of someone jumping. He
turned to run the other way, but quickly found himself unable to. Or,
at least, not wanting to. Something about having a thin arm crooked
around his neck, and a knife pressed to his back told him that moving
would be a bad idea.

*SHIT! I'm gonna die...* his brain screamed, sending him flashes of
his life, mostly Jay related, for need of a focus.

Heavy breathing came from the thin form behind him, like he'd been
trailing him for a while, running, perhaps. Slowly, the arm around 
his
neck began to slowly move back, uncrooking, and the palm stroking
his cheek, feeling the rough beard, feeling the facial structure. The
nose, the brow, the forehead, the jaw, the lips... Slowly, thin, 
frail
fingers trailed over his face.

"It can't be..." he heard a voice finally breathe, his mind easily
connecting it to the creature behind him. A voice... A voice he'd
heard so many times before. A voice he could never forget. A voice
he had always adored.

"J..." was all that Bob could stutter, before the figure swooped 
around
front of him, cold, lifeless brown eyes staring into his fear-filled 
own. 
Pale, almost paper-white face, all of his skin was, to be exact. Deep
blue hair, shaved on the sides, cut short and spiked atop, and long in
the back, pulled into a loose ponytail. That same nose. That same
chin. Those same perfect ears with the two piercings in the left 
one. 
But now, so thin, so frail, yet so worn. His eyes, not white, but 
red,
sleep and tear-worn puddles in his face....

"Bob?" he heard the whimper. He saw the young thing studying his
face carefully, taking in every detail. "Bob...it can't be you..."

"Jay..." Bob nearly sobbed, looking up at the beautiful face, that
looked so worn and tired and lifeless, and just wanting to pull the 
boy
into his arms and nurse him back to life. "It's me..."

"BOB!!!" Jay screamed, dropping his scimitar and wrapping his arms
around the larger man. He buried his face in Bob's neck and bawled
his eyes out. "I never thought I'd see you again! I never 
thought..."
he whimpered, between choked sobs.

"Jay, it's okay..." Bob cooed, wrapping big strong arms around the
boy, feeling somewhat right for the first time in forever.

"Bob, I couldn't deal when you left, and I'm so sorry for anything 
I've
ever done to you. I was stupid, and blind, and afraid... Afraid 
cause I
love you too!" Jay bawled. "I just hope you still don't hate me! 
PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!" he wailed.

"Jay... I could never hate you... It's alright, just calm down..." 
Bob
tried to be the controlled one in the situation, but he was on the 
verge
of losing it too. Hearing Jay wail out those words he'd wished his 
life
he could hear... He felt his heart take out a blowtorch and start the
welding job on itself.

"Look!" Jay said, letting go only long enough to pull his note from 
his
boot and show it to Bob. "I still have it!" he sniffled, handing the
tattered piece of paper to Bob.

"I...dunno what to say..." Bob said, carefully regarding the note. 
Slowly, he turned it over, and saw the prints on it. "Wh...what 
are...?"

Jay nodded solemnly, "You know how I'd always said I'd kill for you?"

"Jay...no..." Bob couldn't believe it. Jay's current appearance 
finally
sunk in. Jay was the killer. He'd been right. Dear God, he'd been
right...

Jay tried to cuddle Bob, "It's alright now! They were all scum! They
were lowlifes! Besides, this is how I tried to prove myself! 
You... I
did this all for you... I... when you left... I..." Jay looked down 
at the
ground, suddenly letting go of his beloved. "I broke."

Bob let go of Jay, taking a step back, fear clenching at his heart and
mind. Half of him wanted to wrap his arms around Jay, make him feel
better, and never let go. Half of him wanted to bolt for his life, 
incase
Jay was as insane as he was afraid of. Half of him wanted to turn him
over. Half of him wanted to scream at Jay for his doings. And half 
of
him wished he was good at fractions.

Jay whirled around on his toe, "Bob... please... Don't run. Please,
don't leave me again..." he wiped his eyes as new tears stung at him,
threatening to run as well. "I... I don't know anything anymore..."

Bob stood there, unable to say anything. Unable to do anything. 
Paralyzed with thirty-seven different emotions swirling in his heart 
and
his head, making him dizzy. This was too much.

"I... I just want to be with you. I don't want anything else. I'll 
give it all
up..." Jay used every ounce of self-control he had to keep from 
curling
up in the fetal position.

Bob looked at Jay with soft eyes. He was still unsure, but he nodded,
understanding.

"It's just..." and with that, Jay collapsed in sobs, clawing at his 
head,
screaming about how he was broken.

Bob ran to him dropping the note, and wrapped his arms around the
boy, holding him, kneeling there beside him, as the storm broke and
rain poured down upon them both. Eventually, Jay passed out in his
arms. Bob wasn't sure wether it was exhaustion (Jay looked like he
hadn't slept in months), or... well, he wasn't sure what else it 
could be.

Slowly, he gathered the boy into his arms, and stood up slowly,
wobbily. He looked down at the fallen scimitar and note. "You two
won't be needed any longer," he growled, and proceeded to take Jay
home to his place for the night. He would find out more in the
morrow...

***

Oh yes, I do love my ellipses. And my onomatopoeias. O.O