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Sublime Awakenings	By : Kailean Category: Comics > Squee! Views: 1478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Squee!, JTHM, or Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from these works. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
Sublime Awakenings: Chapter 22

Pepito felt a tear slide down his face, looking at the unconscious boy who had helped him to truly understand what it is to be human, without even knowing it. His mother had taught him things, true, but Squee was the one he practiced with. He was the one who taught him that friendship is about more than just having someone to play with. He touched the boy's forehead with an unsteady hand, brushing shaggy brown bangs to the side. He could feel his friend's life force pulsing in a steady, but weak, rhythm with his heart.

Leaning down until their faces were almost touching, so close that he could feel the other's shallow breaths mix with his own, he whispered in a soft voice. “Todd, please come back.” It was more of a plea than the command he had meant for it to be, and he saw the tear fall from his own face to land on Todd's before closing his eyes in sorrow. The shallow pattern of Todd's breathing was broken, as he took in a deep breath, which caught Pepito's attention.

Squee's eyes slowly opened, and he blinked several times, as if trying to adjust his vision. He gasped in surprise at seeing the other's face so close to his own, following with several coughs. “Pepito?” he asked in a ragged, yet hopeful, voice. “Am I dead?”

When the half-demon saw the boy's eyes open, he felt relief flood through his being like melted ice into a mountain river in summer time. He moved back just a little, realizing how very close he actually was. The hope in the other's voice killed a smile before it could form on his lips. “No, Amigo. You are not dead.”

His brows furrowed in confusion at the other's words, which had him taking in his surroundings. He was lying on a twin-sized bed in a room with lots of scientific equipment, but not much personality. There was an IV in his arm, probably feeding him saline water and nutrients. Both of his arms were strapped to the bed, and he could feel bandages around his left wrist. Could he be in a hospital? As the implications of the thought occurred to him, his face took on a panicked look. “Where am I? Are they going to send me back to the institution?”

Pepito sighed sadly before answering the questions. “You're in Dib's basement; in his father's lab. As of now, the only ones who know of this...whatever this is...are Father, Dib, Gaz and myself. And Johnny, but he's dead at the moment. I was in the basement doing some ..chores.. when the All Seeing Eye altered us that Johnny had died. So, no, you are not going back to the institution, unless you still plan on killing yourself.” At the last words, he gave Todd a suspicious glance.

The relief that had started to well up in Squee's chest at learning that he wasn't in a hospital was lost when he was reminded of Johnny's death, and that he had caused it. He closed his eyes in hopes of stopping himself from crying, once again, in front of the Antichrist.

Pepito cringed at his obvious mistake when the others face was consumed with anguish. “I'm sorry.” His stilled hand resumed stroking his friend's forehead and hair in an attempt to comfort. “Do you still want to die?”

Despite his foray into self-hate, Squee felt himself, once again, comforted by Pepito's gentle touch. He opened his eyes to look into the other boy's, feeling hot liquid leak from them.

Though he was afforded no audible response, the look in Todd's eyes was a clear “yes”. He was probably afraid to say so aloud, believing that he would be locked up again. With a shock, he realized that Squee would rather die than be locked up again. “You know, Amigo, if you had managed to commit suicide so that you wouldn't have to go back to the D.H.M.I., you would probably have ended up in a personal Hell just like it...but worse.”

Squee smiled bitterly at this. He hadn't really expected much else, though it did seem unfair. Then again, not much in his life had ever been fair. Why should the afterlife be any different? “It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters!” Pepito's argument came out louder and more aggressive than he had meant for it to. This was definitely not the time to scream at Todd, but the situation was starting to piss him off. “Your life matters, Todd. And so does how you die.”

“Why? And why do you care anyway? Is it not enough for me to kill myself? Well, fine, I killed Johnny too! And it wasn't his fault at all. He wasn't trying to kill me. But surely you can sense all this without me having to tell you, so maybe even that's not enough. What do you want from me, Pepito? What will it take for you to just let me die? Do you want me to give you my soul officially first?”

At those words, and the harsh, desperate tone, Pepito thought that his heart might literally break into a thousand pieces. He slowly removed his hand from the other before taking several careful steps back, and just staring at him blankly.

When Pepito moved away, and said nothing for several minutes, Squee felt himself grow impatient. “Fine. Can I just say it? In exchange for letting me free of this bed so that I may take my own life, I, Todd Castil, pledge my-”

“TODD! Shut-up! I don't want to hear you say anything like all the shit you just said to me ever again! EVER! Is that clear?” His voice had a dangerous edge that he knew Todd had never heard him use before. As a matter of fact, hardly anyone had heard him use it; because he was rarely that mad, even at people he killed...not that he killed people very often. Well, not too often.

Squee was immediately silent, and, for only the second time in eight years, truly scared of the other boy. He turned his head to look up at the ceiling, fighting the urge to cry harder. Maybe his soul wasn't even worth having anymore. He could hear Pepito's booted foot tapping against the concrete floor of the lab as he waited for an answer, which he finally forced out of his sore throat. “Y-yes. I-I'm sorry.”

Pepito's gaze softened when the other finally spoke in a broken voice, spiked with fear. Todd was one of the last people he wanted to fear him, and it hurt almost as much as the words. Luckily, it didn't make him angry this time.

“Good. It's okay, just...don't do it again. And just so you know, none of what you said about my reasons for caring about your life is true. I care about you because I'm your friend. Or at least I thought I was.”

If Squee had doubted that it was possible to feel any worse about himself than he already did, he had been very wrong. The heartache in Pepito's words was like a punch in the gut. He had spent eight years writing and calling Squee. He had helped him through a small crisis earlier that week, and now he had helped save his life. He had trusted Squee with his darkest secret. For all this, he was repaid with mistrust and accusations.

“You are.” More tears rolled down Squee's face, and he could feel his nose starting to run. “I'm so sorry, Pepito. I don't deserve you.” He clenched his mouth shut to prevent himself from sobbing, but still emitted small sniffles.

Pepito gave a sympathetic sigh before walking back to the bed, and looking down at the other's pitiful state. He picked up a roll of gauze from a table near the bed, cutting off a tissue-sized piece. “I forgive you, Amigo. If I unstrap your arm so that you can wipe your nose, do you think you can behave yourself?”

How could he forgive him so easily? Squee swallowed dryly, looking up at the other with gratitude. “Thank you.” He chocked out hoarsely.

Once he had unstrapped Todd's right, unharmed, arm, Pepito raised the bed so that Todd was in a sitting position. He handed him the gauze, and looked away to give him a little privacy while he wiped and blew his nose. “You sound like you have a sore throat. Would you like some water, or ice, or something?”

Squee lowered the gauze, looking down in shame from his behavior. He really did not deserve a friend this good. “Yes, please. Whichever is easier.”

Pepito made his way over to the refrigerator that Professor Membrane had taken to keeping in his lab for storing experiments and general foodstuffs as well. He looked on the second level, which Dib had told him was safe territory. Still weary with the questionable substances nearby, some of which looked as though they might be alive, he chose a sealed bottle of spring water.

Todd blushed slightly from embarrassment when Pepito returned, taking the used gauze, and replacing it with a cold bottle of water after opening it for him. “Umm, thanks a lot.”

“You're welcome, Squee. You don't have to keep thanking me. Your throat will never get better.” He deposited the gauze in a biohazard bin, and pulled his chair close to the bed, taking a seat. “You are going to have to do as I say for a while, though.”

When Squee stopped mid-drink to give him a questioning look, he continued. “We've decided that someone needs to watch you for a while, to make sure...nothing bad happens. Dib and Zim are going to be pretty busy, and Gaz is…well…you know how she is. So you're going to be staying with me until you're better. I'm sure your parents won't mind.”

Squee looked down once again, not at all pleased with the situation. How could he explain that he wasn't going to get better; that the only solution was death; that he deserved death?

Seeing the forlorn expression, Pepito decided that waiting to talk about what happened was not the best course of action. “What's wrong, Squee? Why do you want to die so badly?”

The other looked back at him with sparkling eyes. “I can't control it. And now it's free, and it took control of Nny, and-” He took a moment to sniff, leaving out the awkward occurrence that was probably the worst part of the whole ordeal for Johnny. “And I killed him, but it's still attached to me. It said that it would be until I die.”

“It?” Pepito asked calmly. If he wasn’t who he was, he would probably be scared out of his wits right now...or on the phone with the D.H.M.I. Luckily for Squee, possession and demonic attachments were things he understood fairly well.

“Shmee. I know how crazy it sounds, but that old bear that used to talk to me…it's...alive or something. Not the physical bear itself. It said that Johnny destroyed the body, but... I think that just set it free to stalk me more directly, and hurt other people...or cause me to hurt them.” He looked down again, fidgeting with the bed sheets. “I know most people wouldn't consider it too horrible that I killed Johnny because of what he did, but he was my friend. And I don't want to kill anyone else.”

Pepito closed the small distance between his chair and the bed, sitting to face the other boy. He put his hand on Todd's shoulder. When his friend looked up, he gave him a small smile, massaging the shoulder a bit. “Todd, Johnny can't die. Not really. He can't stay dead. His job here is too important, and I don't mean being the creative genius behind Happy Noodle Boy.”

Todd gave him a curious look, before emitting something between a laugh and a sob at the small joke. “What job do you mean?” Surely being a serial killer wasn't that important.

“Johnny is what my father calls a waste lock. He attracts all kinds of negative energy from humanity, and keeps it in a portal, in his case a wall. If he dies, he'll just come back because the system needs him.”

“Does that have anything to do with him killing people?”

“Humm. Father says he was unstable to begin with, and that he was a bad choice for a waste lock because of that. It is one of the reasons he never gets caught, though. But, the point is, he will be back, just like new. I give you my word.” With those words, he felt Squee relax a little under his hand. “I'll try my best to help you with Shmee. If he's a demon, I should be able to take care of it. If not...well, I'll still try my best. But you have to give me a chance. I need you to promise me that you will. Please?”

Todd gave him a hesitate look that contained a hint of lingering guilt. He obviously wanted to promise no such thing. But in the end the guilt won. He gave a weak nod, followed by unsure words. “Yes. I...I promise.”

Pepito shot the boy a thankful smile, and fought a powerful urge to hug Squee, who was still strapped down by one arm and hooked up to an IV on the other. Instead, he raised his hand from the other's shoulder to gently stroke his face. It was an oddly intimate gesture for teenage boys, but he didn't give a damn. Neither of them could honestly be accused of being normal. Besides, Todd didn't seem to mind either.

That horrible, troubling, trusting feeling was back. It was like some warm fluff-bunny had burrowed its way into his heart, using its freakishly cutesy ways to convince it to pump out some sort of airy vapor instead of blood. He inadvertently leaned into the soft, comforting touch. “Pepito?” He asked in a low voice.

“Yes, Amigo?”

“Thanks. For caring about me, I mean.”

“Always.”

A comfortable silence filled the space between the two, which was very slowly starting to disappear as they leaned closer. Of course, as Todd had limited mobility, Pepito leaned the most. His hand slide past smooth, tear streaked skin to bury itself in dark brown locks as he held the back of the other teen's head. Squee's eyes were so shiny that he could see his own, a darker, more fiery brown, reflected in them.

When they were mere inches apart, his phone rang, playing some new version of the classic “Highway to Hell” and ruining the moment. Curses upon the head of whoever was calling him, if it wasn't important! He gave the other a sheepish smile before leaning away some to answer it.

“Hello?” He answered in a slightly irritable voice.

“Pepito. Hey, this is Dib. Gaz and I are still with Dad, but I think we're coming home soon. How's Todd?”

“He's awake, and he seems to be okay, considering. I guess we should get out of here before your father comes back?”

“That would probably be best. He would definitely feel obligated to call Todd's parents...or something.”

“Alright. You can come by and see him, but call me first. Father doesn't like unannounced guests. Oh, and he's taking some of you clothes to cover his...injuries.”

“Uh, okay. Ouch! Here, Gaz wants to say something.”

“Tell Squee that he owes me for covering for his whiner ass. And tell him that the next time he pulls some emo shit like this, I'll give him a reason to wish he was dead.” The girl threatened in her usual, barely controlled, manner.

Grrr! Horrible, arrogant, disrespectful mortal! If she hadn't helped repair Todd's injury he would teach her who really had power over nightmare worlds...though she would probably be better at it...or at lest enjoy it more, if she had such powers. “Tell me, Gaz, are you sure of your paternal ancestry?” Who was he kidding? He might as well ask about maternal as well. His father could just as easily manifest as a woman, for angels had no fixed gender, though he couldn't see his father carrying a child.

“What is that supposed to mean? Would you just tell him already?”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh. Hold on to your frilly, heart-patterned underwear.” Her irritated grunt made him smile. Then he did something guaranteed to make her even madder. “Todd, Gaz says that she's glad you're alright. She is happy she could help you out with your medical problems, and by distracting her father. Also, you can borrow her game slave.” He said all this loudly enough that both Squee and Gaz could hear it clearly.

Todd gave him look of obvious disbelief, but said nothing. Gaz stepped her threats up a notch. She was saying something about stuffed minions feasting on their flesh should they dare enter her room when he hung up. If they were the same age, and he didn't have such blatant demonic powers, he would seriously wonder if they had been switched at birth.

--------------------------POV SHIFT------------------------

Gaz gripped Dib's wrist in anger so tightly that his hand changed colors from lack of blood flow when Pepito hung up on her.

“GAH! Gaz, let go!” Dib jerked his wrist free, turning off his watch/communicator, and rubbing the red mark Gaz had left just above it on his arm.

His only response was an apathetic “Whatever” as his sister sunk back into bored resentment.

“Son! Daughter! There you are!” Membrane exclaimed in his usual over-enthusiastic manner as he rounded the side of the small building that housed public restrooms, a water fountain and a few snack machines for park visitors. “I've found a hot dog vendor, just over there!” He pointed over his shoulder dramatically. “The time for lunching is now! Then I really do have to get back to the lab.”

His offspring followed behind with much less sense of purpose as he led the way to a Delius Weenie stand just across the cobblestone path, that was still used for things so nostalgically old fashioned as carriage rides, in front of the restrooms. Once they reached their destination, Membrane took pride in ordering the product of his latest invention, a super weenie. Gaz ordered a foot long chili cheese weenie, and Dib ordered a regular soy weenie.

As the odd family claimed a park bench to eat their meal, Membrane spoke to the teens in a hushed tone that somehow still managed to sound as informed and passionate as it did on his TV show, Probing the Membrane of Science. “Son! Daughter! Do you see that family over there? The one buying all those ice cream cones?”

Dib and Gaz both reluctantly looked where the professor indicated. Gaz simply shrugged, and went back to her food. Dib felt a vague annoyance when his eyes landed on the father, whom he had encountered many a time, much to his displeasure. The man he had not-so-affectionately dubbed “Dah Cone” appeared to have had a whole litter of kids, all of whom currently had ice cream dripping down their faces.

“That is one of the major problems with this world. We have a population problem, and most intelligent people decide not to breed. But I ask you, what happens then? All of the ...less intelligent people are having more than enough to make up for this! It's a classic case of the tragedy of the commons! And then do you know what happens to the human gene pool?”

Gaz gave him a bored look. “It gets really shallow. Sorry, Dad, but we're already there.”

“Yes. Maybe we are. But, it's not too late! Do you know what I'm saying to you, kids?”

Her eyes narrowed into a heated glare, something that was rarely directed at her father. “I am not reproducing. Ever.”

Membrane sighed sadly. Gaz was really his best hope, seeing as how is poor son was so very insane. Brilliant, yes, but insane nonetheless. Insanity was not a good thing to pass down through the gene pool, but he supposed it was worth the risk, as long as there was a chance that someone as amazing as the professor could be produced to carry on the Membrane legacy and protect the world. Plus, there was still the small chance that Dib could get better. Why, he had even suggested this outing to the city's largest science museum himself!

“What about you, Son? Surely you would not doom mankind to such a lowly fate?”

“I dunno, Dad. Having kids isn't really one of my primary goals in life. We'll just have to see how things turn out.” At this point, he probably wouldn't even be getting married for a long time, if ever. He knew that anyone he was involved with was a potential target, a weakness at his enemy's disposal. That had been one of the reasons for his breakup with Vayowen.

“You know, Son, my lab is working on some new reproductive methods. By the time you're ready you may not even need a woman!”

Dib's head shot up at the insinuation that…well, he wasn't really sure what kind of insinuation it was, but it sounded offensive. “What?!”

An amused smirk formed on Gaz's lips. “Yeah, pretty soon Dib and his “little foreign friend” could even have a kid together, huh Dad?”

“Exactly! And already, I'm sure we could avoid passing on his strange skin condition!”

“I am NOT going to spawn with the Allieeen!!”

“Son, I'm sure that if you marry him he will be granted citizenship, if that's what you're always going on about.”

Dib stood in a fit of anger, throwing his half-eaten veggie-dog into the compost bin, though he was highly tempted to chunk it at a family member. “I don't have to take this abuse from you, I've got hundreds of people dying to abuse me already. I'm leaving.”

--------------------------POV SHIFT------------------------

After Pepito flipped his phone shut, sliding it into the pocket of his black jeans, he rose from the bed. “Alright, Amigo. I'm going up to Dib's room to find you some concealing clothes.” He gave him a suspicious look. “Do I need to strap you back down?”

“Uh, no, I'm okay like this. Really.”

“Fine, but I'm coming right back, and if you've tried anything I'll make you wear Gaz's clothes for your whole stay with me. Her new clothes.” Before leaving, he pulled the IV machine away from the bed so that the IV was taut, not allowing Todd to move his right arm to unstrap his left.

“Thanks for the trust!” Squee yelled sarcastically at the retreating back of his friend.

As Pepito made his way up the stairs, he made a short call, leaving a message for Todd's father about his whereabouts for the next couple of weeks. He was thankful that the answering machine picked up, because Mrs. Castil wouldn't have known what he was talking about, much less remembered to relay it. He left his number, but was certain there would be no opposition. Upon reaching Dib's room, he was annoyed to discover that his closet was locked and required hand print verification to access. Luckily for Dib, there was also a dresser, so he wouldn't have to blow the lock. He dug through the drawers until he found appropriate attire, and dumped out an array of paranormal investigating equipment, only to take the duffel bag that held it.

Sighing, Squee leaned over carefully to take a long sip of water, which was pretty much all he could do. He nearly dropped the water when a weight suddenly landed on his lower legs. “Ah! What-oh.”

An orange, furry mixture of flesh and metal that resembled a cat titled its head to one side, before emitting a loud purr, and walking up his body. It was obviously one of Membrane’s experiments, but its actions suggested that it was treated as a pet.

“Hi, kitty...I think.”

The cat came closer, nuzzling his right arm, which actually hurt a bit because of the IV. Todd sat the water down on the table to his right to give the cybernetic feline a gentle pet. Just then, the door to the lab was opened rather loudly, causing the cat to jump and shoot a laser beam from its head, straight through the IV. This caused the cord to fall limply to the ground, leaking fluid onto the floor.

Pepito came to a stop in front of the bed with a confused look. “How did you manage that?”

“Would you believe that some kind of mechanical cat shot it with a laser…from its head? It should still be around here somewhere.” The boy attempted to look over both sides of the bed, but couldn't really see much.

“Todd, death by cat? That's kind of pathetic.”

“Yeah, but it could be worse. It could be a tiny dog named Nacho with a sweet tooth for PB n' Js and the second graders who eat them. Besides, the cat shot a friggin laser beam from its head.”

“That's true.” Pepito deposited the pile of clothes he was carrying on the foot of the bed. “Okay, I'm going to unstrap you now so you can get dressed.”

After gently unstrapping Todd's left arm and removing the IV tip from his right, Pepito went about clearing away any evidence that they had been there, except for the fact that he was stuffing the duffel bag full of medical supplies as well. Ah well, with children like Dib and Gaz, Membrane probably went through medical supplies at such an alarming rate that he wouldn't notice anyway.

The other gave the clothes an appraising look: a black, long sleeved shirt claiming, “Capitalists are Pirates without a Code”, slightly baggy blue jeans with a swollen eyeball patch sewn on one knee, green “Seeing is Believing” socks, and... “Alien print underwear?”

Pepito looked up from the bag that he was just zipping. “Heh. Yeah, Dib's such a xenophile. I couldn't find any shoes, but I have some gym shoes in the car. Father is at work right now, probably with Johnny, but Mother usually has the weekends off. I called her while you were asleep, and she said you could stay as long as you want, but she thinks you have a cold so... you know… don't let her know about your 'accident'... she kind of is social services.”

“Yeah, okay.” Looking down, Todd realized that he was wearing a hospital-type gown, and it felt like he was completely naked underneath. That was embarrassing. Of course, his clothes, and body, must have been soaked in blood. Luckily, he had grown accustomed to such situations at the D.H.M.I. Even so, at the institution there had been a professional distance that was lacking here. And his arm was going to make this very awkward too.

“Hey, Pepito? Could you turn around for a moment?”

“Huh?” The demonic teen asked as if he had never so much as heard of the word modesty. “Oh. Yeah, sure.” When he turned around to face the other side of the lab, he spotted the aforementioned cyborg cat as it darted out of the lab and into the rest of the house. “Let me know when you're ready...or if you need help or something.”

Squee's eyes widened at the slightly teasing tone the other had used when offering “help”. He bit back a smart reply in case it just so happened that he really did need help, real help, because he was feeling pretty weak. He sighed at the small burden ahead of him before slowly sliding off the bed to stand on wobbly legs. He braced himself with his good arm until he was sure he was balanced, and then used it to pick up the boxers… with tiny green aliens on them. He managed to step into them, and pull them up with only one hand.

The pants followed, but, to his dismay, buttoning them was next to impossible so he skipped that step to tug the shirt over his head. He ended up with unbuttoned pants, a few sizes to big to boot, and the black shirt covering little more than half of his upper torso, with his right arm stuck in the material. He could only imagine how incredibly stupid he must look. This was even more embarrassing than if he had asked for help to begin with! He made one last ditch effort to get into the shirt before relenting.

“Uh, Pepito?” He asked in a pathetic voice. “I think maybe I do need some help.”

Turning around, the other had to bit his tongue to hold in the torrent of laughter that seemed to want to burst forth from his lips. That was just priceless! “Wow.” Walking closer to his friend, he slipped a hand into his pocket to once again pull out his trusty cell phone.

“Pepito? What are you doing?” Todd's voice was full of worried suspicion, as well it should have been.

“Say queso, Amigo!”

Squee's eyes widened when he saw Pepito holding up the, now open, cell phone. “Pepito, do NOT take a picture of me like this. Sto-” Before he could finish the sentence there was a small flash of light as Pepito snapped his picture. “Why did you do that?” He whined.

Pepito simply shrugged, returning the phone to his pocket. “For black-mail, of course. If you don't take care of yourself and let me help you, I can show this to everyone you know. Neat, huh?”

“Not so much, no. Are you at least going to delete it after all this is over?”

When he reached Todd, Pepito pulled the bottom of the shirt down and held the sleeves up one at a time, allowing his friend to get his arms through. “Maaayyybbbeee.”

“You're going to keep it to black-mail me again later, aren't you?” Asked Todd with a huff. He wasn't really as upset as he seemed. It could easily have been worse. Letta still had a few pictures of him dressed as a girl, though he was slowly and surely tracking them down and obliterating them, but Pepito didn't need to know that.

“Manipulative bastard.” He accused with playful, fake vindictiveness.

“Hey, my mother would resent that! Strangely enough, my parents were married when I was born, and when I was conceived. You are right about the manipulative part though. But, I won't show it to anyone as long as you keep your promise.”

“I wouldn't have made it if I didn't intend on keeping it. Besides, I guess it really is worth a try. It just… felt like so many bad things were happening all at once… and so hopeless, like dying was the only thing I had any real control over.”

“Good. In Hell, most suicides are nearly impossible to pull out of the negative energy that they build up around themselves. They remain locked in their own minds, tortured by their own self-hate. I'm not telling you this to scare you. Wait. Okay, I am, but my point remains valid. Even I might not have been able to reach you in such a state.” He paused to let this information sink in before continuing in a lighter mood. “And I like having you around.”

“Even when I'm incapable of dressing myself?”

An amused smirk formed on Pepito's face. “Especially then.” His hands moved under Todd's borrowed shirt, running along the seam of the loose fitting jeans to find the button. He really should have foreseen this problem and found some sweat pants, but he was currently having trouble regretting it.

The other's hands under the shirt and the teasing undertone in his voice had Todd blushing fiercely. He turned his head to the side, avoiding his gaze. Having been so sheltered, this was new and very strange to him. Also, he could never really tell how serious Pepito was about such things, and he wasn't even completely sure how he felt about them either. The fluttering in his stomach could be interpreted in a few very different ways.

Pepito finally withdrew his hands after having some minor “difficulties” with the button himself. “There. I think we're ready to go now.”

He slung the bag over his shoulder, and wrapped his other arm under Todd's to help him up the stairs since he was probably still weak from losing so much blood; even with the transfusion they had given him the previous night. He briefly considered using his powers to help with the task, but decided against it. It was most likely best to keep any abnormal occurrences to a minimum for a while.

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Notes:

-“I don't have to take this abuse from you, I've got hundreds of people dying to abuse me.” is a quote by Dr. Peter Venkman from Ghost Busters.

-“Capitalists are Pirates without a Code” is a quote by me, but it was inspired by the movies Hooke and Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End. The East-Indian trading company reminded me of Windy accusing Peter of becoming a pirate when his son explained that he was a corporate lawyer, but then I realized that pirates at least had a code.
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Sublime Awakenings