SPRING BREEAKKKKK;

[howtheyshine]

He's in the dark. He's in the dark again. A pocket of alive-darkness that he can feel the edges of, he can feel the void that waits.

Well hello there, Yellowhead. We haven't been formally introduced. I'm....

Call me Carmichael.

The laugh that bubbles through the name makes Yellow's soul creep.

You're Kayne.

A silence ripples outward from the nothing-space the voice takes up, a silence deeper than the emptiness of John's unoccupied body. Yel-- Edwin, Edwin curls in on himself, tightening into a tiny knot of spectral energy.

He said the wrong thing, he said the wrong thing, he's going to get hurt--

And how, my little poppet, did you know that.

I-I...

Actually. Know what? Doesn't matter. Sorry to pull the plug on that little experiment so abruptly, but see, I made a deal with your better half--

John!

He can't stop himself. He realizes how stupid the flare of hope is a moment later, when that oppressive empty cold bleak dead cold silent dark silent dark comes creeping back up between him and the voice of Kayne.

I made a deal with him to get him back to Arthur, which means you needed to clear the way.

Of course, I can't be bothered to babysit you.

So you've got a couple of options, here, kid.

Well, two. Which is more like one. Unless you want to go back to the Dark World, in which case--

No-- No, please, I don't care what you want, I'll do it, just--

Okay, okay, Jeeee-sus, stop groveling. It took John a few good centuries to get to that point.

Yellow goes quiet, cowed.

There's this guy I want you to meet. He's like the worst version of Arthur got all the color sucked out of it and given eternal life.

Wh... What?

Well, technically you did meet him. I guess now he gets a chance to meet you, since he's so fucking eager to lick the feet of a god.

The unhinged laughter rings in Yel-- Edwin, Edwin, Edwin's ears as he feels the world get abruptly smaller and his senses get stripped back to shadows.

Comments

[howtheyshine]

Larson is asleep again, finally. Larson is asleep, and Yellow is exhausted from anxiety and enervated from use of powers he barely understands. Can't properly use without direction.

If John has tried to reach out to him, he's ignored it, too paranoid about Larson listening in somehow.

But Larson is asleep, and Yellow might not dare influence that again, but he needs to tell his brother something important.

There's no hiding his fatigue, but he can at least hide, he hopes, the way the day's work left him feeling stretched thin in places. Like bits of him are going to come away and disappear if he's not careful, pieces squeezed out and used up.

With no preamble, no hello:

Larson hired someone to kill you. To kill Arthur I mean. Because of Jack--Uncle. Probably also because of the creature in the caves. But more because of Uncle.

[greatoldjohn]

There's no answer for a few moments before-

You should have told me about Uncle.

There's a strange sort of despair in that tone, evened out by a huffiness that tapers off near the end. He knows it's unreasonable. He trusts Arthur.

...about most things. It's been a rough day or so.

But he's upset about that death, maybe because it seemed to calm Arthur somewhat.

Arthur didn't see what he saw. He doubts it would have calmed him if he did.

Maybe because it feels like the problem isn't done with. Maybe also because he has gotten Arthur to go to New York and he hates all the bullshit he has to do to avoid getting their fucking head exploded, or their deal nullified.

Though a little rebellious part of him wonders if even Kayne could pull him away from Arthur without their say so.

But not enough to chance it.

But thank you.

Does he know I'm in here? You said he wanted both of us.

[howtheyshine]

Silence greets the first statement, undercut by the flare of hurt and fury that bursts into existence and as quickly get stamped out. Still, Yellow's response is terse.

You're welcome.

He heard Arthur say your name before he got thrown into the mines. He put two and two together before I figured out when to shut up.

I told him I would only help him if he left you alone, but apparently he doesn't consider trying to kill your 'vessel' an actual risk to you.

[greatoldjohn]

There's a little flare of fussiness that meets the fury, as if to say 'what, I'm not supposed to be upset about that?!' but he doesn't say anything else about it. And he's going to move on.

...the hurt makes him feel something else, something warm and soothing and almost seems to be sliding towards Edwin on the connection, like he wants to take his hand.

Delightful. Ugh. I'll figure out some way to tell him. Do you know anything about him?

He considers it for a moment before-

Don't be too hard on yourself. You were... not at your best in that moment. It happens. It's happened to me too.

Thank you again.

[howtheyshine]

The warmth draws Yellow like an insect to blue light. He can't bring himself to end the conversation there, and when John offers the reassurance--

He misses his brother so much. He misses him so much. It's only been days, but they haven't been apart this long except for John's disappearance and that last breach, not in the five months since Yellow got to the barge.

The killer's name is Dennis Collins. He's called the Butcher. He's Irish, older than Arthur, but I'm bad at guessing how old humans are. Old enough for his hair to change color.

I only know who it is because I met him in the other world. I don't know... where he's going to try and come after you. Larson can close me out. Or in, I guess. Keep me from hearing things.

A pause, the tiredness creeping over him again in the wake of sharp emotion.

He knows I kept him asleep long enough for you to get away. Long enough for...

Long enough for Uncle to be murdered.

He knows I contacted you but not how, even though I'm pretty sure he has guesses.

There's that ache again, the homesickness for his brother's face, for physical contact, hugs and smiles and playing on the deck.

How... How are you and Arthur doing?

[greatoldjohn]

Better.

That ache feels the same as when Arthur is somewhere close and small, and he feels the same urge to try and comfort through it now as he does then.

We're getting a haircut and a shave right now. Afterwards, we plan on getting train ticket to head to our next destination.

A short pause.

Do you think Larson would be at all placated if you 'tricked me' into revealing where we left his car?

[howtheyshine]

Maybe. He sounds doubtful. Larson says he knows how to find missing things. He knows... a lot, John.

Fear creeps into that last sentence.

He knows a lot.

[greatoldjohn]

He's still mortal. He still needs to eat and shit and sleep.

The feeling that he believes in you is strong with those words.

[howtheyshine]

He wishes he could cry, but not because of upset--not exactly anyway. It's one of those complicated tangles of good and bad feelings he still has no idea what to do with sometimes.

I miss you.

I miss you so much.

If I get to go back, to that other place--one of the... the things I was working on, was trying to figure out, would let me have a body. Like you do there. If I can get back I'll figure it out for both of us.

[greatoldjohn]

The fact that the other version of him has a body...

Shit.

How did he get it? What did he have to do? A quick pause before- Arthur- he didn't-

A longer one to get his emotions handled.

He didn't take Arthur's, right?

[howtheyshine]

No. He didn't take it from anyone. There's-- there's a god there who's... like us, I guess. Who... cares about things, people, and can help with impossible wishes.

You have to help people, to give him the... the power to do it. People he chooses, people who need help but won't look for it themselves.

The body he gave you lets you be... everything you are, without hurting anyone. You're tall and strong and can do everything the King could but you... you help people.

[greatoldjohn]

That sounds very very much too good to be true. There's a faint suspicion that Edwin the King Edwin the King Edwin might be spinning stories, but he didn't know about a lot of things before he got out of the Dark World. And there's something about the awkwardness of his description, his difficulty with it, that make it seem more like a thing that's hard to comprehend as opposed to a lie he's having trouble with.

Did I help you?

[howtheyshine]

The suspicion, faint as it is, stirs up an anxious need on Edwin's end. Not quite desperation, but it's adjacent.

You helped a woman named Natalie. She was... she was nice. I liked her. She went home, back to her universe I think. And you used your deal to help Arthur. And then he helped someone, too, and used his deal... he used his deal for you. To get you the body.

B-but you did. You do. Help me. I came there... I came there... angry. Angry and scared, but... mostly angry. All the time. I hated Arthur. I wanted to hate you, but... I couldn't. You... You were nice to me. Even when I tried to make you angry, you were kind.

A-and then... I met someone who... who loves me like Arthur loves you. Who-- Who chooses me the way Arthur chooses you. And I made... friends. People could-- can hear us, there, i-it's... it's complicated, but I promise I'm not lying. It's... it's like a place between places. A... a... vessel that can travel across universes, a ship, and the captain is the one who brings people on board and rewards the ones who help.

[greatoldjohn]

I don't think you're lying.

There's a combination of feelings in those words: slightly frustrated while also trying to comfort, wanting him to be calm and feel okay and stop worrying.

Do you know how I helped Arthur? Did I tell you?

[howtheyshine]

N... No. There's... a lot of things about Arthur that I don't know. That you w-- can't say.

The sense behind those words is like a bruise, something that only hurts when pressed.

Arthur--

It occurs to Edwin suddenly, for the first time, that when Arthur said he loved him, it was probably a lie. He probably does want Edwin to graduate. He probably, maybe, even is happy for him, the things that he's learned and changed. But he doesn't love Yellow. Love comes with trust, and Yellow doesn't have that. He knows he doesn't. His tone drops, subdued.

Arthur is... He's Arthur.

Did you tell him I'm... here?

[greatoldjohn]

He is.

There's a long pause as he tries to get around what he says, what he means, what he feels.

...sort of.

I told him I've felt you. And that I'm trying to figure out what happened.

It's hard to explain what you've told me, especially when I-

I can't really let him feel what you feel like. How you feel... like me.

A pause.

You're hurting. Why are you hurting?

[howtheyshine]

I-I'm-- Fine, it's nothing, it's not important.

But he already told this John that he would be honest.

I think I'm... lonely. And... afraid. Larson-- He can do what Arthur said he could. He knows how to send me back to the Dark World. He wants me to do things, bring things into this world that shouldn't be here, and it... hurts.

[greatoldjohn]

He doesn't answer at first. There's just silence, blank silence... and then warmth. Gentle, tentative warmth.

I'm here.

He doesn't know what else to say.

Do what you need to do to stay safe. To stay out of the Dark World.

We'll figure something out.

[howtheyshine]

The warmth makes him ache, makes him reach back like he just saw John on deck and is demanding his attention, a childish eagerness that twines through tentative affection. It's not physical contact but it's as close as they can get, and it's something. It's soothing. It's a small piece of home.

Slowly, anxiety seeps into it again.

He's going to hurt people. He's... I'm going to... to have to hurt people.

[greatoldjohn]

You are.

He won't sugarcoat it.

But he would have hurt them anyway. He hurts people. It's not your fault. It won't be your fault.

[howtheyshine]

Yes it will.

Soft disagreement, a different kind of ache.

I liked... not having to hurt people.

But he knows just as well that he'll hurt and kill as many as he has to if it means staying out of the Dark World.

[greatoldjohn]

A soft, soft grip.

Unless you freely choose to hurt them, it's not your fault. He's forcing you.

Then-

I'm sorry.

[howtheyshine]

I know, but-- Larson won't care what happens to them. I have to. I have to care. I have to-- someone has t-to--

If he gets back to the barge, he can bring them back. Anyone he's going to hurt, anyone he's going to ruin on Larson's orders. He can bring them back with Hunter's deal. Even if it means...

Even if it means being stuck as a driftless in-between god until he can earn himself another. Or until John does.

I'm still responsible, e-even if... it's forced. I have to-- to--

He's not sure how to put it.

I have to honor what happens to them. E-even if I wouldn't do it without being... threatened.

I... was the King in Yellow. I don't remember, but I know what he did to people. It was his choice, but... saying it's not my fault because Larson is threatening me... I-I don't want to be someone who doesn't care when people are in pain again. I don't... want to make choices that take me... closer to him.

[greatoldjohn]

John is very quiet for a long time, but he makes sure that Edwin can feel him, knows he's there. He doesn't want him to doubt that for even a moment.

There's a difference between taking responsibility and accepting fault. You can care, and you can honor them. You're right. It's important.

But taking the blame leaves the person who's fault it really is off free.

Larson sounds like a dickhead, but he's a human being. He has the capacity to be better. He could choose not to.

His tone gets harder.

Know. Remember. Honor them properly.

And wait for your chance.

[howtheyshine]

It's bolstering, comforting, it makes him feel a little more sane, and suddenly Edwin is more determined than ever to get back to the barge somehow, more determined than ever to help John be free along with himself.

You're just like my brother. Y-you are my brother. If-- If you want to be.