howtheyshine | SPRING BREEAKKKKK;

SPRING BREEAKKKKK;

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

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.

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?

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.

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?

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

A soft, soft grip.

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

Then-

I'm sorry.

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.

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.

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.

Brothers...

It's obvious he's considering the word as much as the concept, but the connection between them is what it is. It's honest if it's anything, and if he doesn't want Edwin to feel alone, he has to keep it flowing.

And the flow is longing. It's been rough since he got back. Really really rough.

I...

I don't know how much I'm like him. It sounds as if he's... he sounds as if he's much farther along in becoming human than I... ~~will ever be~~ am. But I

I want

I want to be your brother.

A pause before-

If you're sure.

Edited 2024-04-06 14:01 (UTC)

He's had more time than we have.

It's Edwin's turn to pour out faith, belief in John--both versions.

I'm sure.

There's a haze of weary amusement, but: I'm not sure about much, but I'm sure about that.

All right.

Then I...

I'll see what I can do about Collins and, after a moment, And about telling Arthur about you.

Hope. "Hope" is the thing with feathers--

(Red feathers and one kind eye--)

W-we can do this. We can.

We can.

That means you too.

It's there between them, the hope Edwin can't justify but won't try to smother. He needs it. They both do.

Yes.

...I'm the older brother this time.

DECLARATIVE, DEFINITIVE, MATTER SETTLED.

...I don't think that switches.

With a massively unwarranted degree of consideration:

How long have you been John now?

...why?

Skeptical!

Because I'm-- six months old now.

Five. He's five months old technically.

So I might be older than you.

(no subject)

greatoldjohn - 2024-04-24 19:36 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

howtheyshine - 2024-04-24 19:41 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All