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"Homeopathy,” Neil corrected. “It’s some natural medicine thing, it’s all herbs and stuff, but here’s the brilliant part. They’re diluted like a hundred times until it’s basically just water. You’re literally selling people nothing.”
Billy thought that sounded extremely stupid. Surely people could tell if the supposed medicine they were being sold did nothing. But he couldn’t say no to Neil. There was something about his face— even when you knew he was trying to play you, part of you felt like it might be a good idea to let him. Just to see what happened next.
[Cornelius Hickey starts a small business selling alternative medicine products. What could possibly go wrong?]
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Things change for Solomon Tozer and his daemon as the years pass on the Terror ...
Series
- Part 2 of Daemons of the Terror
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Billy and his daemon never meant to involve themselves with Cornelius Hickey. It just sort of happened ...
Series
- Part 3 of Daemons of the Terror
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When he takes the name Cornelius Hickey, his daemon has to change her name too.
Series
- Part 1 of Daemons of the Terror
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Goodsir had watched him with an expression somewhere between distaste and pity. “Would it not be worth it, to finally be free of the devil?”
The beast would still be hunting us all, Sol had thought, and what’s one devil dead when that thing can tear a man’s soul from his body—“He’s not the devil,” Sol had said. “There’s far worse than Cornelius Hickey tracking us.”
A strange look came over the doctor, and he had again reached for the poison. “Very well then, Sergeant. I’ll dispatch of one devil for you, if you finish the other.”
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In which Solomon Tozer tries to convince himself that he is bringing Hickey to justice.
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It took a few rings for Tozer to pick up. “Hello?” he said a little gruffly. “Who’s this?”
“It’s Billy Gibson,” Billy said, heart pounding so hard they could feel it in the back of their throat. They prayed Tozer wouldn’t just hang up on them immediately. “You know, Cornelius’ husband?”
“I know who you are,” Tozer said. “What do you want?”
Billy winced, and ran a hand through their hair. They hadn’t really planned this far ahead. “I don’t know, I just figured maybe we should talk.”
Series
- Part 5 of Homewrecker AU
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Billy and Cornelius did not meet under the best of circumstances, and neither of them had been their best selves yet. For one thing, Billy had still identified as a man, though without much conviction. Cornelius, meanwhile, had been working a rotating range of mostly-legal odd jobs, all of which he hated.
They had met in a club in London. Cornelius had found his attention repeatedly drawn to the delicate wrists and distinguished cheekbones of one specific person drinking at the bar. But he had more urgent priorities that night. So he had given this long-limbed, flat-arsed stranger a discerning glance, and decided to try and lift his wallet. He was a bit out of practice, but it was right there, in his back pocket, and he needed the cash.
(This is the real and indisputably true story of how Billy Gibson and Cornelius Hickey fell in love.)
Series
- Part 4 of Homewrecker AU
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Billy had never thought of himself as the caretaking type. His mother hadn’t lingered prior to her death, and he’d planned to be well away at sea long before his father ever entered his dotage. Let that be a burden for his sisters to manage, or his father’s young new wife.
It was different when it was Cornelius, though.
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Hickey must’ve seen the pots, before he ever entered Henry’s tent. No matter; Henry’s seen the spring in his step. “What? You thought you had a monopoly on horrors, Mr. Hickey?”
Hickey’s response comes slow once more. His gaze, Henry is starting to suspect, is considering. “I thought I had a monopoly on good sense.”
Or: two reasonable men at the end of the earth.
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There’s a definite difference between believing you have a soul, and being there to see it.
Snapshots of The We We Are, in a daemon AU.
Series
- Part 1 of Sense of Self
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Mark's first day on the job – his first day of existence – could probably be going better.
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Mark's only been alive for a few weeks now, and he’s already getting sick of it. The confined space, the endless work, the awful punishments. He wants to disappear. He chokes out a sob and digs his blunt nails into his arms, chest heaving as he tries to quiet himself down.
When Mark starts coming into work with "elevator allergies," Petey takes it upon himself to cheer him up.
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Something has happened that has pulled all of Lumon management away from the severed floor. Somehow, Ms Casey finds herself back in the dark hallway, but there's no Milchick to stop her from leaving. There's something she just has to know, so she runs to MDR.
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Title from a translation of Cái Trâm Em Cài (The Pin in My Hair) by Hoàng Thi Thơ a song everyone should listen to right now
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Mark understands the shape of it well enough — whatever happened to his body isn't any of his business, aside from the knowledge that Mark can still be held accountable and punished for the reality of it. Mr. Milchick hadn't lied: Mark's situation has shifted, but it hasn't changed.
Mark S. returns to work after the stroke.
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Mark never learned how to take care of the plants. It wasn’t really something he’d thought much of. He’d glanced at Gemma spritzing the leaves, and sometimes, he’d been in the room while she trimmed or repotted them when they were ready. To him, she possessed some sort of connection to them that he didn’t understand. She had some mystical knowledge about what they needed and when they needed it. She was a caretaker.
He is not.
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Mark tries to take care of Gemma's plants after her death. Pre-main series timline, informed by the events of 2x07.
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After the publication of the Lexington Letter online, a desperate redditor looks for answers.
Series
- Part 1 of Lumonposting
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Some good things happen the night they activate the OTC protocol. Not a lot of them, but some.
Or, one thing from each innies' trip outside (and inside, as it were) that didn't suck. As much.
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There's a lot of fucking things Dylan wishes he'd said to Irv. About a million of them, actually. Which, of course, he's just lost his chance to do, forever. Just his luck.
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“What the hell happened?” Helly asks. Her voice is hoarse. Half drowned.
“At the ORTBO?” Dylan starts. We-”
“Since the OTC,” she corrects him. “It was the last time-” her hands shake and she has to stop to take a breath. “How long has it been?”
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The last thing Helly R remembers before waking up half frozen in the wilderness, is being tackled during the Lumon gala, after learning she was the worst person in the world, as she pleaded for innies' freedom. She has a lot to learn from what happened since. None of which will be easy to hear.
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Helly had always believed there were things worse than living out her entire life between a puke-green rug and a hard place. She just hadn’t known what they were yet.
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ambiguously post-2x04.