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After @insane-control-room‘s announcement that their Joey would change after their newest installment of The Big Picture, I decided my Joey needed a last goodbye. So we kinda rped.
“Hey…Jo?” Freckle pokes his head in. “Are you…going somewhere? My creator saw something about that. I mean, the exact words were changing but…Um…” He fidgets a bit. Johan’s head lifts from his desk, working on his computer. He is silent a moment.
“I think I am going to die,” he says calmly, quietly, after a moment.
“What…What the Hell is that supposed to mean?!” Freckle stalks over. “You can’t just die!” He doesn’t mean to sound so accusatory, so angry. But he’s afraid. Johan stares at his hands.
“I don’t know,” he sighs, tired. “I can’t see anything past a few weeks from now, at best. Like there is nothing there. Dead zone.”
“But your story isn’t over!” Freckle’s not sure who he’s yelling at. “You can’t just disappear!”
“What do you mean, my story isn’t over?” Johan sinks in his wheelchair. “It should have ended long ago.”
“The thing my creator saw said it wasn’t over.” Freckle begins to pace, gnawing at his lip. “So it can’t be over. You…You can’t die. It’s your story and it can’t be over.” He doesn’t want it to be over. As long as it’s still going on, he has a friend. He needs a friend.
Johan’s thin fingers snake into his hair, and he fists his hands in an attempt to quell his anguish.
“There is nothing there,” is his hoarse reply. “It ends.”
“It can’t end,” Freckle mutters. “It can’t!” He hits the wall with his fist, then winces and draws his hand to his chest.
“It can’t.” He repeats weakly.
“Freckle, please,” Johan weakly says, not referring to anything in particular. He reaches to him with a scarred hand. Freckle hunches his shoulders, looking very much like a guilty child.
“I’m sorry.” He sits down beside Johan, taking Johan’s hand in his.
Johan leans his head on Freckle’s shoulder. "I’m glad you’re here.“
Freckle hesitates for a moment, then leans his head against Johan’s. "I’m…I’m glad to be here. You’re my friend and I care about you.”
“I love you man,” the young and tired man says, choking up. “I’m happy that you can… call me a friend.” Freckle’s expression softens.
“I love you too.” He whispers. Johan wraps him into an awkwardly angled hug, but tight and warm no less. Freckle lets out a soft laugh, returning the hug as best he can. Johan smells like cinnamon and spices as he hugs him tightly, swaying slightly.
“If I am, somehow, still alive,” Johan swallows. “Please, do come visit me….”
“I will.” He replies without hesitation. If Johan is still alive after whatever strange event his creator knows is coming, he will visit him. Maybe Johan won’t remember him anymore, but he doesn’t want to lose him. Johan’s watch buzzes, and he ignores it, hugging Freckle tighter still. He sniffles, and hides his face on his shoulder, trembling. Freckle wants to tell him that it will be alright. But he doesn’t know that. And he doesn’t want to make any more false promises.
“I’m here.” He says, gently patting Johan’s back. Johan shudders and quakes.
“I don’t want to die,” he bemoans.
“No one ever does,” Freckle says without thinking. His voice is dark and his eyes far away.
“I don’t want to die feeling like this,” Johan corrects himself. “Feeling wrong.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Freckle drags himself back to the present. If Jo is going to die, he wants him to be happy when it happens.
“You are now,” Johan whispers.
Freckle smiles again, soft and genuine. “I’m glad.”
Johan doesn’t want to let go, but his hips (why is he so feminine?) are starting to ache. He still doesn’t let go, but shifts a bit in pain.
“Are you okay?” Freckle feels his heart leap in panic. Why is he so afraid? Jo isn’t going to die. Not yet at least.
“I’m fine,” he lies as another electric pain shoots up his back, and he pulls away a little.
“Bullshit.” Freckle gives him a look. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?"
"Back,” Johan mutters. “From my whole… disability.”
Freckle nods, standing up and gathering Johan in his arms as best he can. “You got a couch nearby?”
Johan nods and looks to it, over by the left wall.
“Alright.” Freckle grunts a bit, making his way over. He is not a big man, neither in height nor weight, so it’s a bit difficult for him to carry a tall being like Jo. Johan blushes from being carried, and leans onto Freckle’s chest, closing his eyes. It feels nice.
“There we go.” Freckle lowers himself and Johan onto the couch so that they’re both laying down. Gods, he can’t remember the last time he actually spooned someone. Johan gives a small crying giggle, like a child that got a boo-boo might after being cheered up. He snuggles against him best he can with his weakened limbs.
“Hey,” he breathes, finding a patch of Freckle behind him and holding it gently. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Freckle gives him a big goofy grin. Johan can’t see it… but he can tell it’s there, and appreciates it. Satisfied, Freckle rests his head gently on Jo’s chest. Johan’s arms tighten a bit around him. It feels nice to be close.
Freckle stroked Johan’s hair, humming to himself. He wanted this to last forever. He wanted to just stay in this moment. He felt his old compulsions creeping up again. The old desire to force the world to conform to his will. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that again
Johan let out a soft chuckle, not a happy one. “You’re thinking too hard.”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” Freckle laughed weakly.
“Take it easy,” Johan mumbles. “It’s all gonna be alright.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Freckle nodded, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in his stomach. Everything was going to be alright. Their creators had a plan. It was going to be fine.
“That means a lot,” Johan whispered trying to hold on.
Freckle sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “Do you think it’ll go better this time around?” He asked. “Your story, I mean.”
Johan wrinkles his nose a bit. “No clue.”
“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know.” Freckle chuckles. “Here’s hoping, though. You deserve to be happy.”
“Mm.” Johan doesn’t agree in the slightest, but he’s far too exhausted to argue.
“You deserve to be happy.” Freckle insists, pressing his face into Johan’s hair. “You’re a good person.”
He can feel Norman’s blood on his chest, constricting, pressuring, just as the man’s body was in his death. He can hear Johnny’s wails, Sammy’s pleas, everyone’s suffering.
"No.“
"Well…A better person than me.” Freckle corrects himself, realizing his mistake. “You didn’t murder your whole studio just because you were afraid to admit you failed.” He’d been deliberately cruel. Experimenting, torturing. Their lives had been of no consequence as long as he could get what he wanted. Look at what that had gotten him.
Johan tucks his legs up, trying to make himself as small as possible. He’d never even come to as close as good as Freckle is.
“Hey. I can feel you being self-deprecating.” Freckle pokes Johan’s cheek. “Stop that now.” He tries a smile. It’s amazing how small a seven and a half foot man can make himself. He’s now nearly a hundred percent spherical, and he doesn’t reply.
Freckle sighs. “I guess I ruined the moment.” No wonder no one ever stuck around him. Whenever he opened his mouth he just stuck his foot in it.
“It’s not you,” Johan mutters. “I’m just. Bad. I don’t deserve you around at all.”
Freckle blinks, staring down at him. “I…You know what I’ve done right? The murder and the ink and the trapping? I’m not a good person. At least you felt bad about what you did. I didn’t feel bad until Esther forced me to acknowledge what I did.”
“You at least had a reason,” Johan whispers, somehow curling even more. He’s tired and cold. He still doesn’t want Freckle to go. Selfish.
“It was a stupid reason,” Freckle mutters, trying to distract himself from the fact that he will have to leave at some point. He doesn’t want to go. What if the new Johan hates him? What if he doesn’t want anything to do with him? What if he’s better?
“Still a reason.”
Despite himself, Freckle lets out a quiet laugh. “Fine. It was still a reason.”
Johan reaches out a hand to find Freckle. He’s so balled up he can’t tell left from right.
“You’re like a little kitten.” Freckle leans down so Johan can find his face. Johan squeaks embarrassedly, exactly as a kitten might, and the ends of his fingers curl in Freckle’s hair. He is very glad his face is hidden, as he doesn’t know how burning dark it is now.
Freckle’s smile widens. “You’re so cute.”
“Noooooo….”
“Yeeeees. You’re adorable.”
Johan’s pout is audible in his voice. “Prove it.”
“First of all, you’re adorable when you pout.” Freckle is trying very hard not to laugh. “Second, you’re curled up like a little kitten right now. Third, your hair does this really cute curly thing sometimes where it reflects your emotions."
Sounds indescribable escape Johan, and ironically, in that moment, his hair spikes up in surprise, and curls back in fluster.
"See? It’s doing the thing!” Freckle reaches out and pats his hair. “It’s like you’re a cat or something.”
“Most people say snake,” Johan manages to squeak, his hair curling around Freckle’s fingers slowly and steadily.
“Oh yeah. There’s some universe where you’re a naga or something.” Freckle’s voice goes quiet as he watches the hair curl around his fingers. Like snakes. Like a Medusa.
“I know that,” Johan smiles a little, though it’s nearly impossible to see with the way he’s curled. “Have you met that me?”
“No, but I know Esther has.” Freckle stifles a snort. “She tried to take him home.”
“Oh my goodness,” Johan giggles a little. “Poor snake’s never even seen a house and she planned on taking him home.”
“She likes to think she’s the sensible one, but she’s the one who always brought home stray animals.” Freckle snickers. “She’s always been the mothering type.”
“Mhm.” Johan seems to have uncurled a bit.
“She probably embarrasses those kids of hers all the time.” Freckle laughs. His smile quickly fades though.
“Heh, yeah…” Johan smiles a bit, and unfurls some more. “Kids are like that.”
“Especially Rachel.” Freckle’s gaze softens. “She’s just like I was at that age. So desperate to be grown up and mature.”
“Weren’t we all?” Johan chuckles a little. “Until we grow up and want to be kids again.”
Freckle nods, his smile fading.
“Makes me wish I could go back and do it over.” He pauses, then snorts. “God, I sound old.”
“Me too,” Johan says almost inaudibly after a minute.
Freckle lapses into silence, stroking Johan’s hair absentmindedly. “I hope you get to do it over.”
Nothing else is said, even when Freckle has to depart, his heart heavy. He hopes things will be better for Johan. He hopes the other man will be happier this time. He hopes he’ll still remember him.