Chapter Text
A cold November wind whipped through the city, biting through John’s clothes and making him feel numb. When he got back to the brownstone, he was certain that he’d immediately throw himself into the fireplace. Becoming kindling would be an efficient way to defrost. However, once he got to the door, all those thoughts left his head. Standing in the already open doorway was a burly, frightening man, with calloused hands and eyes that had been dead for at least 20 years. They stared at eachother for a moment.
“Pardon me,” the man said gruffly.
He shoved his way past John, who looked like a flower stem with eyes, by comparison.
John swore to himself and went inside, peeling off his shoes and coat as he dashed into the parlor. Von Helrung and his wife were cuddled up together on the couch, sipping tea and joking with each other in German.
“Oh, Johnny!” said Frau Helrung, standing up to greet him. “I was starting to get worried. Ach, look at you, your face is even redder than your hair!”
She put her hands on his cheeks, and he nearly flinched at how hot they felt.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Who?” von Helrung replied, furrowing his brow.
“The man that just left.”
“Oh, that was a locksmith!” said von Helrung. “I hired him to fix the lock on Pellinore’s door. You know how he complains. Besides, it’s been broken for years. Better now than never, as they say!”
John frowned.
“But why does Pell care?”
Von Helrung shrugged. “I suppose he’s tired of you barging in there and pestering him at all hours. And hiding the organs and other such things under his bed sheets. Things I need for my research, might I add?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, in my defense, it’s hilarious,” John said.
“Oh, you little brat!” Frau Helrung laughed, slapping him on the arm.
For a small woman, she was rather strong, and John nearly fell over.
“And I’m certain he hasn’t forgiven you for the bean incident last month,” added von Helrung.
“I have no regrets.”
“You should apologize anyway,” said Frau Helrung, taking on a scolding tone. “The poor dear already felt uncomfortable in public, and you made it worse! He rarely leaves the house now, let alone his room.”
“He was talking with that locksmith, though,” said von Helrung. “I consider that a success. You know how he hates to talk to strangers.”
“Ah, yes, I agree!” Frau Helrung said, beaming. “I am so proud! I did tell him that, but he gave me a look that was… ach, if looks could kill!”
She laughed loudly, as did her husband.
“He gives me that look all the time! Why, you’d swear it’s just his face!”
They laughed even louder.
John escaped upstairs and ran to Pell’s room. He tried to open the door, and instead of popping open after a bit of a push as it did before, it held tight. He sighed and started to pound on it.
“Pell! Come on, open up! PELL!”
There was no response.
“Pell, I know you’re in there, you always are. Talk to me!”
He heard the slow scrape of a chair, and apprehensive footsteps coming towards the door.
“What do you want?”
“Let me in!”
“Why should I?” said Pellinore. “For all I know, you’re just going to pull another one of your disgusting pranks.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Are you joking?”
“...Alright, look, I promise I won’t do anything, Pell. I don’t have anything, I swear!”
There were several clicks, and the door opened just wide enough that he could see a big brown eye peering out at him.
“You swear?”
“On my mother’s grave!”
“Your mother isn’t dead.”
“Yet.”
“That’s an ominous thing to say.”
Pellinore opened up more so part of his face could be seen, but the door was stopped short by a gold chain.
“A chain?! Are you kidding?! I thought the man only fixed the original lock!”
“Shhh,” Pellinore hissed. “I had a few more added for good measure.”
“Wh- wha… how many did you add!?”
“Five.”
“Five?! Have you gone mad!?”
Pellinore shrugged.
John quieted down a bit and leaned in closer. “How did you even pay for those? Did you steal money from Meister Abram?”
“No! No, I would never steal from him, or ever in general! I used money my father sent me.”
“Your father sends you money? I thought he doesn’t talk to you.”
“He doesn’t, but he sends me checks sometimes. The only reason I know it’s him is because they’re sent from my address.”
“So you spent lord knows how much of it on five locks. Isn’t that a little excessive?”
“I’m taking all the necessary precautions.”
“What? Are you afraid the maid will catch you masturbating?”
Pellinore blushed furiously. “Wh-what!? No! I don’t- SHUT UP, JOHN!”
“See? I can still bother you through the door, you don’t even have to let me in.”
“All I ask is for you to leave me alone sometimes, and you never listen! So I obtained a way to make sure you do! Now go away, I have to study.”
Pellinore shut the door in John’s face.
“By God, you’re such a little… let me in!”
“No.”
“Come on, Pell!”
“No!”
“Pellie?”
“Go away.”
“Pellisnore? Pellibore? Pelican Warthog? Pineapple Whisking?”
“Sure, I’ll open the damn door… THEN SLAM IT SHUT RIGHT ON YOUR FINGERS!”
“Just let me in, Pell!”
This time, there was no response. John slid to the floor and leaned against the door.
“I’m not going away until you let me in…!”
Still, Pellinore didn’t reply.
“...Are you alright in there?”
Quiet.
“Pell? Seriously, are you trying to ignore me or something? Because it isn’t working. I’ll have you know that I can be very patient when needed be!”
John strained to hear. There wasn’t the scratching of a pencil, or the tapping of a foot. He couldn’t even hear Pellinore breathing.
“Pellinore! Seriously, this isn’t funny.”
John turned around. “Pell! Hey, Pell, come on! PELL?!”
He laid down on his stomach, and looked through the gap, only to see Pellinore staring back at him.
“PELL?! JESUS!”
Pellinore laughed.
“I thought you had dropped dead for a second!”
“You’re not patient John, but I am. I expected you to get bored and leave… were you really so concerned about me? I was only silent for a minute.”
“...Open the door.”
“No.”
“What do you want from me?! I know it’s not just about me annoying you!”
“Actually, it has everything to do with that. You’re very mean.”
“Are you really going to be a child about it?”
“I don’t know how I’m being a child, I merely want you to treat me with respect.”
“But this is how ALL friends act!”
“Who said that we’re friends?! You’re horrid to me, you say and do disgusting things, you publicly humiliate me whenever you have the chance, you leave buckets of blood and formaldehyde above my door, you put a heart in my pillow yesterday, and let us not forget what you did to me at the last society meeting-”
“Alright, alright, I get the point!”
“Good. Now, as I requested before, please leave. I still have much writing to do.”
“Von Helrung didn’t assign us any writing…”
Pellinore didn’t respond, but he saw him go back to his desk and sit down.
“...Pell… please let me in.... I promise I’ll behave myself, really…. I mean, what’s the point of having the same teacher if we can’t study together?”
Once again, he was ignored. John stood up and sighed.
“Look Pell, I won’t deny any of the things you said… I know I’m rude, and gross, and like to tease you - I mean, let’s be honest, you make it far too easy - but, I do consider you a friend. A brother, almost. And I’m sorry.”
He heard the chair scrape once again, and the door opened slightly.
“What did you say?”
“That I love you like a brother?”
“No, the last thing.”
“Oh… that I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry!”
“You’re….?”
“I’M SORRY THAT I’M AN ASSWIPE TO YOU AND THAT I PUT ORGANS IN YOUR BED AND PUT BEAN PASTE IN YOUR TEA SO THAT YOU FARTED THE WHOLE WHILE YOU WERE TRYING TO GIVE THE DAMN SPEECH EVEN THOUGH IT WAS HYSTERICAL, OKAY?!”
Pellinore grinned and undid the chain, opening the door all the way.
“I heard you the first time, I just wanted to milk it.”
“...I hate you,” said John, but he was smiling too.