Work Text:
To John’s credit, he at least waited until Arthur had stumbled a third time on this particular block before he spoke up.
Arthur, stop. Let’s just go back for now, we can follow up on the article after you get some rest.
Arthur knew it was coming, but he still sucked in a breath at the cold chill of adrenaline in his center. Well, at least he was a little more alert now. He grit his teeth and continued marching along, refusing to dignify John with a response.
Arthur! Fucking hell, will you stop before you walk directly into traffic again!
Arthur did at least slow his pace at that, taking a moment to listen to his surroundings in an effort to gauge how far from the next intersection he might be. The sounds of the city seemed to blur together into white noise momentarily before coming back into focus, leading Arthur to begrudgingly bring himself to a stop.
Fuck, Arthur. Just. Head to your right a bit, there’s a corner of a building that leads to an alley without many people walking by where we can— yes, there.
“John, we’re so close to finding out where the Order is hiding. We can’t just waste our time when we still have the Butcher right on our heels.” Arthur snapped, his hand coming up to brace against the brick wall of whatever storefront they were stopped by when he felt himself begin to sway. “We barely managed to shake him off yesterday when he caught sight of us outside of the library.”
Arthur could feel John’s agitation roiling inside of him, a stirring weight that did not blend well with the cloudy pressure already filling his head.
Yes, and you haven’t slept for a second since then. And I don’t think you did the night before that either. You’ve reached the point where it’s even impacting my vision, Arthur. I know you’re— He paused to take a breath, clearly taking a moment to choose his words. Arthur narrowed his eyes.
I know that our first night here was… A lot. I don’t know all of the details and I’m not… I’m not going to ask you for more than you already shared, but—”
“But nothing, John! It happened, it’s done. That… demon ran off and we still have a job to accomplish here.” Arthur cut him off, his own building irritation boiling over at last. “I get it , John. Really. I’m glad that you care about my well-being, but what I really need right now is to get this fucking over with so that we can get out of this goddamn city!”
Arthur! Would you just shut the fuck up and listen to me? This isn’t just some rush to be done with everything. You’re avoiding sleeping and it’s going to get us fucking killed. You can barely walk and now I can’t even fucking see straight, we’re going to die if the Butcher finds us like this. That’s assuming you don’t just walk straight into a moving car or fall down a goddamn open manhole knowing our luck.
“I’m not avoiding anything, John!” Arthur hissed, firmly ignoring John’s interjection of bullshit , letting his hand guide him along the wall as he stepped further into the small alley away from the street. Better to keep moving than to stand still if he didn’t want his exhaustion to catch up to him. He could already feel his senses blurring once more. “I did try to sleep the other night if you’ll remember.”
And he had tried. It wasn’t as though that first night was particularly restful after what had happened with Mr. Scratch. He was still exhausted the following night and eagerly craved the rest. Except Arthur had then tossed and turned for hours, dreading whether anything would happen when he did finally manage to slip into unconsciousness. Though Scratch had seemingly left the building after knocking Arthur out once more, they had no way of knowing where the demon had gone.
He knew that at some point he did fall asleep, however briefly, because the next thing he’d been aware of was him throwing the blankets off of himself in a panic, clutching blindly at his stomach with the shadowy hiss of a voice fresh in his mind.
My favorite…
The worst thing about a dream demon, Arthur later realized bitterly, was that once he’s experienced it once, there was no way of knowing for sure if any further incidents were real or simply his own mind recreating the new horrors it had to play with. At the very least, John had assured him that he hadn’t moved anywhere beyond the tossing and turning. Regardless, sleep had been out of the question after that.
Then they’d spotted the Butcher that next day and, well. No reason to risk leading him to where they were staying. They’d also just found a lead on the Order of the Fallen Star that might mean avoiding Daniel entirely, which Arthur was more than eager to pursue. If it meant skulking around the city through the night to scout the addresses they’d found instead of risking another visit in his nightmares, Arthur would simply count it as a bonus.
Of course that wasn’t all to say that Arthur wasn’t aware of his exhaustion. John made no effort to hide his concern and Arthur could feel himself slowing down. It was fine though. As long as they could get through this and get out of this city, get away from wherever Scratch might be lurking in wait, then Arthur could sleep. Until then, he would just have to push on. He’d done so in Addison. This was no different.
John started to say something in response. Or at least, Arthur assumed he did based on the deep rumble in his head that frankly sounded as though it were trapped behind many layers of cotton as a wave of vertigo overcame him suddenly.
—ur! Arthur!
Was his cheek always pressed up against the wall? A throbbing sensation reached his awareness from his knees as he realized that at some point he’d wound up on the ground, John’s hand braced in front of him, evidently having prevented Arthur from completely sprawling onto his face.
The new position brought with it a momentary flash. Arthur shouting in fury and agony before his awareness was forcibly shifted, John shouting his name desperately, suddenly in a place he hadn’t been aware of moving to, a creature now freed by his hand beginning to circle his frozen form. A flash of terror coursed through him and he could feel a burning sensation beginning to grow behind his eyes as he shifted his weight and spun until his back was pressed to the wall, head twisting to look around frantically. “John! W-where is—? Where did I—”
Arthur! Stop moving so— A hand touched the side of his face and Arthur jerked back with a hitch in his breath that immediately morphed into a yelp as the motion cracked his head against the brick wall behind him. Fuck! Arthur bent forward with a hiss to place his head between his knees, gasping for breath as his hand clutched at the back of his head while the tears that had been building finally spilled.
Jesus fucking Christ. John’s tone softened, his hand reaching out once more to rest over his chest— firm, though not enough to stifle his breathing. A steady presence.
Arthur, you’re alright but I need you to breathe for me. You just fell, we haven’t gone anywhere. There’s nobody else here right now.
Arthur tried. Really he did. He sucked in a deep hiccupping breath, but it seemed that now he’d started crying, a tide was unleashed and he could do nothing but follow it through. He was so goddamn tired, every cell in his body was screaming for sleep and yet… God, he couldn't keep doing this.
“I’m scared, John. Is that— That’s what you wanted to say earlier. That I’m scared to fall asleep.” Arthur’s voice broke toward the end but John thankfully didn’t say anything in response, simply rubbing his thumb in small soothing gestures over his clavicle. Arthur could feel his weight slumping further into himself, so he forced his head back upright, thankfully stopping this time before it met the wall again. At least the sting at the back of his head was something to focus on.
“I wasn’t, at first. When I was still asleep that night. I was just angry. Another fucking monster that wanted me to suffer for its enjoyment. The only real difference was that this one really knew how to make it hurt. It was already my own pain.” Arthur trailed off briefly. Did he really want to talk about all of this? It was almost certainly just the sleep deprivation pushing him forward, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “It only really changed when he got tired of me refusing to play his games. It wasn’t like the King back in the Dreamlands, John.”
John’s hand stilled on his chest. What do you mean?
Arthur gingerly tipped his head back until it was resting against the wall. “All of the King’s whispers and hallucinations were entirely under his control from start to finish. This was… regardless of Mr. Scratch’s influence, it was still my dream. Once I was aware that I was asleep, I could control it to an extent, even if I was being prevented from waking up.
“Whenever I tried to fight back though, whether it was standing my ground against him or choosing a… a happy memory to experience, he would just. Take over. Suddenly I was powerless against whatever he chose to do.”
Arthur shuddered at the memory of long clawed hands reaching inside of him, pulling his own organs outside of his body. He brought his hand back down to his stomach, where he could feel the stitches John placed there mere days earlier.
“And then I wake up and… Not only had my every choice played exactly into his hand as he puppeted my body, but I still couldn’t move. I had no control and was fucking powerless to do anything. Even when we faced the King on the plateau I could still—”
Arthur… John’s voice took on a wary edge, his arm sliding across until he could grab onto Arthur’s right arm, holding him in an embrace. You had no way of knowing what was happening. I wasn’t able to get through to you, and you didn’t wake up until he wanted you to. We know what he’s capable of now, so we can find a way to fight it.
“How, when Mr. Scratch can trap me inside of my own mind and turn it into his own personal playground to torture me however he wants?” Arthur laughed, a dry mirthless thing, as he reached up to hold onto John’s arm.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? Here I am. Terrified of an entity taking and moving my body against my will while it throws whatever it knows will hurt me about my past at me.”
John’s grip tightened suddenly— a choked, pained sound escaping him. Arthur, I don’t—
“I know.” Arthur glanced down and tugged at John’s arm. John promptly let go and Arthur took the opportunity to grab his hand, bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I know, John.”
Just know that… I am here for you, Arthur. I will do everything I can to keep you safe. I promise.
They sat in silence together for a while, until Arthur’s eyes began to drift closed and his head began to tip. John carefully extricated his hand from Arthur’s and tapped at his cheek.
Arthur, wake up. We can find the nearest motel and rest there for the night. It’s not safe to sleep outside on the street here.
Arthur grumbled but cracked his eyes open. It seemed like there was no avoiding that sleep would be happening whether he liked it or not, but John was watching out for him and he was right. Now that they knew what to watch out for, they might be able to work out a system to ensure nothing bad happens.
For now, he forced his body back up to standing, John helping to support his body against the wall as he turned back toward the main street, shuffling under John’s careful guidance toward rest.