Archive of Our Own

It was a simple request, John thought as they entered past the ticket booth. The whole time they were in New York John kept seeing flyers for something called Luna Park on Coney Island. He asked Arthur a couple times in the past about it when he was….well…less physical. Arthur had always said they didn’t have time or that it was too loud. John looked over the bustling crowd of people and instantly the atmosphere of the whole place overwhelmed him. He could smell food being made and watched as groups of people laughed as they tried their hand at some menial games at the booths. Soon afterwards some were handed small prizes by men in straw boater hats and red and white vests. 

“Arthur there’s so many people here.”

“It’s not that different from New York”

“Yes but it's….different.”

“Different?”

“Yes.”

“Just remember, we’re not here for much amusement.”

“Of course. I know that Arthur.”

John linked his arm with Arthur’s as he guided him further down the wooden planks of the boardwalk.   He scanned the groups of people who had stopped to admire the small sideshow booths, then cringed at some of the more egregious titles: “Snake woman of the Congo”, “The Demon of Belize”, and “The Elephant Man” were just a few he caught. He let his lone eye drift over the crowds gathered on the beach, and his interest piqued at the sight of people wading into the water or splashing each other. 

Kids  ran up and down the sand, happily yelling and kicking up sea water in the shallows. A smaller girl fell into sand and ran to her mom, crying and burrowing her face into the sunbathing mother. A man twirled his partner in the shallows, her hair wildly flying out behind her as she spun and eventually collapsed into the water with him.

His heart tugged, the urge to run and stick his toes in the sand and in the water itself,to chase after the children and join whatever game it was that caused them to erupt into loud laughter, was so very tempting. His lone eye looked up at the horizon and to the blue sky that stretched out beyond it, fluffy clouds drifting lazily by and mixing with the smoke from passing ships. Arthur stopped, noticing that John was no longer walking and gently tapped his arm to remind John to keep going.

John huffed, this Eugene Buchanon they need to look into was not only involved with this Cult of The Fallen Star, but also possibly the cult that granted him this new body,according to a letter Arthur had found tucked into one of the Cultist’s front pockets; further information from his apartment landlord revealed that he worked here at Luna Park. John’s thoughts were interrupted by a passing group loudly chatting as they passed the duo, pointing at some side show done in poor taste or outright mockery. John pulled himself back to reality, and instead decided to focus on his manner of dress.

He straightened out the wrinkles and the edges of the bodice of his yellow and black checkered dress,the collar  ironed smooth and trimmed with a small star sewn on the front with white thread. Arthur, despite his lack of sight, constantly grumbled to himself about saving money or to not steal little trinkets from stores over the past few weeks. John honestly couldn't help it, having a physical form after all this time allowed him to express his true self. He was truly grateful Arthur never made a negative comment about John’s more feminine choices despite his deeper voice, not after he had gently told John about the close mindedness of others of this world. John wasn’t stupid; he knew the absurdity of assigned sex and gender ever since Arthur brought it up, and it was one of the few human qualities John rejected entirely. It was also the one that caused him the most frustration.. It was below him to obey most of the tiny insignificant social rules people made up, let alone ones that barely made any sense. 

“Have you seen the booth we’re looking for John?” Arthur slowed to a stop, wiping his brow and face with a handkerchief.

“Booth?”

“Eugene? The man who would know something about the order of the fallen star? The star seer? Have you seen his booth?”

“No, so far I’ve only seen anything and everything except that. I assumed 'freak show' would mean monsters or creatures, not human beings.”

“Sorry, I should have warned you.”

“It’s fine, I’m not upset, Arthur just slightly put off.”

John pulled out a hand mirror and used it to  brush back  strands of hair poking out from his headscarf and adjust his hat. Dark curls poked out from the yellow fabric and a human looked back in the reflection. A single yellow eye glimmered from the cast shadow of the larger brimmed hat he wore, the other partially closed and unseeing. John lifted a silk gloved hand to the blind eye and traced the faint scar that reached the far corner of his face. A reminder of his- their- ordeal.

The exchange had been painful, and all John could remember was the burning white hot pain of feeling his entire being being ripped out of Arthur's skull.Though it was nothing compared to what Arthur went through in that hashed together ritual. John glanced over at his partner, checking the place where Arthur's eyes should be under the dark circular sunglasses he wore. Eyelids permanently sewn shut with stitches extending from his right eye from the mistake they made. John was grateful they were clumsy enough to not succeed in bringing the King in Yellow into this existence due to their stupidity, but now he had one less eye than before and Arthur none. Arthur insisted on hiding his "eyes" from the public and for some reason it was the only scar he did not seemingly want to bear. He’d mentioned something about looking ghastly and unpleasant to the eyes to which, of course, John always said 'fuck them, you look fine ' in response.

That sentiment saddened John; even though Arthur didn't seem to mind being blind it almost seems like he missed his eyes more than his sight. Maybe he missed the closeness they had sharing both mind and soul. John kept his arm linked to Arthur at all times now, mostly just because it was easier to keep pace with him and partly because John missed the physical touch. John put the mirror away as he felt Arthur tap his elbow.

"I hear someone coming up behind us, act normal-"

"HELLO YOU LOVELY COUPLE! TWO LOVEBIRDS OUT AND ABOUT ON A FINE SUMMER DAY IN JUNE?"

A short surly man with a curled white mustache wearing a straw boater  seemingly popped into John's sight. He wore a white toothy grin between two rosy cheeks and squinty tiny blue eyes peering over the raised cheekbones. The watch chain in the man's pocket jingled, dangling from the candy cane striped vest he wore. He bowed and held out his hand to John, the straw boater taken off his head revealing combed back white hair, a pitiful attempt to hide a bald spot.

John felt confused until Arthur, seeming to sense his trouble, leaned over,

"Is something wrong?" Arthur whispered.

"The man he's…. holding out his hand"

"He wants a handshake"

"Ah yes, right."

John internally smacked himself, forgetting that gesture of politeness was a thing with others. He took the man's hand in his expecting a firm shake until he saw this old worm lean over and kiss his hand. John couldn't help but feel himself both squirm at the gesture and feel confusion.

"It's so nice to meet you, miss. You sure are the prettiest thing on this fine day in June."

John was ready to snap at this man, for many reasons in his head including the fact this man was a complete stranger. He opened his mouth to speak and Arthur interrupted.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. My wife, Maureen doesn't talk much but I'm sure she appreciates it."

John turned to Arthur, despite his blindness he gave him a solid look of anger but gritted his teeth and smiled with venom at this short little creep.

“Charmed….”John thought to himself about later asking Arthur what was wrong with this fucking man. He slid his gaze to the greeter, trying to assess what he could want and leaned over to Arthur, to murmur in his ear.

“He seems to be a possible employee or someone working the carnival, he’s wearing a striped vest and a straw boater-“

“My, my madame, you seem to be one for gossip! It simply tickles me to know that you participate in such salacious activities. I come bearing great juicy details of something that is sure to give your lovely friends a-twittering about for years to come!”

Then it hit John, he’s a con man, a phony. Most likely one of the men hosting those cheap booths. Jon let out a cold laugh and linked his arm with Arthur’s harshly.

“I’m not interested in those sorts of things neither is my husband either.”

 Arthur tensed at John grabbing his arm and sighed, 

“Typically those booths aren’t really interesting to us, however we are looking for someone. He’s an old family friend of ours, Eugene Buchanon?”

The man furrowed his brow and John could see the mustache curl under the man’s lips. His eyes darted to the side, avoiding his gaze. He knew something . John tapped Arthur with his finger, a signal that something was up.

“No, I’ve never heard of him. Maybe you’re confusing someone similar! We do have Madonna the lady from the stars as a booth-“

He changed the subject

John felt his heart race and felt his fake smile morph into a genuine one. He almost felt giddy being able to investigate again. The feeling only got more intense as the man kept rambling and the sweat beaded up on his forehead. Either it was the heat of the day or the pressure getting to this man. Arthur changed his stance and cocked his head,

“I want you to be honest with me. Where is Eugene?” 

Arthur’s brows furrowed, his face melting into a cold scowl.

The man stopped and his face dropped.

“I…look…he doesn’t work here anymore-“

“Liar.”

John forgot he was a physical person for a moment as soon as he saw the man react in fear. The man started to fiddle with the hem of his vest, sweat starting to roll down his forehead, eyes darting to look at the ground.

“L-look whatever connections you two have, I don't want any trouble. Eugene just up and disappeared last night, no note or anything. The only thing I know is our boss saw him take a boat sometime in the early hours of the morning”

John growled, they paid for the stupid ticket here, not stopping to do anything fun, only to be told the man they were  looking for had fled the coop. John chewed on his lip, wondering if somehow he’d known they were coming. If that was the case that meant they were being followed, but after everything with the Butcher they were way too jumpy now. Even the slightest hint of them being stalked would have been noticeable….right? 

He saw Arthur process for a moment then ask,

“Do you know where your boss is?”

“Not at this moment, why?” 

Arthur let out a sigh and turned to John, his arm still linked with his. His face relaxed and started to step away from the man with the straw boater.

“Let’s go, it’s likely that he’s gone for the rest of the day.”

John felt angry and most of all not sure why Arthur wasn’t pushing for more answers. He gave a death glare to the shorter man, then followed after Arthur. Their footsteps quickly pattered off away from the man.

“What are we doing? I thought we came here for this Eugene and clearly this man knows where he is, so why are we leaving?”

“Because Eugene is likely not going to be in New York, and his boss is expecting us to arrive.”

John paused and the resolution clicked in his head,

“That explains why that man acted strange towards us, none of the other employees came up to us.”

“Also why Eugene fled at the last minute…”

“Exactly.”

“Are we in danger? Fuck, Arthur, are we being watched?”

John looked over the sea of people in a desperate attempt to spot anyone looking their way. The crowds seemed to almost blend together into one large mass and John let out a hiss of frustration. He started to push his away through the bustling mass and growled in frustration, Arthur sighed before answering,

“Probably, but either way we should vanish into the crowd. Where is it the most crowded? We might lose him there.”

John looked at the boardwalk then to the crowded beach behind them and immediately started moving, dragging Arthur in the direction of the beach. He quickly hurried down the wooden steps and felt his feet sink into the warm sand. 

John let themselves disappear into the sea of people, and looked back occasionally to check if they were being followed. Arthur helped them speed up a fair bit, speeding ahead of John kicking up sand. Eventually they were along the middle of the beach and John started to relax, secretly happy to be on the beach and blended into the crowd.

“I don’t see anyone…maybe we were being paranoid Arthur.”

“It’s possible, but I don’t want another situation where we think we’re safe and get surprised.”

“Agreed, I doubt whoever it is will go onto the crowded beach.”

John’s face screwed up like he bit a lemon, feeling sand make its way into his shoes and socks. He looked at Arthur and read the same expression on his face. 

“Maybe we should at least remove our shoes, John.”

“I couldn’t agree more, my friend”

John slid off his shoes and held them in one hand. Arthur followed suit and they vanished further into the crowd. After a few seconds of walking Arthur sat on the sand and took off his hat, wiping sweat off his forehead. His dirty blonde hair stuck to his head, damp from the heat of the summer day. Arthur sighed and unbuttoned his shirt slightly, relief washing over his face when the breeze picked up and seemed to cool him off. John didn’t notice before but Arthur had sweat through the white button up, the shirt now transparent and clinging in patches. In fact, John felt himself heating up in the sun and it reminded him exactly how blisteringly hot it was.

John took off his hat, ignoring the stares from a few people sitting close by and then the headscarf he wore under it. He combed his fingers through his curly locks and lifted his skirt to join Arthur on the sand. He watched the waves curling in and out, occasionally interrupted by a sprinting child or chattering young couple strolling past. John glanced over at Arthur, examining the details of his face and the healing scars that reflected the sunlight. Arthur’s furrowed brows and his mustache seemed to almost twitch as if alive, obviously  deep in thought, possibly brainstorming what they should do next. John after a few moments got up, letting out a noise of discomfort.

“Arthur, we’re both getting too hot in the sun.”

“Mhm.” 

“….Let’s at least dip our feet in the water, if I don’t I might collapse.”

Arthur paused a moment then nodded, rolling up his pants. He took John’s hand and they made their way towards the water slowly. John watched as Arthur went ahead of him and was the first to dip his feet in, letting out an audible sigh. He bent over and cupped some water in his hands and threw it on his face and head, wiping his mouth afterwards.

John inched towards the edge of the water, thinking on it. The many times they had taken a swim it was usually unwanted. A memory of Kellin and the unwanted swim in the water with the flesh eating fish resurfaced for a moment before it was chased away. John stared at the surface and his own face for a moment, taking one step forward. As soon as the the cold water hit John’s feet, he jumped back.

“Arthur! It’s fucking freezing!”

“Yes, it’s the ocean. You’ll get used to it the longer you stand in it.”

He looked at Arthur as he walked along the shallows, seemingly not minding or noticing the bottom edge of his pants getting wet from the waves. John slowly went back in, both feet meeting where the waves gently crashed on the shore. He shivered for a moment, then hiked up the skirt and waded over to Arthur. His hair whipped around his face from the breeze off the water and found himself in the water up to his mid shin. Arthur kept splashing his face and neck letting out sighs of relief. Then a devilish thought crossed John’s mind and he got closer. creeping silently towards Arthur. Arthur bent back down, cooling himself off and unaware of John now behind him plotting something.

“What do you think John-“

With a harsh shove, Arthur lost his balance and crashed into the icy ocean. He cursed a few times, his shirt now completely soaked and the dark eyeglasses he wore now sinking into the water next to him. A loud snort escaped John’s mouth and lost his composure when Arthur’s now soaked mustache harshly bent downwards matching Arthur’s expression. He couldn’t catch his breath and found himself laughing so hard his stomach began to ache. Tears of laughter rolled down John’s face and his fits of laughter were abruptly stopped when Arthur decided to tug him by his ankle into the water with a loud splash. 

John felt the cold sea water soak into him and shivered, no longer a smile on his face and instead a very visible pout.

“Serves you right for pushing me.”

“ Dick.”

“Asshole.”

John smirked, then hurled a blob of wet sand and muck at Arthur’s face. It hit Arthur head on with a loud splat and was followed by Arthur furiously wiping the gunk from his face. John wheezed and opened his mouth to say something before a wad of seaweed tossed his way silenced him as it landed in his mouth. John coughed and spat it out, cussing and cringing at the texture of wet sand and salt on his tongue. John couldn’t help but smirk and immediately wanted Arthur to pay for that.

John crawled his way to Arthur and jumped on him like a panther, wrestling him in the shallows, sand and water splashing up around them both. The duo were swearing and laughing, their troubles and thoughts of why they even came here vanished. John dunked Arthur into the water for a moment before retaliating with a strong arm and sent John down to join him. John was soaked from head to toe and felt the silk stockings he wore were definitely ruined with the gritty sand, slime, and soaked through. Which went well with the whole dress, now spattered with seaweed. He would’ve cared immensely if it weren’t for the fact Arthur was laughing his head off for the first time in months. He was grinning from ear to ear, peals of laughter shaking his shoulders as John grabbed a handful of weeds and slapped it onto his face, concluding the all out brawl in the waves.

John couldn’t help but smile as well, seeing Arthur giggle as he wringed out his handkerchief from his pants’ pocket brought even more levity to this situation. His makeup was almost certainly ruined and possibly smeared all over his face, but John just found himself relishing in this moment. Wet sand was streaked across Arthur’s face and clothes, his hair tangled with bits of the thrown vegetation. John couldn’t help but feel his chest flutter slightly at the sight. Arthur stood up and offered his hand to John who took it gladly. When John got to his feet he gently plucked the handkerchief from Arthur, wiping away the makeup from his face.

“I didn’t expect that from you, John.”

“Neither did I from you.”

He handed it back to Arthur, brushing off the last strands of seaweed and clumps of sand from his bodice and hair. John’s gaze slid to Arthur’s face, gently checking on the scars under where his eyes used to be. His expression changed remembering everything they’ve gone through in the past month or so.

They were healing well, but still were a fresh pink color almost shiny in the summer sun. He could even see where the stitches were sewn after they managed to get away from that horrible place. John recalled the sobbing and outcries of pain that came from Arthur as he closed the wounds and cleaned the eyelids that were once theirs. Instinctually, John touched his own scar where the ritual had been botched and that eye no longer there as well. 

John couldn’t help but think of the fates from the mythology that leaked into his head from when he was together with Arthur. The three sisters all sharing one eye to see out of, it was a pathetic comparison but in a way felt relevant to their new situation. It meant that they had to depend on one another, not only for sight but also trust more than before somehow. Unlike the fates, there was no need to fight over the one eye anymore.

John went over to where the dark shades sat in the water and picked them up, plucking off a bit of dead weeds as he gently set them back on Arthur’s face. John took off the no longer white silk glove and stuffed them in the bodice. With Arthur in tow, they both did the walk of shame to go pick up their shoes and saunter back to where they set their hats down on the sand. They murmured a soft conversation as they gathered their things,

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to the beach. I forgot how much I enjoyed it,”

Arthur smiled softly, thinking back to the few times he got the chance to enjoy the sunshine with Faroe. Her past giggles as she used to pick up clamshells and piled sand into makeshift castles.

“Faroe and I went in the summer a few times, it was probably when I started to get a big appreciation for the ocean.”

John listened, sliding on his shoes and tying up the yellow headscarf. Arthur’s features softened, seemingly lost in the past for just a moment. John standing by his side and gently brushing his shoulder to remind him of the present.

“I can’t recall if I’ve been to an ocean before, I think this was my first experience.”

Arthur perked up,

“Huh…I mean it makes sense I don’t think there’s much of an ocean in the dreamlands. At least not one like here, and definitely not in the dark world.”

“As far as I can recall, yes.”

Arthur slid on his shoes as well, shaking out his hat and placing it on his head. John put his hat on as well and stood up and took Arthur’s arm.

“…This Eugene…do you think that it’s possible that we are being followed by someone who knows him? Or someone he hired?”

Arthur turned his head to John.

“I’m not sure but I think we got a little too distracted for a time and we might need to make some space between whoever that is.”

John felt a twinge at that statement but understood.

“Yes, maybe it was a bit foolish for us to get sidetracked.”

“No, John, it wasn’t. I think we both needed it.”

Arthur squeezed John’s arm gently when he said that, causing John to relax his shoulders. As much as it was a risk, he could sense that it reinvigorated Arthur to at least keep going. A soft smile creeping back onto John’s face, looking at Arthur’s relaxed expression.

They hobbled their way over the sand to the wooden steps up to the boardwalk, Arthur leaning on John slightly to rest his bad leg. Their own footsteps syncing together on the wooden boards.

“I think we should grab some food before we head back to our hotel room. Is the food cheap here or do you suggest we go somewhere else, John?”

“There are hotdogs…and corn and a few others but that’s all I see.” 

John scanned the food stalls, looking for anything substantial they could grab. The scent of hot oil and pleasant sweetness hit him head on and made John’s mouth water.

“Hm….we can grab something. Just go where the crowds are.”

John nodded and made his way to the closest food booth, eyeing up the cooking sausages and a doughy looking disk frying in a pot of oil. The scent wafted over to John and he sighed, his stomach growling.

“What’s this?”

The food attendant replied curtly with “potato knishes” and John put up two fingers. He held Arthur’s arm and watched as he finished cooking them in the hot oil then wrapped them in an old newspaper. John slid the man a few cents and handed Arthur his knish, feeling the heat from it on his fingertips. John eyed the food for a moment before biting into it.

He hummed in enjoyment and took another bite, glancing at Arthur who polished his knish off quickly. He was now licking off his fingers and crumpled up the greasy newspaper. John snickered and took another bite, starting to walk towards the exit of the park. He turned to Arthur and thought for a moment as they headed to leave.

“Arthur.”

“Yes?”

“…Thank you”

“For what?”

“For bringing us here, we got to enjoy our time together. It’s been… different ever since we’ve been separated physically.”

“Different?”

“I used to always be in your head and always talked to you, even when neither of us wanted that. Now I can go off on my own but I can’t seem to make myself wander far from your side. I worry sometimes that I’m impeding our progress in figuring out this Cult of The Fallen Star physically with my new physical needs.”

“John-” 

Arthur started but John kept going. 

“It’s new for both of us, and I sometimes worry about your health as well after all that has happened. I know you can take care of yourself but you’ve been lost in thought recently. I can't help but wonder if I’ve been neglecting your needs.”

“John.”

Arthur gently squeezed his arm and turned to him, his voice soft.

“You haven't, it's just been a while since I’ve been physically close to someone. The last ones to do so were Parker and Bella… It's left me… feeling strange.”

Their footsteps gently thunked on the old wooden boards beneath them as they walked, the sounds of the crowd faded away. A pregnant pause fell between them, the sounds of the beach fading away. Arthur sighing and thought more before replying to himself,

“I’m…  scared that I’m going to lose you, lose someone yet again. That somehow you being physical makes you prone to some imaginary curse put on me. I know it's dumb but it has left me almost afraid of getting close to you again. That I’m going to turn around one day and you won’t be there.”

John frowned, feeling Arthur’s head rest on his shoulder, a hand now intertwined into his own. John quietly murmured, 

“I don’t think it's dumb; It’s changed the nature of our existence together and it's new for the both of us. That worry that I’ll suddenly vanish seems maybe normal for all of what has happened…For fucks sake Arthur you lost your physical eyes and one of them is now shoved into my head. I think that would leave anyone a bit off for a long time.”

John saw the Luna Park sign ahead, as the sun lowered into the horizon and painted the sky a vivid orange color. Lights flickered on along the boardwalk and the hush of the crowd became more apparent as they continued talking.The sign glittered with lights, casting a warm yellow and orange glow across John and Arthur’s forms. The sound of cars passing by mixed with the ocean and the distant cry of gulls in the distance. They stopped and turned to each other, inches from the exit, John scanning Arthur’s face.

“But we have been together, and I’m not leaving. We can take care of each other and continue this investigation tomorrow. For now, I think we should go home and wash ourselves off. We’re starting to smell a bit like fish.”

Arthur chuckled, cracking a smile,

“Your nose has been sensitive ever since you got that body. One whiff of something off and it scrunches up into a ball.”

John huffed and crossed his arms.

“I’m new to this, you don’t get to be so cruel.”

John was going to offer more of a witty comeback to that comment about his nose but that stopped when Arthur wrapped his arms around John in a warm embrace. Arthur hugged him tight and let out a soft sigh.

“Thank you John…”

“…Thank you too, Arthur.”

They held each other under the sign and the setting sun for a while, the word melting away into the night behind them. It was a lot these past few weeks, and as much as this was a failure for the  investigation, they needed this time to themselves. John made a mental note of coming back sometime, to that giant wheel with seats in it, and he walked into the evening with Arthur.