Chapter Text
John was in a dark room illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows. He tells Arthur as much.
"There's a writing desk in the corner, too, with papers and writing utensils strew about on it" Arthur took a step towards it. "Wait! Arthur, there's a coffee table right in front of you, with a sofa to its right. Step to the left to avoid it." Arthur followed his directions quietly, arriving at the desk and holding up some of the papers.
"What does it say?" He whispered, making as little sound as possible. John skimmed through the text.
"Hmm, these are some purchase contracts, letters of confirmation, nothing useful..." He trailed off, looking around the rest of the desk, hoping for the smallest clue to show up. They needed one desperately. This was where the vanguard told them Anna was at, but the place was as good as abandoned. The walls were scratched, the paper faded and falling off in places, the wooden floor rotten and mouldy. They hadn't found any trace of her, dead or alive.
"Open the drawers. There's two right under the writing space."
Arthur slid them open, revealing a multitude of pens and-
#
He was in a dark room illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows. He's in front of a desk, and he cannot move . No. That's not right. He can move his left arm, and some of his toes. He flexed his hand. The dull pain in his blackened pinky sharpened when it pressed up against his palm. He winces.
"John?" a voice that is not his cuts through the silence. His right hand moves to rest on top of the desk in front of him. He cannot control it. It is not his hand.
"Wh- Where am I?" his voice breaks pathetically. Why is he acting like this? He is better than this mortal speaking to him, he doesn't have any reason to feel scared.
He doesn't remember feeling scared before.
"John, please." The human sounds close to tears. He should be. He should be in awe at his presence. "Please, John, stay with me."
John? He doesn't recognize the name.
"Who is 'John'?"
A dry sob escapes the human. "Please, just hold on a little longer, until we find Anna. We're here for her. Don't you remember?" he says in a hushed, hurried voice. "The vanguard-"
His vision blurs. "Anna.. Stanczyk" He feels weak. His mind is stretching, longing to touch something he did not know was there. A knowledge. "A- Arthur?" He asks, slowly.
"John! Yes, please, John!" Arthur's voice is filled with relief. John takes a look around. The desk drawer is filled with pens and bones.
"I- I'm back, Arthur, I-" he pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I faded, for a second there."
"Yes, I was wor-"
"I'm fine now, Arthur," John cuts him off, "But this drawer, Arthur, it's filled with bones."
"Bones?"
"Yes, they're white and dry. They look clean, but not taken care of. They are frail as time rotted away at them."
"What about the other drawer?" Arthur says as he opens up the left one. John averts his eyes as the image of a book burns them.
"It's- It's a leather-bound book. It has a symbol on the front, it- " he breaks off. "Arthur, cover our eyes, it burns."
"It burns?" he asks, curiously, though he raises his hand to shield their eyes.
"Yes, I believe it's meant to ward off monsters and other... powerful beings."
"You mean gods."
"Yes, Arthur, in my complete form as the King, I don't think I would have been able to look upon this symbol without seriously damaging myself, or at least being forced to retreat back into the Dreamlands. However, since I am no longer him, it doesn't have an effect as powerful as that."
"But this symbol, it's only on the cover, correct?"
"I wouldn't know, Arthur."
"Alright then. We can close our eyes and then get past the cover. We should be fine then."
"Arthur, do we even want to read this book?" John knows they need to, that this is an important clue, the only they've found in a while, but the symbol was making him weary of its contents. This book was under strong protections. It wasn't just the symbol, John could feel the underlying spells pricking at him from all directions, trying to keep him away.
"Yes, we do. Don't we? It's the only thing we've found that opens up new directions, new leads to follow! It's got a symbol that repells you, John. Whatever is inside must be important." John could not argue with his logic. As much as he wanted to keep his distance from this book, it most probably held information they could not risk to pass up.
"Okay." With a small breath, Arthur closed his eyes. John was left in darkness. He could feel Arthur reaching out for the book. He patted his way over to his hand in order to help him flip the cover. Arthur opened his eyes slowly. John expected the burning feeling again, but luckily Arthur's idea worked. He could still feel the stabs of the other spells trying to keep him at bay, but he would not let them win. What this book may contain was neccessary to know. He gritted his metaphorical teeth and started reading.
"I think this is the table of contents, Arthur. It-" he paused as his eyes scanned the rest of the page. " Arthur , I think this is some sort of research journal. It's all hand-written, with many sections like 'Elder Gods', 'portals', 'protection spells', 'R'lyehian'." He flipped through some pages. " Jesus , Arthur, I don't know who wrote this, but it's so detailed, with experiments and sources and important places- I- this is helpful! This gives us so many things to follow up on! Arthur, this is brilliant!" Arthur laughed in relief and delight. John felt their body relax. He hadn't even noticed when they had tensed up.
"This is good, John!" his tone had an eager note in it "Please, read some out for me"
He looked at the first page and started to speak when a heavy object collided with Arthur's head. John's vision blurred before it went dark. He yelled as Arthur slumped to the floor and over his hand. He was pinned down.
"Who are you?" mused a voice from above. She put the object down with a metallic clank. She grabbed a hold of Arthur's shoulders and turned him around. John finally jerked his arm free with a triumphant "Aha!" and started scratching at the stranger. She yelled in pain and hit the hand with the object. John stilled for a moment, only to start swiping as soon as he could move again, when he felt rope wrapping around his hand. He tried to get it off, but she tied it firmly to something wooden. John couldn't tell what it was, merely that he was incapacitated once more.
#
He couldn’t see. His arm felt tied down. What was going on? He heard movement around him, a person dragging a chair across the room.
“Let me go.” he growled. The person in the room didn’t react.
“What is happening?“ No answer.
“TELL ME!” at this, another person stirred. How many people were there? He didn’t know. His eyes were still closed.
“J-John?” the second person mumbled. He didn’t know how to answer that. Who was John?
His eyes opened, revealing he was tired to a chair in the middle of a dark room illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows. His right arm moved against his will. So he was possessing a human. Curious. It tugged against the bindings keeping it tied down.
The human gasped. “John! What happened?“
This man expected him to know. He didn’t. “Don't worry, everything is fine.” His voice was high and syrupy, a tone he used to bend minds to his will. He could remember the feeling of having manipulated many through it, telling them sweet lies that made them cooperative. Soft.
"What? John, I blacked out, and now we're tied down, tell me what happened!" he was angry. How dare a human adress a being like him in that tone?!
He kept his calm as he answered him. "I'm afraid I don't know who this 'John' is, friend, but I promise you, we will be alright. We seem to be tied down, but it's no need to worry, we will get out of this."
There was an odd silence before the human spoke again. His voice was gentle, almost caring. "John? Are you alright? Are you- are you fading again?" What did a human know about him?
“Who are you talking to?” a woman approached them from behind. She was holding a large iron.
“T-talking to?” The human repeated, feigning innocence.
"Yes, you were talking to someone. John. Who is he?" she was eyeing them suspiciously as she drew a chair for herself closer.
"I'm afraid you misheard, miss."
"I won't have any reason to keep you around if you're lying to me."
"Are you implying you'll kill me? Because then I don't see a reason to dance around the words." the man's tone turned sharp, dangerous.
"Maybe. Depends. First, I'll get rid of the thing possesing you. Can't risk killing you first and setting it loose."
"Wait, you can- ?" the man trailed off, surprised. "You can separate us?"
The woman shrugged. "I can definitely rid you of him."
He panicked. Get rid of him? She's able to banish him back to where he came from, back to the Dark World? He could not allow that to happen. His voice turned to a snarl as he addressed the human.
"I swear to god I will rip you apart limb from limb if you accept her offer. She is dangerous, she does not care about you! She's only trying to make killing you easier for her. Do not trust her."
The man ignored him completely.
"Will it hurt him?"
"I can make it hurt." She looked him straight in the eyes. She could sense him, he was sure of it. She grinned at them.
"No. I can't."
Yesss , the fool had taken his words to heart. He was pleased. No doubt he would soon control his mind entirely.
"You can't or won't?" The woman was frowning.
"I won't. I won't hurt him. Not again."
He felt like he was missing a piece of what was going on. 'Not again?' The human was... protecting him? When had this human interacted with him before? When had this human hurt him? He couldn't remember. This was not good. This was not right . He was supposed to remember. He was supposed to- to know .
She laughed a short, barking sound. "What's your name?"
"Arthur Lester."
Arthur Lester? He recognized the name. He had heard of him. He knew him. His mind jerked in the wrong direction, stretching and breaking to fill with memories that were gone just a few seconds ago. He felt dizzy, the colours in front of his eyes blending into one-another. His head split in two, and he gripped the chair hard.
"Arthur?" his voice was tiny.
"John! Yes, John, it's me, please." Arthur's voice was dripping with relief, his eyes watering slightly at the corners.
John's mind was foggy. "Yes, Arthur. I- There's a woman in front of us! She is wearing clothes that look loose, comfortable. Maybe some pyjamas? She is holding a heavy-looking iron. I think this is what she knocked you out with. She is eyeing us. She is suspicious, but also concerned. She probably thinks I'm influencing you in some way."
"Yes, I would assume she does. Not that you don't influence me, John." he let out a soft laugh, relaxing into the chair.
"Arthur, look, I don't know what this entity promised you, but I'm telling you, you're better off without it. I have seen people get corrupted by the power of otherworldly entities, and it's not nice. It's never nice. They all think they can get away with it, they can use it without consequence, but everything has a cost."
Arthur laughs again. "Funny, that's exactly what he keeps telling me, too."
"John?"
"Doe. John Doe."
John drew a small breath at Arthur's insistence on his full name. "Arthur, look-"
He cut him off. "Are you Anna Stanczyk? We've been trying to find her. See, we're looking for answers. Initially we sought out Amanda Cummings, but she died before we could meet her. However she wrote a letter to this 'Anna Stanczyk', a good friend of hers that seems to have experienced similar things. We were looking for her in hopes she might know how to separate us and give John his own body."
"You- you want to let the thing in your head free?" She was incredulous "Do you even know what's in there? What it is ? It is a monster, Arthur, a demon. It is not of this world, and it does not wish anything but pain to us mortals. It thinks we are beneath it, and it is manipulating you, Arthur."
"He's not. Look, Anna, I know this is hard to believe, and I would find it hard to believe myself if I didn't know him as I do. But I've seen him change, I've seen him do things no other entity of his kind would. He's different , Anna. He's not that anymore, he's- well, he's human."
" Human?! Are you even listening to yourself? Arthur, he's deeper in your mind than I thought."
" No ! You're not listening !" his voice turned desperate. " He's sacrificed himself for me, over and over again! He's subjected himself to thousands of years of suffering, just so that I could escape! He's- he's pulled me back from the brink, he's wept for creatures he holds dear. He cares , now. He's helped me defeat things that were truly evil. He is not."
"Oh, Arthur " John felt his eyes water. He tried to keep his tears in, but instead his metaphorical throat let out a small sob.
Anna raised her eyebrows. "Are you crying ?"
"No. He is. He controls my eyes, and he can cry through them too."
She seemed to be at a loss for words. "Why?" she asked.
"Because I don't think he believed I could trust and care about him anymore. It's okay, John." he smiled and tried to move his hand, but the bindings kept him down.
"Ar-Arthur." John's tears would not stop.
"It's okay, John, everything is okay." Arthur blinked away a couple of the tears. "Anna, would you mind, uh, helping me wipe my face? My- my hand is tied up pretty well."
Anna stood up and brought a tissue over to them. She leaned over, swiping at Arthur's face.
"Is there any way to give him his own body? Please."
"Maybe. I haven't looked into rituals that leave both souls intact. It's usually about killing the thing inside and letting the host free."
"Yes, well, he's died enough times for the both of us. I'd like to avoid it as much as possible."
"Me as well." John's tears stopped as he regained his composure.
"Well I still don't trust it. How do you know it actually died?"
"Because he didn't fucking know what was happening the first time and he lied about it the second time!"
"So it's lied to you before. What makes you think it's not lying now?"
"Because he has no reason to. He couldn't gain anything from me, nor does he have any powers besides controlling my eyes and arm. He is as much a prisoner as I am his host."
"Well, I can also project out of you. We haven't tried it after infiltrating the Order, but I think I am still capable of doing it."
"Yes, you're right. John says he can also project outside of me, although we haven't really tried it again after the first time."
Anna froze. "Wait it can- it can project ?"
"Yes, we think so."
"Could it do it now?" She dropped the tissue on the coffee table and made her way to the desk.
"She's picked up her notebook, Arthur, and flipped through a couple of pages. She's watching us expectantly."
"No, please, don't hurt him. I swear he isn't capable of doing anything besides that. He has no powers, he can't hurt you or me, or anyone really."
"Arthur, I believe the entity inside you might be more powerful than you think, but I have to confirm something first." She paused, her voice turning firm. "But I have this open as insurance. If it tires to do anything, I will banish it from our world and send it back where it came from."
"Alright. John, do you think you could do it?"
"Okay." John took a deep breath. He didn't need it, but it grounded him. He reached out to the dark corner of himself, to the underlying thrum of power that beckoned him to free himself. To take over. To control. It pulsed with secret promises of what he could be, of how he could grow to be as he once was. But John didn't want that anymore. They were empty desires he usually kept away from.
He kept his distance even now, barely touching the darkness, the spot that would allow him to reach out to the outside world. The darkness reached back. Tentatively at first, before violently grabbing at John. Wrapping around him. Enveloping him. It was all around, blocking his way, drowning him. John gasped for air, fighting against it. He pushed over the waves, flailing uselessly as black tendrils pulled him back under. He kicked and clawed, but the tendrils held tighter, pulling him deeper and deeper. John opened his mouth in a desperate attempt for the smallest bit of air and his lungs filled with thick water, that was not water at all. It was blood, the blood of the thousands he'd killed, the thousands he'd made suffer. His senses were filled with with the smell of iron, his vision going red with forgotten memories of what had been. The tendrils wanted him to go back there. Become Him again. Give in. He would not. He was pulled deeper and deeper, his lungs stinging, his mind cracking. He was finally released from his torment by unconsciousness.
#
He was in a dark room illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows. He was tied to a chair, and before him was a woman. She was looking at him expectantly, if slightly annoyed. She was holding a book that stabbed at his senses.
"John? Everything alright?" a man said out of nowhere. He seemed to be under him? "John, please answer, you've been quiet for a while now and I'm getting worried."
He couldn't feel the body he saw was tied to the chair. So he was posessing this human. Alright, he could work with this. "Yes, all is well." His voice was melodic, a tone he reserved for making people fell safe. Making them malleable as he shaped them into whatever he wanted.
"Cut the crap, John, tell me what's going on!"
"There's no need to get heated, friend."
"Why aren't you- ?" the man paused, clearly afraid. He could feel his heart racing, hear his breath quickening. "John, please, do you remember?"
"What happened?" the woman raised her book slightly, looking at them wearily.
The man ignored her. "John, please, it's me, don't you remember? It's Arthur. Please." his voice broke.
His mind snapped, a trickle of information pouring through. He knew this man! "Arthur?" He repeated. "Arthur. Where are we? What is happening?"
"Yes, John! We're in Anna's house. We found her, John! She's able to separate us! "
"Who? Arthur what are you talking about." His head was throbbing.
"Arthur, what happened ?" the woman asked again. John didn't recognize her.
Arthur ignored her again. "John, you faded again. Anna, she- she is the person we've been seeking for so long, the one we asked the vanguard about."
John's mind tore and all his months and years of experiences poured back, drowning him all over again. When had he drowned before? He couldn't remember. A strangled body passed before his eyes, Arthur kneeling on a bloodied carpet. He remembered telling him he wouldn't let him drown. He also remembered being pulled down in a sea of blood he spilled. He remembered Arthur telling him about Faroe.
"Faroe? John?" Arthur's question broke John out of his haze, realizing he'd said her name out loud.
"Arthur, will you fucking explain what's going on?" Anna gripped her notebook tighter.
"John is- he's fading, Anna. He keeps losing memories, forgetting people, getting disoriented. It's getting worse and more frequent with time. He's having a harder time remembering, and I can't lose him. Not to this. Not after everything. We- we hope separating us will stop his degradation, but of course we need your help with that."
Anna sighed. "Alright. Fine. I'll help you. But you have to tell me everything. I can't risk missing something."
Arthur sighed with relief. "Thank you. Thank you so much. John?"
"Yes, Arthur. I'm back. I'm fine now." John gritted his metaphorical teeth against the throbbing of his limb, his eyes, his being. Keeping himself together was pain, but he would do it. For Arthur. He would not be the cause for more of his grief.
"Good. So, Anna, John became bound to me after I opened this book... "