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“What… is that?” John was sitting across from Noel at the diner. Arthur had gone down the street to talk to Oscar, and John had opted to sit out that conversation. As usual, this led to his leg bouncing furiously under the table and his eyes darting back and forth as if a hidden threat was going to crawl out from a red leather bar stool. The diner was a safe place, somewhere neutral that he’d been getting used to in the few weeks he’d been experiencing full human autonomy. But even considering the seeming kindness of the building, John had yet to be capable of distance from Arthur without his nerves standing on end. Every time the man stepped out of sight, John couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting, clenching his teeth, or, on one painfully embarrassing day, crying. It had been getting better, but only just.
Now though, his nervous energy had been put on pause. He stared at the item Noel had pulled from his briefcase and deposited on the table in front of him.
“It’s for you,” Noel said with a gentle smile.
“That doesn’t answer my question.” The detective across from him let out a sigh. John scowled. Noel leaned forward. He had a habit of talking with his hands, and John was thankful as today he preferred to keep his eyes there instead of on Noel’s. Or more accurately, he preferred to look at the object in front of the other man’s gesticulating. It was a small, stitched together doll. It could easily fit cupped in John’s hands, not that he had any interest in holding it. Its head rolled up slightly, revealing warm brown button eyes and a simple thread smile from under auburn colored yarn that made up the hair. It was dressed smartly in tiny tailored clothes, and while John would hesitate to call it an exact likeness, there was no guessing who it was supposed to represent. John was still staring at the object as Noel continued.
“Look, your problem is that you aren’t used to being away from Arthur.“ Noel leaned back in his seat slightly, the leather creaking as he did. “Or, maybe you are, but in the moments you were away from Arthur in the past it was always life or death. Even now, in a setting like this, you started twitching as soon as he got up from the booth.” Noel gestured to John’s fingers, which had started to drum on the table. John pulled his hand back and held it in his lap, looking down.
“It’s fine. I can deal with this,” He spat. He’d dealt with the King’s meddling, he’d dealt (poorly) with the dark world, he could damn well deal with Arthur being a two minute walk down the street.
“No you can’t.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m serious.“ Noel’s voice was soft, but pleading. “I know it’s hard but, despite what you both probably want, you aren’t going to always be attached now. And for you— I can’t begin to understand how terrifying that would be.” John scoffed.
“You make it sound like I’m some frightened child.”
“I’m really not. Arthur was your world. You may have had his eyes, but he had your voice, your body— being without him physically… I’d compare it to losing an arm, but who knows. I’d hazard a guess that you’re the only person in the world to ever experience that sort of loss.” They sat silently for a moment. John toyed with the cup of coffee in front of him that he didn’t plan on drinking. He was wired enough as it is. They spent a moment without words, allowing the ambient sounds of the cars outside and other people in the diner to fill the air between them. John took a deep breath.
“Why do you even care?” John barely got the question out before Noel scoffed.
“Fucking hell, Doe, why would I care? Seriously?” John felt his face heat up, and Noel seemed to be able to tell since the energy that had appeared as John asked his question dissipated just as quickly. his next words were quieter. “Cause I care about you, John. You’re my friend. One of my best if I do say so myself.” It was John’s turn to scoff but Noel just chuckled and pressed on.
“You can’t crawl back inside him,” Noel said softly. John muttered something under his breath that wasn’t distinctly polite for the setting they were in, but Noel pushed forward, “but you can learn to cope. I’m only trying to help.”
“But if you don’t want it, that’s fine. All of Marie’s and my tender loving handiwork will just go to waste—“
“Just hand it over.” Noel frowned a bit at John’s tone.
“I’m sorry if I pushed too hard, you don’t need to take it—“ he started but John shook his head and reached across the table.
“I’ll take it, but just,” John softened slightly as his hand wrapped around the doll. The texture wasn’t quite soft, but it was comforting in a way he couldn’t immediately name. He let out a huff as he pulled it back and slid it into his bag, ignoring the funny feeling that he got as he secured the doll safely inside. “Just…don’t tell Arthur.” John didn’t miss the skeptical look that flashed across Noel’s face, but it quickly vanished as the man nodded and smiled.
“Not a word, friend.”