Arthur squeezes Sheehan's hand like a lifeline, and leads him along the street at an easy pace.
"I can't fully blame him, in a sense. There was... a widow, on the island. She'd been drawn there by her husband's death, he'd been buried there and she stayed with him, building a-a house for herself, to live, but she got... tricked. Involved in a cult, by the lighthouse keeper there. I don't know if she was still... human when we encountered her, but she..." He sighs, glancing away. "Even then, even before John knew he was the King, he still had empathy. He... he wanted to believe that creatures like the hag, a-and the widow, could be redeemed, that they had another chance. Hearing him say that so earnestly was part of why we spared the wraith."
His hand shifts like he's going to pull away, tucking his other into his pocket against the cold. "I killed the widow. And John was furious with me- it was the first time we really got into an argument. He refused to talk to me as I made our way back out of the lighthouse basement, as we got- arrested."
He keeps close to him. "I remember that was - one of the first things you told me. That story, though without the context of John, too. You felt it hard then, too. Just as you do now."
Sheehan wraps his arm around him instead, letting him pull his hand away if he wants to stay warm, but refusing to let him wander too far, either physically or in his mind.
He gives a soft hum, almost a sigh, as he leans gratefully into Sheehan's side.
"I suppose so. A lot of what we went through, I... I didn't really have the time, to think about it all that much. Too busy working out how to avoid the next thing trying to kill us."
"That's more common than you might think," he assures him gently, turning to press a kiss to his temple. "If you keep moving, you won't have to think. If you are only thinking about survival from day to day, then you don't have to worry about your own thoughts and the implications of them."
"It was my parents." And he powers on so he doesn't have to think- "A-and it's always- it's frustrating, to tell people, th-they always assume they know me, or- or worse, they just give me this look--"
It was just... pity was always the worst one. Having to try and soothe everyone else's fucking emotions about it.
He sighs, a little more crisply, and lets his head rest on Sheehan's shoulder for a moment.
"I am... I have come to terms with their deaths, truly. I-I still can't... I'm not sure I'll ever understand why they killed themselves." He rests his hand on Sheehan's, tangling their fingers. "But I was... I had someone to help me through it, genuinely. That was why I was introduced to poetry to begin with."
He has to just. Breathe it in for a second. Sheehan's cologne, the crisp air, the lead weight in his chest exposed and overwrought - and perhaps, for now, a little bit lighter.
Finally he tightens his grip, giving Sheehan a brief squeeze before he releases, dropping a kiss on his cheek before he stands properly again. A little red in the eyes, perhaps, but... composed, with an easy, genuine smile.
"Alright. Right, ah- well. Miskatonic university!" he says with a soft laugh. "Arkham might be small, but the university's at least on par with Harvard - i-it’s mostly medical students, if I recall correctly."
Sheehan doesn't let go until Arthur does, gently brushing his nose against his temple, placing a kiss on his forehead. And when he does part, it's slowly, holding him close until he's sure that he wants to let go.
"Medical students," he remarks lightly, though it sends him thinking. With his credentials, he might be able to do something there. "Well, isn't that fortunate."
"You could be ahead of the times, doctor," he teases readily, "Bring some of your expertise to the table, change the medical landscape."
They turn a corner, and there's a few rather regal looking buildings in the near distance, the typical sort of Ivy graduate expectations, and the patches of clear sky make them seem less squat and intimidating on the land. "Or at least, a far more consistent career when people might not trust modern psychology just yet."
He laughs at the kiss, and returns it enthusiastically.
"Mmn. Perhaps I should get back in the habit of keeping it on me," he muses, lifting a hand to fiddle with Sheehan's collar - mostly as an excuse to fiddle with the curls at his nape. "Speak softly and carry a big stick, and all that."
"A very big stick," he says, very innocently, very sweetly, goosebumps appearing at his touch. "I think the most difficult part for me isn't the monsters or the horrors. It will be the pretending."
There's an unpleasant twinge at the reminder, at what a luxury their freedom of visibility is on the Barge, and he pushes it back with another soft kiss.
"We won't have to around Parker," he murmurs. Everyone else he cared about already knew, and he was- he was glad that Faroe would get to grow up and know that love came in all forms, that she'd never have to doubt that in her life. "But perhaps we can invest in some decent curtains regardless."
Arthur can't help a short laugh, leaning into Sheehan for a moment.
"Christ, I don't know. I can't even really imagine it, actually having our own place - we'll probably need a whole damn house," he marvels, "not just an apartment. Between Faroe and Nathaniel, a-and John - Christ knows Parker's going to be over enough with our investigations that we'll probably need an office for both of our jobs-"
It's easy to go on, wondering aloud about the logistics of it.
"No secret passages in the fucking basements," he insists with a laugh. "A-and a new car as well, I think- I'm sure we could find somewhere in the city with a yard, maybe even something with its own boiler."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-09-12 01:10 am (UTC)"I can't fully blame him, in a sense. There was... a widow, on the island. She'd been drawn there by her husband's death, he'd been buried there and she stayed with him, building a-a house for herself, to live, but she got... tricked. Involved in a cult, by the lighthouse keeper there. I don't know if she was still... human when we encountered her, but she..." He sighs, glancing away. "Even then, even before John knew he was the King, he still had empathy. He... he wanted to believe that creatures like the hag, a-and the widow, could be redeemed, that they had another chance. Hearing him say that so earnestly was part of why we spared the wraith."
His hand shifts like he's going to pull away, tucking his other into his pocket against the cold. "I killed the widow. And John was furious with me- it was the first time we really got into an argument. He refused to talk to me as I made our way back out of the lighthouse basement, as we got- arrested."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 01:16 am (UTC)Sheehan wraps his arm around him instead, letting him pull his hand away if he wants to stay warm, but refusing to let him wander too far, either physically or in his mind.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 01:30 am (UTC)"I suppose so. A lot of what we went through, I... I didn't really have the time, to think about it all that much. Too busy working out how to avoid the next thing trying to kill us."
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Date: 2024-09-12 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 01:56 am (UTC)Faroe.
He clears his throat, quietly. "I-I-I told you, a while ago, that- when I was young, there was a loss in my family."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 10:49 am (UTC)"I remember." His voice is soft as he holds Arthur against him.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 11:09 am (UTC)"It was my parents." And he powers on so he doesn't have to think- "A-and it's always- it's frustrating, to tell people, th-they always assume they know me, or- or worse, they just give me this look--"
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Date: 2024-09-12 11:11 am (UTC)He lets him go on, lets him talk, and his arm around him tightens a fraction.
"Pity?" he wonders.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 11:33 am (UTC)It was just... pity was always the worst one. Having to try and soothe everyone else's fucking emotions about it.
He sighs, a little more crisply, and lets his head rest on Sheehan's shoulder for a moment.
"I am... I have come to terms with their deaths, truly. I-I still can't... I'm not sure I'll ever understand why they killed themselves." He rests his hand on Sheehan's, tangling their fingers. "But I was... I had someone to help me through it, genuinely. That was why I was introduced to poetry to begin with."
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Date: 2024-09-12 12:11 pm (UTC)He stops, wrapping his other arm around him. "I love you."
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Date: 2024-09-12 12:29 pm (UTC)Still, he wraps his arms around Sheehan as well, burying his face in the crook of his shoulder. "I love you, Les."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 12:47 pm (UTC)He has to just. Breathe it in for a second. Sheehan's cologne, the crisp air, the lead weight in his chest exposed and overwrought - and perhaps, for now, a little bit lighter.
Finally he tightens his grip, giving Sheehan a brief squeeze before he releases, dropping a kiss on his cheek before he stands properly again. A little red in the eyes, perhaps, but... composed, with an easy, genuine smile.
"Alright. Right, ah- well. Miskatonic university!" he says with a soft laugh. "Arkham might be small, but the university's at least on par with Harvard - i-it’s mostly medical students, if I recall correctly."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-12 05:42 pm (UTC)"Medical students," he remarks lightly, though it sends him thinking. With his credentials, he might be able to do something there. "Well, isn't that fortunate."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-16 04:30 am (UTC)They turn a corner, and there's a few rather regal looking buildings in the near distance, the typical sort of Ivy graduate expectations, and the patches of clear sky make them seem less squat and intimidating on the land. "Or at least, a far more consistent career when people might not trust modern psychology just yet."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-16 11:42 am (UTC)"I plan on revolutionizing the field, Arthur Lester," he teases. "And there is no horrors in your world that can stop me."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-16 12:30 pm (UTC)"And if anything tries to get within a hundred yards of you, John and I will be on its case faster than a bat out of hell."
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Date: 2024-09-16 12:32 pm (UTC)"Mm, will you carry that sword again?" he laughs.
Imagining a life here, seeing it now, it doesn't seem so impossible anymore. Joy bubbles from him in waves so deep he wants to drown in them.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-16 12:46 pm (UTC)"Mmn. Perhaps I should get back in the habit of keeping it on me," he muses, lifting a hand to fiddle with Sheehan's collar - mostly as an excuse to fiddle with the curls at his nape. "Speak softly and carry a big stick, and all that."
no subject
Date: 2024-09-16 04:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-17 11:49 pm (UTC)"We won't have to around Parker," he murmurs. Everyone else he cared about already knew, and he was- he was glad that Faroe would get to grow up and know that love came in all forms, that she'd never have to doubt that in her life. "But perhaps we can invest in some decent curtains regardless."
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Date: 2024-09-18 01:34 am (UTC)He turns and gestures out towards the city.
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Date: 2024-09-18 04:49 am (UTC)"Christ, I don't know. I can't even really imagine it, actually having our own place - we'll probably need a whole damn house," he marvels, "not just an apartment. Between Faroe and Nathaniel, a-and John - Christ knows Parker's going to be over enough with our investigations that we'll probably need an office for both of our jobs-"
It's easy to go on, wondering aloud about the logistics of it.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-18 10:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-18 12:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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