Chapter Text
"When you appear in the dark world. You Arthur will be as you appear now. And you John, well, you will be there as you were before; In the body of Hastur.” The Manager shakes his hand out dramatically, cinders from his lit cigarette flaking towards the base of his desk. The embers sparked and died on the tips of the red shag carpet.
“No…” John’s eyes widened and he clenched his fist . This couldn't be happening. After everything he went though there… The Manager dared to send him back alone. He... Before he could speak more, Arthur stole the words out of his mouth.
"Wait, wait…" Arthur took an instinctive step back. "we won't be together?" His shoulders tightened lifting the lighter close to his chest, the cold metal seeping through the cloth of the shirt. John could feel Arthurs anxiety pulsing through his brain.
The Manager took a drag of his cigarette "No, I'm afraid I can’t really keep you together anymore. I mean, I can, but you need to be separated if you ever want to return. Which is far more convenient to do now than later.” He chuckles. “And I have little say in where you two are. So, I'm afraid you will have to find each other yourselves. “ The Manager spoke with a sincerity that felt foreign to the two of them. Both John and Arthur had grown used to the taunting, falsity of Kayne. A mad man who found joy in the torment of others. But The Manager… was different. Still a Nyarlathotep but he had something Kayne did not. Neither could know how much this Nyarlathotep caused pain, but he seemed... kinder, more thoughtful, patient even. John couldn't place his finger on what it was but whatever it was reminded him of something he saw within Arthur.
"How! How do we find each other! What’s the chance we will even be even close together- a-and you can't exactly navigate through the dark world? There's no way we could find each other! I can’t-" John's voice began to break. He could feel Arthur's heart beat accelerate in tandem with his own rapid thought. This day had been wretched enough. He saw his friend die, horribly and violently and now, he wouldn't even be blessed enough to be with him in death. He dug his fingernails into his skin, threatening to draw blood and leave a mark. The pain did not calm him.
"Again, that's not something I can help with, I'm afraid." The Manager laughed again but the humour was lacking.
John looked at The Manager, hoping for something that could indicate he was lying or keeping something hidden. He needed him to turn around and share the information or give the item that would lead him directly to Arthur or prevent him from losing himself in the meantime. A compass, a map a second fucking lighter. Anything and everything that wouldn’t leave him fighting against the world around him. The Manager didn’t look back, preferring to solemnly stare at his smoke.
John listened as Arthur realised the same thing. "Wait, if we are separated. And I have the lighter..." John watched as Arthur ran his thumb over the engraving. ‘This too shall pass’. In the light of the situation, those words felt more like a mockery than a comfort.
"Again, I don't know. The dark world works in ways that frankly, I don't think anybody truly understands." He took another drag, mindlessly allowing the smoke to sting his eyes. He seemed unbothered by it.
"Please, you can't send me back there, not without something to hold back the worst part of me! Please, anything you can do.." John felt tears brimming in his eyes. He instinctively grasped onto Arthur's already clenched fist, pulling them closer to his chest. Engravings from his nails now stuck onto his… Arthurs, skin.
"Well,” The Manager looked into the distance, a small smile crossing his lips for only a second. “You won't be alone, I'm pretty sure someone's waiting for you both, although I don't know who they will find first…"
"Wait what? Who?" John and Arthur exclaimed together. John… was lost. His mind blanked on who could possibly be waiting for them. While they had friends who died none of them would be particularly helpful in traversing the terrain of the darkworld. The Manager just gestured their question away.
"I've held you long enough! Don’t want anyone getting suspicious!” John and Arthur began to protest only to be shut down by two fingers held to the air.
“Please Manager, if someone is waiting for us-” The Manager shushed him. Wiggling his fingers gently, the still lit cigarette dropped a few more ashes as it loosely swung back and forth.
“There is a reason I can’t tell you, Johnny. Just trust that someone's there, and they want to help.” He flicked the cigarette back to his lips for another drag. Smiling through, what should be yellowed teeth.
“And boys,” he sang. The two quieted, breaths held. John looked to him desperately, one last attempt to get that answer. “Don’t forget what's most important. Defeating Kayne." He finally squished the light of his cigarette into his ashtray, the ember being snuffed in the cold metal.
He made a swooping gesture, opening a cold portal behind the both of them. The cold of the wind beckoning them to the unknown. Arthur nodded at The Manager and John sighed. Both of them falling into death itself.