singillatim | Part Two: The Detective

"Honestly, at this point I'm probably on something like my ninth or tenth," he comments with grim humour. Easier to make light of the fact than focus on what it actually means.

But his voice drops a little when he continues. "But... still. I'm not upset, no. Not when it meant I got another chance to find out what happened to John and I, to- to solve the mysteries we found ourselves tangled in."

He glances up at Konstantin, but doesn't make an effort to hold his gaze. "I suppose the difference is... we always had something to look forward to. Or at least something to look for, something to keep us from getting lost in the darkness of everything we encountered."

He gives another soft huff, more gentle this time, and his words are measured, intoned. "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep."

Ninth or tenth... It's almost incredible, in all the most horrible ways, that this mild-mannered younger man has been through such.... tragedy. How is he able to smile at all?

(Is it the same way that Konstantin's able to smile, despite the fact he's lost everything? There is nothing left for him back home. He is nothing. He's able to smile only because he wills it to be, all of the conditioning and training making him a powerhouse in the Art of Playing A Part.)

But no... No, it doesn't seem to be that way for Arthur. It's something much more authentic, more... hopeful. ('it meant I got another chance' — 'always had something to look forward to' — 'something to keep us from getting lost in the darkness')

He keeps staring over at him as he recites those words, the well-known Frost poem. Konstantin doesn't... talk about these things, never too much — only Vasiliy knows most of it — but... here and now, sitting beside someone like this... It feels a little safe to, maybe.

"The facility I was kept in before here... They were never going to let me go. I escaped, but it was only temporarily. They found me again. Maybe I already knew they would." His words come quiet and slow. There was no way he could outrun the Soviet military, the scientists.

"They wanted to make this... creature into a weapon." He glances down at himself, eyes drifting to his abdomen, where the thing curls up and rests, safe and warm from the cold around it.

"Use it for war. It could have had devastating effects for humanity. ....So I killed it, and myself. Shot us both." His free hand drifts to his abdomen, fingers brushing across his shirt front.

"Back where I'm from, I'm considered a Hero. It's a title given. I wanted to sacrifice myself, to save the world. I wanted to be something so... good. But if I'm honest with myself? It was also a selfish act. Maybe mostly selfish, in the end. I didn't want to live like this. I wanted to die."

He looks over at Arthur, aware of how vulnerable he's being, aware of the tremour to his voice, uncomfortable and desperate to share with someone all at the same time. "Waking up here, realising I wasn't... dead.... I don't know how to contend with that. The days pass by, but it can't last. I don't want this to last."

Arthur lets him talk, uninterrupted. This is clearly something he's not spoken of much, if it took this far into the discussion to even bring it up, and he wants to let him get the words out.

And when he's done, he stays silent for a few seconds. Looking down at their forgotten fishing lines, chewing on his words, trying to find something that...

There's no making this better. But at least there's feeling seen. Recognising that your pain isn't unique hurts, but by god is it better than being alone.

"John and I have been in... similar circumstances. Trapped by a higher power, monitored at all times, unable to- do much of anything, besides survive. And even then, it was... difficult. When our captors had no vested interest in my survival. He- they just wanted John. I was collateral, at best. An active a-and stubborn obstruction in the way of what they really wanted."

His hands knot, bouncing gently between his knees. "I don't think it's weak. To want not to live like that. I think it's... human, completely and utterly, to fight against being captured like that. Against being reduced to less than a person. And neither is taking it out on the only thing you can meaningfully impact."

He gestures to his throat again, just tapping it through his layers. "Perhaps it is selfish. But it's our life, to do with as we wish."

There's a rough exhale of breath after his own words, so much pent-up anxiety and odd emotion. There's more, so much more to all of it, but he's said more than he usually ever has. It's a lot.

It's also a lot to be... listened to. To sit and share with someone else, someone who can relate in... impossible ways. Someone who accepts him like this. Konstantin looks back over at the other man as he speaks of being trapped, monitored, by something that had no real interest in his survival, but the Other Thing's. He nods, soft and sad, understanding what it is to just be a vessel, to know that it's the only worth you have in that sort of situation.

The next part makes everything in him freeze. He's spent so long feeling like his humanity is something he's having to hold onto, desperate. 'I think it's... human'

Konstantin follows Arthur's fingers to the tap against his throat, and then lowers his eyes again. He feels... Seen, which has always been one of the worst thoughts in the world, the most frightening one, and yet... right now, he's drawn to it like some warm, safe place. He's very tired of pretending, of running, of fighting. His eyes are wet, and he blinks against the feeling.

"Even here, there are days I just... want this to end. It's more manageable here, this place weakens it, but...." His mouth curls in disgust, and shudders. The creature is abhorrent, and he's constantly aware of it, of its presence inside of him. Its wet, malleable body, curled into him, writhing, squirming, demanding. If he let himself lose composure, he might dig his fingernails into his skin and tear and tear and tear, trying to get it out.

"I want it out of me. I'd do anything to get it out."

He hums softly at the desperate, tired admission. "I'll admit I felt the same about John, for- most of our time together. When I finally realised that I... that I do care about him, that I can't lose him, it..." His hands knot again, rolling idly. "I won't deny that our circumstances are different. John's presence in me, i-it's not so... visceral."

He shifts to hold his own left hand again, rubbing the side again. "But I still lost agency. Autonomy. Pieces of my body, that I was never going to get back." Before here goes unsaid, because they both know it and it doesn't count. "But if John wasn't tethered to me... he'd be dead. Worse than. And I can't imagine doing that to him, not again."

The other man's situation is just as horrific, even if in some differing ways — as he says, it's still a loss of agency, autonomy. A loss of self. It's... a strange thing to have in common with somebody. Konstantin sits there in silence for a few moments as he listens, processes, fingers rubbing slowly against the slender pole in his hand.

"It must be strange for you, being here without him. You have a relationship. A friendship."

He can understand why Arthur is able to have empathy for the entity, even after everything it's taken from him. This "John" sounds like something that can be reasoned with, and clearly something capable of learning, adjusting, befriending.

"I believe the only reason my... creature is here with me is because it's like a part of my body now. We can't survive without one another. It will die without me, but if it leaves me for too long, I'll die too. It might as well be one of my organs."

"Then perhaps that's another way to look at the situation," he offers quietly. "My belief in John came with his change of character, when he... grew up, for lack of a better term."

He gestures to Konstantin. "Perhaps if you start trying to think of your creature as yours, rather than- than an intruder, a parasite. I-I'm not saying it's not, by any stretch," he's quick to assure. "But if you're stuck with it, then... well, you can hardly hate your lungs or your kneecaps for existing, even if you suffocate or limp sometimes."

He's quiet for a few long moments. His creature. Everything in him flinches at the concept, though he choose his words thoughtfully, trying to keep too much emotion out of it.

"The thing is.... since this place changes the rules, weakens it... it might be possible to actually kill it, here. The bond it has with me isn't so strong in this place."

He has no access to its memory anymore. For all he knows, that might mean they're not as tethered as they are back in his world.

"I just need to find a way to test that out, but I'm rendered unconscious whenever it leaves my body, so that makes it difficult for me to be involved." He smiles weakly. "But there are people with medical experience in this place, and I think I can trust some of them."

Sorry Arthur, he's still stuck on Worm Removal here.

Honestly, Arthur doesn't blame him. And he'd be lying to himself if he expected a single conversation to change Konstantin's mind on something this life-changing, this threatening to his very existence.

At the very least, he can caution him. Advise him in a way that has at the very least merited the weight the topic deserved.

"Medical experience is one thing," he says, calm and easy. No judgement, or at the very least trying not to sound patronising. "But experience with the things we have is another beast entirely. If the creature can exit your body entirely, a-and yet the harm that's done to it still affects you, then whatever ties it has to you are more than biological."

Konstantin certainly doesn't disagree. There's a reason he hasn't pursued something like this yet, taken... months, almost a year in this place. He knows it's risky, and... he has to be cautious. The last thing he wants to do is cause some irreparable damage to himself. There are people relying on him, here.

There's Vasiliy.

"It's definitely symbiotic in a way that no creatures from Earth seem capable of being," he nods. "But I'm thinking I start small. Someone forces the thing to stay outside of me for longer than an hour, just a little. See what happens. And maybe we can eventually test what happens if it doesn't get any food. If I stop being a good host for it.. maybe it will let me go."

There's an irony here that he's willing to let himself be a lab rat again, but... if there's even a chance the thing could be separated from him here...

"...I have a child, back home. A son." He stares at his hands for a moment. "If I manage to make it out of this place... and if I'm somehow still alive back home... I have to find him. Help him. I can't do that if I have a dangerous monster inside of me."

"...I have a child, back home. A son."

He rests his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together over his mouth. Somehow the news is equal parts completely shocking as it is... well. Of course this complete stranger with a dozen other parallels to him has a fucking child as well.

He just has to breathe through that for a moment, as his chest tightens with heartache.

And then a deeper one, steadying himself to keep talking, and he clears his throat gently so it doesn't crack. "I want to be there. W-when you do it." He sits up again, and the look in his gold-cracked eyes is a challenge. "I'm not any sort of medic, I'll admit that. But it-" with a gesture to Konstantin's stomach. "Regardless of anything else, it clearly trusts me, at least to some extent. And I think you'll need someone there with that ability, someone willing to pull the plug if this goes south sooner than you're expecting. If you can't survive apart, I will make sure you survive together."

His eyes only soften then, sympathetic. "If nothing else, it's the only way you'll get to try again later."

Konstantin looks back up at him, perpetually struck off-guard by things that Arthur Lester says to him. 'I want to be there'

He wants to help him. Him, who's still practically a stranger (even if, after all that's been shared between them now, Konstantin feels some bond to this man, something deep and desperate and yearning). Him, who could be a danger to the other man who's already known such horrors through his life. Arthur doesn't owe him a thing. And yet here he's offering to... make sure he survives, during this (a thought that Konstantin initially kneejerk flinches from, because some deep shameful part of him would still rather die than exist like this, sick and weak and in so much pain. He doesn't have the medicine from the facility here to keep him from feeling the nausea, the ache. Every day he feels it. The thing, wet and coiled inside of him; his body protests its presence, again and again, he fucking hates it—)

...But Arthur's right. Surviving is the only way he can try again later. So Konstantin bows his head for a moment, sighing slow through his nostrils, deeply considering all of this. Eventually, he nods.

"I don't suppose there's any sense trying to convince you that the last thing you of all people need is to get closer to my trouble." This particular man has every right to turn away from Konstantin. But he doesn't. He won't. He's kind, and brave.

"...Thank you." A softer exhale, a shudder of breath. "It can form.. trust. It's happened before. It understands when people help it, and.... I do think it might be less likely to harm someone like that." So it's... a good thing, ultimately, if Arthur does continue to befriend his disgusting little passenger. Maybe it won't hurt him. Maybe it might even protect him if it's ever necessary, the way it protected Tatiana.

"But I want you to do what you have to do. If it ever approaches you again in the meantime... if you feel that it's becoming a threat... I don't want you to get hurt for me."

Edited 2024-11-11 03:14 (UTC)

It's a rush of relief, when Konstantin relents, lets him help, and he finally smiles, a more natural and genuine one as his tension settles a little.

"Don't worry. You're actually not the first possessed person we-" ah, the automatic 'we' makes his heart hurt. "Th-that I've helped, in- in this way. Perhaps not quite so literally, but... we find we have a sense of duty, John and I, in- in being like this. Being aware of the wider world, the unnatural and surreal. To help those who are in over their heads when they discover it, to try and prevent any more loss or pain that we can manage."

It wasn't a perfect science - it wasn't even that, it was just two assholes trying to be better than the world that dragged them through the mud and helping other people escape it. But Marie and Hattie were better, and Oscar was...

...he was better without them, at least.

"And I'm certainly not afraid of pain, so." He gestures to his face with a wry grin. "You'll have to do worse than that to scare me off."

Fortunately, this place has weakened the creature enough that it doesn't seem nearly as deadly as he knows it's capable of being, but... it can still do damage. ....And it can kill someone here, if the conditions are right. He knows that now. Someone's dead because of the thing, an Interloper who got caught in the crosshairs. (Gord, his name was Gord. Konstantin barely knew him.)

"It sounds like you've had more than enough pain for a lifetime," he says with something that's not quite a smile, more a wince. "This little fucker better not cause you any more." He glances downwards, knowing the thing is capable of perceiving what's going on even when it's inside of him, assuming it isn't asleep. It can hear people's voices, feel the vibrations of them. Surely it recognises Arthur's. He hopes that the more he's around him, the more the thing might associate the younger man with friend-not-food.

"....And if there's ever anything I can do for you, please— Please tell me."

That gets a soft chuckle despite the entire mess of their circumstances.

"Look, you don't need to worry about me, really. All of my problems, they're-" he flaps a hand dismissively. "They're not here. So I can focus on what's actually in front of us."

He can only hope that when - if - he gets back, that John and Yorick have figured something out, that he's not just dead. But he can't worry about that now; all it serves is sending him into a panic. Having other people to worry about here - Konstantin, Charles- it helps keep him sane.

"I suppose I should meet Vasya at some point, though, just so he doesn't have to worry about me knowing the truth."

Konstantin lifts a brow at that, and offers a huff and a smile. "This place apparently has its fair share of supernatural entities trying to fuck with us. Your problems from before might have just been traded out for a new slew of them. So I'm going to have to keep an eye out for you, too."

Sorry Arthur, he's going to worry about you just as much as you've been worrying about him and his situation. Especially considering this poor guy's track record for getting hurt, maimed, killed...

Something in his eyes softens at mention of Vasiliy, shifting his liquid-dark eyes to a warmer brown. It's a reaction that Konstantin can't stop from happening at this point, something fond.

"I'll introduce you. You should come over for dinner sometime. We have meat."

Vasiliy's also not... normal, there's something strange and wrong about him, too. Something Konstantin doesn't really know how to fully define. He has to wonder if Arthur might've run across anything like that in all of his journeying with the supernatural. He won't betray Vasya's secrets, but it's something to think about bringing up to his housemate. Arthur is a good ally to have.

Part Two: The Detective

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