lestercraft | TLV: IC Inbox

John doesn't look away. He meets Arthur's eyes, which always makes him just a little bit happy all by itself.

"I reminded him that he's a fucking warden. And that his job is to help inmates. All inmates." He sips on his juice. "That he doesn't get to decide who's worthy of help here."

Well that only sounds like half the story, but he can also recognise it's probably something John doesn't want to breach Lark's privacy about.

"That doesn't mean he's not going to be a piece of shit to the ones he does decide aren't worthy," he comments flatly.

He's going to be putting them into a room together. He wants to give Arthur a fair shot to say what he needs to say and hear what he needs to hear, but he's not putting blood in the air. Lark had agreed to talk to him. That earns him that much.

"It doesn't." He doesn't think his talk with Lark meant that much to him, or he won't assume so. "But he agreed to pull his head far enough out of his ass to do this. So maybe he can learn to be better too."

He finishes off his coffee while he considers it. He doesn't trust Lark as far as he can throw him, and doesn't expect him to do anything less than turn it into another masturbatory farce of a discussion about how inferior Arthur is because he got fucking demoted.

But John wouldn't be bringing it up, let alone trying to push for it, if he hadn't gone out of his way to try and make sure there would be a tangible chance. Even if Lark proved that wrong, he doesn't want to discourage John from trying by rejecting that outright.

"...the instant his head tries to make a return to its rectal holiday home, I'm fucking leaving," he grumbles, thumping his cup down to punctuate it.

"And I'll cover your exit," he says firmly, because like hell is he going to let anyone hurt Arthur when he's around to do something about it.

"This is for you."

The last words are soft, and his expression says that even he's surprised by how soft they are.

He hears that aching softness, and the surprise on his own face is subtler than John's but it still hits home, how hard John has been trying about this, and the worst of Arthur's sharp edges finally settle as he slumps a little to lean on his elbows with a heavy sigh.

"I know you believe that," he says gently. "But I can't deny that it feels a bit like asking me to absolve him of his grievous fuck-up. Y-you know I'm not going to do that."

Lark fucked up, and if he doesn't own that then what's even the point of this entire discussion?

That idea gets a very firm head shake. No. Absolutely not.

"I made it very clear to him that this is him doing what he should for you. You're under no obligation." He shakes his head again. "You're not even under an obligation to agree. If all you want is to know that he told me that, it's done."

He takes a bite of his omelette.

"But I thought you might like a chance to say your piece too. With backup."

He glances away, one hand splayed around the mouth of his empty mug just so he can do something to fidget.

He doesn't particularly want to do this at all. Even he isn't sure how he'll feel about meeting Lark face to face again.

So he sighs again, more quietly as he looks back at John. "Should I assume you've already organised somewhere for us to meet, then?"

He shakes his head.

"I was planning on using one of the empty cabins," he admits, "but I wasn't making arrangements until I talked to you. No one's space: everyone can get to the door."

"No, that- it makes the most sense." No one could lay claim to ownership or custody, private for raised voices, easy to get out of.

"Let's make it as soon as possible, then. Get it over with."

Edited 2024-05-10 03:28 (UTC)

And no one but the parties involved would have any reason to be there.

"If you're sure." He looks very carefully at Arthur. "We could always wait until you have a new warden."

Edited 2024-05-10 03:32 (UTC)

"No." Firm but not aggressive. He's just tired already. "I'd rather get it done now and close this entire fucking chapter. Not drag it out longer than it needs to, especially not getting more wardens involved."

He watches Arthur for a long moment before glancing away.

"We have enough shit to deal with at home. Like hell am I letting this shit happen here."

But he can't help how tired Arthur looks. He can see it. He doesn't shrink but he can't help his voice being smaller.

"...should I... not have, Arthur?"

And he looks up immediately at the change in John's voice, his gaze sympathetic despite himself.

"Quite frankly, John, you're the only one here doing something right." It's a ready admission, because he knows on some level he's being a petty dick. "Lark should know better. He fucking should, but the fact remains he needed to be taken to task about it, just to acknowledge that he fucking hurt me. And because I was hurt, I don't want to have to deal with him." He sighs briefly, his voice a little quieter. "But at the same time, it's not... tenable, for me to just try and ignore him the whole time. Not when he'll still be a fucking warden when we're no longer paired. I ought to face that much head-on, but I wasn't going to, quite gladly."

He pushes his mug and plate away a little. "It's not wrong. It's just... difficult."

"We've handled worse." Soft. "We will again." A steadying breath out. "And I've got your back. He fucked up, but he's not stupid."

A fierceness Arthur has only heard a few times enters his tone then. He'd been gentle with Lark, but he's also been honest about what he is.

"And neither of us is toothless."

He breathes out then, because this can't-

It isn't just the two of them against the world here. It isn't Arthur, and John who'll follow him through hell. It's Arthur, an inmate, and the rest of the Barge, who believe that means something. Who also know that he didn't deserve that. It's just as important as anything Lark says.

"I'm not the only one who spoke to him. Maggie told me she was going to. And she isn't the sort to promise and not follow through. Malcolm did too, and he was the one that gave me the idea it might be useful to try myself. I'm sure you saw the post from Willa; she got several wardens to agree to talk to him: Trevor, B, Ulla, Zerxus, some others. And I saw Saga's post on your ledger page. It was... official-looking."

Edited 2024-05-10 04:38 (UTC)

It would be nice if it was less of a fucking novelty to hear that people are actually on-side for him. He's used to it being mostly John, and even being on the Barge he's really only expanded that circle of known reciprocation to a few people - Sheehan, Willa and Neal come to mind immediately - that people were actually going out of their way to defend him makes something ache in his chest, that he doesn't quite know how to quantify right now.

So instead he just clears his throat, and moves on. He'll care about that later. "Yes, um. Saga actually ran it past me first, to make sure I felt comfortable with her summary of events. I actually wrote something similar in the warden ledger in the Speakeasy on Lark's page."

John is with Arthur, which means he can feel that ache in his chest. The warmth and affection he feels for his partner in that moment isn't something he could really suppress, nor would he want to. Instead, he'll be pleased with all of those who stepped up, friends and otherwise.

"Good."

He looks down at his breakfast and considers it for a moment before holding up a finger and devouring it, letting out a small sigh of delight once he's done.

"Today, then?"

Arthur gives him a much fonder look of exasperation, however brief it is, when John gets back to eating, and he'll take his own dishes to the sink just so he can move.

"Today. Carpe diem, or something. Before I can change my mind."

(He says, like he hasn't changed it in much, much shorter periods before.)

Yeah, John's not fucking with that.

"I'll get it done."

Then-

"...thank you, Arthur."

He's quiet for a few moments at the sink, before he turns to move back to John and press a hand into his back, shifting to lean gently against him and rest his head on John's shoulder.

"You're putting in the effort for this to go well. I don't want that to... to feel wasted."

On him, he manages not to say, when part of him tries to shy away from that affection still.

John will lean back a little against Arthur, nuzzle to his hair.

"Even if you tell him to fuck himself sideways before he even opens his mouth, this won't be a waste."

He kisses into that hair.

"Curious to see what he says?"

Arthur is still Arthur. The urge to know on a mystery like 'what the fuck was that'... he can't imagine Arthur isn't curious.

Gotta dredge up that severed head, after all.

There's a curmudgeonly little harrumph against John's back, the hand against him curling into a loose fist against his shirt.

"...of course." He can admit to himself, at least, that he's not sure he could have said no to the meeting. He just... didn't want to be the bigger person and start the conversation.

That little harrumph is like music to his ears. He leans into the hand against his shirt and lets his eyes slip closed.

"If he tries anything, I can get us out of there. Anything. Including saying any stupid shit."

Edited 2024-05-10 14:20 (UTC)

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