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The longer Noel waited in the booth for Arthur, the more certain he became that something bad had happened. He was already a bit on edge from the announcement of cult activity in New York the previous day, said announcement coming from a man holding Roland's lighter, and the implications of it all. For the person he might be supposed to help to not meet him when they agreed? Well, it deepened the pit in his stomach.
Noel eyed the street through the window as he sipped his coffee - his third cup while waiting. He meant to tell Arthur about Charon and their potential connection to the Order Arthur sought. Charon, known for various kinds of trafficking. More than one person had gone missing because of them. If Arthur had stuck his head in the wrong place, or, even worse, if Noel looking into them queued them onto Arthur… Noel's eyes tightened.
The coffee sloshed as he moved the cup too fast, splashing a few drops onto his shirt. Noel sighed. Okay. Time to make a list for where Arthur could be other than kidnapped by a supernatural trafficking group.
Idea one - Arthur Lester was at the hospital with his father.
Idea two - Arthur had slept late and was still at the house he mentioned.
Idea three - Arthur was still doing stuff with that clergyman he'd walked off with at the hospital.
Idea four …No, he could only think of three not bad things.
Visiting his father after a near death experience did seem likely, but Noel was fairly sure visiting hours didn't start yet. And… what was her name… Cheryl! Cheryl at the front desk very much respected the boundaries of visiting hours. So probably not in there, at least not for this long.
Perhaps Arthur was running late, but Noel had already been at the coffee shop for 30 minutes. Though… hmm. The phone at the shop was unoccupied. A few quick calls revealed that, no he wasn't at the hospital ("Cheryl please stop yelling at me I know visiting hours haven't started yet."), and he hadn't returned to landlord's house last night ("I'll tell him you want to talk to him when I see him. Thank you, ma'am."), and that he'd used a fake name with Marie. ("No, I don't know anyone named Arthur Lester and I'm running out of patience with this call! …Oh, Parker! Yes, hmm. He didn't come back last night, and I haven't seen him today… Is something wrong, Detective?")
Which left the Clergyman. Noel, tired of sitting in the shop, decided to walk towards St. Jean Baptiste for information. Or maybe fast walk. Sitting still felt too much like… stewing.
---
Oscar (the clergyman who whacked the butcher over the head) was definitely acting suspicious. He didn't look Noel in the eye as he said something about how he "saw Arthur yesterday" and how they "parted ways late into the night" and he had "no idea where he is." He floundered and fumbled and rubbed his fingers with his thumb in a clearly nervous habit.
Noel looked at him in bored disbelief and waited. Then he shoved Oscar inside the room and grabbed his collar, making Oscar face him. Oscar gasped in fear.
"Ya really think that's a believable story? Cut the bullshit and tell me where—"
A soft noise.
(Noel wouldn't realize why it froze him to hear that half moan, half whimper until later in the day when he thought about his time before the pits. He'd heard similar noises from himself before, back in Carcosa, between the realms of hallucination and dream, awake enough to know, but asleep enough to do nothing.)
Noel turned, still keeping a grip on Oscar, and moved towards the sound.
Separated from the front of the room by a partition was a small bedroom. There, Arthur Lester slumped, head to his chest, bound to a wooden chair. Something was chalked on the floor around him.
Pushing Oscar into the wall, Noel snarled. "What the fuck is this?"
"Please!" the clergyman begged, "Please listen!- He's-"
A fist pulled back —
"-He's possessed!"
—and stopped.
Noel studied Oscar's face, flinching and turned away, but not the fumbling lies from a few minutes ago.
"…You have 30 seconds to explain."
Oscar took a hurried breath. "I'm trying to help him, he keeps talking to something in him, something powerful, that tried to hurt me. I've- I've seen things like this before, and I know there are things that can be done. Exorcism, perhaps, and- and then he'll be alright. But he wouldn't work with me and the thing in him, I didn't know what it would do if it knew what I was doing, so I drugged him. I'm not- I'm not insane, officer, there are things beyond this world, and… and…"
The panicked words trailed off, Oscar realizing it had been more than the allowed time, and looking at Noel's wide eyes.
A familiar voice inside his head.
Noel made his hand let go of Oscar.
"…Two years I go without anything supernatural." He absently smoothed out the wrinkles he left on Oscar's priestly outfit. "And then Arthur talked to me about it yesterday, and now this today." Noel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jesus."
Each recovered their breath for a moment. Arthur made another small sound and the chair creaked as his left hand tugged at the ropes.
"That keeps happening." Oscar whispered. "His left hand moving of its own accord. The thing controls it, a demon, I think. And… I think he can't see."
A blind man, carrying Roland's lighter.
Something in Noel's gut sank. A simultaneous flicker of adrenaline. He'd promised, back when he still loosely held to the name Charlie like a baby tooth that had one last root attached, he had promised he'd help. And here was his mystery man.
He stepped away from Oscar. "I've got more questions, but later. First…" Noel walked closer to Arthur, stopping before the chalk lines (and dust. It looked like Oscar had gathered dust along it as well. Weird.) and stood.
"Hey, kid? Arthur?" Noel tried to keep his voice quiet. Arthur's eyelids flickered. "Arthur, can you hear me? Try to look up."
A slow head movement. Arthur's pupils were blown wide with whatever drugs Oscar had given, eyes very unfocused, looking into the far off distance unseeing.
"MmrrhnnNol'?"
"Yeah." Noel crouched slightly. "It's me. I'm sure you're tired, but I've got a few questions I need you to answer. Okay?"
A pointless wiggle of arms against the ropes. "Whuua? Jhhn?"
Oscar gasped loudly. "That's the- he keeps saying 'John,' I-"
Noel held up a hand for silence.
"Arthur," soft, smooth, comforting, he knew the tones well from his own time being interrogated, "who's talking to you?"
Another half word, half sound, part of a dialogue Noel couldn't understand.
"Arthur." A breath. "Arthur, you hear someone, a voice in your head, right? John?"
"Jhn…wha..." a larger pull with both hands.
"Who is John, kid?"
A more panicked noise, Arthur's addled mind starting to put together the situation.
Noel reached across the space between them and cupped Arthur's face in a hand. Oscar startled again, but kept quiet.
"I need you to focus for me, kid." Some muttering from Arthur, cut off in a gasp when Noel lightly patted Arthur's cheek. "Who's John?"
"My friend." the word was a whine as Arthur tried in vain to move his head away from Noel.
Sure, it probably felt like that to Arthur. But Noel was beginning to run out of patience. So—
"He the King in Yellow?"
Arthur froze - eyes almost trying to focus, a whimper escaping his throat - then began to hyperventilate.
"You… you know…?"
Fuck. Sorrow and pain swarmed Noel's chest. "Yeah, Arthur. Yeah, I know."
Noel stood and faced Oscar again, who was rubbing his hands in worry, looking at Arthur.
"This isn't just a demon. This is going to be incredibly difficult."
Oscar's eyes flew to Noel. "Wait, you're-"
"Yeah, I'm helping." Noel cut him off. "I know what's in Arthur. And I promised someone I'd help him, a while ago. That's hard to explain, but…" He looked Oscar up and down, at the bags under his eyes and the slight tremor in his hands, "but I've been waiting for this for two years. So, of course I'm going to help you, help Arthur."
"Oh, Lord bless you." Oscar's eyes shone with yet to fall tears.
Noel resisted the urge to laugh at that. He knew what gods were like. He didn't particularly want any of them to bless him, not even the ones who claimed to be benevolent.
"Don't start askin' your god to bless people yet, clergyman." Noel moved towards the exit of the partition. "We still have work to do."
As soon as they both were back in the front part of Oscar's little abode, the chair started creaking even louder, Arthur's quick breaths turning into small panicked words as he struggled.
Oscar looked back in concern, then set his mouth into a thin line and walked back into the area with Arthur.
"Arthur, stop that. You're going to hurt yourself. Again."
Noel moved around the corner to see Oscar standing in front of the circle, hands out placatingly, but face firm. Sweat dotted Arthur's temples as he twisted against the ropes, a growl leaving his mouth. Still not entirely coordinated, still had the drugs in his system, but was regaining the will and ability to move. Noel remembered frustrating his captors whenever he was in that zone of awareness. The King once compared him to a young kitten who lacks the ability to move well, but doesn't know that or won't let that stop him. He had to admit, it wasn't a bad comparison, watching Arthur squirm.
"You got any more of whatever knocked him out?" both bodies in the room startled as Noel spoke. Arthur pulled against the ropes on his wrists even harder, allowing Noel to see a bandage under them, and a small bit of blood bleeding through.
"Do you think that's necessary?" Oscar looked reluctant.
Noel shrugged. "That or a good gag so no good samaritans in the church let him out."
"No, no, no," Arthur whimpered, "don't, please, no—"
Noel covered Arthur's mouth, held his hand solidly over it through Arthur trying to twist away, words muffled into mmphs and whines.
Oscar paused in thought before sighing. "Alright. Give me a moment."
Arthur tried to bite Noel's hand at least three times in the time it took for Oscar to return. (Noel was once again reminded of the kitten comparison in the small pressure on his hand.) Oscar held a syringe in his hand as he approached. A delayed moment later, Arthur tried to scream.
"Hey-" "It's alright-" Noel and Oscar started at the same time before pausing in realization.
"Mmph! Nnnm!" more screaming from Arthur. Which someone would probably hear if they didn't do something.
"Arthur, hey!" Noel leaned closer, tried to further hold him, used a calm, coaxing voice. "Hey, it's okay. We'll be here when you wake up and you'll be okay."
"You need help, Arthur." Oscar added. "We're going to make sure you're alright, understand?"
More muffled protests.
Oscar sighed again. "Hold still. It'll hurt less."
Arthur did not hold still on his own accord. Noel and Oscar worked together, holding down Arthur's shoulder and pressing the needle into his neck. Slowly, his writhing slowed, protests becoming groggier and groggier, until Arthur went limp again.
Both held on a while longer. Just in case Arthur was faking, Noel told himself. When the deep breaths of sleep continued, Noel finally backed away and gestured for Oscar to do the same.
They each allowed themselves another moment of quiet, of almost peace, before they walked towards the door.
Like Noel had said earlier, they had work to do and someone they'd promised to help.