“ JOHNNY ”

-🦑

You sound like my old bosses with that.

Would you tell me how? I might not do it, but I am curious, I’ll give you that.

[All to look for a dear friend he met along the way, before he went insane]

[Johnny can see a tell man with long green hair and red aviators approaching Beanie's and passing by him without batting an eye to get a coffee inside. Only when he gets his order does he look for the man, taking out a cig and standing next to him]

[He frowns]

[He finishes his cup of coffee, throwing it in the trash before extending his now free hand to shake]

[Wilbur is out and about, looking for a new job that is enjoyable enough but had nothing to do with the military. Being in PEIP was already stressful enough before the incident, and he's certain he won't be welcome if he did come back.

...that's my jacket.

John shrugs, smiling.

He looks a bit uncomfortable at the concept of being called normal, certainly he isn’t and hasn’t been for so long. He messes with his jacket again to keep his hands busy, not looking in Wilbur’s eyes.

[Wilbur is out and about, looking for a new job that is enjoyable enough but had nothing to do with the military. Being in PEIP was already stressful enough before the incident, and he's certain he won't be welcome if he did come back.

...that's my jacket.

John shrugs, smiling.

He looks a bit uncomfortable at the concept of being called normal, certainly he isn’t and hasn’t been for so long. He messes with his jacket again to keep his hands busy, not looking in Wilbur’s eyes.

-🦑

You sound like my old bosses with that.

Would you tell me how? I might not do it, but I am curious, I’ll give you that.

[All to look for a dear friend he met along the way, before he went insane]

[Johnny can see a tell man with long green hair and red aviators approaching Beanie's and passing by him without batting an eye to get a coffee inside. Only when he gets his order does he look for the man, taking out a cig and standing next to him]

[He frowns]

[He finishes his cup of coffee, throwing it in the trash before extending his now free hand to shake]

“You aren’t him. Who are you?”

[ @previously-missing-in-action /nf ! ]

John froze for just a moment. He didn’t know how to react, only looking over with his one remaining eye.

He eventually relaxes, expression chsngign to one of confusion.

“You aren’t supposed to reside in a place like this.”

Its other hand moved to the man’s chin, gripping it and having a look over the man’s face. Its eyes narrowed.

He winces when his face was grabbed, his eye narrowing as he glares straight back.

He’s well aware of what he looks like, and how different he has to be from who he was before the portal, from any other version of himself.

Finally, the hand moved off John’s shoulder. Only to go up and dangerously poke near the eye instead. “You look different, I’ll give you that.” It mumbled, hand now moving to roam over John’s cheek. Pinching at it. It knew about other worlds. Other Johns. It’s seen plenty, of course. But.. Never something so different.

A mirror to Wiley, after all.

He wasn’t a biggest fan of the touch, it was so different. Not exactly a bad kind of different, just weird.

“I take you like that I’m different? That one version of me finally joined you and our Lords instead of fighting a fight that he’d never win…?”

He feels a sense of pride when he’s complimented and called adorable. And being called the first of his kind.

“Oh, and an outfit change. Get something more.. Well, better. Less that, more professional for people like us.” It winked. And yet, despite finding the same fondness for John like it always had.. It just didn’t feel like John. “Sport some denim on that wonderful body of yours, maybe a touch of green. Glad you haven’t changed your hair, that’s always been my favourite part about you.”

He adjusted his outfit, things that once belonged to his own Wilbur paired with military attire, the supposed protective suit torn, barely even anything anymore.

“If you could get me anything new, I’d happily wear it. And no worries, I’m keeping my hair.”

He offers a smile, face flushing just barely at the praise.

“If it’s any help..” It began, gesturing at the single green eye it had, the iris slightly glimmering. “..I haven’t taken out my other eye and put the second green one in. I could find it for you, see if it’ll work in your ol’ socket. Might do you some good, being at your best. Besides, we’ll match.” It winked at him.

Slowly, Wiley slips the denim jacket off its shoulders. It offered the piece of clothing to John.

His face is close to red now, as much as his body really allows. He doesn’t know if it’s because of old memories or Wiley’s kindness or something else, but he genuinely likes the other.

He takes the denim jacket after shedding the destroyed “suit”, if it can even be called that, wrapping up in it. It fits wonderfully, and Wiley’s met with a fanged smile.

Wiley didn’t need to imagine what Wiggly had been like. It had experienced something similar, after all. Just.. More mild. Maybe it’ll consider itself a favourite. “Well, it’s good that He kept you alive. Be grateful for that. Some would be discarded and killed without even a glance at them.”

Once John put on the jacket, its hands moved out to adjust and feel at it. It stepped closer. “It certainly looks amazin’ on you, Johnny. Better than myself. Definitely keep it.” It pat at John’s chest momentarily. “Makes you look more frightenin’.”

It looked away, as a hand snaked around John’s waist. Pulling the man in closer. A grin danced along its lips.

He smiles softly, his eye staying on Wiley, letting it adjust the jacket on him. He holds it back, just for a moment, at least. It was nice, as was the jacket itself. Made him feel safer, too. Plus it looks nice.

It’s almost ideal, having a version of John that was on the right side. That he wasn’t snivelling away for PEIP and meddling in plans. But.. Even so, this still isn’t it’s John. The one Wiley valued, despite seeing him as a challenge. Even if it’s hard to tell who that was, when it’s seen a few of them before. And, could it trust this one? It should. But it couldn’t, not immediately.

He chuckles a bit as he was spun around, sticking close to Wiley.

“I should…probably skip the nastier parts. Though I’ll say dematerializing is..something. More painful than expected. And Wiggly can’t exactly get human limbs perfect.”

It’s easy to see at least on one of his arms, it looks…wrong. It looks like heavily scarred human flesh but also not at the same time. It functions perfect, at least.

“Being dragged around timelines sure is something too. Never thought I’d kill any innocent people, but I did. Wasn’t…as bad. Maybe because the Lords were there. Who knows”

Wiley’s unphased by the idea of nastier details. It’s pulled out its own eye to put in a green one. It’s seen horrible things, before the portal and after devoting itself. “I’ve watched one of you dematerialise before. Not you, of course. But another.” It can remember such a thing clearly, the stare he was given. “I didn’t think you’d be dragged around to timelines, the way you act. You would’ve known to grab clothing off a certain someone. Maybe even had some particular fights to lock in a timeline’s fate.” And yet, it merely shrugged. Unbothered in its own words.

A hand moved to drag down, fingers trailing over the scarred not-quite human flesh. From afar, it might. But, looking closer, it’s hard to miss the details that are simply off.

“You’re soft. Too soft. Too human, still.”

He shows Wiley his nails, truly looking more like claws. They’re stained with blood.

“I got thrown around at first. To separate me from who I was, from my home timeline and who I had, from the old values. It…partially worked. Wiggly wasn’t too happy with me early on.”

Even with everything, a lot of his old self remained. He hated it. He wasn’t who he was back then.

“I know they’re not. I was just saying…back in the day, they would’ve been. I know what I have to do. But sometimes killing isn’t easy.”

Nor is facing a version of Wiley that looks at him with pure hate and disgust, on order.

But he did what he had to.

“I hate it. Being like I used to. I shouldn’t be.”

“But sometimes killing isn’t easy?” It echoed after John, scoffing. “Of course it would be, if you cared about that. But you don’t. You shouldn’t.” It insisted, hand suddenly snaking up and moving to grab the man’s chin. Wiley’s nails digging into his skin. “You need to get that fixed. Because if there’s any sort of doubt, any sort of wavering loyalty? There will be no hesitation for Him to rid of you.” It snarled.

“It’s not about any wavering loyalty.”

It’s a big hard to talk, with Wiley’s nails digging into his skin hard enough it hurt.

“I don’t know why I am like that. I shouldn’t be. Only people I care for are myself and my Wilbur. And now you. The Lords are a given.”

He shrugs, seeming almost defeated, his eye stuck staring at Wiley. He knows he isn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing should matter but the Lords.

But he always was one to follow a higher decree.

“You shouldn’t care for anything except The Lords. Not me. Not Wilbur. Nothing else. Allowing such a thing outside of who your devoted for is giving way to weakness. To being soft. To being human.” It snarled at him once more, teeth showing off and glinting despite any specific lighting source. “You need to remember you aren’t human. Wiggog Himself has made you more. Separated your existence to those pathetic creatures and has changed you. Do not act like those whiny creatures.”

It yanked John’s face closer, so they both were mere inches apart. “Maybe there’s a reason for only one Johnny being around.” It whispered, before pushing his head away and letting go at the same time.

He mumbles and rubs at his face. He’s sure Wiley’s nails left marks in his cheeks. Not that it matters.

“Forgive me though for caring about you. And the man who is a big part of who I am. It doesn’t make me too human.”

He looks defeated, the tentacles he’s been hiding wrapping around himself, under the denim jacket he refused to take off still.

“I can do my job well. Despite it. In spite of it. You haven’t seen me work.”

It adjusted its shirt briefly, before side-eyeing John. “No, you care about a version of me. You’ve only just met me, John.” It answered, face returning to neutrality. “I do love you. Or, my John. Who I would kill when The Lords will eventually demand it. Even if he currently lives because of a deal we have, and I don’t swindle or cheat my way out of a deal. But that doesn’t get in the way of my work and life. It doesn’t get in the way of The Lords.”

He looks hurt and defeated all at once, too obvious with his emotions. He never really learned how to rein them in, even under the Lords. Which…wasn’t too great.

He wanted to get rid of that fact, wanting to be perfect. For Wiley and the Lords. Prove he’s like Wiley, not a pathetic human. Hell he wasn’t even human anymore.

“If it matters I had to face a version of you in my first timeline outside of my own. It didn’t go too well, but I did what I had to do. Did what was ordered.”

Wiley stepped back in close, a hand going to rest lightly on John’s chest. Not grabbing, not pushing away.. Just resting there.

His eyes drop to his chest, to Wiley’s hand. He reaches for it without thinking, holding it in place. He almost swears his heart speeds up. He can’t really remember if he actually has a heartbeat or not.

“It wasn’t all that gorey. And I don’t remember it all either. I got thrown into a random timeline under orders to eliminate as much of PEIP as I could. Starting with Wil. Apparently I didn’t exist there…or something, which made it easier? I don’t know. Still had the military uniform and the gun. Still got the gun now really…”

He’s rambling, trying to get his words straight, claws tapping on the back of Wiley’s hand.

“I could’ve been worse to him. More than gunshots in the head and heart, like PEIP once ordered far back. It was weird to watch. I wasn’t thinking until it was done, and I saw him die. Couldn’t do anything, didn’t do anything. Just watched the light go.”

It was so early then, he still recalled all the PEIP training. And at least that Wilbur’s death was quick. Better than anything he could’ve done. Damn Wilbur being too important to him.

It didn't even listen, glancing down at its hand. The slight clink of those odd claws against it. A bizarre but oddly nice sensation. Only catching a few sentences or words from John's rambling. Eventually, its head raised to meet John's gaze once more.

“He didn’t do anything? No fighting back against you, no pleading for his life?” It wouldn’t expect a man like that to plead, of course. It expected better of him, even if he’d die. “Didn’t do some sappy shit and say I love you before you shot?”

Its free hand moved to John's chin, bringing it up gently to meet its eyes.

He looks up at Wiley’s his face was held, his hand still holding Wiley’s other one.

“He begged and pleaded, said this wasn’t like me. Said he’d do anything. But…had to follow orders.”

Even if Wiley didn’t fully believe him.

John didn’t let go of Wiley’s hand either, holding it tight.

Its nails now pressed against John’s chest, digging in through the fabric. Its eyes narrowed. “I fully think you’re weak, because you still have connections from your old life and haven’t let that go. Your life is The Lords now. Leave Wilbur in the past. Care only for the beings you devote your new existence to.”

“It’s not my fault. You can’t tell me you’re still not connected to your version of me. Disciple work or not, we both know what we’ve been to each other. It’s not so easy to let him go like that.”

As much as he’d want to, he can’t. Wilbur’s been incredibly important to his life for nearly all of it. He can’t just…abandon that.

“I am not connected to him. You make it sound like I’m still in a relationship with him. I am not. I am not Wilbur anymore. I am not the man he fell in love with and trained with, before stepping into the portal. I am not the man who whispered sweet words to him over a shared cigarette. I am not the man who saved his life multiple times, and him to me in return. Not anymore.” It snarled, nails going to rake down slowly until its hand was wrapped around John’s neck. Tightly holding it, but not squeezing.

“I am not Wilbur, and I will never return to being that man. I am Wiley, Wiggog’s disciple and aid to The Lords. I may have been Wilbur before my full devotion, but he is dead. Even if we were the same person. It’s always easier to consider him a seperate entity now. I have embraced my new life and left my old one behind.”

“I know you’re not the same man. Neither of us are the same we were. I really only have the holdup when it comes to Wil. Devotion to our Lords is there and has been since Wiggly saved me from dematerializing. Maybe I just need something to snap me out of that ‘weakness’ you think I have.”

He never saw his care for Wilbur as weak. It was just a fact of his life, caring about the man who made him into who he was for so much of his life. The care rarely ever stopped him from his work and orders anyway.

He reached for the hand on his throat, grabbing it but not trying to move it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just rip its hand off him.

The muscles in its arm flexed once it’s grabbed, finding it odd that it’s not immediately moved or taken away.

Damn him having a heart.

“PEIP deserves to be destroyed. We both know it. They’re horrid, and they go against us and our Lords.”

John still doesn’t more Wiley’s hand. His hand is just resting on its hand, claws just slightly digging in.

There’s a prickling of where John’s claws are digging just slightly into its hand. It doesn’t hurt. Rather, it’s grounding. It still wasn’t entirely convinced, but John’s getting on the right track.

“How I do it? Oh, just don’t think about the feelings that arise. It’s easy. But, you’ve always been the more emotional one. Always caught up in details.”

He didn’t fully mind it, it was way more grounding than it should’ve been, only freaking him out for a moment earlier. Plus it’s not like he really needs to breathe so much anyway.

“I see. I’ll…do that. That doesn’t seem too tough.”

Which, felt like its point was proven.

“Oh, you aren’t doing it.” The hand against his throat suddenly tightened and squeezed. “Because I wouldn’t be able to do this, otherwise.” Again, the hand tightened further. Nails dug into the man’s flesh. It knew it couldn’t kill John, not permanently. The Black Blade could only permanently kill Wiley, so it’s assuming the same for John. But, was it correct about that? Who knows.

And frankly, he didn’t care about the hand on his throat until now. He didn’t necessarily need to breathe so his airway being compromised didn’t matter, but it still hurt. Wiley was strong, way stronger than John, even.

“Flirting then…this. Why?”

“You aren’t him. Who are you?”

[ @previously-missing-in-action /nf ! ]

John froze for just a moment. He didn’t know how to react, only looking over with his one remaining eye.

He eventually relaxes, expression chsngign to one of confusion.

“You aren’t supposed to reside in a place like this.”

Its other hand moved to the man’s chin, gripping it and having a look over the man’s face. Its eyes narrowed.

He winces when his face was grabbed, his eye narrowing as he glares straight back.

He’s well aware of what he looks like, and how different he has to be from who he was before the portal, from any other version of himself.

Finally, the hand moved off John’s shoulder. Only to go up and dangerously poke near the eye instead. “You look different, I’ll give you that.” It mumbled, hand now moving to roam over John’s cheek. Pinching at it. It knew about other worlds. Other Johns. It’s seen plenty, of course. But.. Never something so different.

A mirror to Wiley, after all.

He wasn’t a biggest fan of the touch, it was so different. Not exactly a bad kind of different, just weird.

“I take you like that I’m different? That one version of me finally joined you and our Lords instead of fighting a fight that he’d never win…?”

He feels a sense of pride when he’s complimented and called adorable. And being called the first of his kind.

“Oh, and an outfit change. Get something more.. Well, better. Less that, more professional for people like us.” It winked. And yet, despite finding the same fondness for John like it always had.. It just didn’t feel like John. “Sport some denim on that wonderful body of yours, maybe a touch of green. Glad you haven’t changed your hair, that’s always been my favourite part about you.”

He adjusted his outfit, things that once belonged to his own Wilbur paired with military attire, the supposed protective suit torn, barely even anything anymore.

“If you could get me anything new, I’d happily wear it. And no worries, I’m keeping my hair.”

He offers a smile, face flushing just barely at the praise.

“If it’s any help..” It began, gesturing at the single green eye it had, the iris slightly glimmering. “..I haven’t taken out my other eye and put the second green one in. I could find it for you, see if it’ll work in your ol’ socket. Might do you some good, being at your best. Besides, we’ll match.” It winked at him.

Slowly, Wiley slips the denim jacket off its shoulders. It offered the piece of clothing to John.

His face is close to red now, as much as his body really allows. He doesn’t know if it’s because of old memories or Wiley’s kindness or something else, but he genuinely likes the other.

He takes the denim jacket after shedding the destroyed “suit”, if it can even be called that, wrapping up in it. It fits wonderfully, and Wiley’s met with a fanged smile.

Wiley didn’t need to imagine what Wiggly had been like. It had experienced something similar, after all. Just.. More mild. Maybe it’ll consider itself a favourite. “Well, it’s good that He kept you alive. Be grateful for that. Some would be discarded and killed without even a glance at them.”

Once John put on the jacket, its hands moved out to adjust and feel at it. It stepped closer. “It certainly looks amazin’ on you, Johnny. Better than myself. Definitely keep it.” It pat at John’s chest momentarily. “Makes you look more frightenin’.”

It looked away, as a hand snaked around John’s waist. Pulling the man in closer. A grin danced along its lips.

He smiles softly, his eye staying on Wiley, letting it adjust the jacket on him. He holds it back, just for a moment, at least. It was nice, as was the jacket itself. Made him feel safer, too. Plus it looks nice.

It’s almost ideal, having a version of John that was on the right side. That he wasn’t snivelling away for PEIP and meddling in plans. But.. Even so, this still isn’t it’s John. The one Wiley valued, despite seeing him as a challenge. Even if it’s hard to tell who that was, when it’s seen a few of them before. And, could it trust this one? It should. But it couldn’t, not immediately.

He chuckles a bit as he was spun around, sticking close to Wiley.

“I should…probably skip the nastier parts. Though I’ll say dematerializing is..something. More painful than expected. And Wiggly can’t exactly get human limbs perfect.”

It’s easy to see at least on one of his arms, it looks…wrong. It looks like heavily scarred human flesh but also not at the same time. It functions perfect, at least.

“Being dragged around timelines sure is something too. Never thought I’d kill any innocent people, but I did. Wasn’t…as bad. Maybe because the Lords were there. Who knows”

Wiley’s unphased by the idea of nastier details. It’s pulled out its own eye to put in a green one. It’s seen horrible things, before the portal and after devoting itself. “I’ve watched one of you dematerialise before. Not you, of course. But another.” It can remember such a thing clearly, the stare he was given. “I didn’t think you’d be dragged around to timelines, the way you act. You would’ve known to grab clothing off a certain someone. Maybe even had some particular fights to lock in a timeline’s fate.” And yet, it merely shrugged. Unbothered in its own words.

A hand moved to drag down, fingers trailing over the scarred not-quite human flesh. From afar, it might. But, looking closer, it’s hard to miss the details that are simply off.

“You’re soft. Too soft. Too human, still.”

He shows Wiley his nails, truly looking more like claws. They’re stained with blood.

“I got thrown around at first. To separate me from who I was, from my home timeline and who I had, from the old values. It…partially worked. Wiggly wasn’t too happy with me early on.”

Even with everything, a lot of his old self remained. He hated it. He wasn’t who he was back then.

“I know they’re not. I was just saying…back in the day, they would’ve been. I know what I have to do. But sometimes killing isn’t easy.”

Nor is facing a version of Wiley that looks at him with pure hate and disgust, on order.

But he did what he had to.

“I hate it. Being like I used to. I shouldn’t be.”

“But sometimes killing isn’t easy?” It echoed after John, scoffing. “Of course it would be, if you cared about that. But you don’t. You shouldn’t.” It insisted, hand suddenly snaking up and moving to grab the man’s chin. Wiley’s nails digging into his skin. “You need to get that fixed. Because if there’s any sort of doubt, any sort of wavering loyalty? There will be no hesitation for Him to rid of you.” It snarled.

“It’s not about any wavering loyalty.”

It’s a big hard to talk, with Wiley’s nails digging into his skin hard enough it hurt.

“I don’t know why I am like that. I shouldn’t be. Only people I care for are myself and my Wilbur. And now you. The Lords are a given.”

He shrugs, seeming almost defeated, his eye stuck staring at Wiley. He knows he isn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing should matter but the Lords.

But he always was one to follow a higher decree.

“You shouldn’t care for anything except The Lords. Not me. Not Wilbur. Nothing else. Allowing such a thing outside of who your devoted for is giving way to weakness. To being soft. To being human.” It snarled at him once more, teeth showing off and glinting despite any specific lighting source. “You need to remember you aren’t human. Wiggog Himself has made you more. Separated your existence to those pathetic creatures and has changed you. Do not act like those whiny creatures.”

It yanked John’s face closer, so they both were mere inches apart. “Maybe there’s a reason for only one Johnny being around.” It whispered, before pushing his head away and letting go at the same time.

He mumbles and rubs at his face. He’s sure Wiley’s nails left marks in his cheeks. Not that it matters.

“Forgive me though for caring about you. And the man who is a big part of who I am. It doesn’t make me too human.”

He looks defeated, the tentacles he’s been hiding wrapping around himself, under the denim jacket he refused to take off still.

“I can do my job well. Despite it. In spite of it. You haven’t seen me work.”

It adjusted its shirt briefly, before side-eyeing John. “No, you care about a version of me. You’ve only just met me, John.” It answered, face returning to neutrality. “I do love you. Or, my John. Who I would kill when The Lords will eventually demand it. Even if he currently lives because of a deal we have, and I don’t swindle or cheat my way out of a deal. But that doesn’t get in the way of my work and life. It doesn’t get in the way of The Lords.”

He looks hurt and defeated all at once, too obvious with his emotions. He never really learned how to rein them in, even under the Lords. Which…wasn’t too great.

He wanted to get rid of that fact, wanting to be perfect. For Wiley and the Lords. Prove he’s like Wiley, not a pathetic human. Hell he wasn’t even human anymore.

“If it matters I had to face a version of you in my first timeline outside of my own. It didn’t go too well, but I did what I had to do. Did what was ordered.”

Wiley stepped back in close, a hand going to rest lightly on John’s chest. Not grabbing, not pushing away.. Just resting there.

His eyes drop to his chest, to Wiley’s hand. He reaches for it without thinking, holding it in place. He almost swears his heart speeds up. He can’t really remember if he actually has a heartbeat or not.

“It wasn’t all that gorey. And I don’t remember it all either. I got thrown into a random timeline under orders to eliminate as much of PEIP as I could. Starting with Wil. Apparently I didn’t exist there…or something, which made it easier? I don’t know. Still had the military uniform and the gun. Still got the gun now really…”

He’s rambling, trying to get his words straight, claws tapping on the back of Wiley’s hand.

“I could’ve been worse to him. More than gunshots in the head and heart, like PEIP once ordered far back. It was weird to watch. I wasn’t thinking until it was done, and I saw him die. Couldn’t do anything, didn’t do anything. Just watched the light go.”

It was so early then, he still recalled all the PEIP training. And at least that Wilbur’s death was quick. Better than anything he could’ve done. Damn Wilbur being too important to him.

It didn't even listen, glancing down at its hand. The slight clink of those odd claws against it. A bizarre but oddly nice sensation. Only catching a few sentences or words from John's rambling. Eventually, its head raised to meet John's gaze once more.

“He didn’t do anything? No fighting back against you, no pleading for his life?” It wouldn’t expect a man like that to plead, of course. It expected better of him, even if he’d die. “Didn’t do some sappy shit and say I love you before you shot?”

Its free hand moved to John's chin, bringing it up gently to meet its eyes.

He looks up at Wiley’s his face was held, his hand still holding Wiley’s other one.

“He begged and pleaded, said this wasn’t like me. Said he’d do anything. But…had to follow orders.”

Even if Wiley didn’t fully believe him.

John didn’t let go of Wiley’s hand either, holding it tight.

Its nails now pressed against John’s chest, digging in through the fabric. Its eyes narrowed. “I fully think you’re weak, because you still have connections from your old life and haven’t let that go. Your life is The Lords now. Leave Wilbur in the past. Care only for the beings you devote your new existence to.”

“It’s not my fault. You can’t tell me you’re still not connected to your version of me. Disciple work or not, we both know what we’ve been to each other. It’s not so easy to let him go like that.”

As much as he’d want to, he can’t. Wilbur’s been incredibly important to his life for nearly all of it. He can’t just…abandon that.

“I am not connected to him. You make it sound like I’m still in a relationship with him. I am not. I am not Wilbur anymore. I am not the man he fell in love with and trained with, before stepping into the portal. I am not the man who whispered sweet words to him over a shared cigarette. I am not the man who saved his life multiple times, and him to me in return. Not anymore.” It snarled, nails going to rake down slowly until its hand was wrapped around John’s neck. Tightly holding it, but not squeezing.

“I am not Wilbur, and I will never return to being that man. I am Wiley, Wiggog’s disciple and aid to The Lords. I may have been Wilbur before my full devotion, but he is dead. Even if we were the same person. It’s always easier to consider him a seperate entity now. I have embraced my new life and left my old one behind.”

“I know you’re not the same man. Neither of us are the same we were. I really only have the holdup when it comes to Wil. Devotion to our Lords is there and has been since Wiggly saved me from dematerializing. Maybe I just need something to snap me out of that ‘weakness’ you think I have.”

He never saw his care for Wilbur as weak. It was just a fact of his life, caring about the man who made him into who he was for so much of his life. The care rarely ever stopped him from his work and orders anyway.

He reached for the hand on his throat, grabbing it but not trying to move it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just rip its hand off him.

The muscles in its arm flexed once it’s grabbed, finding it odd that it’s not immediately moved or taken away.

Damn him having a heart.

“PEIP deserves to be destroyed. We both know it. They’re horrid, and they go against us and our Lords.”

John still doesn’t more Wiley’s hand. His hand is just resting on its hand, claws just slightly digging in.

There’s a prickling of where John’s claws are digging just slightly into its hand. It doesn’t hurt. Rather, it’s grounding. It still wasn’t entirely convinced, but John’s getting on the right track.

“How I do it? Oh, just don’t think about the feelings that arise. It’s easy. But, you’ve always been the more emotional one. Always caught up in details.”

He didn’t fully mind it, it was way more grounding than it should’ve been, only freaking him out for a moment earlier. Plus it’s not like he really needs to breathe so much anyway.

“I see. I’ll…do that. That doesn’t seem too tough.”

Which, felt like its point was proven.

“Oh, you aren’t doing it.” The hand against his throat suddenly tightened and squeezed. “Because I wouldn’t be able to do this, otherwise.” Again, the hand tightened further. Nails dug into the man’s flesh. It knew it couldn’t kill John, not permanently. The Black Blade could only permanently kill Wiley, so it’s assuming the same for John. But, was it correct about that? Who knows.

And frankly, he didn’t care about the hand on his throat until now. He didn’t necessarily need to breathe so his airway being compromised didn’t matter, but it still hurt. Wiley was strong, way stronger than John, even.

“Flirting then…this. Why?”

“You aren’t him. Who are you?”

[ @previously-missing-in-action /nf ! ]

John froze for just a moment. He didn’t know how to react, only looking over with his one remaining eye.

He eventually relaxes, expression chsngign to one of confusion.

“You aren’t supposed to reside in a place like this.”

Its other hand moved to the man’s chin, gripping it and having a look over the man’s face. Its eyes narrowed.

He winces when his face was grabbed, his eye narrowing as he glares straight back.

He’s well aware of what he looks like, and how different he has to be from who he was before the portal, from any other version of himself.

Finally, the hand moved off John’s shoulder. Only to go up and dangerously poke near the eye instead. “You look different, I’ll give you that.” It mumbled, hand now moving to roam over John’s cheek. Pinching at it. It knew about other worlds. Other Johns. It’s seen plenty, of course. But.. Never something so different.

A mirror to Wiley, after all.

He wasn’t a biggest fan of the touch, it was so different. Not exactly a bad kind of different, just weird.

“I take you like that I’m different? That one version of me finally joined you and our Lords instead of fighting a fight that he’d never win…?”

He feels a sense of pride when he’s complimented and called adorable. And being called the first of his kind.

“Oh, and an outfit change. Get something more.. Well, better. Less that, more professional for people like us.” It winked. And yet, despite finding the same fondness for John like it always had.. It just didn’t feel like John. “Sport some denim on that wonderful body of yours, maybe a touch of green. Glad you haven’t changed your hair, that’s always been my favourite part about you.”

He adjusted his outfit, things that once belonged to his own Wilbur paired with military attire, the supposed protective suit torn, barely even anything anymore.

“If you could get me anything new, I’d happily wear it. And no worries, I’m keeping my hair.”

He offers a smile, face flushing just barely at the praise.

“If it’s any help..” It began, gesturing at the single green eye it had, the iris slightly glimmering. “..I haven’t taken out my other eye and put the second green one in. I could find it for you, see if it’ll work in your ol’ socket. Might do you some good, being at your best. Besides, we’ll match.” It winked at him.

Slowly, Wiley slips the denim jacket off its shoulders. It offered the piece of clothing to John.

His face is close to red now, as much as his body really allows. He doesn’t know if it’s because of old memories or Wiley’s kindness or something else, but he genuinely likes the other.

He takes the denim jacket after shedding the destroyed “suit”, if it can even be called that, wrapping up in it. It fits wonderfully, and Wiley’s met with a fanged smile.

Wiley didn’t need to imagine what Wiggly had been like. It had experienced something similar, after all. Just.. More mild. Maybe it’ll consider itself a favourite. “Well, it’s good that He kept you alive. Be grateful for that. Some would be discarded and killed without even a glance at them.”

Once John put on the jacket, its hands moved out to adjust and feel at it. It stepped closer. “It certainly looks amazin’ on you, Johnny. Better than myself. Definitely keep it.” It pat at John’s chest momentarily. “Makes you look more frightenin’.”

It looked away, as a hand snaked around John’s waist. Pulling the man in closer. A grin danced along its lips.

He smiles softly, his eye staying on Wiley, letting it adjust the jacket on him. He holds it back, just for a moment, at least. It was nice, as was the jacket itself. Made him feel safer, too. Plus it looks nice.

It’s almost ideal, having a version of John that was on the right side. That he wasn’t snivelling away for PEIP and meddling in plans. But.. Even so, this still isn’t it’s John. The one Wiley valued, despite seeing him as a challenge. Even if it’s hard to tell who that was, when it’s seen a few of them before. And, could it trust this one? It should. But it couldn’t, not immediately.

He chuckles a bit as he was spun around, sticking close to Wiley.

“I should…probably skip the nastier parts. Though I’ll say dematerializing is..something. More painful than expected. And Wiggly can’t exactly get human limbs perfect.”

It’s easy to see at least on one of his arms, it looks…wrong. It looks like heavily scarred human flesh but also not at the same time. It functions perfect, at least.

“Being dragged around timelines sure is something too. Never thought I’d kill any innocent people, but I did. Wasn’t…as bad. Maybe because the Lords were there. Who knows”

Wiley’s unphased by the idea of nastier details. It’s pulled out its own eye to put in a green one. It’s seen horrible things, before the portal and after devoting itself. “I’ve watched one of you dematerialise before. Not you, of course. But another.” It can remember such a thing clearly, the stare he was given. “I didn’t think you’d be dragged around to timelines, the way you act. You would’ve known to grab clothing off a certain someone. Maybe even had some particular fights to lock in a timeline’s fate.” And yet, it merely shrugged. Unbothered in its own words.

A hand moved to drag down, fingers trailing over the scarred not-quite human flesh. From afar, it might. But, looking closer, it’s hard to miss the details that are simply off.

“You’re soft. Too soft. Too human, still.”

He shows Wiley his nails, truly looking more like claws. They’re stained with blood.

“I got thrown around at first. To separate me from who I was, from my home timeline and who I had, from the old values. It…partially worked. Wiggly wasn’t too happy with me early on.”

Even with everything, a lot of his old self remained. He hated it. He wasn’t who he was back then.

“I know they’re not. I was just saying…back in the day, they would’ve been. I know what I have to do. But sometimes killing isn’t easy.”

Nor is facing a version of Wiley that looks at him with pure hate and disgust, on order.

But he did what he had to.

“I hate it. Being like I used to. I shouldn’t be.”

“But sometimes killing isn’t easy?” It echoed after John, scoffing. “Of course it would be, if you cared about that. But you don’t. You shouldn’t.” It insisted, hand suddenly snaking up and moving to grab the man’s chin. Wiley’s nails digging into his skin. “You need to get that fixed. Because if there’s any sort of doubt, any sort of wavering loyalty? There will be no hesitation for Him to rid of you.” It snarled.

“It’s not about any wavering loyalty.”

It’s a big hard to talk, with Wiley’s nails digging into his skin hard enough it hurt.

“I don’t know why I am like that. I shouldn’t be. Only people I care for are myself and my Wilbur. And now you. The Lords are a given.”

He shrugs, seeming almost defeated, his eye stuck staring at Wiley. He knows he isn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing should matter but the Lords.

But he always was one to follow a higher decree.

“You shouldn’t care for anything except The Lords. Not me. Not Wilbur. Nothing else. Allowing such a thing outside of who your devoted for is giving way to weakness. To being soft. To being human.” It snarled at him once more, teeth showing off and glinting despite any specific lighting source. “You need to remember you aren’t human. Wiggog Himself has made you more. Separated your existence to those pathetic creatures and has changed you. Do not act like those whiny creatures.”

It yanked John’s face closer, so they both were mere inches apart. “Maybe there’s a reason for only one Johnny being around.” It whispered, before pushing his head away and letting go at the same time.

He mumbles and rubs at his face. He’s sure Wiley’s nails left marks in his cheeks. Not that it matters.

“Forgive me though for caring about you. And the man who is a big part of who I am. It doesn’t make me too human.”

He looks defeated, the tentacles he’s been hiding wrapping around himself, under the denim jacket he refused to take off still.

“I can do my job well. Despite it. In spite of it. You haven’t seen me work.”

It adjusted its shirt briefly, before side-eyeing John. “No, you care about a version of me. You’ve only just met me, John.” It answered, face returning to neutrality. “I do love you. Or, my John. Who I would kill when The Lords will eventually demand it. Even if he currently lives because of a deal we have, and I don’t swindle or cheat my way out of a deal. But that doesn’t get in the way of my work and life. It doesn’t get in the way of The Lords.”

He looks hurt and defeated all at once, too obvious with his emotions. He never really learned how to rein them in, even under the Lords. Which…wasn’t too great.

He wanted to get rid of that fact, wanting to be perfect. For Wiley and the Lords. Prove he’s like Wiley, not a pathetic human. Hell he wasn’t even human anymore.

“If it matters I had to face a version of you in my first timeline outside of my own. It didn’t go too well, but I did what I had to do. Did what was ordered.”

Wiley stepped back in close, a hand going to rest lightly on John’s chest. Not grabbing, not pushing away.. Just resting there.

His eyes drop to his chest, to Wiley’s hand. He reaches for it without thinking, holding it in place. He almost swears his heart speeds up. He can’t really remember if he actually has a heartbeat or not.

“It wasn’t all that gorey. And I don’t remember it all either. I got thrown into a random timeline under orders to eliminate as much of PEIP as I could. Starting with Wil. Apparently I didn’t exist there…or something, which made it easier? I don’t know. Still had the military uniform and the gun. Still got the gun now really…”

He’s rambling, trying to get his words straight, claws tapping on the back of Wiley’s hand.

“I could’ve been worse to him. More than gunshots in the head and heart, like PEIP once ordered far back. It was weird to watch. I wasn’t thinking until it was done, and I saw him die. Couldn’t do anything, didn’t do anything. Just watched the light go.”

It was so early then, he still recalled all the PEIP training. And at least that Wilbur’s death was quick. Better than anything he could’ve done. Damn Wilbur being too important to him.

It didn't even listen, glancing down at its hand. The slight clink of those odd claws against it. A bizarre but oddly nice sensation. Only catching a few sentences or words from John's rambling. Eventually, its head raised to meet John's gaze once more.

“He didn’t do anything? No fighting back against you, no pleading for his life?” It wouldn’t expect a man like that to plead, of course. It expected better of him, even if he’d die. “Didn’t do some sappy shit and say I love you before you shot?”

Its free hand moved to John's chin, bringing it up gently to meet its eyes.

He looks up at Wiley’s his face was held, his hand still holding Wiley’s other one.

“He begged and pleaded, said this wasn’t like me. Said he’d do anything. But…had to follow orders.”

Even if Wiley didn’t fully believe him.

John didn’t let go of Wiley’s hand either, holding it tight.

Its nails now pressed against John’s chest, digging in through the fabric. Its eyes narrowed. “I fully think you’re weak, because you still have connections from your old life and haven’t let that go. Your life is The Lords now. Leave Wilbur in the past. Care only for the beings you devote your new existence to.”

“It’s not my fault. You can’t tell me you’re still not connected to your version of me. Disciple work or not, we both know what we’ve been to each other. It’s not so easy to let him go like that.”

As much as he’d want to, he can’t. Wilbur’s been incredibly important to his life for nearly all of it. He can’t just…abandon that.

“I am not connected to him. You make it sound like I’m still in a relationship with him. I am not. I am not Wilbur anymore. I am not the man he fell in love with and trained with, before stepping into the portal. I am not the man who whispered sweet words to him over a shared cigarette. I am not the man who saved his life multiple times, and him to me in return. Not anymore.” It snarled, nails going to rake down slowly until its hand was wrapped around John’s neck. Tightly holding it, but not squeezing.

“I am not Wilbur, and I will never return to being that man. I am Wiley, Wiggog’s disciple and aid to The Lords. I may have been Wilbur before my full devotion, but he is dead. Even if we were the same person. It’s always easier to consider him a seperate entity now. I have embraced my new life and left my old one behind.”

“I know you’re not the same man. Neither of us are the same we were. I really only have the holdup when it comes to Wil. Devotion to our Lords is there and has been since Wiggly saved me from dematerializing. Maybe I just need something to snap me out of that ‘weakness’ you think I have.”

He never saw his care for Wilbur as weak. It was just a fact of his life, caring about the man who made him into who he was for so much of his life. The care rarely ever stopped him from his work and orders anyway.

He reached for the hand on his throat, grabbing it but not trying to move it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just rip its hand off him.

The muscles in its arm flexed once it’s grabbed, finding it odd that it’s not immediately moved or taken away.

Damn him having a heart.

“PEIP deserves to be destroyed. We both know it. They’re horrid, and they go against us and our Lords.”

John still doesn’t more Wiley’s hand. His hand is just resting on its hand, claws just slightly digging in.

There’s a prickling of where John’s claws are digging just slightly into its hand. It doesn’t hurt. Rather, it’s grounding. It still wasn’t entirely convinced, but John’s getting on the right track.

“How I do it? Oh, just don’t think about the feelings that arise. It’s easy. But, you’ve always been the more emotional one. Always caught up in details.”

He didn’t fully mind it, it was way more grounding than it should’ve been, only freaking him out for a moment earlier. Plus it’s not like he really needs to breathe so much anyway.

“I see. I’ll…do that. That doesn’t seem too tough.”

Which, felt like its point was proven.

“Oh, you aren’t doing it.” The hand against his throat suddenly tightened and squeezed. “Because I wouldn’t be able to do this, otherwise.” Again, the hand tightened further. Nails dug into the man’s flesh. It knew it couldn’t kill John, not permanently. The Black Blade could only permanently kill Wiley, so it’s assuming the same for John. But, was it correct about that? Who knows.

And frankly, he didn’t care about the hand on his throat until now. He didn’t necessarily need to breathe so his airway being compromised didn’t matter, but it still hurt. Wiley was strong, way stronger than John, even.

“Flirting then…this. Why?”

It’s easy to tell who he was before, at least. A certain solider by the name of John MacNamara.

“You aren’t him. Who are you?”

[ @previously-missing-in-action /nf ! ]

John froze for just a moment. He didn’t know how to react, only looking over with his one remaining eye.

He eventually relaxes, expression chsngign to one of confusion.

“You aren’t supposed to reside in a place like this.”

Its other hand moved to the man’s chin, gripping it and having a look over the man’s face. Its eyes narrowed.

He winces when his face was grabbed, his eye narrowing as he glares straight back.

He’s well aware of what he looks like, and how different he has to be from who he was before the portal, from any other version of himself.

Finally, the hand moved off John’s shoulder. Only to go up and dangerously poke near the eye instead. “You look different, I’ll give you that.” It mumbled, hand now moving to roam over John’s cheek. Pinching at it. It knew about other worlds. Other Johns. It’s seen plenty, of course. But.. Never something so different.

A mirror to Wiley, after all.

He wasn’t a biggest fan of the touch, it was so different. Not exactly a bad kind of different, just weird.

“I take you like that I’m different? That one version of me finally joined you and our Lords instead of fighting a fight that he’d never win…?”

He feels a sense of pride when he’s complimented and called adorable. And being called the first of his kind.

“Oh, and an outfit change. Get something more.. Well, better. Less that, more professional for people like us.” It winked. And yet, despite finding the same fondness for John like it always had.. It just didn’t feel like John. “Sport some denim on that wonderful body of yours, maybe a touch of green. Glad you haven’t changed your hair, that’s always been my favourite part about you.”

He adjusted his outfit, things that once belonged to his own Wilbur paired with military attire, the supposed protective suit torn, barely even anything anymore.

“If you could get me anything new, I’d happily wear it. And no worries, I’m keeping my hair.”

He offers a smile, face flushing just barely at the praise.

“If it’s any help..” It began, gesturing at the single green eye it had, the iris slightly glimmering. “..I haven’t taken out my other eye and put the second green one in. I could find it for you, see if it’ll work in your ol’ socket. Might do you some good, being at your best. Besides, we’ll match.” It winked at him.

Slowly, Wiley slips the denim jacket off its shoulders. It offered the piece of clothing to John.

His face is close to red now, as much as his body really allows. He doesn’t know if it’s because of old memories or Wiley’s kindness or something else, but he genuinely likes the other.

He takes the denim jacket after shedding the destroyed “suit”, if it can even be called that, wrapping up in it. It fits wonderfully, and Wiley’s met with a fanged smile.

Wiley didn’t need to imagine what Wiggly had been like. It had experienced something similar, after all. Just.. More mild. Maybe it’ll consider itself a favourite. “Well, it’s good that He kept you alive. Be grateful for that. Some would be discarded and killed without even a glance at them.”

Once John put on the jacket, its hands moved out to adjust and feel at it. It stepped closer. “It certainly looks amazin’ on you, Johnny. Better than myself. Definitely keep it.” It pat at John’s chest momentarily. “Makes you look more frightenin’.”

It looked away, as a hand snaked around John’s waist. Pulling the man in closer. A grin danced along its lips.

He smiles softly, his eye staying on Wiley, letting it adjust the jacket on him. He holds it back, just for a moment, at least. It was nice, as was the jacket itself. Made him feel safer, too. Plus it looks nice.

It’s almost ideal, having a version of John that was on the right side. That he wasn’t snivelling away for PEIP and meddling in plans. But.. Even so, this still isn’t it’s John. The one Wiley valued, despite seeing him as a challenge. Even if it’s hard to tell who that was, when it’s seen a few of them before. And, could it trust this one? It should. But it couldn’t, not immediately.

He chuckles a bit as he was spun around, sticking close to Wiley.

“I should…probably skip the nastier parts. Though I’ll say dematerializing is..something. More painful than expected. And Wiggly can’t exactly get human limbs perfect.”

It’s easy to see at least on one of his arms, it looks…wrong. It looks like heavily scarred human flesh but also not at the same time. It functions perfect, at least.

“Being dragged around timelines sure is something too. Never thought I’d kill any innocent people, but I did. Wasn’t…as bad. Maybe because the Lords were there. Who knows”

Wiley’s unphased by the idea of nastier details. It’s pulled out its own eye to put in a green one. It’s seen horrible things, before the portal and after devoting itself. “I’ve watched one of you dematerialise before. Not you, of course. But another.” It can remember such a thing clearly, the stare he was given. “I didn’t think you’d be dragged around to timelines, the way you act. You would’ve known to grab clothing off a certain someone. Maybe even had some particular fights to lock in a timeline’s fate.” And yet, it merely shrugged. Unbothered in its own words.

A hand moved to drag down, fingers trailing over the scarred not-quite human flesh. From afar, it might. But, looking closer, it’s hard to miss the details that are simply off.

“You’re soft. Too soft. Too human, still.”

He shows Wiley his nails, truly looking more like claws. They’re stained with blood.

“I got thrown around at first. To separate me from who I was, from my home timeline and who I had, from the old values. It…partially worked. Wiggly wasn’t too happy with me early on.”

Even with everything, a lot of his old self remained. He hated it. He wasn’t who he was back then.

“I know they’re not. I was just saying…back in the day, they would’ve been. I know what I have to do. But sometimes killing isn’t easy.”

Nor is facing a version of Wiley that looks at him with pure hate and disgust, on order.

But he did what he had to.

“I hate it. Being like I used to. I shouldn’t be.”

“But sometimes killing isn’t easy?” It echoed after John, scoffing. “Of course it would be, if you cared about that. But you don’t. You shouldn’t.” It insisted, hand suddenly snaking up and moving to grab the man’s chin. Wiley’s nails digging into his skin. “You need to get that fixed. Because if there’s any sort of doubt, any sort of wavering loyalty? There will be no hesitation for Him to rid of you.” It snarled.

“It’s not about any wavering loyalty.”

It’s a big hard to talk, with Wiley’s nails digging into his skin hard enough it hurt.

“I don’t know why I am like that. I shouldn’t be. Only people I care for are myself and my Wilbur. And now you. The Lords are a given.”

He shrugs, seeming almost defeated, his eye stuck staring at Wiley. He knows he isn’t supposed to be like this. Nothing should matter but the Lords.

But he always was one to follow a higher decree.

“You shouldn’t care for anything except The Lords. Not me. Not Wilbur. Nothing else. Allowing such a thing outside of who your devoted for is giving way to weakness. To being soft. To being human.” It snarled at him once more, teeth showing off and glinting despite any specific lighting source. “You need to remember you aren’t human. Wiggog Himself has made you more. Separated your existence to those pathetic creatures and has changed you. Do not act like those whiny creatures.”

It yanked John’s face closer, so they both were mere inches apart. “Maybe there’s a reason for only one Johnny being around.” It whispered, before pushing his head away and letting go at the same time.

He mumbles and rubs at his face. He’s sure Wiley’s nails left marks in his cheeks. Not that it matters.

“Forgive me though for caring about you. And the man who is a big part of who I am. It doesn’t make me too human.”

He looks defeated, the tentacles he’s been hiding wrapping around himself, under the denim jacket he refused to take off still.

“I can do my job well. Despite it. In spite of it. You haven’t seen me work.”

It adjusted its shirt briefly, before side-eyeing John. “No, you care about a version of me. You’ve only just met me, John.” It answered, face returning to neutrality. “I do love you. Or, my John. Who I would kill when The Lords will eventually demand it. Even if he currently lives because of a deal we have, and I don’t swindle or cheat my way out of a deal. But that doesn’t get in the way of my work and life. It doesn’t get in the way of The Lords.”

He looks hurt and defeated all at once, too obvious with his emotions. He never really learned how to rein them in, even under the Lords. Which…wasn’t too great.

He wanted to get rid of that fact, wanting to be perfect. For Wiley and the Lords. Prove he’s like Wiley, not a pathetic human. Hell he wasn’t even human anymore.

“If it matters I had to face a version of you in my first timeline outside of my own. It didn’t go too well, but I did what I had to do. Did what was ordered.”

Wiley stepped back in close, a hand going to rest lightly on John’s chest. Not grabbing, not pushing away.. Just resting there.

His eyes drop to his chest, to Wiley’s hand. He reaches for it without thinking, holding it in place. He almost swears his heart speeds up. He can’t really remember if he actually has a heartbeat or not.

“It wasn’t all that gorey. And I don’t remember it all either. I got thrown into a random timeline under orders to eliminate as much of PEIP as I could. Starting with Wil. Apparently I didn’t exist there…or something, which made it easier? I don’t know. Still had the military uniform and the gun. Still got the gun now really…”

He’s rambling, trying to get his words straight, claws tapping on the back of Wiley’s hand.

“I could’ve been worse to him. More than gunshots in the head and heart, like PEIP once ordered far back. It was weird to watch. I wasn’t thinking until it was done, and I saw him die. Couldn’t do anything, didn’t do anything. Just watched the light go.”

It was so early then, he still recalled all the PEIP training. And at least that Wilbur’s death was quick. Better than anything he could’ve done. Damn Wilbur being too important to him.

It didn't even listen, glancing down at its hand. The slight clink of those odd claws against it. A bizarre but oddly nice sensation. Only catching a few sentences or words from John's rambling. Eventually, its head raised to meet John's gaze once more.

“He didn’t do anything? No fighting back against you, no pleading for his life?” It wouldn’t expect a man like that to plead, of course. It expected better of him, even if he’d die. “Didn’t do some sappy shit and say I love you before you shot?”

Its free hand moved to John's chin, bringing it up gently to meet its eyes.

He looks up at Wiley’s his face was held, his hand still holding Wiley’s other one.

“He begged and pleaded, said this wasn’t like me. Said he’d do anything. But…had to follow orders.”

Even if Wiley didn’t fully believe him.

John didn’t let go of Wiley’s hand either, holding it tight.

Its nails now pressed against John’s chest, digging in through the fabric. Its eyes narrowed. “I fully think you’re weak, because you still have connections from your old life and haven’t let that go. Your life is The Lords now. Leave Wilbur in the past. Care only for the beings you devote your new existence to.”

“It’s not my fault. You can’t tell me you’re still not connected to your version of me. Disciple work or not, we both know what we’ve been to each other. It’s not so easy to let him go like that.”

As much as he’d want to, he can’t. Wilbur’s been incredibly important to his life for nearly all of it. He can’t just…abandon that.

“I am not connected to him. You make it sound like I’m still in a relationship with him. I am not. I am not Wilbur anymore. I am not the man he fell in love with and trained with, before stepping into the portal. I am not the man who whispered sweet words to him over a shared cigarette. I am not the man who saved his life multiple times, and him to me in return. Not anymore.” It snarled, nails going to rake down slowly until its hand was wrapped around John’s neck. Tightly holding it, but not squeezing.

“I am not Wilbur, and I will never return to being that man. I am Wiley, Wiggog’s disciple and aid to The Lords. I may have been Wilbur before my full devotion, but he is dead. Even if we were the same person. It’s always easier to consider him a seperate entity now. I have embraced my new life and left my old one behind.”

“I know you’re not the same man. Neither of us are the same we were. I really only have the holdup when it comes to Wil. Devotion to our Lords is there and has been since Wiggly saved me from dematerializing. Maybe I just need something to snap me out of that ‘weakness’ you think I have.”

He never saw his care for Wilbur as weak. It was just a fact of his life, caring about the man who made him into who he was for so much of his life. The care rarely ever stopped him from his work and orders anyway.

He reached for the hand on his throat, grabbing it but not trying to move it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just rip its hand off him.

The muscles in its arm flexed once it’s grabbed, finding it odd that it’s not immediately moved or taken away.

Damn him having a heart.

“PEIP deserves to be destroyed. We both know it. They’re horrid, and they go against us and our Lords.”

John still doesn’t more Wiley’s hand. His hand is just resting on its hand, claws just slightly digging in.

There’s a prickling of where John’s claws are digging just slightly into its hand. It doesn’t hurt. Rather, it’s grounding. It still wasn’t entirely convinced, but John’s getting on the right track.

“How I do it? Oh, just don’t think about the feelings that arise. It’s easy. But, you’ve always been the more emotional one. Always caught up in details.”

He didn’t fully mind it, it was way more grounding than it should’ve been, only freaking him out for a moment earlier. Plus it’s not like he really needs to breathe so much anyway.

“I see. I’ll…do that. That doesn’t seem too tough.”

It’s easy to tell who he was before, at least. A certain solider by the name of John MacNamara.

[Wilbur is out and about, looking for a new job that is enjoyable enough but had nothing to do with the military. Being in PEIP was already stressful enough before the incident, and he's certain he won't be welcome if he did come back.

...that's my jacket.

John shrugs, smiling.

He looks a bit uncomfortable at the concept of being called normal, certainly he isn’t and hasn’t been for so long. He messes with his jacket again to keep his hands busy, not looking in Wilbur’s eyes.

[Holloway sighs, turning to face the man.]