Chapter Text
For the past two months that you’ve been dating Arthur, the two of you have created a ritual of sorts. If any of Arthur’s clown gigs were located near the bar where you worked, he would meet you at the corner of the block and the you would ride the subway home together. It was a nice way for you to spend more time with Arthur, and today is one of those days.
Arthur is performing at the hospital today, just down the street from your job. Making your way to the corner of the block, you wait for Arthur to arrive, checking your watch impatiently. Normally he would be standing at this spot before you even exit the bar, but today you are the first to arrive at your designated meeting place.
Panic rises within your chest, but before you let it overwhelm you, a bright green wig in the distance catches your eyes. Your face lights up upon seeing the familiar clown dragging his feet as he walks towards you.
Your eyes skim over him, taking in his sulking demeanor. His shoulders are drawn in towards his body, his head is cast down to the ground, and each step he takes towards you looks like it’s draining the energy from his body. Frowning, you meet him halfway and try to bring your hands up to his shoulders.
“Arthur, what’s wrong? What happened?”
He rejects your touch, shrugging your hands off his shoulders while brushing past you. He keeps walking slowly towards the subway entrance, not even waiting to see if you are following.
Struggling not to let his rejection offend you too much, you call out for him again, but he keeps walking. You rush to catch up with him and decide not to hound him for answers since he is very clearly upset. However, you can’t stop the racing thoughts that are swirling in your head, wondering what happened to make him act this way.
The silence that falls between the two of you as you wait for the train to arrive is loud and makes you feel anxious. Arthur avoids your probing gaze, continuing to keep his eyes cast downward and not allowing his body to touch yours as you stand beside him. You can physically see how he is closing himself off from you, wallowing in his own depression.
Attempting to keep the hurt from being evident in your voice, you whisper “Arthur, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
He ignores your statement, but you can see tears forming in his sad green eyes. Looking away from him, you decide that the only thing you can do now is wait for him to talk to you about what is bothering him.
The train arrives and you wordlessly allow Arthur to enter before you. He sits down first, legs bouncing slightly and hands clutching his work bag in a tight grasp. You hesitantly take a seat on his right, trying to scoot a bit closer to him like you always do when you ride the subway together.
Before you make contact, Arthur harshly places his bag in between the two of you, demanding space between your bodies. Now you’re getting a bit angry at his somewhat childish behavior. Huffing out a soft breath, you slide to the other end of the bench and cross your arms as the train lurches forward to its next destination.
You understand why Arthur is closing himself off if he had a bad day, but deep down you hatewhen he gets like this. You want him to be able to trust you with his feelings, not push you away when things get tough.
As the train continues its journey, your eyes dart around, looking at everything but the melancholy man beside you. There are two women and a man in this section of the train. The man and the woman sitting on the opposite side of you leave at the next stop, the woman gives you an awkward smile, possibly noticing the tension between you and Arthur.
Three obnoxiously loud men enter where the other woman is sitting. Rolling your eyes at their loud voices, you look over to see them joking around with each other. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Arthur also looking over at the commotion.
You grimace as one of the men lewdly offers the woman some french fries. Watching as his buddy joins in on the teasing, your blood boils. You barely recognize your own angry voice yelling at the men when the first one throws a french fry at the woman. “Hey, leave her alone, assholes!”
Arthur lets out a small chuckle as the four people on the other end look over at the two of you. You feel the blood draining from your face as you recognize the telltale first sign of an oncoming fit of laughter from Arthur.
Trying hard to ignore the soft chuckles coming from him, you work up the courage to continue to stand up for the woman. “She said she doesn’t want any fries, so please just leave her alone.” Your voice wavers as Arthur’s laughter drowns out the last part of your sentence.
The men and the woman are now staring quizzically at Arthur’s bizarre laughter. In moments like this, you normally bring him close to you and help him muffle the sounds, but you’re still on edge from his previously distant behavior.
“Is something funny, asshole?” You look up at the source of the rude question, your body tensing with anger at these three men.
The woman quickly leaves her seat, upsetting the men who were harassing her. Arthur’s laughter grows louder and you can tell that he is struggling to breathe. You think about moving closer to him so that you can comfort him, but you halt in your movements as one of the men starts singing.
You hold your breath, the hair on the back of your neck rising and goosebumps forming along your arms; alarms go off in your head as you can feel the eerie tension within the train.
You know your fight or flight should kick in now as the man continues his creepy song while approaching the two of you, but your body chooses to freeze instead.
Your heart is pounding, blood rushing in your ears; all you can hear are the sharp laughs coming from Arthur, the dreadful singing from the man, and the trains from the opposite track zooming by.
It’s a sensory overload and you are glued to your spot as Arthur becomes these men’s next prey. The man with the french fries sits next to Arthur while the one who is singing stops in front of him. The third man takes a seat next to you, moving in close and giving you a look that disgusts you.
Your breathing speeds up out of fear and anxiety as the man next to Arthur pulls his wig off and mocks his laughter. You plead for the men to leave him alone in a soft whisper, but your pleading is ignored as the man in front of Arthur asks him what’s so funny.
“Nothing I–” you wince as Arthur struggles to explain that he has a condition. Your brain tells you to speak up for him, but your lips can’t form the words before the man in front of you grabs the plaid bag from Arthur’s reach before he can get his card.
Arthur gets up and reaches for the bag, the man sitting next to him jolts up beside him and grabs his arms. The man who grabbed the bag elbows Arthur in the ribs. Your body finally wakes up and you jump up to protect Arthur.
The third man beside you pulls you away. He twists your arms behind your back.
Arthur’s bag is thrown carelessly to the side by the taller man.
With his arms pinned down by the man behind him, Arthur kicks his legs out at his attackers.
“We got a kicker, huh?” The tall man commands the guy behind Arthur to hold him steady.
You watch in horror as he lands a hard punch right on Arthur’s face.
Arthur is knocked to the ground with the force.
“Stay down, freak!”
You struggle against the man holding you back, screaming out for them to stop. Somehow you escape his grasp and rush to the two men standing in front of Arthur.
You get jostled around for a bit as they try to push you aside, and the movement of the subway makes you lose your footing.
The shorter man in the dark suit grabs you in a similar way he did with Arthur before you could get in the way of the other two men who are now kicking Arthur as they laugh.
“Stop! Stop it, why are you doing this?!” Your voice gets lost among all the noise in the train.
The loud bang of a gun erupts through the subway car. The taller man falls back as his blood splatters against the wall.
You recoil at the sound, eyes widening as you see it was Arthur who fired the gun.
The man holding you back screams in terror.
Two more sharp gunshots ring in the air as Arthur kills the second man.
Screaming and pulling you with him, the remaining guy tries to use you as a shield while he escapes to the other side of the subway car.
Like a deer caught in the headlights, you freeze in the man’s grasp.
Arthur fumbles as he rises from the ground, panting hard and aiming his gun to shoot the man, but he stops when he realizes that you’re in his line of sight.
The man holding you in front of him is whimpering in fear, and he roughly shoves you to the side as he turns around to open the doors leading to the next subway car.
You fall to the ground from the force, a sharp sound of pain leaving your mouth as your head hits one of the subway poles on your way down.
With scary precision, Arthur shoots the man in his leg once you’re out of his way.
Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you scramble against the floor, prepared to run after the man.
Arthur fumbles with the gun before rushing over to your crumpled body and helping you off the ground.
His eyes search your face, turning a darker shade of green upon seeing a trickle of blood drip down your head from where you hit the pole.
“I’m fine,” you brush him off. Your breathing is heavy and your eyes dart to the place where the man hastily left. You can hear him screaming for help from the next subway car.
The subway screeches loudly as it approaches its next stop. The voice on the intercom announces the stop– 9th avenue.
All you feel now is rage as you breathily whisper to Arthur, “Go get that motherfucker.”
Arthur grabs his wig and bag, approaching the doors of the train.
You wait beside him, hearing the man bang on the doors while continuing to scream.
The doors slide open quickly, and Arthur bounds out of them, holding his gun out in his left hand. You are about to follow, but he jumps back into the train.
Peeping his head out of the doors, waiting for his target to emerge, you hold your breath as you hear the voice on the intercom state to stand clear of the closing doors.
The doors start to close as Arthur pounces out of the subway. You’re right behind him, shoving your way through the doors as they squeeze your shoulders.
You watch the man limp away with Arthur right on his tail. A strange feeling builds deep in your stomach as you see Arthur slowly stalk his prey, arm outstretched with the gun held tight in his hand.
Without thinking, you follow as Arthur speeds up and the train zooms past you.
You don’t know why, but seeing Arthur like this isn’t scaring you like it should be. In reality, you’re in awe of how he marches towards the man, shoulders tensed as he shoots him with deadlyaccuracy.
The gunshot reverberates through the platform and the man falls to the ground with a loud cry.
Breathing heavily from the adrenaline and some other feeling you can’t explain, you continue to follow Arthur’s long strides, staying a few steps behind him.
The man cries out twice as he crawls towards the stairs leading up to the subway station. Arthur stops in front of him, steadying the gun in his hand.
You gasp softly as three more bullets are fired into the man and you hear two clicks from the empty barrel after the third gunshot rings in your ears.
The air is thick with silence as the man stops crying out in pain. The only things you can hear now are Arthur’s heavy breathing mixed with the sound of your heart beating rapidly.
Arthur puts the gun away with a sigh and turns to your frozen body standing behind him.
He looks at you for a moment before closing his eyes and reaching up to touch the side of his head.
Watching the blood pool around the man’s body, you realize you’ve both been standing here for a second too long.
“Arthur.” He looks lost in thought as he stares at the ground. “Arthur, we need to leave… now!”
He looks around, turning his body around in a circle until his eyes land on you.
Locking eyes with him, you whisper “Run.”