#whereas before he'd felt very isolated and very uniquely miserable bc he'd simply. never experienced anyone else's pain but his own

[talentforlying]

10.     believe negatively shaped them into the person they are today.

10.     believe negatively shaped them into the person they are today.

chas chandler only ever wanted a simple life. john knew that about him less than five minutes into meeting him; could see the weariness weighing him down like a monkey on his back. sometimes he thinks it's why they became friends as fast as they did: that shared craving for the things they could never have. like freedom. like loving parents.

it made killing his mum for him a whole lot easier than it might've been otherwise.

second one for the list, right? he could've put it on business cards before he ever turned eighteen: witch slayer. mother killer. he tells himself there wasn't any other choice, and most days he even believes it; after all, facts are facts, and queenie was never going to let chas wriggle free, not when he was scared shitless of her and easy to boss around. john still remembers the night in that dingy kitchen when chas spilled his guts for the first time, every word pickled in despair, his face like he was halfway to being a ghost already. the first time he'd really wanted to give someone else a hug, though chas would have belted him if he'd tried. the first time something buzzed slick and bitter down the back of his tongue like murder and he decided to actually do something about it.

see, john had figured out years ago that the only person who was going to save him was himself, but that's 'cos his father didn't have magic powers — he was just a withered old shit with nothing better to do than work the knife in a little deeper every day, hoping his son would eventually crumble and do the job he didn't have the strength for. chas's mum, though, was fucking evil. you didn't save yourself from something as vast and untouchable as evil: you ducked down low in a corner and prayed that it passed you by.

but you could probably save someone else from it, if you were on the outside looking in. you could probably look at evil with a bit of clinical detachment when you knew it didn't really care about you, when you'd already been born bad and it saw something in you that made it primp and preen like it was looking in a mirror, instead of wanting to crush your balls just to see you squirm. queenie never liked him, but she knew he wasn't a MARK; there was nothing innocent in him for her and her sadistic fucking familiar to squeeze dry.

chas, though. chas had always been a good soul. not a fucking SAINT, mind — it was just that the same way john was born bad to good people, chas came from some divine provenance that slipped its grip and dropped him square in the center of hell instead of whatever average, boring, blessed crib he was meant to land in instead. or maybe god just thought it'd be funny to chuck an honest soul in the crucible fresh out the gate, and see what would come out the other side. either way, chas wasn't built to survive his mum, and she'd tweaked the design to make damn sure he couldn't even try.

so, saving a friend. that was the game. the first real game he ever played with magic, without needing to know a single fucking spell to do it. the first time he realized that he could do something good with something awful.

and winning, drowning queenie's familiar in the river with his bare hands, knowing it would kill her without him ever having to look in her fearful human eyes — taking life into his own hands, no matter if it was his or someone else's, as long as it felt the same amount of righteous — that was the first real fix.

being honest with himself, newcastle was inevitable from that first night in the kitchen, when chas put his head in his hands and looked ready to roll over and die. because john had always been a survivor, no matter the cost of living, and always figured that was the best way to be; figured if evil didn't mind him skimming a bit off the top, then maybe he could pay a few other people's ways, too.

it just took him too fucking long to ask what would happen to them if he ever failed to pay the tab.

@nightmarecountry / A MOMENT IN TIME PROMPTS