A/N: This is stupid.
Written for alfronaut's joke prompt about that Anti the Holic video that's been inspiring some pretty badass art but makes no sense.
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Skeleton You're My Best Friend
("Skeleton Song" - Kate Nash)
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Alfred knew something was wrong when he saw Arthur talking to himself.
No, that wasn't right.
Arthur talked to himself all the time. On the best of circumstances the constant muttering gave Alfred the creeps, but this had been different. Arthur was usually working out problems, thinking of alchemy, irritated as though his own magic was conspiring to be difficult. Arthur had chosen a difficult vocation. Alfred respected him for that.
The muttering was different this time.
Alfred had never noticed before but Arthur kept a skeleton in his workroom. The skeleton made sense; Arthur constantly had to reference human anatomy depending on his work and while he couldn't keep preserved ligaments and organs hanging on display, the skeleton was certainly a helpful reference.
Alfred had come to show Arthur some information about their next job when he saw it.
Arthur, smiling. Chattering away about teatime and how he needed to tend the garden and other silly things. The skeleton had been moved to sit next to Arthur's workbench. The workspace was covered with cylinders and bunsen burners and mostly sketches of alchemic circles and sometimes a scrap of paper with a frustrated doodle.
Alfred watched as Arthur fell quiet, nodding and humming, as though someone was responding to the mundane parts of his life. Arthur laughed and gave the skeleton a pat on the back. Alfred shivered at the sound of a bony rattle-clink. Sometime in Alfred's gut told him right now was a bad time. The job could wait.
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They had met under the most common of circumstances.
Alfred did his grocery shopping every two weeks on Wednesday. Eventually he noticed Arthur, always there at the same time. Sometimes they exchanged a nod which said, "I don't know your name, but I recognize you. Hello". He hadn't thought much of it, until who he would learn was Arthur approached him with a scrap of paper, silently handed it over and scuttled away to a check outline.
We see each other enough I thought we should have coffee sometimes. I understand if this creeps you out. I won't bother you again.
-Arthur Kirkland
Alfred wasn't gay but he was intrigued. They had coffee. Then they went to a bar with a group of people. Then they had poker night.
And Alfred hid his secret from Arthur.
One night Arthur out-drank Alfred in Alfred's apartment and Alfred was a drunken giggly mess. Arthur was nearly as sloshed and they were being too loud and too rowdy when Alfred slammed his fist on his wooden coffee table sending a clean crack through the middle.
They stopped abruptly and stared at the crack, and Arthur's green eyes were wide and stunned.
Alfred sobered in expression, "I want to show you something."
They snuck into a junkyard and Alfred proceeded to lift a truck above his head.
"Oh." Arthur had said dumbly, staring at a rusted junker hovering over his friend's head, just high enough that Arthur could only see a truck against stars. The night was clear and suddenly Arthur's head was too, even though some part of him thought that the sex would have been euphoric, "Oh!" He had never been so excited.
Alfred watched, still holding his truck, as Arthur fell to the ground and started drawing. A circle with squiggles on the edges. It occurred to Alfred that they were very drunk.
When Arthur was finished and touched the circle with his fingertips, a bright display of luminescent butterflies flew from the ground and lit Alfred's face. Glowing in the night, coloring the dimly lit junkyard without a sound - lights in the darkness.
The next day over toast and coffee and both with their heads on Alfred's dining table, Alfred said absently, "We should help people." He lifted his head, "We could be superheroes!"
Tired and hungover, Arthur smiled, "Yes. We could."
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Their base was an abandoned parish church with the stained glass barely intact, the foundations questionable, but the kitchens still worked with some cleaning. Alfred didn't know how Arthur had found the place. The town the church was set in was also abandoned and probably belonged in a museum.
The point was there was no one for miles. Only one other person who knew their location.
Kiku Honda was a computer genius and able to set up an entire system in the church. "Why do we even need all this?" Arthur had groused as he watched Kiku install wires and electricity generators.
Alfred had grinned from his place in a corner, surrounded by wires sprawling across the floor like spider legs, "We can't just rely on the police for information. We're too weird. They'll get suspicious."
Arthur rolled his eyes, "Yes, it's much better when they realize they're being hacked."
Kiku had looked up from his corner, even-faced, but with a sharpness to his tone that expressed his insult, "You underestimate my skills, Arthur."
Arthur admitted later that tracking their targets was much easier with Kiku's computers. Kiku taught Alfred everything he was capable of understanding, and anything else they called Kiku to take over which Kiku did for the fun of it.
Alfred loved his computer. He felt like a genius surrounded by information and with the world at his fingertips. The holographic keyboards and screens creeped Arthur out because they seemed too intangible, lit Alfred's face too hauntingly given the darkness of the church because they didn't dare light the church too much at night. Alfred just laughed and said Arthur's magic-y voodoo stuff was weird too.
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Their targets were usually from local "most wanted" lists. They became well-known and notorious among small-timers. They were quiet enough that no one important interfered in their vigilante efforts. Alfred and Arthur became bounty hunters who didn't want the money - The government was fine with not paying money - Some attention for their strange powers was enough.
Alfred would spend days tracking people, information gathering. Arthur would make sense of the information and plan. Alfred's strength was their offense, Arthur's magic and cunning their defense.
It was enough.
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"Arthur, are you okay?"
Arthur looked up from his notes, eyes reflecting the light of a bunsen burner, gleaming in the darkness of the church, "Yes. Why?"
"I dunno," Alfred shrugged, fanning himself with a stack of papers. Summer was upon them and there was nearly no ventilation, "You've been acting weird."
Arthur frowned and took a moment to think. Alfred looked at the skeleton who had migrated even closer to Arthur's workplace, "I've been fine," Arthur said with a puzzled lilt, "There's nothing to worry about."
Alfred studied Arthur's face before grinning, "Except evildoers right?"
Arthur grinned right back, "Right."
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"One day I won't be so alone," Arthur said to his companion. He bustled around his workplace.
"It's hard finding the courage to come out of your shell just to be shot down. I've never been a personable guy," Arthur snorted, "Not that I've ever tried to be. I'm easy enough to get along with though, don't you think? I know I'm a bit prickly. Really, it was luck that Alfred wasn't completely turned off by me."
Arthur sighed heavily, "He wasn't turned on either, of course. No one ever is. A friend of mine said it wasn't because of looks, it's because of personality. I can't much help that."
He looked at his companion who stayed silent, comfortable in its chair. Arthur smiled and reached out to touch its skeletal fingers, delicate and white, "Ah, but you don't care do you? About personality," Arthur laughed lightly, "Sometimes I like to think I'm talking life into you. You'll become real and care for me. At least pity me, because no one else will listen. But you."
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Alfred shied away from the doorway, hurt mixed with something darker.
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"Tell me what you think of this!" Arthur said excitedly. He picked up one of his many books, brown and crumbling, filled with scrawl which very few could understand, "A spell in the form of a song! I had to figure out the melody but I've got it!"
He beamed at his companion, whose head was tilted with interest, "You won't mind if I sing it, do you? Of course not, I found it for you! But first you need to move."
Arthur carefully helped his companion move to an alchemic circle drawn on the stone floor, and settled him as comfortably as possible. Arthur stood, cleared his throat self-consciously, "Forgive me for my singing voice, I'm out of practice."
He gathered his book and began singing.
The melody was old, something from a Bible hymn. The alchemic circle began glow with the spell of Arthur's voice, haunting in his tenor. The circle's occupant began to shake and shiver and Arthur's song became more excited, darker. He danced around the circle, watching the skeleton shiver to life and raise itself surrounded by lights and sound and the buzz of magic.
Arthur reached out his hand to the standing skeleton and it offered its hand to him. He continued singing as he took its hand and danced, pulling it close and waltzed - haunting, haunting. A macabre waltz with death in his arms and joy in his eyes.
The moment he stopped singing the skeleton collapsed into a heap of bones at his feet.
Arthur kelt and cradled the skull in his lap.
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Alfred shook as we watched on a monitor of his computer. He threw an arm into a holographic screen, causing sparks to shake the image beyond recognition and Alfred was only aware of blue.
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"I want to try something." Arthur said to Alfred.
They were in a warehouse in the middle of a gang-related bust. Where the bullets had been flying was now silence as they tried to recollect themselves. The man they were after was too far away for Alfred's strength to matter. They needed Arthur to get them to the other side.
Alfred nodded, and watched as Arthur pulled out a stub of chalk and started drawing. Alfred watched curiously, then felt his stomach drop when Arthur reached out and grabbed the hand of a dead gang member and placed it in the circle.
"We're going to psych them out." Arthur whispered with glee, eyes gleaming and grin a little too wide.
He started singing.
Chills ran down Alfred's back he watched the body shudder and twitch. Arthur sang as he helped the body stand, revealing himself from behind the crates they were using as cover.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" Came from across the warehouse and the gunshots began again.
But Arthur kept walking with the body in front of him, doing a waltz and swooping down to bodies he walked past to quickly replicate the symbol. He had six bodies by the time he was on the other side - All acting as shields.
All mortifying and speckled with bullet wounds. The concrete ran with brains and guts. Arthur danced.
The gang gave up their single wanted member quickly enough.
"What did you think?" Arthur asked later, clearly pleased with himself.
Alfred shivered and hunched over his meal. He blamed the chill on the church, "Please don't do that again," He whispered.
Arthur didn't respond.
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Alfred stared at his hands, covered in white dust. The stone floor hurt his knees but he took the pain as penance.
He didn't know how long he knelt when he heard footsteps behind him, the pause, and, "Alfred, what's going on? Are you okay?"
Arthur rushed to his side, "Alfred?" He pulled away his hand when he noticed the white powder covering him.
"I'm sorry Arthur." Alfred said in a deadpan.
"What...?" Arthur blanched, and looked around wildly, "Where's...?"
Alfred didn't watch as Arthur frantically searched for his skeleton.
"Why did you do this!" Arthur's tears welled, "Are you insane!"
Alfred looked up, "...are you?" He countered without emotion.
"You can't- That was my-" Arthur stopped and breathed.
Alfred stood and walked away, "I'm sorry," He said again.
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Alfred left for three months. Dreams of dancing among the dead haunted him. Talking to the dead. Mutterings.
Falling back into his old routines wasn't difficult. He didn't see Arthur at the grocery store anymore. His co-workers noticed he was working more but that he seemed more rested.
One day on the news:
"There have been reports of a new villain in town who has been terrorizing small communities, it seems for the fun of it. There have been no reports of injuries or stolen goods, but what seems to be small armies of the risen dead. The Internet is calling this man the Zombie King..."
Alfred looked at the news. Grainy news footage showed a shuffling mass of dead, and in the middle of it all, a man dancing and touching the ground with circles of white.
Alfred breathed.