"Arthur?"

The voice went out of his mouth in an unbelieving tone. His eyes widen with surprise or fear, hard to tell which. John couldn't believe that, after all this years, Arthur was back. Standing in front of him. But not as John would like. Arthur was fading, glowing in an eerie presence. It sent shivers down John's spine. He lost the force to stand up and knelt in the ground, mouth open to the sight of the one he assumed dead. His heart almost jumping through his throat. A deep, echoing voice could be heard:

"Marston? Can you see me?"

Arthur seemed as surprised as John. The older were sitting on a rock near the camp John made somewhere in New Austin. John tried to answer, but he couldn't form words. Just stuttering sounds were leaving his mouth, as he shook his head incredulously. Arthur continued in a happy voice, standing up:

"No way... I've been tryin' for years!" He breathed deeply trying to control his… heartbeat? He didn't tried to understand it anymore, but he still could feel human emotions and physical sensations, even as a ghost. He gestured as he continued his sentence: "I've been with ya all this time, John. I saw everything you did. And I have to say…" Arthur pointed an accusatory finger. "You're a fool."

John found himself smiling. Laughing, even. Arthur's last word worked as the proof he needed to believe in what the hell were happening. It was really Arthur there. And he couldn't be happier.

"I'm not joking, Marston. What were you thinking when you went out to hunt Micah? I told you to be with your family, not to go for a goddamn revenge." Arthur put his hands on his hips, a disappointed expression on his face. John tried to justify himself as he stood up again.

"B-but it ended up alright. Micah is dead, Dutch is gone, everyone else is okay. I'm okay, Arthur."

John wore a pity-worthy expression. Purposely, maybe. Arthur showed a slight smile in the corner of his mouth, answering:

"I know… I know."

John's heart felt tight. He raised his voice, clenching his fists:

"Don't say that!" Then he relaxed and looked away. "It was the last thing you said to me."

Arthur's smile widened.

"Oh. You still remember it."

"How wouldn't I? You fuckin' died because of me." His eyes were sad. John sat up on the rock Arthur was before, closer to him. He buried his face on his hands, trying to suppress tears he knew were coming, and sighed deeply. He never told anyone, but what he felt for Arthur was something else, different from strong friendship. He tried to make those feelings go away through all his life, but he ended up doing exactly what Arthur told. He fled with his family, tried to live a normal life with them, mostly because Arthur told him rather than by his own will. Every day he thought about Arthur and what he meant to him. He tried his best to be strong and let it go, overcome this situation. It was just when he thought he overcome Arthur's death, revenging him, getting enough money to support his family for a long time and marrying Abigail - it was then he appeared.

Crushing his heart with happiness. And fear. It was Arthur, but he was a ghost. John didn't know how to feel about that detail. He wasn't deeply depressive at the loss to be imagining things. He was overcoming it. He could only believe it was Arthur, truly, right there. Standing at his side.

Arthur crouched to look John in the eyes, aware of the younger's emotions.

"Hey, hey.. It's okay. I'm glad you're okay. You did good with Abigail and Jack. I'm proud of you, actually." He said with a soothing voice, even if it was echoing and strange. John took his hands off his face and looked back at Arthur's now milky, but still bluish eyes. He replied, afraid, but sincere:

"No... That's not it, Arthur. You don't understand, that's not what I wanted." Arthur made a confused face, his head dropping to one side. Before he could speak something, John explained nervously between sighs, looking away again:

"I… I wanted t-to.. to be with… you. I mean, I love Abigail in a way, and of course I love Jack, but… That's not what I truly wanted." John snorted a laugh quickly before continuing. "I would be so much happier if we were four living together." He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. His elbows resting on his thighs, fingers interlaced while he played with his thumbs. It was the first time he confessed his feelings for men. Actually, John felt attracted to many women, but Arthur was the only person he truly loved and wanted the most. He grew up with the man, admiring, wanting to be like him. He couldn't help, no matter how much he tried to make these feelings go away, it won't fade. He never had the opportunity (nor the guts) to confess to Arthur when the man was alive, but now he didn't resist the urge to do it.

John suddenly felt panicked. Arthur barely showed himself and John was risking this moment, when he could have not talked about his feelings and could be sure Arthur will be with him for a long time. Instead, he confessed right away, risking rejection and Arthur could be gone forever, after burning hope on him. John swallowed dry to the realization.

But Arthur didn't reject him, nor played with him or anything. Their feelings were mutual, but John didn't know.

"Look at me…" Arthur asked under his breath. John hesitated a second, but did it.

Arthur tried his best to focus on keeping his presence. It was hard. This was still a strange feeling, like a new sense, something just like touch or hearing. He took more than five years to finally be able to appear in the material world, something that happened just a few minutes ago. He leaned forward, closer to John, who immediately understand his intentions. John opened his mouth a little as to show he wanted it. They both could feel each other's breath (not even thinking about the possibility of understand why a ghost could do that), almost touching. Savouring this very moment of expectation. Then Arthur finally leaned a bit more to seal the kiss, wanting it. Needing it.

Arthur were invading John's mouth.

As he was invading his head. And at the same time not invading anything.

He just passed through John as if he was nothing.