John was helpless. All he could do was watch his wife and son cry over the empty shell of his former body. His fist shook as he clenched it. Then, a warm grip on his shoulder caused him to turn. "Would've hoped not to see your ugly mug for a bit longer." Arthur said, familiar green eyes alight with a twinkle that had been absent since long before he died.
His eyes turned soft as they slid past John to the scene of the boy and his mother. "But you done right by them. Yah gave your all. An I'm, I'm proud of you John." The last bit was whispered, choked out by solum honesty. Watery eyes met watery eyes and John realized Arthur had been there all along, or at least long enough to witness his murder.