I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

Still not exactly sunshine and lollipops, no. But just give it a read.

And Baby Makes Four

Fancy Seeing You Here

Hot, it was so hot.

It was always hot in Jupiter, Florida.

But this was soupy, miserable, cesspool hot.

Here at the carnival.

At Miss Elsa's Cabinet of Curiosities.

He glided along, his bare feet seeming to not even touch the dry, dusty ground.

Passed under strings and strings of little white lights guiding him along the path to the big top.

Large canvas posters of his fellow freaks warmly surrounding him on every side.

His friends, his family.

He hadn't seen them in so long.

He wanted, needed, to see them now.

He just wasn't sure if he was ready.

He was vaguely aware that for the moment he was the only one in the vicinity.

Must be late. Elsa'll be pissed.

He tried to go faster.

But only continued to glide along in the same other worldly fashion.

And there it was.

The faded big top.

Its colors brighter now. More festive than he ever remembered them before.

Wow, we must be doing well.

But that didn't seem to be right, the 'we'.

He hadn't been part of the freak show in a long time, had he?

He had been, once upon a time.

Maybe not always happily.

But a solid, accepted part.

Then there had been destruction, devastation.

Sorrow, anger, misery.

And then . . . and then . . . something gradually . . . better.

Something happy.

Something bright and full of hope and joy.

His . . . his . . . his . . .

He couldn't remember.

It was so hot.

The overwhelming heat was making it difficult to remember.

The heat and the darkness pulling at him.

And the carnival.

Bright, welcoming light spilling out from between the tent flaps.

He could angle his head and just see every seat within filled laughing, cheering, clapping people.

At least he thought they were laughing, cheering, clapping people.

Their features looked a bit fuzzy.

And he couldn't hear them.

Then the curtain twitched aside.

And she appeared.

The great Elsa Mars herself.

Just as he'd always remembered her.

Bizarre eyeshadow and powder blue pantsuit.

"Elsa!"

He didn't know why he felt surprise.

This was where she was. Where she'd always been.

It shouldn't warrant surprise.

"Hello, my darling Lobster Boy."

She seemed . . . calmer now. Kinder. More at peace.

"Didn't expect you so soon."

He shrugged, scratching the back of his scruffy neck with one fused-fingered hand.

"Really? Thought I was late."

She huffed.

"Nope, not even on the bill tonight."

She glanced in.

"Hey, come here and see what the cat dragged in."

The flap twitched aside.

And there he stood.

Paul the Illustrated Seal.

In his brown striped vest and bowler hat.

Shortened arms and cocky smile.

Alive and happy and healthy.

"Blimey, mate! Fancy seeing you here! How've you been?"

His broad smile was genuine, blue eyes bright and clear.

Then he frowned.

"But . . . what're you doing here now? It's not time yet. Is it, Elsa?"

The aged strawberry blond shook her head, studying Jimmy mildly.

Jimmy frowned, looked down at his shirt, now suddenly torn and covered in blood.

Then it came to him.

Or at least he thought it did.

"I think I got shot."

Paul scoffed good-naturedly.

"Oh what, that? Oh bollocks, mate, it's just a flesh wound!"

And cast a sarcastic eye at the wooden legged German beside him.

"Not like he got a throwing knife to the stomach, eh, Elsa?"

To which she replied with a flutter of the hand and a nonsensical 'phffft'.

"First time tonight he's brought that up. Must be a personal record."

But amazingly there was no evident anamosity between them.

Though Jimmy couldn't quite grasp exactly why there should be.

So many things hovered on the edge of his mind.

Like a caught fish slipping from your hands.

Or things previously of such importance fading to grey in the cosmic scheme of things.

Or something.

Then Paul winked at him.

And ducked back inside.

Replaced by a tall, robust woman and a little bald man.

"Elsa, you gotta get back in there, they're calling for another encore and it's your t- Oh Jimmy!"

He'd never seen her smile so big.

It would have warmed him up even farther if not for the already flaming heat that seemed intent on baking him from the inside out.

Then she puzzled. Looked around.

"Walking lonely tonight?"

He stared at her, wriggling fish slipping once again from his grasp.

"I . . . guess. Why?"

He knew the answer to this. He must know the answer to this.

He knew he did.

He searched and searched for the fish in the dark, murky waters but only saw its tail as it dove away yet again.

"Oh dear. Not too bright though."

And Amazon Eve shook her head in fond befuddlement.

As she guided Elsa back into the tent.

Which left Jimmy with one remaining person between him and the entrance to the big top.

"Meep!"

Thankfully, the feather topped weirdo clutched no chicken, headless or otherwise, in his wiry hands.

Only held two closed fists.

And a giant grin.

"Hey, Meep!"

Jimmy felt a surge of relief and a lightening from deep within that he couldn't quite explain.

"You look great!"

The egg aficionado nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Meep!"

He turned his head and gazed for a long moment inside the tent.

Issued a quiet, almost yearning, meep.

Then back, seeming to search the darkness around Jimmy.

"Meep?"

Jimmy looked around, wishing he could catch that slippery, evasive fish.

It seemed so important. He knew it was important.

"I don't, I don't remember. I know I'm supposed to. I know it's really important. But I just can't."

Then Meep pointed.

Not into the tent.

But behind Jimmy.

And when the lobster handed man looked, he saw a short, silvery, child-shaped outline faintly glowing in the darkness.

Holding the hand of a taller, slightly strangely shaped, silvery outline.

He knew them. He knew them.

They were the missing link.

The last piece of the puzzle.

The slippery, hiding, mystery fish.

He knew them.

And he wanted to be with them.

But he wanted to go inside the tent too.

See the others.

Be a part of them again.

Jimmy the Lobster Boy had a decision to make.

"Meep?"

The little man blocking the entranceway into the tent gazed up at him, dark eyes full of knowledge and wisdom.

"If I come in . . . I can't come out, can I?"

Sage little beady eyes.

"And then I won't see," he gestured a lobster hand toward the figures, ". . . them for a long time again. Will I?"

Silence full of words.

"And they're . . . they're really important, aren't they?"

A whispering smile from the little man.

"And I'll remember them. And everything else if I go back. Won't I?"

Meep never made a sound.

Only held up his tiny hands and opened them.

Two small eggs.

One pale blue. One speckled brown and white.

Jimmy gazed at them.

Looked from one pull to the other.

Once more at his small friend.

Closed his eyes.

Took a deep breath.

Thought.

Opened them.

And took his first step.

Lots of implied things going here, I know. We can discuss it if you like.

Why wasn't Ma there? I think because he didn't need her to be. She has only ever appeared when he needed her. And this time, it would have only served to muddle his decision.

Or maybe I'm just a nut.

You decide, yeah?

And yes. Totally pulled a Monty Python back there. Cause they got it from Paul. ;)

Anyway, thanks to DinahRay, brigid1318, LuciaDiAngelo, autumnrose2010, Bumblebee93, and midnightrebellion86 for the great reviews on the last chapter.

See you again soon. Snow days are grand. Especially ones attached to the weekend.