I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.

I doubt Ryan Murphy would even recognize it now.

Wherever You Are

*We're going full-out American Horror Story here, guys. Hang on.*

What Love Will Do

"Dot? Dot?!"

Her voice was barely more than a whisper in the dark, lonely night.

And the pain, the mental anguish, was unbelievable.

"Dorothy Jean Tattler, you answer me now! Dot . . . please?"

She felt her panic rising, a terror she had never known in all her life sweeping over her, blotting out all understanding or knowledge in her existence but the knowledge that her dear beloved sister, her body mate, her soul mate, was dead and gone forever.

Trapping the remaining survivor alone and abandoned in an encasement of connected dead flesh and congealing blood and rotting bone so long as she still drew breath.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god-

It was too much. Far too much.

And at this rate of physical and mental and emotional strain, it would be not last long.

Her heart would simply burst in her chest cavity in a moment, her blood pressure rupture some unknown anuresym in her brain.

And she would die and this would all be over.

And finished.

Her head lashed from side to side, dark eyes squeezed shut in unholy terror.

Her gasping hand reached out blindly-

And felt him.

"Shhh, Bette, shhh. It's okay. Open your eyes. Open your eyes and look at me."

Elizabeth Ann Tattler Darling Walker hitched her breath in and out in tiny, little, desperate gasps.

Gutteral moans tearing from her throat.

"Bette. Bette. Look at me."

His voice was gentler, more soothing and kind that she had ever heard it.

"Bette, calm down and look at me."

Her lips parted then and her pain rushed forth.

"I can't, Jimmy! I cannot calm down, my sister is dead beside me and I am alone-"

"No, no. It's okay, it's okay, Bette. You're not alone. I'm here and I'm going to take care of everything. Just like I promised, okay?"

Lips touched her forehead, pressing her tremors down just a little.

She opened her eyes almost against her will.

And saw him there.

Barely outlined in the dim light.

Jimmy, her Darling.

Hunched over next to the bed, leaning forward from the chair in which he had been sitting.

Stumped arms bracing him.

Eyes, dark and depthless in the dim light.

"Oh Jimmy, oh Jimmy, oh god, oh god, oh dear god-"

"Bette, turn on the lamp, okay? You know I can't do it without my hooks."

Muscle memory guided her hand and the room was bathed in dim glow.

Jimmy's aged, wrinkled face swam into her tear-blurred, half-blinded vision.

Without her permission, her head swiveled on her neck, bringing Dot's face into view.

It was peaceful and relaxed.

As if she were only sleeping and not dead at all.

But Bette could feel that she was gone.

"Dot? Sister?"

"Bette," Jimmy coaxed her gently back. "It's okay. Look at me. Bette. Look at me."

She pulled her entire being away from the visage of her dear dead sister.

And locked her terrified gaze onto Jimmy.

"I can't . . . I can't feel her . . . I can't hear her."

Jimmy nodded in agreement, swallowing hard, forcing himself be calm.

For her.

"Yeah, she's gone. And I'm sorry, Bette. But it's going to be alright. I'm going to take care of everything. Just like I promised, okay?"

She nodded, barely able to draw breath, barely able to think . . .

"There's a glass of water on the nightstand, Bette. And a bottle."

She angled her head and there was.

"I know you've had trouble sleeping at night lately . . ."

She shook her head.

"No, I haven't-"

"And you asked me to get you some pills."

He swallowed hard and forced his voice not to tremble. Too much.

"The pharmacist told me for you to be careful. Too many pills might cause an overdose and kill you."

Bette stared at him.

He was gazing at her, head tilted a little to the side, unknowingly giving her a look that was all Jimmy Darling.

His pain was there, she could see it even past her own, but he was holding it down beneath the surface in order to take care of her and do what must be done.

He was being strong for her, just like he had promised.

He was taking care of them, just like he had promised.

He was loving them, just like he had promised.

Then he managed to smile, look fondly upon her, dimple up, just a little bit.

"I love you, Bette. I love you so much."

Her burning, aching heart swelled and cracked then until her chest was on fire.

"I love you too, Jimmy."

Her trembling, clammy hand reached up and stroked his face.

And then before she could lose her nerve, Bette reached across for the bottle of pills.

The cap was loosed more than it should have been which was good because she only had the one hand to open it with and he didn't have any at all.

She took several and carefully swallowed them with water.

Then she took several more and on and on until the bottle was nearly empty.

It took some time.

There were a lot of pills. And she was not steady.

Jimmy watched her resolutely, wishing with all his heart that there was some other way.

Knowing there wasn't.

And determined to keep his face open and loving to her until she closed her eyes for the last time.

Finally, Bette put down the bottle, eyes heavy and lidded.

Her upset wasn't calming at all but it did seem farther away now.

And she was so sleepy. So very, very sleepy.

She reached out, bumping a clumsy hand against one withered stump before finding his forearm.

"She always loved you, Jimmy. She thought you were the most wonderful man alive . . ."

Her words trailed off for a moment while she gazed at him.

"And you are. You really are. You loved her, but you somehow managed to find room in your heart for me too."

He nodded, fighting back tears.

For her.

"Of course, Bette. I love you."

She smiled drowsily.

"Nobody else in the world would have found so much to give, Jimmy. Nobody would have seen us both together and separate. You're a wonderful man, Jimmy. I . . . love you so . . . much."

"I love you too, Bette."

"Those pills are working, I think."

Words were harder to form now.

"I think I'll close my eyes and maybe when I open them, I'll be with Dot again."

Jimmy nodded.

"Okay. Tell her I love her, okay? Tell her everything's gonna be alright."

Bette nodded vaguely, hand falling from his arm and pulling closely back to her own side.

"I will."

And then she closed her eyes and was quiet.

Still.

And peaceful.

Jimmy stayed as he was for a time, barely able to draw the smallest hint of breath.

Watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, seeing her entire portion of their shared body relaxing into unconsciousness.

He knew the pills might work.

And feared they would not.

And with all the love and determination in his own ailing body, Jimmy Darling picked up from the side of the nightstand the pillow Bette had not seen.

And laid it gently over her face.

He leaned as much of his weight as he dared on it.

His wall broke then and he burst into miserable, quiet sobbing, tears and snot flowing forth unheeded and unrestrained.

He wept down onto the pillow his wife lay under.

His wife who never made a move within conjoined body of her dead sister.

And he remained there.

As long as he had to.

Until he was convinced she was gone.

And then he let go.

Drew the pillow back from her lovely, pale face.

Just like her sister's.

But all her own.

That beautiful face, now still and dead.

And he knew the job was done, that horrible job he had done for his wives.

And he felt numb and empty and full of grief and guilt all at the same time.

Annabel's going to hate me for this.

He had laid his artificial appendages down next the pillow before settling in for the deathwatch earlier.

He put them in his lap now.

The hooks were old, straps worn.

He guessed he'd have to do them by himself now that his wives were dead and gone from him.

Jimmy Darling sat in a chair in front the bed where the conjoined body of Bette and Dot Tattler lay cooling.

They were still and silent.

They were peaceful.

They were gone.

But him and his worn straps remained.

When he had them secure, he rose slowly, body aching and weary.

He walked to the door and stopped.

Turned, just a little.

Just enough to see them still laying there.

Don't let us be gawked at Jimmy. Don't let them stare. Don't let them shame us like that.

Or you.

Or Annabel.

And then he went into the hall.

And made the phone call.

How you doing out there, gentle readers?

This is one of the most difficult chapters I've ever had to post in my time here on fanfic. I won't lie or be tough about it.

Thanks to autumnrose2010, brigid1318, and midnightrebellion86 for reviewing previously. :)