Backstory - Chas/John.
Place: London, Chandler Flat
Time: 1969
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John tossed the bag of weed on his bed and shut the door, then started setting up. He stuck a fresh stick of incense in the holder and lit it, inhaling the sickly sweet scent. 'Like dead flowers,' he thought. He opened the drawer of his bedside table and took out his tarot cards and the box that held his papers, then situated himself on the floor and rolled a joint. After a few drags, he started drawing cards.
The smoke was annoying Chas. He wasn't convinced that John wouldn't burn down the place accidentally or not, so he knocked on the door. "John? What the fuck are you doing?"
John coughed and waved smoke out of his face, "Getting in touch with the occult. Come on, I'll read your cards."
Chas stared. "What the fuck?"
"I'll read your cards, Chas. Tarot."
Chas gave up arguing and stepped in. "Alright, fine."
John motioned for Chas to sit on the floor, then offered over the half finished joint, "Want?
Chas sat down and took the joint. "Thought you were broke, mate."
John cleared his throat. "Was," he corrected. "Found some rich fuck gave me a hundred quid if I sucked off him and his mate."
Chas took a deep hit. "I'm so fucking sorry I asked."
John rolled himself a fresh joint and lit it, "But you did." He shut the door again, to keep in the smoke. "Want me to read your cards or not?”
"Yeah, why not." Chas leaned against John's bed, letting the drug do its work.
"Have a question in mind. Or something you want to know. Makes it easier, that way." John shuffled the deck before setting it between them.
There were a lot of things Chas wanted to know. He just wasn't sure he really wanted the answers. "I keep the question to myself, right?"
"You can, if you want. I'm not a fucking /psychic/, Chas. I just read." He sighed, "Sure. It's easier if I know. But -- do what you want."
"Christ, I was just asking." Chas took one last hit. "Right, then. What's my future?"
"S'not a question, mate." John snorted, exhaling smoke through his nose, "You've got to give me something more specific."
Chas rolled his eyes. "You're so fucking demanding. Fine, will I ever get out of this shithole?"
"Lovely, thank you. Now that we have the question in mind, do you want the quickie two card draw, the seven card spread, or the full thing?"
"Full monty, what the hell."
"Mmkay." John scootched backwards to give himself more room. He closed his eyes and concentrated, then drew a card. The ten of swords. "Sudden misfortune, ruin of plans, defeat, failure, pain and tears. That doesn't bode well for the cover. But we'll keep going."
"Oh, nice."
He drew the card for the crossing. King of Pentacles, "A chief of industry or a banker, a reliable person, a married man, solid, steadiness. So your main problem with getting out of here will be money. -- and marriage, apparently. So maybe you get married and have to stick around?"
"Who'd marry me?" Chas snorted.
"Fuck if I'd know." He drew a card for The Crown, "Five of Swords. Failure, defeat, cowardliness, cruelty, an empty victory." He frowned, "If that's the best you can expect... You're fucked, mate."
"Fucking figures."
"Right, obstacles in your past." He drew another card and set it in its place. "The Moon. Deception, trickery, disillusionment, error, danger, disgrace, double-dealing." John finished his joint and ground it out on the floor, "Got some shit in your past you want to tell me?"
Chas stared. "No." Nothing he was willing to share.
John shrugged and rolled a new joint, taking a deep drag before continuing. "Right. The Root. Shit that's happened recently that may affect things." He drew the card. Queen of Pentacles. "Intelligence, thoughtfulness, a creative person, talents are used well, melancholy. Creative person, maybe that's me, eh?"
"If this is about the band..." Chas gave John a Look.
"Means I can read, fuckwit. Talents used well. I'm helping you. Ok, now. Shit that's going to happen soon." Another card, in its proper place. Ten of Cups, reversed. "A family quarrel, loss of a friendship, children may turn against their parents, waste."
Chas shivered, suddenly uncomfortable.
John took another hit, feeling he really needed it that time. "This, um... this shows how you feel about this question." The seventh card, drawn and placed. Ace of Pentacles, "A new business venture, the beginning of prosperity, beginning of happiness or pleasure. Obviously a reason why you want out."
Chas swallowed a few times. He held his hand out. "Give us another hit."
John kept his joint and rolled a new one, handing it over. "Right. How people around you -- or, me, really -- affect the outcome." Another card. The World. John nearly choked on his joint, "Completion, perfection, recognition, honors, the end result, success, fulfillment, triumph, eternal life..."
Chas couldn't take a drag fast enough. After a few moments, he spoke. "This is fucked up, mate."
John nodded slowly. "Just two more. Your hopes and fears and expectations, next." Ninth card. John stared at it for a long moment before taking a deep drag and setting the card down. The Lovers. "Love, harmony, trust, honor, the beginning of a romance, optimism, a meaningful relationship and or affair."
Chas just stared, joint half-forgotten.
"This last one decides pretty much how things turn out." The last card. Seven of Wands. "The ability to "hold one's own" against adversaries, stiff competition in business, a fight won, a fight one may have to face soon, victory, energy, courage. Well. That's good, yeah? Fight won, I mean. Though don't know what fuck you'll have to fight soon."
For a long time, Chas said nothing. He may have looked calm, but John surely knew him well enough to see the pain and anguish in his face.
He just sat there, taking the occasional hit.
"Chas..." John began, trying to keep his voice steady, "If there's anything you need me to do, you know I will."
Chas closed his eyes, trying to keep himself together. 'There's... It doesn't matter."
"Talk to me, Chas? What is it? The cards don't lie."
"It's her. That fucking bitch and her fucking monkey."
"I could help you. Get rid of them for you."
"How?"
"Kill them," John said plainly. No use beating around the bush.
Chas shuddered and took one last hit. "You can't. Christ, she killed my da."
"Kill the familiar, kill her. It'd be easy as fucking cake." John leaned closer, "I can do it, Chas, I know I can."
Chas looked at John, finally, with a mixture of hope and fear. "You're... you're the only friend I have left."
John rested his hand on Chas's shoulder, "Do you want me to do this for you? I will. I swear to fucking god I will."
Chas bit his lip then nodded, not trusting his voice.
John wrapped his arms around Chas and pulled him close, hugging him tightly.
Chas clung to John, stifling a sob.
John kissed his hair, pulling Chas onto his lap and cuddling close, trying to comfort.
Being in an altered state of mind was the only way Chas would accept comfort from John. He buried his face in John's chest, breathing in the scent of incense and weed.
John kissed his hair again, then his cheeks and his neck. "It'll be ok. I promise you. I'll make it better."
"Just want out," Chas murmured, his voice muffled.
"Then I'll do it. For you." John rested his head on Chas's shoulder, sighing deeply.
Chas wrapped his arms around John and held him tightly, unable to speak.
John rubbed his back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "There anything I can do for you right now?"
Chas shook his head, still holding on to John.
"Maybe... maybe we should sleep."
"Yeah," Chas said with a deep sigh.
John started clearing away the cards, "You can sleep with me, if you want."
Chas stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt. He knew he should go back to his own room - staying would only add to the list of complications that was John. But he was so tired of being alone. Though he would never admit it, sober or otherwise, his nightmares were less invasive when he was in John's arms.
John cleaned up the incense and weed, carefully stashing what was left in the bag into his bedside table drawer. He pulled back the covers and climbed in, holding his arms out for Chas.
Chas shrugged off his shirt. He crawled into bed and settled himself in John's arms.
John softly kissed Chas's forehead, wrapping his arms around him protectively. "My Chas," he murmured, "I'll take care of you.
Chas murmured something unintelligible and leaned his head against John's chest. It wouldn't take him long to fall asleep.
John, on the other hand, wasn't going to sleep that night. He had to think, had to plan.
He held Chas a little tighter, working over the details in his mind.