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Panic! Carnival AU ficlet
Late 1930s, where the boys work for a carnival traveling the country during the Depression. I should state for the record that I stole the initial idea for this from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hkath's Lost AU (which, dude, get that shit in your memories, I can't find the link anywhere!).
~~
They found him outside of Tulsa, standing at the side of the road as the dust swirled around him and tussled his hair. He’d been standing there as if he’d been waiting for them all along.
The caravan came to a stop, and Brendon could hear Old Man Adams yell, “You lost?”
The guy smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Nope. Just need a job.”
“Yeah?” Adams laughed, and that was about when Spencer jabbed him in the shoulder and hissed, “What’s going on?”
“Some guy, I don’t know. He’s looking for work.” Brendon leaned further out the wagon’s window and watched the way the guy shifted from foot to foot. His clothes held the muted color of dust and looked worn, soft, like they’d rarely left his body. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark brown trousers, but he kept his chin tipped up.
He was scruffy as hell, but he didn’t give the appearance of a beggar. The difference between him and them was that he didn’t seem desperate at all, only determined. And Brendon knew—they all knew—that there was a world of difference between the two.
“What’s his name?” Spencer leaned over his shoulder to get a look. Brendon started to shove him off, but then Old Man Adams asked the same question. Spencer smirked.
“Jon Walker,” the guy replied, shielding his eyes from the garish afternoon sun.
“Got any mechanical skills? I need someone to tinker with the carousel.”
He thought for a moment, and finally nodded. “I can handle that,” was all he said.
There was a long pause before Adams grumbled, “Alright then, get yer ass in one of the wagons. We’re goin’ until we hit Kansas City.”
Jon pulled his hands out of his pockets, rubbed them together slowly as he looked up and down the line. When he caught Brendon and Spencer still gawking at him, he laughed and tilted his head to one side. He suddenly looked shy.
“Can I ride with you two?” he asked as he scrubbed a hand through his hair.
Brendon practically scrambled over Spencer to get the back door open for him, much to Spencer’s huffed displeasure and mumbled, “He’s a Dust Bowl kid, Brendon.”
hkath's Lost AU (which, dude, get that shit in your memories, I can't find the link anywhere!). ~~
They found him outside of Tulsa, standing at the side of the road as the dust swirled around him and tussled his hair. He’d been standing there as if he’d been waiting for them all along.
The caravan came to a stop, and Brendon could hear Old Man Adams yell, “You lost?”
The guy smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Nope. Just need a job.”
“Yeah?” Adams laughed, and that was about when Spencer jabbed him in the shoulder and hissed, “What’s going on?”
“Some guy, I don’t know. He’s looking for work.” Brendon leaned further out the wagon’s window and watched the way the guy shifted from foot to foot. His clothes held the muted color of dust and looked worn, soft, like they’d rarely left his body. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark brown trousers, but he kept his chin tipped up.
He was scruffy as hell, but he didn’t give the appearance of a beggar. The difference between him and them was that he didn’t seem desperate at all, only determined. And Brendon knew—they all knew—that there was a world of difference between the two.
“What’s his name?” Spencer leaned over his shoulder to get a look. Brendon started to shove him off, but then Old Man Adams asked the same question. Spencer smirked.
“Jon Walker,” the guy replied, shielding his eyes from the garish afternoon sun.
“Got any mechanical skills? I need someone to tinker with the carousel.”
He thought for a moment, and finally nodded. “I can handle that,” was all he said.
There was a long pause before Adams grumbled, “Alright then, get yer ass in one of the wagons. We’re goin’ until we hit Kansas City.”
Jon pulled his hands out of his pockets, rubbed them together slowly as he looked up and down the line. When he caught Brendon and Spencer still gawking at him, he laughed and tilted his head to one side. He suddenly looked shy.
“Can I ride with you two?” he asked as he scrubbed a hand through his hair.
Brendon practically scrambled over Spencer to get the back door open for him, much to Spencer’s huffed displeasure and mumbled, “He’s a Dust Bowl kid, Brendon.”