John makes a sound, strangled and intense, that might be Arthur's name in a sob before Arthur is swept up into his arms and held, close and tight.

You're everything to me, Arthur. I didn't- I don't-

It was true, though, wasn't it? The two of them, born of tragedy and pain, struggling to make a life, happiness, learning through fucking up since there was no other way, really, not alone but now-

Oh, Arthur!

Arthur will feel it and hear it, the great rushing crescendo bursting forth, the swell of intense violin music that seems to be elegantly diving into the depths of Hell, determined to keep going until it's through.