[PSL] time travel, time travel

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin had always known that Lukas would kill him in the end. If not along the way, then surely at the end, once he'd gotten what he wanted out of Martin, whatever that turned out to be. When the Lonely rose up to swallow him, he'd accepted his impending death with ... what?

What did he have left, really? Numbness, mostly. A hallucination of Jon in the Lonely, looking for him, but - but that was impossible, ridiculous. His mind playing cruel tricks. He settled himself down in the frigid surf, knees drawn up close to his chest, unshed tears frozen to his cheeks and lashes.

And then. A door. A door that shouldn't exist, that couldn't exist. That he shouldn't take at all. The Lonely was terrible, yes, but it was quiet, and it was peaceful. Martin was aligned enough with it by now to very nearly enjoy it, in a strange and terrible way. The Spiral would be infinitely worse than this quiet beach.

But ... it was hope, too. In a strange way. Hope enough that Martin found himself turning the door handle and stepping through, leaving the false comfort of the Lonely behind him.

The transition was unpleasant. Long. But Martin couldn't remember it after; he only remembered stumbling out through the door of a supply closet somewhere deep in the Archives, blinking up at the dim bulbs that pretended to be sufficient. What time was it? Had he escaped? Where were Lukas and Elias now?

And where was Jon? ]

Comments

[eyediot]

I'm... glad.

[He relaxes at that. His head is just slumped into the pillow watching him sideways.]

Before all this happened, I... was really. Having trouble, you know? Trusting anyone and. Ready to ...Be hated. So...Thank you.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He does know that. He's seen the end result of that - the paranoia, the team only half getting back together before the Unknowing blew it all up again. Hell, if he looks at Tim ...

He's just not sure if it makes up for the awful gashes in Jon's feet. ]

I'm glad I managed to do one thing right, then.

[eyediot]

...You did a lot right, Algric.

[He watches Algric for a few minutes. Enjoying that companionable silence for a bit.

But when he speaks again, his voice is a whisper. A quiet, broken hush.] It keeps happening. The... The knowing things. Just little things, but...

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Oh Jon. Whatever relief Algric was feeling, it evaporates again. But ... at least this way he can focus on Jon instead. That mostly helps. ]

Yes. Yes, I - I think it will probably keep happening. More and more. And eventually, you'll find that you don't really ... get nourishment out of real food any more. You need statements instead.

[eyediot]

[HEY HE DOESN'T LIKE THAT??? He'll think this is a weird fever dream in a day or two, but he hates that idea. It's clear on his face he doesn't like that. It's clear on his face how he feels about it.]

Is there any way to stop it?

[curriculum_fictae]

Just - just the way I talked about before. With, you know.

[ He gestures to his eyes. ]

[eyediot]

... Right.

[Not his favorite line of thought, but. There may be some merit. He wants to find out some other things first, though, and there may be some answers in Gertrude's tapes.

If the others don't have to go that far, then he doesn't want them.]

I'd rather it not come to that for all of you.

[curriculum_fictae]

I'd. I'd rather it not either.

... But if you're going to do it, you should consider doing it soon.

[eyediot]

...I'll keep it in mind.

[He sighs. Stares up at the ceiling. Tries to to imagine his life without being able to see. He doesn't like it.

He'd have to resort to audiobooks. Ugh.

Not being able to see either yada yada but god. The concessions he'd have to make.]

What happens if I'm the only one who does it?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon. Surely by now you've realised that Algric never has any good news. ]

I - I don't think that helps us. Just you.

[eyediot]

Mm... I don't know, I just thought... you're all my staff so...


[If Elias is the roots, Jon is the trunk, the rest of the team are branches, or... something. The logic behind the thought process is getting lost in the haze. It's clear he is starting to drift, but he doesn't really want to.]

I don't know.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It ... isn't a bad train of logic? It definitely makes Algric think for a moment. But if Jon only had to put his own eyes out to free them all, wouldn't he have done it? Even if it killed him?

Maybe. Maybe. ]

It's not happening tonight. You need to sleep.

[eyediot]

[His immediate, morphine-induced thought is to ask him to not leave. The idea of being alone right now, even while he's asleep is... bad. At the same time, is it fair to ask that of him? When Algric knows no one can or will see him? Hear him? He'd be alone in this room with Jon asleep and no one would notice.

Jon's eyes are focused on Algric as they slowly close, sleep starting to take him.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It's all right, Jon. Algric can't read his mind, but ... he has a good sense of what you want. ]

Sleep, Jon. I'll stay right here.

[ The last thing Jon likely sees before passing out is Algric's utterly lovesick expression. ]

[eyediot]

[It's a few hours - or a day, who even knows in this place - when Jon wakes up again. Quiet and slow, those eyes flutter open.

Everything's a bit fuzzy, he isn't sure where his glasses went. But he groans, shifting and trying to sit up a bit. His back is so, so sore now that he's been laying on it a bit and that round of painkillers has run through.]

God... should've asked for a book.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric, meanwhile, is dozing in a nearby chair. Had he ever left? Probably not. He's - well, he's terrified that Jon will drop dead again, or not wake up, or ...

He startles awake immediately at Jon's voice. And brightens a little through his fog. ]

-- Oh. I. Actually, I brought a couple. I thought, ah, if worse came to worst, I'd read to you.

[ He has a lot of experience with reading to dead Jon. ]

[eyediot]

Oh--

[Oh jeez, Algric is still here. He can't see a clock but surely it's been long enough that he should've gone home by now?]

You... didn't have to stay this long...

[curriculum_fictae]

Where else am I going to go, Jon? Back to your place?

[ He managed a weak smile. ]

Besides, the nurses can't throw me out.

[eyediot]

...No, I suppose they can't.

[Jon finally gets set up, leaning back against the pillows.]

But you could have gone back to my place. At least to sleep there.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric just shakes his head gently. And laughs a little. ]

Jon. I don't want to do that. Not while you're stuck here.

[eyediot]

... I shouldn't be here much longer. If I remember what they told me, I should be discharged later today or tomorrow.

[Maybe. Hopefully. God he hopes.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric brightens at that. ]

Really? That's lovely. With a wheelchair, probably, given. Ah.

[ He gestures to Jon's feet. ]

I'll help you get back. And, ah. Probably start another ghost story rumour.

[eyediot]

Right... [His fucking feet.

But at the comment about the ghost rumour, Jon smirks. Almost a laugh.]

Was there another already?

[curriculum_fictae]

Y. Yes. I - ah. I badly frightened one of the night nurses, I think.

[eyediot]

[He snorts loudly at that - exhaustion and the painkillers getting to him.]

It seems most hospitals have some story like this. It's not so out of the ordinary then.