[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

[secreteary]

He...did, yeah.

[Martin hesitates, remembering the conversation. it clearly did not leave good feeling in its wake, in a way unrelated to the actual point of the call.

not important. he smiles, uncertain.]

How are you feeling? Are they taking care of you alright? Do you need anything?

[eyediot]

They're taking care of me. No worries, said I should be discharged in a day or so.

[He says it in... probably the calmest tone he's ever had with Martin. Remembering Tim talking about how Martin had fussed over Jon's entire office before for accessibility and all just... Did something.]

How's Tim? I haven't heard anything from him yet.

[secreteary]

Oh, er--

[there is no way no how that Martin is now avoiding Jon's eyes, looking very embarrassed and guilty.]

I, ah, d-dunno. I haven't...seen him yet. Came straight here. [he's a little pink, now staring at the floor and his fidgeting hands in his lap.]

I mean, Tim was clearly fine enough to call, so I thought...

[regardless. he waves that away and smiles awkwardly at Jon.]

I'm glad you'll be out so soon. Shame about your physical therapy, though.

[eyediot]

[Man now Jon can't not see it. Jon watches him and really, really wishes he knew what to do. That whole night drinking with Tim did not help him get any guidance at all.]

I suppose he was... [Sigh.] Yes, I... think that'll have to be extended a bit.

[secreteary]

[there's sudden chewing of his lips and squirming in his seat.]

Is there...anything I can do? I know it's only a couple of days, but I could grab you books or something? Bring you something to eat better than hospital food?

[eyediot]

Martin.. Thank you. But you don't have to go as far as that.

[He reaches for his glasses and-- Oh. Martin's hands are... His brows knot a bit in concern and his voice is torn between worry and a sternness. Something happened to his friend and assistant.]

What happened.

[secreteary]

[oh shit. careful, boyo. play it cool. Martin schools his face into one of mild confusion.]

What do you mean?

[eyediot]

Your hands.

[He gestures, almost gently. If he's not careful, he'll forget he's trying to hide that he Knows About Martin's Feelings and reach for them, but he resists for now.]

[secreteary]

What about them?

[at this, he examines them, turning them over and feigning close scrutiny.]

They're not any different from that night, surely.

[eyediot]

Martin.

[The only thing keeping the tone from going angry is the fact he's so exhausted and just woke up. He takes a breath. Calms himself. Martin's here worrying over him, this isn't the time to get riled up.]

Please... don't do that.

[secreteary]

Do what.

[eyediot]

Your hands are worse than they were that night. I'm asking what happened since then to cause that.

[Yeah he's not letting you slide from this. He's not at work right now, he's ostensibly got answers to a lot of his mysteries. He's got nothing to distract him.]

[secreteary]

[ohhhh man, this Martin hasn't had to deal with significant Knows yet, which is great because even just this perception check on Jon's part is making him very uncomfortable.

maybe this is a downside to Jon paying more than his usual modicum of attention.]

Nothing. R-really. It just hasn't gone away, sssssso I guess it's just. Creeping up?

[eyediot]

[Thankfully for Martin, Jon doesn't really know enough about the entities or the Lonely or how their "infections" really work to rebuff that. Instead, he watches down at Martin's hands, all worry and lets out a huff through his nose. Then, quietly and full of concern:]

We should... Find out if there's a way to stop it.

[secreteary]

That would be nice if we could. I don't fancy turning out like........

[UGH]

..."Algric".

[eyediot]

I'd... like to. Stop it, I mean.

[Yeah he's still groggy and dealing with the cycle rounds of morphine:] Is it really that bad a name? Thought it was cute.

1/2

[secreteary]

[there's a low whine coming from someplace that might be a miserable and very embarrassed Martin.]

It's humiliating. I can't believe he'd bring that up. I was stupid and thirteen and it was just a...blatant self-insert. Over-powered and all, and--

[secreteary]

[hold on.]

......Wait, "cute"?

[eyediot]

[Some part of his brain remembered through the Lonely fog of Algric's that it was some "forum rpg" character he'd made, but mostly the rest he'd forgotten after he'd told Tim about it. He's a little preoccupied cleaning his glasses really quickly.]

Hm? Yes, it's a cute name. Diggly. Hm. Anyway, I didn't look into anything about it. Just that he said to call him that to help the confusion of there being two of you.

[secreteary]

[muttered darkly to himself:]

Thank heaven for little miracles, I suppose.

[shooting Jon a furtive look:]

You don't think it's...weird?

[eyediot]

Why would it be? Everyone has hobbies, even hobbies they grew out of.

[secreteary]

[man, between Tim and Jon, it's almost like Martin matters to people.

his hands warm in response to this unhesitating acceptance of what Martin considers, for lack of a better term, a very cringe-y part of his adolescence.

and for it to come from Jon... well. feels pretty good, dunnit.

his fingertips tingle as color and feeling returns to them, but he almost doesn't know because of his nervous, pleased aura that he's putting out.]

Th...thank you. Was afraid, you know?

[eyediot]

Don't see why.

[Don't mind him, Mr. Bullied For Reading A Lot As A Child and being a nuisance his whole life.]

Either way, there won't be confusion now between you both.

[secreteary]

Yeah, I'll take that as an...improvement.

[eyediot]

Hm.

[Jon watches him, still... Really carefully watching his hands and fingers. God, the Lonely got him too. He must have missed when that happened. When did that happen?]

Either way. It's... Good to see you, Martin. I'm glad you weren't there when all this happened.