[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

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh shit. He had said that, hadn't he? Martin goes utterly pale for a moment, distracted from Jon's discomfort by ... well. All of that. ]

I ... I worked for Lukas. Like I said. His endgame was to make me control the Panopticon for him. A-and when I refused, he tossed me into the Lonely.

[eyediot]

[Okay now both hands are cradling his aching head. His skull is pounding and his stab wound aches. But if what Martin's saying is true, then this is the safest and only place to discuss any of this.

But he still doesn't know if it's true. The only proof so far is the recording of. Of Sasha.]

This is ...a lot to process, Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon. At least now he sees Jon's face and realises what kind of pain he must be in. ]

I know. I know. I - look, why don't you sit down? You don't seem well.

[eyediot]

It's fine, I'm all right.

[He's not.]

I just want to get to the bottom of this.

[He does, but he won't. He's already lilting to one side.]

I can't... Stop until I know.

[Know that he's sliding down against the tunnel wall. Yeah he's out cold.]

[curriculum_fictae]

-- Jon!

[ At least Martin is there to keep him from thwacking his head against the side of the wall. Or the floor. He cradles Jon down the rest of the way, tugging him gently against his own soft (if rather chilly) torso. ]

You - you idiot. What am I even going to do?

[eyediot]

[Why are you asking him? He's the unconscious guy.

But hey, at least it was all recorded on his handy-dandy tape recorder! Which is. Still going, unfortunately.

What's up, Martin.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Rude as hell, Jon. Just. Completely. He sighs a moment and just looks down at him, checking to make sure he didn't bump his head. ]

Why did I ever fall in love with you? You're the worst.

[eyediot]

[It's not his fault he hasn't had his full character building be-back-in-5-minutes-for-a-smoke mistake yet.

He does. Sort of settle into him though. The sweater's soft okay.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It's a very soft sweater. And Martin is soft underneath it, and ...

He picks Jon up, gently. Wonders if he can make it all the way back to Jon's place without the man waking up. ]

[eyediot]

[It's pretty easy to do, really. Jon's a baby lightweight - he can take a lot of pain but once he's out, he's out.

Anyway he's exactly the kind of overprepared idiot that keeps a key under his doormat thinking "no one would ever look there it's too predictable". So of course there's an extra key under his doormat.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Poor, poor Jon. Martin had been considering whether to try using the Lonely to sneak in somehow, but. Well. Then he spies that key. And he judges Jon just a little bit more.

Being careful not to jostle Jon too much, he retrieves the key and lets himself in. ]

[eyediot]

[Inside is exactly what one would expect the Archivist's apartment to be: a bit dissheveled, notes everywhere, coffee and tea mugs scattered about. He does have his own red string board, but so far there's only one string because it's too early in the season.

He groans a little, smelling his familiar home and takes in a deep breath. There isn't much scent to Martin after being so closely associated with the Lonely. But there is a little bit. enough that Jon starts drifting from 'unconscious coma' to 'quiet sleep'.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It's ... quaint. Almost cute? And strange. Martin has so much more of the picture than Jon does. So many more of the pieces. He lingers by it for a moment before heading for Jon's bedroom. That's the safest place to get him tucked in, he thinks; he's not sure how comfortable the sofa is.

Though he's going to find out, isn't he. Even as he considers what to do after Jon's settled, he ... realises that he can't go back to his flat. Because he's still there, isn't he? The him who was here in the past. And he does not want to find out what happens when he meets himself. ]

[eyediot]

[Bed.

Bed is good. Bed is nice. Especially his own bed after so long sleeping at the Archive and then the hospital.

It's... hours before he wakes up. His head still hurts, but that's likely just from yknow. Passing out underground with no food or caffeine. He is surprised to wake up in his own home though.]

Wha... What... How'd I get here?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ In his own home, ever so gently tucked into his own bed. You sure you didn't just come home yourself, Jon? Seems possible.

But... there's a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, and the sound of someone bustling quietly, trying not to wake him. A few seconds later, Martin pokes his head in. ]

Oh. You're awake.

[eyediot]

Martin.

[Whoa - Double take as he sits up in bed.]

Martin? What... I-- [Did he just... Dream all of it? But if he did, why is Martin in his flat?]

I think I need to lie down. [And immediately does so.]

[curriculum_fictae]

You've been lying down for the past six hours. I was starting to get worried.

[eyediot]

You've been in my flat for the last six hours?

[curriculum_fictae]

I - I ducked out to get some ingredients, but. Yes? I was worried about you.

[eyediot]

How did you even get in?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Now that gets a look. ]

Key under your doormat. Not subtle.

[eyediot]

Well--

[HMPH.

He crosses his arms in true solid petulance.]

... You put it back, right?

[curriculum_fictae]

Wh - why would I put it back? You're just asking to be robbed, Jon.

[eyediot]

[Well now he's just being true blooded millennial.]

Do you see anything here worth stealing.

[curriculum_fictae]

W-well - well no, but it would be a hassle rebuying things.

[ SIGH. ]

It's on the table. You can do what you like with it after dinner.