[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]

[Meanwhile, Jon is... hovering. He's anxious about this whole thing, it wasn't planned, Tim said Martin was coming tomorrow, not while they were still sorting out so much of this information up front.

But with Martin hunched over like that.... Jon looks at Tim and the future-Martin, nods once (he's being taken care of, he trusts Tim to do that) then carefully steps in around present-Martin to get a small hand towel from his cabinet and wet it with cold water.]

Here.

[secreteary]

[when the world takes a momentary break from tilting, Martin looks up just enough to see what's offered, and then to look up at who's offering. Martin's...a little surprised.]

...Thank you.

[he takes it, not able to manage a grateful smile, and holds it against the back of his neck. he's upright now, at least, leaning on his other hand against the rim of the sink. he read something about the back of the neck being helpful about nausea once? or something like that? he can't think, he can't remember. he's just cold, and confused.

Martin worries his lip a little, and looks up at the mirror above the sink.]

So...he's really me?

[eyediot]

[Jon, for his part, just leans against the counter watching the wall. Some semblance of privacy for Martin, but still wanting to stick close.]

Seems that way. Right now we can't disprove it, but we have some things we need to check.

[A beat, then a little quieter.] I'm sorry about Tim. You know him, he's... [Vaguely gestures with one hand.] More into ripping the bandaid off at once.

[secreteary]

I thought... [not able to stand looking at himself in the mirror any longer, his eyes cast down into the sink again.] I thought everything he said, in the texts... I thought it was all Tim...being Tim.

[it's hard to swallow; his throat is tight.]

What was important was that...you've been better, and he found out why, and I-- We've been so worried about you, so... I just. I want to help. If I can.

But then I touched...him, and--

[Martin looks at his left hand, and for the first time sees that not only is it cold, it's partially transparent like frosted glass. he lets out a strangled yelp and stumbles backwards, holding his hand farther away from himself.]

What the fuck?!

[eyediot]

What.

[Jon doesn't immediately see the problem. But then he looks at Martin's hand, sees it outstretched and his eyes go wide.]

I don't.. I don't understand. [He reaches for Martin's elbow, carefully holding it in one hand and Martin's hand in his other.]

This isn't right, I... I don't know.

[secreteary]

Oh--

[WARM.

it's instantaneous and travels up his arm quickly; a blaze of heat that hurts because of the sudden change in temperature in his body.

color blooms back into his hand and whatever little of his arm that the cold and transparency had bled into so quickly, like dropping ink into water.

but these things are barely registering to Martin. he gives a cursory glance to his hand. but it's Jon's touch that fascinates him; he'd reached out so casually with genuine concern, with soft confusion, not wanting to alarm Martin. he stares at Jon, searching his face in this quiet, easy closeness.

heat quickly reaches Martin's face, but who can say the reason why?]

[eyediot]

[Certainly not Jon, who's just relieved the color's coming back. From what little he does understand, there's no reason for this to be happening. Except...

Gods.]

I think. I think maybe you weren't supposed to touch each other.

[secreteary]

[oh. it's not A Moment. of course it's not. ...how stupid.

the heat dissipates a little, but somehow he feels even colder than before.

just push it down, like always.

Martin nods.]

I...guess not. I got part of whatever...is wrong with him.

[a beat, and then a whisper:]

What is wrong with him? Is it because of the time...whatever that Tim mentioned?

[eyediot]

A lot of things, apparently.

[Yeah, for it not being A Moment, Jon sure isn't keen on letting go. He's still holding on to Martin's hand and elbow gently.]

I don't fully understand a lot of it.

[secreteary]

[if he notices that fact, it only makes him sad and slightly quieter.]

Could you tell me what you do understand? Or should we...go back in there and start sorting things?

[eyediot]

[He takes a short breath and exhales through his nose trying to think.]

According to him [His polite way of saying 'take this shit with a grain of salt because we don't have hard proof yet'.] He's from two years in the future. Elias murdered Gertrude, and the Archive is some ... place for an entity of fear. And that there are fourteen of them, and they have to do with the statements we've been trying to record. They're all interconnected somehow and...

[He trails off. There are a lot of other things they've been told but he'd rather they all discuss Sasha together.]

He should explain the rest, I think.

[secreteary]

[there's that rapid blink of Martin trying to take in......a LOT.

his mind is so preoccupied that he barely registers the cold seeping back into his fingers, the slight translucence...

creeping horror sets in and Martin's eyes widen; he stares at nothing while gripping his hair a little.]

Elias did...? Why would he-- And, and "time ghost", oh my god...

[eyediot]

Hey- Stay with me, all right?

[Jon carefully just. Holds one of Martin's elbows, trying to be a presence even if he's not entirely sure what he should be doing. He doesn't want to hurt Martin or smother him, but he also? Doesn't know how to human touch?

God he's awkward at this.]

There's ... There's a lot. I won't make you go back out there, but I think it'd be good to hear the whole story from him.

[secreteary]

I don't-- [slowly rubs his face] I don't know what I want.

[both hands curl softly into loose fists.]

It would... It would be good to know, yeah? What he knows. To be prepared, and to know, and maybe we could prevent bad things, and...

[he trails off, continuing that negative train of thought in silence. transparency and icy cold slowly spreads even further up the arm that Jon's holding.]

I don't know what I want, but what I want doesn't matter, does it? We have to do what's best for everyone.

[eyediot]

[Well.

That's certainly a statement. Future Martin didn't mention anything like this, but has he always felt like this? Man...]

I think what you want does matter. It matters just as much as whatever's best for everyone else.

[He lowers his voice again, just for this Martin struggling in front of him, that needs some support.] I don't... Really know what's going to happen, or what's best. I just... Know that something screwy is going on with the Institute, and I've spent weeks since the Prentiss attack looking for answers, especially if it means keeping myself and whoever was innocent safe. That includes you.

[secreteary]

[oh.

the spread stops, and Martin looks up. he's trying not to look as vulnerable as he feels, but failing. badly.

oh, Jon.]

...Is that what you've been doing? Asking us strange questions, spying on Tim's house... Were you trying to...protect us?

[he frowns slightly.]

By yourself?

[eyediot]

...I suppose I wasn't very good at it.

[No, he's sure he just made everyone suspicious of him.]

I didn't know who I could trust. I still... Don't know how much I trust him out there. He's been here for a week and I haven't had much chance to look for proof of what he was telling me. Not without alerting any of you or Elias.

At the very least, I think it's worth sitting and listening to him.

[secreteary]

No, you were terrible. I- We've all been so worried about you.

[he looks away from Jon, the frown turning from one of concern to one of quiet misery. he rubs the arm that starts turning more transparent again.]

Couldn't even trust me?

[it's so quiet and so...hurt. but he doesn't allow himself - or Jon - to dwell on it.]

Yeah, I-- Let's listen to him. I think I can do something about "proof" that he's me.

[eyediot]

[Jon eyes that arm concerned. He doesn't know what to do or how to stop it now that it's started.

But with that admission, he nods. Keeps one hand on his elbow and starts leading Martin out back into the main room.]

We're coming back.