[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

[kayakking]

[He smirks and saunters back to the kitchen.]

Gundam, my arse.

[eyediot]

It was a joke!

[He follows after Tim, muttering:] Can't believe it, a grown man can't take a bit of teasing.

[kayakking]

[Speaking of, he scoops his phone back up to continue his absolutely straight and narrow conversation with Martin K. Blackwood.]

Uh huh.

[And when whatever he finishes swyping, Jon doesn't actually get to see it before the smartphone is slid back into his pocket casually.]

Anyway, where were we.

[eyediot]

[He takes his seat again, not even realizing Tim's back to texting until the phone is put away.]

I... don't rightly know, to be honest.

[kayakking]

[Tim picks up his beer and settles in with it comfortably. The expression he turns on Jon is... openly fond and a little concerned.]

So, how you doing? Feeling any better at least?

[eyediot]

[The concern is what throws Jon a bit. He'd gone from Tim being a bit distant since he started in the promotion, to beginning to hate him, to whatever the last few days have been, to... Friendship again.

Jon can't help but laugh. Less honest and freeing than earlier, and a little more resigned and deprecating.]

I really don't know. I... It's so much. [Quieter:] It's too much.

[kayakking]

[Both of his hands wrap around the can, and he takes a moment to take another long sip.]

All of it, huh. I uh... think I know the feeling.

[eyediot]

[He takes another slow sip. It's almost empty, but this was something Tim provided so he won't take it for granted.]

...I asked him, uh. Algric. After you both left. I asked if, in his time, I'm a monster.

[kayakking]

[Oh... oh shit.]

...

So, this isn't where you tell me he suddenly turned around and told you some good news and you don't know what to do with it.

[eyediot]

[Sorry, Tim.]

...He didn't say 'no'.

[He looks pretty...broken up about it.]

[kayakking]

[He sinks a little, elbows settling on the table.]

After you- we- die?

[eyediot]

[He nods, setting the empty can by his empty glass in the middle of the island counter.]

Doesn't sound like there's much I can do to stop it. Not without putting my eyes out.

[kayakking]

[That- that jolts back to him, oddly enough. Having settled into the fog that has been taking little bites and nibbles from his conversation with Algric. Most of is WAS so upsetting and personal that it entrenched, but for some reason, that SPECIFICALLY had just... vanished.]

Shit... Right. That's a thing.

[He... looks at Jon warily.]

Arree, you thinking about it?

[eyediot]

[He hesitates. Because on the one hand, he... doesn't want to become a monster? He doesn't. And he doesn't want to be the pawn for some eldritch fear monster. He doesn't want to be the cause of suffering for his friends.

But on the other hand... working at the Archive, for the Eye, has let him learn things. He's in a position to see and know whatever he wants. He isn't entirely keen on giving that up either.]

I'm not sure. There is something nagging at me a bit. And he couldn't give me an answer. I don't think it's something he considered before I asked. But I wonder... since you're all technically [complete with airquotes] my staff... Would all of you have to do it, or would everything stop if it was just me?

[kayakking]

[Tim leans back, trying to feel it out and- He shakes his head.]

Well... if there's anywhere we could find the answer to that. It has to be somewhere at work.

[As he has his own reasons for not wanting to stop yet...]

[eyediot]

I agree.

[And he still doesn't sound too happy about it.]

I'll have to keep digging. See what I can find.

[kayakking]

[No, of all of the things, he absolutely does not want to see another friend of his like... well, like Algric.]

Right. You know you've got us too for that.

[eyediot]

[?!]

I... Y-yes. Thank you.

[SORRY HE SOUNDS GENUINELY SURPRISED BY THAT.]

[kayakking]

[GOD. JON. He wants to grab you by your tiny shoulder and shake.]

Good? Good. Because it's BEEN THAT WAY.

[eyediot]

I-- Tim.

I. Ever since we came back to work since the Prentiss attack, I've thought you hated me.

[kayakking]

It.. I'm going to be real honest here. It was getting real close to it.

[eyediot]

...I'm glad it didn't go that far, then.

[kayakking]

Me either. Wasn't exactly fun times for me either. It's just-

[He... cuts himself off with a handwave. No point in retreading old ground.]

[eyediot]

Right.

[He sits back in his seat a bit. He.. hadn't eaten and it's starting to hit him. He really needs to just let that alcohol settle before he gets himself sick.]

...I don't think I've ever really had friends, you know?

1/2

[kayakking]

[Tim doesn't seem to keep much out either. While there's dishes in the sink, it's not as though there's much in the way of visible leftover. Though a bowl of fruit sits not too far from Jon.

Tim sets the empty can down, arms folding loosely in front of him.

Yeah... that's pretty probable, really. After all, friendship has to go both ways for it to be valid.]