[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, um. I'm not really sure.

[Lie.]

The- the medications and all. I've... already sort of lost track of the conversation, I'm sorry.

[Just stuff that down, ignore it, jsut let it die with him.]

Probably just. Talking nonsense.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric could buy that. It would be an easy out - it would be what they both want, right? Algric has no right making his alternate self unhappy, which Jon had made clear just now.

Yes, that was the cause of his confusion, or so he thought. He'd made it easier for Jon to prioritise Martin - and had expected relief, if not actual gratitude. This is something else. He doesn't know what it is, but he can tell that it's not good. ]

No. No, I've - I've hurt you. I've done something. I - I don't know what but --

[eyediot]

[He takes a sharp inhale. He... really hoped given what Algric had just said and done that they'd just... move on. He's trying to hide the shakiness in his voice; the medications really are getting to him a bit, the ever-present neverending soreness in his back and feet. IT's overwhelming, really.]

I'm not. Good at this.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon. He can't let this go this time. ]

W-well - well neither am I.

[eyediot]

[Jon really. Really tries to think. Focus through the haze of everything.]

Is it so hard to believe I'm capable of caring for more than one person at a time?

[He isn't looking at Algric. Hell, he's almost half-rolled onto his side so Algric can't see his face. He feels miserable in a way he hasn't in a long, long time and he isn't really in the mood to go pouring his heart out.

Right. Focus on the work. On finding proof to get Elias out of the Institute. Stop the Unknowing. Save Tim.

Focus.]


...I have to. Prepare to make a statement. When I go back. I'll figure things out from where.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ God. He knows Jon doesn't intend that as a threat, but it feels like one? A threat by way of Elias, anyway. Algric stiffens instantly, remembering that awful, intrusive feeling that he'd witnessed.

It at least kicks him into saying things that maybe he wouldn't normally. ]

Of - of course I believe you're capable. I - I just -

[ His own voice drops to a whisper. ]

I just don't think I'm capable of being cared about.

[eyediot]

You're wrong.

[Simple as that. Martin, Algric, Tim, all of them. He doesn't exactly know all of Martin's life stories, but there are very few people he can think of that outright deserve to be forgotten. Algric isn't one of them.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Ah. That's -

The usual objections rise up, of course, threatening to spill out of his mouth. But he's already seen how much it hurts Jon for him to say it out loud. Or turn away not accepting it.

Instead, he just ... covers his mouth for a moment. A small flush settling in his cheeks. ]

Sorry. Sorry, I just - it's been months with Peter breathing down my neck, and -

[ Muffled, through his fingers. ]

I'm so glad you care about me, Jon.

[eyediot]

...I don't know much about Peter, or the. The Lonely beyond what you've told me.

But if it works in any way similar to the Institute and the Eye... He was doing that intentionally. And no amount of prolonged contact like that means it's true.

[Even if Martin can't see his face, there's the sound of a quiet, shaky exhale. He is a grown man who knows how to handle his own feelings and being rebuffed after sharing them.]

Someone would have to be an idiot to not care.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon. An apology is likely coming from Algric, anyway, once he figures out how. ]

Y... yes. Yes, it's.

[ Another deep breath. ]

You're not an idiot. I'm - I want you to care, Jon. More than anyone else in the world.

[eyediot]

[Slow, deep breath but. Still not looking at him, still with his back to him.]

I know. I'm... an idiot for not realizing it for so long.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ A slow, uncertain blink. ]

Not realising what?

[eyediot]

...How you feel.

[curriculum_fictae]

How I -

[ That's. Fairly blatant? It's incredibly blatant, and yet. He's been wrong about Jon knowing before.

So he flushes dimly under the fog in his face, bowing his head. ]

How. How do you think I feel--?

[eyediot]

[Jon turns his head just enough that he can see Algric from the corner of his eye through his disheveled hair.]

'The man I love'?

[eyediot]

'In love with a moron"?

[eyediot]

'Never changed how I felt about you'?

4/4

[eyediot]

God, I am a moron.

[And he lays his head back down.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Oh god.

Algric makes a strangled little noise. That's what he gets for assuming that Jon would be too thick to get it forever, that he could just hint out in the open like that and assume Jon would think it's his nonexistent partner-- ]

S-sorry - sorry, I'm sorry, I -

[eyediot]

There's nothing to apologize for.

[Except like. Turning him away the two seconds he let himself be vulnerable, but yknow. That's on Jon, really. His own fault for trying.]

...Like I said. I understand.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric just puts his head in his hands. (It doesn't do much good; he can see through his fingers.) ]

U-understand what? That - that I'm still desperately in love with you?

[eyediot]

Well. Yes.

But. [UGH why is he the emotionally constipated hedgehog here.]

It. It doesn't really matter. You just... [Hurt him. He raises one hand to gesture vaguely. That whole previous bit of conversation.] You know.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Oh. Finally something sinks in. Jon had been - what? Not confessing, no, but baring his soul? ]

Oh god, Jon, I - I didn't mean -

[ The words come tumbling out miserably. ]

I-I didn't mean to push you away. That's not - not what I want.

[eyediot]

['I care about you' is about as close as Jon gets to confessing anything at this point in time. Something goes tight and sharp in his chest, short of breath for just a moment.

His words come out sounding a bit forced, a little deflated.] It's all right.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ And Algric is still messing this up somehow, isn't he? He can't tell how, but it's obvious enough in Jon's tone, and - god. He's so stupid. So stupid. ]

N-no it's not all right! I hurt you! I -

[ The stress is getting to him by now and he knows it, but he presses on anyway. ]

I want you to care about me. I - I'm still in love with you.