[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]

[ That ... that's strange, isn't it? Martin blinks slowly. ]

I figured you hadn't, but - that's still -

Tim didn't, did he?

[eyediot]

No, he was in Sasha's office at the time.

[curriculum_fictae]

How did Not-Sasha get so far, then ...

[eyediot]

I don't know.

It just... happened so suddenly...

[curriculum_fictae]

...

If - if we both have to go back there, maybe we should go at roughly the same time. You with the statement first, and. And me after.

[eyediot]

...That might be best, yes.

[...Ugh now he's dreading going up and down the Archive stairs with these feet. Is there even an elevator there so he could use a chair? If Algric has to go by the end of the week, there's no way he can walk.

He'll figure it out. If it means helping Algric, he'll deal with it.]

All right. Let's do that.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon. But this is the only thing he can think of. ]

Right. Right. If we can get something out of this, at least...

[eyediot]

[He sighs softly and... Tries not to think too hard about what's coming for the both of them.

He has a feeling it won't be pleasant.]

So... Go in together. And... Hopefully leave together.

['Hopefully'.]

[curriculum_fictae]

Yes. That's - that's the plan.

[ A deep breath. ]

But don't wait for me.

[eyediot]

What if I do?

[The moment the words come out of his mouth, he already knows the answer. Doesn't have to use anything from the Eye to figure it out: Elias will know it was some kind of plan and look into it. Jon's face scrunches a bit at the realization before he sighs.]

... Right. I just... go back home. And wait.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. That ... actually gets a lovesick look? You're an idiot, Jon, but it's a nice gesture. ]

That - that would be safer. Yes.

[eyediot]

[He resolves right then and there to give Algric his mobile before they both go in. Or a throwaway. Something. God, why hadn't he done that sooner?]

...I'm not particularly good at sitting and waiting.

[curriculum_fictae]

I am well aware of that, Jon.

[ He still sounds dimly lovesick. ]

[eyediot]

So you understand how hard it is to accept that's what you're asking me to do.

[curriculum_fictae]

Yes, I. I know. Probably you won't listen this time either.

[eyediot]

I-I... I could listen.

[Okay well, maybe Future Martin learned something and that's to appeal to Jon's spiteful stubbornness.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Huh. That is new, isn't it. ]

I'll believe it when I see it.

[eyediot]

[GOD he's. Ugh. If nothing else, he wants to prove against all Algric's doubts. So yeah. He'll go home. He'll wait. Even if it kills him.

But. Jon reaches out to the blurry blob of Algric, one open hand for his to take his fingertips.]

I will.

But. You have to come home when it's done.

[The words just... Happen. The smallest trace of a thread, and for just a second, for a breath, Algric's outline is clear to him like this. Then... he blinks. And like that it's all bad vision blurred again.

Probably just the medications.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric is startled enough by the gesture to let him. Again, colour blooms, bringing physicality back to his faded fingers.

The compulsion slides in beautifully, curling around him like a band of light around his head. Jon can see Algric in full: pale save for his hand, which nearly seems to glow pink around where Jon has made contact. Limp roan curls. And ... an utterly fond expression, set off by a pink blush. God, he loves you so much.

He nods, slowly, as the vision fades. ]

To your flat? Is - is that home?

[ What a nice thought that is. ]

[eyediot]

Uh... Well. Yes. [Where else is home?

He has no idea what he's done. He'll surely feel horrid for it if he ever realizes.]

[curriculum_fictae]

I - I just wanted to be sure. It just seems ... permanent.

[ He seems dimly giddy at the thought. ]

[eyediot]

...Maybe.

[He's not denying the thought.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Gosh, Jon. Algric pinks all the way down his neck. ]

W-well - well fine. I'll come home. To your flat. I promise.

[eyediot]

[It really is a shame he took his glasses off earlier. All these choice expressions and blushes he's missed.

He sighs, and rests his head back, still watching Algric's direction.]

Good. ...Thank you.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric squeezes his hand hard. ]

Of course, Jon.