[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]

[ Simple. Yes. And yet, so achingly difficult for someone like Algric, especially one stranded in the past. It’s so perfect that it has to be true. ]

That ... seems right.

[ A small pause. ]

B-but - don’t take this the wrong way - how do I. How do I actually do that?

[eyediot]

Don't really know. I just... I know you're not alone in this. You've got me, and Tim, and.. Yeah, even Martin.

[He gives his hand another squeeze, leaning against him a bit.]

We're all here.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ That gentle little lean brings another smudge of colour back to Algric’s side. Blue now, where his jumper shines through dimly. It’s like Jon is painting with his body. ]

I - I know that, but it’s -

[ He takes a moment to think, to ... really try to phrase this carefully. He doesn’t want to hurt Jon, or act like Tim hasn’t had his own positive effect. They both have. (And Martin can too, if they figure out a way to talk without seeing each other.) And yet. ]

I’m - I’m distinct from Martin, right? I’m a different person.

[eyediot]

[Jon rests against him - he's tired, he's exhausted, and he could probably fall asleep even without eating dinner if he really let himself relax like this - but he's watching the bits of blue swirl like a paint covered brush dipped in water.]

I know. Your experiences and... What you've been through make that so. But. I-i also... want to make sure the Martin here doesn't have to go through any of it and become you either.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Hesitantly, Algric puts his arm around Jon in turn. His whole arm sharpens as it makes contact with Jon’s back. ]

Right. Right, exactly. He’s - he’s different and you want him to stay that way.

[ A deep breath. ]

So ... you’re different from my Jon. And Tim is different from my Tim.

[eyediot]

Right.

[Jon can almost feel the difference in Algric's arm where it makes contact. He really.... really hopes he's on the right track with that and isn't wildly off.]

... What was he like? Th-the me. Of your timeline?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It seems to be working so far. Though, at that question a small chill goes through him. Not enough to completely undo the good Jon is doing, but ... muting him just enough to be noticeable. ]

He’s dead. Permanently, this time.

[eyediot]

[The chill that goes through Algric goes through Jon just as easily, straight down to his core. He watches Algric's face carefully, before letting out a slow breath.]

I'm sorry.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He’s, well. Miserable, of course. But open in a way he wasn’t before. Algric has held back ... a not insignificant amount, and now some of it is coming out. ]

He - I - I did all this to protect him? To try to get some point out of my whole miserable life. I’d already mourned him once and thought I’d - I’d at least try to keep Peter’s attention off him long enough to get him out of the mess we were in but ...

[ His voice drops to a whisper. ]

He came after me in the Lonely. I - I heard him. Tried to disappear. I heard ... an argument, and Peter talking to him. And I heard someone die. It - it had to have been Jon. Going up against Peter in his place of power, i-it’s suicide, and he was only there because - because I was —

[ When did tears start rolling down his cheeks? Some of then spatter on the front of his jumper, while others freeze on his cheeks. ]

[eyediot]

[Jon listens. That's one of the few things he's actually, genuinely good at, listening when someone is distressed, unloading their problems. It may be what makes him a good Archivist taking statements, but it's god for moments like this too. (He's focused on Algric, doesn't even hear the click somewhere muffled nearby, not even a thought in his mind.)

God... Algric's been doing this alone for longer than he'd thought. Trying to save him...

Jon still has to look up to his face, but. He turns, as comfortably as he can, and moves to. To wrap an arm around Algric. It's unpracticed and he's really unsure, but it feels like the right thing to do here. Just. Hold him close.]

I'm sorry. But that didn't happen because of you. He... likely made that decision himself. And he chose you. It must have been worth it to him.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric startles, again, but he’s quicker to lean in. Pulling Jon in as close as he dares, letting out a few more gasping tears as he clings to the smaller man. If he weren’t so cold, he’d be delightfully warm and soft. As it is, it’s a little like hugging a fog bank. ]

Maybe? Maybe, but still, I -

[ Another rattling sob. ]

I can’t mourn you three times. I can’t, Jon. No matter what, you - you have to live this time.

[eyediot]

[Jon lets him cry like that, holding him gently. Ready any moment Algric decides to pull away, but still wanting to try and do this; he's way beyond 'out of his comfort zone' and actively trying to push. Sure, his back hurts, a throbbing soreness with small spikes of pain, and one foot hurts having to support how he's sitting. But it's nothing if it means he can help, even a little.]

You won't. I. I'll do my best to make sure you don't.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric nods against Jon, warming slightly as he goes. ]

That’s all I - all I want. Out of this. Out of this whole bloody misery.

[eyediot]

You deserve more than that. But yes, that's. A good starting point, I think.

[Jon just... Settles to rubbing Algric's back, trying to soothe.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Jon rubs small circles of colour into Algric’s back, then, that slowly bleed over his shoulders. ]

Me? I don’t - I don’t deserve anything. I’d be - I’d be happy to make sure you and Tim live, and Martin doesn’t end up like me, and then - and then disappear.

[ That is, in fact, more or less his plan. ]

[eyediot]

Well.

[HM!! It sounds like Martin's thought a lot about it.]

I'm not happy with that. And I'm sure Tim wouldn't be either. [If Tim's immediate question of 'How can I help' happened when Jon told him what Algric had to do is any indication.]

I don't want you to disappear.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ GEE I wonder why. It is a mystery.

Algric winces a bit at that, but ... can he argue? No. Not really. Not after all their kindness, even when they were skeptical of his humanity. ]

I - I -

[ He swallows thickly. ]

I would like to stay. V-very much. Rooming with you has been - has been lovely, Jon.

[eyediot]

[Hm. Yep, gonna resolve right now to get a bigger place, even if he has to move to a cheaper area.

He gives Algric another soft squeeze.]

It's been... Nice having you living here too.

[Not 'rooming' or 'staying' with. Living with.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Gosh. Algric’s eyes widen; he sure caught that specific phrasing. It brings sharpness back to his face, especially around where he’s blushing. ]

I - I’m trying, you know, I really like - living with someone else? When it’s just me it’s not worth it to cook, or clean, or. Or anything but.

[ He lowers his eyes. ]

I’ll live with you as long as you’ll have me, Jon.

[eyediot]

Good.

[He lets out a soft sigh against Algric's shoulder. He is getting a little uncomfortable - just only because of his back. He grimaces a bit where Algric can't see before gently pulling away, but keeping a hand on him.]

I'd like that.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oops, sorry Jon. Algric carefully pulls away too - but that sharpness remains, especially where Jon keeps a hand on him. He seems ... better in a way that Jon hasn’t seen yet. ]

We’ve - we’ve gotten pretty close in a couple weeks, haven’t we.

[eyediot]

Uh... I. Yes. We have.

[An understatement for the two of them.]

Oh, that reminds me, I got something that I think will help. [He shifts to rifle through his bag and offers a cell phone.] Thought this might help you some. I already put in some of our numbers for you.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric blinks at that for a moment, then takes the phone wordlessly. ]

Oh! Oh, that’s - yes, I do desperately need that. I can’t believe you have an actual landline here, though.

[eyediot]

The flat came with one, so I didn't see the need to change that.

[But okay. Things are... working out. And Algric is looking a lot better... Maybe his theory is on the right track.]

It came in handy anyway.

[curriculum_fictae]

Y-yes, I. I can’t imagine what I’d done if you hadn’t had one. Probably tried to go to the Institute to find you.

[ He shivered at that. ]