[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]

[The thing that held Jonathan Sims together broke that night in the hospital. Tim didn't visit, Algric had left him alone to be with Martin, and Martin... Well, he ruined that. He'd been quiet in that ward, but he broke alone there. And then carefully put himself back together.

There are so, so many bigger things around him, around all of them, that he can't allow himself to be broken. But there are still so many cracks and it feels like everything is pressing down on them, trying to crack it further. Like a broken vase threatening to break irreparably if it falls again. The idea that - that office romance is what breaks him feels absurd in the shadow of monstrous fear entities and their murderous boss and actual, literal monsters. There's no reason that something so fucking human and base should be what gets to him. But it is. And he can't help it.

Jon chances a look up at Tim, eyes shining and wet before he blinks rapidly, then takes his glasses off to rub at the corners of his eyes. He's right on the verge.]

Then. [God, he can barely get the words out with how thick his throat feels trying to keep it together.] Th-then I suppose I have thinking to do. So I can figure that out.

[kayakking]

Yeah. [He breathes the word.

There was so much he could say. So much he should say, but it all gets clogged up by that look on Jon's face. God, under all of that stiff upper lip was a maelstrom of 'gives every damn' and if he had half the sense he'd-

No, no, that exactly what he's saying. Tim's just been shit at hearing it.

Then, hesitantly,] You know you aren't- don't have to be alone in that.

[eyediot]

[Jon draws in a slow breath, and lets it out carefully but can't even hide the shudder it comes with. He's trying to bring himself down (because Tim has the right of it, his damned pride). Too much too fast and he's trying to put at least half the emotional dam back up because this isn't really the place to be a mess. (But then if not here, then where.)

To his credit, his voice only sounds a little broken.] Thank you, Tim.

[kayakking]

[There's a moment of unconscious reach towards Jon's hand again and- he catches himself, remembering Jon's reactions earlier, and withdraws.]

God. ... Good luck though. Seriously. Like... all of you deserve to be happy. I'm pretty sure you can make it work. I wouldn't be putting all this in if I didn't think so.

[eyediot]

[Jon sees it and - hey no. He breaches that divide and reaches for Tim's hand in turn.]

I... do hope you're not counting yourself out of that. Because you deserve that too.

[kayakking]

[There's a moment of surprise at that. He shifts his hand just a little to wrap around Jon's, a small, warm smile.]

Man, I like to think so. Someday, maybe.

[eyediot]

[Jon sort of has an inkling about Tim and Sasha. It's not really his business, never was, but he still sort of knew. He uses his free hand to turn his chair to properly face Tim.]

I know so. You'll survive this. Retake the publishing industry by storm, find the person of your dreams and sweep them off their feet with your rapier sharp wit and carefully practiced impressions and... Be happy.

[kayakking]

[....

And for a second, he can kinda see it. What the Martins must be seeing and.

Dammit. This kind idiot.]

Not aiming small, huh. Why not? Full sweep, add a 'signs a best selling author' to it. Fuck all of the fears, we'll be happy in spite of them.



....

Though I now have on record you appreciate my impressions.

[eyediot]

[Yeah, sorry, Tim. There is a truly kind, empathetic person underneath the emotional wall.]

Wow and look at that, you're signing movie rights too.

And you can't prove that.

[kayakking]

Shit, I'm now done with the line work. Time to dedicate solely to niche projects.

But we can't leave it there. Where does Jon end up after he emerges from the Diggly and Blackwood cloud of fussing?

[DON'T THINK WE'RE NOT COMING BACK TO THE IMPRESSION CONFESSION.]

[eyediot]

...Don't know. I... Never gave it much thought, really.

[kayakking]

[There's a squeeze of Jon's hand there.]

I mean, you'll have the rest of your life to work it out. Who knows, nice cushy government job? Teaching? Wait, comprehensive treatise on the paranormal and why no one should mess with any of them anymore.

[eyediot]

[Jon huffs out half a laugh at that.]

Yes, I'll just give it in my official Ted Talk.

[Teaching though.......Hm. Maybe only college. The thought of teaching anyone under the legal drinking age is an exhausting thought.]

[kayakking]

I will get that talk on as many media as possible. There will be no way to destroy the all evidence.

1/2

[eyediot]

If it's to warn people to stay away from this kind of mess, by all means. Show it in every university, it should be known.

[eyediot]

[He's. Still holding onto Tim's hand, but the smile does go a bit more reflective.]

Do you regret it, Tim? That I asked you to... Come see if you could see Algric?

[kayakking]

No.

[It's so immediate it's nearly out before he'd had even much time to examine it. Though it didn't take much consideration to settle a bit further. Even with twisted memories, lack of sleep and that ever present throb below the stitches... ]

No... Good lord. But since Prentiss, god, all I've wanted was someone I could bloody talk to about all of this.

I'm... whatever this is going to be- [He shakes his head.] It's better like this, yeah?

[eyediot]

[Jon watches him, then smiles a little lopsided and squeezes his hand.]

...I think I needed that too. S-someone to. Talk to about all this.

I mean, it's not good. All of this is bad, but. Better to. Be in it together, I think.

[kayakking]

Right? It'd be so much better if we were just working the nice, weird but not fatal job we thought we were in.

...

But it's- We can do this.

[eyediot]

[He takes a deep, steadying breath. Idly thumbing at Tim's hand, not even realizing he's doing it. It's just something keeping his hand busy.]

I agree. We will do this. And we'll all make it out. I won't let you die, Tim.

[kayakking]

[Tim feels his face and ears warm before he even processes the one-two hit of that. The man's a menace. An absolute menace. The only good thing is how absolutely oblivious he is.

Fine, he's just going to enjoy it. And rallies a bit.]

Keep that in mind yourself. Apparently, we were a two for one special.

Lets just... be smarter about this time, if we can.

[eyediot]

[Yeah, sorry, Tim. He has literally no idea what he's unconsciously doing. It doesn't help when he looks up at Tim and his eyes are clear, and. Pretty intense, given the subject matter.]

...Yes. Let's. Don't, uh. Don't much like the idea of me dying either.

[kayakking]

[That is... a look.

Fuck.

... Tim would like to go back to like, ten minutes ago when he was blissfully unaware of literally anything that could make this trainwreck of a person attractive.

But at least the topic gives him an excuse to pull his hand back (though he can still feel the idle path of that thumb) and run his own hand through his hair.]

There's at least months to plan. But at the rate he actually talks about it, might need all of that time to get the details as to why we die.

[And if there IS a better way.]

[eyediot]

[Ah. Physical comfort action completed, that's... Over. He does sort of feel at a loss of what to do with his hands now, though. So he settles for just. thumbing along the seam of the armrest.]

Yes, he's... It was easy to get him to talk about things when he didn't realize where he was when he first showed up. But I think... Now he's more afraid of maybe messing things up worse. So we just... Need to carefully plan and ...I-i dunno. Reassure him we definitely won't do anything stupid.

[Jon.]

[kayakking]

I'm sitting here with you on the very same page as you and hearing that just shot an INSTANT sense of alarm that you're going to do something stupid.

[DEAD ASS SAID OUTRIGHT.]

No. Nope. What we have to do is convince him that without the information we are definitely going to be even MORE stupid than previously thought.