[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]

[It's a casual look over Jon (... though there's a quirk of a smile at Jon in pjs this ill fitting.) Sure, some of the edges are softer, but that deep line of sleeplessness...]

Didn't manage to get much, huh? 'Preciate it, though.

[The worst part is that it's such a casual thing, unloaded and guileless. Just in the tone of 'yeah, that happens.']

[eyediot]

[Jon's eyes focus on Tim warily. (Seen, being seen, Tim could always see right through his shit even in Research-) Then sighs back down into his breakfast.]

Had some things on my mind.

[secreteary]

[finally done with washing most of the dishes, Martin grabs his own plate and heads over to the small kitchen table, sitting down and frowning, concerned, at Jon.]

Like what?

[eyediot]

[Jon glances at Martin, something about him going soft before he pokes at his ham.]

When I go back to the Institute, I have to make a statement. Not sure what I'll say. Or if I even have a choice in it.

[kayakking]

[Tim lifts his head at that, chews a bit faster and swallows. Ah, going right into the heavy.

He nods lightly to Martin.]

Part of what I was texting you about.

[secreteary]

[god, those texts. they feel like a million years ago at this point. what had Tim said?]

So...this is a problem.

[there's no hint of a question, even though Martin can't quite remember the details of the texts. instead, it's said with the weight of dread.]

Is there anything we can do?

[eyediot]

...Not really.

[He glances over at Algric, still asleep, then back to his plate. He's glad he grabbed the smallest plate.]

Elias did the same thing to him. Except he has before the end of the week. We're going together.

[kayakking]

I still think destroying the damn place before deadline should be an option on the table.

At the same time's a bigger risk.

[eyediot]

I agree, but I don't know what would happen if we did that.

[Would destroying the Institute kill Elias? Would they all die? He wants more information first. And the Archives is the only place to get it.]

Besides that, we still have to stop the Unknowing as well.

[kayakking]

[This is a strongly disgruntled noise, and Tim gets up from the table to go hunt down a kettle and something caffeinated.]

All right, but why's that our task? We're glorified librarians.

[secreteary]

[Tim...makes an uncomfortably good point. it's a very sobering thought, but.]

Because we're probably...the only ones who know it's happening. What it means if it succeeds. And...we have ways to figure out to stop it.

[...]

At least, that's how it seems to me.

[eyediot]

[Jon rubs at his mouth and sits back a bit.]

Right? Who else even knows about this? Have we heard of any other groups trying to stop this?

[kayakking]

We haven't heard of it at all.

[He glances over to Martin, then back to Jon. With a careful half shrug, he adds:]

Martin and I were going to do some research at work- but well...

[Everything escalated real quickly.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ When had Algric reawakened? Recently, for sure; he'd been so desperately and thoroughly asleep that he'd been completely dead to the world until he'd found himself alone in it, the sheets cooling around him. (He'd had a big meal to digest, and ... well, the Lonely was a part of him now. He was both desperately grateful for the cuddle pile and rather weak to it.)

After that, it had been nice to listen to the others. Tim, Jon, and Martin, all together again. Working on a problem like they had in the old days, before Elias had made sure they would never work together again. That was fine and well and good and entirely the point of him coming here, as much as he'd had any point in coming here.

But it made the lines of their relationships clear, he thought. The three of them together, Algric outside of it. That was ... good. Natural. It was what he wanted, right?

He sits up, slowly, tugging the scarf down for a moment. He's careful not to look over at the trio. ]

It - it doesn't matter. There aren't any groups who are out there trying to help. Outside of you three, anyone who knows is just - just a monster with their own agenda.

[eyediot]

[Jon jerks a little at Martin's voice coming from across the room. How long has he been awake and listening?

...Had he not felt welcome?

That won't do.

Jon sets his fork on his plate - only half eaten despite being the first up - and goes to Algric. Kneels down in front of him to look him in the eyes with some modicum of understanding - the situation, their two particular circumstances, of the dangers they're going to face going back in? - before taking both his hands to tug him up and bring him to the table. The fourth plate is already set out at the empty chair for him.]

Come on, you're joining us. You're part of this.

[curriculum_fictae]

J-Jon, no, I'm not --

[ Hungry, he wants to say, but the sheer kindness of that gesture takes him by surprise. Eyes squeezed shut, he can only follow helplessly as Jon steers him back to the table, tugs him to the chair and that place setting. Only after he's sitting does he dare to open one eye, then the other.

The sight of a simple breakfast laid out in front of him - of his place being there already, just like the other three - makes him flush a bit, pink returning to his cheeks and ears. He takes the fork and slowly cuts into his ham, head bowed low both out of embarrassment and to make sure he doesn't see Martin directly. ]

I didn't want to interrupt.

[kayakking]

[With as fixed as he is on the plate, Algric can hardly see the jaunty little salute with a sausage-laden fork, but the tone from Tim is the light teasing that os the standard for welcoming from Tim.]

Right? There's no getting rid of us now.

[secreteary]

[wow, it sure is a unique experience to be seen, and to see. Martin watches Algric, anxiety spiking for a moment seeing him without any kind of blindfold, but Algric sitting down with that body language is like a sign written with letters two feet tall. Martin can hazard a pretty good guess at several things.]

...We can't do this without you.

[mmm... that's not quite enough.]

You belong.

[with that, Martin grabs his own plate and leaves the kitchen area, sitting down on the air mattress with breakfast in his lap.]

It's safe to look up.

[eyediot]

[Jon hasn't even sat back down yet only for Martin to be moving.

God. Damn it.]

Noooo.

[He follows and puts a hand on Martin's shoulder. He's already tired of this game.]

You too.

[Tim, help.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric appreciates the welcome, truly - as evidenced by the way he sharpens a bit under Tim and Jon's and Martin's attention. But. He doesn't want it at Martin's expense, dammit. He fumbles to get the blindfold back in place over his eyes. ]

You - you belong too. I'm not going to stay if it means replacing you, Martin. So you. You have to stay.

[secreteary]

[how embarrassing. Martin turns red and manages to sputter out:]

I was just worried about you looking up! That's all!

[kayakking]

Just yell at Algric to take care of himself, like the rest of us do.

[A shit eating grin as he starts rummaging through entirely the wrong cupboards for the mugs.]

Welcome to the loving and enjoying a Martin in your life experience.

[eyediot]

[Jon's still watching Martin carefully before gently pulling him up, and taking his plate.]

You are stuck with us, for better or worse.

[Also don't forget, Martin, he's still your boss too.]

[curriculum_fictae]

I-it's fine, I've got the blindfold back on.

[ He'll address the practical since Tim and Jon have the emotional covered. ]

I - I should really figure out some way to look at you safely, anyway. Maybe I can get used to it if I look at you enough?

[itsfreemealestate]

Is that your plan?

[There's a laugh. It's voice Algric knows well, and Jon likely only dreams about. There's a reverb that shudders on painful, that roots in the chest and bursts into flowers behind the eyes and threatens the sinuses and ears with pressure.

There's a door beside the bedroom door, yellow.

S HE sits primly on the edge of the couch Martin had just been guided back away from. ]

But I would love to watch you try.