[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]

[ Martin's got the fussing covered, which leaves Algric to deal with the answers. He doesn't Know the same way Jon does, of course, but ... an avatar of the Lonely has a very keen awareness when someone has left your space. Yes, Michaelen is definitely not here at the moment. ]

W-well - well still, we shouldn't waste it. If we can. The food, I mean.

[ Not that he's super hungry, of course, though he will try for the sake of appearances. ]

The - the Distortion definitely left. Yet. We're alone again.

[eyediot]

Yes, it's... Gone.

[He confirms it behind Algric. He does just Know it. Once the rubbish bin is set out, Jon sits on the floor and leans back against the cabinet. He just needs a minute.]

Not exactly how I thought we'd spend this morning.

[kayakking]

[He makes a small, appreciative noise at Martin's gesture. It's certainly something that helps brace him at least emotionally.]

Okay. Okay good.

[He puts a hand on the bin but doesn't move otherwise. He is, at least, thankful for the company.]

...

[He's quiet. There's not the anger Algric remembers, or even the dull resignation that marked his exhaustion. Just a real careful question, more the neutrality of someone who hasn't quite worked out their own feelings yet.]

That x-factor healing what helped you all deal with ... that. Or something else?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Ah. That's ... a relevant question, isn't it. Since Martin has the fussing covered, Algric sits back down at his place. Not eating, just watching with a worried expression on his face. And making sure not to look at Martin. ]

Yes. I - I think so. It's subtle, but ...

[ He gestures, helpfully, between all four of them. ]

A-as you can see, I'm. Not particularly affected any more.

[eyediot]

[It's. Well, it's nearly impossible to hide the sound of being sick. But Jon has the decency to gently take the bin from Tim's grasp and turn away so he doesn't see it. A couple heaves and he tries to get his breath again, then sits back.

Okay. Okay, he's fine. That's about all his stomach can handle. Jon wipes at the blood dripping down the front of his face and looks at it on his hand. He's starting to get the feeling... He won't be well liked in the Archivist position.]

That's.. Good, for now probably.

[secreteary]

[oh no!!!

another cold dish towel, placed gently on the back of Jon's neck. then when he's sure that it will stay, Martin gets up to get cold water for Jon, too. oh yes, and a paper towel for that nosebleed.

he moves to Jon and kneels next to him, handing him the paper towel and placing the glass of water on the floor in Jon's view and reach.

standing up, he goes to Tim and puts a hand on his shoulder.]

Does anything need anything? Algric? You say you're okay, but...

[kayakking]

[Poor bastard. Tim winces at the retching, but - the consideration seemed to allow him to keep his own stomach, if just barely. Whatever that Michael ... Helen... amalgamation did had to have been... worse. Definitely worse.

He waves off the concern and just, drops a hand on Martin's lightly. A reassuring pat, given he wasn't feeling up to moving.]

Nah, I've uh.. got this. Just a second.

[Then, quietly, to Martin.] You okay, man?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric looks down at the poor, forgotten breakfast. This had been very nice for a moment. Shame he'd clearly tempted Michaelen into showing up and torpedoing it. ]

I'm - I'm fine, Martin. Truly. I think I'm the most fine person here.

[ He means that genuinely. ]

Jon you should - you should sit down. We should all sit down and just. Take it easy this morning.

[ Algric keeps head turned away, carefully avoiding catching any glimpses of Martin fussing about. ]

[eyediot]

[Jon shifts the bin over to Tim and rests his head back against the cabinet again. This time, he takes the damp cold towel from the back of his neck and proceeds to unfold it. Then lay it over his entire face. Anything to cool himself down from that.]

I'm-- I'm sitting. No worries there. I'll head back over i-in a minute.

[He touches at his shoulder, where Michael had stabbed him two weeks prior with one of his finger-knives. It's healed up all right, but he can't help the reflexive need to press at it.]

...So the... Helen portion. That was from your time in the future, Algric?

[Maybe he Knew, maybe he picked up context clues.]

[curriculum_fictae]

Y-yes. That's - who the Distortion is in my time. Michael is gone, probably.

[ He takes in a deep breath. ]

We were ... friends. Sort of. Mostly I didn't have anyone else. A-and when I was trapped in the Lonely, it was her door that showed up in it. She must have brought me here.

[eyediot]

...I see.

[That... There had to be some other reason it brought Algric here. Some ultimate ulterior reason, it can't have just been out the goodness of what was left of a heart.

Once it's clear he's settled, Jon starts carefully pushing himself back up. Better to not dawdle on the floor.]

You trusted it enough to take a door, and just now to ask it questions. So I'll trust your judgement. I just... [His voice goes a little soft, watching Algric worried.] I didn't want to risk it potentially doing more damage to you...

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh yes, Algric is sure of that as well. He looks down at his hands quietly. ]

I ... trust is a strong word. I was desperate, mostly.

[ He rubs at his face. ]

Probably - probably better to let you do it. If. If you still want to.

[eyediot]

[He stops next to Algric, resting both hands on the chair in front of him to steady himself. But his eyes focus on Algric. (And strange that, when was Algric not just a blur without his own glasses? He sees him just fine.)]

I wouldn't have asked you to let me if I didn't want to try.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sharp and clear, or at least as sharp and clear as Martin gets. He blinks up at Jon in return, actually able to focus with him that close. He doesn't have magical vision, after all. ]

Now?

[eyediot]

[Jon locks eyes with him, squeezing his grip on the chair. He's so, so unsure. But if he doesn't do it now, he'll talk himself out of it later.]

If you're all right with it.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric can see that too; he's guilty of the same. So, instead, he steels himself, taking in a deep breath. ]

Let's - let's try it. Then. Please.

[eyediot]

[Jon nods. And... He has no idea how to actually do this. Or how to start.

He steps closer to him, hesitating for just a moment before resting both hands on Algric's shoulders. Algric's still taller, Jon still has to look up at him, but it's fine. He swallows and... What even should he say? Compulsions are whatever he says? He has to word it carefully.]

I-i... Algric. [He clears his throat. Still keeps his focus on him, but. Just thinking about it.... He doesn't know the full context of the compulsion itself, he can only work off what little he knows.]

I wish you could forget what Elias makes you see. And that you should see yourself the way I see you.

[The words reach in, dig deep into where Elias' perfect, purely artistic way of fitting his words into Algric's brain, his whole way of thinking. And gently tug at its restraints. It's hard, doing it while not damaging Algric. Jon is visibly pained, but forcing his way through while trying to be delicate about it. Seconds stretch across deep canyons as he works until finally... It's free. And a new groundwork is laid. It's softer, and less finessed as Elias' handiwork, but it's solid. The knowledge and compulsion that Algric can not only see himself, but the way Jon sees him: as Algric himself, with a bit more softness. A little more brightness, a slightly more romantic look to Algric.

Jon is breathless when he feels like it's done. The feeling of the words are out of him and feel settled. He rests his temple against Algric's cheek taking deep, slow breaths.]

I think... I don't know for sure if it worked, but. I think I'm done.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Oh.

At some point during Jon peering into his head, Algric begins to cry. They're silent tears, not unhappy ones, just - a release of pressure? Some pain, sure, as Elias's compulsion is going to fight on the way out no matter what. But Jon's replacement compulsion is so soft, so gentle. It smooths away the burns that Elias's violation left, leaving something gentle and warm.

He lifts his hands to his face, covering his mouth. Eyes shining. He can see his reflection in Jon's eyes, snd it seems ... it seems ...

Well, he barely dares to look. As Jon leans down, he squeezes his eyes shut, tears still streaming down his face. ]

It - it feels different. It feels good.

[ With aching slowness, he cracks his eyes open again. Tilts his head towards Martin and ... stares at him. Automatically, he cringes - but there's no pain. No burning, just ... love? Affection, softness. His eyes go wide as he realises he's staring at Martin with nothing bad happening. ]

[eyediot]

[As soon as it's over, Jon waits. He lets Algric take his time. But it looks and sounds like there's relief. And then no... horrible reaction to Algric looking at Martin.

That's good, right?

That's good.

There's relief on Jon's end as well, smiling up at him.]

Good. Good, it... It worked, then.

[One minute, he's staring up at Algric's relieved, unpained face. The next, his world's tilting and it goes dark.]

1/2

[secreteary]

[watching all of this closely, there's a pang in Martin's chest that he can't identify; a clutching at his heart that he can't name. it doesn't quite feel like happiness for Algric, but it doesn't quite feel like jealousy for Jon's attention, either. he's glad, though, on a more surface level. truly. for both personal and shallow reasons.

relief spreads through the room like a welcome breeze, all tension from Helen's arrival and Jon's compulsion attempt completely dispersed. he sees the tears on Algric's face and Martin manages a small but genuine smile for him.

2/2

[secreteary]

[but then Jon starts falling like a ton of bricks.

cool.

it feels like it's happening in slow motion, just enough that Martin can act on the impulse to run and dive, reaching his arms out as far as they'll stretch and hoping desperately that he'll keep Jon from hitting the floor--]

[curriculum_fictae]

Jon!

[ Algric realises what's happening a moment after Martin does, and he dives at nearly the same angle, just coming from the opposite direction. Between the two of them they keep him from hitting the floor too hard --

And bonks his head into Martin's on the way down. ]

[secreteary]

[a strangled sort of noise comes out of Martin when he collides with Algric that's hard enough to daze him for a moment.

the two of them succeeded in catching Jon, his head only centimeters from the floor and lolling backwards, since Martin is supporting Jon's upper back.

Martin shakes the fog of the impact and sputters:]

Algric, a-are you alright? [???????!!!?!?!]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric will get his head, then, after he stifles a curse at hitting his own head. ]

F-fine, I'm - I'm fine, I -

[ Since Jon is safe, he manages to look at Martin again. And once again, he's surprised by swell of warmth that rises up like a blush in his face. ]

He fixed me.

[secreteary]

[as this is the first time they've properly looked at each other, the surreal nature of Algric being in their lives really penetrates Martin's mind in a way it hadn't before.

it's bizarre beyond words. but...by now, Martin has accepted Algric's presence, for better or worse, so he's able to wrap his head around it far more easily than if he'd been able to look at Algric since the beginning.]

Then- That's brilliant.

[Martin smiles.]

I'm. That's wonderful for you. [a small chuckle.] It's nice to properly meet you? Bit awkward way to do it, though.

[he sighs, then starts carefully lifting Jon.]

But we can worry about that later. Let's get him on the air mattress.