[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

[secreteary]

[Tim can find Martin putting sundries and necessities for the others away in the bathroom, tidying and cleaning as he goes. he's almost too big for the small bathroom, in an almost humorous way.

Martin smiles a little when he spots Tim.]

Hey. Doing alright?

[kayakking]

[Tim leans in the doorframe, watching the bustle.]

No complaints. Need any help?

[secreteary]

I've just about got it. You're fine.

[he puts down the bottle of cleaner he was holding and raises one eyebrow at Tim.]

How's the arm?

[kayakking]

Amendment. One complaint. But a minor one.

[And that's that. Issue done and closed as far as Tim is concerned. Where's the sling? Somewhere.]

Speaking of, [His voice lowers, both with the seriousness of it and so it doesn't pitch across the room. This conversation is coming, and it's best Martin isn't blindsided.] We're only down to one walking wounded.

[secreteary]

[disapprovingly:]

I'd argue two, but you're not going to listen.

[then Martin pointedly turns away, pretending to spritz and clean the mirror.]

I thought I'd let Algric take care of it, anyway.

[kayakking]

[Martin can see Tim glance back out towards Algric and Jon with something bordering anxiety through the reflection. He looks back at Martin, and his expression eases back into that composed delivery.]

Yeaaah. The problem is that the down to one is counting me.

He's healed up.

[secreteary]

[Martin blinks rapidly in confusion, frowning as that sets in. he stops mid-swipe of the mirror.]

...Sorry? That's not possible.

[kayakking]

[He gives a reluctant half shrug. He... doesn't know what Martin does and doesn't know, really. This might be a heavier one.]

It shouldn't be. It's a marker of how far he's gotten along.

[He doesn't mean to look at Martin's hand, but he can't quite help it with it paused up there. It leaves an unspoken implication: just like Martin is moving ahead.]

[secreteary]

[it's more like denial.

Martin drops the towel in the sink and leans over it, face in one hand.]

...How could he have helped Algric, otherwise.

[he looks at Tim, and his expression is a bit haunted.]

What's your point? It's not like we can undo it.

[kayakking]

[He knows. He damn well knows Martin knows. They both heard it at the same time. It's a long moment deciding if he's going to push there or let go for now.

He gives a faint shake of his head, his shoulders dropping a bit with the sigh.]

How are you doing in all this?

[secreteary]

[that's certainly a loaded question. with no easy answer, surely.

Martin looks at himself in the mirror and scowls.]

...I don't know. There are bits I don't like thinking about.

[kayakking]

... Are the bits most of it? Because I'm going to be real here. It's most of it, for me.

[secreteary]

[dammit, Tim, stop being right.]

...Yeah. It is.

[Martin pointedly turns away from the mirror, leaning against the sink so that he doesn't have to look.]

Which is bothering you the most, right now?

[kayakking]

[He crosses his arms and leans on the doorjam. The texts that initially brought him here are definitely still heavy on the mind.]

Right now? ... Sort of realizing you've got the shit end in all of this, this go round.

[secreteary]

[Martin opens his mouth to argue, but decides against it and takes a second to frown at the wall like everything is its fault.]

Yeah, well. I'm used to that.

[he shrugs, even adding a half-hearted grin and chuckle.]

Maybe not this intensely terrible, but.

[kayakking]

Right? We've blown right past run of the mill terrible.

I've, you know, I've been worried. Like a lot worried.

[secreteary]

It's really hard to not be.

I'm. I'm worried about all of us. You, too. Not just the arm-- That you got caught up in all of this.

[kayakking]

I'm not entirely sure there was a way to not be involved.

[There wasn't MISSING Not!Sasha.]

[secreteary]

Well. ...Yeah, true.

[Martin sighs.]

I just. I dunno what to do. I don't know how to keep everyone safe, but also do what we have to. With The Unknowing, with Elias...

[he swallows thickly, raising his left hand to look at it.]

And...what's happening to us.

[kayakking]

[He watches what he can see of Martin's hand move, expression clouding.]

We've at least got time with the Unknowing.

The rest we just...

You seem better? [It wasn't going AWAY... but it wasn't anywhere near it was last night.]

[secreteary]

Yeah.

[there's a bit of fidgeting on Martin's part.]

I'm sorry. Ab-about last night.

[kayakking]

[He shakes his head.]

You weren't doing it on purpose.

[secreteary]

[muttering darkly:]

Still embarrassing.

[kayakking]

You realize you have seen my ass. Literally.

[LITERALLY high on fumes and in the middle of a worm invasion. NOT HIS FINEST MOMENT.]

... Not to mention that one Christmas Party.

[secreteary]

That's a little different, Tim.

[he can't help but grin just a little bit even turning a bit pink.]

Not a bad arse, though.