[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]

Saying that would mean you have to admit I have good taste.

[You wanna admit that, Tim? This guy?]

[kayakking]

Oh yes, you have fallen head over heels for me. I can tell.

[eyediot]

AS FRIENDS.

[kayakking]

[He just rolls flat onto his back, cracking up loudly.]

[eyediot]

[For his part, Jon takes one hand.

And carefully.

Strategically.

Puts it on Tim's face to shove him.]

[kayakking]

[There's a SQUEAK as his skin catches the air mattress, a scrabble and a THUMP.

There's a faint ow. fuck in there, but it's more reflex than anything, given by the way the laughter redoubles at the absolute absurdity of it all.]

[eyediot]

Shit-- [Jon didn't mean to shove him off the mattress. But as soon as he hears laughter, whatever concept of remorse goes out the window. He moves to look over the side down at him.]

...You did kind of deserve that. A little.

[kayakking]

[He does, in fact, seem fine when Jon peeks over the side. A bit rumpled, a bit tangled in the bedding he took with him. And holding a pillow suspiciously.]

Yeah? So do you.

[Is the warning Jon gets before the pillow gets thrown.]

[eyediot]

[That pillow hits him square in the face; Jon doesn't even move.]

Ha.

[It's enough of a wake up to get him moving to get up and glance at the pile of clothes. And sigh starting to pick through it for proper sleepwear.]

We probably don't want to destroy Martin's home, so we're clear why I'm not returning fire.

[kayakking]

[Tim levers himself up with his good arm and sets on the edge of the bed. He watches Jon pick through the clothes but- honestly doesn't really try to stop him. Jon had decided not to sleep earlier. Only so much one can do.]

Cowed by my power level. I get it.

[eyediot]

[He pulls out his sleep shirt and bottoms, already feeling infinitely better for this whole arrangement having them here.]

If that's what helps you sleep tonight.

[kayakking]

I think that's your assigned job, not mine.

[eyediot]

Pretty sure my assigned job is making sure you all do yours.

[He's still your boss, monster-in-the-making or not.]

[kayakking]

Ohh? Right. What's my job right now, boss?

[eyediot]

Keeping the three of us from spiraling.

[It could be lighthearted enough as a joke. But there's the underlying seriousness that... He knows if the three of them were left to their own devices? They would feed into each others' neuroses and crash each other.

Tim's good at both levity and redirection. Something Jon deeply appreciates.]

[kayakking]

[He absolutely was going to answer whatever Jon was going to answer with where he could shove it.]

Ah.

[He settles, softening a bit.]

Yeah. You got it, boss.

[eyediot]

[He smiles, extending one open, tentative hand.]

Thank you, Tim. I don't know anyone else I can trust with that.

[kayakking]

[Yeah, he has no problems closing the gap there, wrapping up Jon's scarred hand with his own.]

Good thing it's so easy to appeal to my ego. [It's a soft deflection, a safe place to curl around that declaration of trust after those long months. It's a bit greed. It's a bit relief. It's all good to have.]

But yeah... Got a lot of interest in keeping things steady.

[eyediot]

[Jon clasps his other hand over Tim's, sandwiching it gently.]

Whatever you need from me to do that... Let me know. Even if-if it's to sock me across the jaw.

[He definitely feels he's earned that at least.]

[kayakking]

Yeah, I don't think that's gonna be an issue.

[A pause.]

... So if it helps, I'd already started a good deal of cathartic petty revenge in lieu of a good punch.

Frankly, making sure all of the stables were on the bottom right probably hurt a lot more.

[eyediot]

..........Of course that was you.

[kayakking]

Officially? I deny everything. Never touched a stapler in my life.

[eyediot]

Oh, I'm sure.

[Why are they friends. Why did this golden retriever of a man bother talking to him back in Research, why did he go along with any of it. He'd be lying to himself if he tried to say he didn't love the guy even a little.]

I would never dream of accusing you of such horrible office mutiny.

[kayakking]

See? We're all in agreement.

[Just poking endlessly at the hedgehog until friends or defeat. And even as that over-confident, smug declaration happens, his hand squeezes Jon's warmly.]

[eyediot]

[The hedgehog who is... still fairly relaxed, all things considered. Who knew having validation that he did something Good would have such a positive effect on his mood.

He squeezes Tim's hand once before pulling away and looking at the clothes over his arm.]

Should probably change.