[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 looks down at his food, that redness deepening slightly. ]

Well. Well - then okay. I can't exactly go back to my place, so ...

[eyediot]

Couch is all yours.

Just... Don't make it weird.

[He isn't sure how 'weird' translates here given the circumstances. He knows he's bound to get annoyed with Martin sooner than later, but if it means he can get some answers? And possibly keep an eye on one of his staff closer? He'll take it.]

[curriculum_fictae]

R-right. No weirdness. I can manage that.

[ He laughs, nervously. Completely normal Martin, that's him. No weird feelings or supernatural powers for him. ]

I can pay you back by making dinner?

[eyediot]

You already did.

[In fact, he's pulling his bowl over to start on the soup.]

[curriculum_fictae]

I-I meant making dinner every night I'm here, not just tonight.

[ He continues to work on his own food. ]

[eyediot]

Oh.

[He hadn't... even considered that. He was figuring he'd just fill the fridge with ready meals and call it a day.]

That... could work.

[curriculum_fictae]

I mean, it's the least I can do. I can't exactly pay you, or even buy supplies, or. Or anything like that.

[eyediot]

Don't worry about buying supplies, if I'm eating it then I'm buying the ingredients.

[He also doesn't want to hear you shit-talk him buying the wrong things okay.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Look. Look. He'll be good.

Martin nods, his expression softening into gratitude. ]

Well I'll clean too then. Live-in cook and maid in exchange for room and board?

[eyediot]

[He makes some kind of noise in his throat at that. It's not a pleased noise, but not anger. It's just: eugh.]

When you say it like that it sounds bad. You're my friend crashing with me for a while, that's all.

[curriculum_fictae]

S-sorry. I just -

[ He flushes a bit, turning away. ]

What choice do either of us have, really?

[eyediot]

[Martin why are you like this!!!!

He takes another bite of his toastie, thinking things over.]

I'll give you some money to buy ingredients. You. Probably know what to get better than I do.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jon, he might have some issues with needing to feel useful in the house he lives in.

But he brightens at that suggestion instantly. ]

O-oh, yes. I mean - that way I could go shopping while you're at work and have everything ready for you when you get back.

[eyediot]

['When he gets back' hahahahahahahahahahaha]

Right. Okay! Sounds like we have a plan.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Look. He is not above showing up at the Archive with a homecooked meal in hand. ]

Good. Then. Yes.

[ He takes the last bite of his sandwich. ]

Thank you, Jon.

[eyediot]

... Thank you for answering most of my questions.

[curriculum_fictae]

Sure. I'll keep answering them if you like. As long as I'm stuck here.

[eyediot]

[Yeah, except you kept dodging around one specific question he asked. But he'll circle back around another day.]

You probably need some rest.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Shh. Let a man keep one secret, Jon. ]

That ... that would be nice, yes. If I could borrow a blanket and your couch...?

[eyediot]

[He nods, getting up and heading to the linen closet. He digs out a blanket, a heavy comforter, and a couple extra pillows.]

Of course - help grab these? We'll get you set up.

[curriculum_fictae]

Of course. Let me just -

[ He takes the pillows from Jon carefully and moves to deposit them on the sofa. ]

[eyediot]

[Once that's down, he starts unfurling the blanket and comforter.]

I can give you some cash tonight, I, erm. I don't. Have any extra tooth brushes or anything. Sorry.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ A nervous laugh. ]

And I didn't exactly get a chance to pack, so. I'll just pick up a few more things while I'm out tomorrow?

[eyediot]

Yes.

[Just... Looks at him. He remembers how rough Martin looked after those two weeks stuck in his apartment alone. He hopes this may be better, all things considered. Jane Prentiss is... not a problem now, there's working power and food options here, and he's not alone.]

Whatever you need.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He's still dangerously pale, though the comfort of the evening has brought the slightest hint of pink back to his fingertips. But ... he seems less anxious, at least. ]

R-right. Toothbrush and a change of clothes, then.

[ Since, you know, none of your stuff will fit him. ]