curriculum_fictae | [PSL-Adjacent] time travel side story

[PSL-Adjacent] time travel side story

[ Is this part of the other PSL? MAYBE ... tbd.

But - this is the Martin who went back in time to the second season, before everything really started going to hell. It hasn't been the most pleasant ride - seeing himself, accidentally triggering Not-Sasha's attack, the confrontation with Elias - but it's been better. He'd begged Michaelen not to take him back for multiple reasons. Yes, he thinks help more here, but ... he also doesn't want to go home to die. Not when there's a Jon here who's willing to love him, when Tim is blossoming into a new best friend, and even Martin is slowly moving towards self-acceptance in a literal sense.

For the first time in months, Martin - no, Algric - sees the shape of what a peaceful life could be. This could be a world where he lives in Jon's flat for the rest of his life, where he doesn't only have to be a helpful ghost. The Lonely is still too strong in him, but he feels it weakening in spots, where Tim and Jon and Martin have all helped him remember what it's like to have human connection.

That's why he's here at Hilltop Road. He dares to hope now; he dares to consider the possibility that he might get to keep all of this. And if he wants to keep this, he has to make sure there's no way back to the hell he left. Michaelen's appearance had scared him more deeply than he wants to let on.

As he mounts the steps to the rickety old house, Algric takes in a shivering breath. It's fine. It's fine, this is fine, he's just - just going to look. And if there's a creepy basement with a crack in the world, he's not going to go through it! He's just going to. See if it's there or not. If he thinks his timeline is on the other side or not. ]

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[Jon watches him, just to... be sure. No second guesses. He squeezes Algric's hand and shifts to look at him properly, the green going over his eyes.

He sees the fog there. The all-encompassing fog surrounding him, covering like a blanket. Where Elias would rip through it with no remorse or care, Jon carefully peels back a small corner. Just to peek. There are other threads: a snaking, swirling spiral of curls; the ice cold core of the Lonely; and of course that green, ever present Eye on the lookout, wanting to not be seen. It works in perfect tandem with the Lonely's fog, really. He sees.... some slapdash work on his mind, a healing wound with a softer bandage over it. His past-self's handiwork, looks like. He wonders what happened there.

But.

He blinks, the green gone and swallows.]

You're... close. On the edge. I think... If we could find the right counter to the Lonely, you'd have one shot at going back. But just the one.

[ Algric watches, morbidly fascinated, as Jon's eyes go green and terrible for a moment. Even that gentle pressure on his mind makes him wince; Elias's wound is mercifully bandaged, but it's still sore. And, as glad as he is for past Jon's help, it was his first attempt. Such things are clumsy.

Then it's over and - oh. Oh, that gives him hope. Not much hope, but that just means it's realistic, right? ]

B-but it's - it's possible. I could be human. If. If I found a way back.

[ Relief and uncertainty in equal measure. ]

...If you found a way back, yes.

[He... If Algric went back to being human, Jon doesn't know what that means for them, together.

The care he took in that was a little more exertion than he'd intended to use. He squeezes Algric's hand again.]

There's still a chance for you.

[ It's ... a choice. It may be the choice that defines what he is, in fact. Does he stay with the past trio, accepting friendship and companionship that he never had in this timeline? Or does he leave it to stay with his Jon?

Is there a way to do both? He doesn't know. ]

I - I'm glad to know. That I still have a choice.

[ He grips Jon's hand hard. ]

But I'm not making any choices tonight. Other than - than to decide which episode of the Great British Bakeoff we're watching.

[Jon wasn't expecting any big decision to be made tonight.

But he does smile at that.]

...A Nadiya episode is the only correct answer.

You really do Know everything.

[ Algric gently reaches a hand out for Jon's face. ]

[His everything softens, leaning into his touch.]

Only because you asked. Come on.

[He turns his head to his palm before pushing himself to his feet, one hand to Algric's elbow to help ease him up.

Doesn't take but a few minutes to get set up on the couch, one Algric-chosen episode up and going. Jon... finally feels like he can relax. He'd been wire-tension anxiety and on edge since he woke up in Hilltop, but now... feels like the time he can let it go a little.]

[ It is very cozy here, isn't it? With their mugs of tea, the blankets and pillows that already piled on the couch for some reason, and the television ready and waiting for them. Algric himself is warm and soft, especially wherever Jon makes contact.

Despite saying he wants to watch the programme, Algric can't possibly have a good view with his face turned into Jon's shoulder. But somehow, he still seems utterly content. ]

[Even with him sitting like that, Jon keeps an arm around Algric's shoulders. He didn't think he'd get to have this in... Ever. Since everything started going so, so horribly wrong at the Institute those years ago. For a while, Jon has his cheek resting against the top of Algric's head. But at some point around the end of a technical challenge, his head is up straight.

He's not making any sound, his face straight ahead at the tv. But the slowest flow of tears down his face. He forces his breath steady, thumbing circles into Algric's shoulder.

He's fairly certain he won't stop.]

[ It takes Algric a moment to realise what's happening. He's so soft and warm and content that he's nearly asleep, and definitely dozing against Jon's shoulder. Then something wet splashes close to his face, and he blinks awake again. What... is there a leak? Is it the upstairs neighbor again?

Then he looks up, and. Oh. He watches for a moment, unsure of how to interrupt. If he should interrupt. He doesn't move, but instead only speaks softly: ]

Jon?

[He's so caught up in his own head, his own horrors, he almost doesn't register the voice right next to him.

His eyes flutter quickly, a sharp breath but the tears don't stop.]

S-sorry. Was- Should I move? Are you uncomfortable?

N-no, no I - I'm not. It's all right, Jon.

[ He straightens a little, moving to get behind him properly. And leaning up to smooth tears away with one cheek. ]

[He closes his eye on that side, a few more tears squeezing out because... Really, he did warn that he probably wouldn't stop.]

I'm--... You don't have to.

I don't have to. No. But I want to, Jon.

[ He keeps brushing them away, gently, using his sleeve if he needs to. Not urging Jon to stop, not at all. ]

[Something in his throat catches, leaving his breathing shuddered. He turns his face into Algric's hands, ducking his head down. He didn't think he had any human left in him to cry. But it figures, doesn't it? Algric brings it out of him.

He doesn't deserve this. He destroyed the world in their timeline. Saw the worst possible things that can happen to humans, and even worse, he fed off of it. He's the worst kind of monster.]

[ Oh Jon. Oh Jon.

He just reaches over to him now, pulling him in for a desperate hug. It's okay, you won't hurt his jumper by getting it wet. Won't hurt Algric by needing him. If anything, the opposite is true. ]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm sorry it's all happened, I'm sorry --

[ He clings to Jon, fingers fisting in his hair, another hand clutching at his back. He's here, Jon, he's here now. ]

You did nothing wrong. [It's whispered into his jumper, Jon trembling against him.]

Please don't apologize.

[It's about all he can manage to get out before a wet gasp, trying to get his breath steady again. And instead, he turns more into Algric, clutching at his back. He can't tell him. Jon can't ever bring himself to tell him the things he saw, the things he Knew happening. It was overflowing and...

There's a tape recorder here somewhere.

He'll deal with that. At some point. Probably if Algric falls asleep.]

It's okay, Jon. It's okay. I'm here.

[ He just holds Jon closer, soothing his hands over his back. He doesn't want to be anywhere else right now; even with Jon weeping, this is all he's ever wanted. He can only guess at what Jon's seen, but if he can provide even a scrap of comfort ...

Yes. Yes, he can do that. He curls around Jon protectively, murmuring every soft thing he can think of. ]

[He stays like that for a long while. Jon hasn't had any sense of time progression since the confrontation at the Panopticon, and he certainly doesn't have it here either. He only knows it's been a solid half hour before his breath finally starts to steady. He visibly relaxes, going slack in Algric's arms.]

I... [Sighs.] I made a mess of your jumper.

[ That's fine. Algric is here to hold him as long as necessary. The only concession to time he's made is to lay them both down on the couch, so Algric can cuddle him better. ]

That's - that's all right. I'll wash this one.

[Between Knowing Algric earlier, the trip through the dimension, and letting himself break for a while, Jon knows he's going to need to eat soon. He thinks he still has a couple statements in his bag from... Before the. World breaking. That should hold him over for a little while, until they figure out something more permanent.

He keeps his face pressed against him.]

...I never deserved you, you know.

[ Something they can figure out later. Soon. Algric will help, of course.

For now, though, he just pets Jon's head. ]

What, me? I was - I was never worth anything, Jon.

[Christ.

Maybe he's not in a good place to have this conversation, mentally or emotionally.]

...I don't think I ever said it be-before but. I'm.. I'm sorry. For all the times I was.... An arse to you. You were just. Trying to help and take care of us any way you could.

[ Algric manages a small, weak laugh. Those times seem nearly nostalgic, now. ]

Only took the end of the world to see it?

...Took losing you.

[He's not laughing.]

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