[PSL-Adjacent] time travel side story

[curriculum_fictae]

[ 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. ]

Comments

2/2

[curriculum_fictae]

[ And then his eyes widen when he realises what's just happened. He looks horrified, though perhaps not for the reason Jon thinks. Does - does Jon even have enough power to spare a compulsion at this point? ]

[eyediot]

[The words alone are enough to surprise him. But it doesn't take a rocket scientist for him to realize what he just did. In an instant, Jon's sitting back, covering his mouth. As if that would stop it.]

I-i'm sorry.

[curriculum_fictae]

It's -

[ It's not fine, not Jon seems too weak to do much more than lie there next to him. Algric takes in a gulp of air. ]

You didn't mean it. I'm just - worried about you.

[eyediot]

It's not fine. [Just knowing what he was about to initially say. Jon pulls himself up, making for his bag that he left by the door and dig through it.]

I-i just, I need something to tide me over

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He can hear how badly Jon's slipping now. It terrifies him a little, even as he moves to help get the bag for Jon. Will that really be enough? ]

Jon ... please. Let me help you. You - you're so weak.

[eyediot]

[There are some papers he pulls out - not statements - and tapes, some marked with dates just before Jon took the Archivist position, some dated from after. Institute keys that were borderline useless but could probably be useful now. But he finally gets a handful of statements and stares down at them.

It's like staring down at crumbs, barely enough to taste anything at this point. His shoulders sag holding them.]

...You're really sure?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Yeah. That's not a happy expression on Jon's face. The man is starving, and Algric can tell just by looking that those statements won't do a damn thing. Not when Jon's this hungry. ]

Yes, Jon. Let me - let me help you. Please.

[ He reaches out to cup Jon's face. ]

[eyediot]

[He turns his face into the touch, closes his eyes.]

Then... please tell me.

[Whatever Algric wants to tell. Anything.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric takes a deep breath, then. Letting the compulsion settle in him willingly, guiding it to the story he wants to tell. Something smaller - something he can endure in his nightmares, hopefully. ]

It was - it was shortly after I'd agreed to Peter's deal. You were still dead. He'd convinced me to stop going to see you, but ... but I still tried to keep up with everyone, yeah? If I didn't, I - I might not even know if he'd kept up his end of the bargain. He could have still been solving HR disputes by eating the employees involved.

[ He draws Jon in closer, smoothing his fingers over Jon's hair. ]

S-so I. I'd stopped by Rosie's desk this morning. Just saying hullo, catching up on gossip. She had a little trouble focusing on me, but it was a nice chat. Pleasant. No one was missing, except you, of course, but. Ah. Library's never cared much about the weirdos in Archives, I guess...

[ That had been him once upon a time. God. ]

When I got back to the office, Peter wasn't there. Or - or at least I thought he wasn't there, until I got up to make coffee a few minutes later and the door was frozen shut. A-and I turned and ... ah, you know Peter. He never says anything nasty, does he? Just sort of - implies that you're the worst, and lets you take over from there. Like. Like an acid drip in your brain.

[ Now he's gulping for air, the words burning as they leave his throat. ]

He said he was disappointed in me. Asked if I really wanted to - to put the Institute in danger like that? So soon after we'd made the deal too. But it was all right, he could f-f-fix it. For me.

[ The details aren't important. Jon's seen them: the frigid beach, the grey waters. ]

I ... stopped talking to Rosie, after. Or anyone else. Not that it. Really mattered. No one even noticed me any more.

[eyediot]

[The pain imbued in every word, the self-realized horror Algric describes... It's a nice hot bowl of soup on a cold day for him. His eyes are bright while Algric pours the words out, mouth hanging open for the first part before closing and lips pressed tightly together by the end. The image of the cold, uncaring waters like the nicest drink on his throat.

Jon takes a deep breath. Coming back to himself, the green fading as he keeps watching Algric's face. But there isnt any joy or satisfaction in his expression, not like usual from a small ...brunch? Would that be this?

He's more sorry than anything.]

I... i had no idea at the time...

[curriculum_fictae]

[ A delicious soup and sandwich combo, maybe. Not the full steak dinner - that still looms, fragrant and tempting - but perhaps an appetizer is enough for now. Far better than those miserable crumbs.

Algric, meanwhile, watches Jon, to see if he looks like he feels any better. Happiness isn't necessary, but if he at least looks less weak ... ]

You were dead at the time, Jon.

[eyediot]

I-- still.

[As if he had any control over being dead. As if he could have stopped Peter at the time. He sighs but doesn't look like he's about to collapse like just a few minutes before.

He sounds almost miserable about it.]

Thank you.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric moves to draw him in for a hug. It hadn't felt like much, at least? He will pay for it later, though, when he falls asleep. ]

Of course. I'll - I'll feed you as much as I can. As much as you want, anyway.

[eyediot]

I... really wish you wouldn't. We'll find something more permanent.

[He does go in for the hug though. He would never deny him or himself that.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Shut up and take his hug, Jon. Algric just holds him for a moment. ]

I know. But - having an emergency supply is good, right?

[eyediot]

I..

[Sighs, leaning into him.]

I suppose.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ He presses a kiss to the top of Jon's head. ]

Do you feel any better?

[eyediot]

[Jon takes in a deep breeath, visibly relaxing then.]

I think so, yes. Quite a bit.

[Enough that he can think more clearly. Jon looks up to Algric thoughtful. Something occurring to him like this.]

What about you?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric blinks down at him. ]

Me? I'm fine. I don't feel any different, honestly.

[eyediot]

... So, you. I mean, you... still just. Can eat regular food and that's all you need?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. That question, huh. He ... turns away, faintly miserable. ]

No. I need - I need to feed too. I just ... had a really good meal recently.

[eyediot]

... Ah.

[God, he's such an asshole.]

Sorry.

[curriculum_fictae]

No, it's. It's a good question.

[ He takes a deep breath. ]

My past self is ... miserable having me here.

[eyediot]

Ah.

[His voice is Tired.]

He's feeling replaced by a newer, better version with all the answers to fix everything and you feel like you're making things worse because things are happening differently.

... I guess that... would be a meal.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric winces at that, but - well, he suspected already. He would feel the same, after all. ]

Y-yes. It's - I hate it, but - what am I supposed to do? Let it go to waste?