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soveryanon · 4 years ago

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Reviewing time for MAG199! ;_;

- That discussion was a lot, and raised a lot of interesting points, but wooftie did the beginning show characters going back to their bad reflexes out of habit and stress. Melanie and Jon were quick to get snappish at each other, and we know from MAG186 that Martin making tea is also his way of avoiding conflict:

(MAG186) ALSO MARTIN: We could. [SIGH] But we both know that loved ones make the worst therapists. They’re too wrapped up in trying to stop you hurting, to actually help. But hey: we know all about that, am I right? MARTIN: There’s nothing wrong with comforting people. ALSO MARTIN: A cup of tea isn’t a resolution. At best it’s a… a plaster; at worst… a muzzle.

So the fact that the sequence began with Martin asking about tea?

(MAG199) MELANIE: … So… ARCHIVIST: … Yeah. [UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE] MARTIN: Anyone want another cup of tea? [SOMETHING WOODEN SCRAPES ACROSS TUNNEL FLOOR] Well, heh, I say “tea”, it’s har– GEORGIE: We can’t keep putting it off. We need to talk about this. About what we’re going to do.

Aouch. (I wonder where the tea came from: from the London supermarket? Or were those the bags he had packed before leaving the Scotland cabin?)

- Meanwhile, Basira was providing out-of-the-box ideas or possibilities and Georgie acted a bit like a debate mediator, laying options down and trying to keep things on track. I’m especially glad that she was the one to point out that there were actually three options, counting inaction (letting the world slowly die out) as one, since, as she pointed out, she had felt guilty for not having helped Jon back in season 4 – she had told him so, she had to reexplain to Melanie again this episode.

- Although he had begun the season correcting Martin about Elias actually being “Jonah”, Jon mainly used “Elias” to refer to him this season, until they reached London and he was oscillating between the two. But since Jon told Elias Bouchard (the real one)’s statement, it’s been “Jonah” without hesitation, to the point that he corrected Georgie about it:

(MAG193) ARCHIVIST: I could kill his body, sever the link, break The Eye’s power, and… Jonah Magnus would die.

(MAG194) ARCHIVIST: Look. Right, when I said that I would “replace” Jonah in there, that’s not… I m– … That place, the centre of The Eye, i–it’s… it wasn’t made for him.

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: I see. Destroy the Panopticon, and you release its power. Kill Jonah, and you cut the connection between the Fears and the world.

(MAG198) ARCHIVIST: Had a blazing row? MARTIN: I, uh… eh… Yeah, that. BASIRA: What? ARCHIVIST: About what we should do with Jonah. With… the Panopticon. BASIRA: Oh, about whether you should, uh…?

(MAG199) GEORGIE: One. We follow Annabelle’s plan. We destroy the Panopticon, kill Elias– ARCHIVIST: Jonah– GEORGIE: Whatever– ARCHIVIST: –Magnus.

It feels like knowing about the real Elias helped Jon distinguish the two, since he could now put a story and a personality on “Elias”?

(I’m still laughing a bit that Jon had to be That Person and interrupt Georgie. Not the point, not the moment, Jon.)

- Overall, I like how we could clearly see what was prioritised by everyone amongst the options they explored and how they approached the problem. Basically, the unknown factors came to whether other worlds were already impacted by the Fears or not, and whether the Fears would contaminate all of them or just a portion, which led to a few scenarios showing what they feared and hoped for the most:

-> Keeping the Fears in their world and sacrificing it in the process: hoping that the Fears were intrinsically tied to this world in particular, that this option would mean their absolute annihilation, and fearing that other worlds getting contaminated by them would lead to these other worlds experiencing their own apocalypse, thus perpetuating a cycle they could have stopped.

-> Throwing the Fears into other worlds to save their own: hoping that the Fears already existed in other worlds, that it would only impact some amongst an infinity of worlds, and fearing that sacrificing their world would be a pointless sacrifice if the Fears happen to exist elsewhere anyway.

Jon was behind the first plan, with a few variations (offering to accelerate the death process if necessary… which, indeed, was chilling, and Basira’s firm opposition against actively contributing to people’s murder was very necessary, but made sense as an option if the scenario was to doom this world). The others federated for the second with various priorities: Basira sounded like she could have accepted the sacrifice of this world if it came with the certainty that it would eradicate the Fears everywhere (but they do not have that certainty), while Melanie insisted on people’s own responsibility when it came to bringing around an apocalypse and the fact that hypotheticals could go both ways, while Georgie seemed more receptive to what would happen to this world for sure vs. the unknown in other universes, while Martin was refusing Jon’s option to take Jonah’s place and was receptive to other ideas. From Georgie&Melanie, there was the additional fact that they had recently witnessed the survivors, who trusted them and were under their protection, getting snatched away without them being able to do anything; from an emotional point of view, it might have pushed them to… do something, anything, that could indeed save people, while they hadn’t been able to be active until now.

* I really like that Basira was the one to point out and reiterate how unfair it was of them to take this decision, that they ultimately were very privileged compared to the main victims, trying to find ways to get people involved in the process. It does feel like she’s learned during the journey…

* Jon’s voice (weary, miserable) when he explained that he already knew what people wanted, and that it was for their suffering “to stop”, broke my heart into pieces ;_;

* Martin’s main argument (“I’d rather live the rest of my life lying awake wondering if I made the right choice, over… lying awake listening to the screams of everyone on Earth being tortured!” really echoed what had happened with Annabelle on their journey to Hill Top Road: that he couldn’t help making additional stops to relieve people’s suffering for a bit, and that he briefly lamented Salesa’s death despite Annabelle pointing out that he had made victims, since Martin “didn’t know them”. Martin reacts more strongly to what’s in front of him, uh…

* Georgie felt very End-touched this episode? “until the end”, “towards the end”, just like Beholding avatars had occasionally been punning about their patron…

* Melanie, sayer of “fuck” /o/

(MAG131) MELANIE: Oooh, fuck off?!

(MAG199) MELANIE: But if you think that’s all I care about here, then frankly you can fuck off out my tunnels on your high horse.

Jon still in the lead with four over the course of the series, we’ll see if anyone else takes the lead with MAG200…

- Overall: what was the most striking was how, at this point, Jon was indeed too disillusioned to hope for any possible positive outcome. They all made good points, about what they knew and didn’t know, about the worst and best cases scenarios – but from Jon’s point of view, it feels like the guilt has been heavy enough already, and that he couldn’t stand to add to it anymore.

(And ;; It’s especially cruel that he stuck to his line of trusting the others, that he shared the information with the others and counted on them to make a collective decision… but that he was the only discordant voice in the end. That was the risk! And it just cruelly (for him) turned out this way.)

- Amongst the points that weren’t mentioned, I’m curious that the followings didn’t come up:

* They barely talked about The Web or Jonah as, well, being the main factors resulting in the current apocalypse – as the people who wanted it to happen and worked for it. They all were ready to take the blame but… the apocalypse wouldn’t have happened if The Web hadn’t wanted to control its escape by backing up Jonah to make it happen, and if Jonah hadn’t worked for it. Yeeting the Fears into other worlds also means yeeting The Web, who now knows for sure how an apocalypse can happen, which means it will search for a crack to widen as its next escape pod as soon as it arrives somewhere else, thus repeating the cycle probably much more faster…?

* They all seem confident that once the Fears leave, they’ll be gone forever. But Gerry had raised the point in front of Jon that nobody can tell really which came first, if the Fears originated from people or caused their fears. What if the problem in the TMA world is that the Fears are produced by people – what if they would be recreated as soon as they leave (especially now that people are left traumatised and hurt)?

* They weren’t sure whether the other worlds would be very similar to theirs (“Assuming time even works the same in different dimensions.”) but… the two examples of people crossing the Hill Top Road line had come from very familiar worlds: Anya’s was almost identical (except that there was no Magnus Institute in hers – maybe no Jonah Magnus at all?) and Eowa was killed by the same army he had tried to flee. The examples both Jon and Martin read about felt really similar to their world; those could be drops in the bucket, but still…

* There was absolutely no mention of the people they lost in the course of the series. It’s a strange feeling, because when it came to it, their conclusions seem pretty disconnected from everything that had happened to them, to the point that Melanie could blurt out “We all lived with monsters in the shadows, and we just got on with it.” without being countered by anyone – although it was the most obvious lie ever (and Melanie had to be aware of it, given how she blinded herself to escape The Eye). Melanie knows in detail how her father suffered because of The Corruption at Ivy Meadows before dying. Georgie lost Alex and her ability to feel fear. Basira had to hunt and kill Daisy after she got lost to The Hunt. Jon was traumatised as kid, witnessed Helen Richardson getting taken by Michael in front of him; Martin was preyed on and groomed for The Lonely for months by Peter; Jon&Martin both lost Tim and Sasha. They know how damaging the Fears can be even at the lurking stage. I wouldn’t have been surprised if, even taking this into account, they’d still have gone with the plan to yeet the Fears (since in the best case scenario, Fears would already be present in other worlds anyway, or whatever inhabits them would be insulated to them), I’m just surprised that the topic of the people they have lost didn’t come up as a potential counter-argument, especially since we’re at the end of this journey.

- Oh gods, Jon leaving for a smoke…

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: Fine. I’m going for a cigarette. [DEPARTING FOOTSTEPS] [CLICK.]

… sounded like a very bad omen, given how las time he had left people alone to smoke, it had gone, uh, pipe-murderly:

(MAG080) ARCHIVIST: I’m going to have a cigarette. Don’t… [DOOR OPENS] Don’t. [DOOR CLOSES]

Surprised that nothing bad happened when he left; if it had been at the end of an episode, I would have panicked for a week about the Watchers coming back for the others while Jon was away.

- It was the first time we’ve heard Jon smoke on tape! We knew he did thanks to a few mentions (him announcing his cigarette break to Leitner in MAG080, the fact that Daisy had found Silk Cuts in his bag in MAG091, when he had tried to give a cigarette to Gerry in MAG111) but we hadn’t heard him taking a smoke.

* … How long has Jon carried these cigarettes? Did they come from before the Change, did Jon restock at Salesa’s, did he get some from Leitner’s stashes of stuff? Or does his own stock never truly deplete, The Web providing an infinite supply of cigarettes just like the recorders keep spawning?

* We could hear the whirring sounds and the drones, Georgie joked about an “indoor smoking ban”, Jon commented he could think better here, we heard Georgie climbing stairs to reach him, so I’m guessing he was at the bottom of the tower? I like how this scene managed to feel nostalgic despite of it, with Jon being somewhere between inside and outside and hiding for a smoke – we don’t know for sure where he used to go to smoke, but Gertrude had mentioned the Institute has a courtyard.

* And just the location highlighted Jon’s situation: not “human” enough anymore to be in the tunnels, but refusing to embrace what is at the top of the tower. So, alone in that in-between.

- Gods, the Georgie and Jon scene began so adorably?

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: [LONG EXHALATION] GEORGIE: You do know there’s an indoor smoking ban, right? ARCHIVIST: They’ll make an exception for me…! GEORGIE: [FAINT CHUCKLE] ARCHIVIST: Besides, I can’t really think down there. [DRAG ON CIGARETTE] That’s not true, I can, it’s just… exhausting. Puts me in a foul mood. [INHALE] It’s better up here, close to The Eye. Thoughts come quicker. GEORGIE: … If it’s any consolation, you seemed pretty on the ball earlier. ARCHIVIST: It isn’t really but… thank you.

Friendly exes! It really took me back to the familiar bantering they shared in season 3 – except that, back then, Jon was trying to hide what was truly happening to him, and this time around, Jon was shown more open and direct about what was on his mind.

- Again, I love and hate what the scene said and showed, reminding us that… even if the plan they have chosen goes accordingly, Jon won’t be okay, as Jon had explained to Martin:

(MAG181) ARCHIVIST: Uh, these last few days I–I’ve been… getting weaker. Dizzy spells, vagueness, you’ve seen it. Being cut off from the Eye, i–it’s not good for me. MARTIN: Yeah, but if… [INHALE] If you’re that connected, that… dependent, what happens if we actually, y’know, do manage to– ARCHIVIST: We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I just need us to be moving on.

(MAG191) MARTIN: … Jon. If… When we defeat The Eye, the Fears… What happens to you? [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: Nothing good. I think it depends on what actually happens. […] If, however, we… find a way to destroy or, uh… eliminate the Powers… I’m not going to be okay. There’s… too much of me that’s part of The Eye now. I don’t… know what would be left of me without it. Maybe I just… die. Maybe I survive, but I–I lose… something. My identity? My mind? My… memories? I don’t know.

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: Most would simply lose whatever power they have been gifted. Jon would lose much of himself, the parts of him that are The Eye. But he would survive. And perhaps, more importantly, he would remain who he believes himself to be. [TAPE SQUEALS]

His moment of rest consists of coming up under Beholding’s radar again; but if they succeed, there won’t be that anymore. At best, Jon would be like he was in the tunnels, at worse, he would wither away like he did at Salesa’s, losing grasp on his memory and unable to focus. It wasn’t mentioned as a factor in their discussion (Martin and Jon had already covered this privately earlier in the season, after all), but it’s likely not something Jon has forgotten.

- Oh GODS, Georgie, no!!

(MAG199) GEORGIE: … Can I have a cigarette? ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED SNORT] … Sure. [PASSING ONE OVER]

(MAG001) ARCHIVIST: “I picked myself up as best I could, checked I hadn’t seriously injured myself, no broken bones or anything, and decided to roll a cigarette to calm myself. That was when I heard it. [STATIC RISES] “Can I have a cigarette?” [STATIC FADES]”

Given Jon’s reaction, he had picked up on it. You either die an Archivist, or you live long enough to see yourself become the Anglerfish’s victim.

- Georgie used to smoke, and Jon knew that about her! They might have been smoking together as students, given Jon’s official chronology regarding smoking?

(MAG080) ARCHIVIST: I’m going to have a cigarette. Don’t… [DOOR OPENS] Don’t. […] Sorry, I’ve been quit for five years now, but th– [STUNNED SILENCE] … Oh. Oh god… I need to… Uh… I need to, um… [TRAILS OF ALMOST INCOHERENTLY]

MAG080 had taken place in February 2017, so five years ago was 2012, which is roughly when Jon joined the Institute (in MAG051, he had mentioned “One of [his] first cases as a researcher for the Institute in 2012”). Although, well. Jon saying that he had “been quit for five years” wasn’t super convincing when he apparently had cigarettes on him at that moment, but it’s a bit difficult to guess when Jon went back to smoking in the series (Elias’s “He’s not smoking again, is he?” in MAG039 could have been referring to him knowing that Jon used to smoke, or to Jon having started again as soon as he got the lighter; and Tim’s “I don’t mean like ‘sneaking a cigarette’ bad” in MAG079 could have been a random example, or referring to the fact that Jon was indeed having cigarette breaks in season 2 and not being super subtle about it).

- Aouch about the theme of shattering illusions and your heroes being people above all:

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: I thought you quit? GEORGIE: I did! For my health. But… it’s already the apocalypse so… I’ll need a light too. ARCHIVIST: Yeah. [LIGHTER SNICKS OPEN] [GEORGIE LIGHTS UP] GEORGIE: I tried to avoid it in the tunnels, when we had our, uh… When the others were here. […] ARCHIVIST: You didn’t want to tarnish the image of the prophets? GEORGIE: Just didn’t think they wanted one of their “revered leaders” puffing away in the corner. ARCHIVIST: [MURMURS AN ASSENT] GEORGIE: Saw a bishop smoking once when I was a kid, full Easter regalia and all. Really weirded me out.

The comparison hurt a bit by likening the survivors in the tunnels to… children who can’t really tell decorum apart from reality, but there sure was an interesting theme of Georgie being aware of how she was seen, and trying to not hurt the survivors while at the same time indirectly feeding their perception of her as “holy”.

- Okay, so. Probably what felt the biggest, most important thing in this episode was… Georgie taking the lighter, how it happened, and whether or not it will be narratively relevant.

(MAG199) GEORGIE: … Can I have a cigarette? ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED SNORT] … Sure. [PASSING ONE OVER] I thought you quit? GEORGIE: I did! For my health. But… it’s already the apocalypse so… I’ll need a light too. ARCHIVIST: Yeah. [LIGHTER SNICKS OPEN] [GEORGIE LIGHTS UP] GEORGIE: I tried to avoid it in the tunnels, when we had our, uh… When the others were here. [LIGHT METALLIC SOUND] Nice lighter. [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: Hmm? [STATIC FADES] […] I should probably quit myself, then. [LIGHT METALLIC SOUND] GEORGIE: Then, you won’t mind if I hang onto this? [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: [DISTRACTED] Hmm. [STATIC FADES] GEORGIE: … I’m sorry. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] GEORGIE: I know you hate what we’re doing.

* Static when people mention the lighter and Jon not being able to focus on it is far from new:

(MAG111) GERARD: Nice lighter. You a spider freak, then? ARCHIVIST: What? Oh! Er, n–no. I–I, I never really, uh… I never really thought of it. I–I’m Jon. I’m with the Magnus Institute. … I–I’m the Archivist.

(MAG136) DAISY: [SCOFF] She’s… Web. Spider’s sneaky like that. [PAUSE] Like that lighter you’re always using. Where’d you get that? ARCHIVIST: Mm. [STATIC RISES] Good point. We should keep our eyes open. [STATIC FADES] Anyway, how’s Basira doing?

(MAG162) MARTIN: You said this place, the–the cabin was… [WOODEN CREAKING SOUND] It, it’s feeding on us, right? ARCHIVIST: Yes… MARTIN: … So should we… destroy it, before we go? […] We’re not even gonna try? We, we’ve got your lighter, maybe we could just– ARCHIVIST: We can’t fight the world, Martin.

(MAG197) ANNABELLE: And it just so happens that the perfect tool was once delivered to you as a token of appreciation. Though you really do need to learn to keep better care of it. Somehow, it always seems to slip your mind, doesn’t it? ARCHIVIST: What…? BASIRA: Jon, it’s that stupid lighter of yours. ARCHIVIST: [INDIGNANT] My what? I… [STATIC RISES] [PULLS THE GOLD LIGHTER WITH EMBOSSED SPIDERWEB FROM POCKET AND FLICKS IT OPEN] Oh? … Oh. [STATIC FADES]

What is surprising is that it still happened even after Annabelle pointed out the purpose of the lighter. If Jon is supernaturally compelled to not pay attention to it (by The Web, to ensure it stays with Jon? By Beholding, out of self-preservation, like it tried to push Jon away from Eric’s tape that explained how to quit the Archives?), how the heck was Annabelle expecting him to use it in the tunnels to explode the Archives with the gas main?

* At the end of the episode, the others explained how they would proceed, and it’s presented as a given that Jon wouldn’t be in the tunnel team – but rather, that he would go with Martin, despite being unnecessary since Martin would take care of the Jonah murder. It’s rather strange that the others didn’t ask for the lighter directly, but that Georgie took it in the flow of the conversation and in a way Jon barely noticed… as if she wanted to take hold of it sneakily because it was necessary that Jon didn’t really notice. Plus, as was explained, Melanie is supposed to be the last person standing to ignite the gas main: Basira is supposed to be a planned distraction, and Georgie is a back-up distraction in case things go sour. If the point was to get the lighter for the gas main, then Melanie should have been the one to get hold of it.

(* It’s additionally rather strange that Georgie said she had “tried to avoid it in the tunnels” when the survivors were around, implying it was a conscious choice but she might have been smoking outside when patrolling with Melanie… yet had to ask Jon for a cigarette and for a light, as if she didn’t have these things on her.)

Overall, I see three options:

* Total coincidence, red herring, Georgie just didn’t take her own lighter along because she wasn’t planning on smoking.

* Since the beginning of the episode implied that Jon&Martin&Basira had given a complete recap of what had happened to Hill Top Road before the tape recorder clicked on, Georgie took the lighter on purpose to free Jon from The Web’s potential influence. She hasn’t gone back to smoking during the apocalypse; she lied about it to lower Jon’s guard by telling a convincing story, given that Jon knew she used to smoke. Likely meaning that Georgie&Melanie&Martin&Basira have another plan in Jon’s back, but couldn’t share with him due to both the tape recorders and Jon’s connection to Beholding – if Jon knows something, then Beholding might be knowing about it too.

* It’s… actually an End thing. There was a feeling of finality when Georgie took the lighter, as if she might be taking a step that would irrevocably lead to her own death? (“The moment that you die will feel exactly the same as this one.”) She said the exact same thing (“Nice lighter.”) as Gerry, who was dead when he said it; she took the lighter for a dangerous mission; she pointed out her own regrets due to her inaction, and was the one to mention that they had to pay the cost, whatever it was, for this plan to succeed. I don’t know, I got the impression that things might be slotting into place, that her own mechanism had set into motion – that things in the tunnels will go awry, and that she won’t make it out.

- Overall, I like the different approaches characters had about their own guilt and Jon’s in this episode:

(MAG199) GEORGIE: … I’m sorry. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] GEORGIE: I know you hate what we’re doing. ARCHIVIST: I hate all the options, I just… It’s all my fault, you know? GEORGIE: What, because you weren’t able to outsmart the literal embodiment of manipulation and scheming? ARCHIVIST: Mmm. GEORGIE: We all make bad choices, Jon. It’s not your fault some eldritch horror decided yours were going– ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] GEORGIE: –to affect the whole world…! ARCHIVIST: They were still my choices. GEORGIE: … Yeah. And you live with them. Or you don’t. That’s all there is, really. ARCHIVIST: Hmm.

For Jon: what was the most apparent is that he was adamant about presenting what happened as his choices. It could be a remnant of Elia’s gaslighting about it (MAG092: “You never wanted this, no. But I’m afraid you absolutely did choose it. In a hundred ways, at a hundred thresholds, you pressed on. You sought knowledge relentlessly, and you always chose to see. Our world is made of choices, Jon, and very rarely do we truly know what any of them mean. But we make them nonetheless.”), but also a sign that Jon had been struggling about (what he perceives to be) The Web’s hold on his life: if The Web had indeed manipulated him all his life, since he was eight, puppetting him like Francis or the kids at Ray’s house, then what is left of Jon? What is his, who is he? Jon clinging to his own guilt, his own responsibility, the idea that he made his own choices at every turn, might be his way to not fall into the other extreme, the idea that he has been nothing but the Web’s marionette all along and that he’s nothing without it.

It’s also striking that the others have told Jon that the apocalypse wasn’t truly his fault, that they knew Jon hadn’t wanted it, but that Jon redirected the blame on him every time anyway. Georgie tried two other approaches in quick succession: taking The Web into account, with the idea that Jon’s particularity was that he was preyed upon by it, that the consequences were only more dramatic than regular “bad choices” because something was planning to use them anyway; and then, something that resonated more strongly with Georgie’s own experience. As she told Jon, she had regrets about not helping him, felt like she had failed him and had contributed to the steps leading to this apocalypse: she knows what it is to carry that sort of guilt, although on a smaller scale. (And her last sentence felt… extremely End-touched, too.)

- The moment of Georgie introducing that Martin (“your next appointment”) was there and that it was her cue to leave was so sweet ;_; Jon’s ex to Jon’s current partner, and both Jon & Georgie being cool about each other’s new partner in their lives…

- And gooods, Jon&Martin’s conversation ;_;

(MAG199) GEORGIE: He’s all yours. MARTIN: Thanks. [GEORGIE’S FOOTSTEPS DESCEND AND FADE] … You all right? ARCHIVIST: Yeah. Sorry it got so heated in there. MARTIN: Don’t be. I’d have been more worried if you were super calm about it. ARCHIVIST: Yeah. MARTIN: … I’d understand if you hate me right now. ARCHIVIST: What? No! No, Martin, I love you. I always will, and I know you love me too, I mean… [SIGH] That’s it, isn’t it? That’s… the real core of it. You want to save me. MARTIN: I want you to save yourself.

* The fact that Martin was ready and understanding that Jon might hate him for the option Martin defended, that he was expecting Jon to hate him for it, and that he still stuck to it… Oh, Martin… (It’s not the first time a Magnus moment made me think of the When They Cry series but… this one was peak Federika’s poem: “Don’t be sad. The world may not forgive you, but I do. / Don’t be sad. You may not forgive the world, but I forgive you. / Tell me. What must I do to earn your forgiveness?”)

* So many “I love you” coming from Jon this season…

(MAG161) MARTIN: I’m sorry. ARCHIVIST: No, it’s– [SIGH] I love you, I just… I need more time.

(MAG162) ARCHIVIST: “The screams may linger on the distant breeze, and your eye may wander beyond the curtains from time to time, but you and the one you love are, it seems… safe. […] There within the thing that pretends to be a cabin is the one you love. […] The one you love is always near, so close that refuge sometimes feels a prison.”

(MAG183) MARTIN: … I’m sure I love you. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: I love you too. [FABRIC RUSTLES] Let’s go.

(MAG191) MARTIN: … I promise. I love you, Jon. ARCHIVIST: [FOND HUFF] I love you too.

(MAG199) MARTIN: … I’d understand if you hate me right now. ARCHIVIST: What? No! No, Martin, I love you. I always will, and I know you love me too, I mean…

I really wasn’t expecting it when season 4 ended, and yet!! Jon has been so soft and open about it with Martin this season…

* I really like the nuance Martin insisted on, that he mostly wished that Jon would want to save “himself” – it’s not necessarily that Martin is right about it but… from his point of view, he might still be suspecting that Jon is still pretty much self-destructive (although in indirect ways), as Daisy had pointed out in season 4, and that his way of engaging in dangerous missions is still tainted with guilt, with the idea that he has to compensate for something:

(MAG142) DAISY: Not like there’s… “normal” trauma, you know? But it’s pretty common. The most important thing becomes control, engaging on your own terms. Even when it’s stupid or dangerous. Anything to not feel helpless. MARTIN: Oh, god… DAISY: And of course, for Jon, there’s survivor’s guilt in there, too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive. MARTIN: Yeah, well. We’ve all had trauma. DAISY: And everyone’s changed.

(And gods. Maybe the problem this season for Jon is that Daisy wasn’t there anymore to at least point out these things. She hadn’t really managed to take Jon’s mind off of it (and he hadn’t opened up enough with her to confess that he had been attacking people) but she might have been able to lay it out, at least, if she had been there…)

- I’m really glad about the contrast between Jon and Martin when thinking about hypothetical scenarios!

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: … Sometimes… I imagine if none of this had happened. If we had just… met. Been together, w–without… all of this. MARTIN: [SOFTLY] Me too. … But we wouldn’t have, would we? Been together, I mean. ARCHIVIST: Huh? W–what do you mean? MARTIN: Well…! We had that, didn’t we? Almost a year of just working a normal job together and… you hated me. ARCHIVIST: I didn’t “hate” you. MARTIN: No–no, no, no, I listened to those tapes. At one point, you explicitly said you’d be fine with me being chopped up by that old jigsaw lady. ARCHIVIST: Oh, god, Angela! Ha! She’s still about, you know? Lording it over a nasty little Flesh domain. Anyway, I didn’t explicitly say it, I… implied it. MARTIN: Face it, Jon, it took almost two years of crisis and trauma to even make us compatible.

* Jon truly is the romantic in that relationship.

* I’m very glad for Martin pointing out that he remembers how Jon used to treat him, and that he doesn’t really believe that they could have gotten together without the circumstances they experienced. I don’t think we’re meant to take Martin’s words exactly at face value (the circumstances allowed them to open up to each other and get closer, they didn’t necessarily turn them into whole other human beings), but it makes sense that, from his perspective… it’s hard to romanticise the past:

(MAG014) ARCHIVIST: I sent Martin to look into this “Angela” character, not that I want him to get chopped up, of course, but someone had to. Apparently he spent three days looking into every woman named Angela in Bexley over the age of 50. He could not find anyone that matches the admittedly vague description given here, though he informs me that he had some very pleasant chats about jigsaws. Useless ass.

Jon was absolutely awful to him back then, and ranting about him on tapes was textbook workplace bullying since he knew the tapes were semi-public (as in MAG032, Tim reported to him that researchers and students had been pointing out mistakes in his recordings). Off-tape, just from Martin’s point of view, we know that it was so pervasive that he remembered about it when left alone, tormented by his worst memories and feelings:

(MAG170) MARTIN: … Oh, I, I met someone! Did I tell you? He’s… [SHUFFLING] I, I don’t know. I like him. He doesn’t like me, though. Not really. I don’t blame him. I don’t like me sometimes, and I am me! Plus, he’s… he’s my, my boss? Is that right? [CREAKING] Ei–either way. It’s probably for the best? Wouldn’t really be appropriate, eh…!

(MAG186) ALSO MARTIN: Or… does it just keep paralysing us, make us shrink back and wait, hoping things work out? Like with Jon when we thought the worms had got him. MARTIN: Hey, to be fair, he still kind of hated me back then. I’m really not sure it would have been the best time to take my shot. ALSO MARTIN: … Fair. He was projecting hard.

Season 1 is not a time Martin would be eager to go back to, because it’s when Jon was at his worst against him (and Martin lived in fear of his fake CV being discovered), while for Jon… it was before Prentiss attacking the Institute, before his scars and before losing Sasha. It makes sense that Martin would want to defend what they got, to defend this world over others, given that from his point of view, it might be the only configuration possible that made his relationship with Jon possible – which, once again: might not be necessarily the truth, but makes sense from Martin’s point of view.

* Though, Martin, sweetie, the “normal job” included you getting besieged by Prentiss for two weeks and having to eat canned peaches. It’s never really been a “normal” job.

- Jon lightening up at the mention of Angela and immediately infodumping about how she was doing was so bittersweet to me, since it emphasised (once again) how deep Jon is in the Fears’ society by now. Those are familiar names, familiar figures, doing terrible things, but it still feels like his own universe when he mentions them, when he explains what he knows about them. Once again, it makes me wonder what will be left of him once all those things are just… gone.

- Martin listened to so many tapes, uh?

(MAG142) MARTIN: I listened to your old statement. Wasn’t your partner down there? DAISY: Yeah. Didn’t find him.

(MAG188) MARTIN: Plus, I… I was a little bit jealous as, well. ARCHIVIST: Of what? MARTIN: Of Helen. Well, the, the real Helen. I found the tape when you were on the run and… I don’t know. Something about the way you two seemed to connect when she came in. ARCHIVIST: [HUFF] Before she was eaten by a door. MARTIN: Well, yeah. It certainly seemed to have a pretty deep impact on you.

(MAG199) MARTIN: No–no, no, no, I listened to those tapes. At one point, you explicitly said you’d be fine with me being chopped up by that old jigsaw lady.

He listened to the one involving Angela (MAG014), to Helen’s statement (MAG047), to the events that got Daisy section’d (MAG061) – that last one being even more interesting since it explicitly mentioned that Basira&Daisy were giving Jon the tapes, which means it was from the stash Jon was recording secretly. I’m back to fearing a bit about Martin as a back-up Archivist: he used to read statements and to take a few live ones, Annabelle made him read her statement in MAG197, he’s been listening to tapes… just like Jon.

- Martin has been good at finding loopholes in mutual promises:

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] That’s very sweet of you, Martin. Sort of. … Thank you. MARTIN: Wherever you go, I go. That’s it. ARCHIVIST: You promised to let me go, if I had to. MARTIN: And you promised not to go if there was any other choice. And there is. So that’s the deal. ARCHIVIST: … That’s the deal.

Martin said that he wouldn’t “doom the world” over Jon: he’s still respecting that in a way by prioritising Jon and this peculiar world (and as the others had pointed out earlier, they weren’t sure whether their actions would doom others or not).

I’m super afraid about that “Wherever you go, I go” which sounds like something that could suddenly come to a stop. Martin had pointed out multiple times that he was “following” Jon (MAG170: “I was following, al–always following, never leading; never leading.”), but recent episodes have operated a bit differently – Jon didn’t follow Martin to his domain, respecting Martin’s wish to confront it alone, and Jon followed him to Hill Top Road. At this point, Jon has been following Martin, too…

- I got a first impression of Martin’s words before understanding that it could actually be referring to multiple things:

(MAG199) MARTIN: I guess that’s why it really bothers me, you know? [SAD CHUCKLING] I try, but I can’t actually imagine… ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you. And it… It hurts to know you can.

At first, I thought Martin was saying that he felt like Jon would be ready to sacrifice Martin or his relationship with him for a greater good, while Martin definitely couldn’t (as he pointed out to Also Martin, his limit would probably be to sacrifice Jon), but… it could also be a reference to Jon’s self-hatred, the fact that Jon would sacrifice himself so easily. In that case, it’s a bit hypocritical of Martin indeed (since he had told Also Martin that he was ready to sacrifice himself too), but I still feel like there might be a difference between the two – Martin would do it to save the world or Jon (or to not live on the pain of his domain’s victims), while Jon… would likely do it out of self-hatred and because he feels like it’s his responsibility to make up for the apocalypse.

- The contrast between Georgie’s scene and this, when Jon finally broke ;_;

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: I hate all the options, I just… It’s all my fault, you know? GEORGIE: What, because you weren’t able to outsmart the literal embodiment of manipulation and scheming? ARCHIVIST: Mmm. GEORGIE: We all make bad choices, Jon. It’s not your fault some eldritch horror decided yours were going– ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] GEORGIE: –to affect the whole world…! ARCHIVIST: They were still my choices. GEORGIE: … Yeah. And you live with them. Or you don’t. That’s all there is, really. ARCHIVIST: Hmm. […] You didn’t damn the world, Martin. MARTIN: [SIGH] We all– ARCHIVIST: [HARSH] No! “We all” nothing! I… I’m the one who caused all of this, that’s just the truth of it! I’m the one whose whole life has been nothing but one – long – setup – to this. MARTIN: Jon… ARCHIVIST: [WITH SADNESS] You didn’t speak the words! You didn’t feel them move through you, vomiting out of you like…! [SHAKY BREATHING] … I did this. It’s my fault. And I don’t want… I can’t let anyone else feel that, that… helpless, enormous guilt. Ever.

Both Georgie and Martin beginning by “We all”, but Jon’s reaction being so hugely different when he heard it for the second time.

* I wanted Jon to have a breakdown, I got the breakdown, I’m still sad about it ;_;

* Jon had been very susceptible to the rhetoric of being “chosen”: he had wondered about it in season 3 and 4, until Jonah had concluded that if Jon had been “chosen” in any way, it was by him when he decided that Jon’s Web mark made him prime for his plan and that it was mostly just due to Jon’s “own rotten luck”. It might have been easier to swallow for a while, technically, until Annabelle reactivated all those fears about being “chosen” but from even longer – since childhood, since he was eight, since he was just a kid who just survived a Fear encounter. I do feel like there was a lot of bullshit in what Annabelle told him, in the way she framed it; she had also told Martin that a web couldn’t be “precious about a single strand” and I feel like it was more likely that there were multiple potential Jons, or that The Web had already tried to get someone (Gertrude? Her assistants, with Emma pushing them into danger?) marked and prime for the final ritual. But Jon has been very vulnerable to the idea that there could be something wrong inherent to him, that things he had no power over had to be his fault somehow, such as not being able to rescue his bully, or Sasha getting killed by the Not!Them, or the apocalypse (while he had more trouble accepting his own blame for things he was directly responsible for).

* I was wondering recently if Jon might have finally accepted that he wasn’t responsible for the apocalypse, that it was Jonah’s fault (since he hadn’t mentioned it for a long while at this point) but… nop. He didn’t really change his mind about it since the start of the season, just got better at hiding it:

(MAG161) MARTIN: Jon, it’s not your fault… ARCHIVIST: Martin, can we not do this again. MARTIN: Sorry. ARCHIVIST: I’m just… I’m mourning a world I killed…! MARTIN: I know… ARCHIVIST: And we’re all trapped in its rotting corpse…!

* ;_; My heart broke when Jon recalled the experience of reading Jonah’s letter, and how traumatising the mere action was. We could hear him struggle and try to stop speaking in MAG160, and yet the letter was following its course…

* Just like with The Web’s clutch on him yet Jon still defending that he made those “bad choices”, it’s heartbreaking how Jon seems to be stuck on the paradox of being conscious that he couldn’t stop reading the letter, that something awful was done to him, yet still defends that it’s his fault and his responsibility. Jonah was barely mentioned this episode (and not as the man who chose to unleash that apocalypse), but he was still… very present in the multiple ways he fucked Jon over.

* It’s extremely sad that their current plan requires to trample on precisely the thing Jon didn’t and doesn’t want (to inflict what he experienced over someone else)… and yet, as sad it is, it also needs to be seen in the whole situation. Is guilt the worst thing that someone can experience? What about the people currently being tortured in their domains? (Or is there something coming up, such as Jon’s guilt being one aspect of his “domain” all along?)

* But still. Sobbing over the fact that Jon didn’t even blurt out out that he couldn’t allow anyone else to be hurt and fucked over by another Jonah like he was, but that the worst thing, for him, still was this “helpless, enormous guilt”. Not the pain, not the constant anguish, not the people he lost, but the guilt of having been used to end the world.

- There have been a few mentions revolving around Jon’s voice lately:

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: As far as I can tell. I–it’s hard to s–… If I look too closely at them, my own voice, things get… recursive. Hard to follow. […] ANNABELLE: [CHUCKLING] I am sorry you find them irritating! They’re a side effect of the very specific way this web has been spun. I thought you liked his voice? MARTIN: I do when it’s his voice. I’ve never liked the statements. It always felt… Yeah. ANNABELLE: Well… you can trust me when I say you’ll be hearing his real voice very soon. […] We found the one we believed most likely to bring about their manifestation. We marked him young, guided his path as best we could. And then, we took his voice. ARCHIVIST: No… ANNABELLE: His, and those he walked with. We inscribed them on shining strands of word and meaning, and used them to weave a web which cast itself out through the gate and beyond our universe. So that when the Fears heard that voice, and came in their terrible glory, they might then travel out along it. [TAPE SQUEALS] Or be dragged.

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: [WITH SADNESS] You didn’t speak the words! You didn’t feel them move through you, vomiting out of you like…! [SHAKY BREATHING] … I did this.

And once again, there was the “For the silence” coin Albrecht discovered in the tomb of what was likely to be an old Archivist. Whatever happens in MAG200, I wonder if Jon won’t lose his voice in the process? Wouldn’t be the worst thing and, anyway, he will lose his voice symbolically with the end of the podcast (even in the case where he wouldn’t be straight up dying) but… I don’t know. The end of the episode had Jon exceptionally withdrawn and silent while the others discussed, so it already felt like he was falling “silent” in a way, and I wonder if he’ll lose his voice in a more literal way during the crisis, especially if the Fears are following “his voice”…

- Martin was so soft… and the Fabric Rustled again.

(MAG158) MARTIN: I see… [INHALE] I see you, Jon. [BREATHLESS CHUCKLE] [PRESENT, ECHO FADES] I see you…! ARCHIVIST: Oh, Martin… [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: I w–I was on my own…! I was all on my own…

(Season 5 trailer) MARTIN: You know I’m here for you. ARCHIVIST: [LONG SIGH] … Yes. Yes I do. [RUSTLING OF CLOTHES] MARTIN: All right. All right. ARCHIVIST: Thank you.

(MAG170) ARCHIVIST: [CLOSER] Oh! Martin, hold on, I–I–I’m coming, I just… [STATIC REACHING A PEAK] [FOOTSTEPS] Oh, Martin! Thank god, I, I was… I–I thought you were behind me. [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: I thought you’d left me behind…! Gone on without me.

(MAG177) ARCHIVIST: … I’m sorry. [SILENCE] MARTIN: [SIGH] It’s okay. I understand. [BAG JOSTLING] [FABRIC RUSTLES]

(MAG183) MARTIN: … I’m sure I love you. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: I love you too. [FABRIC RUSTLES] Let’s go.

(MAG187) ARCHIVIST: [GROGGY] Oh. Martin, good! [BAG JOSTLING] [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: Wh–, wh–wh–what happened? Th–th–there was the hotel and then…

(MAG191) MARTIN: No, I, I know, I know. I’m sorry, it’s okay. [SIGH] [FABRIC RUSTLES] ARCHIVIST: … Bad dream? […] Maybe I just… die. Maybe I survive, but I–I lose… something. My identity? My mind? My… memories? I don’t know. [FABRIC RUSTLES AS THEY EMBRACE] MARTIN: [LONG EXHALE]

(MAG197) ARCHIVIST: Martin! [FABRIC RUSTLES] MARTIN: … Oh god, I’m sorry, I– ARCHIVIST: It’s fine.

(MAG199) MARTIN: Hey. ARCHIVIST: [SNIFFS AS IF TEARING UP] MARTIN: Hey, hey, hey, hey, come here, come here. [FABRIC RUSTLES] ARCHIVIST: [SNIFFS] MARTIN: We’re going to fix it. ARCHIVIST: No…! [HUFF] … We’re just going to pass it on…! MARTIN: You don’t know that.

It might have for the last time ever…

- What was that sigh, Martin.

(MAG199) [SILENCE, AS THEY BOTH COMPOSE THEMSELVES] ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] Come on. The others will be waiting. [SHUFFLING] [FOOTSTEPS DESCEND] MARTIN: [HEAVY SIGH] [CLICK.]

Was it “just” the sigh of knowing the current plan is making Jon miserable, or is it the sigh of someone who knows that something could comfort Jon, yet can’t share it with him yet…?

- Logistic of things in the next scene was that Jon&Martin came back to Georgie, who explained to them that Basira&Melanie had gone scouting, and the tape recorder clicked on when Basira&Melanie arrived:

(MAG199) [CLICK–] GEORGIE: I’m not sure, they said they were out– Oh, hey. [DOOR CREAKS, FOOTSTEPS ENTER] ARCHIVIST: There you are. I was getting worried. MELANIE: We were scouting. I was showing Basira where we think the gas mainline is. MARTIN: And? BASIRA: Not good. You know those Eye things? ARCHIVIST: The old Archivists? BASIRA: Yeah. I think they know something’s up. The place is crawling with them, it’s like they’re looking for something. MELANIE: Or patrolling. MARTIN: Hmm. GEORGIE: That’s why the stairs were unguarded? BASIRA: It looks that way.

* I’m still not sure what the point of the lighter is in relation to the tape recorders and The Web. Annabelle implied that the lighter had acted as a tracker or would act as a tracker (MAG197: “A little anchor of our power, so that we, and our tapes, may follow wherever you go.”) but we’ve had various examples showing that it wasn’t exclusively the case: the tape recorders had turned on and off in the Archives and in Elias’s office while Jon was away in season 3, they turned up around Martin and in Elias’s cell in season 4, one popped up to record Melanie&Georgie at the end of MAG191 while they were walking in London. What it might be able to do, however, is allow the tape recorders to reach places that should be insulated from other powers (such as within the Coffin, or when Jon was Nikola’s prisoner, or at Upton House)? I’m not sure. Anyway, Georgie took the lighter, has the lighter, and the next scene included Georgie, so I wonder if something will change in the POV of the action next episode, or if the team wasn’t suspecting that The Web still had another use for Jon.

* Why are the Archivists acting up? Is it because Beholding is getting impatient and wants Jon as its pupil? Is it because Beholding is sensing that something is threatening its position? Is it because Jon knows about the plan and the potentiality of Beholding losing its hold over this world, therefore allowing Beholding to know about it and making it react in self-defence? Are Jon’s own feelings about the plan influencing Beholding? Jon said that he didn’t feel like it could think but, if The Eye was indeed behind Jon’s difficulty to listen to Eric’s tape, that showed that it still has instincts and a capacity to try and protect itself.

- As mentioned above, I’m surprised that the last person standing to ignite the tunnels is supposed to be Melanie:

(MAG199) ARCHIVIST: So what’s the plan? MELANIE: I reckon me and Georgie go for the mainline, and hopefully they won’t notice us. GEORGIE: I’ll need a torch. They might notice that. BASIRA: I’ll give a diversion. I’ll try and draw them off. MELANIE: And if they see Georgie’s torch, we just go to Plan B. She becomes another distraction, and I go solo. GEORGIE: I don’t like the thought of you going on your own. MELANIE: And I don’t like the thought of you being chased by manky old archivists, but there it is. MARTIN: Okay. [EXHALE] So what are you going to do when you find it? GEORGIE: We’ve got some old tools. I guess we just… mess with it until we smell gas, and then… back off, set something burning and leg it. It can’t be that hard to break a valve.

… since Georgie had been the one to take the lighter, and didn’t present it as an element she would require in their plan. It’s possible that she’s going to give it over to Melanie and just retrieved the lighter for that goal but mmm, I’m still having doubts about it.

* I love Melanie’s “manky old Archivists”, I’m going to miss her so much ;_;

* … screaming a bit because GEORGIE, if you smell gas, it’s TOO LATE to ignite something without getting caught in the middle of an explosion…………. It’s gonna go very wrong, isn’t it.

* Sob, Melanie&Georgie had been resolute about doing something in MAG191, and Georgie still wanted to be careful about the old Archivists at the beginning of MAG192… but now, they’re really ready to risk everything, uh…

- Melanie was way more careful (and less confrontational) with Jon now that they had to establish the plan, and I wonder if Georgie asked her to tone it down or if Melanie made a conscious effort since they needed to pool their resources and collaborate? I’m really curious about Jon’s wording here:

(MAG199) MELANIE: … Jon, you’re sure about this whole gas main thing? It just seems… I don’t know, really mundane. ARCHIVIST: It’s what Annabelle said. And she wasn’t lying – at least, she didn’t think she was. BASIRA: Well, it’s a bit late for second-guessing.

Because what Annabelle thinks and the reality of things could be very different things. I’m still having some doubts about Oliver and her explaining how their patrons work and presenting them as Fears-that-can-think – it’s fitting in a way but… we also had examples of older avatars (Simon, Arthur) pointing out that they couldn’t guess what their patrons wanted except for some cravings. Something I could see is about the relation between avatars and their Fears (between humans and fears): the idea that the Fears might be… whatever people project on them, and them modelling themselves in turn. Could The End kill people in this world if Oliver wasn’t convinced that it could do it? Could The Web feel so omnipresent and powerful if Annabelle and Jon weren’t projecting their own fears on it?

- Georgie gave me so many red flags this episode…

(MAG199) GEORGIE: Well, we’ll do what we can but… this is it. Whatever it takes, right? If there’s a price, we pay it. No hesitations.

And that one was especially bad by itself, but it also echoed Gertrude’s last instructions to her potential successor:

(MAG161) GERTRUDE: You are entering a new world, a place I’ve lived for most of my life. A place… [SIGH] A place that will often demand a high price from you. Pay it without hesitation, because one way or another, the world is now on your shoulders.

Basically paraphrasing what Gertrude said? Bad sign. Baaad sign.

- There might have been a small misunderstanding between Melanie and Jon there ;;

(MAG199) MELANIE: Sure he can! Just magic-laser-eye zap him or whatever, same as with all the others. MARTIN: [SIGH] MELANIE: Like he did to Helen. ARCHIVIST: Listen, Melanie, I– MELANIE: It’s fine. If we all get out of this, we can talk it through, and, if not, well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? ARCHIVIST: I suppose not.

Since Jon had been unaware that Martin had broken the news to her already, and that Melanie already knew that Helen was bad news… but had learned from Basira that Melanie used to be close to her:

(MAG190) MELANIE: Oh! Oh, I nearly forgot! Careful of Helen, if you see her. MARTIN: Mm? MELANIE: Uh, she turned up a while back and tried to eat Celia. MARTIN: She was here? MELANIE: Yes… A few times. [INHALE] Looking back, I was so stupid! MARTIN: Because you kind of liked her? MELANIE: Yes. Yes… Honestly, I had started to think she was on our side. MARTIN: Yeah. MELANIE: [SIGH] MARTIN: Jon killed her. MELANIE: [SPLUTTERING] Uh, sorry, what?! MARTIN: Yeah, she tried to– I wasn’t there, but they got into a standoff and he… he destroyed her. MELANIE: He can do that? MARTIN: Mm! MELANIE: Well! I mean that’s… that’s interesting to know.

(MAG195) ARCHIVIST: … I also killed Helen? BASIRA: Oh! Right. ARCHIVIST: Yeah… [CONSIDERED ROWING] BASIRA: Didn’t expect that. ARCHIVIST: She was dangerous. And not like the others out there. It was only going to be a matter of time before– BASIRA: No, no, I get it. Honestly, it’s kind of a relief. How did Melanie take it? ARCHIVIST: Melanie? BASIRA: Yeah, she and… she and Helen were pretty tight back when, uh… Oh… ARCHIVIST: What? BASIRA: Back when you were in your coma. ARCHIVIST: I see…! Well, I haven’t told her yet, so… I suppose I have that to look forward to when we get back.

So: from Melanie’s point of view, she used to be close to Helen but learned independently that Helen wasn’t her friend and was actually dangerous for them. From Jon’s point of view, Melanie used to be close with Helen and might have just learned that he had killed her (and might be sad about it). But Melanie was dry about it and it came as an accusation, which immediately made Jon defensive about it. They can’t really manage to interact without making a conscious effort to not rub the other the wrong way, uh…?

Cries, still, because they’ll never talk it through, uh. ;;

- I am REALLY concerned about Martin being adamant that Jon couldn’t be the one to kill Jonah because of the potential consequences…

(MAG199) MELANIE: And it’s hardly going to be a picnic for you either. You’re going up that tower to kill Elias, and if we muck up the timing, you’ll be up there when it blows. MARTIN: … Jon can’t do it. ARCHIVIST: What? […] MARTIN: You’re not listening. I mean, if he kills Jonah, then knowing our luck he’s just gonna end up taking his place in the Panopticon, isn’t he? GEORGIE: [SIGH] Good point. MARTIN: He can come up with me, but when it actually comes to Jonah… BASIRA: You’ll have to be the one to do it. MARTIN: Yeah. ARCHIVIST: Martin… I don’t– BASIRA: Have you got this? We can trade if you don’t think you can do it. MARTIN: No. No, I can do it.

… because it’s not what Jon had said:

(MAG193) MARTIN: So not that then, but… wh–what about something, like… physical? ARCHIVIST: I… What? MARTIN: Look, I know it’s all about… dream logic and metaphor and all that… stuff, but, you know, what if we just… what if we just grabbed him and, you know, pulled him down? Or, or just threw something heavy at him? ARCHIVIST: Uh… […] You were right. MARTIN: About what? ARCHIVIST: His body is vulnerable. A–at least to me. MARTIN: … What’s the catch? ARCHIVIST: I could kill his body, sever the link, break The Eye’s power, and… Jonah Magnus would die. MARTIN: Okay, that sounds good but…? ARCHIVIST: But… that wouldn’t actually harm The Eye itself. And with him gone it would… it would choose a suitable replacement. MARTIN: Oh. ARCHIVIST: If we kill Jonah Magnus… I take his place. MARTIN: Oh, god… ARCHIVIST: And I think… that’s exactly what it wants…!

Jon said that killing Jonah would lead to Beholding taking a replacement, not necessarily the person who’d kill Jonah… and regarding “suitable replacement”, Martin was emphasised as Eye-aligned this season (and Lonely):

(MAG183) ARCHIVIST: Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements, The Eye is… fond of you. You’re not getting thrown into your own personal hell, which means… MARTIN: [QUIETLY] That one of them belongs to me. But that’s… Ho–how can I be a “Watcher”? I, I didn’t even know it existed! ARCHIVIST: But you’ve suspected for a while now, haven’t you? MARTIN: Maybe? But that’s not “watching”! ARCHIVIST: Do you want me to tell you about it? MARTIN: No. … Yes. N–no, no, I don’t know, I don’t know. [SIGH] [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: It’s a small domain. A swirling mix of The Eye and The Lonely.

And was supposed to take Jonah’s place at the end of season 4 precisely thanks to his connection to Beholding:

(MAG158) PETER: I want to use the powers of this place to learn about The Extinction: what it’s doing, where it’s manifesting. Then we can stop it. MARTIN: And you need me for this? PETER: Correct! Without a connection to The Eye, any attempt to use it would likely end… very messily indeed! But thankfully, it just so happens that you hold such a connection. MARTIN: So that’s it… Both “lonely” and “watching”. PETER: You must admit you’re the perfect candidate. […] You’ll have to dispose of the current occupant. MARTIN: Curren–… [QUICK FOOTSTEPS] [SHARP BREATHING] … Who is that? PETER: Jonah Magnus! His… body, at least. Sitting here; watching; binding it all together; growing ever older. If you want to take his place, well… MARTIN: … I’ll need to kill him. PETER: Yes. Don’t worry, though. I brought a knife. […] Martin. What are you doing? MARTIN: I’m… saying no. I refuse! Game over. [KNIFE CLATTERING ON THE GROUND]

Jon hadn’t mentioned whether Martin would be able to hurt Elias (just that he could), but we’ve seen that dream-logic could be a factor to hurt each other: Basira could kill Daisy, Daisy could hurt Jon through their connection. Given that Martin was once expected to kill Jonah (did Jonah fear that Martin would choose this?), and that Martin has felt guilty all season about the fact that he feels like he could have stopped things if he had just knifed Jonah:

(MAG174) MARTIN: All those lies you told me… You helped to do this, you turned the world into your… your playground! SIMON: Hum… Not to be a pedant, but if you recall, I was actually doing a favour for Peter. And if Peter had won, none of this would have happened.

(MAG186) MARTIN: [HEAVY SIGH] If we’re glad, why do I feel so… ALSO MARTIN: Guilty? Because you feel guilty about everything. MARTIN: That’s… That’s not– ALSO MARTIN: […] The end of the entire world? MARTIN: If I’d done what Peter had asked… If, if I’d not chickened out, and just killed Elias when I had the chance…! ALSO MARTIN: Really? Really, that’s how you’re choosing to remember it? “Chickening out”? MARTIN: I remember it was the wrong choice…! ALSO MARTIN: You choose to remember it that way, and so the guilt– MARTIN: [SIGH] I–I get it, all right? But I need it, I, I choose the guilt, because… ALSO MARTIN: [LEADING] “Because”? MARTIN: Because it motivates me to do better!

I could see Martin managing to hurt him thanks to this. But regarding what could come afterwards:

I’m concerned about the fact Jon tried to object during the discussion and that nobody listened to him… as if Jon was already anticipating something to go very badly because he knows something the others don’t. Overall: what if Martin can’t kill Jonah? What if Martin kills Jonah and Beholding takes Jon anyway? What if Martin kills Jonah and Beholding picks Martin as a replacement?

(Mental picture of Jon screaming “Take me, not him!”, since we’ve been in the season 1 nostalgia this episode… ;_;)

- Aouch for Melanie falling back into old habits…

(MAG199) MELANIE: Make sure it hurts. MARTIN: Oh, I will. MELANIE: … Good enough for me.

(MAG117) MELANIE: I have my own stuff to take care of, they think they’re giving me a chance to “face my demons”, by helping to take down Elias. They don’t get that the only way to deal with something like him is to watch his eyes go dead with your hands around his throat. [SHAKY INHALE] I’ll… play it their way, for now. But when it comes down to it… I want – to see him – dead. […] [INHALE] So… yes. That’s it. That’s all you’re getting, because it hurt like hell to live through, and I didn’t do it so you could stroke your chin and call it fascinating. … Good luck, Jon. I do hope you win. [INHALE] But I also hope it hurts…!

- So, resting time:

(MAG199) GEORGIE: Okay. Sounds like we’ve got… something like a plan. MARTIN: [SOUND OF ASSENT] BASIRA: Makes a nice change. [VARIOUS SOUNDS OF ASSENT] MELANIE: [BRIGHTLY] It does, doesn’t it? Eh! Uh… so. When do we actually do it? GEORGIE: First thing tomorrow. That’ll give us time to prep and rest.

Georgie had already explained how they evaluated “tomorrow” in the tunnels and without any clock:

(MAG190) GEORGIE: Look. We’re all tired, and you still seem a little… disoriented by the tunnels. Let’s get some rest. We can talk about next moves tomorrow. ARCHIVIST: And how do you know when tomorrow is? GEORGIE: We generally err on the side of caution and sleep in…! ARCHIVIST: Sounds good.

So they’ll probably do the same ;;

- Basira thanking Jon for helping her with Daisy (and for helping her personally) made my heart break a bit and really made it sink in that it was likely the last time some (most? all?) of them would talk to each other, or that they won’t be in any state to discuss things like this afterwards. It was also fitting that Jon got his private moments with Georgie, with Martin, with Basira… but not with Melanie. That bridge burned, uh.

- Overall, although with interesting points and heart-wrenching and bittersweet and tender and intimate moments, it was… quite a depressing episode in the whole scale of things?

* The episode gave the impression that it was validating everything about The Web: that Jon had indeed been “Chosen” as the bringer of the apocalypse and had been a right pick for it; that Annabelle had been right when she told Martin that she just needed to tell them the truth for them to do what she wanted; that The Web scheming for centuries to open the crack and prepare its escape, and bringing the apocalypse about just to escape and infest other dimensions… worked. That everyone, regardless of their motivations and feelings, has indeed come to the conclusion that arranged The Web and served its plans, that The Web… is very casually winning just as planned.

* The episode didn’t talk about what would come after, for the characters. Jon briefly explained to Martin what was likely to happen to him, Annabelle confirmed it, but… the episode gave the impression that characters weren’t truly expecting to come out of this alive in the first place.

* Jon’s silences in the last sequences were so sad? He barely managed to sneak in a few words. He couldn’t contribute to the plan. Martin presented him as optional while others are taking care of the action. Yes, it used to be all on Jon but the fact that he couldn’t even contribute and that others ignored him when he tried to object about Martin being the one to kill Jonah was just so heartbreaking, as if he was already silenced and once again not in control of things that would happen…?

- I want to err on the side of caution but, despite it, I can’t help but wonder if some of the Team Archive interactions weren’t… staged a bit for the tape recorders. It’s very suspicious that they apparently got updated on the Hill Top Road situation, but that nobody commented about the tape recorders turning on (although they now know that it means The Web is spying on them and/or that their tapes will be heard by other people in other worlds and associated with the Fears). Melanie and Georgie had taken notice of them when Jon&Martin had arrived in the tunnels for the first time, Melanie was good at hearing the tape recorder turning on… but nothing this time around. Is it possible that they’re planning something else, too, and that it required The Web and The Eye (the tapes and Jon) to not know about it, a bit like how the assistants had put on a show in front of Elias in season 3?

(MAG116) ELIAS: Now! If you’ll excuse me. [DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES] BASIRA: Do you think he bought it? MARTIN: We’ll talk about it later. ARCHIVIST: I doubt we’ll get time, we need to go. MARTIN: It’s fine. We’ve got this, okay. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … Okay.

Is it why Georgie took the lighter?

I don’t want to bank on it but the fact that nobody has commented about the tape recorders since Annabelle revealed what they were and their purpose has been any nagging at me, so, mmmm…

If MAG200 actually shows the action as it happens, I’m wondering about a few things:

* How are they planning to time up the explosion and the Jonah murder? Jon couldn’t know about the tunnels when he was outside of them, and according to what we’ve heard in MAG192, climbing the tower was a very long process. It’s possible that Jon actually has some awareness of the tunnels as long as he’s in the tower (since both are connected), or that they’ll go for the murder once they hear the explosion coming to them, but how would Georgie&Melanie coordinate to not do anything before Jon&Martin are the top? (When I’m wondering about it, I can think of a few options: Jon&Martin dropping something once they’re at the top, to convey they’ve arrived, or maybe relying on whether a tape recorder clicks on, as a signal that Nothing Interesting Is Happening Up There And It’s Your Turn To Do Something, etc.)

* Will we hear Rosie again? Jon&Martin might have to pass in front of her again to reach Elias. Will they evacuate her, will she stay with them?

* … Surprisingly and yet fittingly: we might hear Jonah/Elias in the last episode. (And funnily enough: it would be the 4th episode where he would talk this season, which means this wouldn’t even be the season with the least amount of Elias appearances! He was in 3 episodes in season 1 (MAG017, MAG039, MAG040) and in 4 episodes in season 2 (MAG048, MAG060, MAG067, MAG080). Season 3 was an outlier that really got us used to hearing him a lot.)

* I’m still squinting about the fact that Annabelle told them to “destroy the Archives” and that they translated it into “destroy the Panopticon” while both Jonah and Oliver designated Jon as the “Archive(s)”…

* If they succeed, and if it all goes accordingly, I am really wondering about the state of the world post-Fears – and it might not be something we’ll get to witness. But mostly, I’m curious/concerned about the complicated cases: if people do remember what happened to them and who were the rulers, wouldn’t it be likely that things turn into chaos as people get back at the people who hurt them? What about the cases Basira mentioned of rulers who hated being in that position? What about, for example, Callum? (Who is currently doing horrible things and… is also a traumatised kid.)

* I wonder if the episode will have an actual date as the case number, and if it would correspond to another world’s timeline or this one. “0181810–B”, as things pick up from the point Jon had read Jonah’s letter (MAG160’s was “0181810”)? “0212503” to play with the release date, since it’s the same release date for everyone for once (no early access for Patreon)? “0111507” to play with the date of Jacob’s statement, heard in the very first trailer? Something beginning with “015” as, in another world, someone (Jon or Sasha or someone else) becomes a new Head Archivist after Gertrude’s death?

* If The Web succeeds and leaves with the tapes, will they be like the Fear Books used to be perceived in this world? Will Jon’s voice be perceived as a bringer of disaster and tragedies? What will happen to Jon’s voice is an interesting question given that this episode ended with… Jon being withdrawn, barely being part of the conversation, trying to object and not being heard, as if his voice was already partially silenced by the others.

* Technically, since the tapes are supposed to leave with The Web, the series might cut off with the tapes leaving, but… other configurations are possible. We could finally hear something without the mediation of the tapes. We could get a new point of view from another world, inheriting the fears. We could be deprived of the action, since the plan was laid out, and have someone (Martin?) recalling what happened, much later, etc.

In previous seasons, the 40th episode was more about the aftermath of the action and posing elements that would be fundamental during the next one: MAG040 explained how Prentiss had died, what had happened to Jon&Tim, but also confirmed (to the audience) that something had replaced Sasha without the others noticing, and revealed that Gertrude’s obviously-murdered-body had been found in the tunnels, leading to Jon’s secret investigations in season 2; MAG080 showed Leitner explaining to Jon who was likely to be Gertrude’s murderer, what the Institute was about, that Jon was now a servant of Beholding and that a Fear ritual was incoming, leading to Jon’s quest to stop the Unknowing; MAG120 confirmed who had come out of the Unknowing alive, revealed what Jon’s dreams were about, had Peter replacing Elias as Head of the Institute and confirmed Peter’s interest in Martin; MAG160 had Jon&Martin running away, Jon receiving Jonah’s letter hidden amongst the statements (and a few tapes likely sent by The Web) and being forced to read his incantation, provoking the current apocalypse.

MAG200’s title has been made public on twitter, so – “Last Words” it is. It sure feels like the series is ending ;; It’s fitting for both the characters and the podcast itself, and I’m screaming that it had appeared in the first episode of this season:

(MAG161) ARCHIVIST: Hang on, have you been recording this? [RUSTLING OF CLOTHES] TIM: Oh, yeah! I… just thought it might be nice, you know, something to look back on when we’re all old and sick of each other…! […] Now, all right, all right; fine! Look: I’m turning it off. Any last words for your future selves?

… in the specific context of leaving a message for the future.

#yaayyyy i posted it more than 17h before the ep release! (shhhh that it would be Late if we had gotten an EA release)#i have absolutely no idea how i'll manage to get 200's done given how i had finished the last episodes pre-hiatus #at the end of every hiatus every time. i'll try but. deadlines are my worst enemies and my best friends.#mag199 #tma liveblog #tma season 5 #long post/#the magnus archives #overall: CRIES CRIES CRIES i'm gonna miss these nerds.............#and WorriedTM.........

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] Also on AO3

Chapter 19: Martin

It shouldn’t really startle Martin when he falls asleep mid-conversation. After all, it’s been a rather traumatic twenty-four hours, both physically and emotionally. He’s in a decent amount of pain, and he needs rest to heal. He knows all of that, logically. But he’s also never been good at sleeping if there’s anyone else awake in the room, so when he wakes up in a dark room and realizes that the last thing he recalls is Tim starting—but not finishing—one of his terrible jokes, he’s not sure what surprises him more, the fact that he fell asleep or the fact that he actually feels rested.

Sort of, anyway. He’s sore all over—the painkillers have obviously run their course—but he’s not too tired to think, and he’s obviously slept deeply. He stares at the blurry void currently standing in for the ceiling and tries to figure out how he feels about that. It should be a good thing, but it’s…well, there’s no other word for it, it’s weird.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that weird. Not as weird as the fact that he’s been talking to a future version of himself for eight days—somehow without knowing he’s blind—or the fact that his future self and Jon’s future self seem insanely close. Not as weird as being held hostage by a woman riddled with worms or attacked in his workplace by that same woman and her moderately-sized army of parasites. Not as weird as entities fueled by fear or an apocalypse being caused by a semi-immortal man currently disguised as an ordinary pencil-pusher. It is, in fact, the ordinary kind of weird, and really, Martin shouldn’t be getting hung up on it. Nevertheless, here he is, unable to understand when he came to trust the rest of the Archival team enough that he feels safe enough to fall asleep while they’re still awake to do things to him.

He really needs therapy, something he’s known for years, but several of the reasons he needs therapy tie into why he avoids therapy and it’s just a whole mess. The only reason he hasn’t done it that doesn’t tie into yet another trauma or blow to his psyche is the fact that he really can’t afford it. He’s barely scraping by as it is, and God only knows how he’s going to manage the need to move. He’s been in the same building for eleven years and rent’s gone up twice, and it’s still cheaper than most other places. Even if he does find someplace that doesn’t cost more, he’ll have to come up with the first month’s rent and the security deposit ahead of time, and then there’s the fact that he’s going to have to replace pretty much everything he owns that he didn’t manage to gather up for his temporary stay in the Archives; Jon and Sasha came back from getting their things and informed him regretfully that Mrs. Mattson had already thrown out what was left in his old flat and rented it out again. Add in the fact that he has to make up almost half of the fees at the home his mother insisted on moving into, and he’s not going to have the spare funds for, well, anything. Let alone therapy.

He sighs heavily and tries to sit up. It’s nice of Tim to let him sleep in the recliner, but when he first wakes up, it’s a bit of a struggle. And he honestly can’t figure out how he keeps lying back, since he’s pretty sure he falls asleep still sitting up. Maybe he’s doing it in his sleep, or maybe he’s just so tired he doesn’t remember settling back. Whatever it is, he discovered yesterday that it’s hard for him to use the appropriate strength to manipulate the recliner back into an upright position. Or at least to do it quietly. The others are still asleep—as far as he knows—and he doesn’t want to disturb them. He can tell himself all he wants that they need rest, that they deserve to have their sleep uninterrupted, that it’s been a rough couple of days for them too, but if he’s being honest it cycles back to his fear of the consequences of disturbing his mother while she was resting. Nine years and he still can’t make himself turn on a light before sunrise if the door isn’t firmly shut or listen to music without headphones after four in the afternoon. He wonders if he’ll ever be free.

The handle engages suddenly and the footrest goes down with a deceptively soft thwump that rocks Martin forward abruptly. He bites back a gasp of pain and waits for the world to stop swimming.

“Martin?”

The whispered call from not far away makes him flinch. Martin looks up, apologies ready on his lips, then realizes he’s not wearing his glasses and has no idea who was talking. He fumbles for them and puts them on just as Jon steps carefully around the end of the coffee table and perches on the end of the sofa next to him.

“I heard you starting to wake up,” Jon says softly. He holds something out—a mug. “I, ah, I was making tea anyway, so I thought…”

“O-oh.” Martin blinks in surprise and reaches out carefully to take the mug. “Ah, thank you?”

Their fingers brush, and it’s all Martin can do not to drop the mug or spill it on himself. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks. God, it’s probably visible even with no lights.

“You’re welcome. I—you do so much for us. It seemed like high time someone did something for you for a change.” Jon pauses, then adds, “I hope I got it right. I—I know I haven’t exactly asked, but it—it seemed like what I remembered from after dinner?”

Martin takes a cautious sip of the tea and nearly chokes in surprise. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He can just make out Jon’s unfairly attractive smile before he brings his own mug to his lips. They sit in silence for a long moment, both of them seemingly lost in thought. Martin isn’t sure how much he’s actually thinking, though, beyond panicking slightly. It’s the first time he’s been alone with Jon, really, since he started living in the Archives. And after the last couple of days…he still has no idea where the two of them stand. If they’re on a friendlier footing, if they’ve found common ground, or if things are going to go back to normal once the initial shock wears off.

“What time is it?” he finally asks.

“About four in the morning. You’ve been asleep roughly nine hours.”

Martin exhales. “Christ, I had no idea I fell asleep that early.”

Jon tilts his head slightly. “Well, you’re healing. You’re likely going to do a fair amount of sleeping. We tried to keep it down.”

“I don’t mean to be an inconvenience like that,” Martin says, his stomach twisting. The idea that everyone has to be quiet because of him…

“Don’t be ridiculous, Martin, you’re not an inconvenience.” Jon sets his mug down on the table and turns to face Martin fully. “I—I know I’ve been overly critical of you over the last year. I really am sorry. I never meant to—I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“It’s—”

“Don’t say it’s all right. It isn’t. You’ve never been anything but diligent and conscientious, you’ve always gone above and beyond, and I—” Jon exhales. “The truth is, I-I was scared. I didn’t feel…adequate. Like I wasn’t up for the task. I didn’t—I never applied for this job either. Elias picked me, and I had no idea why. I don’t have a background in library science, o-or administration or anything like that. I couldn’t have told you why he offered me the job, but…well, I’m not sure I could have said no if I’d wanted to. A-and then you turned up in my office and said Elias had appointed you, and…I honestly thought he’d sent you to keep an eye on me. To, to report back to him if I stepped out of line or didn’t do the job properly. And then Rosie gave me a copy of your CV and I saw how long you’d been with the Institute, and all your credentials—”

“Most of which were fake.”

“Which I didn’t know at the time. I—I got intimidated.” Jon gives a small laugh. “I saw someone with more experience than all three of us put together and I thought, God, he wanted this job and didn’t get it and now he’s going to be reporting back to Elias every time I step out of line. I kept putting you down on the official recordings because—I don’t know, maybe part of me was hoping it would influence things in my favor if there was ever a dispute? And…I think I was projecting a lot of my own insecurities onto you. I am deeply sorry.”

Well, Jon won’t let him say it’s all right, but…Martin swallows hard and tries to smile. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I should have told you the truth sooner, but…I don’t know. I was afraid you’d fire me.”

“Considering the first interaction we ever had was me threatening you over that dog, I’d be afraid I’d fire me too.” Jon pauses. “I wonder what would have happened if I’d actually tried.”

Martin actually doesn’t want to think about it. He looks into the depths of the mug in his hands, then sets it on the end table where his glasses were previously. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t—oh, you mean the ‘I heard you starting to wake up’ thing? I was already awake.” Jon sighs. “I honestly don’t sleep very well these days. I-it’s not just the nightmares, it’s also…the worrying. About you. All three of you, really, but—you in particular.”

“Me?” Martin’s voice is louder than he means it to be. Tim grunts from somewhere else in the room and both Martin and Jon freeze, but after a moment he makes an odd sort of snorfling sound and seems to settle back into sleep. Martin rubs a hand over his mouth, trying to be careful of the bandages.

“Why me?” he asks, remembering to whisper this time.

Jon is silent for a moment. Martin is about to apologize for having asked when he says, “I could be glib and say it’s because you were the one being stalked by Jane Prentiss, and that is part of it, but…it’s also just that it’s you. It’s not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself just as well as Tim or Sasha can. I do. It’s…I really wasn’t sure before the last couple of days why that was. I’m still not completely sure, but I think I have a bit of a better idea.”

“We worry about you, too, you know.” Martin desperately wants to ask what Jon’s idea is, but he also doesn’t want to pry. “Ask, erm, Martin Prime. I asked him what I could do to help and he said not to let you get hurt and I kind of panicked a little.”

Jon chuckles. “I suppose that is a next-to-impossible task.”

“No, I mean I panicked at the idea that you would get hurt,” Martin says. He wonders how much he can say without betraying how he feels. The Primes are close friends, that much is obvious, but he and Jon aren’t anywhere near that point and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances of even that by blurting out that he’s fallen for his boss like a ton of bricks. This is also probably not the time to bring it up. They’re all a bit…emotionally compromised right now, and he’s still not sure what’s going to happen when the adrenaline of the last two days wears off. Even if Jon’s just said he worries about Martin. Fleetingly, he wonders if Martin Prime ever told Jon Prime how he felt and when, and he wishes it was a question he thought to ask while they had some time alone in the last week. “I-I mean, that was my biggest worry when I realized Jane Prentiss had followed me home, you know? I wasn’t just worried about what she’d do to me. I was worried she might…follow me to the Archives. Come after one of you, but especially you. A-and then when she texted you after I made my statement…” He sighs. “It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. But there was a part of me thinking that if I needed to stay in the Archives, maybe the rest of you should have too, you know?”

“No, you’re—you’re not wrong. Truthfully, that was one of the things that I kept obsessing over last night,” Jon confesses in a low voice. “When I saw—when I realized—” He breaks off and looks away. “All I could think was that something had happened, that you could be hurt, and that you’d been alone and—God, I should have insisted we all stay. Or that you come stay with one of us from the outset. Although in retrospect…I’m not certain what would have happened if your counterpart had been alone in the Archives at the time. Not that I knew he was there, but…”

“Yeah,” Martin says quietly. He swallows against the sudden, unexpected lump in his throat. “I’m—I’m still glad you weren’t there, though. I-I was glad when it happened, and I was even more glad when I saw Jon Prime and…honestly, Jon, this sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Least of all you. O-or Tim,” he adds hastily. “Or Sasha, but, I mean, she didn’t…not in their timeline, anyway.”

“No, but…that doesn’t mean we wanted you to have to get hurt, either,” Jon says. “It’s not exactly a fair trade.” He looks up at Martin. “A-are you in pain? Do you need your painkillers?”

The answer is yes, but Martin fights the urge to nod. “They, ah, they have to be taken with food. It’s—it’s not as bad as it was yesterday, at least.”

“Hold on. I think I can help with that.”

“Jon—” Martin begins, but it’s too late. Jon has already stood up from the sofa and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Martin swears under his breath in Polish, then manages to get to his feet without hurting himself. He carefully picks up both mugs of tea and follows Jon, a bit more slowly. Partly it’s the pain, partly it’s force of habit. He doesn’t know where the joists or creaky floorboards might be, and it’s still early, he can’t risk waking people up because he’s walking too loudly. He’s already had one close call too many tonight.

He makes it to the kitchen. Jon is messing about with something, using the night-light mounted above the sink to see by. Martin can’t see what he’s doing. He sets the mugs down carefully on the table and asks, “What are you doing?”

Jon jumps and whirls around, brandishing a butter knife in one hand. He relaxes. “Martin—I didn’t hear you come in. I—I just thought—” He gestures at the counter. “It’s not much, but I thought I’d make you a sandwich at least. Get something in your stomach so you can take the pills.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Martin protests, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-I can wait until—”

“I’m sure you can, but there’s no reason you should,” Jon says briskly. “It’s been enough time that you’re certainly able to take your painkillers, and you need them, so why wait and make yourself feel worse?”

There’s a certain amount of logic in that, Martin has to admit. “I just…don’t want to be a bother.”

Jon places a sandwich in front of him firmly and lays a hand on his arm. “Martin,” he says sincerely, “the last thing you are is a bother. Sit down and eat. I’ll be right back.”

He heads out of the kitchen, leaving Martin incredibly confused and slightly embarrassed.

Lacking any better option, he sits down to eat the sandwich Jon has made for him. He doesn’t know what to expect, but it’s certainly not what he bites into. The first taste of it on his tongue almost makes him cry, and he closes his eyes, savoring it.

He hears footsteps and swallows hastily, opening his eyes as Jon comes back into the room. He sets the pill bottle next to Martin’s elbow, then sits down next to him and picks up his mug of tea. “Is it all right?”

“It’s perfect,” Martin says before he thinks it through and almost swallows his tongue. Oh, well, no taking it back now—best to press forward. “I didn’t know Tim ate cherry preserves.”

“I don’t think he does. He teased me a bit about being ‘elitist’ the first time he saw me eating them.”

Martin stops mid-chew and definitely swallows a too-solid bite. It takes him a second before he’s able to speak. “You like them, too?”

Jon’s eyes widen. “Too? I—I mean, obviously you like them, you’re eating the sandwich—God, I didn’t even think to ask, I just assumed…”

“No, it’s—I’ve always liked them,” Martin says. “My—my granddad had a couple cherry trees in his backyard. He used to make preserves every year, and…I dunno. They just remind me of visiting him.” He takes another bite of the sandwich.

Jon nods thoughtfully. “I’ve always been fond of cherry preserves. Well, cherry anything, actually. My grandmother used to bake cherry pies on my birthday in lieu of a cake.”

Martin smiles. “Granddad always did that for me, too.”

“I’ll remember that for next year.” Jon smiles, too.

For a few minutes, there’s silence as Martin finishes the sandwich. When the last bite is gone, Jon takes the plate and gets up to wash it while Martin struggles for a moment to get the cap off the pill vial and shake out a painkiller. The moment feels oddly…domestic. Calm. Cosy. Martin isn’t sure what to do with it, but he decides to try and let himself enjoy it. It’s never worked for him before, but he can give it a shot.

Finally, Jon sits back down next to him. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” It’s not just the painkiller, which probably hasn’t actually started to work yet. It’s the tea, and the sandwich, and Jon being nice. He tries to figure out how to articulate it, then finally says, “It’s the first time in I don’t know how long that I don’t feel afraid.”

Jon exhales. “I know the feeling. I mean—I know I should be. The world is objectively terrifying, and learning what we learned today made that exponentially worse. But…this right here? I’m definitely calmer and more relaxed than I’ve been since I took the Archivist job.”

Something in Martin’s chest warms at the comment. It probably isn’t meant like that, but it’s nice to hear he’s not making Jon stressed by his mere presence, at least. And, hey, he can dream. All he says, though, is, “’S nice.”

“It is.” Jon takes a sip of his tea and stares into it for a moment, then snorts softly and shakes his head.

“What?”

“It’s just…something my counterpart said. While we were talking outside. I hadn’t thought about it before, but…he’s right.” Jon looks up. “He told me he hasn’t finished a cup of tea in years that—that his Martin hasn’t made for him. It just occurred to me that I’m the same way. Even when…those two weeks you weren’t in the office? When Jane Prentiss was—” He swallows hard. “I just realized that I would brew myself a cup of tea and it would just…sit on my desk and get cold. I never managed to drink more than half of it. I suppose it just tastes better when you make it.”

Martin doesn’t know quite how to respond to that. “You make tea just fine. This is perfect.”

Jon hums noncommittally. He seems to be debating with himself, then sighs. “You’re far more observant than I am at times…you know they’re together, right?”

Martin’s brain pulls up short. “Wait, what?”

“Our…counterparts. The Primes. They’re—they love each other. He told me that when I asked him, and…God, in retrospect, it’s so obvious. I-I suppose I just didn’t see it.” Jon looks suddenly nervous as he scans Martin’s face. “You’re more…in tune with that sort of thing than I. You did know, didn’t you?”

“N-no,” Martin manages to stammer out. Oh, God, he can feel his cheeks heating up. Jon’s right, though, in retrospect it’s obvious. He thinks about all the little interactions the Primes have had with one another, the way they both fuss over each other, the way they seem to know what the other is thinking. The lighthearted, affectionate banter, the near-constant physical contact. Jon Prime rubbing his thumb over Martin Prime’s knuckles to calm himself when he gets overwhelmed, Martin Prime reaching for Jon Prime instinctively when he needs a hand up.

Then, suddenly, he remembers the way Martin Prime spoke about the person who was coming back to meet him, when he assured Martin that if they’ve come through somewhere else, they’re looking for me. Logically, he knows now that person was Jon Prime, but he somehow didn’t make the connection between the two. It’s as if his brain saw Jon Prime walk in and instantly erased every conclusion that conversation made him come to. It didn’t occur to him, at the time, that Jon would even bother to bring him back in time with him, let alone be looking for him. Now he takes a mental step back, re-evaluates every moment between the Primes in light of that conversation, and wants to smack himself on the forehead for being an idiot.

“You’re right, though. I really should have figured that out sooner,” he murmurs. “God knows I had enough information to put it together. Guess I just assumed there couldn’t possibly be a universe where I—”

He snaps off the words as quickly as he can. Oh, God, he really almost said it out loud. Almost let Jon know how he feels. He’s not stupid, the Primes have a lot more history between them than he and Jon do, and he doesn’t doubt for a minute that they haven’t been together long, relatively speaking. Probably only since Jon Prime rescued Martin Prime from the Lonely. The circumstances that led them to this point are ones they’re trying to undo, and Martin seriously doubts he and Jon will ever get to that point. It’s best if he tries to let this thing die now and be happy for his counterpart getting this much.

Jon looks like he wants to ask him a question, but doesn’t. Instead, he says quietly, “They weren’t going to tell you. Us, I suppose, but…I asked him. How he felt about his Martin. Mostly because I was trying to figure out how I felt about you, and I thought knowing his thoughts would help untangle mine.”

Martin has to try twice before he can get the words out. “Did it?”

Jon gives a small, humorless laugh. “Not really. In truth, it just made things more confusing. I…” He rubs his thumb against the knuckle of his index finger, the same nervous tic Jon Prime uses when he doesn’t have Martin Prime’s hand to hold. “I-I got scared when I arrived at the Institute the other night. I was…there was all that chaos, all those lights and sirens and activity, and—and I realized you weren’t in the crowd. All I could think of was that there’d been a fire and you hadn’t woken in time, or that you’d been trapped and been…burned or breathed in too much of the CO2 or something. I tried to—they wouldn’t let me in after you. Obviously. That makes perfect sense, but…at the time, all I could think of was that you were in there a-and I needed to get to you, that I needed to know you were safe. I was staring at the idea of a world without you and I couldn’t face it. And then…Elias told me Tim and Sasha were down there, and then mentioned Jane Prentiss, and it all got worse and…I don’t know, Martin, I’m rambling. But Tim’s right. I was—I must’ve shouted down half a dozen officials trying to get one of them to tell me where you were, how you were, to—to let me see you. Everyone kept saying you were going to be all right, but I knew I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you.”

“I—I mean, if it had been Sasha or Tim—” Martin begins.

“I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had been them who was hurt. I was definitely worried about them, but…I don’t know.” Jon takes a deep breath. “I’ll be honest. I still don’t really know how I feel. I—I do care about you. I worry about you, I want you to be safe. Beyond that, I—I’m afraid I don’t know.” He manages a small, slightly roguish smile. “I don’t suppose you know how you feel.”

“Oh, Christ,” Martin practically whines. This is not how he wanted any of this to come out, and he doesn’t know if he should say it.

Then it occurs to him that Jon didn’t ask. Jon, who has just learned that he’s developing the ability to force people to answer his questions, and who is probably more likely to do it when he’s tired or stressed out, deliberately avoided actually asking a question. It’s a simple statement. He’s giving Martin permission to not say a word if he doesn’t want to.

Which…actually, weirdly, makes him want to.

He takes a deep breath. “O-okay. The truth is…I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while. I wasn’t going to say anything, because it’s—I mean, I didn’t want to make things weird, a-and I know you—I was just trying for ‘he doesn’t think I’m a complete idiot’ for a while there. I also thought it was just a stupid workplace crush, and I was kind of hoping it would eventually go away on its own. It didn’t. Ever since I started living in the Archives, it’s just got worse. I guess that’s why I didn’t realize how the Primes felt about each other. I kind of thought I was projecting, o-or seeing what I wanted to see, maybe? I don’t know. But I do worry, and I do…I do care.”

“That’s not why you went back to Carlos Vittery’s apartment, is it?” Jon’s voice is so soft Martin almost doesn’t hear it, but his eyes are worried. “Because you thought I…?”

“No,” Martin assures him. “No, I—you know, I know I said I was trying to ‘make sure I’d done my due diligence’ and all that, but what was behind that was that I’d been…I felt pressured to go back. Like a nagging, persistent headache. I get it all the time, really, when I’m doing research. Remember when you sent me to track down that…that Angela woman? For the—”

“The man who was falling to pieces. I remember.”

“I know you got exasperated with me, but I literally couldn’t stop until I’d talked to every Angela I could find. I’d think ‘well, I’m not going to find her, I’m going back to the Institute now,’ but I’d get this blinding headache and it wouldn’t go away until I went ‘okay, just one more.’ It’s only got worse as time goes on. So no, I didn’t…get myself into this mess because I was trying to impress you or whatever.” Martin can’t help the small, nervous chuckle that escapes him. “’Course, if it did impress you, I wouldn’t complain.”

“What impressed me was that you kept your head well enough to survive and get back to your apartment, never mind the Institute,” Jon says warmly. “If it were me, I’d likely have done something stupid like go back for my phone when I realized I’d dropped it.” He sighs. “I—I don’t want to make things awkward. But I also don’t want to…promise anything.”

“I don’t expect anything, Jon.” Martin learned a long time ago not to expect anything. As far as he’s concerned, the phrase good things come to those who wait is inapplicable. In his case, it’s more like good things come to those who aren’t you. He has friends, in Tim and Sasha at least. That’s more than he probably deserves.

Jon studies him for a moment, then smiles slightly and holds out his hand. “How about I apologize for being such an ass to you, and we start with friends and see where it goes from there?”

This is the last thing Martin would have ever anticipated, but he’s certainly not going to object. He smiles in reply and takes Jon’s hand. “Deal.”

They shake on it—very gently, Jon is careful of the healing wounds on Martin’s hands—and then sit back. Jon studies Martin. “Did they tell you how long you’ll need to wear the bandages?”

“Until things stop bleeding when I take them off?” Martin shrugs. “Hopefully not too long. Some of them are…deeper than others. I’m supposed to make an appointment with my regular doctor for a follow-up in a couple of weeks.”

“We’ll make sure you get there safely,” Jon promises. He picks up his mug and salutes Martin with it. “After all, what are friends for?”

Martin grins, feeling more relaxed than he’s felt in a while, and salutes Jon back. “What indeed?”

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #mentions of emotional abuse #acts of service as a love language

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ethereousdelirious · 5 years ago

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Hey. I was wondering if you'd take a prompt. If so, I've got what I think is a pretty good one. Maybe TMA? "A is sick. B somehow doesn't notice, whatever the reason-swamped with work, out of town, clueless, or just plain busy. Then A collapses. And B is there." thank you

This one just SCREAMED JonMartin, so here it is. Pre-canon, pre-slash.

I don’t know anything about British work culture or working in an archive and I think that’s very sexy of me

Jon huffed in irritation and looked at the box of files on his desk. It had taken hours to organize their contents, and he still had yet to decipher Gertrude's esoteric filing system. Though he despised relying on others, sorting and re-organizing everything in a timely manner all by himself was simply not possible, so he had begrudgingly delegated some tasks to his… assistants.

He wasn't used to having seniority over his peers, and the concept was still strange and uncomfortable in his mind. Of his assistants, only one had yet to check in with him for the day.

With a heavy, annoyed sigh, Jonathan stood and went to go track him down. It would be Martin; talkative, saccharine Martin. He never could just put his head down and get to work, no, he had to ask about your weekend and if you'd gotten your washing machine fixed yet, and oh, by the way, have you been to that new Thai restaurant?

Jonathan ducked into the open-plan office that had mostly deconstructed so the desks could be pushed together to form a large table. Every available surface was covered in letterhead, files, and boxes crudely marked up with Sharpie.

Among the piles sat Sasha, alone and hard at work. She glanced up. "Hi, Jon!"

Jonathan looked around, momentarily distracted. "Where's Tim?" The two were usually inseparable.

"On his break."

"Where's Martin?"

Sasha frowned thoughtfully. "I don't actually know. He must have snuck off somewhere. He's been awfully quiet today."

"Martin's been quiet?" Jonathan chuckled. "Is he okay?"

To his surprise, Sasha didn't engage. "To be honest, I'm not sure."

"What, really?"

"Well, to be honest," Sasha said, "I kind of thought he might be with you."

"Me?" Jonathan asked. "What would I have to do with him?"

Sasha just shrugged. "Do you need him for something?"

"I have him a box to sort through three days ago and I haven't heard back yet."

"Why don't you send him an email?"

Jon gave Sasha a withering look. "Nobody checks their email around here."

Unperturbed, Sasha laughed. "Kidding. Well, I'll keep an eye out for Martin and tell him to come to you if I see him."

"Thank you." Jonathan turned to leave, thinking hard.

His first impulse was to check the break room to see if Martin and Tim were slacking off together, but impulse instead drove him to check the empty office that currently housed a supply of extra boxes and old computer monitors.

To Jonathan's surprise (if not slight vindication), Martin actually was in the office. The lights were off and he was seated at the crowded desk with a statement on letterhead paper before him and his head in his hands.

Jonathan opened the door and stepped inside without fanfare. "Martin."

Martin didn't stir upon hearing the door open, but the sound of Jon's voice was enough to make him lift his head. "Hi, Jon," he said softly. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes," Jon said, flat and irritated. "How about the assignment I gave you three days ago?"

"Oh, those?" Martin scrunched up his brow, thinking.

Impatient, Jonathan crossed his arms and shifted his weight into his right foot. Martin was especially slow on the uptake today, for whatever reason, although he'd somehow managed to find the time and energy to make a cup of tea. Of course. Perfect priorities, that man.

"The files," Jonathan prompted, as Martin had trailed off. "Don't tell me you lost them."

"No, no." Martin rubbed his temple, baring his teeth for just a moment. "Sorry, um."

"Take your time," Jonathan said in a voice of acid, "Really, I haven't got anything better to do."

"The box is under my desk," Martin said. Finally. "Well, not my desk. You know, where I sit--"

"Yes, Martin, I know what you meant." Martin nodded shortly, but said nothing. He didn't look nearly as flustered as he should have, only sort of sleepy and bored.

Jonathan surveyed him with disapproval that stopped just short of contempt. "And you're finished?"

"What?" Martin started slightly.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "With the filing."

"Oh. Um, well, no, not exactly, but I--"

"Of course you're not." Jonathan turned on his heel and started to walk away as Martin continued to protest and stammer out excused behind him.

"Jon, wait."

Jonathan paused and turned around. Now Martin looked upset. He placed both hands flat on the desk and hauled himself heavily to his feet like gravity had doubled on him.

Martin continued, "I w-wanred to talk to you…" He swayed and caught himself on the wall. "Oh," he murmured, his eyes half-lidded.

"Martin?" Jonathan started to walk towards him, irritation forgotten. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm…" Martin whispered. His head was down, but what little of his face Jonathan could see was white as a sheet. His knees buckled. Jonathan cried out useless and watched, powerless, as Martin hit the floor.

"Oh, shit." Guilt sat heavy in his chest. Jonathan rushed forward and knelt by Martin's side. Now that he was closer, Jonathan could see the beads of sweat on the back of Martin's neck, the oversaturated flush of his cheeks. "Martin?" At least he was still breathing, that was good. He didn't appear to be bleeding either. Beyond that, Jonathan wasn't sure what to do. Should he get help? Stay in case Martin woke up disoriented?

"Jon?" Martin said softly.

"Oh, thank god." Jon sighed. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" Martin seemed to realize he was on the floor and his eyes widened. "Did I faint?" He tried to sit up, but Jon stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think you should sit up just yet. You look like you have a fever."

"I'm okay, Jon." Martin sat up slowly and pressed his back against the wall. "Really, I'm okay."

Jonathan glared at him. "You just fainted. Most people wouldn't call that 'okay'."

"Obviously I've been better," Martin said, sounding almost irritated. "But I'm not dying or anything. I thought I might've been coming down with something, but it wasn't so bad this morning." At Jonathan's raised eyebrows, he continued, "My throat is a little sore, so I haven't, um, had much to eat or drink today. Sorry."

Jon's knees ached from their prolonged contact with the floor. "Stay there."

As fast as he could, he got a glass of water and brought it back to Martin, who was still sitting just as Jon had left him.

"You're going to drink this," Jonathan said, "and then you're going straight home."

Martin accepted the glass with shaking hands. "I'm really sorry, Jon. I should have stayed home."

For once, Jon reissued the urge to say something snide and mean-spirited. "You couldn't have known." His next words caught in his throat, but he forced them out as well as he could, "And I'm s-- I should 't have been so hard on you."

"It's okay, Jon, really." Martin smiled sadly and drank down the content of the glass.

"Here, let me help you up." Jonathan extended a hand, which Martin took. He rose slowly, cautiously, and braced himself against the wall. Despite his continued insistence that he was fine, Jon could see that he was shaky on his feet and a new sheen of sweat had broken out on his brow.

"You're sure you can make it home?" Jonathan asked, considering the alternatives. "I can have Tim go with you."

Martin looked at him with an indecipherable expression. "No, I'll be okay. I'll text you if I can't make it in tomorrow."

"Don't even think about coming in tomorrow," Jonathan said.

"Alright." They went quiet for a moment, but neither of them moved. Martin took a breath.

"Don't apologize," Jonathan said.

"Okay, sor-- Um." Martin paused. "Thank you. For making sure I was okay."

"Well, of course; I wasn't just going to leave you there on the floor."

"I know. But still. Thank you."

"Well, you're welcome, I suppose." Jonathan licked his lips, feeling unusually flustered. "Now go home, Martin."

"Alright." Martin turned to leave. Just before he got out of earshot, he turned and said, "I am sorry, though." Then he was gone.

Jonathan just shook his head and went back to his office. He had work to do.

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sickfics-for-days · 5 years ago

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Blind Spot

Hello!! I’m here with my first TMA fic! Season 5 is hitting me hard in the whump feels, so spoilers for that. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and boy does it feel good to be back!

They are almost out of the Dark, a fact Martin is grateful for. Ever since Jon had made his...statement, the only thing he wanted was to get to Elias, punch him in the face, then force him to tell them how to undo the apocalypse. Children was where he drew the line.

But it wasn’t just the righteous anger that fueled his desire to leave the dark empty streets behind. Jon was starting to worry him. Ever since they had arrived in this domain, he had been looking increasingly haggard, steps hastened with urgency to leave, but each one seeming to take more effort than the last. Part of the reason Martin had demanded Jon tell him about the Dark was in the vain hope that actually letting out what was building in his head would help. Much to his dismay, he found that, if anything, it made him seem more exhausted. They had been plodding onward for what seemed like hours, Martin dutifully following Jon’s lead as he was forced to watch his steps go from determined speed to the current staggering shuffle.

“Jon?” Martin breaks the silence, too worried to keep quiet any more. “Are- are you okay?”

At his name, the Archivist stops, swaying slightly in the dim light.

“J-Jon? What is it? You’re scaring me.”

Marin expects some kind of dry response alluding to fear being the point, or maybe a tired dismissal on just focusing towards getting out. Instead, his worry slides straight to panic as he watches Jon fold like a house of cards.

“Jon!”

Jon could feel it the moment they stepped into the Dark. The power of the Eye, the Watcher, the Beholding, whatever you wanted to call it, was much dimmer here. He didn’t lie to Martin when he told him that it did not find the fear of children as interesting, but children are not only afraid of the dark. It had placed them here, because the Dark had always been the most effective at blocking its power. So, it kept it fed and satisfied with those it did not care to See. Because it could not, not while Watching the rest of the domains. Jon, the Archivist and harbinger of the Eye, was cut off from the source of his power. A thin trickle remained, enough to ensure that nothing could harm them, but that was all. He chose to show Martin the avatar of the Dark, because he fervently hoped that seeing a child would cause him to reconsider before he was forced to confess that the Eye could not obliterate him with its gaze because no eye can see clearly in the realm of the Dark.

Then Martin had asked to know, to be told about this place. Of all the domains he asked for, it had to be the one that Jon really didn’t know. But he would do anything for Martin, had promised that he would. So, if Martin wanted to really understand the Dark, then he would do everything he could to tell him. He called upon the Eye to show him, and it took everything he had to pull the information that he sought. He fell into the statement, voice monotone as it always was, as he recited the horrors of children. They may be milder to hear, but they were so much more painful to feel.

Once it was done, once Martin had heard enough, Jon was exhausted. His connection to the Eye faded as if it were falling through water, just out of reach unless he was willing to dive deep to chase it. He tried desperately to keep himself from visibly trembling, exhausted from a combination of the effort of keeping the connection and being again cut off from the force that he is more and more certain is sustaining his existence. When Martin said they could go, that the children would just have to hold on a bit longer, Jon was quick to resume the path that he could just barely See through the darkness.

Each step was harder than the last. There was no way Martin could have missed his state by now. He didn’t have the energy to hide his drifting, unconsciously listing to the side, favoring his leg injury from a lifetime ago. He was so tired. Then Martin called his name, and he stopped, waiting to hear what he needed.

Stopping was a mistake. He knew that as soon as his shuffling steps came to a halt. Darkness that he hadn’t been able to see in the corners of his vision crowded in. He vaguely heard his name again as consciousness faded. Just... just need a minute. Then I...

Martin hovered helplessly around Jon’s still form. His breathing was shallow, concerningly so. Tentatively, he shook his shoulder. As expected, Jon didn’t respond.

“Okay. Okay Martin, you can do this. Your all-powerful boyfriend just collapsed and you’re in trapped in a world of darkness, but you can do this.”

He set his pack down on the ground and pulled out a blanket that he liked to sit on when they stopped for longer breaks. Folding it carefully to keep the dirt-stained spots off the outside, he placed it under Jon’s head. Then he positioned him more comfortably and sat down next to him, humming a soft tune to try and keep the fear at bay.

Martin was scared. It had been hours, and Jon hadn’t moved once. If anything, his breathing had grown shallower and more irregular. If he didn’t know better, Martin would have said this place was draining him, but wasn’t he supposed to be the most powerful person in this new world? Well, except for Elias, but that wasn’t the point. How could anything reduce him to this state? Regardless, Martin refused to sit and watch any longer. He hovered over Jon’s prone form, desperate to end this unnatural stillness, regardless of how unnatural the world around them insisted on being.

“Jon?” He called softly, cursing himself when his voice cracked. “Jon, are you there?”

Maybe he had just imagined it, hopeful thinking and too little light giving the illusion of what he was so desperate to see, but it looked like Jon had moved. Twitched ever so slightly, but he had responded.

“Jon? Jon please, you’re scaring me,” Marin pleaded, tears streaming down his face. “It’s not safe here, and-” a sob escaped, but he pulled himself together, “I need you. Please don’t leave me here alone.”

Finally, finally, Jon moved. A low moan escaped as he rolled onto his back, opening his eyes with visible effort. “Martin?”

At the sound of Jon’s voice, exhausted though it may have sounded, Martin couldn’t help but to break into full shuddering sobs, the fear and terror of the past hours combining with the relief that Jon was back and overwhelming him.

“Martin? Martin, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Jon pushed himself up with shaking arms before cupping the sobbing young man’s cheek. “Are you hurt?”

Martin surged forward, tears still flowing, and wrapped his arms around Jon’s neck. “Don’t- don’t ever scare me like that again,” he begged. “I didn’t know what happened to you, if you were dying or-or-or worse. You just collapsed and I didn’t know what to do...”

Jon gently gathered him closer, good hand running though his curls. “I’m sorry; I am. I should have told you, should have warned you. I didn’t want to scare you.”

Martin snorted wetly. “Bit late for that.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But I told you, Seeing the future isn’t something I can do.”

They stayed like that, wrapped together on the dark street, until Martin’s sobs subsided into wet sniffs.

“Better now?” Jon asked.

Martin nodded, pulling back. “So, what happened? Why did you...”

“Ah, yes.” Jon sighed. “It’s the Dark. It’s... complicated, but the best way I can describe it is that it cancels out the Eye. Eyes can’t see in the dark, so the Watcher’s power is limited here. We are safe enough, but connecting to it is... difficult. It took a fair bit of effort to tell you about it. And well, the Watcher is I think what is sustaining me now. Trying to go on without it is... exhausting. It’s like going on hike when you haven’t eaten for a few days.”

Martin stood up, using his sleeves to wipe the tears from his face. “So then, let’s get out of here. You do- you do still know the way, right? We’ve not been going in circles?”

Jon struggled onto his feet, grateful for Martin’s steadying hand. “Yes, I can do that much. Just, don’t ask me to smite anybody.”

Martin giggled, and this time as they started their journey, they went hand in hand.

#tma #the magnus archives #s5 spoilers #my writing #jon whump

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 31: Jon

Fortunately for Jon’s nerves, Halloween week means Research is inundated with statements, mostly false ones, so the first week following Tim’s ill-advised adventure means they’re all helping out with disproving piles of utter nonsense, which in turn means none of his assistants putting themselves in harm’s way. They do get a live statement midway through the week, in the form of the exterminator who handled Jane Prentiss’ body, but as there’s nothing to really investigate regarding his statement, that’s harmless enough. Tim insists on sitting in on the statement, and against his better judgment, Jon agrees.

It’s probably a mistake, though, as over the course of the following week Tim begins having frequent headaches. They seem to pass quickly, at least at first, but they get progressively worse. Martin adds a box of ginger tea to their stash; Sasha keeps a giant bottle of paracetamol at her desk; Jon tries to reduce Tim’s workload as much as possible. Tim only accepts the first two. It worries Jon how hard Tim is throwing himself into the research, regardless of how much the others tell him he doesn’t have to make up for lost time. Even Jon Prime expresses concern, in a careful, hesitant way.

Martin Prime, on the other hand, is a lot less careful and a lot more blunt, telling Tim not to be a self-sacrificing idiot and to stop tearing himself apart trying to draw attention away from the others, because it won’t help anyone if he gets hurt, or worse. Tim laughs, but the look on his face and especially on Jon Prime’s face makes Jon hold onto Tim extra tightly that night.

In the long run, and even in the short run, it doesn’t help. Three weeks into November, Martin finds Tim crumpled in a ball on the floor in the depths of the shelves, clutching his temples and barely conscious. The mental image of Martin, pale and frightened, cradling Tim in his arms like an infant and striding across the Archives as if he weighs nothing isn’t going to leave Jon in a hurry. The doctor at the clinic can’t find any obvious cause for the headaches, but he recommends Tim go home and rest and Jon is only too happy to sign off on that.

He makes him stay home the next morning, too. Tim doesn’t argue, which tells Jon he probably really isn’t feeling all that great. He does promise to get rest, not strain his eyes, and definitely not go off on any unauthorized field trips—all of which Martin is very emphatic about. (Jon’s never actually seen Martin in full mother bear mode, and he decides it’s best for his sanity not to admit that he finds it weirdly attractive.) Martin makes him a cup of tea before they leave and reports, when he comes back to join Jon, that Tim’s fallen back asleep again.

The morning is fairly straightforward. Sasha and Martin work on their usual research work; Jon has a stack of statements to record. Mostly these days he only does the ones that are going to end up on the Discredited shelf, the ones he can record on his laptop, tending to leave the real ones for Jon Prime. Still, there are literally thousands of statements in the Archives, and Jon is prepared to bet even money that no more than ten percent of them are actually real. While that’s still probably enough to sustain both him and Jon Prime for the rest of their natural lives, even if they never get another live statement in, he does still have to record the others. He’d grumble about him and his stupid ideas if he didn’t now have seventeen months’ worth of examples of ideas far stupider than suggesting to his boss that he make audio recordings of the statements in the Archives, and not just his own.

Jon powers through about a dozen statements, narrating them into his laptop and supplementing with his team’s research. He’s just finishing a scathing indictment of a would-be writer who claims to have stayed in a cottage with a haunted lamp when the door cracks open and Martin pops his head in. He catches Jon’s eye and smiles, then waits until Jon signs off the recording before speaking. “Hey. Lunch?”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll do a couple more of these first.” Jon gestures to the rapidly-diminishing stack on the right side of his desk. “I’m on a roll.”

“Better than being on a sesame-seed bun. I’m going to call and check on Tim while I’m at it, unless you’d rather?”

“Go ahead. Ask him if he wants us to bring anything home tonight.” Jon offers Martin a smile. “Enjoy your lunch.”

Martin smiles back, his cheeks turning faintly pink. He nods and withdraws from Jon’s office.

Jon finishes two more digital statements and then pulls over the next one and begins to dictate it. Even before he gets done with the introduction, however, he can feel the static on his tongue and stops. Playback confirms his suspicion—this is a real one. Somehow, they missed it.

He skims the file. He remembers this one now—a claim of a still-living mummy in a tomb containing ancient dice and nothing else. Sasha, who, in her own words, “went through an Egyptology phase like every other girl in the nineties”, wrote out a list of every reason she could think of that the description of the tomb didn’t make sense. Even Tim’s charm wasn’t enough to get any help from the Egyptian government, and since all the names were fake except the statement giver’s, all Martin has been able to find out is that she’s currently training to be a teacher. Even with everything they know, it seems…unrealistic.

But as he flips a page over, it dislodges a sticky note from the back of the folder. Jon catches it as it flutters through the air. It’s Tim’s handwriting, and it glitters faintly, which makes Jon frown—not because he objects to glitter ink (although if they use it on anything official he doesn’t want to imagine what Elias will have to say), but because Tim’s only been using these pens for a couple of weeks, since he traded Charlie one of his old fountain pens for the pack. Which means Tim went back and added something recently.

Jon studies the note. The first words are scratched out, but the rest is easily legible: I think this one is real.

For a moment, Jon considers leaving the statement for Jon Prime to read, but he finds he can’t. Now that he’s started speaking it aloud, he has to finished. Damn it. With a sigh, he sets up the tape recorder, then checks to make sure his secondary recorder has a tape in it. He depresses the RECORD button on both and picks up the paper again.

“Statement of Donna Gwynne, regarding an unlicensed archaeological dig near the Red Sea in Egypt,” he begins.

He always sinks into the statements, at least when they’re real—which is good, because once he finishes, it’s hard for him to keep his contempt for Ms. Gwynne out of his voice as he dictates the results, such as they are, on the follow-up. Certainly he has no qualms admitting that he’s somewhat satisfied the woman is being forced into a job she’s stated repeatedly she hates the idea of.

“I feel anyone who brings me a statement about mummies deserves everything they get,” he concludes. “I’m just glad she doesn’t live in London. End recording.”

He presses the STOP button on both recorders, then hesitates. He started recording secondary back-up tapes after Michael’s visit, partly out of growing paranoia and partly so that he would have a record in case anything happened, and he’s never really stopped. He needs to let the others know about it, he just…hasn’t yet.

Sighing, he pops out the official tape and labels it, then sets it with the file before drawing the second recorder towards himself and pressing RECORD.

“Supplemental,” he says. “I’m…worried about Tim. His headaches have grown so severe over the last week that I actually had to make him stay home today. I’m sure they have something to do with these statements, with the research and all of it, but I don’t know how to prove it. And I don’t know why he’s looking into statements we’ve theoretically finished the research on. I’m…grateful, of course, that he spotted that this one was probably real, although I wish he’d left the note in a more obvious place, but I don’t know why he was even looking, let alone how he figured it out. There’s no supplemental research, no notes other than the single sticky note he put in the back. I can’t quite make out the first word, as it’s been heavily scratched out, except that it starts with a V or a W. The next two are also scratched out, but it’s a little easier to make out: The End, with a question mark. He wasn’t sure, but—of course, it’s fairly obvious. What else would mummies be? And there’s a parallel to—”

The door to his office opens abruptly, and a voice that does not belong to one of his assistants says, “Excuse me, do you have a moment?”

Jon almost topples his chair over backwards, despite the fact that the small part of his brain hanging onto rationality points out that an entity of fear likely wouldn’t be so (relatively) polite about interrupting him. A second later, the rest of his brain catches onto the magenta-tipped brown asymmetrical pixie cut, the string of black stars dangling from one ear, and the expression that manages to be somehow disdainful, sheepish, and concerned all at the same time.

“Miss King—uh—how did you get in here?” he manages, hoping he doesn’t sound like she almost gave him a heart attack.

“Sasha let me in.” Melanie King steps fully into his office and lets the door close behind her. “Are you all right?”

“Hmm? Sorry?” Jon tries to look nonchalant as he shuffles Ms. Gwynne’s statement to the bottom of the stack.

“You look like hell,” Melanie tells him.

“It’s been a rough few months.” Jon feels his old prickliness rising up in him, feels the need to puff up and bluster, but then he stops, collects himself, and really looks at Melanie. There’s a slump to her shoulders, a weariness in her bearing, and dark circles like bruises under her eyes, which look…well, haunted. “And if I look like hell, you must be in a far lower circle than I am. Are you all right?”

Melanie seems surprised that he asked, which, fair enough. “Fine. I—um—I actually need your help.”

Dread creeps up Jon’s spine, but all he says is, “Interesting.”

“All right, can you not be an arsehole about it?” Melanie snaps, visibly bristling. “I just need access to your library.”

“So talk to Diana. She runs the place,” Jon points out.

“Yeah, I don’t exactly have the academic credentials you guys demand, so apparently I need someone to vouch for me,” Melanie says. Jon sighs in annoyance, not at Melanie or her tone, but at the generations of stuffy, upper-class white men who equate university degrees with value. “And you’re basically the closest thing I have to a friend here.”

Jon can’t help but laugh at that. “We’ve spoken once, and we ended up screaming at each other—”

“Yes! And that’s more than I have with anyone else here.” Melanie tugs at her hair in frustration, hard enough that Jon’s afraid she might actually yank it out of her scalp by the roots. “Also, uh, Georgie actually has some nice things to say about you. That came as a surprise. You didn’t even tell me you knew her.”

It surprises Jon, too, enough that he blurts out the honest truth without thinking. “It was a long time ago—before she started doing What the Ghost. I didn’t think she would have anything nice to say about me, to be honest. We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.”

Melanie hums skeptically at him. Jon almost tells her everything, but catches himself. “Look, what exactly do you need from us, anyway? Can’t your showbiz friends help you?”

“No,” Melanie snaps. “I’m, uh—most of them won’t talk to me anymore.”

“What happened? Did word get round you’d talked to us ‘credulous idiots’?”

“Not exactly. In my business, your reputation is all that you have. The industry is full of skeptics pretending to be believers pretending to be skeptics.”

Jon almost snipes at her that the word she wants is charlatans, but one look at her expression and his heart isn’t in it anymore. He thinks about the Primes’ description of her as an Archival assistant, the “painting” from Martin Prime’s statement about his journey back in time, the slightly wistful look in Jon Prime’s eye when he talked about her resignation. And then he looks at her now, determined and angry and despairing all at once, and he resolves, then and there, not to ever let her get to that point.

He’s the closest thing she has to a friend? Fair enough. They’re going to get closer to that even if he has to do all the work himself.

“And none of them are helpful,” he guesses.

Melanie starts to bristle at him, then sighs heavily. “Look, Ghost Hunt UK split up. I mean, not formally, but, you know, Pete was always a flake, and the others just…drifted away.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, as gently as he can. “I did notice you weren’t updating anymore.” It’s a bit of a white lie—the Primes told him that—but she doesn’t need to know, not now.

Melanie continues, rambling a bit about her attempts to get a new crew together, then her solo expeditions ending in disaster. Jon can’t help the noise of shock and concern that slips out of his throat when she mentions getting arrested; she evidently takes it as interest and gives him the whole story. “After that…”

“Your reputation went with it,” Jon concludes.

Melanie looks away. The set of her jaw suggests she’s trying to hang onto her resentment, but also trying not to cry. “Yes,” she says tightly. “Look, I have leads that I really need to follow up on, and as far as my colleagues are concerned these days, I’m the ghost.”

Jon nods. “All right. Come on, then.”

Melanie looks back at him, obviously startled. “What?”

“Come on,” Jon repeats. “I’ll take you up to the library and vouch for you. If all else fails, I can claim we’re borrowing you as an adjunct for a few weeks or something. U-unless you’d rather wait?”

“Oh,” Melanie says, sounding taken aback. “No, the sooner the better. I—just expected a bit more of a fight, to be honest.”

“Yes, well, I know what it’s like to be itching to follow up on a lead and have your every effort frustrated. And I believe I owe you for being…dismissive of you before.” Jon suddenly realizes he hasn’t turned off his tape recorder. “Uh, end supplemental.” He presses the STOP button and stows the recorder in his desk, then gestures for Melanie to head out of the office.

Martin is just hanging his jacket on the back of his chair when they emerge; he looks up and offers Jon a slight smile, which freezes when he sees Melanie. “Uh…heading to lunch?”

“Eventually, but I’m going to see if I can convince Diana to let Miss King here use the library,” Jon tells him. “Unless you’d rather.”

Martin laughs nervously. “That would have the opposite effect, trust me. Besides, I, uh, talked to Tim.”

Jon bites back the hot words he wants to unleash in Diana’s direction. “How is he?”

“Fine, he says, and I believe him, but he asked if I would—” Martin hesitates for no more than a split second, then flicks a finger very quickly in the direction of the trapdoor “—run something down for him?”

In other words, Tim has a question he thinks the Primes can answer. Jon nods slowly. “All right. Just be…cautious. I don’t want a repeat of last month’s incident.”

Martin shakes his head vigorously. “Nope. No incidents. Nope. I’ll be back up before you get back from lunch.”

“Right.” Jon offers Martin a warm smile, which Martin returns, before leading Melanie over to the stairs.

Melanie, for a wonder, stays silent until they’re back up on the main floor, then says, “Does ‘last month’s incident’ have anything to do with all those scars he’s got?”

Jon bristles at the implied criticism of Martin’s appearance. “Those are months old. Did you not see the worms when you were here last time? We had an…infestation. It came to a head a couple weeks after your last visit. He was badly injured.” His voice shakes slightly as he says it. Even close to seven months later, he still has trouble sometimes shaking the memories of the black terror of that night.

“I’m sorry.” Melanie actually seems to mean it. “He seems all right now, though.”

“As I said, it was some time ago and he’s had time to heal. Last month’s incident was…it didn’t leave physical scars, but one of my other assistants looked into something he oughtn’t have.” Jon pauses. They’re just rounding the landing towards the first floor—the library actually spans the entire height of the building, save the basement, but for reasons he’s never understood the only way in or out is in the middle—and it’s deserted this time of day. Sound has a way of carrying, but they should be safe enough here if he speaks honestly, as long as he keeps his voice down. “He ran into your Sarah Baldwin.”

Melanie stiffens, but when she speaks, she manages to sound derisive. “You were just looking into my statement?”

“I contacted you when we initially did the research,” Jon reminds her. She grunts, either in acknowledgment or impatience. “This was a completely unrelated incident. I told you, I owe you for being dismissive before. You were right.”

“I wish I was recording this.”

“All right, no need to be—” Jon checks his temper. “Look. She’s dangerous. Or at least she belongs to something dangerous. You were extremely lucky to walk away in one piece.”

Something in Melanie’s face shifts. “Related to…whatever was at the CMH?”

“I—I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think they’re separate, but…there were things we know now that we didn’t know then. We may have to revisit your case.”

“Just so you don’t ask me more questions. I’m still having nightmares about it.” Melanie shoots him a glare. “You’re in them now, too, so thanks for that.”

Jon winces. “Ah…yes. I didn’t know about that at the time, either. I suppose I owe you an apology.”

“What?”

“Look, do you want to do the library today, or come back to the Archives and interrogate me? I can explain more, but it’s not something I want to do on the stairwell,” Jon says impatiently. Elias Bouchard’s office is on the first floor as well, and the last thing he wants is Elias actually listening to this conversation.

Melanie stares at him for a minute, then sighs. “Library. The less I have to talk to you, the better.”

Which is fair enough, Jon supposes. “All right, then. This way.”

Rosie’s office, door open, is just at the top of the stairs; from the way she peers over her computer monitor at them, Jon guesses she at least heard their voices, if not what they were actually saying. Melanie glances over her shoulder as they pass. “Why is she staring at us?”

“That’s Rosie.” Just about anyone who has reason to pass her door calls her “Nosy Rosie”, actually, but Jon isn’t going to mention that in earshot; despite all appearances, he’s not a complete arse. “She’s Elias Bouchard’s personal assistant. It…behooves her to keep her finger on the Institute’s pulse, I suppose.”

“She’s a snoop, in other words.”

Jon can’t help a small, humorless chuckle. “Aren’t we all.”

Between the door to Elias’s office and the library, at the end of the corridor, there’s a room with an incredibly solid door, firmly shut. It’s one of only two interior doors original to the Institute, the other being the library’s, and as such it’s windowless. It’s also unlabeled. Melanie eyeballs it. “What’s in there?”

“Artifact Storage.”

“So…what, haunted dolls, cursed music boxes, weapons belonging to serial killers…”

Jon stops and shoots Melanie a look. She shrugs, completely unrepentant. “All right, so I’m curious. Sue me. Not like I’m going to ask to go in.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t let you,” Jon tells her firmly. “It’s not a museum. It’s more of a…science lab, I suppose. They keep artifacts in there, yes, but they also study them, attempt to replicate their effects or discover why they do things.”

“Hmm.” Melanie studies the door for a second. Jon’s about a step away from grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her away when she falls into step with him. “You go in there a lot, do you?”

“Not if I can help it.” Jon leads Melanie to the end of the hall and the ornate double doors of the library, then pushes one open and ushers her inside.

Melanie’s jaw drops, which is the usual reaction among employees seeing it for the first time, from what Jon’s been told and what little he’s experienced. Three stories high, with balconies ringing the upper two, it’s near floor-to-ceiling shelves, every one packed with books. Tables and chairs litter the ground floor, and here and there on the upper levels are smaller rooms for private study. A bored-looking junior clerk sits behind a curved, ornate wooden desk with her back to the dizzying drop, filing her nails; elsewhere, other library assistants sort, stack, and shelve books from carts and precarious stacks.

“I always thought it looked like the library from Beauty and the Beast,” Jon admits in a low voice. From the startled look Melanie shoots him, she was thinking the same thing. “Come on. I’ll try and track down Diana.”

“What can I do for you?”

Jon and Melanie both jump at the boisterous, barely-contained voice from behind them. Whirling around, Jon takes a deep, steadying breath. “Diana. I…didn’t see you there.”

“That’s unusual.” Diana smiles—almost leers—down at Jon. In height and in breadth, she can give Martin a run for his money, and she towers over the two of them. Melanie nips smartly behind Jon, and he throws her a look. “What can I do for you? New assistant?”

“Ah—no. Diana Caxton, Melanie King.”

“The ghost hunter?” Diana raises one impeccably sculpted eyebrow almost into her hairline.

“Y-yes,” Melanie manages to choke out.

Jon takes a half-step back so he isn’t looking up Diana’s nose. “Miss King needs to use the library for some research. I know she’s not the…usual student type, but I’m willing to vouch for her seriousness, as well as her right to be here. I’m certain she will treat the books with the respect and care they deserve. And the subject matter, of course.”

Diana’s eyebrow raises higher. “You’re not going to put this in your show, are you?”

She says this at a normal volume, and a number of nearby heads snap towards them. Jon fights the instinctive urge to shrink into himself and hide. Melanie, on the other hand, folds her arms over her chest and manages to meet Diana’s eyes. “No, ma’am. I just need to follow up on some leads to make sure I’m informed enough on my end to go places safely.”

She’s lying. Jon knows intuitively she’s lying, but he keeps his face carefully blank. Diana studies Melanie from her great height, then finally nods. “Have to run it by Mr. Bouchard first, but I’m sure he’ll agree. I’ll have a ninety-day pass set up for you at the front desk. Come by tomorrow morning and we’ll get you started.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, Jon,” Diana says as Jon starts to turn away and lead Melanie back to the front. “Do tell Martin hello, will you? I hope he brightens your Archives as much as he brightened our library. We miss his smiling face up here. Tell him he’s welcome any time.”

“I—of course,” Jon says, not sure what else to say.

Melanie waits until they hit the landing to ask in an undertone, “Is Martin the one who said—?”

“Yes,” Jon says shortly. He’s going to have a talk with Martin about his self-esteem issues, not that he can really be throwing stones. But Diana seemed to genuinely mean it.

He bids Melanie farewell at the front door, then ducks into the canteen to grab a sandwich before heading down to the Archives again. Sasha’s there, making herself a cup of tea. She looks up and smiles when she sees Jon, but her expression turns puzzled. “Hi. I thought you’d be at lunch with Martin or something.”

“He’s…running something down for Tim,” Jon says carefully. Worry churns at his gut.

Before Sasha can respond, though, the trapdoor opens and Martin comes out. His face is pale and he looks shaken, which doesn’t help Jon’s worry. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. I don’t know.” Martin carefully shuts the door and comes back over. “Tell you later.”

They don’t say anything else about it. Not then. But at the end of the day when they lock up the Archives, Sasha loops one arm through Jon’s and the other through Martin’s. “Mind if I invite myself over?”

“Yes, we can’t stand you and we’re thoroughly glad to get rid of you at the end of the day,” Jon deadpans, eliciting a tiny smile out of her. “Thank God you don’t live with us or we’d be constantly miserable. Oh—Martin, I forgot to ask, did Tim want us to bring anything home?”

“He said he’d put in an order at that takeaway place for us to pick up on the way.” Martin’s voice is unusually soft, and it makes Jon’s worry compound.

Tim looks a lot better when they get in the door, white boxes in hand. He greets them with a smile, which vanishes instantly when he sees Martin. “Oh, God, what? What happened? What is it?”

Martin shrugs out of his jacket. “Well, I asked them.”

“And?” Tim prompts, voice full of dread.

Martin sighs. “And they didn’t know.”

Tim blinks. “What?”

“They didn’t know. Had no idea what I was talking about. I’ve never seen Jon Prime look that confused.” Martin reaches for Sasha’s jacket, but she takes his instead and hangs them both up. “They were considering coming over tonight, but Martin Prime thought you might want to talk to us first.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…probably not a bad idea.” Tim runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

“Let’s eat. Then you can explain,” Sasha suggests.

Dinner is largely silent, except for the scrape of fork on plate. Jon does explain the purpose of Melanie’s visit to the others, and Martin frowns slightly when he repeats Diana’s words, but doesn’t say anything. Once they’ve all eaten and cleaned up, they head back into the living room to talk.

Tim sits on the edge of the loveseat, elbows resting on his thighs and hands clasped beneath his chin. “Where do we start?”

Sasha nudges Martin’s ankle with her foot. “What were you asking the Primes about?”

“Tim told me to ask them about ‘the color of fears’,” Martin replies. “They didn’t know what I meant. I didn’t know what I meant, except…” He looks up at Tim. “Except I think it has to do with your headaches.”

“It does,” Tim confirms. He takes a deep breath. “It’s…something I’ve been noticing lately. Since the Trophy Room, really. When I was there…when Daniel Rawlings looked me in the eye? His eyes were glowing. Like there was a light inside them. Right proper spooky. And when I got back to the Archives that day…I thought you’d put special bulbs in or something, at first, but I blinked and it went away. Then I was talking to you, Jon, and your eyes were glowing, too.”

“My what?” Jon touches the corner of his eye gingerly, like he can feel the luminescence.

Tim manages a small grin. “It’s not…it went away when I blinked, too, and I thought I was just imagining things. But it’s been getting…worse. Random flashes at first, but when the exterminator came in…he glowed for a second, too. After I sat in on that, it started getting stronger.”

“Hence the headaches,” Jon says. “Tim, why didn’t you—”

“I wasn’t sure. And…well, I wanted to experiment a bit. Because, see, here’s the thing. Rawlings’ eyes—when they glowed, they were this deep indigo, but the Archives, and your eyes and Sasha’s—and Martin’s lips once or twice—they glowed green. The exterminator was kind of green, too, but it was kind of a greenish-yellow, really, and the next day I—” Tim flushes and looks up at Martin. “I was watching you, and—your scars started glowing. Same color as the exterminator did, but your mouth was still the darker green, it’s how I could tell they were different colors. So…I started thinking, maybe that meant something?”

“Oh, God,” Martin says softly. “The marks.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Tim says. “I—I’ve been sort of trying with some of the statements. It’s hard to see with them, really, because everything in the Archives glows green just about, and if I try too hard I get the headaches. But sometimes I could…pick out different colors in them, kind of. Sort of. Mostly. I-I thought maybe if I could look at them and see the fears’ marks…”

“You’d know which ones were real,” Jon completes. Tim nods. “You still shouldn’t have done that without telling us.”

“I know. Especially…well, I thought I could handle it. I’ve been getting better at only seeing them when I try to, and I thought I’d—give it a shot. I walked back into the shelves yesterday and just…let loose with my eyes. I tried to See what was on the couple of shelves nearest.” Tim sighs heavily. “But it was—it was overwhelming. There was just so much. It was like—like standing in the middle of a room made out of mirrors, and someone was shining all sorts of different colored lasers at them, and they were just bouncing off and refracting and amplifying and going everywhere. Like I was drowning in color, or like it was screaming at me. I can’t really explain it, but it was too much and, well, that’s when you found me.”

Martin exhales heavily. “Christ, Tim, that scared the hell out of me.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried that without warning you all. I-I really didn’t think it would be that bad.”

Jon bites his lip. “Is that how you knew—that statement, Ms. Gwynne’s, about the mummy?”

Sasha frowns. “The one that reads like the plot of a knockoff of a Brendan Fraser film?”

“Yes. I went to record it today and—it came out distorted. I didn’t see the note until after I realized it didn’t work on the laptop, but…Tim thought it might be real.”

Tim nods. “Yeah. I looked back over some of them. Started off with the ones we knew were real, and then I started looking at a couple that we weren’t sure of. That one…I wasn’t sure, but I think it’s the End?”

“Makes sense. Mummies. Death,” Martin murmurs.

“It was white. I mean—when I looked at it hard enough, it glowed white. Or at least I think it did,” Tim says. “Made the green kind of…pale, anyway. The other ones we’ve marked as being Terminus statements were the same color. But the problem is that the green of the Eye is so strong, it’s hard to really be sure what other colors there are, except if I’m looking at a person who’s been marked. That’s why I was asking about the color of fears. I-I was kind of hoping the Primes would be able to confirm what I’m thinking, but—”

“But they had no idea,” Martin completes. “Which means that, unless I just explained it very badly, Jon Prime can’t see those colors. Can’t see the marks.”

Jon rubs his temples. “I suppose it’s good to know that I don’t have to consider that, but…why? Why can you see the marks when the rest of us can’t?”

Sasha gets a faraway look in her eyes, and there’s a faint sound of static as she says, “Because that’s what’s important to Tim. Knowing when danger is coming, what danger is coming. You said yourself, Tim, you’re going to help and you’re going to do whatever you can to protect us. The Eye gave you the ability to Know what entities are around, or have got hold of someone or something, because it knows you’ll lean into that and use it for good as long as you can, up until it’s got a tight enough hold on you that you can’t get away, even if you want to.” She blinks hard, and the static fades as she puts a hand over her mouth. “Oh—oh, God, sorry, I—”

“It’s fine.” Tim manages a smile for her, but there’s a look of distress in his eyes. “It’s good to know.”

Jon’s distressed, too. “Tim you should have told us. Jon Prime’s been working with us on control, if we’d known you had powers already we’d have—he should be helping you, too. You can’t—” He takes a deep breath. “Promise me you won’t keep this sort of thing to yourself anymore.”

Tim reaches over and squeezes Jon’s hand. “I promise. No more unauthorized research, of any kind. I won’t even check books out of the library without telling you what I’m after first.”

“I appreciate that.” Jon smiles and squeezes Tim’s hand back. “Now then. Someone get a notebook and pen. We need to write down as much of this as we can.”

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #oof sorry this one's so late today guys

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 5: Tim

Tim wonders where the hell everybody is. Jon’s not in his office, which is…unusual, to say the least, since they usually have to pry him out of it with a crowbar at the end of the day, and lately he’s been acting like lunch breaks are something that happen to other people. On the other hand, he might be poking around the Archives looking for more out-of-place statements to sneer at. Martin isn’t at his desk, either, unless he is and Tim just can’t see him; sometimes he swears Martin’s part chameleon, like he doesn’t exactly go invisible but can just fade into the background and not be seen. At least Tim knows for a fact that Sasha is off getting lunch, because she actually told him where she was going.

“If this is a game of ‘Let’s Make Tim Think the Archives Are Cursed’, I think the Archives themselves won that game several weeks ago, so give it up, guys,” he says to the room at large. The room, thankfully, does not answer him.

Walking around aimlessly, looking for his colleagues, Tim appreciates for the first time why Martin is so jumpy lately. This is, not to put too fine a point on it, creepy. Wandering through rows upon rows of files containing the stories of scary encounters and eerie presentiments and the like, no sound but his own muffled footsteps, and he swears he can hear a faint susurration from the shelves, like they’re whispering to him. Or like something is…crawling on the papers, rustling them ever so lightly. Makes his skin crawl and his fingers itch for the comforting weight of a fire extinguisher.

And it’s the middle of the day! It’s barely lunchtime and the lights are up and the window slits near the ceiling that let in enough daylight to help visibility but not enough UV light to damage the paperwork (honestly, it’s a shockingly well-designed and well-thought out archive for how old it is) are at full glow. And it’s still creepy as hell. It has to be worse after dark, when there’s for sure nobody here. The fact that Martin hasn’t run screaming from the Institute or had a complete nervous breakdown honestly has Tim feeling a surge of newfound respect for him, and for his courage—or at least his sheer bloody-minded stubbornness. There’s a fine line between the two and Tim rather suspects Martin uses it as a skipping rope.

“Hello?” he calls out, and then instantly curses himself. For God’s sake, he’s read the statements! He’s seen plenty of horror films, too, and then there’s…well, his own experience, which he’d rather not think about, thank you very much. Anyway, he knows damn well that nothing good ever happens after the person wandering alone through the spooky whatever calls out “hello” into the empty nothingness. Ominous music tapers off, split second of utter silence, sudden surge of discordant musical sting, cut to black, and the next day someone stumbles on his desiccated corpse.

There’s a clatter from the next aisle and it almost has Tim running for the hills, but he pokes his head around the shelf and relaxes. “Oh, hey, Marto. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Tim! Christ, I—shit, sorry.” Martin is clutching a sheaf of papers in one hand and steadying the shelf with the other and looks flustered.

“You know, you’ve really got to stop apologizing when someone else spills soup on your lap.” Tim has no idea if Martin’s going to get that reference. He doesn’t seem like the type to be into American comedians, but you never know. “Was wondering where everyone was. I know Sasha’s at lunch, but I couldn’t find anyone else either.”

“Jon’s got a meeting with—Elias. Something about the budget, I think. I can hear him now. ‘I have acceded to your…concerns in regards to the fire suppression system, but really, Jon, it was quite expensive, so we’ll need to have a serious discussion regarding some of these other requests you’ve made.’” Martin’s impression of Elias’s voice is amazingly spot-on.

Tim frowns a little, though, because it’s also amazingly biting and bitter. He mocks Elias all the time, usually making Sasha and Martin laugh when he does, and occasionally Sasha joins in, but he’s never heard Martin do anything but laugh or nervously try to stop them. He’s certainly never heard Martin speak about Elias, or anyone else for that matter, with that much anger—no, not anger. Hatred. Tim didn’t even realize Martin had that kind of hatred in him, let alone directed at Elias.

“How long have you worked here again?” he asks.

“F—eleven years, give or take. Why?”

Tim studies Martin. He looks…tired isn’t the word. He looks exhausted. He’s pale, although that could be because he’s been basically underground for almost two months and it was winter before that. His glasses sort of hide them, but looking closer, Tim can see shadows under his eyes so deep they’re nearly bruises. The papers in his hand waver a little, and it’s not because of air currents in the Archives, it’s because Martin’s hands are shaking, ever so faintly. He looks like a precariously-built structure that’s just had the support props removed—standing on his own, for the moment, but with a sense that it won’t take long, or much effort, to send him crashing to the ground.

It’s that that makes Tim decide to change tack. He was about to ask why Martin doesn’t quit if he hates Elias that much, but in the state he’s in, Martin might just do that, and if he quits he can’t stay living there, and if he leaves he might get hurt. Besides, he knows why Martin—usually—puts up with so much crap, and not just from Elias.

Instead, he says, “Well, I guess that’s long enough to build up a good reserve of aggro against the Big Guy. Aren’t you worried he’ll overhear you, though? After all, ‘nothing escapes his notice.’” He does his own impression of Elias, and it’s about as spot-on as Martin’s, but even he can hear the difference in tone.

“I’m not worth his attention.” There’s still that spark of bitter anger in Martin’s voice, but also a note of resignation. “Besides, he’s busy with his meeting. He won’t be looking at anything down here.”

The first part of Martin’s reply has Tim wanting to storm up to the office and knock both his bosses’ heads together—nobody has the right to make Martin feel like that—but the second part gives him pause. Martin makes it sound like Elias is…spying on them. Tim knows there’s no CCTV equipment in the Archives, something about interference, but could Elias have the place bugged?

“You get that feeling, too, do you?” he asks quietly. “Like you’re being…watched?”

Martin laughs. There’s no humor in it. “Yeah, get used to that, it’s not ever going to go away.” Before Tim can say anything, he rubs a hand over his face. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m just…sorry.”

“You really don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Tim glances at the papers in Martin’s hand. “So what’s that, then?”

“Oh. Erm, Jon asked me to—to pull some statements that might be helpful, so I was looking through and seeing what we’ve got.” Martin holds up the paper to study it. “Thought this one might be useful.”

Partly because Martin is so visibly tired, and partly because Tim’s not actually capable of carrying out a conversation without being at least a little lighthearted, he smirks. “Wow, I knew you were good, but I didn’t realize you were so good you could read a statement upside down.”

He expects Martin to blush. Instead, his face goes almost bone-white and his eyes get as big as saucers. He says something in what Tim is pretty sure is Polish—something Eastern European, anyway, and he knows Martin speaks Polish—and is also pretty sure is profane, but then he recovers and looks up at Tim. “Well enough to pick out the salient points, anyway. Here—take a look. What do you think?”

He thrusts the papers at Tim, who decides—again—not to mention that Martin’s hands are shaking and takes them. His eyes fall on the name on the document, and his eyes widen.

“Okay, I take it back,” he says. “You said you saw salient points—did you see the name?”

“No, but—” Martin pauses. “Christ. It’s from her, isn’t it?”

Tim doesn’t need Martin to clarify who she is. “Yep. You should take this to Jon. Like, now. He’s definitely going to want to see this.”

Martin nods. “I’ll just—put it on his desk then. Unless you want to.”

“No, you go ahead. This is your find, you deserve the credit. I’m going to—” Tim waves vaguely over his shoulder. “It’s lunchtime. Want me to bring you back anything?”

“I’m good, but thanks, Tim.” Martin smiles. There’s something sad about it. “You’re a good friend.”

“Of course I am.” Tim grins to cover up his confusion. “Right, see you in an hour or so.”

“Right-o.” Martin hesitates for the barest of seconds, then starts off down the row of shelves. Tim hears a clang and a curse as he rounds the corner and suspects he’s run into something, or at least banged the fire extinguisher dangling from his hip like a gun in a cowboy movie into something.

Figuring Martin will be embarrassed and not want anyone fussing over him, Tim heads in the other direction, looking for Sasha. He lucks out; she’s just coming in the side entrance, stomping hard as she does so before shutting the door firmly. She looks over at Tim and grimaces. “Worms,” she says succinctly. “What’s up?”

Tim glances over his shoulder to make sure they’re alone, then quietly tells her, “I’m worried about Martin. Frankly, he looks like hell.”

Sasha frowns. “I mean, he is under a lot of stress these days.”

“I know, and I don’t think he’s sleeping.” Tim quickly recounts the encounter he’s just had with Martin, as well as what preceded it. “As bad as it is being alone down here in the daylight, it must be a thousand times worse after dark. No wonder he isn’t getting any rest.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

Tim grins recklessly. “How do you feel about a sleepover in the Archives?”

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take him long to get Sasha on board; it’s obvious she’s been worrying about Martin, too, and there’s strength in numbers. Tim spends most of the rest of the day pretending to be working while really he’s plotting out how to stick around for the night without letting Jon know. It’s not that he thinks Jon would mind…well, he does, actually. He can almost hear Jon’s voice in his head: This is a place of business, Tim, not a sleepaway camp. Also, Tim doesn’t want Jon to decide to stay as well; he relaxes—some—when they’re all together off-duty, on the whole one occasion they managed to do that, but if they’re still in the Archives he’s perfectly capable of trying to make them keep working, and Tim very much wants to distract Martin from all the things he’s stressing about tonight, work included.

Besides, he’s also trying to surprise Martin, despite that probably not being a great idea.

In the end, it turns out to be pretty easy. Jon doesn’t linger at the end of the day, so Tim and Sasha walk out with him, calling cheerful good-nights to Martin before trooping out the outer access door. Tim, the only one who drives to work regularly, offers Sasha a ride home; she pretends to grudgingly accept. He offers Jon one, too, but unsurprisingly (and thankfully, as Tim has conveniently omitted to mention that he didn’t actually drive in today), Jon declines, citing as his reason that he lives in the opposite direction as both of them. As they reach the edge of the grounds, Tim slips his hand in his pocket for his keys. Nothing.

“Oh, hell,” he says, trying very hard not to overdo it as he pats himself down. “Where the hell are my keys?”

“You had them in your hand when you got back from lunch,” Sasha volunteers. “Maybe you left them on your desk?”

“Or I dropped them. Hope I didn’t throw them out by mistake.” Tim turns back towards the Institute. “Front door’s still unlocked, I can just pop down and check for them…you want to wait out here, Sash?”

“Not likely.” Sasha falls into step with him. “Four eyes are better than two, and those steps are spooky after dark. I’ll come help.”

Tim glances over his shoulder briefly as they head up the steps. Jon is halfway down the block towards the Tube station. “I don’t think he heard a word of that, actually.”

“Better safe than sorry, right?” Sasha nudges him. “Come on, let’s see if we can slip past Rosie.”

Fortunately, there’s a big crowd heading outside about then, so they��re able to escape attention as they head back down the steps leading to the Archives. The first thing Tim does is head over to his desk and hold up the keys he deliberately left sitting there with an air of triumph. “Here they are!”

“Tim, you’re an idiot.” Sasha shakes her head in amusement.

“But a devious one.” Tim drops the keys into his jacket pocket before hanging it on the back of his chair. “Come on, let’s go find Martin and rustle up some dinner.”

Sasha hangs up her jacket, too, and the two of them head into the Archives. Tim at first is going for the little room where the cot is set up, where Martin’s been sleeping, but then he hears…voices? A voice, at least. It sounds like Martin, and it sounds like he’s having a conversation with someone, but…

“Martin?” he calls, not wanting to startle him again. “You talking to yourself over there?”

“Tim!” Martin’s voice is high and strained. “Y-you’re supposed to—yes! Yes, I am talking to myself, sorry about that.” He pops out from behind a shelf and forces a smile. “Sasha? What are you two doing here? Did you forget something?”

“Yes,” Sasha says. “We forgot that we get to go home safe every night while you’re stuck here in the middle of the spooky, whispering, singing Archives.”

“Singing?” Tim and Martin say in unison.

Sasha frowns at them both. “Yes. Neither of you has heard it? That faint singing, when there’s no other sound to be heard?”

Tim gives Martin a confused look. Martin looks both confused and worried. “No? No, I can’t say I’ve ever noticed it.”

There’s a clatter from somewhere else in the Archives, and Martin casts a nervous glance over his shoulder. Tim stiffens. “What was that?”

“Nothing. Nothing. It’s—it’s probably nothing.” Martin runs a hand through his hair, looking worried. “Anyway, you two should—go, maybe. It’s getting dark and all.”

“Nope, not tonight.” Tim slings an arm around Martin’s shoulders. “I’ve decided not to leave you alone anymore. Sasha’s staying tonight, too, it’s up to her if she stays after this, but from now on, I’m not leaving the Institute until you can, too.”

“Erm—thanks, Tim, but…” Martin wrings his hands. “I don’t mind staying alone tonight. There’s something I need to do and—it’s best I do it myself, so—maybe another night? Besides! Besides, you’re not even prepared for this and…”

“Martin,” Sasha says, looking annoyed, “what’s going on?”

Tim should probably be annoyed, too, but he’s just worried. He tries not to show it, though. Whatever it is Martin is planning to do, or whatever reason he thinks he needs to be alone, Martin is pretty damn stubborn and it’s going to take a gentle application of pressure rather than a show of force to get him to yield. Persuasion rather than intimidation.

“We’re friends, right?” he says, as gently as he can. “You can trust us.”

Martin’s shoulders slump. “I know. It’s just…you’re going to think I’m crazy.”

Tim spreads out his hands, palms up. “You were held hostage in your flat for two weeks by a thousand worms wrapped in a trench coat, which followed you home after you broke into a basement to investigate a man who was stalked and murdered by the ghost of a spider he killed twenty years ago. Sasha was attacked by a man with knives for hands and a smile that didn’t fit his face, and now she’s talking about the Archives singing. I haven’t even ever told you why I came to work at the Institute in the first place, but believe me, it makes the rest of that seem normal. Whatever you’re going to tell us, I promise you, crazy is the last thing I’ll think you are.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Besides, you’re wrong about us not planning anything for this. I bought us dinner when I was out on my lunch break, so let’s all head to the break room and eat, and you can tell us what’s going on.”

Sasha loops her arm through Martin’s on one side, and Tim takes the other, so he can’t escape them, and together they proceed to the break room. The halls are set to emergency lighting only, and the break room is completely dark, but when Tim fumbles for the switch, Martin extracts his arm and clicks on a torch.

“The lights are centrally controlled,” he explains. “There’s a master switch somewhere. I don’t know if Rosie or Elias turns it off when they leave, but one of them does, so it’s nothing but emergency lighting, and I’ve only seen that in the Archives.”

Tim wonders how he’s never known that, but then again, it’s not like he stays late all that often, maybe twice in the whole three years he’s been with the Institute. (God, has it really only been three years?) And it’s not like he’s ever gone around looking for light switches before. Never been a priority.

“Well, then,” he says, “I guess we’ll take our food back to the Archives. We can have a picnic on the floor or something and you can explain what the hell is going on there.”

Martin doesn’t say anything, just shines the light on the refrigerator. Tim retrieves the takeout containers he placed there with PROPERTY OF TIMOTHY STOKER, CONTAINS POISON, ELECTRIFIED, DO NOT TOUCH, THIS MEANS YOU, SCOTT scribbled across the tops and sides, then comes back to the door. “If this didn’t work, I’m going to figure out a way to actually electrify them next time,” he informs the others.

Sasha snorts. “You really think it’s Scott who keeps stealing your lunches?”

“It’s either him or the monster under the fridge.” Tim regrets saying it as soon as it’s out of his mouth, because there are times jokes like that don’t feel all that much like jokes.

When they get back to the Archives, Tim is about to suggest a comfortable corner to have their dinner in when there’s a loud banging noise that almost makes him drop the containers. Sasha about jumps out of her skin. “What was that?”

“Who’s there?” Tim yells, despite having already realized that not doing that is practically Horror Film 101.

The answer makes Tim’s blood run cold, for two reasons. One, it’s coming from Jon’s office, the door of which is now ajar…and two, it’s Martin’s voice. “Storage room! Now!”

“Come on, come on!” Martin—the real Martin—grabs Sasha’s wrist on one side and Tim’s arm on the other and practically drags them across the floor. Sasha screams, and Tim follows her gaze and can’t help a shout of fear as well. Pouring out of Jon’s office are hundreds—maybe thousands—of small white worms, wriggling wetly and coming straight at them.

Martin makes a noise that’s somewhere between a whimper and a defiant yell and hauls both of them over to a door off to one side. He lets go of Tim long enough to yank the door open, then shoves the other two in and slams it shut once they’re all inside, breathing heavily.

“What the hell is going on?” Tim demands, wavering somewhere between outrage and fear.

“The worms,” Martin gasps, which isn’t really an answer. “This room is sealed. I checked it myself when I moved in. Also climate-controlled. Sturdy door. Soundproof. These old documents are better protected than we ever were.”

He sounds like he’s repeating a lesson. Sasha shoots him a sharp look. “And that voice from Jon’s office? The one that told us to come in here?”

“The one that sounded like you?” Tim adds.

“It is me,” Martin says, his voice high and sharp. Clearly he’s at the end of his tether. “From the future. He came back to stop the world from ending and this is apparently part of the plan and I, I knew he was going to start it tonight, he told me after we thought all of you had left that he had something to do and I was supposed to help him with it, but I wasn’t counting on you two sticking around. I also didn’t expect him to start this fast, but—” He breaks off abruptly and leaps back from the door. “Christ!”

Sasha looks stunned by the barrage of information. Tim is, too, but he’s also worried about whatever Martin sees out there, so he thrusts the takeaway containers at her without conscious thought and peers out the window in the door. What he sees turns his stomach.

“O…kay.” He takes a deep breath. “That is…a lot of worms.”

“Any sign of Prentiss?” Martin asks anxiously.

“Not yet.” Tim realizes what he just said and turns to look at Martin. “You think she’ll show up?”

Martin makes an exasperated gesture. “No, Tim, I think worms are just randomly pouring into the Archives undirected. It’s just your basic insect infestation. Maybe somebody left food out!”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture.” Tim steps back. He really doesn’t want to see what’s out there.

Sasha hands him back the takeaway containers and steps up to peer out herself. “Martin…are you sure it’s really…you know, you from the future?”

“Positive. He knows things about me that I haven’t…really told many people? He told me to—” Martin takes a deep breath and looks away from Sasha. “To, erm, tell Jon that I lied on my CV, I don’t actually have a master’s degree in parapsychology, I just really needed the job. He said Jon wouldn’t be mad at me, and…well, he was right. He told me the worms were under the Institute, but they weren’t really after me, so I’d be safe.”

“This is safe?” Tim demands.

“Well, I think he sort of—broke into the walls? He’s going after them now. I’m—I was supposed to set a fire, not a big one, just small enough to set off the suppressant system so that whatever got in here would die.” Martin swallows hard.

“You’re not going out there alone,” Tim says firmly.

“You’re not going out there at all,” Sasha says. She backs away from the door and leans against the wall, rubbing her temples. “God! Tell me you can’t hear that now.”

“Hear what?” Tim asks.

Martin cocks his head. “I don’t hear anything. And we shouldn’t be able to hear anything. I told you, this room’s soundproof.”

“I can hear the singing. Like…” Sasha frowns and moves away from the wall. Her frown deepens and she moves back. “Wait…it’s louder over here. Like it’s coming from inside the wall…this wall.”

“Isn’t that an exterior wall?” Tim asks.

“Should be.” Sasha thumps on it, hard, and manages to put a fist-sized dent in the drywall.

After that…things happen rather quickly.

#tma #the magnus archives #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#Tim Stoker is so much fun to write #I was so excited to post this chapter y'all #ollie writes fanfic

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