#and once i have the whole week done i'll post it in a clump on ao3 or something maybe

[burlesque-articulation]

Opening Note: Okay, so I’ve decided that for PeterMartin week, I’m going to write a sort of… short series in a chronological order, where for each day it’s going to follow the rough timeline that takes place in the 6 months after the Unknowing, before the start of season 4. As the days/story progresses, so while the odd relationship between Martin & Peter, because I think that’ll be fun. Plus I’ve already locked myself in on this setup, so there’s really no turning back for me. So! Without further ado…

PeterMartin Week Day One: Lighthouse // Concealment | 4.1k

It had been weeks now, since the Unknowing, that is. And Martin had found himself in a bit of a weird spot, unsure of how he was meant to carry on-- or really, if he even could. But he did know that he couldn’t continue sulking around the archives, or bumming about Jon’s hospital bed waiting for everything to just magically be okay. Yet it also wasn’t like there was much for him to do. It wasn’t like he could quit and run away. Though he doubted he would be able to do either of those things even if they were a possibility. So instead, he settled back into what he knew.

Taking, and researching, statements.

The current statement in question, had come in from someone by the name of Castor Wick, and it had led Martin some couple of hours away from London to just outside of Norwich, along the shore somewhere between Mundesley and Walcott. And that was where he found it. A small, out of the way, and rather out of place, lighthouse. There were no mentions of it on any travel guide or roadmaps, and quite frankly, he wasn’t sure it was even supposed to be real. A few kilometres to the south there was one in Happisburgh anyways, and some authority or other had already tried to get that one deactivated or something a while back. Or at least he’d read something like that on the long trip out this way.

Regardless, he was there now, standing not too far from the thing, and by all accounts, it did look pretty abandoned and rundown. Though it didn’t look like the weather had torn any of the railings off the top sections, or blown any holes in the siding; it was definitely a few decades off from being “new”. But his “source”, so to speak, relayed as much. The statement giver had grown up around this area, and according to them, the lighthouse had always been this curious oddity to themself, and their childhood friends, and so about a month ago, now that the friends had all grown up, apparently they’d all also found the gumption to break into the old place and have a peek around. 

And naturally that’s when things had gotten “weird”, as the statement giver had so eloquently put it.

But, with any luck, the statement was a hoax, and Martin wouldn’t have any troubles. After all, he’d already promised himself that if the front door to the Lighthouse didn’t budge, then he was no longer obligated to do any further research into the described phenomenon that had occurred here about a month previous. After all, it wasn’t like he had a disgruntled boss back at the office that would berate him for not doing the utmost possible. And now, somehow that thought depressed him to think it.

So he stopped thinking about it, swallowing it down and concealing it in the back of his mind as he approached the lighthouse before him. The closer he got the taller it seemed to get, and was almost picturesquely wrapped in smokey tendrils of mist coming off the water. The more he regarded the building before him, the more it resembled something out of an eerie postcard. Which figured, honestly. And as luck would have it, when he reached what had to be the front door of the place, the knob was cold against his hand and turned easily, creaking slightly as it swung open. Even still, Martin proceeded with caution, looking over his shoulder, and along both sides of the empty beach. Upon seeing no one, he steeled himself, and entered the Lighthouse. And was immediately greeted by another door.

Standing in the small entrance way, Martin allowed the first door to close quietly behind him before trying the next door, once again finding that one unlocked as  well. But unlike the first, this one opened without a sound, as if the hinges had been newly polished or something, and the age of the building from outside hadn’t yet reached the inside. As Martin stepped through the second door, he was entirely put off guard by how well-preserved the place appeared. Not a speck of dust on any of the surfaces or floor; the paint looking fresh, as if it had just gotten a new coat no more than a few days ago. There was still a musty smell in the air though, like that of an old basement, or attic, even. A place few feet ever tread, and with each step further in to the main room, the floor creaked and groaned, unable to pretend to be anything other than old and worn, despite the look of it all.

Towards the back of the main floor, he could make out a short of old kitchen area with a wood stove that seemed to branch off into what he assumed would be living quarters, but he couldn’t actually bring himself to step further in that direction; instead casting his gaze to the side and up, following the spiral metal staircase that led up towards the top of the Lighthouse. The whole building felt off, and empty in a way that something as small as it was shan’t have. “I think I hate this place.” He muttered to himself.

"Then what brings you here?"

The voice coming from beside him made him jump almost entirely out of his skin as he slammed a hand against his chest and stumbled away from a person he certainly hadn't seen since entering--

"M- Mr. Lukas?"

Peter Lukas smiled warmly, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his woollen overcoat. "Martin, hello."

"W- How did you get in here? Why are you here?"  Despite recognising the man that now stood next to him, Martin was not at all put at ease.

“Hm? Oh, I’m simply checking in, nothing to worry about.”

“Check- checking in, is it? On what exactly, Mr. Lukas?” 

The man’s eyebrows rose, as if the question surprised him. “On this place, of course. I dare say, I thought you were meant to be a researcher, Martin. This Lighthouse was built and maintained by my family. And really, Martin, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Peter?”

“At least once more,” Martin said dismissively, “So that’s why this place is all weird then, eh? Is this some... gateway to the Lonely then?”

Lukas blinked at Martin’s question. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Great.” Martin headed for the stairs, leaving Lukas behind, and distantly hoping he would stay there. He wouldn’t, but Martin could still hope. As he began to ascend the stairs, he started by counting the steps he took, uncertain as to why, but when he finally reached the top of the spiralling stairs, he'd somehow managed to lose count.

"You know it's quite rude to walk away in the middle of a conversation, Martin."

“Is that what we were having? A conversation, was it? News to me.” Martin finally turned around, unsurprised to find Lukas standing not two feet away from him. But at hearing Martin’s words, an amused little smirk crossed the man’s face. And somehow that was worse than any other possible reaction. The quiet enjoyment Lukas seemed to take from Martin's snark just didn't sit right with him. After all, normally if someone said something less than inviting, it was a clear sign that one wanted someone to piss off. And yet. “Don’t look at me like that.” Martin huffed.

“Like what, exactly?” Lukas questioned, all while still keeping the exact same expression on his face.

So Martin just ignored him, and headed towards the metal ladder that was placed across from the top of the stairs. Placing a hand gingerly against the rung at eye level, he inspected the ladder and found that, like the ground floor, it did not show its age. If anything it looked as if it had just been freshly polished or something. But at least it looked sturdy enough that he was unlikely to break anything if he attempted to climb it. So rather than continuing the ‘conversation’ with Lukas, Martin began his ascent up the ladder, towards a grate that seemed to be made out of the same metal as the ladder, but thankfully wasn’t nearly as heavy as it appeared.

"Martin?"

"Sh." He waved a hand dismissively at the man below him before focusing on pushing the grate up and then continuing his climb. As his head poked up through the hatchway, he immediately felt a cold ocean breeze against his face and rustling through his hair. The smell of saltwater and seaweed welcoming his senses as he climbed out and onto the catwalk at the top of the Lighthouse. It only took a moment of consideration before he carefully flipped the cover of the hatchway back over and into place. Then it was only after doing so that it crossed his mind that, if Lukas wanted to follow him, he probably wouldn’t have to climb up the ladder like Martin had. Still, there was a certain amount of vindictive joy that came with the action. Stretching out his back, Martin gazed around, noticing that the sparse amounts of mist that had rolled off the water seemed to have turned now into a heavy fog that clung to the shore of the beach. As Martin peered out towards the water, he found the view entirely obscured by the fog, barely able to even see the water closest to the shore. It made sense that this didn’t make him feel too great about things.

Swallowing a sigh, Martin turned to inspect the Lighthouse’s lamp instead, and ignore the growing feeling of unease in his stomach. He was probably just overreacting anyways. The lamp seemed to be a somewhat older one. Paraffin, maybe? And unlike most of the Lighthouse, it definitely looked like it hadn’t been in use for decades, or even longer. Oddly, though, was that there still seemed to be signs of when it had last been in use, a thick layer of smut coating the inside of the glass. Although, he supposed that could just be dust. Probably wasn’t though.

Exhaling a long breath, Martin eyed the hatch, deciding it was probably best to just leave now. Clearly there wasn’t anything that weird about the place, and he was pretty sure the statement giver had been drinking with their mates, and they’d come in the night, so… God, he sounded like Jon, didn’t he? Trying to come up with a witty logical reason for things rather than except that something strange might’ve happened. Lifting the grate and placing it down gently, he descended the ladder, only pausing for a moment when it crossed his mind that he probably ought to replace the hatches cover, for no other reason but that it would be polite of him to do so, really.

Back down in the Lighthouse, Martin didn’t know whether to be happy, or further unnerved, to find Lukas nowhere in sight. It was reasonable to assume that Martin’s less than hospitable attitude had convinced the man to leave, or that he’d left to inspect the ground floor instead of waiting for Martin to come back down. That’s when… that’s when Martin really started to notice things about the place. First thing was when he let go of the ladder rung, and a smear of rust came off with his hand, staining his palm with the unsavoury russet colour of unkempt metal. Then, the floor, that seemed to have accumulated a lifetime's worth of dust in the five minutes or so that he’d spent above. The walls seemed to have bent and bowed with age, warped from their many years left uncared for by the sea’s shore, and no doubt if they were to bend to the point of snapping, the framework of the Lighthouse would yield nothing but rotten, decayed wood. 

And it wasn’t that Martin hadn’t noticed this all before-- it was the fact that it hadn’t been like this before. The knot in his stomach shifted as he looked down the spiralling metal staircase. It still looked vaguely in one piece, but… with the state of decay the walls were in, he doubted the staircase was sporting any stellar amounts of support. He took a few cautious steps down the stairs, and he really didn’t love the way they creaked and groaned under foot, the occasional hollow clunk as if a nail or screw, or something, had come lose. Luckily, he still managed to make it back down to the ground floor, and the whole staircase didn’t collapse in his wake so… He was probably going to be fine, right?

“Um… Mr. Lukas? Are you still here somewhere? Because I’m, uh… I’m leaving now, y’know. Place really isn’t that strange or anything, so… I figure this was a wasted trip.” 

No answer.

“Great, yeah. Okay, bye then, creepy lighthouse.” Martin clicked his tongue as he scooted over towards the door, no longer surprised to see that it was also showing its immense age. Or that the floor was covered in debris, and the smell of must and abandonment had only grown stronger the longer he regarded the door. Which honestly tracked. But all he had to do was leave and everything would be fine, so. No big deal.

He only hesitated when he noticed the thick layer of dust that clung to the door handle, but quickly managed to just… ignore it, and he wrapped his hand around the handle and opened the door. Or tried to. It wasn’t magically locked or anything. And it hadn’t warped to the point that it was stuck in place. No, what stopped Martin from opening the door, and by extension nearly gave him a heart attack, was a large hand slamming palm first against the old wood, forcing the door to stay closed.

“I don’t suggest leaving just yet, Martin.”

Martin didn’t respond immediately. Mostly because he was trying to make sure his heart wouldn’t explode. That being said, standing statue-still and staring wide-eyed at the door in front of him probably wasn’t a good look if he wanted to pretend Lukas hadn’t just almost scared the shit out of him. “Oookay… and why is that?” He finally asked, still white-knuckling the door handle.

“Well, I would have addressed it earlier when you brought it up; the-- thing about this Lighthouse being a sort of… gateway to the Lonely wasn’t entirely off base.”

Martin nodded sharply, but made no other movement. “Right. So… are we… are we in the Lonely, right now?”

“No. The Lighthouse as it currently is, is neither here nor there. Unless of course, you decided to leave, in which case, you would certainly find yourself in the Lonely.”

Martin’s face scrunched at the revelation, and slowly, he managed to pull his hand away from the door handle and step back. “Great. That’s great, that is just… peachy.” Martin exhaled a long breath, turning around to pace in the open space available to him. “So, what? Are we stuck here now? Or is there something special we have to do so that when that door opens we’ll be back in… in the real world, or whatever?”

Lukas seemed to relax, lifting his hand from the door and shrugging slightly before speaking. “This is hardly a matter of ‘we’, as I am more than capable of coming and going from the Lonely as I please.”

Martin folded his hands, pressing his knuckles against his mouth as he took a deep breath in through his nose. “O-K, so! What do I have to do then?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that. I have certainly never been in such a situation, and neither have I ever had reason to get someone out of the Lonely.”

“Guess I just have to wait it out then, don’t I?” Martin decided, looking around the sparse room for a chair or something. Finding nothing of the sort, he went back to pacing the length of the room, back and forth. “There has to be some way to… speed it up, though, right? I mean, clearly when I first entered, I was still in- in England, or whatever. So… do I have to go back up to the top of the Lighthouse again? Retrace my steps or something? Undo whatever it is I did in the first place?”

“I believe you’re thinking of this too literally, Martin. Or rather, you’re thinking about this like an acolyte of the Eye would, which isn’t surprising, but it certainly won’t help you. I doubt you’ll find any magic clues that will reverse your situation.”

“No? Then what? I should think of it like… like you would? Takes someone who’s lonely to figure out the Lonely? God I hate that.”

“Then perhaps you ought not to have come here in the first place.”

“Yeah, a bit late for that, innit?” Martin turned to glare at the man.

And, of course, Lukas only shrugged under Martin’s ire. “What do you want from me, Martin?”

“Well, a bit of help would be appreciated, actually. Seeing as this is your… area of expertise, so to speak.”

Lukas looked considerate for a moment, head tilted to the side ever so slightly as he seemed to be weighing options. At least, that’s what his expression brought to Martin’s mind. “And what would be in it for me if I did help you?”

Now, obviously Martin’s first instinct was to just ask what Lukas wanted, and maybe bargain from there depending on what was requested. However. Martin actually brought his brain with him on this trip. “ Oh? So now you’re saying you can help me? Before you said you wouldn’t even know where to start, but now, suddenly you know what’s up, but you want something from me first? How do I know I’m not gonna end up agreeing to something, only for you to have no idea how to get us out of this, hm?”

Lukas’ brow furrowed, and he seemed to mentally go back over what Martin had said a few times before his frown only deepened. “Apologies, Martin, but I don’t follow.”

Martin took a short breath, before just being blunt. “How do I know you can actually get me out of this Lighthouse?”

“Oh. Well, I suppose you don’t, but it would also appear as though you don’t have many other viable options for a means of escape. As you said, you could simply continue to wait it out or…”

“Or I could listen to your offer.”

“Correct.”

“Hm.” Martin crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his shoulders as he considered. “And what exactly is your offer then? What’s the catch for getting you to help me out?”

“Well, as you know, I have made it clear I would like you to be my assistant at the Institute, however… unlike your former boss- that is to say, Elias- I’m not as interested in forcing people into inescapable contracts. And given what your responsibilities as my assistant would include, it would work far better if you were willing to work with me.” Martin’s shoulders tensed as the man paused. “After all, your interest in research would be an asset in what I need from you.”

Martin relaxed slightly, but he still wasn’t quite sold yet. “So… what? If you help me out of here, then I’m obligated to… consider the position as your assistant?” That sounded far too simple to be all there was to this.

“Not exactly. As things currently are, I have been having some issues with adjusting as the new director of the Institute, so rather than having your mere consideration, or fully throwing you into the position, it would be of great help if you simply… made yourself available to me when I have issues with the more… mundane day-to-day nonsense of the Institute. And when you’re ready, we can have a proper conversation about the more… esoteric demands of your position as my assistant.”

“Alright, so you help me this once, and then I spend the rest of my time helping you out here and there until I’m ready to make a full commitment?”

“Basically, yes.” 

Martin eyed the door that led out of the Lighthouse, finding himself wondering if maybe this had been some sort of grand, complicated setup. But the more he regarded Lukas, the less he was certain the man was capable of something like that. The thought still itched at the back of his mind though. “How do I know that i can’t just… walk out of here right now and find myself back in the normal world?”

Lukas sighed, but didn’t seem surprised by Martin’s question. “Naturally, you are more than welcome to open up this door and have a look for yourself, but I assure you, you won’t find England on the other side of it.”

“Well naturally. I’d just find another door, because beyond this one is a tiny little entryway.” Martin couldn’t help but point out.

“Yes, of course, but… you know exactly what I meant. But if a demonstration is what you need, then by all means.” Lukas reached a hand back towards the door handle, as he’d never actually managed to step away and had more or less just stayed in the same place throughout the whole exchange, and opened the door, letting it creak open to reveal the actual door that stood between the Martin, and what would supposedly be ‘the Lonely’. “You are more than welcome to take a peek.”

Martin took a moment to look from the door, to Lukas, and back again before making his decision. “You know what? I think I will.”

“Fine. Be my guest,” Lukas stepped to the side.

Martin eyed him as he passed by. It was only when he reached the outer door that he paused for a moment. The door handle was surprisingly warm against his palm, but like before, the door opened easily, and for a moment Martin dared to hope. But as the door opened, he was greeted with a dull grey light from outside and the sight of thick fog. Looking down, he didn’t see a worn path, but greyish water that stretched away from just outside the doorway, and eventually mingled and seemed to become one with the swirling grey mist, until telling them apart was impossible. Martin also noticed how, even as he leaned out a bit, staring into the seemingly clear depths of the water, there was no image of himself reflected back, and there was no discernible bottom beneath the calm water.

The longer he stood there with the door open, then closer the fog seemed to stretch out towards him, until it seemed to be reaching out, ready to grab him. Martin quickly pulled back, and pushed the door closed once again, leaning against it, and finally realising that he was very nearly gasping for breath, as if he hadn’t breathed since he opened the door.

“Okay, alright. So, um… I help you out with any future difficulties in regards to the day-to-day of the Institute, and you can get me the hell out of here, right?” Martin turned around, and found Lukas’ frame standing in the doorway.

“Not a fan of the Lonely I take it? Bit of surprise, I will admit.”

“Hm, no, I just… don’t really feel like a swim right now.” 

Lukas frowned, tilting his head to look at the door Martin was leaning against. “Was it high tide already?”

“You could say that, yeah.” 

“Hm. Well, we can leave whenever you’re ready, I believe. You are finished with your little investigation, yes?”

“Yup, very finished, very much done. Also I’m starting to feel like you might’ve set this all up, and while I don’t like it, I would still rather be out of here than just… left stranded, so. Yeah.”

“Martin, as I said, I’m not the sort to come up with ways of forcing people into contracts. No, this is nothing more than a bit of luck, at least on my end. Really, given how long this place has been abandoned, it’s unsurprising that its managed to find a life of its own. It’s quite interesting, actually; perhaps after I get you sorted I’ll come back here… but let us focus on one thing at a time.”

It really was too early to tell if Martin would come to regret his decision to agree to work with Lukas, even if it were just in a small part, but he was vaguely certain that this was a sort of… foot in the door scenario. And it would likely only be a matter of time before Lukas managed to completely enter, and Martin would finally have to deal with whatever nonsense the man had decided he needed Martin’s help specifically with. But one thing at a time.