for epistemological

[corkscrewed]

[ further continued from this thread. ]

[ things are, for a few more days, pretty good. they make progress. they make tentative plans. martin spends a lot of time with jon, wrapped around him when they sleep, and they never manage to quite finish the movie.

so, yes: things are pretty great, until suddenly they aren't anymore.

it's a strain to hold out hope with both tim and daisy gone, with jon in the hospital, but he does because he has no choice. the circumstances are less than ideal when he finally meets georgie, but she seems to understand the situation by the look on martin's face when she comes into the hospital room with her coffee. she usually brings two coffees from that point on.

so he clings to hope, because he has to, and when that finally starts to fray? peter is there. peter, who promises him that he can help. that with jon gone - and jon is gone, he says with gentle urgency - that others are going to need to step up. that martin will, because that's the only way to keep everyone safe. sure, it won't be easy at first, but it will get easier, and he'll barely notice the difference. that concessions need to be made.

so martin agrees to those concessions, and georgie starts spending more time at the hospital, to pick up the slack that martin leaves.

and then jon wakes up. don't, peter tells him. if you want this to work, you can't. it'll be easier if you don't think about it.

it works for a while, too. not that it's gotten easier at all like peter promised (and he has, quietly, sent georgie a single message to ask if he's okay, because that's all he needs to make it), but because martin is stubborn. because he's this far in, and if he can be the one to keep everyone safe, then he will.

it's working well enough until the evening jon's office door opens, and martin swears under his breath. the expression jon will catch on him is surprise, panic, before it's carefully arranged into something more neutral. busted. ]

Comments

[corkscrewed]

It's not guilt. And careful with the questions.

[ it comes out more snappishly than he means it to, but something in his expression is drawn. ]

I wanted to see you, too.

[epistemological]

[ He wishes he wasn't quite so pleased to have gotten a snap out of Martin. He's been acting like such a non-entity, worse than he ever had back when they'd first gotten to know one another. It had been... worrying.

This, not so much, though he holds up a hand.]

All right, fair enough.

[ His shoulders sink again, relaxing.]

You know where I am, Martin. Why the-

[ He stops himself.]

All right. I'm... glad. [ A short pause.] I've... I've missed you.

[corkscrewed]

Thank you.

[ martin takes a long breath, watching the table more than jon, before his eyes flick up to him again. ]

I miss you. Work- just has to come first. You of all people should... understand that.

[epistemological]

[ His hand closes, curling tight in on itself on the surface of the table. Otherwise, though, it doesn't move.]

It's very hard to understand anything at the moment, to be honest. But I suppose that's... nothing new.

[ He looks across at Martin.]

Are we- that is-

[ He presses his lips tight and keeps it a statement by force of will.]

... I need to know if we're in the sort of arrangement where we kiss one another or not. I think that's reasonable.

[corkscrewed]

[ the question seems to startle something in him and martin looks briefly more pained than anything else. he turns to the tea instead of his alcohol again. ]

Look, we can - if that's - if that's something you want to do, that's fine? That's- fine. It just - after tonight, we can't spend time together. So if that will make things- harder for you...

[epistemological]

[ He knows he shouldn't. He knows this is the worst thing in the world. He knows that Lukas is- he can guess what's going on here, he's no idiot, but once again, same as with Tim, he doesn't know who's complicit and who's a victim and he can't- he can't trust anything.

And that's the worst thing in the world. It's the part that hurts him so much. It's the part that makes him stupid.]

Fine, it's not a question to point out that Lukas is isolating you. And it's not a question to say that you're letting it happen and it is also not a question to say that if it's- if it's because [ that slows down some of his steam in the sticky, painful knot that is his throat a the moment ] if it's because of me, because I- I- I was in a coma or because of what Elias told you or because of anything else to do with me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Love is a choice. Love is choices, making the right ones to ensure the safety and happiness of the people who matter. And I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to make the right one if it's driven you t-t-to whatever this is.

[ He closes his eyes and he thinks about the choice he made, the one that made his lungs work, that brought his limbs back to function. The choice to become a monster, to become the Archivist in truth. He'd made it when he'd thought-

He'd thought he had things to do. But- ]

Always too late. I'm always too late.

[corkscrewed]

[ peter said it would get easier. peter said it would get easier, and it hasn't. isn't. this is stupid, this was a terrible idea, and he needs to send jon away. to make sure this doesn't hurt either of them any more than it needs to. ]

--ask me.

[ martin's voice is soft. ]

Ask me- why. I'm doing what I'm doing. Ask me.

[epistemological]

[ It would be easy, so easy.

It would be so easy to make him say the words. To make him explain.

But there's more than one reason why he shouldn't do that. More than one reason why he can't use that on Martin by choice.

Instead, moving slowly, carefully out of his chair, he lets himself climb down onto his knees beside Martin's chair. It's- he can't lean down, is the thing, so standing isn't going to work and the chair is able to hold Martin but certainly not the both of them. So instead, he pads over on his knees and he reaches out his hand to take one of Martin's.]

You can't throw yourself away, Martin. Maybe- [ he swallows ] Maybe you thought you were allowed because I was- because you thought-

[ He shakes his head.]

But that isn't right either. Whether I'm here or... me or anything else. But if you can't accept that, you have to know- [ Another swallow. ] 'Doesn't matter if you can see it or not'. Another 'gem' from M. Blackwood.

[corkscrewed]

[ martin stares at him, frozen when jon heads over to him on his knees, because he absolutely can't - reconcile this, not with the prideful and stubborn jon that he knows. he swallows hard, frozen when jon takes his hand.

his breath is seizing in his chest. ]

'Love is making the right choices to ensure the safety and happiness of the people who matter.'

[ but he doesn't pull his hand away. ]

[epistemological]

I believe you've described the author of that particular piece of wisdom as 'a bloody idiot'.

[ It's... it's logistics, Martin. This is how he can get there, how he can be remotely on Martin's level in a purely physical sense, and how his abdomen doesn't feel like it's in a fire made of pins and needles because stab wounds make things difficult.

Also, he's in the right spot to pull Martin's hand to his lips to press a kiss to the palm.]

[corkscrewed]

[ martin closes his eyes, savoring the sensation of that - strange intimacy. ]

Yeah. But I think it checks out. I- I need you to trust me, Jon. I need you to trust that I'm doing the right thing.

[ he shifts his hand, sliding it against jon's cheek, just desperate to touch him. his own expression crumples then, abruptly, and he's a little choked up when he says- ]

I'm so glad you woke up.

[epistemological]

[ He's shaking, just a little, even as he shifts in towards Martin's hand, lets his head rest against his side and his hip.

Trust him?

Trust him.

He has to think back for the words, find them again in his mind. It seems like a lifetime ago, even to him. To Martin, it probably seems even further away, a distant memory. But as far as he's concerned, it was only a few days ago.

He wishes it was.]

"When you act like you don't matter, it's saying that we don't."

[ He lets Martin's own words hang in the air as he looks up at him. And that's when he'll ask the only question he will ask. The only one he figures he deserves to know.]

Am I trusting the man who told me that?

[corkscrewed]

I said that, Jon. I said that, and I meant it, but- [ he shivers, touching his fingers through jon's hair, stroking his scalp. he'd tried to remain distant, careful, but he can't help it; if jon is close, responsive in a way he had never been in the hospital now, he's going to respond to that.

his voice cracks. there's emotion there that he never meant to show. ]

I don't have a choice. And I can't- let you talk me out of this. Do you understand? It's too late. Please don't. This- this has to be goodbye.

[epistemological]

[ He reaches up, reaches over, puts his hand to the curve of Martin's jaw, lets his thumb stroke down his cheekbone.]

It's only too late if one of us was dead.

[ He knows what too late is. He knows it far too well.]

And tell me what you'd do if I said that. How you'd react. What you'd choose. What you'd tell me.

[corkscrewed]

This is why. This is why you weren't supposed to come over, Jon. This is why I'm not supposed to be talking to you.

[ he leans in, breath unsteady, pressing a long kiss to the top of jon's head. ]

You said you didn't want answers, that you just wanted to see me. Don't- don't do this.

[epistemological]

I don't need those answers. I know what they are.

[ He leans up, stretching just a little in a way that burns but he can ignore it. He does ignore it to press his lips to Martin's, soft and careful before he pulls back.]

I'm reminding you. And you knew I would.

[ Does Martin even realize all the questions he could be asking? All the questions he's ignoring? The specifics he could drag out of him if he really really wanted to push the matter? The ones that would satisfy the great gaping need in him that's so much louder now. And so much... different than he imagined.]

Perhaps... we should go to bed.

[corkscrewed]

[ martin leans into the kiss, maybe a little desperately, because - he'd been so sure that jon was gone, that he would never get the chance to do this again. that his brief, perfect week with him was all that he would ever get, so that he would need to savor that memory.

maybe that was why his progress wasn't coming along as well as peter was hoping. he really wasn't able to let go. ]

I-I let you come here for- for closure. For the both of us. I don't want you to talk me out of anything, Jon.

[ his voice is soft, and pleading, and even so he's moving to help him up off the floor as gently as he possibly can. ]

Please don't make me - I don't want to regret this.

[epistemological]

[ He's not sure if this is justice or something else. If this is the most awful sort of reversal or fortune, fitting, or if it's even worse. The Gift of the Magi writ large and awful across them both, each of them willing to give up everything for the other but unwilling to realize-

Well, it's a few years too old for a spoiler warning but suffice to say, it didn't exactly work out as planned.

He wants to go to bed. He wants to take Martin to bed, curl himself around the other man and be curled around in return. He wants to wake up with soft dark hair against his nose and the scent of sulfate-free shampoo and even his feet off the edge a little because Martin's bed is too short for him.

He wants those things but-

But he also wants to love Martin.]

In the morning, I promise: I'll tell you goodbye.

[corkscrewed]

[ it's for more than just jon. that's part of what he's telling himself, too: he had signed up for this when he had thought jon would never be waking up. now that he was back - would he have still? would peter's promises of making a real difference, of protecting everyone, have lured him the way that it had then?

tim had given his life. sasha, too. martin doesn't want to die, but he yearns so badly to make a difference, wants to know--

if his life is already forfeit, maybe he can at least improve things on the way out.




jon's existence complicates things. ]

...thanks. Go ahead and head that way? I'm- I'm going to tidy up in here. It'll be just a minute.

[ he needs to drink some water, to compose himself in isolation. ]

[epistemological]

[ Jon looks at him for a moment before carefully levering himself back up into chair he'd been in, grunting just a little as he lands in the chair. There's a moment where he closes his eyes, though. ]

No, I think I'll wait.

[corkscrewed]

Jon-

[ there's a spark of frustration, but only a spark, and it fizzles out immediately. defeated, he takes a glass from the cupboard and fills it with tap water, gulping it down as he puts the kettle away and stashes the mugs in the sink.

sober up. he has to sober up. ]

I haven't had much by the way of company in- in a while. [ hesitation, and then he adds: ] It's been a lot longer for me than it has you, you know.

[epistemological]

[ Jon looks back, pure challenge on his face. No. No, Martin doesn't get to put any more limiters on this. Jon refuses to give up any more than he already is. He gets tonight, and he's not giving up even a few seconds more of it than he has to.

Besides, he wants to suck down the tea as it will help him stay up a bit and as it's cold at this point anyway, it goes fast.

Martin's comment, however, earns him a flat look.]

Keenly aware, Martin.

[corkscrewed]

[ he's not so far gone that he doesn't wither under jon's flat look, even as a stupid part of his stomach flips happily at the comfortable familiarity of it. jon is here, and back, and so wonderfully alive, and martin doesn't know how to put into words how much he missed him.

so he won't. he just gulps down another half glass of tap water and puts that into the sink, too, before heading awkwardly toward the hallway. ]

Do you... need help standing?

[epistemological]

[ Jon answers that by pushing himself to his feet, going slowly before sucking in a breath and letting it back out with a sigh and a shake of the head.]

I'm fine. And- [ another breath ] don't suppose you kept my luggage, the bag I left here?

[ His clothing situation is currently not optimal. A few extra pieces would be nice.]

[corkscrewed]

Yeah. I - it's in my closet. Do you want me to get it for you?

[ he sees the way jon is having to pull his breaths, and for all the distance martin is desperately trying to put between them, he can't stop watching him, concern on his face. ]