Jon 'if a security system could have anxiety' Sims (
statementends) wrote in
bemorelovely2018-02-13 08:48 pm
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fuck elias man
Jon's hesitant to leave Elias' office and no, it was certainly not because he wanted to be in the man's presence anymore than necessary. The state Elias drove Martin into, ready to sacrifice himself on the chance at something changing, that haunted Jon more than he liked to admit. It felt like a barely dodged bullet, which felt like most things these days, really.
No, his hesitance was more an uncertainty of what to do now. He dropped off the radar, from Georgie and Martin, for five days and he could only imagine how they'd both react. At least he left Georgie a note when he left to stay with Martin, she had some idea, even if it was a vague one. Martin, on the other hand, he didn't contact at all.
Yes, that... was a mistake. He knew that.
It seemed like a small thing to worry about in the grand scheme of things- people were dead, he was turning into a monster, Basira and Daisy were now tied to it and, it turns out, Elias had a kill switch to keep them all in line. Now that he saw Tim it was pretty obvious he wasn't doing well and, if Jon was going to be honest with himself, unlikely to last if all he heard was true. 'Feed your god or it feeds on you.' Tim certainly looked... lesser.
"Jon?" Elias' tone is pointed, and Jon sighs. He doesn't bother any sort of goodbye as he goes out.
He wonders, briefly, if he could avoid Martin and just... go take this statement now. He didn't want to, not really, avoid Martin at least. He sort of wanted to just convince Martin to put off everything that needed to be said so they could go to bed and just sleep, have Martin close. Maybe take the statement first, the urge was strong.
No, his hesitance was more an uncertainty of what to do now. He dropped off the radar, from Georgie and Martin, for five days and he could only imagine how they'd both react. At least he left Georgie a note when he left to stay with Martin, she had some idea, even if it was a vague one. Martin, on the other hand, he didn't contact at all.
Yes, that... was a mistake. He knew that.
It seemed like a small thing to worry about in the grand scheme of things- people were dead, he was turning into a monster, Basira and Daisy were now tied to it and, it turns out, Elias had a kill switch to keep them all in line. Now that he saw Tim it was pretty obvious he wasn't doing well and, if Jon was going to be honest with himself, unlikely to last if all he heard was true. 'Feed your god or it feeds on you.' Tim certainly looked... lesser.
"Jon?" Elias' tone is pointed, and Jon sighs. He doesn't bother any sort of goodbye as he goes out.
He wonders, briefly, if he could avoid Martin and just... go take this statement now. He didn't want to, not really, avoid Martin at least. He sort of wanted to just convince Martin to put off everything that needed to be said so they could go to bed and just sleep, have Martin close. Maybe take the statement first, the urge was strong.
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He glances at the hall to the bathroom, then whichever way the exit was, then Martin. "I can leave, if you want. Give you some time to think."
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After a few moments of waffling over it he approaches, reaching tentatively to touch Martin's jaw with his good hand. It's pretty clear he wants more, he'd love nothing more than to drag Martin unsexily to bed and just stay there for a few days. Of course he's far too gross for that, and given everything he wasn't sure how welcomed any of that would be, so he just swallows and nods again. "Shower, right."
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"We can talk after you do." He can bring back up all of those things Jon was talking about while he paced, but first- just a moment to clear his head. A moment of lying in his bed, in silence, staring at the wall as he waits for Jon to get out of the shower.
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He makes a hasty retreat to the bathroom, where he does linger on bleak thoughts because that's the dour sort he is. Cleaning is a challenge, between doing it one handed and trying to be careful with the other. He tries to clean it as gently as possible and it hurts like hell so he gives up after a while. The whole thing takes much longer than he assumed, the water starting to go cold when he finally accepts it was good enough. He definitely had a bit of soap left in his hair he hastily cleans off with the sink when he realizes. He's an adult.
Clothes were the next problem. There was no way he was going back into the clothes he helped bury a body in, thank you, and he didn't have the forethought to ask Martin for some spare pajamas or something. He settles with a towel around the waist, and embraces the sense of awkwardness with the situation rather than the more unpleasant things he could focus on. When he reaches Martin's room he opens the door a crack, knocking on the doorframe.
"Could I borrow something? I don't ah... have anything clean to wear with me."
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"Oh, right, sorry," he says, getting up and heading to his dresser. "I meant to- here. I've washed all the clothes you've left here, but - here, pajamas. I meant to put them out." A pause, and then- "You can just get dressed in here, you know. It's fine."
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Right, putting them on was going to be an elegant affair. Screw Jude Perry.
The pants aren't as bad, thankfully, but the shirt is difficult to work around his arm without hissing in discontent. He tries not to, for Martin's sake and his own stubbornness, and when he's finally done his hair is a mess again and his glasses are askew.
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"Do you need anything else?" Asked quietly, but sincerely. "Before I turn out the lights."
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"No, I- thank you." He answers, taking a moment before sitting on the bed. "No this is... all I want."
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If Martin sounds exasperated, it's mostly at himself. He shifts then to climb beneath the covers, giving him a pointed look as if to ask if this is better, before he finally shifts closer to kiss him properly. It's a little sharper than his typical ones, sincere but quick, and he huffs softly when he pulls away. Not far, but enough to give them both a little space.
"I'm not going anywhere, for god's sake. I'm not the one who's run away from you. I'm never the one who runs away." God, he'd been worried sick when Tim had just stopped showing up one day. "I'll be here. So just get some rest, okay?"
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He wants to close the space but decides ultimately to respect the small distance Martin set, settling himself as best he could and closing his eyes. He hadn't been sure he'd be able to sleep before but physical exhaustion thankfully reared it's head, and it wasn't long before he was drifting off, fitful or not.
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"Morning," he mumbles when Jon's eyes finally open. "You coming into the office today?"
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He sighs and sits up, rubbing his face. "Yes, too much to do. I can hardly not show up after the drama yesterday- lord, I hope Daisy isn't there. Could do with never seeing her again."
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Martin swallows.
"It'll be good. To have you back around in the office again."
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He glances to Martin again, rubbing at his throat to test the tenderness before speaking. "Are you alright?" Of course that was a stupid question, none of them were alright but Martin seemed so... mechanical? Strained? Through everything after they left the Institute.
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He scrubs at his eye with the heel of his hand, his throat thick.
"Or I thought- maybe someone had captured you. Maybe you were being tortured for information, and here I was, having a cheese sandwich for lunch and pretending like things were fine, because- because I didn't know what else to do. How else to be. So no, Jon, I'm not okay, it's going to take me a while to be okay again, if that's- okay with you."
He hates this, the bitterness, the upset, wishes that he could just stow them all away and just relish in appreciation of the fact that Jon was back. Injured, yes, but not dead.
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The absolute worst part was he wasn't sure he could say it'd never happen again. He nods, hand dropping to the sheets. "What can I- ugh, I want to know if there's anything I can do. For you. You don't have to go in today, after everything Elias owes that much.
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Martin flounders and trails off.
"I need to be there. I'll be alright. Sorry to have just- gone off on you like that. You don't need this stress on top of everything else, too."
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With that out of the way he glances over again. "'Any regard for the proper way of doing things?'" He quotes, lips nearly quirking. He leaves it at that, you're welcome. "Martin, the place can handle one day alone. Besides, I'll go in and make sure things are as they should be. You've been handling that long enough."
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He drags himself out of bed and heads to the kitchen, door open behind him so Jon can hear him as he talks. He's putting a kettle on for tea. "I'm not letting you go in without me."
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Just saying it drains him, but in the end he's glad he did. At least it was a choice made entirely on his own, and for Martin's sake for once.
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