that one time travel psl

[eyediot]

sad bad end s5 jon and tim on a monster road trip



[Algric had given the trio a fair warning of what was happening. Not the specific details of what he was coming from, but he was from a little further along Algric's timeline, and came through Hilltop Road. Never pleasant, but he's here now. IT took a few days of settling, readjusting, and putting some firm self-imposed boundaries on himself before Jon felt comfortable enough to see the others.

After a few minutes of surprise and staring, Jon ends up sitting alone with Tim for a few minutes; the others having some things to take care of themselves. He sits there, fiddling a bit with his fingers, trying not to be self conscious. He can't do anything about the myriad of different, newer scars, nor about his black sclera or so many other things about himself now.

But god... Tim. Alive and not shouting at him right this second. How novel.]

Tim... I.. [Where does he even start.]

Comments

[curriculum_fictae]

No. No, he doesn't want to see Jon right now. Or Jonah. He can't bear the thought of them looking at him, Knowing what he's done --

He sucks in a rattling breath.

"N-no, let's. Please. The café. I'd like to go."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7boVSL4P6_4

[secreteary]

Martin only nods mutely and sets off, trying to keep an eye on his other self as much as his foggy brain and senses allow.

Granted, he prefers it this way. The fogginess protects him, for the time being, from the thoughts that would otherwise engulf him. They prowl around the periphery of his mind like wolves. Even if it's an illusion, there's a part of him that wants to try to be strong for Algric - as much as himself, until he feels safe enough to let go...or at the very least, can no long dam the flood - even as the intent at the beginning of this trip had been the reverse.

The cafe's small patio is largely unoccupied when they arrive, and Martin aims for the table in the least populated corner. No need to drag anyone else down with them.

...Should they order something? Would that be comforting at all? Or is this just a final practice of the usual ritual, where they sit in silence and attempt some kind of comfort for each other?

He'll miss the Danish here. They're really good.

...Lord. He is a terrible son.

oh no

[curriculum_fictae]

There is something comforting in huddling close like this, isn't it? Even if Algric still hates himself for robbing Martin of his mother. He hunches against the table, glad for their shared invisibility.

Mostly, anyway. He watches one waiter after another drift past them, unseeing. "I - I don't think we'll get anyone to stop," he murmurs. "No one can see us any more."

[secreteary]

"Did you want anything? I could-"

Wait. Can he?

When he's relatively certain that none of the other patrons are looking and there's no waiter passing by, Martin attempts to come into clearer existence. But then he remembers the scene at the home and gets too distracted; only managing a weak flickering.

"I'll. Let me try again-"

[curriculum_fictae]

Algric lets him, quiet but resigned. He doubts this will work. And it doesn't seem like he's going to be proven wrong.

"Don't strain it too hard," he says, quiet. "We can always just take something and leave money on the till."

[secreteary]

Can't even do this right. God. She has to be right about him, even now, doesn't she.

Subdued, Martin folds his hands in his lap and stares at them.

"...Sorry."

[curriculum_fictae]

Algric just shakes his head gently. "I'm ... I'm the one who should apologise."

[secreteary]

"...Why? You- You're going through this t-twice."

[curriculum_fictae]

"Because I caused it. I - " Killed her, he wants to say, but the words don't come. "- scared her. Shocked her."

[secreteary]

Ah.

"She hasn't been well for a long time." He knows he's saying this in vain; if he was in Algric's shoes, surely he'd be blaming himself, too. "It wasn't your fault."

So he says, but there's a seed of agreement that lodges somewhere in the dark recesses of Martin's mind.

"Maybe it had already started when she-" Martin's hand reaches up to gesture at where the vase had-- Oh. It's caked with dried blood. He'd completely forgotten about it.

[curriculum_fictae]

Ah. He's nearly glad for the distraction? It gives Algric something to hone in on that isn't his guilt or Martin's trauma. "You're hurt," he says, reaching for Martin's hand. "How badly?"

[secreteary]

"It's fine. It stopped a while ago, I think." He presses a couple of fingers gingerly to it again and checks them; nothing wet or fresh.

"For being so frail, she really...has a strong arm."

[curriculum_fictae]

That's good, at least. Not fresh is probably all he can hope for. Still, he grabs the pitcher of water off the table and dabs a napkin in it, using it to clean Martin's cut.

"She really does," he murmurs. "And even when she doesn't, she has a way of - of keeping you weaker than her."

[secreteary]

Martin isn't given a chance to protest before Algric is carefully tending to the wound. It's so kind that he doesn't dare say anything once his older self has started. Except, perhaps, a quiet "sorry" for the trouble.

It's...nice. Odd, to be on the other end of his own kindness, but really nice. Warm. It's brotherly, in a way. Even if Algric has been with him the entire time, Martin has felt, in some ways, very alone from start to finish. Ready to fade away. As it is, though, his edges get a little less fuzzy.

(If he was in a much, much different frame of mind, Martin might have a quiet joke to himself about a Persona Social Link RANK UP!)

Suddenly very aware of the sensation of fabric against his back, Martin nods mutely.

"Even when you feel like you should've grown beyond it."

[curriculum_fictae]

Sorry, Martin. No arguing with Algric on this one. He is very gentle cleaning Martin's wound, though, his movements slow enough that Martin could tell him to stop if he prefers. (Long experience dealing with skittish Jons by now.)

It's kind of nice being able to do this for himself? It really is brotherly, isn't it. What a thought that is...

"R-right. I - we - I thought that once I got tall enough, or old enough, I'd be strong enough. Good enough." A faint laugh. "She's good at making you feel like you're eight again."

[secreteary]

"But I couldn't stop hoping that the Mum I remember from when I was little was still in there, somewhere."

[curriculum_fictae]

A quiet, miserable little laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I - I never stopped hoping either."

[secreteary]

Martin opens his mouth, about to apologize, when he jumps - his mobile is ringing. No one around them takes any notice; he's too invisible for them to, but he's going to have to materialize if he wants the caller to be able to remember that they're talking to him.

And it's the home. So he might as well get it over with.

Reluctantly, Martin forces himself back into existence. Some patrons give him odd looks for appearing so suddenly, had he been there before? But people are very good at pretending that they haven't seen anything.

Martin picks up.

With sympathies, the nurse informs him that his mother had passed from a sudden and unexpected heart attack. At his earliest convenience, he can come fill out the paperwork and settle final fees. Do you have any questions, Mr. Blackwood?

"No. N-no, no. Thank you. Thank you very much."

He hangs up before the nurse can continue, and allows himself to fade out again.

"...So. That's it, then."

[curriculum_fictae]

Algric watches, only hearing half of the conversation, but ... that's enough, really. What else could it be?

That's it, then. He's killed her. Denied Martin his last year with her, yanked her away. He lets out a shuddering breath, an exhalation of chill. Focus, Algric. He knows beating himself up in front of Martin will surely make this worse for his alternate self.

"I - I can help with arrangements," he says, numbly. "Having done this once already."

[secreteary]

"You've done so much already, I don't-"

Is it strange that the phone call is what makes everything final? Not being there watching it happen, not walking out of the care facility. Martin's throat tightens.

"You don't have to put yourself through it again."

[curriculum_fictae]

Algric chances a hand on Martin's shoulder. "I'd rather - rather something good come of the experience, you know?"

[secreteary]

The reassuring hand isn't rejected. Martin looks at Algric curiously. "Good?"

[curriculum_fictae]

"Making it easy for someone."

[secreteary]

"Oh. Then..."

Putting Martin's feelings first is too kind of Algric, to the point that Martin has no argument despite good cause to refuse: to spare Algric's own.

"If that's what you really want to do..."

[curriculum_fictae]

"Y-yes. It's - it's the least I can do."

Given he caused this.