eyediot | that one time travel psl

[ Algric flinches, but he’s hardly touched; it’s Jon who gets the mess of mashed potatoes and congealed jello. Oh and the pain of a metal tray to the head, but at least she doesn’t have much arm strength. ]

“Just leave. Or I’ll throw something else.”

[ She’s already reaching for the glass of water on her bedside table.

Algric just. Breathes for a moment, breath rattling. ]

Jon, it’s okay. Let’s - let’s just go.

[He already had a headache. This doesn't change much, really. But he fixes some of Algric's curls that got out of place, nodding.]

All right. We'll go.

[He sighs and takes off his jacket and folds it inward on itself so the mess is contained.]

It was nice meeting you, Ms. Gorecki. [Petty politeness. He will be better than her and prove himself, damn it. But he'll carefully usher Algric to the door.]

[ Good call. His mother glowers but thankfully doesn’t throw anything else; Algric hurries to get the hell out of there, shutting the door behind them. ]

S-sorry. I - this was a bad idea. I should have known.

It's all right.

[He gets his folded jacket draped over his arm and just... Looks up at him, clearly worried. And trying to ignore the pulls around them. It's clear he's a little distracted, eyes darting around them but then he refocuses on Algric's face.]

At least you tried. That's better than not knowing.

[ Well. Algric is miserable, of course. He’s managed to stop crying, but sadness is etched into every line of his face. He only wanted a scrap of something like peace. For his mother to accept that there’s someone in the world that loves him ...

He scrubs at his face again. ]

Right. Right, I - I don’t have to come back here now.

...No. No, you don't. Neither does Martin.

[He carefully reaches to cup Algric's cheek.]

You know she's not right? What she said isn't true.

[ He leans into that, looking down at Jon. ]

I - I know. I mean, you might leave later on, but. But I’m prepared for that. I’m always prepared for that part.

[That... hurts? It hurts. Distinctly. He shuts it behind his eyes as quick as a blink.]

Don't see why me or other-me would.

[ Algric sees the hurt a moment too late and regrets it. ]

I - I don’t mean it like - people fall out of love all the time, right? It’s normal. You’ll figure out how terrible all of my flaws really are and. And you’ll go off with someone else, and. And that will be better for you, so I’ll try not to - not to get in your way.

[ Sorry, Jon. He’s been scraped bloody and raw by that miserable session with his mother. ]

...

[Jon moves his hand from Algric's cheek to his jaw, fingers curling into the back of his hair to pull him down, forehead to forehead.]

You stuck around when I accused you of murder. You-- You still loved me when I was stalking Tim, when- when I was the absolute worst paranoid ass and hurting all of you. You've seen the worst of me and you still... [Breathe. Breathe. Drown out the misery and fear and pain around them and just focus here. Ignore the throbbing migraine just behind his eyes from the hunger pangs. Don't notice his hands trembling, trying not to dig into his skull, he's holding back and in pain for it.]

I love you. And, as far as I can tell, right now? That isn't going to change.

[ Tears start to roll down Algric’s cheeks again as he leans in, forehead against Jon’s. His mother’s voice whispers that that’s a lie, that Algric is trapped in his own past, doomed to repeat his mother’s miseries. How could anyone love him? How can Jon love him? How? How?

And Jon tells him how. It should be laughable how ridiculous it is - sticking around to defend Jon from murder, really? - but to him, it’s comfort. Nearly romantic? More romantic for being so over the top. That means it’s honest. That means ...

He leans against Jon, dragging him in for a hug. And then he begins to weep again. This time, it’s more like lancing a wound; it’s still misery that spills out of him, but something healthier follows, pink and raw but better. ]

Oh--

[He's getting used to Martin and Algric's hugs. Still catches him off guard sometimes. It's something he can do though, hold him like this. Card fingers through those curls and against the short hair at the base of his hairline.]

I'm sorry. For- for all my nastiness. I didn't... know.

[And he can feel that misery in the room behind them. A woman, broken and hurt by the man who walked out that she cannot and refuses to believe anyone can genuinely love another human again. That seeing Martin's face reminds her so fully and completely of her own hurt that she can't even be in the same room.]

[ Misery passed on from parent to child, a horrible chain of neglect and abuse. The only peace Algric’s mother finds comes from acting out against that horrible face, to make the person who looks like the person who hurt her suffer.

Algric clings harder, trying to swallow his tears. Jon loves him. Jon loves him. Jon will not stop loving him, not for a while, at least. That’s - enough. ]

You - you couldn’t have realised. And I wouldn’t have told you. I - sometimes I wonder if it’s part of why I fell for you? N-not because it’s right, just ... just because if you were nasty, and she was nasty, a-and you turned out to love me in the end, then ... maybe ... she could ...

[Christ.]

No.

[Something about that thought horrifies him, deeply. He takes a breath, shifts just a little.]

I... hope that isn't the reason. This isn't the place to figure it out.

Right. Right, I -

[ He’s in an awful headspace, isn’t he? God. ]

Let’s just go.

Please?

[His plea is ragged, hand still trembling around his jaw. When he opens his eyes again, there's flickering green in them. Lowers his voice so he doesn't alarm anyone who could hear him.]

I don't know how much longer I can stay here.

[ Oh. Oh. Algric’s eyes widen with fresh horror as he realises (too late) what Jon must be going through. What Jon is still enduring now, being in a place so horrifically soaked in misery as this one ...

He pulls back just enough to take Jon’s hand tightly and all but drag the two of them towards the exit. ]

We’re - we’re going, okay? Just hold on, god, please —

Sorry-- I'm sorry.

[He keeps catching little snippets of every room they pass, particularly on this horrible, miserable wing. He can't help when his feet stop every other door, just for Algric to drag him along after a second, his cataloging the initial surface feelings of fear before moving on to the next.

He has to get his eyes out. He can't do this.]

I-i was trying to hold out until you were done.

You s-should have found me earlier, I - god, I wasn’t thinking.

[ Selfish, selfish, he’s so selfish. Guilt stabs through him every time Jon has to stop next to a door, has to take in more of that misery. All he can do is keep tugging his boyfriend along. He may be a miserable friend in this context, but at least he can be a firm anchor.

The entrance looms before them at last; Algric all but drags Jon along. ]

[At least once they get to the entrance doors, it eases a bit. He gulps the fresh air outside and tamps down that need and hunger.]

Y-you needed privacy. It's all right.

[Hard to have that with either of the Jons around and their abilities. Any time Algric asks for it, he tries to give it freely.]

I - yes, but - I was trying to spare you having to watch her - watch her be terrible to me. But I just pushed you into something worse.

[ Once they’re outside, Algric loops Jon into a firm hug. Here, he’s here. ]

[There's a quiet oof at being pulled into another hug just outside, but it's not unwelcome.]

No, I-- I rather think it was the better choice. I don't know how it would've gone if I'd watched that, but I don't think it would have been good.

[He'd been fighting down his anger for just those short few minutes for Algric's sake. But he still ended up compelling her and was horrified by it. Who knows how long he could have kept that anger in check.]

[ Yeah. Yeahhh. There’s ... no surprise from Algric. He just holds Jon a little more gently, letting him breathe. ]

I - I wouldn’t have blamed you. But. Yes. I thought it would be best if you had a bit of space.

[ A beat. ]

That’s ... also part of why I asked you to come and not Jonah.

[There's a question mark above his head that, after a beat, becomes an exclamation. He gets it, and... that's for the best. He still hasn't felt comfortable being in the same room as Jonah given the everything tied up in who they are, but he can at least predict how that would've gone.

God, he probably would've slurped this place up through a straw.

Jon rubs Algric's back before carefully pulling away, starting to nudge them along.]

I-i can understand that. ...I'm glad I was able to at least help you get here.

[Useless. Couldn't do anything to save Algric from the pain of the main conversation. Could barely hold himself together.]

[ At least Jonah would have been well fed, yes. But Algric isn’t sure that his mother would have survived the encounter intact. He’s ... not ready for that. Not sure if his mother deserves it, even after all of that.

He walks slowly, a hand on Jon’s shoulder in turn. ]

You helped a lot, Jon. It was - was good. Having someone to stick up for me this time. That’s never happened before.

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