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

[kayakking]

[Can he even read it?]

No.

[Jonah will feel himself being set down. A bench? The sounds of traffic are nearby. And judging by the radiant warmth and the sound of fabric against wrought iron, Tim sits next to him.]

No. Shut up. Listen.

I'll- I'm going to tell you about what just happened.

[eyediot]

Tim?

[Shut up. That gets him, green still flickering in his vision. The open air is helping some, but it's no substitute for actual nourishment. He can almost feel his head tilting heavily to one side before he straightens again. To passersby, he's just a really exhausted guy sitting with a friend.]

Y-you shouldn't.

[kayakking]

I don't care.

[He takes a deep breath, inhales. Exhales.]

I really, really, hate them. I don't know if I always have, since Danny- Since they killed Danny. It might have been mostly terror at some point, but it's changed. I changed.

[And it goes as it always does, his tone smoothing his words needing less time between the moments when he picks them- and when he doesn't pick them at all. It's truth, in all of its wretched shame, the spotlight that only shows the flaws, lavishes itself on the terror and the little parts.

He doesn't spend long on the parts Jonah already knows. Why would he?. After all, he heard Martin's recording of Tim's statement. It lived already in Jonah's catalog of fear.

But the account of Sasha, the realization, the chase, the transformation. How it distorted his memories, leaving a monster in his life, his vulnerable moments, his bed. And how he never knows now, who she EVER was. So much of the one or two good things to rip through the haze after Danny- twisted by a horrible stranger.

Hearing they'll kill him too. Kill Jon. Killed Jonah, was another blight on the world, another scar that will tear one of his best friend apart was too much. There wasn't fear anymore.

Not in the swirling lights and disorientation. Not in the pull where words lost meaning and he only Knew enough to make what he saw Wrong.

The fear was gone, only leaving pain. Snarling, outward flowing anger, frustration, and the capricious cruelty that came out of it.

And what he chose to do with it.

And Jonah hears, in Tim's quiet, almost breathless tones, about the moment he chose to let it go again.]

... All my life I've always known what to do next. I don't... know ... right now.

And that's it. That's where I am.

[Below the bench, a tape recorder clicks.]

[eyediot]

[He wants to stop Tim, he doesn't know about what'll happen next, how he likely won't have a restful night of sleep for months after he tells this - But one sentence in and maybe he shouldn't stop him. His muscles go slack as he listens, taking in every horrified, agonizing moment, every time Tim's had to question or look back and wonder.

He knew, deep down, how Tim felt about Sasha. But hearing it like this, Tim never being able to ever look back on those intimate memories again... It aches. He aches for Tim, even as he drinks up that fear and paranoia. And then the anger That isn't for him. It never was.

He's so used to the recorders, Jonah doesn't even register the click. But his eyes are bright, full green and he takes one long, slow breath in, more easily now than when Tim started. He's clearly had a good meal just now.]

...Tim, I... [Platitudes for things past never really did well with Tim, not for things outside anyone's control.] I think, right ow... The next step is rest. Recover. Then... Plan for Elias.

[kayakking]

Right.

[He feels a bit raw, emptied out. Tired. And Jonah, Jonah looks better.]

My place.

[eyediot]

Right.

[It's easier now, getting to his feet and standing straight. He can breathe easier, and he's just a bit sore. But he'll offer a hand to Tim to help him up. The worry he initially had for Tim telling that story, it fades, water down his back. Tim will be fine.]

Your place. I just.. Need some rest. [He looks up at Tim, and despite the words there's no pride in them.] You made it, Tim.

[kayakking]

[He takes it, though it's the hand to the bench back he uses to really push himself up.]

I.. I did.

[He lets out a long breath. He hadn't... really expected to? Even with all of the plans otherwise.]

God, I hope it proper fucks his plans.

[Spotting yellow, he waves a hand, and a taxi starts to ease towards their curbside.]

[eyediot]

[The taxi pulls up curb side, but Jonah is fixed on Tim, eyes still faintly green. A nice meal, yes, but worried all the same.]

It definitely kept the me here from dying, so that'll be harder to orchestrate a second time around. At least the way he needs it to happen.

[Door open, a quiet, clean taxi seat inside waiting.]

[kayakking]

[He seems.. fine. Alive. Alight. in a new way. Just looking at him, his clothes are torn and ashy, burned in places. But his skin is intact and clean, as if he put on a costume.

He leans his elbow on the cab's doorframe and helps Jon in before stepping to the far side.

Tim's address gets them moving.]

Yeah... He has to .. you know, know by now.

[eyediot]

Oh, I'm sure he's known for a little while. Was probably watching just to see what I would do.

[Follow some of the same paths, but not all of them. Enough to deviate and keep this timeline's version of himself safer. He has known. Since Algric tied himself to Jonah, he's known and been watching. That weight of his gaze and the paranoia of not knowing what Elias is thinking and doing on the other side of the spyglass is draining in so many ways.]

[kayakking]

Christ. Of course.

You know? I don't want to think about that prick at the moment. I take it back.

[At least they ease through traffic easily enough. This late, there's hardly any at all. The road is a familiar one, winding up to his house.]

[eyediot]

Probably best to think about the nice shower and clean clothes waiting for us.

[It's not the worst condition Jonah's been in, but it still isn't pleasant. God, he hopes there are enough sets of clothes at Tim's for both Jonah and Jon.]

That went... [Sigh.] Much better than last time.

[kayakking]

[Tim manages to find a bit of humor in that. As he's passing his credit card to the driver, the sarcasm goes up to ten.]

Given that the bar is: we both died. Yeah?

[And THAT gets a hell of a look at the two of them.]

[eyediot]

[At the look, Jonah looks back.]

It's- ARG, don't worry about it.

[And the driver just shrugs and takes the card to charge.]

But yes, not a high bar to step over.

[kayakking]

[He thumbs in a tip and there's a bing of the card being accepted. Tim climbs out and opens up the other door for Jon, offering a hand with concern.]

You... okay there?

[eyediot]

[Yep, grateful for the hand as he pulls himself out.]

Hm? Yes, I'm all right. Eyes just still sting a bit. [Like a pavlovian tick, he rubs his palm against one.] Probably just need a good rinse.

[kayakking]

I thhhink I've got some wash. [The oddity of Jonah just not healing whatever it is (do avatars of the Eye still have to care about eyelashes getting stuck?) passes by without a lot of thought. Mostly he's distracted now, out here in the well lit residential road he can ACTUALLY see Jonah.

And the burned marks in his shirt as the taxi pulls off.]

[eyediot]

Oh - thank you. I'll probably use that, then.

[But when the taxi drives off, Jonah watches it go, wondering what that man will tell his family about the strange conversation he just heard. But those scorched bits of fabric are well on display. Don't mind him, he grabs for his phone to text Algric.]

Let them know we're on the way back in.