THREAD OVERFLOWS

[eyediot]

An overflow post for memes and other game threads.

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[eyediot]

[It's a quiet evening. They spent a lot of time cleaning the remainder of the small apocalypse out of every nook and cranny of their home. It was exhausting work, but satisfied to have it done. They could sleep in their own home again.

Which is how this starts, of course. Jonah asleep, curled up in Martin's warm arms when a dreadful chill comes across. Colder than his own natural Lonely chill. It quickly becomes uncomfortable enough to wake him, shifting to look around at the room with the bit of moonlight from the skylight.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin Sims is deep asleep still, so utterly exhausted (and completely content) that it would take a significant amount of effort to rouse him. The chill just makes him settle in closer to Jonah, drawing his husband into the warmth of his arms.

But there are two Martins in this room. Martin Sims is safe, happy, warm, and asleep; Martin Blackwood stands at the edge of the bed, his pale form only barely visible in the patch of moonlight lighting up his silhouette. He stares down at the two people in the bed: Jon, his Jon, the Jon he loved - and someone else. ]

Jon?

[ The mist rolls off him in waves; his voice is nearly lost in them. ]

[eyediot]

[He squints trying to focus on the specter, before it finally becomes clear. Jonah sits up slowly. Eyes glued to him now that he can see him. but his voice sounds haunted, unsure. Curious.

He rubs at one eye, uncertain if this is real.]

Martin?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ The man in bed next to him shifts at the sound of his name, but does not wake. The spectre takes a hesitant step closer. He has no colour to him at all, save the faintest, dimmest smudges of red where his curls would be. ]

Who? Who is that.

[ It's his voice all right. The same wavery one caught on that tape. ]

[eyediot]

[That voice is an instant bucket of ice water on his veins. His Martin. His, that he'd lost. That he'd killed.]

That-

That's you. You're Martin.

[curriculum_fictae]

It's me?

[ He sounds so uncertain as he stares down at his ghostly hands. ]

Yes. Yes, that. It sounds right. Martin.

[eyediot]

[Jonah sits up carefully so he doesn't wake his husband, but his eyes are glued to the ghost before him.]

Yes, that's right. You're Martin.

[It must be a dream. He has to be dreaming. And yet... This place has done stranger.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ At least his husband is super sound asleep here. He'll barely twitch as Jonah sits up. ]

And ... you're Jon. Jon, I -

[ A strangled sob escapes him. And he gestures to the Martin in the bed. ]

Where am I? Who is that?

[eyediot]

Right, it's Jon. [He nods along, helping him figure this out. And then-

He looks to his husband, then back to the specter, holding both hands out.]

It's - A bit complicated? We aren't in our world right now, it's - A different world entirely. He's also a version of you, just.. Different.

[curriculum_fictae]

He's ... me. But different.

[ The spectre's hands remain where they are, floating dimly next to the rest of him. ]

Why is he in your bed?

[eyediot]

Because....

[God. He sits up carefully, moving to come to the end of the bed to be closer.]

We both ended up alone here. And... and got close.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ The spectre drifts closer, the smudges where his eyes should be just murky brown dots in the rest of his face. ]

Close. How close?

[eyediot]

Um.

[This close, he can probably see the light catching on his ring.]

Close enough we fixed up this house together. And. And sleep like this, together.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Oh yes he can. That glimmer is bright in this little slice of moonlight. ]

You married him?

[ It's a strange, keening sort of question. A throttle of despair when he thought he didn't have anything left at all. ]

[eyediot]

[What should be a simple 'yes' response is caught in his throat at the noise Martin makes. His heart aches, wanting to make it right, fix it.]

Yes. We got married recently. There wasn't anything left for us in our worlds and have no intention of going back.

[curriculum_fictae]

I - I -

[ His voice breaks miserably, and the shade fades around the edges. ]

I'm so glad, Jon. That you found a better version of me.

[eyediot]

[He shakes his head at that. No no no no-]

It isn't that he's better or you're worse.

You were... [Jonah clutches at the bedding for his life, trying to let himself revisit this horrible past of his.]

I searched for you. I searched for weeks, months. And you were gone.

[curriculum_fictae]

Gone. Yeah. I was ...

[ His voice trails off, wavering. ]

I was waiting. All I could do was wait. And - and hope that maybe I'd see you again. Somehow.

[eyediot]

I... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lost you.

[When did he start crying? When did his voice start to crack?]

I did everything I could.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh. Oh Jonah. The shade shifts forward, lifting a foggy hand to Jonah's cheek. ]

Everything?

[eyediot]

[He leans into the touch, the cold bringing out the green handprint.]

Everything except staying lost there myself.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Ah. The shade sees that handprint; he shifts his own pale fingers away from it a bit. ]

I wouldn't want you to be lost too. I ... only ever wanted you safe. And happy.

[eyediot]

... Did you?

[He's hesitant asking, watching his face so carefully now.]

Because I... I was so certain you didn't want anything to do with me. Especially after the last time we spoke...

[While he loves the Martin here in his bed, Jonah can never r fully forget the memory of Martin cruelly laughing at his suggestion.]

[curriculum_fictae]

The last time we ...

[ Hang on, it takes him a moment. It's so hard to remember anything any more, as vague as he is, and that memory in particular is painful. ]

Oh. I ... I thought you weren't serious. That you couldn't be. Were you?

[ He disbelieves even now. ]

[eyediot]

... I was ready to run at any second, but only if it was with you.

[Everything about Jon's posture slacks. Martin never believed him. He shouldn't have gone looking in the Lonely, he should have wandered forever instead. That aching canyon starting to widen.]