Chapter Text
Of all the avatars most unhappy with the current state of affairs, two stood out amount the rest as the most displeased. The Beholding has ruined the Sky. Simon Fairchild was not particularly pleased with this turn of events. Oh sure, people could still free fall in the new world, but the sky he had so fallen in love with, the thing that set him down his path with his god, was gone. Replaced by ever-watching eyes, inescapable even as one embraced the falling titan. Simon Fairchild missed the sky, and if he had to make deals with unsavoury avatars to get it back, well physically he may spend time being above things, but he was not above making the deals he had to.
Oh, the end of the world didn’t bother him so much. People were insignificant anyway, and none of this really mattered of course, and Simon did enjoy that there were fewer people around. But it was hard to enjoy the vast and empty pointlessness of it all when the Watcher’s presence very clearly indicated a point. That point being to be observed. It was hard to embrace the nihilism of his patron when the very existence of the eye blotting out the sky contradicted it.
Surprisingly, the other avatar most unhappy with the current state of affairs was Jared Hopsworth. He hadn’t wanted an apocalypse in the first place, and while all the bodies and meat around in his little corner of the hellscape that was now their reality were all well and good, he missed bones. The bones he took from people now weren’t good bones. No one needed to eat here in the new world, so no one’s bones were strong. They didn’t need to be, because the rules were different now. But Jared still missed some good bones. He personally wouldn’t have tried all that hard to fix the world however, not because he didn’t want it fixed- but because he didn’t have much in the way of ideas on how to fix it.
Thankfully Simon Fairchild did. It was not what one might call a good plan, but it was a plan, which was more than Jared would have been able to come up with on his own. It required the cooperation of several entities, and were it not for the fact that Annabelle Cane also appeared to want the world back as it was, Simon doubted it was a plan that would work. But she seemed to be on his side. So now, with his forces gathered, all he had to do was wait for a Spider to net an Archivist.
***
It was the third phone call that finally worked. Martin answered, stressed and tired and beginning to feel like he was being stalked by vintage telephones. Annabelle didn’t even really try to manipulate Martin this time though. No more than any conversation with her might be considered manipulation at least.
“No, there’s no way we can trust her,” Jon said, but his voice was filled with doubt. The bait that Annabelle had dangled in front of them was too much even for Jon to dismiss entirely. The chance the undo it all, to go back.
“Well, I mean after what you did to the Not Sasha, how much would we really be risking meeting with them? It’s not like time has any real meaning anymore. And besides, if she’s telling the truth, their plan is probably better than ours.”
“We don’t have a plan Martin.” Jon said with a sigh.
“Exactly.” Martin countered. “Look you're- you‘re in charge here right? And, and if they really want to fix things, well we need allies Jon.”
“I just don’t like that the Web is involved. It makes me very nervous,” Jon said with a sigh. The Web was one of his very very few blind spots and he didn’t much care for anything resembling being blind these days.
“Yeah.” Martin agreed, taking Jon’s hand. “But if all else fails, we kill them all and go back to plan A. Besides, you may not be able to see the Web, but Annabelle said Simon Fairchild was involved. You can see him right?” Jon wasn’t sure he was entirely comfortable with how murder-happy Martin had become of late, but he supposed everyone had to cope with the apocalypse in their own ways. Martin was also correct. He could see Simon Fairchild. They weren’t all that far away from where this supposed council of avatars was supposed to meet, and everything he now Knew about Simon Fairchild did seem to indicate that Annabelle had been telling the truth.
“Alright, fine. We- we’ll go. If there really is a way to fix this then I suppose we can’t afford not to take the chance.”
“Yes!” Martin fist pumped the air, and Jon couldn’t help but smile.
He wasn’t smiling when he realized exactly what the plan was though. No one seemed to believe it was possible to put the genie back in the bottle as it were so they were talking about going back. Which, yes, Jon could see the appeal. If it were possible to prevent this from ever happening they would save millions of people the trauma of the various microcosms of hell, but it also meant that Martin couldn’t come with.
No one could. If they went through with it, the only one strong enough in this new ruined world to survive going back, was the Archivist. A living chronicle of terror Jonah Magnus had called him. He felt like it now more then ever. What they were talking about was essentially downloading his current memories into his past body. Jon was more than a little hesitant to agree, for a number of reasons. Of course once the plan was explained Jon Knew it would work. He was surprised to learn that the Eye wasn’t fighting him on this either. Though Jon supposed now that it had seen the world ended it was still looking for new things to watch. It wasn’t going to actively help, but it wouldn’t hinder either.
No, the thing that stopped Jon short more then anything, was Martin. If he went back in time, the Martin he fell in love with would be gone. It would be like loving someone with amnesia. Jon looked at Martin, then back at the assembled Avatars. There was Simon Fairchild, Annabelle Cain, Jared Hopsworth, presumably a representative of the stranger, and Helen. The last one had been a bit of a surprise actually, though Jon supposed it shouldn’t have been. The world was madness right now, which meant that anyone Helen preyed on, well the fear was there but the flavour was wrong. Jon Knew, he wished he didn’t, but he wished he didn’t know a lot of things these days.
“I- I need to think it over.” He finally said. Annabelle shrugged.
“It’s not like time really means anything,” she said. Simon seemed amused at that and Jon knew the lack of time was one of the few things about Armageddon that he actually enjoyed.
“Right, right,” Jon said absently, pulling Martin away. Leading them far enough away so as not to be overheard. Well. Overheard by anyone save the Eye; though there wasn’t much one could do to avoid its gaze these days.
“What do you think Martin?” Jon asked.
“I mean, can we trust them? Are they telling the truth? Cuz it sounds too good to be true.”
“It’s- yes. Yes they are telling the truth. But there’s a catch. If they send me back, it’s me alone that’s going, and I wouldn’t be able to survive the trip were I human, so I’ll only be able to go back as far as my coma.”
“Well, that’s not great, but it’s still a chance to stop this from happening.”
Jon sighed, his guilt weighing on him heavily. “Yes yes of course you’re right. I-“ Jon stopped and shook his head.
“There’s something else. What is it?” Martin ask, grabbing Jon’s hand.
“It’s just- If I go back you won’t remember us,” Jon said helplessly. “I- I know that’s not the biggest issue, and the fate of the world is literally at stake, but, when I woke up from my coma the first time you were, you were gone and I-“
“Sisyphus,” Martin said abruptly.
“I- I’m sorry what?” Jon said bewildered.
“That’s my time travel word.”
Jon stared at Martin. “I don’t- what?”
“When all the mess with the entities first started I figured since our lives are basically a bad horror novel there was the distinctive possibility that one day, we may have to deal with time travel or something. So I came up with a time travel code word, so if I met myself I’d know it was me and not one of the Not Them or something.”
“I- Martin that’s-“ Jon began to laugh. “That’s brilliant. You are incredible.” He added through his laughter in a way that implied incredible really meant ‘huge nerd’ but it was said with love, and Martin laughed too.
“If- if we’re doing this, I want to give you a statement,” Martin said after a while. “For, for past me, I know you can remember all the statements word for word, so I want you to take one from me so if you need to you can recite it for past me.”
“So- so we’re doing this then?” Jon asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
“I- I guess so.” Martin said, a matching tremor in his own voice. “Statement of Martin Blackwood regarding his love for Jonathon Sims, the Archivist. Statement begins.”
***
“Right” Simon said once Jon and Martin returned with their answer. “If we are doing this there are a few things we need to take care of. You ruined the sky, so I want to make sure that when you get sent back, you have some incentive not to ruin it again. So you are going to accept a blessing from the Falling Titan- and one from Mr Bone Man here, feels cheated by this whole thing. Just to ensure you keep up your end of the deal.” Simon gestured to Jared Hopsworth. Jon saw Martin open his mouth to protest.
“Fine.” Jon agreed before Martin could disagree. Now that his mind was made up he wanted to get this over with, and it wasn’t like it was really possibly for him to be any less marked by the entities. Martin shot Jon a glare.
“Perfect!” Simon said, clapping his hands together and leaning forward to pat Jon on the shoulder. It sent a shiver through his entire body but was rather underwhelming.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“For my part yes,” Simon said cheerfully stepping aside to allow Jared Hopsworth to approach. Jon shut his eyes to brace, and while he felt Jared’s massive hand cover his back, and felt a sharp jolt run though him, once again, it was drastically underwhelming.
“That- that wasn’t so bad.” Jon muttered.
“Might hurt later,” Jared grunted. And Jon decided not to think about that. He could feel on the edges of his mind that it would be very easy to Know, but he also knew he didn’t actually want that knowledge right now.
“Alright Archivist. Let’s send you back.” Annabelle said with a smile.
***
“So what does it mean?” Jon heard Georgie ask. He took a deep breath.
“Nothing good,” He wheezed, his voice horse from months of disuse. He heard Georgie and Basira exclaim in surprise. “Sorry,” Jon said with a bit of a laugh. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’ll get a nurse,” Georgie said.
“Wait,” Basira said grabbing her arm.
“Basira,” Georgie said in annoyance.
“Jon is it… still you?” she asked carefully.
“Yes and no,” Jon responded. “It’s… complicated,” He winced. This wasn’t going any better than it had the first time around. “You aren’t going to believe me no matter what I say though.” He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at a strange twinge in his back.
“Enough,” Georgie said. “Just- just stay still. I’m getting a nurse.”
“Alright Georgie,” Jon said knowing now there was no point in arguing. She left the room clearly shaken. Jon suspected that his friendship with her wasn’t going to be something he could rekindle in this timeline either.
“Right,” Basira said. “Do you need some water or something?”
“Tea would be nice if you don’t mind.” Jon said. He could feel Jonah’s eyes on him, but he also knew that outside of the Panopticon they were more evenly matched, but Jon’s body in the current timeline was malnourished and in no state to turn the gaze away.
“Right,” she said. Jon resisted the urge to ask for the statement in her bag. He had already read it. It likely wouldn’t do him any good. Besides, asking for it last time had just cemented Basira’s distrust in him. He had no idea how to make this play out in a way that would earn anyone’s trust, but flaunting his monstrous traits probably wasn’t going to help. Basira hesitated, looking off-balance, and Jon realized he hadn’t asked about what happened yet. To her perspective he didn’t even know he had been in a coma.
“The- the others, did-“
“No,” Basira said, almost with relief, as though not talking about it had been physically painful. “You’ve been in a coma for six months Jon.”
“I see,” Jon said, unsure of what the appropriate response was. Basira didn’t seem to know how to take this either and left to get the tea, not even mentioning the statement in her bag. Jon was glad. He wasn’t looking forward to being reliant on statements again. At least at the end of the world the ambient fear was more than enough to sustain him. Even if it did still require ‘ominous monologues’ as Martin called them. And Jon felt a stab of pain in his heart thinking of Martin. Sisyphus, he reminded himself. As soon as he got back to the institute.
Georgie returned with the nurse before Basira got back with the tea, and the conversation this time around was even more painful than the first one had been. But it didn’t feel as closed off as it had the first time. Georgie seemed less wary of Jon, maybe because the Nurse had said his vitals still weren’t great? And when she asked how he felt he answered honestly and told her his back ached something awful.
Apparently not being 100% fine after a six month coma put Georgie at ease. Jon tried not to be bothered by that. She didn’t stay long after that though, and by the time Basira came back in holding a paper cup of hospital cafeteria tea she had gone. Basira waited until he had a long drink to speak.
“Better?”
“Getting there,” Jon wheezed. His voice still wasn’t entirely returned and he suspected he really would need a statement before he would feel alright again.
“Right. I have questions.”
Jon nodded.
“What are you?” She asked.
Jon suppressed a wince. Even knowing it was coming, it was still hard to hear.
“A monster I suspect,” Jon said tiredly. This was clearly not the answer Basira expected. He supposed she expected him to deny it like he had the first time around. “I don’t- I don’t know exactly how to explain.“ He saw her eyes harden and he just knew if he gave her a chance to speak she would demand he try anyway. So he quickly pressed on. “But I will do my best.” What to say, how much information to give her? Was there anything he could say to get her to actually trust him? Or at the very least to limit the outright hostility?
“I am the Archivist,” he said. “I- I’m tied to the institute, to the role, the statements are- the Eye-“ Jon stopped and sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter. You don’t care what I am. You want to know if you can trust me and nothing I say to you will convince you that you can.” Jon winced as he felt his back twinge again.
“You’re right about that.” Basira said with a sigh.
“Oh!” Jon sat up more fully nearly spilling his tea. “Melanie- she, in her leg, there’s a bullet, it- it needs to come out, it’s- it’s a mark of the Slaughter,” Jon said, remembering his disastrous first meeting back with her.
“You gonna tell me how you know that?” Basira asked crossing her arms and staring at him with mistrust. Jon gave her a helpless look. “Right.”
“It needs to come out. The longer it’s in there the worse it’s going to be to get it out. She’s- she’s been angry a lot hasn’t she.” Jon made sure not to make it a question. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough right now to resist Compelling her.
“A lot has happened Jon.” Basira said flatly.
“Right, yes, yes of course, but-“
“I’ll talk to her,” Basira cut in.
“Would she- do you think she’ll- if you think that will work,” he finally settled on.
“Do you need anything else?” Basira asked and Jon shook his head. She didn’t say anything else as she turned to leave.
The next step would be to get in touch with Martin. Jon drew in a shaky breath. Then it was into the coffin. He had to get Daisy out. She deserved nothing less. Jon scratched at his back.