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UN: fuckthis

[Have an extremely exhausted sounding British man with more than a little edge of bitter sarcasm in his tone.]

Well, I suppose I should be grateful that it's not a goddamn tape recorder.

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[tim why are you like this ]

I’ve been here for quite some time, actually.

[seven months in cryo, several more on either side of that. more than a year now, for certain. but more importantly:]

I, erm … I don’t know. [he assumes so, however, and he knows it’s his fault.] Honestly, I’d be surprised to see any of you here. You’re the first person I’ve recognized since I arrived.

[and despite their problems, jon is undeniable glad to hear tim’s voice.]

You don’t remember what happened?

Obviously I don't know what happened. But given what Elias said it's not exactly a shock that I didn't make it out.

[And you know, how suicidal he was, but he's not saying that.]

How long is a long time?

[he doesn’t need to say it - jon knows. and tim would be unlikely to believe it, but jon can relate. 🙃]

At least a year. Probably more, I can’t be certain. I was, erm - I was unconscious for several months. Twice, actually - but we all were, this last time. No one really knows how long we were out. Could’ve been years, for all we know.

[he’s starting to ramble, because jon does that when he’s nervous, and he’s very nervous about being in the same space as tim again. the other man’s made his feelings about jon quite clear, but jon doesn’t feel the same at all. since he’s been traveling with navi and their passengers, jon’s had a lot of time to ruminate on what happened during the unknowing and just how badly he failed team archive. he inhales a deep breath to steady his nerves and refocus his words.]

Tim … what is the last thing you remember? Before you woke up here, I mean.

A year?! A whole ruddy year? And you don't know what happened? So our entire world could be like that fucking circus and you don't even know?

[There's definitely a part of Tim that feels a little broken by that, because while there's always been the possibility of failure (of a lot of things, honestly. Failure to save everyone, failure to get his revenge, failure about what Martin and Melanie were doing to get Elias and bring him down in a way that didn't kill the entire Institute... There were more ways for them to fail than there were for them to succeed.) he had always thought that at least they'd know. That someone would know. And now Jon's here with all his bullshit mindreading and everything else and he doesn't even know.

So he just hangs up with a sigh of disgust.]

[He's had some time and some drinks and I'm sure that's fine.]

The last thing I remember is being in my flat and recording that fucking statement before we were going to Great Yarmouth.

[jon knows tim well enough to know that chasing after him when he gets this angry will do neither of them any good. so he resolves to pick the conversation up with him later, after he’s had some time to cool off. he’s pleasantly surprised that tim messages him first, and speaking to him again much sooner than jon would’ve expected.]

You hadn’t gone to the museum yet, [he comments, mostly for his own solidification of timelines. jon exhales a quick sigh of relief.] That’s - that’s good.

[tim’s unlikely to agree with him but they don’t agree on much anyway these days.]

No, I hadn't gone to the museum yet. I'm assuming that you have then? Why do you not know what happened? How can you not know what happened? That doesn't make any sense.

[they’re good questions; jon would be asking them too, if he were in tim’s position. he would be desperate to know what happened, and frustrated beyond belief if there was no way to obtain that information.

there is, of course, a good reason why he doesn’t know for certain how the unknowing ended. and he really wishes tim hadn’t asked, because jon doesn’t want to reveal the answer. he doubts tim will take it well. jon sighs deeply.]

Because I died.

[There is no small part of Tim, the part that's been so angry and hateful towards Jon after everything that's happened that wants to be glad that this happened. Pleased that he'd died when Tim had. Pleased that Elias was just entirely that fucked in addition to being in jail because of what Martin and Melanie were up to.

But.

But.

He'd thought that he'd wanted Jon dead, but the reality of that actually happening? Well, it hits him far stronger that it expects it to. While it doesn't make all (or even most) of his anger go away, Tim doesn't think he wants him dead anymore. No, he doesn't want Jon dead anymore than he'd wanted Sasha to be dead, than he'd want Martin to be dead. It's not that he wants Melanie or Basira or Daisy dead, but at least they were warned about this when they'd signed on (Basira and Daisy at least, Melanie not so much and he'd even tried to warn her) but the four of them in those archives at the beginning... They hadn't known. It wasn't their fault. They'd been innocent and despite all of Jon's bullshit paranoia and stalking and everything else, he'd been innocent too.

Three of them dead now. At least three of them dead, depending on Elias. Christ, even if Martin had lived, Tim knows him and he knows that Martin loves Jon even if the wanker doesn't deserve that. What is he living with? What kind of life is that after everything else?

He's silent for a very long time before he asks a single question:]

How?

[How are you alive?]

[jon of course assumes tim’s asking how he died, so that’s the answer he provides.]

You, erm - you detonated the explosives.

[but that’s not enough of an answer and jon knows it. what’s more, tim deserves to hear this story - statement, perhaps? - from jon in person. it’s too personal to be given behind the shield of only his voice coming through the speaker of the handheld device.]

Tim, I’d really rather not talk about this on the comms … would you be willing to meet with me in the kitchen? There’s tea. [but better than tea:] And, erm - no tape recorders. I’ve checked.

Edited 2022-11-07 04:12 (UTC)

[Yeah, it's a reflex for him to be so snarky at first, and he's almost sorry about it. Almost.]

Why you worried about there being record of it? I thought that was your whole thing.

[A beat, but when he speaks again, there's a less hostile tone to his voice at least.]

I'm at what passes at a pub on this damned ship. You want to talk in person find me here.

[Because he's going to be getting wasted if he's trapped inside the Unknowing, even if it's filled with bloody bugs or snakes or glass or whatever.]

Because I know you hate them at least as much as you hate me.

[jon doesn’t snap back at tim - he just sounds tired. i don’t forgive you were some of tim’s last words to jon, and really, why would he? more than enough time had passed since the unknowing for jon to contemplate every single bad decision he’s made as Archivist, and even though he thought his actions justified at the time, he sees now more than ever just how much hurt he’d caused - tim especially. the man was right; they’d both been attacked by the hive, both suffered trauma at the hands (worms?) of jane prentiss, and rather than allowing that experience to bring them closer together, jon used it to create distance and distrust between them.

maybe they’re past the point where any mending can be done, but jon won’t know if he doesn’t try. he knows the exact place tim gives as his location, and a few minutes later, jon quietly slips through the door to the observatory-turned-piano bar. he tucks his hands into his trouser pockets and lightly clears his throat to announce his arrival.]

Hello, Tim.

[jon looks much like tim would remember, like he hasn’t slept in at least a week. his hair’s a bit longer and perhaps a little more disheveled but it’s clearly the same jon.]

It’s … erm, it’s good to see you again.

Edited 2022-11-09 00:40 (UTC)

[To be fair to Jon (as well as his lack of sleep of course) Tim doesn't look much better than his (former?) boss does at the moment. The lack of sleep is evident in the bags below his own eyes, and unlike back home, he's yet to find something that truly suits the 'fuck this job and everything in it' aesthetic. Also unlike back home, Tim is definitely sitting there working on a drink that's somewhere between his third and fifth as he's entirely lost count of how many he's had. At least it's still working like normal booze even if he is more than a little bit certain that he's still somehow trapped in the Unknowing because he's definitely sure that there's no way he could be anywhere else other than hell, and let's be honest: there's no way that any of them are actually going to hell considering the fears that are more real than any Christian mythology.

For a long moment, Tim just studies him, debating the sincerity of his statement. (Yes, he cringes at the use of the word!) Despite how he doesn't forgive him for what happened to him--but infinitely more important Tim doesn't forgive him for what happened to Sasha--he does remember how broken Jon was about what happened to her. It's something that he'd not been able to think about before when they were home but maybe there's something to say about the perspective that comes with being a dead man.

Or something.

In a way that's only partially mocking, Tim raises the drink in his hand like a toast.]

Boss. Can't really say the same, but then again I've not been in this madhouse for a year. Maybe check back then.

[But with that said, he does push out the chair next to him with his foot as an invitation of sorts.]

I didn't mean what happened to me. I could figure that out. I meant how did you live through me blowing up the waxworks?

[tim looks exactly like jon remembers, and a dull ache settles against jon’s heart. it would be so easy to pretend everything that happened at the wax museum, all of the unknowing, was something jon simply imagined - if not for the guilt. jon won’t let himself forget that tim died and it’s his fault, because he just isn’t very good at being The Archivist, and he couldn’t stop the unknowing without losing his own people as well.

he nods at tim’s greeting; it’s a lot more cordial than he’d expected. frankly, jon’s surprised tim agreed to meet with him at all, but he’s grateful for the chance. now if he can just avoid screwing it up …

jon hesitates for a moment before approaching to take a seat in the offered chair next to tim. he meant what he told murmur - he doesn’t think tim’s likely to assault him, but even if tim does, jon doubts the other man can do any permanent damage. one of the perks of being an avatar, jon supposes, though it hadn’t done him any favors back in new estos. slouched forward in the chair, elbows propped on his thighs and hands clasped tightly in front of him, he takes a deep, steadying breath and somberly begins his explanation:]

I didn’t. Not really, I - I think we stopped the Unknowing, but …

[jon shakes his head. he doesn’t Know for certain, and without seeing it with his own fully conscious eyes, he’s hesitant to claim victory - especially with how many of his people he’d lost.]

I must’ve been in hospital, I was wearing a hospital gown when I woke up here. And I remember … I wasn’t quite there, but I was still holding on. There wasn’t much left to me, but what was left wanted to stay. And there were voices …

[and an unending loop of nightmares, over and over, but tim doesn’t need to know that. it would sound self-pitying, jon thinks, and tim wouldn’t like that.]

I, erm - I don’t know if you’d remember, there was a statement a while back from an Antonio Blake, about these dreams he’d had, premonitions of death … he, erm - he came to visit me. His name’s actually Oliver Banks, and he’s - he’s an Avatar, like me, but for the End instead of the Eye. He said that I … I needed to make a choice, that I was, how did he put it - “not quite human enough to die, but still too human to survive.”

[jon shrugs lightly and sits back in his chair, deflated. he’s itching to know how tim’s taking this recollection of things that haven’t yet happened for him, but jon can’t quite bring himself to look up at the other man directly.]

So I made a choice. And the next thing that I remember was waking up here.

[and even though jon has been happier than ever before in the time since he regained consciousness, even though he has found incredible love and friendship and acceptance and trust during his time on this ship, he still can’t say with absolute certainty that he believes he made the right choice. he imagines tim is likely to agree with him on that point.]

[Tim doesn't quite like how familiar the way Jon sits feels, and he's reminded all too well of what had happened after the worms, and how the Archives had become nothing short of a clusterfuck between Jon's paranoia, Martin's enabling and the way that Sasha had stopped being Sasha. It's an old pain, that sense of loss but right now the thoughts weren't mourning for his lost memories of his best friend that that thing had taken and tainted but the way that it had pulled away too, causing Tim to think that she'd finally gotten tired of him and his antics after all those years. It's a sharpness that he'd thought he'd buried under the anger and hatred that he'd felt towards the Institute, but right now it's as acute as it had been during those days. Yes, Jon had been right to be paranoid, even if it was for all of the entirely wrong reasons, and it had hurt too considering how Jon had literally accused him of fucking murder.

The longer that Jon speaks, the straighter and straighter that he sits, until it's almost like he's been carved out of stone. Tim's grip on the glass tightens so painfully that his knuckles turn white and it's only concern about him literally shattering the it and sending the shards everywhere that forces him to let go of it. Despite how Jon doesn't think that he'd attack him, when his former boss admits what he's done, it's the closest that Tim's ever come to actually punching him. While he doesn't do that, it's definitely that he barely manages to hold onto himself that saves him. Well, at least physically, anyway. Instead, Tim's laughter is a cold fury that leeches into his voice when he speaks after a long moment,]

After everything else that happened, you fucking chose to become one of them? Like Elias? Like the thing that fucking killed Sasha? Like the thing that killed my brother? Like the things that have killed and fed on countless other people over the courses of the centuries? All those fucking statements that you've fucking read, all of the pain and hurt and terror that those avatars have caused and you still picked it because you didn't want to fucking die? You're a goddamn coward, Jonathan Sims. Even with Elias and the Institute trapping us, even if you don't know if Martin's plan worked you still decided to become just like him. Christ when you go home, you're probably going to be the new Elias, did you even think about that? The Eye needs an avatar there, and despite everything else you went along with it. All of the sacrifices that we've all made, they're just going to be for fucking nothing because even if we did stop the Unknowing which I'm not convinced of, you're still going to be there just keeping up the status quo.

[it hurts, hearing tim laugh like that, and each of his next words is a tiny dagger in jon’s heart, but he doesn’t shy away, because he knows that he deserves this pain. tim is right - jon is not a brave man, and for as much as he’s always known he should’ve been taken by that awful leitner book as a child, when truly presented with the opportunity to give in to oblivion, he’d turned away from it.

but the thing tim doesn’t know is that it wasn’t an easy choice to make. it wasn’t a snap decision - jon had balanced on the ledge between living as a monster and dying as a (more or less) human for months before oliver banks paid his visit and urged jon to make his choice. fear was a factor in his decision, of course, but it wasn’t the only component. the part that jon has a harder time reconciling is the fact that the eye wanted him, in a way that jon had never quite felt wanted before, and that was a hard feeling to let go so soon after being claimed. jon’s choice to live was selfish on a second level, and deep down, he knows this, and he hates himself for it.

tim’s wrong about a lot of things, too. jon won’t become like elias, he won’t take over the institute and keep running whatever schemes are in motion between the dread powers and humanity. he won’t continue to sacrifice people for his own benefit. jon knows he is a monster now, he knows he gave up his humanity in order to continue living, and the best thing he can do is remove himself from the equation - if not by death, then by distance.]

I’m not going back, [he says, finally glancing up at tim. does he sound as tired as he feels?] And when you get back, if it’s still before the Unknowing, you need to stay in London and let me go alone. If I was already too far gone from human to die completely in that explosion, there’s no sense in the rest of you dying as well. I know - I know you wanted revenge for your brother, but I - I can’t lose you again, Tim.

For a nerd you really don’t know much about time travel do you? If I blew up the Unknowing before you died and came here, and you remember me doing that then I don’t have the choice not to go back. But even if I did, there’s no way I’d ever stay home. That thing killed my brother and if Elias couldn’t keep me away from it, then there’s no way in hell you can.

[It’s not tim being a dick. It’s just a simple and honest truth. They took Danny, they took Sasha. He’s going to hurt them as much as he can before he dies. That’s it. That’s the facts.]

As for losing me, you should have thought about that before you accused me of being a murderer. That’s entirely on you. Christ.

[Tim scrubs his hand across his face before he speaks again and thanks to the bite he received he can’t lie. ]

Before that, I would have walked through a fucking fire for you, Jon. You, Sasha and Martin. I went into the belly of fucking the worms for you. And you thought I killed an old lady who I barely ever even fucking met. You thought I was a killer and Sasha wasn’t Sasha and you didn’t even warn us about her before you went swanning off into the tunnels again. I really wish I could fucking hate you for that.

[jon is not going to argue with tim about time travel in a multiverse. he walked in here resolved not to argue with tim at all, in fact - tim has the right to be angry with him, jon doesn’t deny that. he acted like a complete clown show, and he regrets it all.

but tim’s bullheaded insistence on dying rings too close to home for jon, and what he says about walking through fire for jon is more than jon can hold at the moment. the frustration and grief he’s lived with for the past year and change boil up and over into angry words as jon utters an exasperated groan, pulls himself to his feet, and begins to pace the floor erratically with his pent-up energy.]

God damn it, Tim, will you just for once listen to reason? I don’t want you to die! I didn’t want Sasha to die, either, and I know it’s my fault, I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t know it’d happened until it was too late. If there was some way that I could trade my life to get her back, don’t you think I would do it? That’s not a choice I’d have to think about for even a second.

[jon halts his pacing for a moment, rubbing his hand over his mouth in agitation.]

I don’t know what you want from me, Tim. I screwed up. I was on edge after the Hive’s attack, I was under the influence of that - that thing, and I - I made some bad calls, all right? But I can’t change what I did - I can’t change any of it, or I would. So what do you want from me?

[he throws up his hands and shakes his head.]

I mean - Christ, Tim, do you want to just kill me yourself? Would that make you feel better? [jon takes a measured step toward tim, arms outstretched in offering.] Go right ahead! There’s plenty of knives about - stab me, slit my throat, do your worst. It won’t work - if a mob of robots couldn’t get the job done, I very much doubt you could - and even if it did work, it wouldn’t matter. I’d be brought back, and you’d have a very angry angel to contend with.

[rant more or less over, jon drops his face into his hands with another strangled, wordless sound of vexation. he sighs deeply and pulls his head up again, outwardly calmer but no less inwardly upset.]

And what’s that supposed to mean, “you wish you could hate me for that”? Seems like you’ve got quite a list already of things to hate me for, why not just add one more to the pile?

BECAUSE I DON'T FUCKING HATE YOU AND I DON'T WANT YOU DEAD, ALRIGHT?

[Following that, Tim just stares at Jon entirely stunned, because that's definitely both not what he was going to say and not what he realized he'd thought. Well, have of it at least. He already knew from Jon's telling him that he died that Tim didn't want him dead, but he'd really thought that he hated him. Hating Jon is easier and less complicated than anything else given what happened, but that doesn't make it any less truthful.]

[jon expected yelling; that’s how these fights with tim have gone, traditionally. he expected anger, or being cursed at, or even violence. he’d just invited tim to attack him, after all, and maybe a good punching out would make both of them feel better.

so while jon expects the emotion and volume of tim’s words, he doesn’t expect what they actually say. it feels to jon like all of the air’s been sucked out of the room. deeply stunned, mouth left open for words that don’t materialize, jon unconsciously wraps his arms around himself. after what seems like an eternity, jon finally shakes himself from the daze and remembers how words work.]

You don’t …

[jon huffs a breath that isn’t even a whisper of a bitter laugh but wishes it were and blinks back the start of tears. jon can’t explain it even to himself, but this confession actually hurts more than being hated and wished dead. somewhere in the past few years, that became normal. instinctively, jon reverts to the harsh facade he’d created as armor to protect himself, and his next words take on a much sharper edge:]

Why not? [i do.] Is the club too crowded for you?

[an asshole thing to say, jon knows this before the words even leave his mouth, and the armor crumbles as quickly as it went up.]

Sorry, I’m sorry, I just - [jon rubs a hand over his mouth and shakes his head. with an almost despairing quality to his voice, he says:] I don’t understand.

[and no, he’s not going to “archivist” an explanation out of you, tim.]

Yeah. You’re not the only one.

[Tim doesn’t bother not trying to sound bitter when he says it because he is. All of this would be easier if he did hate Jon and he knows it. Unfortunately nothing about Timothy Stoker’s life has been easy since his brother Danny had died.]

Hating you is just too easy I guess. Or because I reckon Sasha and Danny wouldn’t want me too. Not for them.

[Which is more truth and he hates that. He basically hates everything on this fucking ship. ]

What about for yourself?

[it would be more than justified - jon had treated tim very badly, and he hadn’t really made any efforts to make amends for it. when confronted, he’d been defensive, made excuses for himself, and stubbornly refused to budge from his unfounded suspicions. at the very least, jon owes tim a long overdue apology. he sighs deeply and cautiously approaches the chair to slump down in it again.]

Tim, I - I know it doesn’t change anything and I know you don’t forgive me, I’m not asking you for that. But I am sorry I acted like such a - a paranoid lunatic.

[those were the words tim used during a fight, and he wasn’t wrong. jon did go off the deep end, and he couldn’t see it until he was already drowning.]

I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve been there for you, I - I should’ve done a lot of things differently. [he pauses for a moment, then adds, in a tone a half shade lighter:] Unfortunately, as you’ve already noted, I am quite useless when it comes to time travel.

[For a long time, too long probably given everything Tim doesn't say anything. Honestly, he doesn't know what to say. How could he have any fucking clue when literally everything about this entirely unprecedented? Back home, he never would have pictured that he and Jon would be able to talk about anything (well, if this actually counted as talking, he guesses, considering the amount of yelling involved) but Martin hadn't been wrong when he'd convinced Tim to make his statement about his brother and how it very likely would have ended up in a knock down drag out fight between himself and the archivist.

Picking up his drink and taking a long sip of it, Tim's throat works and his jaw is tight. He doesn't regret calling Jon that, because that's what he was being at the time, and there's no denying it. Yes, there may have been things that were intentionally going out and making his boss' paranoia worse, but that didn't mean that it had been right. They both know that, and the fact that Jon's apologizing--something that Tim didn't even think he knew how to do, never mind that he would--doesn't change it.

As far as they know there's no power that controls time travel and even if there was, Tim is pretty certain that it would only make things worse. God knows that the Powers don't need any help in things being fucking awful.

When he finally does speak, Tim just sighs:]

You're right. I don't forgive you.

[Tim doesn't know that's not news or that essentially, it was in a part of the monologue that were the last words of Timothy Stoker.]

And I don't know why I don't hate you. But I'm not going to kill you or try to hurt you.

[Then he laughs softly.]

But I probably do owe you if it means that I got to blow up the thing that killed Danny.

[time and distance have brought jon perspective. a year, who knows how many galaxies, a few deaths - all of these factors have shaped jon’s attitude toward his past behavior and tim’s (perfectly legitimate) complaints. he hadn’t apologized at the time because he hadn’t felt it was warranted; he knows now that it is.

tim’s reaction to the apology is better than jon allowed himself to hope for. all of jon’s bad behavior is much more recent for tim, and jon wouldn’t have been surprised if the other man had simply told him to fuck off. he’ll count this as a win - maybe not quite an arrival at equilibrium, but certainly closer than they had been before.]

You don’t owe me anything, [jon says, allowing himself a thin, grim shade of a smile.] But I do wish you’d reconsider the notion that you have to die in order to achieve justice for your brother.

[he won’t hammer on it now, it would only undo whatever sliver of progress seems to be made with tim. he’ll just have to think of a way to convince tim over time, maybe enlist navi’s help in getting tim back to a different point in time, whenever they arrive where such travel is possible. until then … well, he can offer his own perspective on dying. maybe an attempt at being less aggressively secretive will help his case. jon sits forward a bit in his chair and lightly clears his throat.]

Tim, when I said that you couldn’t kill me, I wasn’t posturing. That’s one of the ways I’m different now - you’d need to wield some kind of significant supernatural power. And from what I Know, you’ve been able to put up enough resistance to the Eye to keep anything like that at bay.

[jon isn’t going to bare his soul unprompted, but he’s willing to have an open discussion, if tim’s interested. and he’s left enough hints that he’s certain tim is smart and observant enough to pick up, if he wants to know more about why jon is so certain in his claim.]

I'm not going to reconsider it, Jon.

[Tim says the words entirely matter of factly, without any sort of pretense or apology for it. While he wouldn't have admitted it before, not unless someone had compelled him to do so, right now the little critters did the same thing without Jon needing to worry that Tim was going to hate him for it after. (Well, if he hated him after, so far Tim wasn't having all that much luck getting it to stick so far, but that might be the thing that pushed him over the edge into it.) But he also doesn't look at Jon when he says it, instead staring straight ahead as he takes another long sip of his drink before reaching out for another bottle and filling it up well above the line of what a proper sort of pour would be. Proper pours are right out the window and that's even before the conversation that the two men are having, and the two men that are currently having it.

Later, he'd probably think more about what Jon had said, read between the lines of his words--well, that's if Tim manages to stay sober enough to remember his words--but for right now, he's not doing it. Instead he's taking them at face value, considering that his former boss would know what he's talking about, given how much shit he randomly just Knows now. Hell, he probably should be glad or grateful that Jon never did the weird Knowing thing to him, even it definitely would have made him punch him in the face at the archives.]

I've been planning my vengeance since before I even worked in the archives, and it only got more honed when I was there.

[And then because he can't seem to find it in him to lie still, Tim just looks down at the drink, avoiding looking at him.]

And because I don't want to keep working for that thing that fucking owns the Institute, Jon. Sure, we stopped the world from being destroyed one way, and Gertrude Robinson had been doing it for years, but do you really think that every other Entity is going to try and destroy the world but the Eye won't? It's just a matter of time before it does.

[While Tim's voice is steel, it's not angry. It's just determined and matter of fact.]

And I would rather be dead then help that fucking happen.

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