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English
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Published:
2020-07-06
Updated:
2020-07-31
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1,836
Chapters:
2/3
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69
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I'm bleeding from my soul (again)

Summary:

The Archival team holds an intervention. It does not go well.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: The Intervention

Chapter Text

(Recorder clicks on.)
(There’s an air of quiet tension. People shifting around a small room.)
Basira: “Jon, I don’t know if this is the best idea. He’s made his position clear. Not to mention you said yourself you wanted to trust him. What’s changed?”
(Quiet thud as a solid object hits a desk. A mug?)
Jon: “I spoke with Peter Lukas.”
Basira: “…And?”
Jon: “And he’s a smarmy bastard. (Sigh.) I think he’s up to something, more than we first thought. More than the obvious, of course. Him and Elias have some sort of bet.”
(Quiet static fades out.)
Jon: “Oh. Yes. There was a bet about what Peter could convince Martin to do, I hadn’t realized.”
Basira: (Clipped.) “Jon.”
Jon: “Yes, I apparently just Know that now. There’s something going on and we need to get Martin away from it before he gets in too deep. There’s still hope for him.”
(A tense silence.)
Daisy: “Unlike you, Jon?”
Jon: (Snapping.) “Yes, unlike me. A heavy addiction to this place and the suffering of the people hurt by it is too deep for me to get out. But Martin isn’t there yet, trust me on that. And anyways, he’s coming back. We can ad nauseum this later.”
(Footsteps approach from behind the door, slow and tired. A creak.)
Martin: (Sighing.) “What’s all this then?”
Jon: (Urgent.) “Martin. We need to talk, there’s…”
Martin: “Jon, please don’t start. We’ve talked about this.”
Daisy: “I really don’t think we have, Martin. You’ve done your best to run us off, but I think your heart isn’t in it. That doesn’t matter anyways, we have new intel.”
Jon: “Martin, I think Peter has an ulterior motive, he…”
Martin: (Interrupting.) “New intel? (Scoffing.) This isn’t telly. You think I don’t know that working with these dark, corrupting forces isn’t a bad idea? Obviously it is! But I have my reasons, and honestly, it doesn’t involve any of you.”
Basira: “We all get mixed in whenever any one of us interacts with these powers, Martin. He may be isolating you, but he’s also vanished people here. We need him out. Permanently.”
Martin: (Sighing again, reigning in his earlier anger.) “Peter is gone. He only very rarely visits me, and I’m the one taking care of the daily running of the Institute. Or hadn’t you noticed that no one has vanished in months? It’s honestly too chummy here for Peter. (Quietly.) I’m starting to think it’s too chummy here for me.”
(A creak of the door, Martin’s footsteps leaving.)
Jon: (Urgent and slightly panicked.) “Martin, wait.”
Martin: (Impatient.) “What, Jon? I really don’t have time for this.”
Jon: “What if I could show you there was a reason to stay?”
Daisy: (Quietly.) “Jon.”
Basira: “I think we have our answer, Jon.”
Jon: “No, give me a chance. Martin, we need you here. There’s so much darkness and danger, we already lost so many of our team. Don’t make me lose you too. (A static begins to build.) I know it’s easier to isolate yourself and distrust that the people you should be able to rely on won’t be there when you need them. I know it’s easier to take that power away from them, but please. Give us a chance. Your life has been lonely…”
Martin: (Tensing.) “Jon, stop.”
Jon: “No. I know that a lot of people have let you down, and you feel like it’s your lot in life to be left behind, to watch others walk away. (The static increases in urgency.) And I know that I have often been the one to make you feel that way. Especially after the Unknowing, with almost everyone gone, and your mother dying. But we...”
(There’s a sound of a single footstep, a light rustle of fabric, and the static crescendos, quickly followed by a cracking tear of a vacuum ripping the air out of the room.)
(Then silence.)
(Very quickly the silence becomes general uproar. Many voices speak at once.)
Daisy: “Jon? Jon!”
Basira: “Where did he go?! Martin? Did you do that?”
Martin: (Confused.) “Wait, no… I can’t do that. Jon?”
Daisy: (A hint of growl entering her throat.) “What did you do with him, Martin?”
Martin: (Apathy gone.) “No! No, I can’t do that. Where did he… How did I… Jon!”
Daisy: (The growl is no longer hinted at.) “You’ll bring him back right now, boy.”
Basira: (Alarmed.) “Daisy, stop! Step away from this right now. Martin and I will talk about this. Go stand outside until you get this under control. If he sent him away we need him to bring Jon back. Go breathe.”
Daisy: (Panting and shaky, but beginning to regain control.) “Yes, yes ok. (A pause.) You watch him, Basira. Don’t let him get away.”
Basira: “I won’t. He’s going to answer some questions for me.”
(Footsteps and the door closes.)
Basira: “Now. Where did Jon go?”
Martin: (The beginnings of a panic entering his voice.) "He's... he's gone. I think the way Peter sent those researches away. But that's Peter. That's not something that I'm ever supposed to be able to do!?"
(Martin is openly panicking now.)
Basira: "Ok, calm down. We'll figure this out. I'm going to check on Daisy and you are going to sit here while I do that. I want you to think very hard about how this works and how we can get him back, alright?"
Martin: "Yes... yes alright. I can do that."
(Door opens and closes again. There's a sound of a body making a boneless impact with a chair. Martin sighs heavily.)
Martin: "This... this wasn't supposed to happen."
(More silence.)
Martin: "Wait, hang on!"
(Scraping noise of plastic on wood.)
(Recording clicks off.)

Chapter 2: The Return

Summary:

So I discovered Jon sighs a lot and spent entirely too long trying to figure out what accent Daisy has. I'm American, sue me.

Chapter Text

(Recording clicks on.)
(The ambient energy of an argument gone on too long.)
Martin: (Almost yelling.) “...well I'm sorry! I certainly didn't know that if I touched his shoulder he'd poof off into the pale blue nothing!”
Daisy: “Intentions don't change what actually happened. Get. Him. Back.”
Martin: “I'm working on it! If you would give me a moment to just think! There's a lot going on right now and it's really hard to really focus.”
Basira: “Daisy. Martin. Something's happening.”
Dasiy: “What is it now?”
Basira: “The tape recorder is back. Those are his right? Maybe it'll help. I don't want to reach out to Elias for this, and I can't image Peter will be of any practical use.”
Martin: (Frantic.) “What do you want me to do? Make a statement? Oh, yeah sure. Statement of Martin Blackwood, regarding the lonely murder of his boss! Recorded in situ. Great, Basira, that's really helpful!”
(Static begins to form again, slowly then getting loud enough the recorder makes an audible, pained wheeze.)
Daisy: “Why is it doing that?”
Martin: “Oh my god, Jon? Please come back? I don't know if the recorder can talk to you but...”
(Static builds and a sharp sudden wind fills the room, followed quickly by pained coughing.)
(A general ruckus. Many voices overlap.)
Martin: “Jon, oh my god, I'm so sorry!”
Basira: “Ok, let's get him down. On the armchair. Daisy, help me.”
Daisy: “Breathe, Jon. Let's get you settled.”
Jon: (Coughing.) “It... it worked? I'm out?” (He begins laughing before the coughing puts a stop to it.)
Daisy: “Look at me. What's hurt? You're shaking.”
Jon: “C-cold. And it's hard... it's hard to breathe.”
Daisy: “Martin, go grab one of those blankets out of Artifact Storage. One of the heavy moving ones. (A pause.) Go now.”
Martin: “Yes, yes of course.”
(Footsteps and the sound of a door.)
Basira: (Brisk.) “How did you get out? And, oh, your hands. They look...”
Jon: (Still panting and cold.) “Yes, st-start of frostbite. There w-was nowhere to... well th-there was nothing at all. Tundra, I th-think?”
(A noise of rustling and settling.)
Jon: “Thank you, Daisy.”
Daisy: (With a slight huff.) “Don't worry about it.”
Basira: “So you just what, Knew how to get back?”
Jon: “He didn't kn-know what he was doing. Didn't slam the door be-behind him. Followed back where I came through.”
Basira: (Serious.) “Jon, you know him better than me. Do we need to...”
Jon: (Interrupting.) “No. H-he didn't do it on purpose, Basira. I'm sure Peter would have m-made it much h-harder to get back through.”
Basira: “If you're sure. We will handle him if we need to.”
Jon: (Stronger.) “It's n-not n-necessary. I-it was him that I followed back through, anyways. He was quite the b-beacon.”
Daisy: (Murmuring.) “Is that so?”
Jon: (More agitated now.) “I'm sure I d-don't know what you're implying, Daisy. I-if you have something to say then...”
Daisy: “Then what? Shall I get up and say it to your face?”
Jon: “...no. S-stay. You're warm.”
Daisy: (Smug.) “All right then, I will.”
(The door creaks back open.)
Martin: “Hi. I... (Surprised again.) Oh! I, um, I brought a couple blankets, and erm, I started some water for tea, you know it's probably best to get something warm in you.”
Daisy: (Languid.) “You definitely should, Martin.”
(Various flustered Martin noises.)
Martin: “Um, here, you should put this on, put this around you, um. Here, Basira. (A rustle.) I'llgoseeaboutthattea.”
(Quick footsteps and the door closes.)
Jon: (Dry, but still drained.) “Was that quite necessary?”
Daisy: “What? He's not Mr. Lonely right now. You notice he comes out of it when he's fixing someone, and when he's flustered. I think it's quite in our benefit to tease a little. (An audible grin and a hint of her accent curling into the smile.) Maybe you should try it, Jon.”
Jon: “I'll t-take that under consideration.”
Basira: “All right, give me your hands, Jon. Daisy, shift. You weren't out there long, why do you have frostbite, Jon?”
Jon: “Oh, I don't think time works quite the same there, quite like the um, the circus, when they had me. Also, it was very cold. Similar to, ah, ow ow ow, um similar to polar regions? I think?”
Basira: (Under her breath.) “Steady. (A moment passes.) There, where else?”
Jon: “Oh, my nose quite hurts, but I think my hair kept my ears protected. And, well, the loafers did surprisingly ok at keeping my feet warm.”
Daisy: “Thank god for old man shoes.”
Jon: “They're practical!”
Basira: “Let me see your nose. (Humming.) It looks fine. Do you know how to take care of frostbite?”
Jon: (Incredulous.) “No?? (Static.) Or, wait, yes. I guess I do.”
Daisy: “Convenient.”
Jon: “Well.”
Daisy: “Yes, yes. Care and keeping of the precious archivist. Do you need a statement, Jon?”
Jon: (Sighing.) “Yes. Well, no. I need to make one.”
Basira: “And that works?”
Jon: “Unfortunately. Give me a moment, and possibly some tea, if Martin comes back. Then yes, I think that would be best. Fresher than anything we have on hand, at least.”
Basira: “...right. (Movement.) I'll go rouse Martin, you warm up. Don't mess with the bindings.”
Jon: “I won't, thank you.”
(The door slips shut.)
(Recording clicks off.)

Notes:

First Magnus Archive fic, and I'm pumped as hell. I'm trying this thing where I'm terrible at dialog so I'm making myself write that format. Treat me gently.