Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the oddest sound, Tim would later reflect. The initial thump wasn’t so irregular, though why it sounded like a body had fallen in Document Storage when the other three people down here were accounted for at their respective desks when Tim had left was beyond him. No, the truly “spooky” part of the sound was the following clatter of what sounded like hundreds of plastic things falling from a great height. Now, if Tim had heard this sound even a week later he might have recognized it as a great many cassette tapes cascading to the ground. However, he had only just found a tape recorder the week before and handed it off to Jon for safe keeping. He had not yet learned to associate Jon with tapes, as he would have in another time.

As it stood, Tim was instantly put on edge by the series of sounds, but tried to rationalise it as perhaps Jon sneaking back to Doc Storage for more work and managed to upset a box of something after he tripped on something else. Or maybe Martin. Martin, as much as Tim wanted to be optimistic about the guy, definitely seemed the type to pull something like that by accident. But the part of Tim that still writhed in anger and fear at plastic mannequins who peeled skin simply screamed that he was in danger, something had gotten into the Institute and he wasn’t safe. Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, Tim looked around for something sturdy and noticed the fire extinguisher attached to the wall near the Document Storage door. A short detour later saw Tim gently opening the door to Document Storage and brandishing the fire extinguisher as a precaution. However he immediately froze at the sight that greeted him.

There, lying prone and covered in a myriad of labelled cassette tapes, was a man who looked suspiciously like Jonathan Sims. Which wasn’t possible because Jonathan Sims had been in his office working on digitising statements as Tim had left. And Jon did not have that many scars, if any at all. Tim’s first thought was, “Oh god, the Circus,” which was quickly followed by the obvious realisation that that made no sense. There was no point that the Circus could have kidnapped Jon, and even if there had been it certainly hadn’t been long enough to have done this much damage without them just deciding to remove his skin. After all that’s what they did, and dragging it out to the extent that Tim could see in front of himself wasn’t their usual MO.

The next thought that flashed through Tim’s head was, ‘fuck, is that blood?’ Because upon a closer look, there was a suspiciously growing stain on the man’s chest along with a tear in the fabric of his shirt above it. In a moment of further hesitation, Tim decided that whether or not this was Jon or some horrifying mimic of him, it still looked more human than anything the Circus could ever cook up and that made him human enough to need help. With a clang, Tim dropped the fire extinguisher and ran over to ‘Jon’s’ side to see what he could do.

Tim quickly determined that the man who looked like Jon was definitely worse off than he could actually help with, and with only some small difficulty managed to lift the man’s deadweight up into a bridal carry. Then, as carefully as could be managed, Tim rushed back to the bullpen.

-

Jon’s day had been going fairly normally. He was still quite tired from a few days before after he had recorded that statement to tape that hadn’t recorded to his computer. Unfortunately the lack of energy made it basically impossible to focus on being both polite to his assistants and do his job well. Of course, he had vented some of his frustrations about the ever present thorn in his side that went by Martin to a tape already. But he had decided that he could at least keep his terrible mood locked up in his office till he started to feel better. No one had bothered him thus far, other than a short interruption by Tim handing in a report, so he had relatively high hopes for a quiet day. However, his carefully cultivated calm was suddenly shattered by a clamour outside of his door. Before he could react, it suddenly got slammed open by Sasha. 

“Tim needs an ambulance, Martin’s calling one now, and I’m here to let you know about it.” Jon blinked in bewilderment, before he shot to his feet and began making his way to the door.

“What happened? Is Tim doing ok in the meantime?” asked Jon as he approached, worry for one of only 3 people he would be willing to call a friend rising up in a tidal wave.

“Well…” Sasha paused, backing out of the door as Jon stepped beside her. “It’s more like Tim wanted it called for someone else, and none of us are quite sure who it is.”

“What on earth do you mean?” asked Jon frustration beginning to infiltrate the worry. However, as he stepped through the door into the bullpen and saw Tim stuffing ripped clothing onto the chest of a man who Jon didn’t want to acknowledge the face of. All he could say was, “... Good Lord.” He could feels his hands begin to shake as he stood locked in quiet indecision.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” replied Sasha, herself a paragon of quietude. Jon felt an irrational flash of ineptitude go through him at seeing how much better Sasha was handling the situation, not a single visible sign of what she might be feeling about things. He then silently scolded himself, telling himself it was not the time to have a breakdown, before asking Sasha if the paramedics had been called yet.

What happened next was a blur of activity and barely restrained panic. If Jon had to give any detail about it later, he probably would have stated that the Archival staff did what they could to keep the body on the floor from dying before the paramedics arrived. However, he would probably only remember in detail afterwards that the stranger had to be brought up out of the Archives by Martin because the paramedics refused to walk through the front doors of the Institute and Martin was the only one of the 4 of them who actually (apparently) knew how to move unconscious adults without potentially injuring them worse. (Martin was a man full of surprises, and Jon was split between trying to not see how impressive he was in that moment and fighting off the blush he could feel fighting for a place on his face. The look Sasha gave him after the stranger had been sent to the hospital and they had returned to the Archives spoke to his failure on the last goal.)

Jon thanked his lucky stars that the paramedics didn’t ask any questions and had immediately moved the stranger into their truck. Tim had cornered one, presumably to find out which hospital they were taking the familiar stranger to, before they finally departed, leaving the Archival staff and a small crowd of bystanders from the Institute and local businesses to stand about and begin spinning the tale into gossip. Gossip, Jon knew, that would haunt his every step the rest of this week when he passed through the front lobby every morning on his way to the Archives.

Jon quickly snapped at his assistants that they still had work to do and headed back inside as he didn’t want to think about this in public (or ever really). The other 3 trailed behind, glancing between themselves and him, before glancing over their shoulders to where the paramedics had been; Martin in particular seemed concerned about the state of the stranger.

Once they were back in the Archives, Tim called out, “Hey Jon! I know you want to disappear, but I have something else I need you to see.”

Jon turned and glared, before taking a large breath to let out his heaviest sigh. “Right, excellent,” he grumbled. “Alright Tim, what else do you need to show me?” Jon knew that if Tim was discarding the ‘boss’ moniker, he was being serious.

Tim began moving towards Document Storage. “Just this way. Honestly, I’m hoping you still have that tape recorder I handed off to you last week, as we’ll probably need it.”

“Tim, can you not be cryptic just this once?” Jon asked as Sasha and Martin followed behind him as they all made their way to Document Storage. The other two assistants were seemingly just as confused as Jon was, so whatever it was Tim was trying to show them he obviously hadn't told the others about it yet either.

“Trust me boss, you’ll want to see this,” repeated Tim as they arrived at the door to the storage room. It had been left open in the chaos from earlier, and it was easy to see the pile of cassette tapes lumped haphazardly near the blood stains. It truly did look like both the stranger and the tapes had just appeared in the air and been dropped onto the floor as gravity did its thing. Nothing else seemed to have been touched, as it was a straight shot from the blood stains to the door, so when Tim had rushed in, there hadn’t been any boxes or other miscellanea in the way like there was at the periphery of the room.

“Tim this had better not be your idea of a practical joke.” However, Jon stopped in the doorway and stared in silence at the mysterious pile of tapes. After a moment, he seemed to collect himself enough to add, “I still hope this is not your idea of a joke.” “But!” he added as he saw the hurt flash across his friend’s face, “I don’t think it is, and I hope that this might answer our questions about the stranger we’ve sent off to the hospital.”

Tim nodded. "Sure hope so boss! 'Cause otherwise I'm worried these are double boss's sex tapes."

If looks could kill Tim would be 6 feet under. "Tim for the sake of everyone's sanity, you will refrain from ever making that joke again."

"Aw, come on boss. You can't tell me you would be even a little curious if they were double boss's sex tapes."

Jon gave his most unimpressed look. "Tim, we both know Elias has never had a lover in his life."

Tim snorted, before falling into his usual chuckle. Behind Jon, Sasha cracked up at his attempt at wit and he was suddenly reminded that Sasha and Martin were still waiting to enter the room.

After a moment to collect himself (and let the others get the giggles out of their systems), he stepped further into the room to allow the others in at last. Sasha and Martin both blanched at the sight of the bloodstain on the floor, though Sasha recovered faster as her insatiable curiosity kicked in.

"Now boys, I have it on good authority from Rosie that Elias has had at least one husband in the past two years." Sasha added, stepping forwards to get closer to the mess on the floor. Tim gasped dramatically while Jon felt vaguely blindsided. It felt odd that the most surprising thing thus far today was learning his boss was married. He knew that Elias was no prude, and shouldn't be so surprised that he was in that kind of long term relationship; but the man has always seemed the kind of man to be more interested in the Institute than a long term relationship.

Jon cleared his throat. "Be that as it may, we have far more important things to concern ourselves with than this topic." Jon looked to Sasha and Tim. "Ms. James, Mr. Stoker, what have you both found thus far?"

Tim rolled his eyes at the overly formal address, and Sasha continued to examine the pile of cassettes. "Well boss, we have a lot of cassette tapes with labels, and a fresh bloodstain."

Jon sighed. " Yes Tim, I do have eyes. Was there anything else that mysteriously appeared with the stranger?"

Tim gave the surrounding area a cursory glance, and then shrugged. "Doesn't look like it, boss."

Jon felt a headache approaching. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose to maybe hold it off. "Fine. Excellent. Why don't you two start sorting then and I'll go find that tape recorder."

"U-um, and what should I do?" Asked Martin. Jon blinked in surprise, having completely forgotten about Martin.

"You stay here and help Tim and Sasha with their sorting." 'It will keep you out of trouble,' was left unsaid, but the message was received anyways as Jon strode with purpose out of the room, completely ignoring anything else around him.

The assistants stared after him, and Martin asked after a few moments of silence, "Is he always like this?"

Tim solemnly nodded his head while Sasha said, "Oh, you have no idea."

And with that they got to work.

Chapter Text

Jon hurried off to find the tape recorder he knew would be somewhere in his office. He wanted to get back as quickly as possible, as while he at least trusted Sasha to figure out a way to organise the tapes in a way that made logical sense, and he trusted Tim to know what he was doing, he would really rather not leave Martin to his own devices without his personal supervision. He expected that finding the tape recorder would be quick and he could get back fast enough to help with their endeavours. For however fast Sasha was, who even knew how they were labelled, so he figured it would take far more time for them to sort the tapes than he would take to get the tape recorder. Imagine his chagrin when he came back to two of his assistants sorting the tapes while the third had gone off to find an unused box they could use to store them in.

“What do you mean they are already labelled in listening order?”

Sasha spares him a single glance before diving back into the fray with the empty box she had just brought in. “Just what Tim said,” she replied, picking up the first tape in the nearest pile and placing it into the box with only a quick glance at the label. “They all appear to be labelled with a three digit code that implies a desired listening or recording order ranging from 001 to the highest we've found thus far, 200. So I figured, barring listening to them randomly right this very moment to find out their individual contents, the provided labels would be perfect for organising them till we had the time to properly give them a listen.”

Jon did not know what he felt about this, but he was already quite done with the day and it wasn’t even lunch yet. So with a frustrated sigh, he sat down beside the quickly dwindling pile of tapes and began helping his assistants with their project since he certainly couldn’t argue with Sasha’s sorting choice. He couldn't help himself as he added, "fine, that will work for now. However I reserve the right to recategorize them once we've begun listening to them." He could feel the collective eye roll from his assistants, but was secretly rather thankful they didn't decide to follow up with their own comments.

With that, the four of them worked in relatively awkward silence as they sped through the tapes. In what felt like an eternity that encompassed less than half an hour, the tapes were sorted and safely placed in the box Sasha had commandeered from somewhere else in the Archives. Then, somewhat predictably at this point, they stared at each other as they waited to see who would speak first. Jon, of course realising after a moment that it was still his job to direct his assistants, cleared his throat and tried to don his more professional facade.

"Acceptable work you three. We still have our work from this morning to complete before we leave the office, so I recommend we go back to doing our jobs for the rest of today."

His three assistants did not look pleased with this order. 

"Let me guess, you're going to hole up in your office with the tapes while you "work"?" asked Tim, his upbeat tone tinged with something knowing. Jon could practically hear the finger quotes.

"No, I was actually going to leave them for tomorrow, because as you so aptly pointed out, I do actually have a significant amount of work I need to finish before the end of today." Jon shot back, tone far more dry than usual.

"You can't just ignore this Jon! We have a huge gold mine of answers about what happened this morning, and you want to risk letting them out of your sight so you can focus on paperwork??" exclaimed Sasha, seemingly more put out over the thought that they would put off knowing something than the actual event that led to that knowledge dropping into their laps.

"Fine. Fine! We will listen to a tape just to find out what we're dealing with and then we are going back to work. There are probably hundreds of hours of audio to have to sort through on these and we wouldn't be able to get through all of it today even if we wanted to." Jon took a moment to locate the tape recorder he had brought with him, and leaned over the box to find a tape. Despite his attitude towards them, he carefully looked through the sorted box and pulled out the tape that was labelled with '001' and slid it into the tape recorder. After a moment of hesitation, he pressed play.

Jon wasn't sure what he was expecting. Maybe some of Gertrude's old tapes, or mixtapes that someone had labelled for only themselves. (The part of him that felt Watched worried that he would hear himself, that these were tapes of his private moments and conversations.) But what he wasn't expecting was the tape he had just finished recording on Friday. The opening was the same, the statement was the same, even the follow up comments were the same! The cadence, tone, and voice were all his. It wasn't possible. He had immediately put the tape into its file after he was done on Friday, and it was still sitting in the correct pile on his desk. It hadn't been moved, he had been at the office so much that he knew when his assistants had been through so he knew they hadn't had the chance to touch it. No one else came down to the Archives unless they were there for a statement, and they had only had one person come down since they had started the previous Monday. But if no one had had the chance to steal the tape and either make a copy or relabel it, how was he listening to that tape right this very moment? It wasn't possible, it couldn't be! Even if this could be some kind of practical joke by Tim or Sasha, it was physically impossible for them to have done so.

Eventually, the tape ended, and Jon was left sitting in Document Storage terrified by the implications of the situation he now found himself in. His assistants also seemed to be in various states of confusion and shock, which almost helped him feel a little better.

“Say, wasn’t that the statement you recorded on Friday?” asked Sasha, nervously glancing over at the pale and puckered face of her boss.

“Y-yes, well…” he muttered, before getting up and rushing over to the newly made ‘To Be Filed (Completed)’ pile. He then picked up the sole file in the tray, and slid the cassette tape out to check and see if someone hadn’t tried to pull a prank on him. However, the tape was there and fell gently into his hand, white label and black ink looking crisp after having been made only a few days previously. Jon then brought over the tape and ejected the current one to compare and noticed that not only did the recently ejected tape look like it was several years older than the one he had brought over, but that the labels were different. 

Of course the labels were different, as every tape that had been found on the floor beside the Jon shaped thing were labelled with that damn listening order. Versus their original tape which was labelled with the date of the original statement (in this case #0122204) and filed with the accompanying transcript. But Jon was terrified of what this meant, and decided the only way to prove the point was to find another tape player. He looked at Tim and asked, “Tim, were there any other tape players where you found this one?”

Tim looked thoughtful a moment before he shrugged and said, “only one way to find out”. With that, he got up and headed toward the storage closet where he originally found the first tape recorder. Martin also got up and muttered something about seeing if there was anything just lying around the Archives which left Sasha and Jon staring at the two tapes in Jon’s hands. 

“What will you do when they’re the same?” asked Sasha once Tim was out of the room and Martin had moved closer to the desks of the other assistants.

Jon remained silent for a few moments, but just when Sasha considered asking something else he spoke up. “They won’t be. There will be some small discrepancy I’m sure and this will be some elaborate hoax.”

Sasha gave him the disparaging look that deserved. “Fine, but if they are hypothetically the same, what will you do?”

“Listen to the rest of the tapes I presume,” he replied, pallor finally receding to something closer to his normal skin tone. “We will have to make our plans from there.” And suddenly it was just two Researchers sitting together after hours looking at a case that was too impossible not to be true, but both too stubborn to admit to its veracity due to its implications.

They sat in silence a moment longer, before Tim suddenly appeared and called out, “Sorry boss, didn’t find anything! Seems we’re fresh out of tape recorders other than the one we already have.” 

“Fine, we will just have to compare these two tapes later.”

“Wait, where’s Martin?” asked Tim, looking around.

Before Jon had the chance to snap about the thorn in his side, Martin called out from Jon’s office. “I’m in here! I actually found a tape recorder just sitting here already recording?” As he said this, Martin walked out of the office and back to Document Storage, holding aloft his prize which did appear to be another tape recorder. “It was so odd, it was just sitting on Jon’s desk already recording with a tape inside and when I tried to turn it off it just started recording again.”

With that, Martin set the recorder on the desktop beside the other empty tape recorder. Indeed, the record button was depressed and the tape inside was letting out a faint whir. With a deadpan stare, Jon glared at Martin as he deliberately reached forward and pressed the stop button and the tape clicked off. They all waited with baited breath to see if anything would happen, but seemingly against Martin’s expectations the recorder stayed off.

“It would seem that the recorder is acting as expected. I think it would be best if you leave the recorders to me for the moment Martin.”

Martin blushed hard in embarrassment, shame and anger as he muttered a quiet “Yes Jon” and sidled closer to where Tim was standing.

Ignoring the looks his other two assistants were giving him, Jon turned his attention to the tape recorders and ejected the tape from the new one. He set it aside and then inserted both the 001 tape and the tape from Friday into each recorder and set his fingers on their respective play buttons. “Right, the moment of truth I suppose.” With no more fanfare, Jon pressed the two play buttons simultaneously.

Within a breathless moment Jon’s voice echoed out of both recorders, layered atop itself as only a perfectly synced copy of a recording when played out of two devices can be. Jon stared in horrified silence as word for word the tapes synced up, his own voice condemning him to a fate he did not understand. The others looked on, Martin still flustered though beginning to shoot Jon concerned looks, Tim with a deeply furrowed brow Jon could only attribute to worry, and Sasha with unmitigated curiosity and a hint of concern. This continued till finally the tapes ended with a synchronised click, and the blanket of silence settled deeply over them.

With a breathless sounding cough, Jon broke the silence with, “w-well if this is a joke it’s certainly in poor taste.”

“W-wha?” sputtered Tim while Sasha and Martin made their own aghast noises. “Boss, you can’t be serious right now!”

“Oh come on, Jon!” exclaimed Sasha.

“Seriously?!” cried Martin, throwing his hands up. 

“Fine! Fine. Let’s just. Listen to the next tape.” Before any of the assistants could try to push the issue Jon had reached over to the box they had organised all the “spooky tapes” into and pulled out the one labelled with a 002. “And we’ll just find out the long way what these tapes are. Our work can wait till after lunch, and there is still another hour till then.” Without looking at anyone else, Jon replaced the 001 tape with the 002 in the original tape recorder and, pushing aside the sudden desire to sleep, pressed play.

There was a large part of Jon that was expecting the next tape to be some silly quip by Tim, explaining how bamboozled Jon must be feeling for finally believing the supernatural; or that it would be Sasha’s voice joking about something mundane from their days in Research; or even more remotely and silliest of all, it would be Elias Bouchard’s voice explaining that all Archivists had to deal with a certain amount of hazing and depending on how he had handled the first tape it would reflect on whether he could keep the job or not. But the rest of him, terrified and fearful and still in front of Mr. Spider’s Door, Knew without a shadow of a doubt that his voice would come out of the next tape, reciting a statement that he hadn’t recorded yet.

So when, in fact, his voice did come out of the tape player talking about a man who had a run-in with a haunted coffin (a statement that was sitting in his office waiting at the top of the “unable to record digitally” pile awaiting his return to strength), Jon was both terrified and resigned to whatever his life was becoming now. He, of course, could keep trying to deny that this was real, but was instead an incredibly elaborate office prank, or that his strange doppelganger had recorded all of these as a ploy to what? Convince them that Jon was irredeemable or something? His other choice, and really the only option his coworkers seemed convinced of, was that all these tapes were real, and that they were all recorded by the scarred and near death version of himself lying in a hospital bed half-way across London. Which in a sane world, made absolutely no sense! But in a world of giant, man eating spiders… could be very possible. 

But the worst part of the whole experience was that he could feel the echoes of fear from Mr. Gillespie’s statement as he woke up with a key in his hand standing in front of the coffin or listened from another room as someone else was fed to the singing box.

Jon was also unsurprised at hearing his scepticism over the man’s statement, though of course his theatre kid was showing by the end with his little factoid about how the building had remained practically empty the entire two years the man had kept the coffin. With a click, the recording ended and as one his assistants turned to see his reaction. Jon hoped that none of the residual fear from the statement or his personal musings was showing on his face, and that it was instead a composed mask leaning towards mild irritation. He had a feeling he was failing terribly. It didn’t help that all of his energy suddenly fled him the moment the tape concluded, and he could feel the bone deep ache for a bed that he had felt on Friday creeping into his limbs and climbing in behind his eyes.

The silence stretched between the four of them, and Jon squirmed a bit before moving towards the box to get the next tape. “Shouldn’t we discuss what we just heard?” asked Martin hesitantly, looking at the other three in askance.

“What would you recommend we discuss?” asked Jon, too tired to inject the venom into the statement that he wants. “It sounds like whatever implausible version of myself that recorded this summarised things rather well, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Well yeah, but…” Martin trailed off and mumbled something under his breath that Jon refused to register.

“No no, Martin’s on to something,” added Sasha. “Obviously something out there re-labelled these tapes, as we saw with the first one matching completely with the tape you finished yesterday. Whatever re-labelled them also seems to have an order they want us to listen to them in. Presumably there’s some kind of narrative it wants to concoct for us through these tapes. So! We should probably pay close attention to recurring themes, people, and patterns.”

Tim and Martin nodded along, and Jon looked resigned but open to the idea. “It could also be that these are just every statement I recorded to tape before whatever happened to throw my unknown twin into Document Storage,” he countered, just to be contrary. He had an image to maintain, and so help him if he didn’t maintain it till it crumpled like rain-soaked cardboard.

“If they are, wouldn’t that mean it’s even more important to focus on recurring people and patterns? If these statements are the same ones we have, then wouldn’t it make sense that whatever brought…” Sasha paused, as if she wasn’t sure what to call the other Jon without incidentally bothering Jon. “... brought Sims into our world could also happen here?”

“Hate to side with the boss on this one, but if we’re dealing with alternate realities, then we can’t assume anything about it other than what we catch on tape. The only person who would be able to tell us anything about the similarities would be the same guy in the hospital.”

Sasha pouted at Tim. “Well, can we at least make a temporary assumption that if the statements match and the personalities match we can extrapolate that our realities match closely enough that we can apply the knowledge learned from these tapes to our lives?”

Tim sighed dramatically, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. “I suppose we could extrapolate that, sure.”

“So I guess we learned that there’s a coffin that eats people?” asked Martin, startling everyone, as they had forgotten he was there.

Tim’s smile managed to get wider and replied, “Exactly! And let us not diminish the importance of Joshua just ignoring the horrors into submission." 

Sasha nodded along sagely, as if she wasn't just playing along.

Jon found his patience dwindling faster than it usually did, as his energy completely tanked on him. It was the exact same problem he had encountered Friday, and left him leaving the office on time, despite wanting to stay late to get work done. Secretly, he was happy to see his friends getting along so well, but he could feel the professionalism dwindling and he was terrified that Elias would somehow know that he was letting his assistants slack so early in the process of reorganising the Archives. So between his complete lack of energy and the sudden and irrational worry that he wasn't doing his job, he snapped, "Look, can we either listen to the next g-d forsaken tape or go back to our desks for the day?"

This immediately quieted his assistants, and they looked at him with a mixture of guilt and annoyance. Suddenly, Tim looked at his watch and grinned. "Well boss, maybe we can have the best of both worlds!"

"And what is that supposed to mean, Tim?"

"It's lunch time! We should all take a break and chill for lunch, and then we can come back to the tapes tomorrow, like you were wanting at the start."

"I could go for that sandwich shop a couple blocks down!" added Martin.

"It would give us time to go over the information we have in more depth, and maybe let Tim call the hospital to find out if there's any word about our mystery man." Finished Sasha, making uncomfortably intense eye contact with Jon.

"You all enjoy yourselves then. I will stay behind to catch up on my work that I put off for this dalliance." Jon said as he waved his assistants off.

"I mean, you look like you could use a break though?" interjects Martin, looking Jon over with both concern and a discerning eye.

Jon feels his irritation at being found incompetent by this man who is several years his senior in both age and experience rear its ugly head. "I would appreciate it if you would not make erroneous assumptions on my behalf, Martin. I will be fine, and would much rather go back to work, thank you."

Martin looked crestfallen, but there was an understanding in his gaze that Jon did not want to look into further.

"Sounds like boss is decided, so what say you two to some takeout for lunch?"

Sasha and Martin glanced awkwardly at Jon before Sasha nodded back at Tim and joined him by the door. Martin looked over at Jon again, before also joining Sasha and Tim by the door. Without another word to Jon, the three headed out.

Jon felt himself wilt against the box of tapes with a deep sigh of exhaustion. G-d he was tired. Maybe if he set an alarm for a half hour he could get in a nap at his desk? No, no he had too much backlogged work from this morning he needed to do. Because if there was one thing he was quickly learning, it was when his assistants set out to do something properly, it got done whether he wanted it or not. He glanced down at the tapes and wondered if they would disappear if he left them unattended in document storage? Probably best not to risk some weird bullshit happening when his back was turned to his one solid lead.

So with yet another sigh, and a groan from trying to move himself from the floor, Jon set about moving the box of mysterious tapes to his office. He resolved that if the others asked him where they were he would let them know where he was keeping them. That way if they really wanted them, he’d be able to help keep an eye on them. And if they didn’t, Jon could get into them once he was feeling better.

Despite Jon's resolution to actually get some work done before his assistants came back, the bone deep weariness hadn't gotten any better and made concentrating on anything nearly impossible. So he set a timer after he had gotten the box of tapes shoved under his desk, and took a nap, hoping he would be awake by the time the others got back.

Suddenly, Jon was roused by the door on his office opening. He shot up, eyes blinking blearily at the figure in his doorway, and scowled. "Tim, I know you have work you should be getting back to, so this has better be related to that or an emergency." However, instead of Tim's usual flippancy, Jon was greeted with the single, quirked eyebrow of his boss, Elias. Jon felt a cold bolt of terror sink into his gut and he tried to quickly compose himself a little better.

"A-ah, Elias, my apologies. I did not realise it was you at the door."

Elias merely smiled understandingly. "That is perfectly alright Jon. I am sure your assistants are enjoying their lunch break. I do hope you remember to take one for yourself at some point today."

Jon gave Elias a nod, though he resolved to actually get back to work after this interruption. He had taken a break already with his nap after all. Speaking of… a loud ringing noise came out of his phone, and Jon jumped at the noise. With a lunge, he grabbed the phone and turned off the alarm while giving Elias a sheepish look. "My apologies again, there should be no more interruptions, I assure you. I assume you wanted to speak with me then?"

Elias nodded and looked far more serious. "I am afraid so. I wanted to check in, find out how you were doing after this morning's incident. After the rumours about you having a twin made it up to my office, I thought I would check in and make sure there was nothing more serious that came of things."

Jon felt himself wilt just a little. Of course. Of course Elias would hear something ridiculous like that about this morning’s insanity. He was mostly surprised that anyone even knew he was and that the stranger even looked like him to be frank. However, now he was stuck doing damage control on the most outlandish rumour possible, and to his boss no less. It was quite embarrassing. "The rumours you heard were greatly exaggerated. I have no living family, so to have a long lost twin would be absurd. So no, I can't say that there was anything more serious that came of this morning’s incident other than I will be requesting the janitor pay special attention to Document Storage. The man was bleeding and left an unfortunate amount of blood on the floor before we were able to get him to the paramedics," Jon finally replied. He pointedly glanced in the general direction of Document Storage. 

Elias stared at him harder and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, like something was breathing down the back of his neck as it stared at the back of his head. But just as suddenly as the feeling of being watched had appeared, so too did it depart. "Well, let me know if anything comes up. I am sorry to hear a statement giver left you in such an awkward position." Elias looked over Jon's desk, ignoring the sputtering Jon was making at the implication a man bleeding out in Document storage was a mere inconvenience. "I also wanted to ask how recording the Statements has been going? Have you been able to make any headway of late?"

Jon grumbled inaudibly a moment before responding. "It has been going better now that we have a way to record the statements that refused to record digitally. I assume you've made no progress towards asking an IT professional to take a look at our equipment?"

"Unfortunately, no I have not.” Elias made a vaguely sympathetic grimace. “And please don't push yourself too hard. Nothing down here is going anywhere, and I shouldn’t need to remind you that recording the statements is your highest priority at the moment."

Jon nodded again, though he knew he would be at the office late again if his body didn't give out before then. "I will be sure to do so. Now was there anything else?"

Elias gave him one more good look over before shaking his head. "No, you seem to have things well in hand. I will be excited to see your progress as you continue your tenure as Archivist." And with that, Elias smiled and left the room.

Before Jon could so much as breathe a sigh of relief, Tim appeared in the doorway with a small paper sack and a bemused smirk on his face. "Is double boss always like that?"

Jon felt the sigh slip out anyways. With an irritated frown he replied, “Yes, he is always surprisingly supportive till I actually need something.”

Tim snickered as he entered and placed the brown paper bag on Jon’s desk. “I mean sure, he’s definitely “supportive of your professional development”. But no, I meant the constant staring! I swear, he doesn’t blink.”

Jon felt a thrill of paranoia, and the oppressive feeling of being watched suddenly became more noticeable. As was becoming uncomfortably common, he shook his head and focused on something else. In this case it was finding out what Tim had brought him from the sandwich shop. However, because it was Tim…  “If you are trying to imply something about Elias’s intentions towards me, I would really rather not know about that.” He smiled at the unwrapped sandwich. “Particularly when I am about to enjoy this ham and cheese sandwich you so generously picked up for me. I would hate to lose my appetite right before my sole sustenance of the day.”

Tim laughed. “Oh Jon, if that’s your only food for the day, remind me to get you a 3 course meal next time.” 

Jon paused, his sandwich midway up to his mouth. This was the first time since his promotion that Tim had called him anything other than boss, and he hadn’t realised how much he had missed it. To cover his momentary lapse in eating, Jon merely resumed, hoping that Tim hadn’t noticed.

Tim at the same moment had let his laughter trail off, realising that he had slipped. He had been trying so hard to distance himself from Jon after the promotion, since it wasn’t fair to Sasha that Jon had gotten the position that she had rightfully earned. He figured as long as he still tried to reach out every once and awhile that he could still call Jon a friend, and maybe find where the new middle ground between them would be now that Jon was his boss. Because that was the other thing, Jon desperately seemed to want to act professional every waking moment now that he was head of the Archives. And to do that, he had been treating Tim and Sasha like distant employees instead of friends who only wanted to help. Tim understood that Jon was now given a huge responsibility, but surely he could at least not treat his only friends like they were barely competent employees whom he only tolerated because some part of him knew he needed the help. Admittedly, Martin being in the works had seemingly thrown a wrench into their dynamic, but after lunch with him, Tim thought he was beginning to warm up to the guy.

However, Tim realised he had been standing over his boss for far longer than was socially acceptable and he was worried Jon would snap at him if he stood there for too much longer. “Well, I’ll head back to the bullpen. Oh!” He remembered the other thing he wanted to bring up. “Where did the tapes wander off to by the way? Sasha was hoping to look them over more closely before tomorrow to get a better idea of the approximate age of the tapes. Maybe even make some educated guesses on run times based on the model of the tapes.”

“Ah, I presumed that they would be safer if they were under a watchful eye. So I placed them under my desk till they were otherwise needed.” Jon gave Tim a stern look. “However, I will only let Sasha borrow them once her work for the day is completed. That stands for all of you, so please pass on the message. At the latest, you will be able to look them over when we come back tomorrow morning. I hope to determine a general timeline for listening so that it interferes as little as possible with our workload in the Archives.”

“Right,” Tim looked a little put out, but Jon hoped that it was a good sign that that was all he did. “Well, I’ll let Sasha and Martin know. Also,” Tim suddenly let what little of his joviality go. Jon straightened in his seat, as Tim never completely removed his mask unless it was something of serious consequence. “I called the hospital. Asked them about any stabbed John Doe’s they received today, and long story short they’re thinking he’ll make it. That was about all they could tell me over the phone though, so I’ll be finding out more after work.”

Jon nodded wearily, wishing the sandwich could cure this miserable lack of energy. If anything, his favourite sandwich was only making him vaguely queasy on top of filling his stomach, which wasn’t great. However, Tim had shown him a moment of weakness, so maybe he could try it too. “Keep me posted. And keep safe. If there is something supernatural going on with this stranger, and I really very much doubt there is, I would prefer it if you kept Sasha with you when visiting in person.” Jon let himself sigh onto his empty sandwich wrapper. “Research always did emphasise the buddy system when looking into field work.”

Tim gave Jon a critical once over, before nodding solemnly. “Wise words.” With that he smiled brightly. “Well boss, I have work to get done and messages to deliver! You get some shuteye tonight okay? You’re not you when you’re tired~” With that, Tim sauntered out the door, and Jon was left wondering what he had done in research to attract such interesting compatriots.

Chapter Text

The rest of their day was fairly mundane. Everyone was a bit distracted of course and if Jon took a 2 hour nap in his office that afternoon… Well, his assistants were none the wiser. As they were all packing up to go, it was seemingly accepted across the board that they would be following Tim to the hospital to check on the strange man from that morning. Jon made sure to lock the tapes in his office and hidden under his desk till the next time he was in the office. He got some surprised looks from his assistants as he joined them out front of the Institute, but was verbally welcomed.

Jon knew that as much as he hated the idea that this stranger was related to something larger than himself, he also knew that he would not be able to let a mystery like this go when it was so obviously related to his job in the Archives (to him in particular). So off they went to the hospital, his assistants chatting amongst themselves. Sasha and Tim tried to engage him, but he left his responses relatively short, so they eventually focused on bringing Martin into their fold. Jon was secretly very thankful that Tim and Sasha were still trying to reach out to him. He knew that the transition to the Archives wasn’t as smooth as he had hoped, but it was nice to see that in actual moments of distress they would be willing to renew their efforts at bridging the gap. Jon just wished he had the energy to give more than one word replies.

Without much hassle, they arrived at the hospital that Tim had said was where their mystery man was being kept. Martin had a strange look on his face as they passed through the front doors, and Jon found he was too tired for even the usual dread he would feel at seeing his most senior coworker potentially passing judgement. Instead he found he wished he could say something to wipe what he was beginning to think was the start of worry from his assistant's face, even if it was masked over with a perfect look of fretful care.

Tim talked with the front desk woman, working his magic, while Sasha seemed to be scoping out the various cameras and electronic devices in the waiting area. He was momentarily struck by how much he admired the research talents of his assistants, before Tim called them over.

"Right, so I have good news and I have some bad news, which would you like first?" Tim said as they stood away from the front desk.

"Good news seems like a nice place to start?" Suggests Martin, looking desperately like he needs some hopeful news for once.

"Whichever makes most sense on its own first," counters Sasha.

The three assistants look at Jon, and he takes a moment to register that they are trying to ask him a question. By the time he formulates his response, they look worried. "I agree with Sasha." There, nice, succinct, and a nice summary of his desires.

Tim nods slowly, and gives Jon a once over. He must weigh his news as more urgent, because he continues. "So, good news is that we'll be allowed up to see our mystery man whenever they have a nurse available to take us. They're only letting us up because they're hoping we can positively ID the guy, but I think they'll make an exception for us even if we can't but still want to visit later.

"Now, bad news is he's still unconscious. Nurse still won't tell me anything concrete but I think I'm gathering that they might have had to put him into a coma to heal from all the shit that's wrong with him. However I hope they'll just tell us once we're actually in his room and they send his doctor to talk with us."

Before any of them could react, a harried looking nurse called from the door leading further into the hospital for a "Timothy Stoker". Almost as one, they got up and approached the nurse.

"I'm sorry, we can only let two people in at a time for visiting."

Tim put on his smoothest grin. "I’m sure you can make an exception for us . Melissa told me that you would be fine with us four to visit John Doe on 4th floor."

The woman looked at them a little more closely, and upon seeing Jon she locked up. "Ah, I see. Follow me then." Without even a glance back to make sure they were all following, the nurse began to speed walk to the nearest elevator. The four of them scrambled to keep up, not wanting to get kicked out for getting lost where they weren't supposed to before they had answers.

Jon didn't let himself wonder about why she changed her mind after seeing him.

In what felt like almost no time at all, the Archival crew was escorted into a small room far on the edges of the main hospital. The wing itself seemed startlingly empty, and even the nurses station only had one nurse manning it, looking like he hadn't slept in weeks. No other nurses than the one escorting them could be seen wandering the hall or sitting at any of the small tables with reams of paper and pens partially used strewn about their surfaces. The brief glances into some of the rooms showed them all unoccupied and fairly Spartan in their furnishings. There was even a lack of security cameras, Jon idly noted, nervously worrying the edge of his shirt sleeve. The whole wing was silent as well, both due to the lack of people, but also due to the lack of background hum from the various machines needed for general hospital care. While the overhead lights in the hallway were on, the unused rooms were dark and silent; the whole wing feeling closer to an abandoned building than a functioning hospital.

Without any fanfare, they found themselves in an occupied room, and the quiet beep of a heart monitor indicated the continued life of its sole occupant. Laid out on a typical hospital bed, was what Tim had briefly referred to as Jon's body double. The man still bore a striking resemblance to Jon, barring his multitude of scars and almost fully grey head of hair, so one could be forgiven for thinking them twins. The man laid otherwise completely still in the bed, tubes feeding in and out of his emaciated body to keep him alive. His pallor was close to corpse-like, and Jon could see thick bandages peeking out of the neckline of the man's hospital gown. The entire room contrasted heavily with the rest of the wing preceding it, looking exactly like what one would expect of an unconscious or even comatose patient’s room elsewhere in the hospital. The usual furnishings were all in place, and the small in-room suite for supplies seemed well stocked from what little could be seen through a crack in the door. The room was also well lit, and the windows looking out onto the street had their blinds at an angle that sent the ambient light towards the ceiling, allowing for some natural lighting, but not in a way that would blind someone visiting or the patient in the bed.

After taking all this in, Jon could be forgiven for not realising the female nurse had left till Tim piped up and muttered, "well this is just really damn off-putting."

Sasha snickered and added, "what did it for you? I think it's the lack of security cameras in this wing."

"Oh I don't know, maybe it's because there's only one nurse to woo," he replied airily.

"There's no one in the other rooms," added Martin softly. "Why would you have an entire wing of a hospital and never use it? Why staff it with just one overworked nurse?"

Jon couldn't form a full thought through the static in his brain, but he knew that he wasn't being watched right now. He was thankful for this, a weight he hadn’t even realised he had been carrying around lifted from his shoulders and the back of his neck. But he wondered what that meant, and why only here did he feel as if there wasn’t something always watching him.

Tim seemed to immediately notice the lack of verbal reaction from their usually acerbic boss, and turned to ask him a question. However, almost sensing that there was a moment of silence, the male nurse from the nursing station entered the room and cleared his throat. Martin and Sasha jumped, Tim whipped around and Jon merely glanced at him before looking back to the stranger. “Ah good, are you all here to claim him?”

The Archival assistants looked amongst themselves and seemed to try and get Jon’s attention. When he didn’t take over, Tim took the lead. “Well that’s the thing. We aren’t sure who he is, he just showed up at our workplace and collapsed.” The nurse looked sceptically at Tim and then at Jon. He then raised his eyebrows. 

“Uh huh.” He said slowly. “Well it doesn’t matter that much to me if we ID him or not, but may I at least assume you aren’t here to gawk?” The man gave a pointed look at Jon who was still staring at the figure in the bed.

“Oh! Oh yeah, we’re here to check in on him and find out how he’s doing. Speaking of, how is he? Was worried for a bit that I’d call and get told he died.”

“It was pretty close for a bit there.” The nurse gives the stranger a thousand yard stare for a moment, then focuses back on Tim. “We’ve put him in a coma till the internal damage is farther along in the healing process."

When he didn't continue, Sasha prompted him with, "what did he come in with that needed the coma?"

"I really shouldn't tell you, due to doctor patient confidentiality, but you lot work for the Magnus Institute, right?"

Tim and Sasha eyed each other cautiously, unsure if they should admit to it or not. Martin had no compunctions about it and said, "well yeah! But what's that got to do with it?"

The nurse gave them a nervous once over again, still lingering the longest on Jon. "The weird ones always go to you lot, so I figure I can tell you. But, only if you promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you." He received various assurances from the assistants that his privacy would be respected and that regular operations in the Archives required strict adherence to NDAs to protect the statement givers.

Jon blinked, pushing through the haze. This was important, this would provide answers. So with a monumental burst of effort, Jon turned to look at the nurse so he could better pay attention. When he realised everyone was nodding, he gave a short nod as well, hoping it was the right response.

The nurse jumped at Jon's sudden animation and seemed disconcerted by it. However, he seemed to push past his concerns and began explaining now that he had his assurances.

"As I'm sure you've gathered by now, I work in this wing mostly on my own. We have one doctor on staff who's been sectioned as well, and another nurse who usually works nights. The lass who brought you up knows just enough to be wary of getting placed in here, but most of the hospital treats this wing like a lepers colony. Otherwise I spend most of my days at the nurses station in an empty wing thanking my lucky stars I have no patients.

However, today was my unlucky day, and your… twin showed up here and was immediately carted to my wing. Very few cases are immediately brought to me, but those that do always have a few things in common. Usually it's that there is something obviously unusual happening to them. Sometimes it's an amputated limb moving around autonomously, sometimes it's spiders crawling out of their eyes, and sometimes they're just oozing obscene amounts of maggots from every orifice. However, very infrequently, we'll get cases from places we know cause trouble every time, like the Magnus Institute. In the case of your twin here, it was obviously the latter, though with what happened by the time he arrived he could have fallen into the former as well.

He arrived bleeding out, and I and the doctor did our best to patch him up. He had a collapsed lung, a perforated heart, and massive blood loss. That doesn't include the older trauma including 2 missing ribs and heavy scarring across most of his body. I also can't rule out a concussion based on the heavy bruising on the back of his head. However, he should have died from the perforated heart alone and accompanying massive blood loss, but instead his body healed to the point of not needing surgery before his eyes just melted cleanly out of his skull. As far as the doctor was able to tell,the only complications that might arise would be cerebral, so we’re hoping that between getting a specialist up here for his eyes and keeping a close eye on him during his coma he’ll make a full recovery barring being blind.

In any case, I'm just hoping he recovers quickly so I can get him out of here and he’s no longer my problem."

The five of them stood around staring at each other for a moment, before the nurse cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m not sure why I shared all that.” He looked distinctly uncomfortable by this, and Jon suddenly looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and was living off of shots of espresso. “As it is, I would appreciate knowing now if you plan to stick around or not so we can plan around visits and later discussing more important matters.”

The assistants looked between each other, and seeing as Jon was beginning to fall asleep on his feet, Tim took the lead once again. “Yeah, I’d say we’ll be seeing this through. When we have a better idea about when we can visit we’ll be sure to keep you updated.” The nurse nodded and showed them where the chairs were stored in the room and what the normal visiting hours were. He offhandedly mentioned patients in this wing normally didn’t get visitors, so he warned them he might get other patients he would be spending far more time with. Tim, Sasha, and Martin nodded along, Martin having taken the initiative after being shown the chairs to set one up for Jon and gently pushing him into it where he paid no attention to his surroundings. The nurse then insisted they could call him Daniel and warned them that if they stayed till the night nurse arrived they would be getting thrown out on their asses. With that, he excused himself and left the room in a hurry, presumably back to his station.

By the time he had left, Jon had fallen asleep in his chair, and thus the assistants were left with the two sleeping Jons and their whirling thoughts.

-

For luck, Sasha was able to get Jon awake just in time for them to leave for the night. Everyone was silent about what they had learned at the hospital, and instead Tim, Sasha, and Martin talked amongst themselves about how they were all getting home and wishing each other and Jon a good night. Tim appointed himself guardian of Jon, and helped get him back to his apartment on his way back to his own. Jon was dropped off with no incident and Tim made his merry way back to his place.

Jon knew he should feel something about the events of the day, but there had been so much he just could not seem to focus and skipped supper to go straight to bed.

The next morning, Jon felt like death warmed over. He also woke up feeling like he hadn’t had a moment of restful sleep, though for the life of him he couldn’t remember what he had dreamed about. However, he knew there was still too much to do in the Archives, so he dragged himself through his morning routine via sheer force of will. He made sure to grab an espresso on his way into work, and hoped that his assistants wouldn’t notice the heavy eyebags he was sporting. He knew Tim and Sasha would be obnoxious about it, Tim with his cavalier attitude turned up to 11, and Sasha by repeatedly spamming his inbox with cat videos. (Back in research he wondered at some point if she had a playlist dedicated just for cat videos, but decided the effort of finding out wasn’t worth it.) But with Martin in the mix, Jon was sure his day would be unbearable. If it wasn’t Martin’s incompetence researching statements, then it was Martin getting underfoot and asking how he could help. Truely, the man bothered Jon, but just barely under the point of asking for him to be transferred out of the Archives. Plus, Elias had placed Martin in the Archives personally. So Jon had a feeling that even if he did ask to have Martin transferred, he would be denied and given some line about how qualified Martin was and if Jon was sure he didn’t need a third pair of hands to deal with the workload.

And of course, there was the matter of the tapes. Jon hoped that he could convince his assistants to wait for a few days before they listened to the next one. After all, there was follow up research to do on the second tape, just to verify that the information was accurate to the copy of the statement Jon had waiting on his desk. Similarly, they still had mountains of other statements to sort through, including many that would have to be recorded to their computers and researched for “veracity”. (Jon doubted the veracity even of the tapes, despite what he worried deep down, but there was something to be said about the obvious implausibility of the ones that recorded to their computers.) To top all this off, he still needed to keep opening up shelves so that they could be used for sorting the statements by date taken. It was barely a week and a day into this new position and already Jon felt the crushing weight of responsibility weighing him down. Honestly, if there was a possible way to take the day off, he would almost consider it because his lethargy even after sipping on his highly caffeinated beverage was about to drag him through the proverbial floor.

Even more pressing was the mystery of his twin at the hospital. Nothing about him made sense, and every time Jon thought he might get answers, he only received more questions. He was stuck trying to figure out if he had a long lost twin separated at birth, or a man who at random looked exactly like him but had gone through the proverbial shredder. And this was if one assumed that the strange man was unrelated to the tapes he had appeared with. Which Jon was desperately trying to rationalise, because admitting that the comatose man at the hospital might actually be the man on the tapes (who sounded exactly like Jon in every sense of the word and even seemed to have also been employed as the Head Archivist at the Magnus Institute, but from some point in the future) meant that Jon would actually go insane. He would have to ask Elias to fire him, because he was unfit for the position. Jon could believe in a lot of things if pressed in life or death circumstances, but a time travelling double who just fell into their document storage one week after he had been instated as Head Archivist? No, just no. Far too ludicrous to imagine and even worse, it was the prevailing theory amongst his assistants.

Jon would prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the stranger in the hospital was not him, nor a version of him, nor a spooky eldritch horror trying to pull one on them. However, that meant listening to the tapes… which Jon was particularly not feeling up to today. He figured he could figure out the details on the fly once he was in the Archives.

Speaking of the Archives, Jon walked in as he had every day previously, and went straight to his office to start his work day. Of course, he had been running late that morning, so Sasha and Martin were there to greet him as he walked through the bullpen on the way. Tim, of course, would be fashionably late and would more than likely arrive in a few minutes. So that would give Jon just enough to safely get to his office and ignore his assistants for a few hours…

"Heya boss! What are you doing here so late?"

Speak of Tim and he shall appear. For the first time since Jon had known him, he had arrived almost on time. Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Jon replied, "Tim. Unfortunately I was running a little late from the events of yesterday, though how it is your business escapes me."

Tim smiled wider. "Well boss, probably because I'm your friend!"

Jon felt a bolt of guilt, but ignored it entirely as he waved away Tim's audible concern. "Yes, thank you Tim. But I am fine, and I expect you all to put in your best work today."

"Actually, I was hoping to talk with you when you got in today," interjected Sasha. "We still need to set up a time to listen to more of those tapes."

Jon turned towards Sasha. "I would rather we didn't today. We are still backlogged from yesterday. Perhaps we couldn't set aside time tomorrow."

Tim gasped dramatically. "Are you saying Mr. Jonathan Sims is actually going to ignore an impossible problem to solve? Say it isn't so!"

"That's, that's different! I will not-"

"You're right! The Jonathan Sims ignoring an obvious supernatural mystery? Why it must be the end of the world." Continued Sasha.

"Wait, does Jon like to solve problems?" Asked Martin while Jon sputtered angrily a metre or two away.

"Boy did he ever. The moment something proper spooky appeared in a statement he was all over it, trying to solve it." Tim grinned from ear to ear as he said this, seemingly overjoyed to share the things he had learned about Jon over their years in research.

"Yes, well my working habits aside, my point still stands that we have actual job related research that we need to complete. As your supervisor I am stating that we will look at the tapes when we have the time to look at them, and not a moment sooner," Jon snapped, already thin patience snapped like a cheap hair tie.

In the silence that followed, Jon turned and stalked into his office, slamming the door behind him.

He managed to keep up the facade all the way to his desk before he collapsed into his chair with a thump and a sigh. Lord he was tired. The espresso had seemingly done nothing for him, and he still had a full day ahead with a mountain of paperwork to work through paired with now disgruntled employees. He was certain it was for the best, shutting his assistants down right away, as he had a suspicion that if he listened to one more tape he was going to pass out. Which not only would impact his productivity, but would also reflect badly on him and put him behind even further. Afterall, he hadn’t even had the chance to stay late the night before due to this accursed fatigue and joining his assistants at the hospital.

With a quiet harrumph, Jon put aside his concerns and decided that since he couldn’t do anything about the lack of energy, he might as well stop bemoaning it and actually get some work done.

-

After the rather abrupt departure of their boss, two of the three assistants shared a few more anecdotes about his propensity for overworking himself before settling in for their morning. It rankled Tim particularly that Jon wasn’t wrong about still having their actual jobs to do, but it seemed so out of character that he wouldn’t ignore his more mundane work for a mystery with some actual meat to it. In fact, he had even left the office with the rest of them the night before, which had been nearly unheard of in the week before, and even back in Research when they had a particularly complicated case. 

However, this made Tim particularly determined to out manoeuvre Jon. If he could stage a mutiny for their lunch hour, they could get in at least two tapes based on the last two in that amount of time. He just had to convince Jon he had no excuses to keep them from the tapes for their lunch hour, and he would be golden. But, this would work best if he could get the rest of the team on board with him, so he sent out emails to Martin and Sasha to gauge their interest. Of course, Sasha got back almost immediately with a positive response. But Martin seemed like he needed a little convincing, which Tim wasn’t surprised by since the man seemed to be a bit of a people pleaser and Jon had been far more cantankerous than even back in Research with the poor guy. So of course, Martin was trying to find the imaginary sweet spot in how to get into Jon’s good graces. (Even Tim had never figured out what caused Jon to suddenly decide someone was his friend. He had been an arse to him for the first several months of being in Research before one day he had seemingly had a 180 and told him that he would be relying on him for his ‘exemplary research prowess and genial demeanour’ in the future. From that point on Tim had been as close as seemingly anyone could get to the cranky man, and even found a joking camaraderie  established before their move to the basement.)

Eventually a plan of action was established, and Tim put it into action at 11:00 sharp. With a spring in his step that was only mostly put on, he briefly listened at the door to make sure Jon wasn’t recording before barging into the Head Archivist’s office. “Oh boss~! It’s time for your daily sustenance!” Jon startled almost comically, lurching from his slumped position on his desk where he had been resting his head to ramrod straight in his chair. Tim felt a brief moment of concern mixed with amusement. Jon never took naps unless he had been up for a few days doing research benders. However, watching him grumpily put himself back into order after an impromptu nap was always incredibly amusing.

“Ah, Tim. 11 already?” Jon swept his papers into the semblance of an organised pile.

“You better believe it! We’re expecting you in the breakroom for team bonding and all that.” Tim continued when Jon opened his mouth to protest. “Now now, you can’t be your best productive self without something to fuel it. I know you think you can fuel your job with coffee and spite, but you and I both know that’s a lie.”

Jon grumbled something that sounded distinctly disagreeable, but Tim chose to ignore it. With further grumbling, Jon levered himself out of his chair and grabbed his jacket that had been draped over the back of his chair. Tim smiled magnanimously and got out of the way of the doorway and gestured out into the bullpen. “After you!” Jon sighed, but finally let a small smile slip as he walked past on his way to the breakroom.

“You would think you would have learned that I can in fact, run off of caffeine and spite by now.” Jon added as they worked their way through the abandoned desks and empty stacks.

“I dunno boss, seems like sleep likes to assert itself more than your spite is able to fend it off.”

“A momentary lapse of judgement, I assure you.”

With that, the two of them entered the break room and Jon stopped suddenly in the doorway. Tim, who was right behind him, smacked into his back at the sudden stop. “Oi, boss! Why’d you stop?”

Tim couldn’t see his face, but Jon was suddenly as rigid as a statue. “Tim. Sasha. Martin. Why, praytell, are the tapes I placed in my office suddenly in the breakroom?”

“Oh, well that would be me,” piped up Sasha from where she was sitting at the small breakroom table. “You were late this morning, and I figured you wouldn’t mind if we moved the tapes back into document storage for you till we could listen to them as a group!” This was true, Tim knew, but only the first bit. Instead, Sasha had confessed that if Jon was too stubborn she was planning on having just the assistants listen to them during their lunch breaks. Plus, if Jon was planning on listening to the tapes without them, this way they would know when he would inevitably go looking for them and not find them where he was expecting them. (Consider her surprise when Jon hadn’t almost immediately come back out of his office that morning looking for them.)

Jon immediately went after the bridge of his nose. “Sasha, next time I would appreciate it if you would just ask me for something out of my office. It is generally considered polite, afterall.”

Sasha shrugged. “Sure. But in the meantime, we were thinking of listening to a tape over lunch. Care to stay and join us?”

Tim, while he still couldn’t see Jon’s face, knew him well enough to know his silence was him frantically trying to find excuses to not join them. It still mystified Tim that Jon was so reluctant to listen to the tapes, but figured with the right amount of pressure he would cave like a wet paper bag.

“I would rather not, but I would also rather you not listen to them without oversight either.” So it wasn’t a no, which Tim counted a success.

“Sounds like you’re getting your lunch and sitting down with us then!” Here, Tim lowered his volume only a little to dramatically whisper to the room, “Afterall, you know how Sasha gets when she wants to research something.” Sasha nodded sagely from her spot at the table and Martin smiled hesitantly from where he had been quietly watching from by the kettle making tea for them all.

Jon let out a discouraged sigh, but didn’t argue. Without another word, Jon went to the fridge and pulled out his lunch. He hadn’t had much time before frantically running out the door that morning, so he had pulled some leftover take-out to reheat later. With a bleary gaze, he made his way to the microwave to begin the arduous process of actually heating his food. Just like every other appliance and electronic device in the Archives, the microwave hadn’t been updated since the late-80s, and thus took double to triple the expected time to warm things up. By the end of last week, there had been a general consensus to never use the microwave if they could help it, due to the nightmare rotation necessary to get everyone’s food through it before the end of their lunch break. Staring at the dimly lit insides of the stationary microwave, Jon debated the pros and cons of eating his Thai food cold. Or at least only half warmed. Before he could come to a decision, a steaming mug of tea was placed in front of him on the counter. He blinked in surprise and turned his head to see Martin standing by with his own gently steaming mug.

“Thought you could do with some tea, since you didn’t seem to want any this morning.” Martin looked away as Jon continued to stare. He was too tired to suss out why his worthless assistant was suddenly making him tea, and he wasn’t sure if he could fake a pleasant face when the tea inevitably turned out to be rubbish. However, it was either make an arse of himself by staring his assistant down and waiting till the tea went cold to toss it, or make an arse of himself by making a face when he drank the tea. He was just functional enough to do the maths, and come out with the answer of ‘just drink the damn tea!’. So, still looking Martin dead in the eye, he took a tentative sip of the tea.

He blinked again in surprise as the tea wasn’t half bad. A little too milky for his tastes, but pleasant nonetheless. “Do you like it?” asked Martin.

“Hmm, quite,” replied Jon, deciding vaguely positive would have to do. With a ding from the microwave, Jon looked away and busied himself with checking to see if the food was warmed all the way through. When Jon looked back after gathering up his lunch, Martin had made his way to the table with the rest of the assistants. Tim had taken up court and Sasha was absentmindedly nodding along as she focused on speeding through her lunch as fast as possible. With a small nostalgic smile, Jon sat down at the remaining empty seat and began working his way through his Thai.

Once Tim had noticed Jon had joined them, he switched gears. “Perfect! We’re all settled, so I’d say it’s time for Sasha to put on a tape.” In a flash of motion, Sasha grabbed a cassette tape and the tape recorder she had brought for the occasion and set both on the table. With a flourish, she placed the tape into the recorder and hovered over the play button.

“Are we ready to go?” she asked, barely restraining herself. When she got nods from Tim and Martin and a weary look from Jon, she grinned and promptly hit play.

The third tape didn’t seem any different than the first two: Jon introduced the statement, read it aloud in a very theatrical fashion, and then closed with a summary of facts about what the archival assistants could find out about the statement. However after the closing remarks were done, Sasha spoke up.

“‘using Institute funds to woo filing clerks again.’ eh Tim?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him as Jon rolled his eyes and Martin quietly sniggered at her shenanigans. 

Tim guffawed at this and shot back, “gotta use my good looks on someone, otherwise they’ll just go to waste!”

“That’s really concerning to think about though, that something could invade your apartment and replace you without anyone else realising other than one person you barely knew.” Martin commented, looking thoughtful and slightly green.

Jon, by this point, had stopped eating entirely despite not finishing, and seemed to be pulling himself out of a haze. He shook himself a little, and said, “Well this was all very enlightening, but I think we are done for the day don’t you think?”

“Oh come on boss, we still have time for one more! It’s barely 11:30, and these seem to only run about 20 minutes. 10 whole minutes to spare!”

“I appreciate your curiosity Tim, but I would like to get back to work sooner rather than later if it’s all the same to you.” As he said this, Jon rose out of his chair… only to immediately sit back down as a wave of dizziness overcame him. Oh he was feeling very tired suddenly, wasn’t he.

“Jon?!”

“Boss?!”

“J-Jon?!”

All three of Jon’s assistants got to their feet as Jon blinked lethargically at the ceiling. He tried to wave them off. “I’ll be alright, just feeling very tired suddenly.” Really, he just needed a nap, and he would be right as rain.

Martin looked nervously between Jon and the other assistants, while Tim and Sasha looked Jon over sceptically. Finally Tim said, “Right. In that case boss, how about you lay down on the couch and we’ll get you up at the end of lunch okay? We’ll even hold off listening to the tapes for you.”

Instead of the token fight they were expecting, Jon just nodded and tried to get up again. When he once again just dropped back into his chair, Tim sighed. “Just a moment,” he stated as he swooped in and scooped Jon up into his arms. He was thankful he had been kayaking a lot that summer, as his arms and upper body were still in good shape from all the exercise. Despite Jon’s slight frame and relative lightness, picking up a fully grown adult in a bridal carry was still a good workout.

Before Jon could even properly register what was going on, Tim had walked him the few steps to the opposite side of the room where the couch sat and dropped him onto it. With an audible ‘oomph’, Jon glared up at his friend while said friend grinned back. Jon then let out an aggrieved sigh and settled into the couch. Despite its age (or perhaps because of it), it made for a lovely napping surface. Before he even realised it, he was out.

Chapter Text

As Jon found out later, he was not awoken promptly at the end of lunch break.

To be fair to his assistants, the plan had actually been to wake Jon up at noon so he could go back to work. But then when they did try by calling his name and gently tapping his shoulder, he barely even twitched. This led to a very convoluted series of events wherein Tim, egged on by Sasha, tried more and more insane ways of waking Jon up. They tried flicking water at his face, gently shaking him, even finding some old whipped cream in the fridge which they used to try the whipped cream in the hand prank. None of it worked, and led to the incredibly primary school urge to draw on Jon's sleeping face with a felt tipped marker. Of course Martin put a stop to that, arguing that there were just some things you didn't do in a professional setting, so the idea went nowhere. Tim then brought up an airhorn, but none of them had one, nor were any of them quite willing to leave the premises just to get one for this one instance. Then Sasha attempted to blast “ I Get Knocked Down ”, but there was nary a twitch from the sleeping man. After that they hit a bit of a wall, so Sasha finally wrangled Tim and a flustered Martin back to the bullpen, deciding that so long as Jon wasn't still asleep at the end of the day, there was nothing to worry about. Plus if he was sleeping that deeply, he obviously needed the sleep.

Once they were back at their desks, Tim leaned over towards her and asked, "so. Are we going to talk about any of that?"

Sasha sighed. "I mean, he could just be still tired from yesterday?"

"You and I both know that's not the case. He was perfectly able to get around the Archives up until the tape."

Sasha let out a frustrated huff. "I know, but if it is the tapes, why are they only affecting him? We've been listening to them right along with him, and I haven't felt tired."

"I-I mean, I've been feeling extra watched though, when we listen." Muttered Martin, staring nervously at his desk.

"What was that?" asked Sasha.

"Oh, n-nothing!"

"If it's about how the tapes make you feel proper spooky afterwards, I was just going to bring it up," interjected Tim. Right as Sasha opened her mouth to say something, Tim continued. “And don’t try to brush it off Sasha, it’s pretty hard to ignore.”

Sasha pursed her lips. “I wasn’t going to deny it…” she grumbled, crossing her arms and slouching a bit at her desk.

Tim gave her a look at this. She threw up her hands in mock exasperation. "Well I wasn't!" She paused. "But it isn’t like working in Artefact Storage either. It doesn’t feel actively malevolent? Just… invasive. And easier to ignore than you’re implying!”

Tim waved her off. “To each their own on that front. But the point stands that we’re feeling spooky shit too when we listen to the tapes. It’s just a matter of degrees maybe?”

“Do we know if weird items have different effects depending on the person interacting with it?” asked Martin.

Sasha thought a moment as Tim and Martin turned to her, since she was the resident expert on “weird items”. “I mean, sometimes? Most things affected everyone in the same way, just to different degrees.” She tapped her finger absentmindedly on the table. “Hmm, maybe he’s just affected by the watched feeling more than we are?”

“What, like he’s a Victorian lady who needs a portable fainting couch for the vapours?” asked Tim incredulously, grinning a little at the mental image.

“Not quite like that…”

“But close enough?” Tim only grinned wider at the implications. Sasha just rolled her eyes. 

Martin spoke up, "in any case, should we really just assume that only the tapes are involved?"

However, before anyone could reply, they could hear a sudden rustling from the breakroom where they had left Jon to his slumber. The assistants all traded surprised looks and Tim got up to find out if their illustrious leader was finally conscious. Just as he reached the doorway, Jon had staggered himself directly into Tim’s chest. With an ‘oomf’, Jon bounced back, and Tim lunged forwards to successfully catch Jon before he could hit the floor.

“Well, look who’s up! How ya feeling boss?” Tim grinned down at the very disgruntled looking man in his arms.

“I was feeling fine before you managed to get in my way.” Jon’s ensuing pout almost made Tim forgive him for his after-sleep grumpiness. Almost . “I would also appreciate it if you could let me up now.”

Looking chagrined, Tim leaned back and fully pulled Jon back onto his feet. “Sorry about that boss.” Tim patted Jon on the shoulders so he could look him over a little closer. Just to make sure he was actually fine. “You definitely look like you had a nice nap at least!”

Jon shrugged Tim’s hands off. “Well, I should hope so. What time even is it? You told me you would wake me up at noon so I could get to work.”

Martin piped up and replied with, “We tried! B-but you wouldn’t wake up no matter what we tried s-so…” He quickly trailed off under the direct scrutiny of Jon’s most disparaging stare.

“Martin’s right, if we had tried anything else it would have ended in someone getting hurt more than likely,” added Sasha. The fact it probably would have been Jon was left unstated, though he seemed to grudgingly get the picture.

“Fine, fine. In that case I really should get back to work-”

“Oh no you don’t boss, we are discussing what happened; because you passing out on us? That wasn’t cool.” Tim placed his hand strategically on Jon’s shoulder, meaning clear but placed lightly enough that Jon could easily shrug him off and head back to his office.

Unfortunately for Tim, Jon was stubborn even when things were going south, and he shrugged Tim's hand off again. "It was just fatigue from poor sleep. I will be fine in a few days. In the meantime I plan on catching up on the work I've gotten behind on."

"If you're sure, boss."

Jon waved them off and stomped into his office, door shutting with a resounding click in the subsequent silence. The assistants glanced at each other before Tim headed back to his desk. 

It was nearly an hour later before anyone spoke up. Out of the blue, Sasha commented, "Okay, I see your point about the tapes."

Tim threw his hands up. " Thank you."

"What pushed you over the edge?" asked Martin, glancing over at Sasha from his desk.

She tapped her pen on her lips. "I mean, he only gets defensive like that when we're on to something. Not to say he knew we were talking about the tapes, but he's been really obvious about trying to not listen to them."

Tim looked justified at this while Martin looked thoughtful. “I mean, he could also just not want to learn more about the tapes right now?” When Sasha and Tim gave him incredulous looks, he shrunk in on himself. “I-I mean, it could happen?”

Tim and Sasha glanced at each other before they looked back to Martin. Tim chuckled and stated, “The first rule of understanding Jon is to always assume he’s trying to solve a mystery.”

Martin looked a bit sceptical at this. “Isn’t he always trying to prove the statements wrong though? Just last week he was pushing for our first assignment to find as much proof as possible that the “Anglerfish” wasn’t real.”

“Au contraire, my dear Martino.” Tim countered. “The second rule of Sims is he is a sceptic till you say “Jurgen Leitner”, and then he will insist till his dying breath that there’s something spooky to investigate.” He shrugged. “These two rules have never managed to contradict the other, and even if he’s trying to prove someone wrong he still treats it like a mystery to solve. Number one reason he put in so much overtime in Research honestly.”

Martin gave a contemplative hum, but trusted that Tim and Sasha would know Jon better than he. “What an odd thing to believe every time though…” Martin had heard some rumours amongst the librarians about Leitners of course. You couldn’t work with books in an Institute dedicated to the supernatural and not hear about the infamous library of murderous books curated by the man named Jurgen Leitner. There were rules in place for book intake to keep the Leitners safely kept in Artefact Storage and not loose in the library. But as passively aware of these things as Martin had been, he still wasn’t sure if he quite believed them. After all, he never worked intake, and he only heard about these things as passing gossip in the breakroom, and the library had always been quiet, dependable work. No mysterious disappearances, no high turnover rates. Just the same 6 old librarians and Martin helping the myriad group of researchers and graduate students looking for their next reference material for whatever paper or article they were writing.

Sasha gave Martin a look. “You worked in the library though. Surely you would have heard about Leitners while you were there?”

Martin shrugged. “I never worked in the part of the library that processed new books, so it was never my business. Besides, it was quiet in the library, and I was never quite sure if the rumours about the Leitners were real or not.”

Sasha sighed. “I guess that’s fair. Goodness knows that the less questions you asked in Artefact Storage, the better for your long term health.”

“Hate to interrupt the commiserating, but getting back to what we were trying to figure out earlier: What are we going to do about boss and the tapes? If they are the reason he’s on the fast track to joining his body double in the hospital, shouldn’t we wait till next week and keep an eye on him in the mean time?” Tim gave the other two a playfully stern look, and both Sasha and Martin looked a bit chagrined. However, Martin was quick to affirm Tim’s suggestion, while Sasha was a little more hesitant to accept.

“I mean, sure, but don’t you think we could try on Friday instead?”

Martin looked nervous about the suggestion, but Tim gave it some thought and replied, “I’d say we keep an eye on him to gauge that. If he seems mostly back to normal on Friday, we can try pushing for another tape, otherwise I bet anything he’ll be back to normal by Monday.”

Sasha sighed, but added, “fair dues. But I reserve the right to get on his case about it if he looks even remotely ready on Friday.”

Tim stiffened into a facade of professionalism and offered his hand to Sasha from across the room. “You strike a hard bargain Ms. James.”

Sasha also straightened and plastered on a faux stern facade. She proffered her own hand towards him and replied in kind with, “Yes, but a fair one, Mr. Stoker.”

With that, they mimed shaking each other’s hands, and quickly devolved into snickering. Martin smiled at their antics, happy to see them having fun and ignoring the pang of loneliness this caused him. He was a professional at that after all. 

And so the rest of their day continued without incident. Jon stayed holed up in his office, seemingly quite happy to let his assistants run wild so long as it kept them from asking him further probing questions. Tim and Martin went back to their respective assignments from Jon from the day before, each so thoroughly distracted by what happened earlier that they didn't get much more done. Sasha decided that since she wouldn't be able to focus on her job, she would instead remember what she could from the tape and add it to her notes that she had begun the day before. After all, there was still the matter that the tapes presented a mystery, and no detail should be overlooked in the solving of it. She decided to wait on listening to the tapes again for the next day, as she knew Tim would be hesitant to listen to it again today. Martin seemed like a bit of a people pleaser, so it wouldn't take much convincing to get him on board, even if it was just to promise not to tell Jon what they were doing. She had a sneaking suspicion that Jon would be fairly prickly about the idea of relistening to the tapes, but she planned to relisten to the first 3 with or without his approval.

-

Thus, the last few hours of the work day passed them by, and the three assistants left at end of day while Jon stayed after to keep pushing through the backlog. Sasha, on a whim on the way back to her flat, decided to take a detour to the stranger's hospital room, since she remembered visitor hours went till 8. She talked with the front desk, and then made her way up to the room at the far edge of the hospital. She nodded at the male nurse at his post, and took the time to note that his name was Daniel Holmes, which she had been too busy focusing on other things last time she visited to register. 

It felt like she hadn't had any time at all since the man who looked like Jon had appeared in Document Storage if she was being honest with herself. And here she was, in her time off work, going back to the hospital to what? To sit at the bedside of a man she didn’t even know while he was comatose? She knew he wouldn’t wake up, at least not any time soon. The nurse had sounded fairly dismissive of his chances when she had interrogated him one on one the day before. It would have been better to ignore him and just live her life, settle in at the Archives and try to get over the promotion. But now here she was, sitting beside a stranger and contemplating her life.

Admittedly, it was here, or her flat. At least here at the hospital there was a tiny, infinitesimal chance to get some answers she couldn't get thinking in her flat. That and it was quieter here than her apartment building, as her neighbors were prone to to gathering noise complains like it was going out of style. In any case, she had the source of all her problems right here in front of her, but most vexing of all he was comatose and unable to answer any questions. She supposed she could make guesses about things based entirely on his physical state, but really the only answers she had were on those tapes. However, there weren’t that many things to be pulled from the tapes thus far. They had only listened to three of them, and each of them had been about what one would expect for the kind of horror stories the Magnus Institute specialised in.

They had, of course, the one from the week previous: a tale centred around a spooky alleyway where a monster lured smokers to their presumable demise. After the research she and Tim had done, they had discovered it was more than likely linked with a series of disappearances where the bodies had never been found, nor had they been heard from again. The worst part was definitely how whatever the monster was, it used human skin to pretend to be a human so as to lure more people in.

Then there was the second one, which Sasha had attempted to record shortly after the first one, to the same amount of success before handing it off to Jon at his request. That one had also been straightforwards, with a man receiving a coffin out of the blue and was asked to hold on to it till it was picked up. He did so for two years before the man who had seemingly tried to pawn it off on him fell victim to it instead and was then taken by the same delivery men who had brought it in the first place. No relations in theme, place, or characters. No ties whatsoever to the first statement other than it only recorded on tape. Their future investigation only seemed to turn up that the man had lived by himself in the apartment building for the duration, upon which when he moved out it shut its doors for good.

Finally, today’s tape, which covered a woman stalking her neighbour and apparently watching him get “eaten” by a monster who pretended to be him and only she could tell. Again, no themes, places, or people who overlapped with the previous two statements; and no other ties beyond it not recording digitally. It was somewhat vexing to try and figure out a puzzle only to realise that none of the pieces you’ve picked up are adjacent. About the only link she could remotely gather between any of them was that the monsters from the first and third ones really liked stealing people's identities by killing them and pretending either with skin or spooky magic.

Of course, there was seemingly the picture on the puzzle box in front of her in the bed. Sims, as she decided to differentiate her different bosses as such, was the final picture of these tapes, she could feel it. He must have been the Jon who had recorded those tapes, and thus eventually some of them would cover the events that led to him looking like he does. As Sasha let herself see the man in front of her, she quickly realised that he must be more scar than man at this point. After all, between the awful divots in his skin covering large swathes of his available skin, and the faint remnants of what looked like burns and scattershot marks across basically whatever skin was left other than his right hand, Sasha knew that all of those scars must have been from different things. And with 197 tapes left to listen to, she knew that somewhere in there, there must be at least an explanation of what had been happening to Jon during however long a time he worked at the Magnus Institute.

Sasha admitted to herself that if she was almost anyone else, she would probably be more distressed to see her friend turned into an anatomy textbook’s worth of scar tissue. She was at least a little distressed at seeing someone with Jon’s exact face and build (if far skinnier) in the shape Sims was in, but her desire for knowledge was insatiable, and she found herself idly poking at the worst of the burn scars in the shape of a hand wrapped around Sims’ right hand. It acted like scar tissue should of course, and she noted that Sims didn’t even flinch, though that could be for several reasons. She forced herself to stop and just held his hand, a small drop of shame causing her to do so.

Even while she had been sitting here, agonising over the puzzle that this man posed, Sims still lay silent. Each breath he took came almost silently, each one a miracle as she knew in passing that comas easily could require the person in them to use a ventilator. She hoped for both her curiosity and his sakes that this was a good sign and that he would eventually recover, no matter how small that chance supposedly was. She wondered idly about Daniel’s comment the day before about how Sims’ eyes had apparently just liquefied in the hospital. Did that have something to do with the trip to their world? Was it something to do with whatever Statement worthy insanity he had gotten wrapped up in on the tapes? She hoped she would find out one way or another, whether through talking with him or the tapes themselves. She wasn't sure how she would handle it if she was kept from learning more about this man on the bed.

However, thinking about Sims also got her thinking about Jon. She had to admit it was very obvious he didn't have a clue what he was doing. Also admittedly, none of them really knew what they were doing. Oh Tim would claim that Sasha knew what she was doing on principle, and if it was research he would probably be right. But the longer they worked in the Archives, the more she realised that while she could have done a better job with them than Jon was doing right now, it still would have been a monumental task to get them back in order. Plus, with how Elias seemed to like checking in on Jon, she was quite sure she didn't want any part of that. Whether this was him showing blatant favouritism (the kind that led to Jon being promoted instead of her), or a different kind of helicopter/indulgent boss, Tim's description of what he had seen the tail end of in Jon's office the day before sounded a little too friendly. 

Sasha gently chewed the edge of a fingernail as she thought. Was it a boss thing? Or was it a favouritism thing? There was an important difference there, related to how Elias treated the other head archivists. Or, well, archivist. She didn't think she remembered Elias and Gertrude being on especially good terms? She knew they had butted heads, and that Gertrude had been trying to show her the ropes months before her disappearance, but thinking further, she didn't think she had ever actually seen Elias interact with Gertrude. It could have been a one way dislike, but Elias hadn't seemed terribly upset by the disappearance in the few chances she had had of seeing him in person. Not that she had had much opportunity, seeing as he wasn't asking her up to his office every other week for two months before the promotion. So favouritism then. 

She let out a quiet sigh, her other hand still holding Sims’, but now beginning to almost massage it idly. Part of her wondered why she was even bothered by this? Of course, she was upset at being overlooked for the promotion. Anyone in her position would, and while initially she had suspected that she was overlooked due to sexism (that was still Tim’s pet theory combined now with some very uncharitable implications which Sasha hoped would never make their way to Jon’s ears), after Tim’s recounting of Elias’s visit she had begun to wonder. Not that anything obvious stood out as wrong, Tim’s short glimpse into the visit sounded like a concerned boss checking in with his new department head about a very unforeseen emergency. No, it was how Tim described Elias’s staring . Tim noted that not once during the whole exchange had Elias blinked, and Jon had held himself far more standoffish than he normally did. Which was odd, because what little she had seen of Jon and Elias in a room together had been the one time Elias had come down in person to ask Jon to his office, and Jon had acted as he usually did: put out someone was dragging him from his work. But this was all hearsay, so could Sasha really draw any conclusions from that? No, she decided, she could not. Thus, she would just have to keep an eye on Jon and Elias’s interactions. Not that she thought there would be many of them in the coming days, seeing as the odds of Elias coming back down before another major incident didn’t seem likely, and she really didn’t expect him to care much about the Archival department in general. After all, he let Gertrude do whatever she wanted which led to their current problem. She was surprised he hadn’t fired her before she disappeared if she was being honest.

But that was all besides the point. The point was that something was up in the Archives, and if it weren’t for these weird tapes and body double, she doubts she ever would have given it a second thought. In this way, she’s thankful to the inauspicious start to their time in the Archives, even though in every other way she wishes things had been different. 

On the plus side, Martin’s birthday was coming up soon, so Tim and she could get something fun planned to distract them all from the “spooky stuff”. She was beginning to gather that while Martin was less flighty than he initially came off as, it would probably be best to have a quieter outing than a full on surprise party in the Archives. Plus, they would never be able to convince Jon to sanction a surprise party in the Archives this early, particularly for Martin of all people. Despite his recent improvements, Jon still seemed to have it out for him, and they were barely on week two in the basement.

She idly looked at the time on her phone, wondering how long she had been there, and realised it had already been over an hour. With a jolt she also realised visiting hours would be over soon, and that if she didn't want to invoke the wrath of the overnight orderly she would need to depart. So she gently patted Sims' hand and gathered her things. With nary a glance and dropping all her previous trains of thought, she departed, missing the minute twitch of the comatose man's eye lids.

Chapter Text

Each day that week passed quietly, and everyone in the Archives fell back into some semblance of normalcy. Jon slowly recovered and looked a little less like death warmed over, even if he stayed prickly and unpleasant throughout. The other assistants began to bond, though Sasha, in lieu of solving the mystery she actually wanted to solve, instead did some digging into Martin’s personal files in the Institute’s database. She quickly learned that he was much younger than he had initially claimed to be when ages were brought up, and that his birthday was actually rapidly approaching within the next month. She ended up bringing up birthdays during lunch, and managed to get Martin to spill the date, thus giving her plausible deniability when Tim inevitably came to her to brainstorm a party for him. Since they had the time to plan, not much was done on that front, since Sasha was too distracted with keeping an eye on Jon for Friday. 

Instead, she managed to get permission from Jon to relisten to the tapes they had already listened to so she could take detailed notes. He also provided the original Statements for the first two tapes, only one of which he had technically gotten to tape already the week before. The third, he confessed, hadn't been found yet, though he recommended to them all to keep an eye out for the missing Statement, so as to keep verifying the similarities of the tapes to the Statements in their reality. Unfortunately for Sasha, she was unable to find anything concrete to follow up on in those tapes. Mostly, she argued, because she didn't have enough data points to compare between.

Thus the morning of Friday dawned a rare sunny day in late May and the assistants found themselves restless as they waited to see their boss. Jon had arrived an hour before them, as was becoming his habit, but hadn't made his usual appearance to hand out any new assignments he may have wanted them to complete. Tim was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and ended up spending much of the morning taking his time on previous assignments and checking some outdoor forums. Martin was just trying to catch up on all the work he was behind on (through no fault of his own, Jon was still just being a prick about Martin’s sudden addition to their group), and Sasha was staring intently at Jon’s door when she wasn’t actually doing more work than requested and helping get ahead of what Jon would eventually ask them to work on.

All was quiet till lunch rolled around, and Sasha stood up from her desk looking determined. Both Tim and Martin watched her with some amount of trepidation, though Tim could tell this would either go extremely well or extremely poorly. While he didn't want a repeat of Tuesday, he thought encouraging Sasha while giving her friendly advice would be the perfect way to have some fun without causing trouble. So, in all of his wisdom (or lack thereof), he called out to her, "best of luck! Maybe wait till Martin brews the boss’s cuppa first, though." 

Sasha called back in response, “Yeah yeah, Martin’s tea is magic. I’m sure I’ll be fine Tim”. With that she finished making her way to Jon’s office door.

Her plan was, of course, to see if they could corner Jon like on Tuesday so as to see if he would be willing to eat lunch and listen to the next tape with them. Her backup plan was convincing him to stay in the office with them after work to listen to it. However, when she finally walked into his office after getting a quiet "come in", her plans quickly reoriented towards getting Jon out of the Institute period.

Jon looked death warmed over, and that was saying something after how pale he had looked right before he collapsed on Tuesday. "Jon, are you alright? Have you left the office at all since yesterday??"

Jon gave her a vaguely irate look that fell flat. "Yes, I did actually leave the Institute yesterday and I had a full night of sleep last night." He sighed, somehow looking even more tense. "However as you can see, I am busy today so whatever it is you came in for, I'd like you to make it quick."

Sasha gave him a stern look. "Well I was going to ask if you wanted lunch and to listen to a tape, but seems you've already listened to one without us." While Sasha couldn't be sure that was the reason for his sudden decline in health, she wasn't quite sure what else it could be. Seeing as he immediately looked like he had just gotten done sucking a lemon, Sasha feels mostly just disappointed she got it right.

"I don't know what you're implying Ms. James, but I find I rather don't appreciate it." Ah, so he was going to play the denial card mixed with the distant boss persona. Unfortunately he is the easiest man in the world to read when he's lying.

"Mhm, and you just happened to look like death after doing nothing but paper work and not being in contact with anyone who would get you this sick." Admittedly, he could have picked something up on the Tube and it was just kicking in now. But the way her life had been going the last week, she very much doubted the rational explanation.

Jon sputtered performatively before stating, "I will have you know I haven't touched any of the tapes since Tuesday." 

Sasha raised an eyebrow. "So you really haven't tried to listen to any of the mysterious tapes behind our backs?"

This time he looked remarkably less shifty as he said, " no I really haven't. And I would thank you to remember that in the future Sasha. Now, what was it again you wanted from me?"

Sasha gave him another searching look, trying to figure out what he had lied about then the first time if it wasn't him listening to tapes behind their backs. Nothing quite came to mind, and she sighed internally at having to wait all weekend before he might be able to listen to another tape.  Instead she said, "oh I'm just here to invite you to lunch with us in the break room. Figured you might be at a good pausing point in your work, and Tim was hoping to check in with you."

Jon waved away her concerns. "The thought is appreciated but I'm quite busy today as you can see." There were, admittedly, very large stacks of folders on his desk, slowly swamping him in office detritus. "So, if you would be so kind. " He gestured at the door, still ajar from her entrance, and the message quite clear. She nodded, but rolled her eyes after she had turned away. Tim would be disappointed if unsurprised.

She made sure to close the door behind her as she departed, and caught behind her the shuffling of papers as Jon presumably got back to what he had been doing. In front of her were the assistants' desks, and Tim was blatantly staring at her in curiosity. Martin was diligently staring at his work, but Sasha could tell he was glancing at her as well. So, she went to her desk and announced to the room at large, "he's not joining us today."

"Knew you should have waited till after Martin's tea break! After all, I think that's the only time I've seen Jon not throw someone's tea in the sink."

Martin blushed brighter than a cherry and stuttered, "T-Tim!" He glares at Tim from where he was sitting. "You can't j-just say things like that! All I did was make everyone a cuppa…"

Tim snorted. "Sure, but Jon is notorious for being picky about the teas other people give him; says it 'gives the wrong message' if he drinks it all if it's bad. Now mind you," Tim raised a finger into the air triumphantly. "He makes the worst tea imaginable for himself and I don't think it's because he likes the taste of 3 bags of Earl Grey steeped for ten minutes in tepid water."

Martin looked beyond scandalised at this affront to tea everywhere. It easily trumped every other abomination to tea he had had the displeasure of hearing about, by a mile . "He does not ," he breathed, feeling like he was suddenly breathless.

"Oh that's not even the worst of it! But if I tell you, you might keel over dead…" Tim looked thoughtful for a moment-

Before he could continue though, Sasha jumped in. "Speaking of keeling over dead, thought you might want to know that Jon is back to square one on his recovery chart when I saw him." Sasha paused. "Well, not quite square one, maybe square two or three."

"How on Earth could he drop off that fast?" pondered Martin while Tim said at the same time, "Wait! Has he been listening to the tapes without us?"

Sasha shook her head. "No, no. He told me wasn't listening to the tapes without us and he was just under the weather."

"Yeah, well…" Tim shot the door to Jon's office with a heavy look. "He's got a habit of lying straight to our faces if he doesn't want to confront someone."

Sasha nodded but added, "sure, but it's easy to tell when he's lying, particularly when he's actually trying to lie. Somehow, he wasn't lying about the tapes." Tim and Martin looked concerned, particularly as she went on. "Instead he seemed to be lying indirectly about not being up to something in his office to cause him to be tired like Tuesday. But I have no idea what that could be since I thought we concluded it was due to the contents of the tapes."

They sat in silence for a bit as they thought things over. Then Martin spoke up and asked, "D-did we decide it was the tapes themselves or the Statements on the tapes?"

Tim snapped his fingers. "That's right, we figured it was probably the Statements on the tapes that were the hard part."

"Then maybe the reason he's tired now is because he did a preliminary recording for another one of the statements that only record to tape!" Exclaimed Sasha, the pieces falling into place.

Tim sighed in annoyance. "Ugh, guess we'll have to wait till closer to Wednesday next week before he's ready to listen to the next tape."

"Yeah… I was really hoping for a lead before the weekend, honestly."

"Well, you both could try checking on the guy in the hospital, see if you can deduce anything from him? Maybe you could even try asking Daniel if he's got any more specifics about when J-... Sims might wake up." Added Martin.

"Wait, who's Daniel again?" Asked Tim, giving Martin a confused glance.

Martin sighed and gave Tim a look of exasperation. "The nurse who worked in the spooky ward? You know, the guy we talked with briefly about Sims' coma?"

"Oooooooh." Lights seemed to click on in Tim's head. "So that's what his name was!"

“Tim, he was wearing a nametag! We were there for hours ! He even told us his name!”

Tim shrugged helplessly. “Doesn’t mean I was paying much attention. I caught all the other important bits!” Martin glared at him in disappointment.

“Martin has a good idea though. I didn’t end up asking Daniel about Sims while I was there last time, so maybe this time we could see if he’s still not busy.” Sasha added in the lull that followed.

“Wait, you went to see him again?!” exclaimed Tim and Martin. “Okay, now you have to tell us more. He still in a coma then? Figure anything out by giving him your x-ray stare?” Tim continued.

“Ha! I’m flattered you think my eyes can see through anything other than lead, but unfortunately that’s not how that works. And no, I didn’t figure anything new out, because yes he’s still in a coma. You heard the nurse back on Monday, other Jon will be out of it for a while yet.”

Tim gave a theatrical moan of disappointment. “Damn,  how could you have failed us like this Sasha? When we trusted you?” Sasha just rolled her eyes at him. “Guess we’ll just have to stop by and give him an oggle then.”

“Ha! Tim!” Sasha laughed, startled at the wording.

Tim wiggled his eyebrows back in response. “What? Can a man not appreciate his assistant boss and look for supernatural clues at his bedside?”

Sasha shoved him lightly in response, and they both broke down into giggles. “Tim, this is serious !” 

He waved off her concern, but quieted down fairly quickly after that. Martin looked between the two, but waited to say anything till after they had both had their fun.

“You two g-go without me. I have some things to finish up here…”

Tim gave an overly dramatic sigh. “Mate, you really need to just ignore Jon’s bitching. Man has apparently let all the power go to his head with this promotion, so I’d say just leave on time and tell him you’re still working on it when you get back on Monday.” Tim then seemed to think of something. “In fact, why don’t you come with us to the hospital and we can all get drinks afterwards! I know a great place not more than 10 minutes walk from the hospital. It can be our little secret assistants night out.” 

Martin thought the offer over for a moment before shaking his head. “Maybe a different weekend. I really want to get this report finished before Monday so that I can get it to Jon on time. You two both have fun though if you go somewhere after the hospital visit!”

“You know you can just text us when you’re done here and we can meet up somewhere before you head home, right?” asked Sasha.

Martin gave a more sincere smile. “O-oh! I… Y-yeah I could do that, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Or, if you just really don’t feel like hanging out, you can always just say no.”

“W-well….”

“C’mon Sash! He obviously wants to join us, but his duty to our illustrious leader is getting in the way.”

“I-I mean, I wouldn’t say that …”

“Now Tim, not everyone wants to go to a pub on Friday night every week. Jon certainly didn’t! And besides, we’re going to the hospital first, remember?”

“Guys!” Tim and Sasha turned back to Martin, seemingly having forgotten that the object of their squabble might actually have opinions. “I think I really do just want to stay here for some overtime tonight and head straight home. You both enjoy yourselves tonight, b-but I’m gonna pass.”

Tim gave him a thumbs up while Sasha smiled and said, “Of course! Sorry if we seemed like we were pressuring you. Tim’s very friendly, and we both enjoy inviting new coworkers along for our weekend excursions.”

Martin rubbed the back of his neck. “I appreciate it, and y-yeah maybe I’ll take you both up on it next week.” He looked up at the single clock that was hung in the offices part of the archives. “A-anyways, looks like if we want an actual break for lunch we should hurry up and do that.”

Tim and Sasha immediately looked at the wall clock before frantically heading towards the break room. “Shit! Sasha hurry up!” “I’m coming I’m coming!”

Martin snickered and leisurely made his way behind them. Afterall, their break technically started whenever they wanted it to, it just lasted an hour whenever they did finally take it. However, they had been chatting awhile, so if Jon was a stricter boss about breaks, Martin was sure they would actually be in a crunch time for finishing whatever they had brought for lunch. Thank goodness for them, Jon’s only leniency was letting them manage their own time how they saw fit thus far. At least in terms of breaks. Now if Martin didn’t get those reports filed on time… Well needless to say there was a reason he really did need to stay longer at work tonight. As long as he got them done tonight he could go home and sleep peacefully knowing Jon wouldn't be nearly as angry at him come Monday. (Admittedly Jon was always finding something of Martin's to be upset about. Just 2 days ago he had chewed Martin out for not properly using an Oxford comma. Which Martin thought was bullshit but there was no way to prove otherwise because who knew never finishing college would come to bite him in the arse later? (He did of course, and was spending every moment that he thought about being caught terrified)).

Of course, Martin made sure to make tea for everyone again at the end of the break, and stopped by Jon's office to give him a cup. While he hadn't received a thank you yet, seeing Jon absentmindedly take that first sip without frowning at it was all the thanks he needed most days. Today was no different, and he left silently after Jon had robotically taken his first sip, and returned to his desk.

-

Tim and Sasha left promptly at five, making a ruckus on their way out and thoroughly ruining the recording Jon had been making on his laptop. He let out a groan of despair after clicking off the recording software, realising he would need to either go back and edit the recording in an audio editing program, or rerecord the entire statement. Frankly, the time needed to edit the recording seemed on par with just rerecording the whole thing, but the better question was did he have the patience to re-read what was clearly mothman fanfiction based around a trip this man had had abroad? The answer was he was going to have to suffer tonight if he didn't want to suffer tomorrow when he inevitably came in to work the weekend.

Jon stared balefully at the piles of unsorted documents still piled around his desk. Despite having managed to have made an initial recording for another one of the unrecordable statements on his desk this morning, as well as having done some preliminary research on it and having moved back to sorting through which statements recorded to his laptop and which did not, the piles on his desk never got any smaller it seemed. And of course, after having recorded a new tape (#0092302), his energy plummeted to nonexistence. He knew he was infringing on his assistants' time by recording another "tape only statement", seeing as they would sooner rather than later investigate the next mysterious tape. But the paper statements weren't going anywhere without Jon, so he knew if they wanted to see how closely the tapes matched actual statements they had in the Archives, he would have to do his job and record the ones they had found already. Unfortunately that would mean a delicate balancing act so that he could keep on top of yet another thing in the Archives without getting himself accidentally hospitalised. 

So he was left with (as Tim liked to say) spite and caffeine to get him through the day. For luck, Martin's one redeeming factor had popped up at just the right time that afternoon, and the arrival of tea at 13:00 sharp was a godsend. With it, Jon had been able to push through both the usual and unusual mid-afternoon drowsiness, and now had only stopped because of the aforementioned exodus from the Archives. He continued to frown petulantly at his desk top, debating the pros and cons of just leaving for the day on time and go collapse for the next 14 hours before coming right back. However, he finally determined that putting off the statement for later would only cause him more grief, and settled in for the long haul.

An hour later found him finally done with mothman and another bunk statement about a woman who clearly had a bum squatting in her basement, when he was once again interrupted from his work by something crashing out in the main part of the Archives. His immediate thought was that Martin had managed to drop something again, or crash into something important. Then he remembered it was after hours, and that he had heard the others leave on time already. He felt ice slide down his spine, suddenly feeling watched and paranoid that someone had snuck down into the Archives. He should be alone down here. He was frozen in his chair, silent as the grave as he tried to listen for any other noises.

Almost immediately he could hear muffled cursing from out by the assistants' desks. So with dread pooling in his belly, he crept from his chair to his door as silently as he was able. He then listened again for a moment, confirming that whoever it was would still be visible from his door, before slowly cracking open the door of the Head Archivist office. However, the noises had ceased and there was no one by the other desks like he thought there would be. In a bout of irrationality, Jon flung open the door and stepped out to see if that would lure the mysterious noise maker out of hiding.

Suddenly, Martin rushed out of the stacks, holding a small armful of assorted files. Jon, who of course hadn't been expecting any of the assistants to still be here, shouted in surprise. "Good Lord Martin! You nearly gave me a heart attack. What on earth are you still around here for?"

Martin jumped, visibly in shock, thinking Jon would still be in his office. The grip he had on the papers loosened in his fright, and most of them fluttered to the ground. He immediately went after them, ignoring Jon for the moment so he could gather them up.

Once he had them off the ground, Martin seemed to realise Jon had asked him a question, and was waiting for an answer. "O-oh, um… I-I was j-just trying to get my r-report finished before the w-weekend. N-needed to stay a little late." He tried to shuffle his way towards his desk, but Jon's glare did not let up, nor did he return to his office.

Jon was trying very hard to not be angry over the fact Martin had stayed late. He was trying to be responsible after all, but all Jon could think about was the crash he had heard earlier and how much extra work it would be to re-sort whatever pile he had upset in the stacks. “While I appreciate your diligence on this matter, I would appreciate it far more if you could also not give me more work to do.”

“E-excuse me?”

“I heard something fall just now, and I assume I will have to go and make sure whatever it was will be reshelved in it’s proper place.”

"W-wha- ?"

"If you could then, before you go, either drop off whatever fell in my office in the "to sort" receptacle, or place it back where it fell from; I would be ever so grateful. " Jon layered as much of his repressed frustration at life and all that was in it into that final sentence. He knew it was petty, but this had been the longest week of his entire life thus far, and that included that time in uni he stayed up an entire week studying, going to classes, and dress rehearsals for his band's debut. "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall be heading out for the night. I expect to see you again Monday." 

With that, Jon left Martin alone in the Archives, desperately wishing he was already at home and unconscious.

-

Unfortunately for Tim and Sasha, they didn’t end up finding anything new out, either from Daniel or from staring at the body of their boss’s double. The closest they got was a vague assurance that there had been more signs of life during the hourly checks, and that Daniel was hopeful that Sims would be starting to respond to verbal commands in some manner soon. Tim and Sasha decided to spend some time talking by Sims’ bedside, just on the off chance they could hurry along the coma in some way. However, Tim was startled in the midst of them chatting companionably by his phone alerting him to a phone call. Surprised, Tim answered it, and to his further shock it was Martin on the other end asking if the offer for pub crawling was still open. Delighted by this change, Tim informed him they were still at the hospital, but that they would be able to meet him at any bar between the hospital and the Institute. Somewhat concerningly, Martin told him to not bother, and he would just meet them at the hospital. With that he hung up, and Tim was left staring dazedly at his phone. Sasha asked him what was wrong, and all he was able to say was, “Martin’s coming to see us here. Then I guess we’re going to the pub.”

Sasha didn’t miss a beat. “Well that’s good right? He’s decided to leave the office at a reasonable time.”

“Yeah…. Yeah!” Tim decided Martin could tell them over a few pints what had caused the change in plans. Afterall, it was probably just working by himself while Jon lurked in the Head Archivist office getting to him. Tim knew from back in Research that when Jon would get wrapped up in work, he almost never came up for air unless he was done or someone physically interacted with him. Back when Tim had been in a worse place, he had spent many an hour researching side by side with Jon after hours; and was one of the big reasons their little trio had formed the way it had. But Tim also knew that if someone wasn’t used to how Jon operated after hours, it could be disconcerting to suddenly see a distracted Jon frantically muttering to himself and scouring the shelves for reference material on whatever project he was working on. Plus, just ignoring the other person entirely added to the whole: crazed academic thing that Jon tended to unconsciously lean into after hours. Of course, that was entirely discounting that Jon seemed to hate Martin with a passion that Tim hadn’t seen since that one guy in Research had tried to prove that Leitners weren’t as dangerous as the stories claimed. Jon had spent months giving the guy the cold shoulder, even as he spent every waking moment not busy with work pulling together a portfolio of incidents where Leitners managed to get people killed or disappeared. When the guy just laughed in Jon’s face after being given the thick packet of information, Jon found every opportunity to make the man’s life hell. Tim, once he found out what was going on, happily joined in. Even if Tim had his own doubts about some of the pet projects Jon took on, someone dumb enough to ignore a well proven warning like that was just asking for trouble, particularly in a department like Research. Eventually the guy stopped interacting with them, and shortly thereafter Sasha was moved up from Artefact Storage to Research, so Tim and then Jon were thoroughly distracted by other things. But in any case, all that to say Jon was oddly particular about the people he held grudges about, and while most would say he was unapproachable, he was only ever openly hostile relatively rarely. Oh sure, people thought he was openly hostile with his blunt demeanour, but Jon not sugar coating an insult, and Jon actively trying to make your life miserable were two very different things.

Unfortunately for Martin, Jon seemed to have jumped straight to making his life miserable, and all Tim and Sasha could really do was commiserate...

All in all, it did not take long for Martin to join them at the hospital room. Tim initially wondered why he was so eager to meet them in the hospital room itself, but had his question partly answered when Martin arrived. He came, quiet and withdrawn, and simply stared blankly at their boss’s double. After a few moments of them awkwardly watching him stare at Sims, he seemed to come back to himself and said, “Thanks again for letting me come along with you both.”

When he didn’t continue, Sasha smiled and replied, “Of course! We’re just happy to have you along. Jon hasn’t accepted a pub night in months, and it’s just refreshing to have a new coworker to bring!”

With that, they made their way out of the hospital, and Tim led the way to a little hole in the wall he knew wouldn’t be too crowded on a Friday night. While on the way, Tim asked, “What made you change your mind anyways? Jon skittering around in the stacks freak you out?”

Martin frowned a bit, and shook his head in the negative. “I’d rather not talk about Jon right now actually. B-but I’ll definitely talk about other things!”

Tim and Sasha shared a look, and Tim knew they’d let it lie till Martin was a little more relaxed later. Tim instead fell back far enough to gently give Martin a friendly smack on the shoulder, causing him to jump a little. “You’re good mate! That’s why we do these, lets us take a load off after a long week at the office. Besides, feels like we barely know anything about you! And I know you have yet to hear about our time in Research. So tonight, we pretend, and get completely shitfaced in the interim.”

Martin rubbed his shoulder, looking a little stunned at the camaraderie, but let a smile gently grace his features. And with that, he was swept along by Tim on one side and Sasha on the other all the way to the pub.

-

“And then , he looked me dead in the eyes and said in the most serious voice I’ve ever heard: “Tim, the day I say I love spiders is the day I am replaced. If I ever try to convince you otherwise I want you to set me on fire.” And then he did that thing with his face where you know he’s smiling on the inside, but he’s too much of a stick in the mud to actually let it escape.” With that, Tim took a large swig of the ale in front of him, smiling in fond remembrance.

Martin blushed at trying to imagine that expression on Jon’s face, as his imagination painted Jon adorably. He wondered for a moment if he might ever see it, before being reminded of their earlier confrontation. He could feel his mood suddenly plummet, but before he was dragged too deep into the mires of his thoughts, Tim gently nudged him back to reality.

“Let me guess, boss man is who’s getting you down tonight, right?”

Martin sighed, a twinge of frustration appearing and disappearing in a moment at the mention of earlier. He really didn’t want to talk about Jon behind his back to his friends. Then again, most of Tim’s stories that evening hadn’t put Jon in a very flattering light, and if he hadn’t known that they were all friends, he would have thought it borderline malicious at times. But they were, right? Sasha was still trying to keep an eye on him and his double, and Tim, despite some of the stories and the sharp edges, seemed to still genuinely care for Jon. Yes, yes they were. And because they were friends, surely they didn’t want to hear him bemoan Jon being a jerk, right?

“If Jon’s being an arse, please let us know”, said Sasha, jumping in after having taken a sip of her own drink. “We are well aware that he’s been treating you like rubbish, and honestly we want to help as much as possible.”

Martin suddenly felt warmed by more than the alcohol, and finally after some hemming and hawing, told them both his encounter with Jon earlier in the evening. As the story slowly unwound, Tim and Sasha nodded along and truly commiserated with Martin, making him feel the most connection with a group of coworkers he thinks he’s ever had.

After finally spinning his tale, Martin ended it with an observation he had made at the time, and had been bothering him in the back of his mind. “And you know, the oddest part of the whole thing was he just left. He literally went straight home afterwards. I’m not even sure if he remembered to take everything with him when he left…”

“He was being a right prick from the sounds of it, is what.” Muttered Tim, glaring into his empty pint. “He took it too far this time. If he got drenched by a passing rain cloud, it would serve him right.”

Sasha suddenly got a devious smile on her face. “What if…” she paused to sway a moment, the alcohol finally beginning to get to her. “What if we kill two birds with one stone?” Tim looked at her with excited curiosity, while Martin looked hesitant.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, what’s really keeping us from listening to the spooky tapes without Jon? Why don’t we just pull a tape and listen without him? We hopefully get some questions answered, and we stick it to Jon for treating you like shit!” Sasha looked pleased with herself at this thought, and Tim immediately backed her up. Martin, on the other hand, was much more hesitant at the suggestion.

“But, what if we’re caught? Wouldn’t we get in trouble?”

“Au contraire, what is he going to do to us? Fire us? No no, he doesn’t have that ability, he’d have to bring it up with Elias. And considering he hasn’t brought them up to him, I doubt he’d have the wherewithal to lie straight to Bouchard’s face about why he’d want to fire us.” Sasha thought for a moment. “I guess he could give us more work, but he’s already keeping us busy as it is.”

"Wait, he can't? " asked Martin, looking sceptical. Tim also looked vaguely surprised, which must have meant he hadn't known that tidbit either.

"Did I not tell you Tim?" Tim shook his head at her question. "Huh, sorry about that. But yeah I did some digging and unlike basically every other department head, Head Archivist doesn't actually have that much control over their employees." When the looks of confusion didn't fully disappear she lowered her voice, leaned in, and continued. "I went looking for our contracts, because normally you should be allowed a copy, and it's weird that it's the one piece of paper Elias won't cough up if you ask him about it. I couldn't find them in the Institute database, but I did find lightly edited example copies of both the Head Archivist and Archival Assistant contracts."

"Sasha…" Tim gave Sasha a warning tone, their long held disagreement over her penchant for hacking into private records of people they knew suddenly coming to mind.

"Alright, yes yes I know. No hacking employee records of people I talk with. But what I found out this time is important! " Her voice raised a bit as she began to get more heated. "Mr. Bouchard has all the power that matters in the Archives. I couldn't find a single reference in Jon's example contract that alluded to hiring or firing power, or setting wages. The most he can do in those regards is basically write a politely worded email to Mr. Bouchard asking to have those things done on his behalf.

"But the weirdest part is that the contract didn't have a single reference to what Jon's actually supposed to be doing down there!"

"Maybe it says on the actual contract?" asked Martin hesitantly.

"You'd think so, but our example contracts specified that our jobs were to "assist the Head Archivist". Which, fairly straightforward, but what was odd was that was it for ours too! I mean, I remember reading through the contract and not finding anything too odd, but I also don't remember there being more than that in the job description either." Sasha angrily scrubbed at her scalp, before taking a large gulp from what she had left in her pint.

A tense silence fell over them as Martin and Tim contemplated what this actually meant, but was quickly broken by Tim as he tried to lighten the mood. "Well good news is, Martin can stop fearing for his job security."

"...Was I that obvious?"

Tim gave him an understanding smile. "Mate, if you were any more obvious, Jon would have caught on by now."

Martin flushed even further red and buried his face in his hands.

"But hey! Jon can't fire you, and double boss sent you down himself, so I doubt he'll decide to fire you. You're good! Nothing to worry about anymore on that front."

Martin thought to himself that he wished that were true, because now he needed to worry about Jon complaining too much to Elias instead of Jon just passive-aggressively playing with him over whether he would fire him or not.

"You know what, you've convinced me. Let's do some spooky tape crime!" Continued Tim, face flushed and eyes bright. "But I'm not all here and if we plan it I want to be, so tomorrow we should totally get some hangover food and chat more."

Sasha agreed enthusiastically, while Martin gently put his foot down. "I can't do this weekend, I have things I need to get done. And besides I still don't like this, so maybe leave me out of it?"

Tim and Sasha whined a bit, but when Martin stood firm, they agreed to let him accept plausible deniability and leave him out of the planning. He was thankful, mostly because as much as Jon seemed to hate him at times, this seemed like a step too far in the other direction. Plus, Martin really did have to visit his mother in Saturday, and Sunday he would need for recuperating if he didn't want to make a fool of himself at work on Monday. He just really hoped Tim and Sasha knew what they were doing.

Chapter Text

Shortly before the sun would grace its rosy fingers upon the Institute, Sasha and Tim were breaking into the Archives to enact “Operation Super Sleuths”. While the name was mostly a product of their hangovers, Tim in particular loved it well enough to insist they keep it as they doubled down on their drunken plans over the weekend. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to plan: break into the Institute Monday morning before Jon even woke up, find where Jon was stashing the tapes, and then pull the next tape and listen to it in Document Storage. They figured there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell Jon would be coming to the Institute at four in the morning, and Tim knew some lockpicking skills, so gaining entrance to the building should be a breeze.

One would think that after sobering up and having a day or two to think it over they would have backed down, but instead they both ended up convincing each other that the potential loss of trust would be well worth it to keep finding out more. Well, mostly Sasha was convinced by this, Tim was more convinced by maybe helping take an extra load off of Jon, even at the risk of a short term break in trust.

However, even the best laid plans can be brought low by simple oversights. One major thing they hadn't thought to consider would be Jon sleeping overnight in Document Storage. Another detail that they managed to forget is that Jon is a heavy sleeper only when he feels safe, which admittedly they were only just starting to see the outline of Jon's mistrust at the Institute. So between these two facts, and not immediately finding the tapes in Jon's office like they had expected after breaking in, it was to no one's retrospective surprise that upon finally breaking into Document Storage to look for them, they instead awoke an incredibly sleep deprived Jon.

-

Jon had had a long weekend. It had seemed as if every new statement he had filed, 30 more replaced it and the only positive that had come out of his in depth search of the stacks to find potential cross reference material had finally netted him the file attached to tape 003. Unfortunately, that meant he had stayed so late at the office Sunday night, he didn't see a reason to brave the overnight public transit, sleep for 2 hours, and then get up for his shift the next day. He figured rumpled clothes and 4 hours of sleep would be the better option, and thus set up his recently stashed cot in Document Storage. (He had brought the cot with him from Research, knowing himself well enough to know that he would inevitably be using it, particularly after the first week when he realised that there was far more work to be done than originally guessed at.) He got approximately 2 hours of sleep before he was awoken by the sound of a lock disengaging, a door opening, and muttered curses from who he immediately recognised as Tim. For a moment he wondered if he had overslept his alarm by long enough that his assistants were trying to get into Document Storage for their jobs. Tim and Sasha being dressed in what looked like their breaking and entering outfits from Research quickly derailed that hypothesis however. As they stared in horror at him while he continued taking stock, he quickly checked the time and realised that they very much should not be here, and his precious little sleep had been interrupted for nothing.

"Sasha. Tim. I can guarantee there is not a single bloody reason for me being awoken at half four by you two breaking and entering. Whatever the fuck it is you thought you were trying to accomplish, you will find that I do not care. Now, either summarise in 20 words or less why you are here, or save it for when you are on the clock." When neither of them managed to come up with anything more substantive than "well boss, it's… um… that is to say…" he put his foot down.

"I will see you both in my office at the start of your shift, and we will discuss then. For now, get the fuck out of the Institute! Go the fuck back home and sleep for Christssake! If that's too difficult, leave me to my sleep and do whatever it is you do before coming to work in the mornings. Just. Get. Out."

Suitably cowed, Tim and Sasha retreated from Document Storage and closed the door behind them. Jon put in the effort and locked the door, even though he now had definitive proof that the lock can be easily circumvented by at least one of his assistants. He found he was too tired to care, just that he needed the illusion of privacy if he's to get any sleep for the rest of the morning. So he passed out only to be awoken by his alarm another hour later.

-

Sasha knew that Tim felt like shit for waking Jon up. Admittedly she did as well, but it was mixed with a bitter disappointment that they had managed to fall short of their goal. She had always gone down every available rabbit hole for a case, particularly once she was in Research and had access to many more resources than she had ever had before, even in Artefact Storage. While her specialty had always been data mining, that had never stopped her from indulging her curiosity in whatever way needed to fulfil it. With her transfer to Research, she found she could finally snoop to her heart's content and even began making friends that would be willing to help out occasionally. Tim's lock picking skills had definitely come in handy over the years, and Jon's penchant for pushing past most human limits to get results mixed with practically living in the Library and thus knowing the Dewey Decimal system better than he knew anyone he worked with meant Sasha frequently held most of the cards. It helped as well that because of her unique situation of transferring from Artefact Storage to Research instead of either quitting, "quitting", or transferring somewhere less spooky like the Library, she caught the eye of Gertrude Robinson herself, and became the primary contact between the Archives and Research. Thus, she was privy to the fact that something was going on down there, but she couldn’t quite grasp the shape of it before she was moved down there herself. She had also briefly met Martin when they both happened to have been down to the Archives for something or another. She wondered if that was why Elias had sent Martin down with them, his previous interactions with the Archives lending itself to being a better support for the new head archivist. Then again, Martin so far had shaped up to be fairly clueless in matters other than shelving finished statements. (Admittedly, they all needed help on that front, as even a layman could tell that the Archives were in dire straits when it came to finding anything in them, and having someone on the team that actually knew how to sort things was a godsend. Even if that person had the spine of a wet noodle when it came time to actually try to throw his weight around with the boss. Then again, Jon was incredibly stubborn, and Martin was already on thin ice with him as it was, so Sasha did understand, even if it was a pain to watch).

However all of this combined to make for some very mixed feelings about their plan falling through. Sasha had gotten used to finding the information she wanted relatively painlessly in the last few years, but even she had to admit that having a challenge again was fairly refreshing. On the other hand, potentially sacrificing Jon’s trust in them on the altar of her impatience was starting to feel like one of the most stupid things she’s ever done, and that was saying something. It had taken an admittedly long time before Jon warmed up to her. Tim had taken an immediate liking to her, and her to him; but Jon’s general prickly-ness and overall dislike of socialising had translated to never quite getting close to anyone other than Tim. Eventually, she had found out from Tim that “he had been going through a difficult time after Danny” and that “late nights of shared research were just what he needed”. While he had never elaborated more than that, she had mostly deduced it was probably to how Jon seemed to know on some level that someone had encountered something they couldn’t explain. For as much as he disparaged the vast majority of cases they were assigned in Research (and rightly so if Sasha were being honest), he always seemed to pick up on who in Research had a mystery they were trying to find information on. Tim had eventually settled into Smirke’s Architecture and the history of Russian circuses, Sasha quickly had taken up research into alternative ways to document the paranormal when modern technology fell short, Isabella three desks away was constantly muttering about how she could never find information about how to get starlings to stop spying on people, and of course Jon himself was patently obsessed with Jurgen Leitner’s Library. All of them, Jon seemed to know just how to avoid talking about their problems without coming off as insensitive (or at least no more insensitive than he was towards anyone else. Not like how most people were about Sasha when she had first joined Research). But all this meant that Jon’s trust was fairly dependable once you had it... until you didn’t. See, while she had never seen or heard of Jon losing trust in someone, she could guess it wouldn’t be pretty. Once he trusted someone, he was very loyal, and it was an honour that Sasha was happy to say she had. But see, now she was worried that those months of reaching out through Tim and on her own time might come to naught because the only thing that seemed to trump her ties to everyone but Tim was her curiosity.

So with anxiety churning in her gut, and a caffeine addiction to feed, she and Tim waited for a bit by a bus stop before making their way to a coffee shop a 20 minute ride away. Seeing as they had some time to kill before their shift started, one would think they would have at least tried to talk over what had happened, but Tim was very firmly not speaking at the moment. Which was fair, Sasha understood he was definitely just as nervous as she was over what Jon was going to say to them once they were finally back in the Institute. And, she was also not feeling very chatty at the moment either. So it came as a surprise, when over an hour later on their way back to the Institute, Tim finally spoke up while they waited for the next bus to arrive.

“Jon’s going to murder us, isn’t he?” Sasha looked over.

“You think?” She asked, gently probing for more information.

“God… Why did we think that was a good idea? He was probably going to listen to another tape with us soon anyways!” Tim placed his head in his hands, frustration coming off him in waves.

“Was he? Or was he going to record another Statement that would take him out for another week?” Because that was the problem, wasn’t it? Jon would only let them listen to the tapes if he was in the room, and since the tapes had such an adverse effect on him, there was only so many opportunities to listen to them in a week because of those two things. And sure, they could wait to find out what was on those tapes even longer than they were already waiting, but that other Jon could wake any day now, and they had barely gotten to even 1% of the available material that explained why he was here. (Sasha knew that the tapes would explain it. Why else would they have even appeared if they weren't there to explain the other Jon had appeared with them?) Surely their Jon understood the importance of getting through those tapes? Except he didn't for some reason, and while it had barely been two weeks, Sasha was already feeling like taking matters into her own hands.

Tim looked over at Sasha. "C'mon Sash, you know we should have just talked it over with him first. Even if he would have denied us, at least we would have an actual reason to then stick it to our asshole boss."

Sasha let out a frustrated sigh, but before she could say anything their bus arrived. She decided it wasn't worth pushing him on it, particularly since they were both still so wound up waiting to find out what was awaiting them at work.

-

Jon had tried to pull himself together in the hour extra he had to work with that would normally be spent preparing and commuting to work. However, his productivity was frankly horrendous, because as he well knew from university, interrupted sleep (like he had gotten) was far worse for his ability to concentrate than just pulling an all-nighter and taking a nap later. Also, he was thoroughly distracted trying not to obsess over why his two trusted assistants had broken into the Institute in the early hours of the morning. Not that them breaking into buildings was entirely unexpected, nor was it necessarily the first time they had technically been in the building when they were not supposed to be. He was just very confused why they had done it this time. While in a scenario that they were coming in to work extremely early to work on research he could understand (it would not be the first time he himself had done something similar), it was extraordinarily out of character for both Tim and Sasha to come in together as early as they did. And of course, this was disregarding the obvious: that they were dressed head to foot in black clothing so as to be as hard to spot as possible when breaking and entering. Jon wasn’t stupid. He knew they were trying to find something in the Archives. He was more than 50% certain they were looking for the mysterious tapes that had appeared with his clone. (He had decided to keep them under his cot that night. Just in case. Apparently it was a good thing he had.) He just could not grasp why now? It was after the weekend, and despite his lack of energy, he still was planning on listening to tape 004 soon. Despite being thoroughly conflicted over whether he truly wanted to know what was on the tapes or not, he knew the others had significantly fewer qualms over the contents of the tapes. So he supposed perhaps they finally were tired of his waffling? 

He really would just have to find out from them, wouldn't he? But on that point, he was reminded that his assistants were beginning to arrive by a quiet knock at his door. "Come in!" He called, glancing up at the clock to see it was only 8 and he wasn't truly expecting his assistants till 9. With a quiet creak, the door cracked open to show the friendly face of Martin.

"G'morning Jon." Martin finished entering the room and slowly approached Jon's desk. With Jon looking on, Martin left the cup on an empty part of the desk while asking, "how are you doing?"

Jon let himself sigh as he slouched into his chair. "I have been better. Please remind Tim and Sasha to stop by my office once they arrive." 

Martin gave him a shocked look. "Wait, are they in trouble?"

Jon shot him a look of severe disappointment. "It is none of your concern. But, I am sure they will tell you afterwards of course. However," he rubbed at his lower lids to try and relieve some of the stress. "You will find that despite what I have said, I am willing to reassess my initial judgement of your work."

Martin blinked in shock, wondering just exactly what could have happened over the weekend to cause this sudden change. "W-well, I'll be sure to send them your way! Oh yeah, and I left my work from last week in your ‘to be reviewed’ pile before I left. I-If you wanted t-to know…”

Jon nodded absentmindedly, already having seen and reviewed said files back on Saturday. Instead, he sipped at his tea while pointedly going over the work he had set aside for himself to start on that morning from the night before. Martin seemed to get the hint, because the next time Jon looked up he was gone. It was then Jon allowed himself to enjoy the tea, still somewhat surprised even 2 weeks on what Martin was capable of when it came to brewing tea. He somewhat disingenuously pondered if the expertise came from potentially working as a barista before working in the Library, but quickly discarded it as unimportant to what he was currently working on.

.

Between the tea and the busywork, the rest of the hour before Tim and Sasha were due to arrive passed him by in what felt like a blink of an eye. In what seemed like no time at all, there was another knock on his door, and he knew it would be Tim and Sasha on the other side as he glanced up at the clock to see the time. With a firm “Come in,” his two assistants shuffled into the room; Sasha staring him in the eyes almost daringly, and Tim looking anywhere but. Jon steepled his fingers, hoping to hide more of his expression so that they couldn’t tell just how indecisive he was still over what to do with them now that they were in his office. He knew he was supposed to reprimand them, at least that’s what he assumed one should do when your subordinates broke into your shared workplace and seemed to be looking for something to potentially pilfer. But how to go about it was a relatively giant mystery to him. He mentally cursed Elias for giving him literally no training and expecting him to operate an entire department (even if his entire department was 4 people strong). 

Another problem quickly became apparent when Sasha and Tim stood awkwardly in front of his desk with only one chair to potentially sit upon. He mentally cursed Gertrude for not keeping multiple chairs for potential statement givers in her office before remembering that part of the transfer had been clearing out the damaged office supplies from her “falling in the line of duty”, and that it was technically his job as department head to order more. He obviously had not had time to take inventory beyond what he needed immediately to do the one thing Elias had requested, which was to digitise the Archives. So of course new chairs for the head archivist office had fallen to the bottom of that list, and now it was suddenly a problem. With a deep sigh he went back to rubbing at his eyes. Damn, he was tired. “I would invite you to sit, but as you can see, I am short extra chairs in here. If one of you would be so kind as to pull your desk chair for this meeting, feel free. Otherwise I hope not to keep you too long.”

When neither Tim nor Sasha left to grab their desk chair, Jon straightened up and cleared his throat. “Right, in that case if you wouldn’t mind at least closing the door we can get started.” Tim went and closed the door to the office, and Jon caught from between Tim’s arm, his body, and the door a glimpse of a curious Martin looking up from his desk. With a click his view was cut off, and Tim returned to standing in front of Jon’s desk, looking as uncomfortable as Jon felt. “Thank you Tim. Now,”

Jon glowered up at the both of them. “Since we have the time to discuss last night, would you both care to explain what you were doing breaking into the Archives?”

Tim decided to start first with, “Well boss, you see, we were having a grand old time at the pub Friday night and…”

“Get to the point Tim.”

Tim huffed. “I was going to get you the background, but sure whatever. Well in that case…”

Sasha jumped in. “We wanted to listen to the next tape!” still staring Jon directly in the eyes as if daring him to find fault in their purpose. 

"I had wondered if that was the case. But that leads me to another question. Why would you do this now ? I have been quite clear that we will listen to the tapes as we are able while still completing our jobs. In fact I had been hoping to listen to tape 004 either today or tomorrow, as I managed to record a new tape myself. Hopefully we can see how close they match up." Jon tried not to let the hurt confusion leak through, and instead heavily focused on sounding disappointed. It admittedly wasn't very hard to do.

"Were you Jon? Were you really?" Asked Sasha, her own frustration beginning to take hold. "Or were you going to record another Statement that won't record to digital and collapse on us for another week?"

Jon pinched his nose hard before going back to folding his hands in front of him on the desk. "Sasha, need I remind you that we are here for the statements already here, and not the already completed ones that literally appeared out of nowhere? There is no rush to listen to them, and I reserve the right as head of this archive to restrict access to them if I feel they are becoming a distraction."

"Jon, we literally listened to one on our lunch break last Monday. They are not a hindrance to our work, and if anything listening to them on our breaks will help us focus on our “actual jobs”. Plus!” Sasha took a fortifying breath. "I think there's something unnatural going on down here related to why you're always looking like you've been attacked by a vampire after recording or listening to the tapes. And I think those weird tapes have the answer, which we'll need sooner than later." Sasha left it unspoken that the only reason they were having this conversation was because Jon was holding them back from finding those answers, but it was apparent to everyone in the room that was what she was saying.

"Ms. James, this is an archive. There is nothing untoward happening down here other than Gertrude Robinson's penchant for making a mess. And I will hear no more to the contrary." Then Jon turned to Tim, who had kept to himself, and asked, “Tim, are you in agreement with Ms. James’ assessment?”

Tim looked put upon, but seemed to harden his resolve as he said, “Yah boss, actually I think I do agree with Sasha. We’re supposed to be able to help you! If you’re keeping us from doing that, what's the point of even asking for us to help you down here in the first place?!"

Jon refused to let any of his many feelings other than disappointment show as he took a steadying breath. "I see." He replied after gathering himself. "It is unfortunate you felt the need to break into the Institute after hours to make your point, instead of just coming to me to talk about it. I had hoped that I could trust the two of you to not act so thoughtlessly." It was difficult for Jon to keep up the facade, but he just needed to get his verdict out and then he could lock himself in his office the rest of the morning. For luck, Tim and Sasha were actually just standing there acting like proper subordinates. "Because this was your first major infraction, I will merely send Elias an email explaining what happened and that I have things well under control. What will happen here is you will go back to your desks and work on the cases I assign you till lunch. Then the 4 of us will sit down and discuss a schedule for listening to these tapes, because obviously we should have already discussed this if it was going to cause such an issue. You will not attempt to steal the tapes again, because otherwise I will get Elias personally involved. Do I make myself clear?"

Both Sasha and Tim nodded, Sasha looking like she got mostly what she wanted anyways, and Tim looking a touch more thoughtful than before. Then with a wave of his hand, Jon shooed them out the door. "Good. Now, if you will, I'm sure you have plenty to do out there." Jon paused, realising he had forgotten that Sasha was done with her workload, and that Tim was almost done. "Ah, just a moment. Here-" he pulled out two short stacks of folders from the piles swamping his desk. "A pile for each of you. Feel free to divvy them as you wish amongst yourselves. The two piles are due by the end of the week with at least the bare minimum of research done on them for veracity. Please send back any that don't record, as always." As he spoke, he handed off a pile to each of them, and watched as they flipped through some of the files. Once he was done, they both nodded in understanding. Tim then gave his usual two fingered salute on his way out the door, and Sasha wished him well till lunch. He once again waved a dismissive hand as they closed the door, and he was finally alone with his thoughts.

Jon felt the dam break, and he shoved the papers on his desk out of the way of his frustrated tears. He crossed his arms and covered his face, not wanting to even face his office as the lingering feeling of being watched marginally increased. He hoped that whatever was behind the feeling was enjoying the show (it was just his paranoia, no one was behind it, but that didn't stop the feeling). 

Oh what must Tim and Sasha think of him if they were actively doubting his word enough to do something so rash? He does his job once instead of listening to the tapes, and suddenly Sasha seems to think he would keep the tapes hidden from them forever? That he would willingly endanger them in his hubris? It hurt to think that his friendship with them had been so easily discarded. He desperately needed the help his coworkers provided, but somehow in 2 weeks he had already managed to lose them. Or if not lose them, then become a very dislikable boss.

Breathe, just breathe… Perhaps he was just overblowing things. Sasha had only cited concern that he was prioritising the wrong part of their work for their current situation. Not that he disagreed with her necessarily that there was something strange going on in the Archives. He knew the constant feeling of being watched was abnormal. He knew that being physically exhausted from just recording or listening to obviously haunted tapes was not normal. But if he acknowledged it, that would make it real. If he acknowledged it, it would Know. Best to ignore the obvious. But if Sasha had a point about them being safer knowing more about their workplace and the horrors surrounding them… No, even if she did, it would be better for them if they listened to the tapes as a group when Jon was physically fit, and ignored the implications of that for as long as possible. Additionally, Elias would surely catch on that they were not actively recording Statements to tape if they stopped recording completely. Some part of Jon wanted beyond everything else to make sure Elias did not catch on to this one thing, and while he couldn’t say what part that was, he was more than happy to pretend that it had always been his intention.

But what might have hurt more, despite how impassioned Sasha was, was Tim’s accusation that he was ignoring his assistants. Sure, he had been trying to keep Sasha and Tim at arm’s length since they had transferred, attempting to enforce their new dynamic as their boss. But he didn’t want to completely alienate them in the process! It was just a rough patch for them all as they settled in the Archives, and Jon was just trying to focus on getting a system figured out to try and make the long term sorting of statements work. Even if he had no idea what he was doing (not that he would ever admit to it). Even if a strange copy of himself appeared a week into the nightmare that was the boxes of unsorted statements and brought with it 200 tapes with presumably his voice on them. Even if the future had seemingly broken into the past with a vengeance and carried more mysteries than he wanted to ever consider.

Because if there was one thing he staunchly refused to think about (ie his mind went to whenever he wasn’t keeping busy), it was how abused his copy looked. It was how his body had looked stretched out in a hospital bed hooked to beeping machines and paler than most dead bodies. It was how he was more scar than man, how his hair was beginning to thin in earnest and mostly grey. Jon shuddered to think at what could have happened, and he felt deep in his bones that he would find out if they listened to the tapes.

He just hoped that despite his hesitance, they could come to an agreement about the tapes, and that he wouldn’t lose Tim and Sasha over something so trivial. Martin was not an acceptable replacement for the years of camaraderie he had shared with Tim and Sasha, and he refused to let such an incompetent imbecile become his only lifeline in a job he was coming to realise might eventually give him the answers he needed.

Chapter Text

Martin had a sneaking suspicion that Tim and Sasha had decided to go through with their plan from Friday. It was about the only thing that might have explained the strange mood Jon had been in when Martin had gotten to the office an hour early to make tea, as well as the subdued entrance of the two when they arrived on time. However, when he didn’t hear any yelling coming from the office, he hoped that meant that they hadn’t actually done anything stupid and Jon had just wanted them for new assignments or something. While he had gotten most of his assignments in before leaving like he had planned, he still had some extra, long-term assignments that Jon had assigned him to work on. So Martin found himself quite content to not have been called in for any extra work that morning if that was actually why Tim and Sasha had gone into Jon's office right away upon their arrival.

After a not insignificant amount of time, Sasha and Tim left Jon’s office and went back to their seats, both carrying new stacks of folders. Sasha waved at him, and Martin felt settled on the idea that they had just been in for new assignments before she opened her mouth.

“Morning Martin! Guess what? Jon’s actually going to talk with us about what to do with the tapes at lunch!”

Martin blinked in surprise, and then gave a small smile. “Ah-, that’s g-good I suppose?”

Sasha looked over at Tim, and noticing he was still staring blankly at his desk top, turned back to Martin with a laugh and a shrug. “Of course! Or I think so, at least. I guess me and Tim breaking into the Institute this morning looking for them was enough of a wake up call that he’s willing to negotiate on a time table.”

Martin was immediately flabbergasted by this. “You broke into the Institute??? You actually went through with your plan?? What the fuck you two?!”

Tim flinched minutely, though Martin barely noticed as Sasha brushed away his concerns. "It turned out fine! Jon gave us our warning and homework so to say, and we'll be working out the rest over lunch."

Martin scoffed at this, but couldn't find anything to refute her with. “Well, I just hope you’re both happy with the results.” 

Sasha gave a defiant nod and Tim seemed to suddenly focus on looking busy. Martin sighed in response but honestly wasn't surprised. If there was one thing he was learning about his coworkers, they were all of them stubborn to the core in their own ways. "Guess we should join Tim in being busy then till lunch."

Sasha finally gave Tim a proper look over, and seemed briefly remorseful before she covered it up in her usual look of concentration as she went to work. And with that, the three of them worked in their usual silence for about an hour or two, before Tim groaned dramatically. 

“Oi! Martin!”

“Eep!” Martin looked over at Tim, startled by the sudden address.

“You mind if I play some music?”

“I-I mean… sure? D-depends I guess on if it’s okay with Jon-”

“P-shaw, he’ll be fine! Nothing we didn’t do already back in Research. Plus he’s got a door now, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“W-well then… I guess if you’re sure…”

“Positive.”

Martin shrugged. “Then sure, don’t see why not then.”

With that, Tim seemed back to his normal self. Surprisingly he did not end up cranking the volume that Martin had expected of him. Instead he quietly put on some kind of indie band with a lead singer that almost sounded familiar… Martin wanted to ask, but he knew now wasn’t the time and contented himself with letting the sounds of singers and guitar and… was that a penny whistle??? Whatever it was, he found himself subconsciously nodding along while he focused on the work from last week that was due by the end of this one.

Time flew by, and before any of them realised, it was already quarter past eleven. Sasha was the first to notice and quickly began organising her things for lunch. Tim quickly caught on, and called over to Martin to let him know they were going to start setting up for lunch. Martin hummed back, and went about finishing up what he was working on; and by the time he was in the breakroom and brewing up some tea, Sasha was escorting a very disgruntled looking Jon into the room towards the table. Martin hid his face over the electric kettle, fighting to hide the sudden blush at seeing his very attractive boss looking vaguely dishevelled. He gently scolded himself as Tim followed in behind Sasha and Jon with the box of tapes, and somewhat unceremoniously placed the box beside where Jon was being gently cajoled to sit. It took all of Martin's will power to school his face as he portioned out the hot water into mugs while behind him he could hear the raucous back and forth between Sasha and Tim. He did his best to push away the mental image of a dishevelled Jon grumpily sorting through the tapes, because he knew that whatever his heart was trying to tell him, his brain was screaming that this was probably the worst possible moment to have a crush. He wondered for a moment why it was now he was suddenly acutely aware of his boss before remembering that Jon had told him he was getting a second chance and suddenly the dots connected.

By the time Martin had finally gotten their tea divvied up, and his lunch pulled from the fridge, he was back to his regular self. Additionally, everyone else had already begun chatting by the time he had settled, so he was able to enjoy at least Tim and Sasha chatting, even if Jon seemed to be sitting more stiffly and silently than usual. (Not that it was necessarily a surprise, but it made him feel uneasy about the encroaching discussion.) Their peace lasted till everyone had finished their food, and as they were cleaning up Jon spoke up at last.

"Right, since Tim and Sasha were both rather insistent this morning that I address what we do with the tapes, and since Tim was so generous as to bring them with us on break, let us discuss a general timeline for listening to them." Tim, who had been up putting his lunch box away, quickly hurried back to the table at the announcement. Jon, seeing everyone at table, did his best to look professional. Personally, Martin thought this man in his late 30s looked rather intimidating already, so he really didn't need to try harder.

With that Jon began what seemed to be a script he had written in his head. “As I honestly do not feel comfortable with any of us being on a different page about what is on the tapes,” if Martin were a cynical man, he would guess that Jon was just trying to justify them not listening to the tapes without him. “And as it has come to my attention that due to personal limitations I cannot currently interact with more than two Statements a week that are only recordable to tape, including these tapes, the maximum number of tapes a week we can do is two. However ,” Jon glared over as Sasha. “Before anyone gets any ideas, we still have a job to do that includes recording paper Statements to tape. That part is non-negotiable, and needs to happen at least once a week.” Jon steepled his fingers, turning his attention to the room at large. “So if you are amenable, I plan to listen to a tape today, and make Mondays our official tape days. I will record a paper Statement on either Thursday or Friday, and this will be our schedule till such a time if I am ever less limited.”

Sasha nodded enthusiastically, and exclaimed, "sounds like a great plan Jon! I'll keep you to that."

Tim gave a thumbs up and added, "no complaints here boss! Just excited to learn more about your body double."

Jon turned to look at Martin since he had not tried to speak for basically the entire (if short) meeting. He thought over Jon's stipulations and thought them exceedingly fair. If anything he knew the only reason they weren't listening to tapes every 2 weeks was because Jon's latent curiosity would murder him if not indulged. That and Sasha might finally decide to quit and steal the tapes on her way out if what he was learning about her recently was anything to go by.

"F-fine by me!" As soon as fine had been said, Jon had looked away, not even caring to listen to the last two words. Martin wasn't surprised, but bitterly wondered for a moment whatever happened to giving him a second chance? But that didn’t matter, as the other three converged on the box of tapes.

-

Jon thought that the meeting went flawlessly. He hadn’t been expecting that, but perhaps his assistants really did just want to listen to the tapes in an agreed upon schedule? Must be. But that now led him to the agreed upon job at hand, listening to the next tape. As he went to pull 004 out of the box, he found himself oddly hesitant. He guessed it might be that he wasn't looking forward to the drain of the tape after only just recovering from the last one. On the plus side, the tapes seemed to drain him a smidgeon less than their paper counterparts when he went to record them, so he was sure he'd be recording another paper Statement to tape by Thursday without too much trouble. But after his moment of hesitation, Jon slid the tape labelled 004 into the recorder.

Immediately, he felt his stomach drop out as the other him mentioned that the Statement was about a book. Jon was certain he knew whose name would be listed in the front cover. However as soon as he thought that he was immersed in his own voice, achingly curious to know more about this tale of dread. But he did note that this tape did not match up with the one he had recorded on Friday.

He was unsurprised to hear his speculations quickly confirmed, and felt his frustrations vindicated from his time in Research as dead end after dead end piled up for all the man’s efforts. However he did note the username of the deactivated account, as well as the name of the Leitner it bought. He figured if he couldn't find anything on it, perhaps Sasha might be able to find something about who that was looking for Leitners. He also noted to tell the others if they relistened to this that they should prioritise finding this paper copy in the Archives when they had the time to go looking.

After that though, the Statement quickly took a turn, with the introduction of Pinhole Books and the ever mysterious Gerard Keay and his mother. The Statement wound it’s way through the bookshop and the giver’s apartment and past, before finally ending with the sudden arrival of Gerard Keay to burn the book.

And now came the part that Jon found himself looking most forwards to. Now that the Statement proper was done, his other self moved on to the team’s findings. To the shock of his assistants, he was sure, the other Jon proceeded to be completely credulous of the entire statement and deep dove into the Leitner itself along with the ever enigmatic Gerard Keay. He was a bit puzzled for a moment as to why he would claim that Leitners only ever were attached to grimoires and the like, but then remembered that had been what he had discovered in Research: that all known Leitners the Institute had found up till now had been various cursed tomes on arcane knowledge. Thus, to everyone else, it would be odd if he had insider knowledge about Leitners such that there were more than just what had been reported since the 90s. Of course, with his specific experience with the books, he knew anyone claiming to have found one would not be lying. People did not know about them unless they encountered them. There was no information about them online other than as a footnote that the library they came from collapsed in the mid-90s and were scattered to the 4 winds.

Having finished the thought, he was met with now familiar click as the tape reached its end, and the unfortunately just as familiar feeling of his energy deserting him. He let out a quiet sigh and slouched back into the wobbly break room chair he had commandeered for their lunch.

Tim looked triumphant as he leaned over to Martin and “whispered”, “told you he always believes reports about Leitners!” Martin rolled his eyes and Sasha merely continued to look thoughtfully into the middle distance.

“I never doubted you, just thought it was odd was all.” Martin retorted, giving Tim a small smile. “I mean of all supernatural things to get caught up on, why just the books by this one guy?” Upon seeing Jon’s mouth opening to retort, Martin quickly backpedalled. “I mean, I get it! I get it now! A-at least a little.” Seeing Jon now sinking back into his chair, Martin gave a silent sigh of relief. Tim gave Martin an amused look, which he rolled his eyes at.

"If you're done criticising my methods, I think it would behove us to examine what we know, and what our next steps should be." Jon gave the room at large a tired grimace. "Starting off, I think we should see if we can find this statement along with any other statements that we've heard on tape."

"You already cross checked the ones in the unrecordable pile in your office already?" asked Tim, knowing that Jon normally was exactingly thorough but would occasionally overlook the obvious if it didn't align with his preconceptions.

Jon nodded. "While I will have to double check them again today for this tape, I was able to find tape 002's statement, but not 003's. This discrepancy might indicate minor differences between the tapes and us, or it might indicate that during the time between those recordings we had time to find more unrecordable statements and I prioritised the newer ones. As it stands though, I would prefer to find this one as I would like Sasha to look into the username that was mentioned."

At her name being mentioned, Sasha snapped out of her thoughts and focused into Jon. "Not sure what you'll be wanting me to do about it," she commented. "Statement said the username's been deactivated since at least 4 years ago." 

Jon looked mildly perturbed. "I will admit, some of the more technical aspects of researching online elude me, but I was hoping you would be willing to see what you could pull up anyways."

Sasha nodded hesitantly, honestly doubting her alternate self wouldn't have thought of looking into that. And if she had looked, she obviously hadn't found anything substantial enough to include in the report. But if the Statement turned up, she could say that the challenge did sound rather refreshing compared to the usual grey hat work she did on the job and at her previous position in Research. "I've been thinking, actually, about your comments at the end. It sounds like you pushed us on this one, and you were even planning on bothering Elias about it.”

Jon blinked slowly at her, seemingly confused at what she was getting at. “I mean you never went to Grace about your concerns with the Leitners when we were still in Research. And it’s not like there weren’t times when it wouldn’t have been completely unwarranted either, but to go to the head of the Institute and petition Elias to change company policy??” Sasha couldn’t keep a straight face at the ridiculousness of the idea, even if the two Jons weren’t so different from each other. She allowed herself a giggle. “I know you’re department head now, but after one statement about a Leitner that doesn’t fit the cookie cutter you decide to go all the way to the top about one supernatural threat?”

Jon slowly stiffened in his chair, looking more visibly uncomfortable as she went on. At Sasha’s giggle, he sat ramrod straight, irritation pouring off him in waves as she finished. He had honestly thought better of Sasha, despite what had happened that morning. While objectively all she was doing was pointing out something that the other him had done, and technically wasn’t something he had done, they both knew that Sims and him weren’t too different if at all. If given a chance, he honestly probably would go to Elias about an errant Leitner, and request he more seriously consider the Institute’s attitude toward them; seeing as the current policy was just “find out what it does before we lock it away forever in Artefact Storage”. It was the kind of recklessness that would get people killed, and there was a reason there was a constant rumour that if someone was hired as temp in Artefact Storage, they probably weren’t getting another job. But what really got to Jon was that while Sasha was objectively correct that it was horrendously presumptuous for the head of a department to try and change company policy through the Head of the Institute; Elias himself, since he had first called Jon up to his office to tell him of the opportunity to be head of the Archives, had encouraged him to lead the Archives in whatever way he saw fit. Elias had even told Jon to come to him with whatever concerns he might have, and to consider his office doors open to him. It was the kind of disconnect that Jon could see leading him to bringing something he found this urgent to the Head of the Institute’s doorstep.

But, Jon was terrible at getting his thoughts out of his head in a way that didn’t come off as horrendously rude even at the best of times. He was hurt as well, that Sasha would think that he would bring something of little value to Elias. So between these two factors, it was unsurprising that he said in return, “Sasha, I will have you know I take all credible supernatural threats seriously. As such, it is my duty as head of a department to bring concerns like this to Elias directly, seeing as he gave me implicit direction to. However, since you seem to think so little of my ability to prioritise the proper concerns, you may enjoy searching the stacks for our missing 004 Statement till either you find it or we listen to tape 005 to prove me wrong.”

After this, Jon turned to the other shocked assistants. “And as for you two; seeing as you both were kind enough to not insult my intelligence, you can decide whether you would like to help Sasha search the stacks or catch up on your own projects which are still due on my desk before the end of the week. And yes Tim, you and Sasha will need both of those stacks I gave you done by the end of Friday as I asked of you this morning.” With that, he pushed himself away from the table and stalked back to his office.

“Now wait just a moment!” angrily shouted Tim, trying to follow Jon back to his office, but unable to stop him from slamming the door in his face. “You absolute prick! Get back out here!”

Martin rushed to his side, nervously but purposefully placing himself between Tim and the door to Jon’s office. “Tim, you need to s-stop.”

Tim glared up at him. “What I need is for the boss to get his head out of his ass.”

Martin kept eye contact, though he kept his expression relaxed even if he wasn’t sure how to handle this man at all. “I know Tim, but Sasha will be fine looking for the Statement, especially since I know both of us will be helping her. We know the call number and everything, so it’s just a matter of looking through the tops of the piles we were planning on getting to soon anyways! We know it can’t be buried too deep since this is only the 4th Statement other Jon put to tape.”

Tim slowly let his shoulders and posture fall as Martin talked him down. Eventually, he nodded and added, “Fine fine… you’re right. And hey, I know Jon’s been on your back about the reports so if you need the time, Sasha and I have the search covered till you’re done.”

“A-are you sure?”

Tim nodded emphatically. “Sasha’ll understand, and besides if we take too long you’ll be helping us anyways.”

Martin sighed, but nodded back and wandered back to his desk. Tim instead went back to check on Sasha in the breakroom, and managed to catch her still glaring at the table top. He knew that if he did anything else, it would almost inevitably end with him back in front of Jon's door. Then again it still might, but if there was one thing Sasha was good at doing even when she was feeling bad herself, it was talking him down from making actual mistakes (unless it was something she wanted to do herself, then no one was usually able to stop them). But first things first, helping Sasha, since Jon was being more of a prick than usual. (The rational part of Tim couldn't blame him. He had just had to deal with them breaking and entering their workplace. The rest of Tim very much could, and did blame him for being a child about something that wasn't even a direct accusation.)

He sat beside Sasha and gently gave her a shoulder pat, to which she scooted closer and leaned into his shoulder in return. While they had an unspoken something in Research, they hadn’t had time to talk about it before they followed Jon to the Archives. Of course, now that they were in the Archives, there never seemed to be a break in both the work and the intrigue, so Tim didn’t see them talking over what their friendship was turning into any time soon. But while they were by themselves, it was nice to just soak in the presence of the other. And to Sasha’s credit, she didn’t seem to be the kind of person to put a name to what they had, seemingly content enough in the moment. Tim gently went from shoulder to shoulder, wrapping his arm around her. They sat in silence for awhile after that, quietly stewing in their own thoughts.

For as angry as Tim had felt in the moment, he knew that Jon was just trying to do his job like the rest of them, even when it was patently obvious he didn't have the first clue what he was supposed to be doing. Plus, lest he forget, Jon had just had an incredibly hectic morning between being woken by him and Sasha breaking into the Institute and having to listen to a tape. Then again, none of that was an excuse for Jon to lash out at Sasha and give her the equivalent of an impossible task mixed with busy work for just pointing out a possible problem with Sims' actions. That was the big thing that had been bothering him since Jon's promotion. Sasha was the obvious choice, hands down. She had done some minor unofficial interning under Gertrude, had worked in Artefact Storage, and had hands on experience in the Archives. Versus Jon who had basically been a Researcher from the moment he had graduated uni and whom Tim hadn't even thought had applied for the position in the Archives before they were being told that Jon was being promoted and was asking for them to join him. Tim had initially figured that Jon just wanted the only two people he knew other than Mr. Bouchard to help him, but he hadn't realised how on the nose that would be. He had hoped that maybe Jon had some secret archival experience that Bouchard knew about that they didn't that had caused him to overlook Sasha's credentials. But no, it was just Jon from Research suddenly being moved to the Archives and acting like he hadn't been moved at all. It was literally just research but impossible at times because the statements were so old that there was no way to follow up on them. And of course, Jon had brought with him his patented scepticism, there to tear anything apart that wasn't about a Leitner. Honestly, Tim could not for the life of him figure out why Bouchard promoted Jon over Sasha other than perhaps some kind of sexism. And if that was the case, Jon should have denied the promotion, not taken it and then said nothing to them about it till Bouchard was literally calling them to his office to sign the transfer paperwork. Tim tried to tell himself that he would give Jon a fair shot, and he had been for the most part, but with the sudden addition of these spooky tapes, and having to drag the unconscious and bleeding body of Jon out of Document Storage; Tim was finding his patience for Jon's waspishness significantly decreased. And now with Sasha mentioning that she's been having a "feeling" about the tapes… well Tim's definitely still on the fence about them but he's beginning to be convinced of their imminent importance at the very least.

“Do you think we went too far this morning?” asked Sasha, still staring blankly at the room around her.

Tim huffed a laugh and gently squeezed her shoulder again. “A bit.” When Sasha didn’t respond Tim brought his other hand up to gently card through her ginger hair. “But he was a prick this afternoon, so I’d say you’re even.”

Sasha finally let out a sigh and relaxed just a bit more onto him, and Tim was suddenly reminded of the idiom about bodies fitting like puzzle pieces. “It’s just…” She paused again as she seemed to formulate how she wanted to say her thoughts. “I think we really breached Jon’s trust this time.”

“Well, he also just recorded a tape on Friday, and listened to a tape this afternoon. We know that he gets weird after that.”

“Yeah, but I think I really fucked us over this time.”

They sat in silence a moment before Tim remembered something from a week previously. “Sash! I have the best idea ever for getting everyone back on the same page!”

Sasha looked up from where she had laid her head against his shoulder. She squinted up at him in scepticism as she asked, “will this be like most of your other plans?”

Tim waved away her concerns with a smile. “Trust me, you’ll love this. Remember how Martin’s got a birthday coming up? And how we knew we needed to find a way to plan a birthday party? Welllll~ While he’s a little skittish yet, we could go out for ice cream instead! Make it an Archives bonding exercise on Saturday and drag the boss out of the dungeon for an afternoon.”

Sasha perked up a bit at this and seemed to think it over. “Yeah… Yeah! Ice cream would be perfect!” Then with an expression that only looked a little strained, but mostly mischievous, she added, “And if we can get Jon on a tangent, we can get excellent pictures of a certain someone pining methinks.” Tim felt his brain blue screen for a moment.

“Wait a moment Sash, are you implying Martin has a crush on one of us?!” Honestly, he never would have guessed that Martin might have been crushing on someone. Then again, he was always strangely flustered and handing out perfectly brewed cups of tea, but Tim had just assigned that to Martin’s overall generosity.

Sasha’s mischievous look only looked more sincere as she said, “ Maybe~ Maybe not! I guess we’ll both have to find out at our upcoming ice cream social.”

Tim was still confused, but decided there were worse things to be confused about. Instead, he realised one flaw in his brilliant plan. They actually needed to find some way of convincing Jon to join them on Saturday. If their normal camaraderie wasn't currently in shambles, Tim would have just assumed that they would have told him Wednesday or something and it would be fine. But with how deep of a hole they had managed to dig for themselves… well maybe Martin could ask if Jon wanted to come along? Tim discarded that thought, as having Martin ask Jon to join them on his own birthday ice cream social might send the wrong message. Tim figured that since it was mostly Sasha who had pissed Jon off, maybe he would have a chance to convince Jon to come along if he played his cards right. Meh, he had a few days to get a plan worked out.

Sasha gently prodded his cheek with a single finger, and Tim was quickly brought out of his musings to raise an eyebrow at her. “Yes Ms. James?”

She smiled a more gentle smile than before and replied, “You were thinking too loudly again.”

Tim felt himself give a glowing smile in return. “Just trying to figure out how we’re going to invite the rest of the office to our shindig. Figured Martin would be simple enough, but for Jon I could pour on some Stoker charm.” Tim gave her a wink as he said it, and in response she playfully swatted his arm.

“Tim!” He put up his hands in mock surrender and they settled back into their separate chairs just a bit farther apart than before. “Well, I’m sure he’ll accept when you ask him. I don’t think he’ll want to let things settle like they are, and you’ve known him the longest, so you’d have the best chance at convincing him to come along in the first place.” With that Sasha stretched out her limbs, seemingly getting ready to go back to her work. “In any case, wish me luck! Time for me to return to the stacks to search for the elusive Statement of tape 004.”

Tim nodded and began to get up himself. “I’ll join you then.” Before Sasha could protest Tim continued. “I can work on our stacks tomorrow! After all, if we find the Statement today, we’ll have the rest of this week to work on our assignments like we had initially planned this morning.” With that Sasha conceded, and the two of them spent the rest of the afternoon looking fruitlessly for the missing Statement. When Martin began packing up to leave, Tim and Sasha admitted their failure, and the three of them headed their separate ways: Sasha and Martin back to their flats, and Tim on his triweekly visit to Sims’ bedside.

Chapter Text

Tim had decided to try and visit Sims at least 3 times a week. If asked why he had decided to do this, he would have jokingly replied that he needed his second boss to sign off on his work since the one signature obviously wasn’t enough. Or if Tim were asked in a more serious mood, he might reply more honestly that Sims looked a bit lonely with just the hospital staff to check on him. While that was a part of it, a larger part that Tim would never admit to was that seeing his friend’s body double splayed on the floor in a lake of his own blood made an impression. Being the one to initially find Sims and drag him to the bullpen to call 999 made him feel responsible. Knowing that Sims was alone, blind, and potentially at Death’s door with no one but the Archival crew to mourn his passing made him feel things that struck a bit too close to home. There was something about seeing the man he would consider his closest friend looking like he had been put through a mediaeval torture chamber before getting dropped unceremoniously in a back room at his workplace that made him feel like he needed to step up to help in whatever ways he could. And if that help came in the form of visiting frequently and signing up as temporary liaison between Sims and the outside world, then it would be a burden he would carry. (It was also nice to be able to say that he had managed to help save someone from the supernatural. Maybe if Sims turned out okay…)

Either way, he had implemented his plan fairly quickly the week before, though had only managed to visit twice, and never on his own. Now he finally had the opportunity to visit on his own time after work without worrying about keeping up a facade to anyone but the hospital staff. (And if the nurse that worked there during the day had that familiar name and bright smile who looked at him like a stranger that made visiting its own kind of penance, that was neither here nor there).

It was with these thoughts that Tim was preoccupied as he made his way up to Sims' room. He was almost to the room when he was suddenly stopped by Daniel as he passed the nurse's station.

"Ah, sir! A moment of your time, if you please?" Tim stopped and turned back to the station, plastering on a smile.

"Of course! Everything going okay up here?" He noted that Daniel looked more tired than usual, but paradoxically more cheerful.

"Oh, same as usual. Had an interesting case over the weekend that was in and out fairly quickly. But that's not what I wanted to talk with you about." Daniel glanced down the hall where Sims' room was located. "I wanted to warn you that the doctor is with Mr. Doe this evening, and that he isn't accepting visitors today." When the nurse wasn't forthcoming, Tim's smile became strained.

"What, why?"

Daniel looked uncomfortable, then sighed and muttered to himself just barely too quiet for Tim to hear. Then he looked to Tim, and said clearly, "since we didn't have time to prepare for Mr. Doe's rather sudden enucleation, Dr. Doyle is in talks with some of the specialists on staff to do a proper surgery once he's awake so he can be fitted for prosthetics if he would like. Plus, it could help him heal, potentially even mentally." Seeing Tim's scepticism, Daniel explained further. "We've been keeping a close eye on Mr. Doe to make sure that he didn't have any lingering complications from what happened. Since it doesn't appear so, Dr. Doyle made the decision to take the first steps towards a prompt surgery and is with a specialist getting your friend looked over for implants and conformers that will keep more complications away. But they need space to work, you understand."

Tim nodded, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "What was the name of that surgery again? The one you equated the recovery process to?" He figured if he had something to research that wasn't work and could help Sims it was a win/win scenario.

"Ah, enucleation. Evisceration is the other one you could look up, however Mr. Doe's wounds match closer to enucleation, as most of the tissues related to the eye along with his optic nerves were lost." At Tim's grimace Daniel looked apologetic. "Erm, my apologies, that was rather too blunt. Would you like me to write those down for you?"

Tim shook his head. "Nah mate, I think I can remember that, but thank you for the information! Will there be a chance to stop by later?"

Daniel shook his head, "no, doctor's orders. If you stop by tomorrow you should have better luck as long as nothing comes up today. Once I hear from the doctor about when he wants to have the surgery, I'll let you know so you can schedule around that as well at some point."

"Aw come on, not even with that overnight lady? You don't think she'd let me in for a short bedside think?"

Daniel chuckled suddenly, and Tim felt his stomach sink. "Ha! You'd have better luck trying to break into the room right now and manage to win over Dr. Doyle than trying to win over Abigail. No offence to you, but she hates the Magnus Institute and anyone that associates with it. And unfortunately for you, she's already well aware of you and your little group and where you're from. She'll have it out for you if any of your bunch tries to stay late, mark my words!"

While in Research, Tim had encountered many people who hated the Institute for one reason or another. So he knew a bit about how to deal with them, and perhaps the nurse was overstating how much his fellow nurse hated the Institute to try and keep him from visiting outside visiting hours. But just to be sure… "So the doctor should be done with checking over Jon by the end of normal visiting hours?"

Daniel sighed. "Probably? He'll hopefully be done by 7, but I'd give him till 10 at the latest. But if you come by at that point they won't even let you past the front desk, I hope you know."

Oh Tim knew that's what they were supposed to do. Doesn't mean he didn't have some tricks up his sleeve for getting in. But, there was also the easier option of… "in that case you wouldn't mind some company on your shift then, would you? Sounds like we both need some time to vent, and what better way than to do that than hang out here?"

Daniel shook his head, and looked almost disappointed. “I really can’t sir. Dr. Doyle expects me to be ready at a moment’s notice, and if I get paged by either him or the nurses down in Emergency I won’t be able to stay to even verbally disengage.” He then gave Tim a once over and nodded to himself. “But if you’re really that insistent, I won’t try to make you leave next time you visit. However, if you stay late enough to deal with Abigail, all I can say is that I warned you.” Here he leaned forwards. “But tonight, I have to insist sir, that if you have no other business here, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Tim put his hands up in surrender, knowing when he was beat, and realising he took things a bit too far again. “Don’t worry, I’m going, I’m going! And thank you, really, for the offer. I’ll probably take you up on it later this week.”

Daniel seemed happy enough with the arrangement and waved Tim off as he left the hospital to head back to his flat. While he was still tempted to get back into the hospital that night, he figured it would be okay to skip one night to instead go do some research about healing from eye removal. And, he didn’t think he was quite ready to meet yet another hater of the Magnus Institute. For all that he did know how to deal with people who hated the Institute, he didn’t enjoy searching them out. Nor did he enjoy people who apparently had it out for him because of his place of employment.

So feeling very overwhelmed and wrong footed, Tim went home and immediately went online to find out more about these eye surgeries that the doctor suddenly seemed intent on. It was predictably disgusting if fascinating, and the accompanying images were a bit too close to things he had seen before. On the plus side, he had a much better idea of what the doctor was trying to accomplish based on what Daniel had outlined. (And wasn’t that just a sucker punch from the past? Sure, Daniel was a fairly common name, but it didn’t help this one had the same smile and was about the same age as Danny was all those years ago when Tim lost him. He might not be as free with his smiles as Danny was, but Tim was sure that was because they were still virtually strangers to each other; brought together in a way that if it weren’t for a cosmic accident, they never would have met.)

Despite the rough night, the next day and a half went smoothly. Nothing major came up, and everyone went back to their new normal after the events of the week previously. Only thing of note was that Sasha and Tim together still had not managed to find the Statement to tape 004, and Martin had finished up his work enough to help do some searching on Wednesday morning. With a case of mild frustration and minor dread from knowing he would need to talk with Jon soon about the weekend, Tim found himself back in the hospital as planned on Wednesday night. The halls were predictably quiet, and this time Daniel merely nodded at him as he walked past to Sims’ room. As expected, Sims laid still and silent in his bed, eyes unnervingly sunken in a way that Tim had been ignoring till it was brought to his attention on Monday. On the more hopeful side, Sims almost looked like he had a bit more colour to him than what Tim remembered. He gave Sims a good look over, searching for signs that the man had been stirring at all, but if he had, the signs were too subtle. So with a huff and the screech of wood on tile, Tim sat in a chair within arm's reach of Sims.

Now sitting beside his boss' doppelganger, Tim decided the best use of his time was ranting about Jon and the Archives. After all, this Jonathan Sims seemed to have had a couple of bad days in the Archives (what part of their job would even lead to this much leftover pain? No, not the time…), so Tim was sure that even comatose he would appreciate some commiserating. So Tim explained to the unconscious Sims about his past counterpart's recent doings. He bemoaned Jon's inability to take care of himself without some kind of intervention. He mentioned Sasha’s plans and their attempt at a heist, even though in the end it only half worked. He even got to touch on how he was starting to think Martin might be a good addition to the Archives, even if Jon seemed fairly antagonistic. He then idly wondered aloud if Sims himself had ever managed to get the stick out of his arse, but when his chuckle came out strained, he let himself lapse into silence. 

"You know," Tim mused to the (nearly) empty room. "Jon's been extra… well he's been almost nothing like he was in Research. Don't get me wrong, I know our Jon is still there, wrapped under all the layers of put on stuffy airs he seems to think he needs to be our boss. But I miss the guy who would recite wikipedia articles at me, or make those dry comments that were meant in good fun, or just kinda popped out when he was trying to make a bad situation better. I miss him actually hanging out with me and Sasha after work for drinks or take out or even our madcap adventures doing field work. I know that last one can't happen anymore, seeing as he's our boss, and I don't think we're actually supposed to be doing field research for these statements, but even then he just wants us to go out and do it so he can stay in his office all day. Which, you know, fair dues! But surely he doesn't think that as our boss he can't still be our friend outside of work?" Tim felt that last question come out far more honest and plaintive than he had meant to allow, but realised it was just him that was able to process anything in the room. "Which is stupid right? Just because he’s head of the department doesn’t mean that he should suddenly become unapproachable.”

Tim stared dolefully down at the comatose body in front of him. “This would all be so much easier if Sasha had been made Head Archivist wouldn’t it?” Sims couldn’t answer, though Tim didn’t need the man from the future to tell him something the sickening feeling in his gut was telling him well enough. It was a similar feeling to the night Danny had disappeared, where he knew that something wasn’t right. He knew just from Jon’s body double and the tapes that it had something to do with Jon’s job as Head Archivist, but it was increasingly vexing him that they would almost have to live it out in real time to get any information at all out of the tapes. There was the slim hope that Sims would have answers when (if) he woke, but those could still be a long time coming. However, the point still stood that while Sasha might have made the more competent Head Archivist, Jon was who Elias had chosen, potentially for the worse. Tim could (and probably would) complain more about Jon taking Sasha’s job, but if “Sasha’s job” will end up with her dead or worse… Well Tim doesn’t like choosing favourites, but if pressed he would always choose Sasha before Jon. Which was why he was in such a bind over needing to ask Jon along for Martin’s birthday celebration, wasn’t it? He had chosen Sasha ahead of Jon, both in work and life. He didn't necessarily feel bad about it, but he just didn’t want to have to choose between them in the first place.

After a moment more of staring down at Sims, he realised that at least here, he didn’t have to choose. He reached forwards and lightly held Sims’ cool hand. But Tim was caught off guard when he felt the hand he was holding suddenly twitch, and Tim felt a thrill of excitement run up his spine. Unfortunately, it was short lived, as Sims did not react further. His eyes didn't even manage to flutter, and Tim wondered if it was a fluke. However, he figured he would report the event once he was done, making sure to note the time so that if Daniel wanted that much detail, Tim could provide. He then noticed the odd texture under his hands and realised that while he was holding the better of the two hands, it was still marked by odd circular scars. He pondered a moment, wondering what on earth could have caused something like them. At first guess, Tim wondered if it had something to do with some kind of illness, and that they were scars from boils perhaps being broken. But the distribution was all wrong, and almost looked like he had been dipped on one side more than the other into whatever caused it. If they were smaller, Tim would have guessed that Sims had been attacked by some kind of bug or parasite; but these holes were far too large to be anything found in Britain…

Tim stopped himself. There was only so much he could conjecture, and right now it was far better to just enjoy the fact that Sims was still breathing. His eyes darted along the still form to be sure, and Tim gave a silent sigh as Sims pulled in another breath. He hoped that no matter what had happened to this version of Jon, he would still have that uniquely Jon way of things: that he would still chuckle at Tim’s terrible attempts at jokes, debate with Sasha about random tidbits of knowledge, and maybe have even learned how to treat Martin better. Tim snorted at that last one. While he couldn't see the future, it was surely going to take years before Jon ever thawed towards Martin, if ever with the way he was still glaring at him 3 weeks in. Then again… he seemed to be trying to give Martin a chance after Tim and Sasha's little break in. Though as per usual he was going about it in his very Jonathan Sims way of glaring less and counting it as trying.

Tim sighed and squeezed Sims' hand. "Dammit Jon, why must you make it so difficult to invite you to things." Then Tim released Sims' hand and gave it a final farewell pat. "I 'spose I should get going so I can ask Jon along for Martin's birthday on Saturday. You should let us know how that went in your go of things once you're finally awake. Maybe we can trade embarrassing office secrets by the time you’re up and about?” With a far less dour disposition, Tim made his way home for the night, making sure to wave goodbye to Daniel on his way out.

-

The next day found Tim staring down Jon's closed office door. He had agonised a bit over how he would try to go about getting Jon on board for Saturday, but had eventually decided that he would do just as well winging it. But now that he stood in front of the door, he felt an uncharacteristic amount of trepidation. If he were one for more self reflection, he probably could have pinpointed what was going on. However, instead he chalked it up to Jon now technically being his boss, and finally knocked.

Tim could hear a faint “come in” from within, and without any further hesitation let himself in.

Jon was sitting behind a growing mound of papers and office supplies that were only matched by the bags under his eyes. Tim noticed, however, that Jon’s general complexion was almost back to normal, and that Jon was giving him that grumpy look that translated to “professional curiosity” immediately, instead of taking a few seconds to even recognize that someone had opened the door. Though on a moment of consideration as he settled across the desk from Jon, he realised there might also be some real exasperation mixed in there as well.

“Yes Tim, what do you need?” Jon asked.

Tim forced a bit of cheer into his voice. “Hey boss! Just checking in to find out what your plans were for this weekend.”

Jon’s face at that was well worth any worries he had had the night before. It was an amusing conglomeration shock, exasperation, and a smidge of amusement. His voice even managed to mirror his face perfectly as he scolded, “ Tim… I know your skill set lends itself towards encounters of the star-crossed variety, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from attempting such things whilst on the clock.”

Tim wheezed, and barely gasped out, “No no no no, not like that at all boss! Though if I was trying to woo you, I certainly would try something else first.” Admittedly, Tim had tried the subtle approach with Jon back when he was finally beginning to recover and Sasha hadn’t yet transferred. What can he say? He’s a bit of a bi disaster and assertive, funny, and looking like Oxford threw up on them people trip his trigger. Alas, Jon was denser than a brick and Tim came to realise they worked well as friends without needing to add anything else into the mix, and the crush faded. Instead, along came Sasha, but that’s a thought for another time.

“No no,” Tim continued. “Sasha and I wanted an Archival department ice cream social on Saturday to celebrate, and it isn’t a department social without our Head Archivist along for the ride.”

Jon gave him a more cautious look this time. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I am far too busy to be indulging in an afternoon of frivolous pleasantries.”

“Oh come on boss, this is more of an… unstructured team building exercise! We all need a break from the dungeon, and what better way to do that than celebrate with ice cream on a hot summer day?”

Jon suddenly narrowed his eyes. “And what in particular are we ‘celebrating’?”

Tim snapped his fingers like he had just remembered something, though if fooled neither of them. “Well boss, it’s Martin’s birthday this weekend, and we figured what better way to help him feel welcome than having a little outing together?”

Jon continued to stare at Tim with narrowed eyes, though Tim could tell that Jon seemed mostly open to the idea, even if he was still trying to hold on to some sort of professional distance. “Indeed…” After a moment or two more of thought, Jon sighed and finally capitulated. “Fine, you have made your point. I will be sure to set aside the time on Saturday to join you all for ice cream.” Tim smiled radiantly at Jon, but as he stood to leave, Jon continued. “And Tim?”

“Yeah boss?”

“Please remember to focus on the paperwork I assigned you on Monday. And feel free to tell Sasha that if it comes down to finding tape 004’s transcript and getting her other assignment complete, I would prefer her to finish the paperwork.”

Tim saluted, and then casually left the room. Sasha would be happy to hear that Jon was loosening up a bit, and that he had decided without too much pushing to actually join their little birthday party for Martin.

Chapter Text

The day of the ice cream social arrived like most other days in late July did: sunny, early, and warm. The rest of the week after Tim had gone to convince Jon to show up had happened about as expected. To no one's surprise, the original file for tape 004 never actually turned up, and Sasha and Tim had spent Friday actually working in earnest. They managed to get the final bits of cursory research done on the remaining files and submitted into Jon's inbox by day's end. 

With the sudden and self-inflicted influx of paperwork on his desk, Jon was sorely tempted to bow out of the social on the basis of having far too much work to do. However, he had agreed to attend, and as Tim had said, it was a great opportunity for team bonding off the clock. (And it helped that getting ice cream on what was sure to be a hot day sounded divine, even if he would never willingly admit it aloud.) But that left Jon with the decision of if he should go into work before he meets up with the others at the Tube station closest to the Institute or not. While Jon could sleep in, it wasn't in his nature to put off work for later that could be done now (particularly when his boss' approval seemed contingent on his continued performance). So he went into work alone till it was time to walk to the station to meet up with the others.

‘That was potentially a mistake,’ he found himself thinking later as he rushed out of the Institute already 5 minutes late to the meetup time and it was a 5 minute walk from the Institute to the station. He ran through the crowded lunch rush, and saw his three assistants chatting amiably by the entrance to the underground. Hoping that none of them had caught sight of his running down the street like an insane man, he slowed to a fast walk and tried his best to look less out of breath than he felt. 

The smirk on Tim’s face once he looked over and noticed him quickly resigned him to the idea of being teased mercilessly anyway.

“Boss!” called Tim, smile not abating, and instantly drawing the attention of Martin and Sasha. “You made it!” Tim’s arms swept wide, gesturing at their little group, and quickly transitioned to a quick side-hug once Jon was within grabbing range.

“Ach! Yes yes,” Jon gently batted at Tim’s arm in a token attempt at removing the offending limb (though really the habitual greeting between the two was an easy back and forth to fall back into, and Jon knew he would be raking himself over the coals later for such a slip in professionalism). “I lost track of time, so my apologies for perhaps running a little late.”

Tim waved him off, and retracted his arm just as quickly as he had wrapped it around Jon. “Nah, couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes since I showed up! You’re good boss.”

Sasha, of course, refused to be left out and gently pat Jon’s shoulder. “You really weren’t that late. Besides! There’s no rush, and the afternoon is still young yet. We’ve got a birthday to celebrate with ice cream after all!”

Jon similarly shrugged off her hand, but flashed her a look of gratitude. Putting aside their recent disagreements, it was honestly nice to pretend for a few hours that this was just another outing like they would do in Research; in this case celebrating someone’s birthday. So of course, just like with Tim, it was easy to slip out his more professional facade and into his more laid back one.

And then, at last, there was Martin still standing on the edge of the greetings looking increasingly out of place. Jon, being who he was, stiffened up and attempted a smile while saying, "ah, happy birthday Martin." 

Instantly he regretted saying anything at all as Martin blushed and looked away as he replied, "ah, th-thank you? H-happy you could make it…" Whatever Jon had just done must have given Martin terrible amounts of second-hand embarrassment if he couldn't even look Jon in the eyes. Jon felt his heart sink at the thought that he might even manage to ruin Martin's birthday celebration with Tim and Sasha, but forcefully reminded himself that he was invited and that he was more than likely blowing things out of proportion again. He just had to keep reminding himself that there was food and mostly good company involved, so all he had to do was treat Martin like he treats Tim and Sasha. 

Which was incredibly hard to do as Jon was starkly reminded why he was thoroughly bothered by the man while Martin continued to blather on about nothing in particular. It was that or a litany of self-abasements to acquire what Jon could only assume was sympathy which Tim and Sasha seemed happy to provide given the least provocation. But he kept his mouth shut and Tim seemed to take over from there, leading their little group in the direction of the appointed ice cream parlour.

-

Martin was shocked at how good the day was going to be quite honest. It has started a little rocky, Jon closing up the moment Martin had first started stuttering (listen, it was hard to keep it together when Jon looked incredibly hot from running and Martin himself was terrified that he would say something wrong and get yelled at on his birthday,) and Tim needing to gently butt in to start pushing them towards ice cream. But once they were actually on their way and Tim helped get the conversation going again, the 4 of them had a grand walk over to the ice cream shop. They talked about their plans for the day, queried him about his usual way of celebrating (he didn't, not really, but he wasn't going to admit to having no one but his mother to celebrate with, so platitudes it was), and generally settled into small talk that they normally didn't have time for while at the office. Seeing as the day was going to be  a hot one, and that they had started out for the ice cream shop at half past 1, Martin was thankful that the walk was fairly short. Once they were seated, Martin had managed to make a note of the kinds of ice cream they had all picked (What? It might come in handy someday…) and had gotten thoroughly embroiled in a discussion with Tim and Sasha about the proper way to make broke person ramen. However, in their pursuit of all the many ways to make food in general, Martin had idly speculated about what icecream even was and… well somehow that question had managed to get Jon on a tangent and he seemed to be quoting almost verbatim the Wikipedia page for "emulsifiers". Which honestly? Very impressive. Martin was fascinated, though he could tell by the eye rolls and sarcastic mouthing along by the other two that this was not the first time Jon had gone on such a tangent. He wondered if Jon must then read wikipedia for fun, before realising that was a stupid question, of course he must he was literally either quoting or summarising an entire page from said site. Maybe it was just emulsifiers for some reason though? 

Martin waited patiently till Jon seemed close to winding down before asking, "so, is it just ice cream you know this much about?"

Jon looked almost embarrassed a moment before Tim jumped in. "Oh, he's like this about almost everything! Once you get him going, you're guaranteed to know more than you ever dreamed about the topic. In fact, one time I got him going about sharks because I had mentioned that Shark week was right around the corner, and he…"

"I just happen to enjoy the idea of an educational week about sharks, even if almost all of the content is shlock they put together for American audiences that sensationalises the real facts." Jon interjected, turning his nose up a bit at the thought of diluting the data to be more consumable for audiences. He took another bite of his rum raisin in defiance, and watched as Tim grinned mischievously. 

Martin, on the other hand, also had a grin watching Jon and Tim have their moment of being daft. He was curious though, "is it just sharks then that you like or would you prefer a week about a different animal?"

"Cats.” Jon said immediately, not a moment of hesitation to be found. "Specifically house cats."

"Isn't there already enough cat content on Discovery to have a cat day every week?" queried Sasha, her face housing a look of bemusement. "Surely you don't need an additional week every year just devoted to cat facts and cat videos?"

Before Jon could reply, Tim jumped in again and said, "exactly! Which is why we need a dog week instead."

"Hey now, if cat week is objectionable because of the amount of shows about them already on Discovery, then dogs certainly are disqualified." Countered Jon.

"You're thinking too narrowly though," added Sasha. "Really they should do a week on something like those deep sea worms under the Antarctic ice sheets."

"Oh, that is disgusting Sash! Definitely thinking outside the box though."

"Clearly you both fail to grasp the importance of regular informationals about pets who are in need of better representation."

"Personally, I wish there was a week about spiders." Interjected Martin. He wasn't expecting the sudden silence that fell over the table at his announcement though. So he decided to fill it. "I-I mean, clearly they're misunderstood and there isn't even a single deadly species of them in the entirety of the British Isles. And they're incredibly important to the ecosystem because…"

While he was talking the rest of them unfroze, Tim and Sasha beginning to look away from Jon as Jon began to look less pale and more exasperated. "Martin, I understand their importance, but honestly they are beastly creatures which I would rather see as little as possible." Said Jon, derailing Martin.

Martin gasped dramatically, mock outrage painted across his features. "They are not 'beastly creatures', they are important to keeping invasive insect populations low and I refuse to hear anything but good things about our 8 legged friends."

"Oooo, you hear that Jon? 8 legged friends!" Tim gently prodded at Jon's shoulder, and Jon went back to grumbling into his now very soupy rum raisin.

"So are spiders your favourite animal then?" asked Sasha, eyes alight with curiosity. 

Martin had to think a moment, which turned to two, then three. He realised he had never actually tried to compare his love of different creatures before. He knew he was quite fond of spiders, mostly because they were such a common phobia and he just didn't understand why someone would be so scared of them in this part of the world. He wanted to keep them safe seeing as they were all quite harmless. But spiders certainly weren't the only animals he had a great love of. There were of course dogs and cats. He found himself more of a dog person admittedly but he had also never disliked cats either. Then there were highland cows, but that was more of a distant thing, something he loved because they looked fluffy even if he wouldn't necessarily have the time or the funds to ever travel to Scotland to see them. Honestly, Martin loved most creatures that didn't go out of their way to be a nuisance. And even then he knew that as long as he let them be or carefully removed them he wouldn't have any problems. So really, with never having been asked a question like this before, he found himself rather stumped over the answer.

"Well…" he said at last. "I do really like spiders. But I equally enjoy looking at Highland cows, so probably both of them are my favourites."

Sasha nodded with a smile while Jon looked like he had bit a lemon and Tim looked incredibly amused. “In that case you can be our resident spider caddy!” noted Tim.

Jon sputtered at that, while both Sasha and Martin giggled. “Spider caddy??” asked Martin incredulously.

“Yeah! Jon’s not a fan of them, so he’s always asking me or Sash to go and get rid of them for him. I figured since you’re a fan, you’d be down for dealing with them most of the time, seeing as me and Sasha usually just end them.”

Martin felt a small tendril of fond exasperation take root for the man diagonally from him across the table. Really, Jon was just full of surprises today wasn’t he. Then Martin realised it was for everyone at the table as well, the camaraderie they were showing to him and each other warmed him minutely, though he locked it away and kept up his polite amusement. "I-I mean… I'm always h-happy to move a spider outside."

Jon gave Martin a sudden very intense look of consideration, and Martin could feel himself lock up under the scrutiny. But just as suddenly as he had started, Jon looked away with a silent nod. As confused as Martin was, he nodded back, and Sasha and Tim went back to flirting with each other from their own diagonal positions. Really, if they were any less subtle Jon would probably realise what was going on. Then again… there was an equally likely chance they were just "like this" and there truly wasn't anything going on there. Martin set the thought aside, as he knew he would have plenty of chances for the foreseeable future to find out the story there.

Their time at the ice cream shop continued like that through the heat of the day, ending with smiles all around. While Tim and Sasha pushed Martin into potentially being treated to supper somewhere, Jon excused himself citing a significant backlog he needed to work through. Before he left though, Tim asked if Jon was considering visiting Sims at some point, and Jon shook his head. 

“No, I’m far too busy to be devoting time to visiting someone I don’t even know at a hospital that is out of my way to get to.”

“Aw, come on boss!” cajoled Tim. “He’s been making his way slowly back to the land of the living and I think you and Martin would be just what he needs to get him up and at it!” At Jon’s glare, Tim tried one last time with, “I mean, would it really kill you to come along with us next week for a big group visit? I want you all to meet the overnight nurse with me.”

“Don’t you mean save you from the night nurse?” asked Sasha with a smile. “You were just telling me how much the dayside nurse was hyping her up as some scary lady who would hunt us down for being from the Institute.”

As Tim sputtered, Jon rolled his eyes. “In that case consider me very uninterested. We will already be dealing with our fair share of naysayers I’m sure, just as we did back in Research, without adding another one to worry about.”

“Aw please Jon? Just one time with the rest of us. Then I won’t bother you till after he’s awake I promise.” With Tim putting on his most pathetic look, Jon looked briefly conflicted before standing his ground.

“No Tim, and please don’t push me about this. I will visit my… doppelganger …” Jon sneered. “...as time allows.” With that he tried to put on a more diplomatic facade. Martin could honestly say it looked more like Jon had swallowed something unpleasant than him trying to be polite. “Again, while it was a pleasure, I really must be on my way. I have much to do, and I’m sure the three of you would like to get on with your evening.” Subtly, he seemed to soften just a hair so that he almost looked grateful as he went to face Martin. Martin felt himself get caught once again in the magnetic pull of Jon’s eyes. “Happy birthday Martin, I shall see you again on Monday.”

Martin tried to stutter out another thank you, but by the time anything actually escaped him Jon was already making his way down the street towards the Institute. Instead, Martin found himself staring with an indecipherable feeling slowly percolating in his chest at the place where Jon had been standing just a moment ago. But before he could get a deeper understanding his feelings, Tim had clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t you worry about Jon…” started Tim, but was quickly overtaken by Sasha.

“Yeah, he had a good time! It’s a little hard to tell with all the scowling he likes to do, but that’s probably the most I’ve seen him smile in months.”

Martin couldn’t help himself as he asked, “you think?”

"I know so!" Replied Sasha, Tim quick to add his piece.

"Besides, do we seem like the kind of people to lie to you about this?"

Martin privately considered that yes, yes they probably would, after the stunt Tim and Sasha had pulled the week before with Jon. But he knew better than to vocalise that thought and instead merely laughed along and said, "I guess not!" Martin could tell he had avoided a potentially bad choice as both Tim and Sasha relaxed subtly at his response and looked like their smiles were a little more relaxed.

"Well then, you better believe us then that Jon had a good time today," replied Tim.

"Ha! Alright, alright, I believe you!" Said Martin, chuckling at the faux stern expression on Tim's face. He then glanced down at the time, and realised he would need to call his mother soon if he didn't want to have an incredibly unpleasant day tomorrow when he would inevitably have the time again during the time of day she was awake. Not to say this wasn't going to be an incredibly unpleasant experience as it was, but more to say he would rather get the whole thing out of the way without adding reasons for her crankiness. But that also meant Martin would need to find a way of convincing Tim and Sasha that he was unavailable for food and drinks now. Maybe if he just…

"Well thank you both for the lovely evening, but I really should be going."

Tim and Sasha both gave him disbelieving stares. "Weren't you just telling us you didn't have any other plans tonight?" Asked Sasha.

Drat. "Ah, w-well I don't have supper plans yet n-no -"

"And weren't you also commenting earlier about how nice it is to have people to hang out with on your birthday?" Asked Tim, beginning to look suspicious.

"S-sure! But… That is to say -"

"So what could be keeping you from a free birthday supper?" finished Sasha, mirroring Tim's expression.

Martin, in a split second decided part of the truth was at least warranted. So he outwardly sighed, and slipped on the well worn facade of the long-suffering son. "Right, listen. I'm due to call my mum this evening right around supper. It can't be moved as she has a very rigid schedule she likes to keep, and the timing just wouldn't work out to try and do the call and go out with you both either before or after." Mentally, he begged it to be enough to convince them.

Tim seemed sympathetic, and while Sasha still seemed a little suspicious, she seemed otherwise pacified enough to not push it. "Ah, got it." Tim said. "In that case, could I still interest you in a late night check in with our mysterious second boss?"

Martin shook his head apologetically. "Sorry Tim. But if I have the spare time on my own, I'll be sure to tell them you sent me."

Tim gently patted him on the shoulder in reply and looked incredibly sympathetic to his plight. “All good then mate. In that case we’ll see you Monday! Hope you had a great birthday with us this afternoon.”

Martin felt a small upwelling of emotion at the simple sentiment. It had been far longer than he had wanted to admit to that someone had spent a day off just to treat him. And it was beyond his scope of reference that anyone would treat him with such care on his birthday. Or at least, it hadn’t happened quite so happily since he was a young lad in primary school. But Tim and Sasha had gone out of their ways to set up a fun little ice cream social just for him and had managed to even convince their acerbic boss to join them. So yes, Martin had had a very pleasant birthday up till this point, and he hoped that this might even be a sign of things to come.

“Of course! It was lovely, and we should d-definitely do something like this again for all of the Archives birthdays.”

Tim and Sasha smiled at that, and then with some more protracted goodbyes, they went their separate ways.

Chapter Text

In the quiet nighttime gloom of Sims’ hospital room, his little shifts and increasing activity were noted by the ever watchful night nurse as he fought to wake up from the coma. The nurse had seen her fair share of things that go bump in the night at this job, so having a patient seemingly so normal kept her on constant high alert… at least at the start. However, as the weeks had rolled on, and the young man who was in her keeping showed no sudden signs of recovery: no sudden lust for blood, no burning of sheets or piles of worms, no creeping Darkness trying to steal him away in the night, no horrific restructuring of his entire skeletal structure, ect. … She found herself becoming less wary and more hopeful that he would be able to be the one person she could say she had saved from the nightmare that was the world she had found herself in. So every little change in his condition she catalogued for the doctor, and she herself went back to some of her old textbooks to refresh herself on coma recovery so as to better prepare for any possible complications. Of course, she had heard from Daniel, chatterbox that he was, about the Magnus Institute people that were poking around during the day. She knew him well enough to know he had also warned them about her as well, though in part it was probably due to her initial reaction to hearing about them visiting. She had been taught from early childhood that people hailing from the Magnus Institute or had an affinity for eyes or too curious for their own good were never to be trusted. So upon hearing that their current patient had been found there, and that people from that accursed Institute were sticking around like gum on a shoe, she had had a momentary lapse in professionalism. In the aftermath, she had been grateful that she worked in what equated to the unofficial spooky branch of the acute assessment unit, as she couldn't be fired for unprofessional behaviour by virtue of having literally no oversight.

Over the last couple of weeks, the Institute employees hadn't seemed to have done anything thus far to her patient. But if there was one thing Abigail Fanshawe was sure of, it was that she wouldn't let them have a chance.

-

Martin wouldn't say he had been avoiding the hospital necessarily. He just didn't see why he should be taking yet another burden onto his proverbial back when he was already so overwhelmed. As it stood, he was already keeping track of his mother at the care home and his actual coworkers whilst at work (of which his boss still probably hated him, and continued to make his life worse than it already was (even if he had gotten marginally better in the last 2 weeks since the Incident with Tim and Sasha)). He didn't need to add "spooky boss number 2" to the roster of people he would be worrying over. Well, he said this, but he frequently found himself asking Tim about the strange man in the hospital and wondering if he should visit. 

No, it was more likely that his specific problems with his mother being in and out of hospitals for all of his adult life and never hearing good news from them contributed the most to his avoidance. After all, if Martin showed up, they would only hear terrible news about Sims' long term survival he was sure. Martin knew it wasn't rational, but that didn't stop him from keeping his distance and holding himself to just asking Tim about Sims. However, when just over a month after his birthday Tim got the call to go to the hospital as soon as possible for news, and he asked if everyone would go with him, who was Martin to pass up the opportunity? The news was already set in stone, his appearance would not affect anything, and he really did want to be there to support Tim. 

Tim and Sasha had definitely warmed up to him after the birthday party, and in the previous month they had settled into more of a routine. Almost every day Martin got to have lunch with them, either sitting together huddled around the tiny breakroom table or scattered about the main office at their desks, telling jokes and sharing gossip. Jon had even shown up once or twice whilst they were in the breakroom, pulling out his own lunch and sitting mostly silent as the three talked. He would say a few words if a topic seemed to interest him, but for the most part Martin could only assume he was content just being in the room with them eating his packed lunch.

Speaking of Jon, he seemed to be doing about as well as expected. With recording one Statement per week while also listening to one tape per week, Jon seemed to be bordering on collapse quite frequently. But whenever any of them tried to convince Jon to skip a Statement he would just give them a glare and declare he was perfectly able to continue doing his job (whether or not that was true didn’t seem to matter). Unfortunately, the tapes were not providing much in the way of helpful information for them. They just seemed to be more typically spooky Statements that they were finding the more they looked for them. Every other tape would seemingly include some comments about what the other assistants had been up to during that week, but so far no one had shown up on tape yet other than Sims. Not that Martin necessarily wanted to hear another version of himself, in fact he was sure it would probably be quite disconcerting. But then again… well it wasn’t like he didn’t talk to himself when by himself in his flat. But also, hearing one of them on the tapes would more than likely mean that something had happened they needed to report, which meant something spooky had happened to one of them. Martin knew that Sims appearing by himself was not a good sign for his and the other's longevity. But for the life of him he didn't understand what about an archive could possibly lead to Jon looking like Sims. And so far the tapes were backing that thought process up. Nothing was happening in them, and part of Martin wondered if the corkboard of spookiness that Tim and Sasha had started in the breakroom would turn out to be for naught. Then again, more and more frequently the events surrounding the Statements on the tapes were beginning to align closer to what they would experience that next week. Seemingly that first month of tapes were a bit of a fluke as the Statements they found for research and Jon needed to record started to sync up with the predictions of the tapes. Martin just hoped they weren’t at the point yet that their conversations off tape were identical, nor did he want to think about what that might mean for their own future.

In any case, the Archives had been running about as well as they could be for the time being, and now the thorn in their side from before was back to pricking them again. Not that Martin disliked the idea of a second Jon, but he was worried what a Jon that looked like Sims would do to someone he might still hate. While Martin knew Jon was mostly bark no bite, he had no idea what had happened to Sims that had gotten him that many scars. But it might have taught him how to bite, and viciously at that. On the other hand, there was a part of Martin that worried he would be completely unrecognisable once he awoke. That whatever had caused Sims to look worse than a torture victim had also broken him utterly. Indeed, despite not wanting another person to worry over, Martin found himself worrying quite thoroughly about Sims.

So with concern churning in his gut, he met up with Tim, Sasha, and surprisingly Jon at the hospital where Sims had been kept for the last month and a half. He was greeted warmly by both Tim and Sasha, and even Jon managed to give him a distracted hello.

Upon his arrival, Tim quickly pulled their attention. “Well, looks like we’re all here! I have no idea what they want other than Daniel seemed to think there were big things afoot that needed addressing. So I’ve invited you all along since I know at least two of you haven’t been here since the first time we all visited.” Martin found himself mostly unsurprised at the indirect announcement that Jon hadn’t visited Sims either. Martin knew that if his spooky double showed up looking like what Jon's had, he wouldn't want to see him as much as possible either. "Plus, I figured that since we’ve all been pretty curious about what’s been going on with our spooky boss recently, now would be the best time to hear what’s going on for all of us!” Martin gave a half-hearted thumbs up in reply, and Jon looked to be incredibly distracted yet. Of course, Sasha seemed fondly amused, though Martin was mostly convinced that was her default when it came to Tim.

With that, Tim led them all back up the identical hallways till they reached the one that still left a strange pit in Martin’s stomach. The rooms were all still dark and empty, though the amount of papers scattered about the last time he had been there seemed to have abated slightly. Even Daniel was as he had been the first time Martin had visited, studiously looking things over in the nurses’ station. However, as their group got closer, Daniel seemed to notice their approach and came out to meet them.

Martin couldn’t help the small spark of hope in his chest as the nurse greeted them all with a friendly smile. “Tim! Glad to see you could make it today. And I see you brought the whole group with you this time!” Martin noticed that Daniel seemed somewhat hesitant yet with Jon’s presence, seeing as he seemed to be refusing to look at him.

“Well, you made it sound pretty important over the phone, so I figured it’d be best to make sure the whole gang came with me! Hopefully that was okay?” asked Tim. The thought that Jon and him might have to leave suddenly made him want to be here far more than he had been previously. Of course, Tim would tell them everything afterwards, but Martin felt that it was urgent he see this mystery face to face, and thus hoped that it was in fact okay for the four of them to visit Sims.

Daniel waved them off. “Of course! It’s good news today, and really I probably could have just told you over the phone.” The hallway fell silent as they waited with baited breath for the nurse to continue. After a moment longer, Daniel couldn’t seem to hold it in any longer. “Aw what the heck, your John Doe is waking up! Managed to respond to Abby’s prompting late last night and he’s been responding more frequently during our hourly checks.” At their brightening looks, Daniel wore a more sympathetic smile. “Now don’t get too excited. He isn’t actually talking yet, and he’s only just starting to move at all. The best you can probably hope for in the near future is a little bit of him gripping your hand or possibly even some vocalisations. But, he is getting better in a tangible way now, so we will be keeping you informed Mr. Stoker about Mr. Doe's treatment going forward.”

Tim nodded to this, seemingly pleased that he was the assumed outside contact for Sims. Sasha, eager to see any possible changes for herself, asked, “Does that mean we can go see him right away then?”

Daniel nodded. “Of course! He was responding a couple hours ago, but he might be asleep by now so he might not be very responsive till later. But, it’s still visiting hours, so feel free to stay till the end of them if you wish.”

Sasha immediately bolted, followed shortly by Tim. Jon and Martin glanced awkwardly between where Sims was, Daniel, and each other. Martin entertained the brief idea of dragging Jon with him to Sims’ room, but discarded it, figuring Jon would either stay or go irregardless of Martin’s wishes. Eventually Martin let out a nervous sigh and made his way towards Sims’ hospital room. In for a penny, in for a pound. At least the news was good (for once in Martin’s life), and he figured he would check in and see if his boss’s look alike was looking any better than when he had been admitted.

-

Sims woke to his hand being gently squeezed by an unknown hand. 

Distantly he was aware that since his first time even vaguely related to being conscious, this state of affairs was usual. Another, less distant, part of him was miffed that it wasn’t the hand of Martin that he was clutching (though really, he couldn't Know that, so perhaps he was?). An even less distant part of him was screaming at him that something was Wrong, and that Martin wasn’t with him. Furthermore, that hazy Knowing that had plagued him nigh constantly from the moment he had awoken from his coma was gone. He was… fairly certain he hadn't yet tried to open his eyes to check, but the ability to remember things well was a skill well beyond his grasp at that moment in time. What he was able to say was that he knew he was human. Or at least close enough to no longer be the Archivist. Admittedly he couldn't be sure , but the fact he couldn't be sure was the biggest tell of them all. Then again, that could be influenced by how he definitely wasn't completely conscious yet. He felt how he used to coming out of sleep on the few days he allowed himself to sleep in. That half waking, half sleeping miasma that registers vague details of the world around them and yet isn't fully detached yet from the anchors of the subconscious dream. But the further he mused, the closer he came to reality as his thoughts gained more coherency.

Something he also began attempting now that he was conscious of even having a body again was actually moving. He initially tried to squeeze back, but every minute twitch of his fingers felt like trying to roll a boulder up a hill. If the sudden change in tones of voices he could hear was anything to go by, he would have to assume that they had managed to notice even that small of a change. He wanted to see who was there, and decided to try and open his eyes, even if it was unlikely to be successful considering the struggle he had just endured to even twitch his fingers. With monumental effort, he tried to lift his heavy lids. Immediately this action sent alarm bells off in his head as both the energy required to move them was too much, but also that they weren't twitching in the way they should. There wasn't anything to twitch over, he realised distantly, horror and guilty elation pooling in his chest. He could feel the sudden adrenaline boost causing his second attempt to hold the person's hand back significantly more successful. He also realised through the encroaching panic and hysteria that he would no longer need to worry about buying glasses now that he was human again. He had needed glasses upon his entry to secondary school and had been blind as a bat by the time he had entered Research. But after he had awoken from the coma, glasses were a thing of the past as what fully realised Archivist would he be if something as simple as losing his glasses would keep him from seeing something?

In his panic, he hadn't fully registered that the voices around him were still talking, but as his spiral tapered off, he again realised that there were people in whatever room he was in. Realising he wanted to try and actually hear what they had to say, to find out who was by him, Jon took a deeper breath and pulled himself as much into the present as he could. 

The first thing he noted was that the voices were familiar. Very familiar. Impossibly familiar in fact. Part of him had hoped beyond hope that if he woke up, Martin would be by his side, but never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that he would hear Tim and Sasha again. The real Sasha even, as that was the only part of her he could still remember. This one sounded just like the tapes, and potentially even more laid back than the few snippets of her he had gathered before her demise. Her tone was eager and bright, and Sims was struck with a deep yearning to see her as she was right there in that moment. Tim seemed to respond in kind, curious and friendly, though with that undertone Sims only really got to understand after Prentiss. The one he had when there was weirdness afoot, but he wanted to be strong for his friends. However, it was barely noticeable, even to Sims' sensitive ear (both terrified and resigned to hearing Tim come back around to seeing him as a monster, and thus looking for the seeds of that hatred). But what shocked him most was hearing both Martin and himself interject here and there. His immediate thought was that he must be dreaming. How could there be two of him? The other Jon might be a Stranger, but he sounded as he should; though with that tetchy “professional” facade he had cultivated back during the first year of working in the Archives. Then Sims had an epiphany that he really wishes could have waited till the next time he was awake. What if his “going Somewhere Else” had the end point of the past, and not another dimension? He honestly hadn’t considered he would survive the process of falling with the Fears into another reality, much less that Annabelle might have been mistaken on just what would happen during the collapse of the Eyepocalypse. But other than dreaming, he could think of no other reason why the four original members of the Archives were gathered around his body. Perhaps he was in an alternate reality where they had met and were friends outside the Institute? Or a reality where the Institute was benign? Or a reality where specifically everything was the same but he was supposed to crashland there? In the latter case, was it even different from time travel?

Sims forced himself to focus on the voices around him again. While he could feel the floaty-ness of dream beginning to encroach on his thoughts again, he wanted to verify what he could about the people around him. Tim’s voice snapped back into place as he said, “...think he’s still awake?” Sims felt the grip on his hand tighten, but he really didn’t have the energy to both grip back and listen to their conversation.

“... Doesn’t seem to be.” Replied Sasha, grip going back to a loose one.

“That was what… 5 minutes you think?” asked Tim. Sasha hummed absentmindedly while the other Jon harrumphed from what sounded like across the room. 

Sims felt a pang of acute loss as Martin said, “Y-yeah, probably...” Sims ached at the familiar voice that lacked the tone of recognition and fondness he had grown used to hearing during the apocalypse and the 3 weeks in the cabin leading up to it. Now Martin was back to the meek man he remembered back in the early days of the Archives, unsuited to confrontation and ever unsure of his welcome. Weighted by the knowledge that he had lost his Martin, he fell back into the muddle of sleep.

- - - - 

The next time Sims was aware of himself, he could hear the quiet chatter of just Tim and Sasha. It brought him back to a time of lower expectations and caffeine fueled research binges, and the quiet camaraderie of the only people other than Georgie he would have called friends. Once again, he began the arduous process of attempting to open his eyes, and he realised that the last time was probably not a dream as he was greeted with the absence of sight and the deeply unpleasant sensation of his eyelids not moving as they should. He tried moving, and found that his better hand could still twitch just a little. After a moment, he realised Tim and Sasha had stopped talking, and he froze in response, sure they had caught on. 

"Sims, you awake?" asked Sasha.

Sims wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to that, but figured another twitch of the hand might work. The effort needed to even twitch his fingers weighed heavily on him, and he wondered how long he would be able to keep up with the conversation if the trend continued.

"Okay… okay, okay okay-"

"Morning bosserino!" Tim suddenly added beside Sasha, and it was his hand that Sims assumed slipped into his better hand, as it was larger than his and blocky in a way he remembered from Research. "You've been in and out of it for the last month or so; so if you're with us, could you give my hand a squeeze?"

Sims felt very overwhelmed by the rush of words by this ghost of his past, but he did his best to squeeze Tim's hand as hard as he could. The effort it took to even barely put pressure on Tim's hand felt like he was trying to roll a boulder up a mountain, but it was worth it as Tim audibly grinned when he said, "there you are second boss. Knew you had it in you."

If Sims could smile back he would, but the best he could manage was a slight twitch of the lip. The amount of energy he was spending wasn't much, he knew that, but he felt like every gesture took everything he had to complete. He felt like he should be frustrated by this, but the creeping wave of sleep made it difficult to feel much at all.

He was startled from his drifting by Tim continuing his chatter. "We'll have to tell the nurse about this of course… actually Sasha you want to get Daniel or shall I?"

"I can get him. You're looking a bit tied up at the moment, and I'll have plenty of opportunities later to grill him about details." Sims then could hear the rustling of clothing and the tapping of low heeled shoes across the hospital floor. After a moment they had made their way to a door and after opening it, Sasha presumably made her way out to find the nurse Tim had mentioned.

The silence settled between them momentarily before Tim commented, “I think you’ll like Daniel. Guy knows his stuff, and he’s been great about all the spookiness. First boss hasn’t had much to say about him, so that’s practically a ringing endorsement!” 

Sims felt a pang at that, hearing Tim chat with him like they were still best friends. Like he hadn’t utterly deconstructed their friendship all the way down to the foundation and set the supplies to rebuild it on fire. Like he hadn’t pushed him to the point of seeking his end at the Unknowing. Except… He hadn’t hurt this Tim yet, had he? From what little he could gather from his circumstances and the presence of both Sasha and Tim, as well as the scattered impressions of previous bouts of semi-lucidity, he must have jumped to a world where they still lived and Tim at least was still working for a version of him who also existed. Afterall, the “boss” moniker hadn’t appeared until after they all had been moved to the Archives. But that also meant that his other self was still on fairly good ground with Tim since he still sounded mostly fond of him. (Of course, Sims was under no delusions about himself, particularly how he had acted early on in the Archives. He was difficult to work with even on a good day, and that had been true even in Research.)

In response to Tim’s chatter, which he had continued while Sims had drifted a bit, Sims gave Tim’s hand another barely there squeeze. Sims could feel he only had a few more of those in him before he drifted off again.

Tim paused at the out of the blue squeeze, asked, “You still there Sims?” Then he realised that yes, Sims was still awake because his eyes were still as close to open as he could manage. Admittedly, he might not be there mentally again, but at least he was still conscious. Which definitely was edging ever closer to the longest time he had been awake since he had appeared in Document Storage those couple of months ago. “Nevermind, looks like you’re still awake at least.” He squeezed Sims’ hand back firmly, feeling the boniness of it. “I care for you too mate,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself.

Sims allowed himself a thrill of joy mixed with mourning at that, knowing he did not deserve this version of Tim’s understanding, but desperately craving the tenderness anyways. However, Sims could hear the return of Sasha’s shoes, along with a second pair of shoes that were probably trainers (if Sims had to guess at least) both coming to a stop outside the door. He could vaguely hear her voice, though none of the words are remotely audible, and an unfamiliar male voice sounding muffled interjected every so often. Then he could hear the door open, and listened as Tim greeted Sasha and the stranger (Daniel he introduced himself as). The three then audibly settled themselves beside Sims’ bed, and he pushed to keep himself awake to find out what the nurse might need.

“So John, as you might have heard, I’m one of two nurses who are looking after you during your stay here. My name is Daniel and I’m your primary nurse. To make things easy I’m going to test your reactions to simple stimuli, and then if you’re feeling up to it I’ll ask you some yes or no questions. Can you squeeze my hand if you caught any of that?”

Jon, in the greatest effort he had put in thus far, and felt like anything more and he might pass out, he slowly put pressure on the new hand that was holding his.

“Excellent!” Jon can hear the man scratching away at a piece of paper with what sounded like a pencil. “Now, I’m going to pinch the back of your left hand.” Immediately after he could feel a sharp pressure on the back of his hand as promised and could feel the muscles in his hand twitch in response. Then almost as soon as the pain disappeared, Daniel was speaking again. “Good! Now, when I ask, I'd like you to squeeze it as hard as you are able, okay?” The hand in his hand gives him a light squeeze. “Alright, squeeze as hard as you can!” Jon then focuses the last of his energy on this one task. He thinks he might have gotten an even stronger grip than with the first time with Tim, but with his energy gone he quickly felt his eyes slide shut and his consciousness slipping away.

 -

Tim continued to visit Sims’ bedside 3 times a week. While Sims was usually unresponsive when Tim arrived, more and more frequently Sims would come to with a quiet intake of breath and his hand would twitch against the bedsheets. Tim then would discuss with the now (mostly) conscious man whatever came to mind, or whatever series of petty jabs had been levelled in the archives that week, or the Statement Jon had them working on, or if there was something he thought interesting on the tape of the week. The first time Sims had seemingly been completely present while Tim was there, he had squeezed just a bit harder at the mention of the tapes, and so Tim had explained that 200 some tapes had dropped with him into Document Storage. Sims had gone unresponsive at that, which Tim initially took to mean that Sims had fallen asleep mid conversation (a not unusual state of affairs), but realised after a moment that Sims’ vital signs were still elevated. Tim tried calling out to him, but Sims ended up frozen in bed till he eventually did drop back off to sleep. It was concerning to say the least, but Sims still hadn’t actually said anything up till now. He seemed barely able to grip things with his healthy hand, and even after over a month since he had last invited the other people from the Archives to come with him to the hospital, Sims still seemed to struggle with staying conscious for more than an hour at a time. On the plus side, he was taking shorter naps between bouts of consciousness, but that didn’t seem to help him in recovering more physical abilities.

Much of that changed though when Tim came in to talk with Sims about 5 weeks after the last big visit.

Chapter Text

It had been a weird week and a half for Tim, if he was being honest with himself. The week previous they had listened to the next tape as was their habit on Monday; but the tape had broken the usual form of “Sims reads spooky archived Statement and then reviews their research on it”. Instead, it had started with Sims talking with a new and unfamiliar voice who they quickly learned was a woman by the name of Naomi Herne. It was amusing that Sims had reacted to her barbs by just trying to leave the room, but he proved his bleeding heart that all the assistants knew he had by staying when she asked. Then what followed was a typical Statement, fully formed and well structured. Tim had always theorised that they were like that because Gertrude had a way of subtly prepping them to write their statements like that, but here was Sims, just arguing with her and then letting her tell her tale. No prepping necessary apparently, and sure, maybe it was just the atmosphere or something that made the spooky stories actually come out coherent. But, maybe that’s just how people told their stories, their traumas: succinctly yet forthcomingly. Besides all that, Tim was pulled back to amusement as Sims managed to stick his foot in his mouth after the poor woman had finished by telling her to her face he didn’t believe her. It of course was very in character for Jon, but there were times when Tim wished that he would at least exercise a little bit of tact when it came to interacting with other people when they were obviously struggling. Then came the closing remarks and for as much as Sims tried to deny the reality of the Statement, he had a literal piece of evidence in his hand as he finished up. After they were finished with the tape, they had pestered Jon that if he ever tried to pull what Sims had with a Statement giver, they would put him in the doghouse for a week. He had hemmed and hawed, but eventually caved to the pressure and agreed to be more “lovely” to the people who came in their stories, particularly ones that were obviously more than they seemed. 

Then on Friday, Sasha had agreed to come with him to the hospital to visit Sims, and he actually was conscious for long enough to get Daniel involved. It was a relief to hear after Sims had conked out that his progress was good. Then on Monday of the current week, they had all sat down and listened to the fourteenth tape, to the various degrees of distress of them all. It had started normally, Sims introducing the Statement, then reading it, then listing the follow-up. But this time he had really laid in on Blackwood. Well, more precisely he had implied that Blackwood would be better to the Archives dead and chopped into pieces than in any other capacity, and their Martin looked quietly resigned to his fate. Jon had looked… not upset per say, but he definitely didn’t look like he fully agreed with his alternate version. While Jon and Martin still didn’t get along well, their weekly tape bonding time seemed to have proven at least a little to Jon that his professional walls were less necessary than he seemed to have initially anticipated. Similarly, it had proven that Martin excelled at drawing connections between events and themes that even the three researchers would miss (at least when he was allowed to have an opinion and when he wanted to engage in the corkboard shenanigans). Thus, while Jon still seemed dismissive of Martin’s work, there was a marked difference between how he treated him now versus how he had treated him during the first month in the Archives. But, Jon also didn’t fully disagree with Sims either, and while didn’t say anything supporting Sims’ decisions, he also didn’t decry them like Tim and Sasha did. The whole ending of the tape had left a bad taste in their mouths, and Tim had found himself ranting to a sleeping Sims about the tape later that day after work.

But what had Tim sitting beside Sims wishing the man would magically get up and start talking with him, was what had happened two days later when the woman from the 13th tape arrived in the Archives. See, Tim knew that events had been lining back up with the tapes recently. While the start had sent ripple effects through the order of the Statements they catalogued, within about 2 months they had gone more in line with the tapes: the tapes being about one week or so ahead of their time. (That meant of course if something were to go wrong, they would only have a week to prepare.) But he had been able to mostly ignore the trend and instead focus on the connections they were scrambling to find in the Statements. But of course, having the actual Naomi Herne in the Archives to give a Statement really made it all feel far too real. Tim found himself in Sims’ hospital room because now that Tim had tangible and irrefutable evidence that the tapes were not just silly happenstance or a fun alternate history; he needed to know how Sims got the point where he was falling through reality into the past looking like… that . And why it was only him. And why he was blinded by something spooky. And what could Tim do to make sure none of whatever that was, happened to the rest of them?

Of course, Sims was unconscious right at the moment Tim wanted to ask him these things. And of course even if he was conscious, he still hadn’t made a sound, much less a word or a sentence or a conversation. Thus, Tim was left once again with worries but no one to tell. He was startled out of his brooding though, when Sims gently stirred on the bed. Tim reached for Sims’ less blemished hand and said, “Hey boss the second”. Despite knowing Sims couldn’t see it, Tim gave him a smile, which grew more honest once Sims gently squeezed his hand. “Have a good nap?” Then, in a most surprising turn of events, Sims huffed out a laugh and managed a small smile whilst giving Tim’s hand another squeeze. Now, the “laugh” was more of a heavy exhalation, but it was the closest Sims had managed to get to making noise or emoting at all since he had appeared in their reality, and Tim wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. With a more sincerity in his tone than he had probably ever used for anyone other than Danny and Sasha he replied, “that’s great! I’m happy to hear that Jon.”  Silence fell between them as Jon grasped at Tim’s hand, and Tim felt the buzz of questions he couldn’t ask behind his eyes.

He finally settled on just doing what he had been doing previously, which was bemoaning what had become of his life. “Well, if you want me to stop at any point just give my hand a good squeeze. Otherwise I’ll just assume you love listening to my voice. If you’re really feeling feisty though, feel free to say something, though don’t push yourself alright?” He felt Sims give his hand a light squeeze, seemingly wanting to show he was still awake but not wanting him to stop, and thus coming out indecisive. “Sounds like a plan then!” With that, Tim talked about the last week and a half to Sims, explaining how the physical presence of Naomi Herne really put into perspective what they were dealing with. He did his best to ease into it, but the moment he had described the future telling tapes Sims had locked up on the bed and had Tim’s hand in a stranglehold. Tim had thought Sims had been conscious the last time they had explained the tapes, but apparently he had not, seeing as he was now shaking on the bed and the heart monitor was beeping far too fast. He knew that if he didn’t get Sims calmed soon he’d have Daniel and Dr. Doyle on his case for “stressing the patient”.

“Sims, buddy, are you still with me?” No change. 

“Sims?” Still nothing. 

“Jon?” Sims flinched and his grip loosened for a moment before going back to a stranglehold. But now he was looking in Tim’s vague direction, breathing growing deeper as the heart monitor slowed down slowly. 

“Jon, you back with me?” Sims released a pent up sigh, and finally loosened his hold on Tim’s hand. Tim was sure if he had the energy he would have nodded, but as it stood Sims seemed suddenly to have lost most of his energy in that moment. “I’m glad. But I definitely wasn’t planning on exercising your heart today like that. Have I not told you yet about the tapes that appeared with you?”

Sims looked panicky again, and clutched his hand tightly (though it was noticeably less than even just a few moments prior). Then he clutched again and then once more, seemingly trying to emphasise his ignorance on the subject. “Okay, okay, alright…” muttered Tim, putting his other hand atop their joined ones.

“So, as you’ve probably gathered, you appeared in Document Storage about 3 months ago now. You’ve been in the hospital since then, but you didn’t appear by yourself; you also were covered in cassette tapes. Like the ones we record Statements to.” Sims’ breathing was picking up again, but Tim could see the panic wasn’t as evident this time. Either because Sims was trying to control it more, or because he was physically too tired to panic as much outwardly. “So far they’ve just been near identical copies of the Statements we’ve been putting to tape, though there were more deviations closer to when you landed than now.” 

Tim paused again to assess and saw the panic beginning to cause problems again. “We’re okay! Everything’s been fine! Nothing spookier than reading statements and calling up people who would rather not talk to us.” Sims looked to be getting himself back under control again, though now with a look of weary frustration that made him look exactly like Jon did after a long and unfruitful day at the office. Tim knew they were the same person, and of course outside of the horrendous scarring and heavy greying of hair, they also looked the same, but Sims hadn’t shown any of the stubbornness or prickliness that Jon most certainly would have tried to pull upon waking in the hospital. Not that Tim had any experience with that, but he knew what Jon was like sick (a miserable patient at the best of times). So it was almost relieving to see some of Jon in this future clone of his. (And how was it Tim's life that that sentence made sense?) 

"I mean, I say all this, but I had been able to kind of ignore the signs and pretend that we weren’t just living in lockstep with whatever reality you already lived through until this week." Sims cocked an eyebrow, though he was still shaky. ‘Smarmy bastard’, Tim thought affectionately. “Yeah yeah,” Tim replied aloud, gently waving away Sims’ scepticism with his free hand. “I know. I should know better. Or at least be more like Sasha when it comes to this stuff.” Tim grinned ruefully, and tried to share a look of understanding with Sims. But he found a chunk of ice settled in the pit of his stomach as Sims just gave him a look of resigned confusion. Nope. No, not going there. Not right now.

Tim chuckled half heartedly and gently pat Sims’ hand. “Well just trust me on this one then. But Ms. Herne stopping by today to give her Statement right on time really freaked me out. Having the evidence that the tapes are only about a week ahead of what we’re doing is just really not great. If it was a couple of months or a day ahead, I think I might be handling it better? Like, if it was a couple of months out I could probably forget about it and move on with my life: let it play out like it was destined to or whatever. If it was only a day or two, I would be able to try and do something right away right? I’d have something I could do right away or take action on. But with it being just over a week at times, it’s too much like watching a train crash. You can see it coming, you know what’s about to happen, but there is nothing you can do. You… you just have to stand there and watch .” Tim could feel his breath growing ragged, though the rising panic took far more of his attention than everything else.

There was a sudden pressure on his hand, and Tim looked back down at Sims to see his concerned face looking back. Concerned and sympathetic, which, okay… a little odd that. Did Sims know why Tim would panic over standing and watching something happen? No, no he couldn’t, could he? No, he must just be sympathising with Tim having a borderline panic attack in front of him. Right after his own to boot. Yeah.

Tim was pulled out of his thoughts again by the insistent squeeze from Sims, and he was finally able to pull himself back together to say quietly, “Thanks Sims.” Then, with a sigh, Tim was able to re-don the mask of light hearted trickster. “Glad you’re getting in your hand exercises today! Keep this up, and you’ll be back on your feet in no time.” Sims smiled and huffed out another almost laugh, before seeming to settle back down for another nap.

“Yeah, I have been keeping you up, haven’t I? Sleep well Doc Brown.” Sims quirked an eyebrow at that, and Tim let out an actual chuckle. “Okay, knowing you, you definitely haven’t seen Back to the Future yet. Remind me to force you to sit down and watch that series. Or at least read the wikipedia page to you, since I know you much prefer that most times to actually watching the movie.”

Sims pouted, but the unmistakable tilt of his lips indicated his amusement at Tim’s deduction. But as Tim had noticed, he definitely seemed tired as the smile slowly melted off his face into an expression of peace. Tim had admittedly seen Jon only look that peaceful when he would fall asleep at work, so it was unsurprising that Sims shared the expression.

Now that Sims was asleep, Tim felt it best to head out, seeing as Sims would more than likely sleep for at least an hour, and Tim did not feel like staring at the sleeping clone of his boss in silence. (Not that he hadn't technically done that previously, but there was a greater need for silence when the patient could actually wake up because of loud noises in his hospital room.) So he glanced at his watch to check the time, and was astounded to see that his visit had managed to go past visiting hours. In fact, Daniel would more than likely have left already for the day with how late he was here. It was odd Daniel hadn't alerted him to the end of visiting hours, but he did vaguely remember about a month or two ago Daniel had agreed to not warn him about the visiting hours if he really wanted to risk meeting the night nurse. For once in Tim’s life, he was hoping to dodge a social interaction.

So with all the skills he had cultivated back in Research, Tim quietly made his way out of the chair and across the room to the door. He looked down the hall to see the nursing station, but unfortunately the angle from the door frame was too shallow to actually see into the station. Tim mentally crossed his fingers, hoping that he would be able to make his way without interruption out of the hospital, both from the night nurse and from the general nursing staff in the rest of the building. It had been a long day, okay? Sometimes, after a long day, Tim just wanted to go home and not have to deal with nosey nurses.

Tim eyed the rest of the visible hallway, as he debated if he should go back and hit the “call nurse” button on Jon’s bed. That way he could try hiding in the room across the hall till she was distracted looking in on Jon to make a break for it. But that seemed like a good way to get caught, and he didn’t think he’d be able to smooth talk his way out of that one. Better to smooth talk his way out if confronted for being there after hours, instead of also having to explain why he was trying to re-enact a Bond movie as the German spy. So Tim made his way calmly towards the nurses’ station. He knew he was in sight of it, but the infamous night nurse hadn’t called out to him yet; that is until he was beginning to physically pass alongside it.

“And what are you doing here this late?” asked a biting female voice from beside him.

Tim felt himself jump at the suddenness of her query, but tried to plaster on his friendliest smile as he turned to face her. “Oh, just talking with John! I lost track of time, and nurse Daniel neglected to let me know the time before he left tonight. Now, if you’ll excuse me~!” He tried to start heading out again, but he felt something (or in this case someone) snag the hem of his shirt. He quickly came to a stop and turned back to free himself, angry words on the tip of his tongue…

“No, not yet at least. I want to you listen, and listen good.” There was a dangerous glint in her eye as she said this, and Tim noticed the hand not latched onto his clothing was holding something metal. He couldn’t quite tell what it was because he didn’t want to look away from the woman’s face. She sneered at him in undisguised disgust, and Tim found himself slowly backing away from her. But before he could try to make a break for the exit, she had brandished the scalpel she was apparently holding towards his throat. 

“Listen, lady, I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding okay? I’m just gonna go, and I promise not to stay late again, okay?” Tim babbled earnestly, mentally calculating how to disarm her without risking needing a hospital stay at the very hospital he was currently in.

“Stop. Talking.”

“Shutting up!”

While the nurse seemed to look Tim over, Tim did the same to her, noting the tremble of the blade that still hovered a few inches away from his neck. He also took note of her name tag for later, since he might be able to ask Sasha to dig up some dirt on this Abigail Fanshawe woman. Then with a sigh, she seemed to resolve herself and said, “I will only say this once, and it’s up to you to pass it along to your little Eye friends. In particular, if you send the Archivist sniffing around here for me, I will make sure both of you are never found.

“Never let me catch you here at night again. I can’t force the others to keep you away during the day, but so help me God, I will find a way to make sure you never step foot in here again with this patient if it’s the last thing I do. All you Magnus Institute types ruin everything you touch, so I will do what I can to keep this man safe, and that includes making sure everyone from your Institute stays far, far away. Do I make myself clear?”

Tim wasn’t sure if he was allowed to speak yet, so he gave a shallow nod.

Abigail nodded back and said, “Good. You are allowed to leave.” As she said it, she flipped down the scalpel and hid it back wherever she had pulled it from. “I hope we never meet again.”

Tim took his chance and booked it.

Chapter Text

Jon stared dolefully at the mountain of paperwork beginning to cascade off his desk in all directions. He had taken a total of 0 days off since his promotion to the Archives and yet he was still woefully behind. There were times (more than he'd like to admit to) where he wondered if he would ever actually get the Archives in order before his eventual retirement. As it stood, however, he just assumed (and joked with the others) that he would be cleaning up Gertrude's mess till he was dead and buried.

Currently, he was trying to distract himself from his job. Specifically the part of his job that required him to read and then research horrifying tales of woe. Even if they were all fake. But mostly he just didn't want to listen to the next tape with his coworkers, as it was that time of the week again.

While the contents of the tapes were no more horrifying than their paper counterparts, Jon could no longer deny that they were somehow predicting the future. The kind of elaborate hoops anyone at all would have to go through to make a tape that included his voice from apparently the future without his knowledge or consent and without it actually being from the future were so beyond the scope of his imagination, that he had quit trying to deny their veracity after the first two months. But that left him with the uncomfortable knowledge that the mysterious man at the hospital was himself, and that whatever had happened to him was frighteningly visible. Suddenly, the tapes were not just a view into what had happened to the stranger in the hospital, but were now also about himself. About his life, and where it would be heading. 

It felt completely different, listening to himself making choices instead of being the one to initially make the choice, if that made any sense. Unfortunately for him, his luck had seemingly been going consistently downhill these last few weeks, as Tim had come into work two to three weeks ago adamant that Jon was not allowed to visit the stranger at the hospital. Or if he ever were to try, under no circumstance do so after visiting hours. When asked by Martin and Sasha what had happened that had convicted him so, Tim had offhandedly remarked that the night-nurse was very compelling whilst still looking shaken. In addition, the woman who the tapes had foretold he would meet had showed up. 

If he had a smidgeon of energy for self reflection, he would have tried to be more understanding than his alternate counterpart had been with her. Needless to say, he played back into the tapes with nary a deviation. Also needless to say that his coworkers were unanimously disappointed with him. Which… He knew he should feel something about that other than tired, but doing both a paper Statement and a Tape every week was keeping him on the brink of collapse.

While his coworkers seemed to understand, there were times he would catch Sasha and Tim eyeing Document Storage. (They had decided within the last week or two to keep the Tapes there to minimise temptation from all parties to go messing with them outside of the appointed lunch time listening. He wondered at times why they did so. The obvious answer that they didn’t trust him didn’t bear thinking about. It was all he ever contemplated.) But, all that aside, he found himself dreading the appointed time for listening to the next Tape. He had been getting worse and worse feelings about the tapes, which were only mirrored by their paper counterparts. Of course, he said nothing to his assistants about the feelings, as raving about gut feelings to his coworkers was a one way street to getting {institutionalised}. That, and admitting that he was far more credulous about the strange things that the Institute researched would probably convince them he had been replaced. (Particularly since Tim had begun trying to connect all the Statements thus far that had anything to do with the uncanny valley or being replaced by something or related to skin).

If there was one good thing that had come from the Tapes though, it was the pooling of resources amongst them all. “The Board”, as they had all come to refer to it, was coming along nicely if Jon had anything to say about it. Full of sticky notes, string, and polaroids, it was a conspiracy theorist’s wet dream and about as helpful. Each of them had a bit of a pet theory about why the Statements were detrimental to Jon’s health, but they all agreed to one degree or another that if a statement didn’t record to a digital device, it was the real deal and something horrifying must be behind it. Now, admittedly, Jon wasn’t giving his assistants all the information about his position as he could for their section of the Board about the Institute. Recently, he’d been having recurring nightmares about both Mr. Holmes and Ms. Herne (though in Daniel’s case it had been recurring for significantly longer than Naomi’s, but it had taken him weeks before he even caught on that he was having nightmares related to what the nurse had told them about the intake of his doppelganger to the hospital), and while he was still chalking them up to his subconscious worries about his job and the horrifying things he had to read about all day, there was a growing part of him that was certain it was more than just subconscious paranoia behind very specifically these two instances. Of course, the only way to be sure would be to gather more examples, but Jon was terrified that if he did so on purpose there would be permanent consequences. (What those were, he couldn’t even guess, but it was the persistent feeling that there would be no return after he made that decision that kept his curiosity in check).

But that was besides the point. The point was that the Board was bringing them together in ways Jon had initially been sceptical about. Sasha and Tim were of course the power houses behind keeping the Board updated, but Martin had been surprisingly good at drawing connections between different and seemingly unaffiliated items on it. He had been horrendous at all other parts of the process of course, and about the only thing Martin could do better than making connections on a board was making tea. …Not that Jon thinks Martin is lesser for it, seeing as the tea Martin makes is probably still the best Jon’s ever had in his life.

Suddenly, there was a quick tapping at Jon's door, and before he could even think about inviting whoever it was in, there was Sasha grinning from ear to ear, barging into his office. "Hey Jon! Are you ready for another Tape today?"

Jon could almost hear the capital letter on that word, and wished he couldn't. "As ready as I shall ever be I suppose."

Sasha stopped and gave Jon a look over. While her gaze wasn't like anything like the one that seemed to be watching him at all times while he was at the Institute, he still felt incredibly seen in a way that he was beginning to get more used to. His coworkers had definitely been keeping a close eye on his health (which he attributed more to their desire to listen to the Tapes than any actual honest desire that he continue to do well in his lower moments), but Jon found he was minding it less over time. He liked to think it meant they still cared. Even if them caring about him was irrelevant to trying to get the Archives in order, of course. (He still wasn’t good at lying to himself). As she looked, she transitioned from serious to “serious” as she stroked her chin contemplatively and slowly crept closer. Externally, Jon sighed, but internally he was happy to see she thought he was doing alright.

Finally, after Sasha was practically toe to toe with Jon, she nodded once and gave him a large smile. “You’re certainly looking ready!” With that, she gently patted his shoulder and about faced, her hair gently swiping his chin as she left the room. When he didn’t immediately follow, she called out, “come on Jon! We have a mystery to solve!” Jon gently shook his head in exasperation and forced himself to head towards the breakroom for lunch. They had another Tape to listen to, after all.

-

The team settled around the table in their now familiar configuration, and as had become their routine they ate and chatted first before getting to the Tape. If there was a perfect way of putting someone off of eating, it would be reading or listening to any of the Statements right before it was time to eat. But this time served a secondary purpose: it allowed the team to catch up after the weekend and review their week, and find out how close the last Tape lined up with reality (far too closely nowadays). Even if Jon found himself keeping quiet for the most part whilst Tim, Sasha, and Martin carried the conversation, he was content with it because they would still reach out. And for every even half committal response he gave, Martin at least seemed to double down on his efforts. Tim and Sasha seemed to know that he could do better on that front, but Martin's enthusiasm for trying to reach out an olive branch seemed to galvanise them to do the same, seeing as he was still responding positively instead of the more antagonistic responses he had been giving back during the first month.

Jon was reluctantly coming out of his shell because of all this. While at the start he had promised himself he would devote himself entirely to doing well in Mr. Bouchard’s eyes, and would act as professionally as possible so that Elias wouldn’t regret putting him in the position; Jon instead was beginning to focus more on the mystery of the Tapes and the implications of his body double. The problem with the Tapes was that they seemed to almost mock him, putting into stark relief his little imperfections that made him unsuitable for the job; while at the same time he had a literal body double still not disappearing that Tim and Sasha were visiting every week that proved… something which Jon could not place but made him feel as if he were being replaced. Which was silly, he knew, because they were technically the same person and he had been initially trying to distance himself anyways, so what would he have expected to happen?

Before he could spiral too far, Sasha pulled out the tape player and thumped it onto the break room table. Jon flinched in unconscious sympathy for the machine from the rough handling, but Sasha did not seem terribly apologetic even after Jon’s subsequent stern look.

“Right, looks like we’re all basically done and ready to go,” she announced, and Jon realised with a sudden sinking feeling that she was right as he looked down to see his finished lunch and corresponding dirty dishes. He must have been so caught up in his thoughts that he had finished without noticing. "So that means it's time for the next Tape!" Sasha continued with what Jon could only hazard was cheer. With that, she looked meaningfully at Jon, and he sighed. Damn he wasn't ready for this. With a grimace, he got up and went to retrieve the Tape. He distantly heard Tim call out to not get lost whilst Sasha insisted that he make sure to get Tape 016 (as if he was not acutely aware which Tape they were on). He ignored them and retrieved the Tape, ardently also ignoring the nausea beginning to percolate in his gut. This job was going to be the death of him.

Within no time at all, Jon returned with the Tape to a room of expectant gazes. Sasha looked eager, Tim his usual cheerfulness, and Martin looked politely intrigued. Focusing on what needed to be done, Jon sat back down at his spot at the table and took the tape player from Sasha. After a moment of hesitation, and Martin hesitantly asking, “...Jon?”; Jon put the Tape into the player, set the player in the centre of the table, and pressed play.

---

Tim knew it was going to be rough after the Tape was done the moment Sims stated the subject would be about arachnophobia. It was a long standing fact amongst the Researchers that Jon was terrified of spiders. Not even like a normal amount, it was straight “climb atop a desk and threaten to throw his shoe at it” terrified. Which, after the one time Tim saw that happen, he knew he'd never let Jon live it down. But by the same token, as amusing as it was to see his very uptight coworker climb atop a desk, well… let's just say Tim was acutely aware that everyone in Research was there for a reason. Or well… most everyone, but it was obvious to Tim that Jon had his secrets just as Tim had his own. Just that instead of clowns it was spiders.

As the Tape progressed, Tim watched Jon look increasingly uncomfortable, though Tim didn’t think either Sasha or Martin noticed. (There was a reason that Tim was known as the “Jon whisperer”, even if he had been somewhat distancing himself on purpose as Jon continued to keep him and Sasha and Martin at a distance). Tim found himself amused near the end, though, by Sims' absolute denial of the Statement whole cloth by apparently claiming that a man could be utterly encased in web and that choking to death on spiders was a natural occurrence. Tim found himself thinking that Jon embodied the first of the 5 stages of grief to a T. Once the Tape finished, Tim found that he couldn't help himself and snickered at the thought that Jon would try to deny such an obviously supernatural occurrence, spider trauma be damned.

Of course, Jon immediately noticed and asked somewhat petulantly, "yes, Timothy? Do you have anything you want to share with the group?"

“C’mon boss, really? You’re going to tell me that another version of you actually told Martin with a straight face that there is a “perfectly natural explanation” for Mr. Vittery being completely encased in webs?” Tim kept up his incredulous grin, despite Jon’s deadpan stare not moving an inch. ‘Surely,’ Tim thought, ‘even Jon has his limits. He can’t really earnestly believe that guy died naturally?’

Seemingly undaunted by the bounds of normal scepticism, Jon quirked a single eyebrow and retorted in the same tone he used previously, “But Mr. Stoker. I am quite sure there is a perfectly natural explanation for Mr. Vittery being encased in webs after a week of being unattended in his flat.”

“No…” Tim vocalised his thoughts unintentionally as the shock made way to confusion. Jon was stubborn, this he knew well, but this stubborn? This was an extreme that even Tim struggled to rationalise. Obviously, things had been… difficult in the Archives since they all moved down, and the Tapes had only helped to bring them together marginally. Mostly, they were still just as diverging as they were at the start, and the friction caused by the lingering disagreements had been festering. Still, the added stress of these Tapes should not be pushing Jon to hide this much surely? “You can’t be that much of a sceptic?”

Jon sniffed primly and gave Tim the Look that always riled Tim up. “You will find Tim, that I can . In fact, it is perfectly reasonable for a man to be completely encased in spider webs after a week of being dead in an infested flat.”

Tim snorted incredulously, and when Jon was still giving Tim the deadpan stare, he threw up his hands in only partial mock despair. “Well boss, next time we find out someone choked to death on spiders,” Tim only just barely noticed Jon’s flinch at that, “we’ll be sure to chalk it up to ‘very normal and completely understandable ways to kick the bucket’”.

"I wouldn't quite say, 'choked to death on spiders'..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, choked to death on one spider then."

Jon flinched a little more visibly this time, and Tim thought even Sasha and Martin must have noticed. Especially since Martin was giving him a look that Tim was translating to 'be nice or else's, and Sasha was studying Jon with even more scrutiny than usual. But Jon continued on obliviously, as he added, "you know that's not what I meant. And even so, need I remind you that we haven't looked into this one yet, so we only have the final notes from the research here to draw conclusions from? We could very well find a new clue that points away from that unfortunate conclusion, or even that it never happened here in the first place."

Tim sighed in despair, but let Jon have it. If Jon was going to be this unreasonable at the mention of spiders, Tim guessed that was it. He wasn't going to force Jon to confront his trauma or whatever just to prove a point. If Jon wanted to be as blind as his alternate counterpart because he was what, scared? Regardless, trying to "fix" Jon was outside of his wheelhouse, even back when they were in Research.

"Aaaaaanyways!" Drawled Sasha. "Looks like we've got a new Statement coming up! On the plus side, the research for it doesn't sound quite as bad as this week's is going to be."

"I-Isn't this week's s-supposed to be just talking with the county park officials about the P-Popham case?" Asked Martin.

"Yeah, but we'll probably have to get into the police records again to get the audio recording."

Tim felt a sly smile creeping over his face, even as the empty feeling that always accompanied his seducing efforts nipped at his mental heels. “Oh that’ll be no problem!” Tim gave his usual salacious wink at the insinuation of what he planned to do and got 3 eye rolls and 2 blushes. (Truly, Tim expected that from both Martin and Jon, even if asked Jon would take to the grave that he had done so. Or he wouldn’t even have realised he’d done so. It was a bit of a coin toss that one.)

But as expected, Sasha waved him off. “Sure, but that still leaves trying to phone a potentially grieving father and some more than likely uncooperative park rangers to deal with.”

“I doubt it will be any more difficult than any of the other Statements we’ve covered so far down here. In fact, we have been ‘gifted’ with foresight as to what we can expect to find in our investigations, so I wouldn’t think there’s cause to complain too loudly,” added Jon with his usual dry wit. Tim glanced over and noticed that Jon was looking a little less pale, and seemed to be getting his feet back under him. Tim tried to tell himself that he didn't care that much that Jon was getting better, but Tim could only take so much bs in a day, and Jon had already been pushing it on his own without Tim himself adding to the mix.

"Sounds like we've got an addition to the Board at any rate!" Added Tim, hoping to get back to business.

Jon scowled whilst the other two jokingly rolled their eyes. "I dislike that you have managed to verbally capitalise the word "board", and I rather wish you would attempt to be more professional about such things."

Tim chuckled, and allowed himself some levity as he replied, "would you rather I call it "The Spooky Board"? Because I would love to, boss!" At Jon’s scowl somehow managing to etch itself even deeper into his face, Tim knew he was on the right track. Because peeping in under the scowl was the “blink and you’ll miss it” fondness Jon would deny to his dying day. “Oh, I know! We’ll call it the “Ultimate Conspiracy Thread Board of Ultimate Destiny”.” 

To this Jon groaned theatrically and put his metaphorical foot down. “I refuse.” He stated. “To allow our professional research aid to be named after a meme .”

Tim finally let loose his building laughter, and Sasha was quick to let out a short bark of a laugh, though she was equally as quick to rein herself in and give Jon a commiserating glance. Martin seemed hesitant to join in, but the slight smile that was slipping through the nervous cracks belied his true feelings about the whole situation. Jon just fumed in his seat, but Tim was still happy to see that Jon didn’t seem to have any of the hallmarks of being truly put out over their jokes, seeing as there was still the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. 

With that, the atmosphere felt lighter than it had all day, and Tim felt a little less like they were all staring into the abyss. 

“How about we just keep calling it the board till we come up with something b-better?” supplied Martin, and Tim felt his estimation of the man go up. It was nice, at times, to have a peace maker in their midst, helping to keep them all from ostracising each other. Back in Research, Tim had befriended Jon at a low point in his life, and only after some time had his more playful side come out. Then after Sasha had joined their little group, Tim and Sasha had jointly kept the other from stepping too hard on Jon’s toes. But after Sasha was overlooked for the promotion, neither of them were trying very hard to keep Jon in mind. Now Martin was stepping up to the plate, even if he only seemed to get abuse for it from Jon, and Tim found himself both selfishly happy and somewhat frustrated that Martin refused to take care of himself.

Jon sighed as if the idea were only barely up to snuff and said, "I suppose that will have to do." With that he stood up and looked around to each of them as he continued. "Well, with that, I should be getting back to work. I hope the rest of you don't dilly dally in here for much longer as we have a schedule to upkeep."

Tim and Sasha both waved him off, and Tim added, "don't you worry boss. We'll head back to our desks in a moment." Jon gave them all another look before leaving the room entirely.

As the door clicked behind him, Tim let go a heavy sigh. He slumped back into his seat and groaned, "fuuuuck me, that was a rough one innit?"

Sasha leaned over and patted him on the back in her most sympathetic manner. "Could have been worse you know! Jon could have tried to prove that Mr. Vittery died naturally without any evidence to back himself up."

Tim groaned again, and half heartedly tried to give her a friendly swat on the shoulder. “Near enough! Boss heard the word 'spiders' and all sense ran out of the room. He's going to be impossible to work with the rest of today."

"I-I know you've told me in the past that he doesn't like spiders. A-and I know you mentioned the severity… b-but-" stammered Martin.

"You thought I was exaggerating right? Yeah, I like to think I'm exaggerating myself most times I think of it. But Boss can and will climb furniture to get away from spiders, and the only thing now that might affect it is his current obsession with looking professional."

“Now that I think about it, I’m surprised that we haven’t encountered any spiders down here yet…” pondered Sasha aloud.

“Ah-”

Tim looked over at an embarrassed looking Martin. He felt mischievousness rising up at the implication that Martin had been fielding Jon’s spiders on their behalf. “Ooooh, does Martin have anything he wants to share with the class about how many spiders he’s found before Jon can?”

“They are good friends who only help the local ecosystem and I just want to make sure that they’re safely in places that allow for peaceful coexistence,” huffed Martin, seemingly thinking that Tim and Sasha would agree with Jon that all spiders are little terrors. Which, fair dues. Sasha might be fairly ambivalent towards spiders in that they were a good research rabbit hole when she was bored, but Tim was ambivalent till they were in the room. At that point, he found himself ill at ease and quite willing to “remove” the spider in whatever way seemed easiest. In any case, he never tried to push Jon the spider thing because there were just some things you didn’t push people on.

“You tried that line on Jon yet?” asked Tim out of a sense of morbid curiosity. If Martin had Tim had managed to miss the explosion and he was kind of sorry if he had.

Martin wobbled his hand in a so-so gesture. “The opportunity hasn’t r-really arisen yet, but I plan on trying to help him… u-understand the good part of spiders so that he might be able to start working towards being less terrified of spiders.”

Sasha, with a gleam in her eye that Tim wasn’t sure he liked, said, “In that case, maybe when we finally get to the Vittery case, you could go the extra mile and see if you can find evidence that Jon can’t deny! That way you can show there’s a difference between spooky spiders and regular spiders.”

Martin had a look on his face that meant he was considering this line of tomfoolery and Tim suddenly had a moment of realisation that if he didn’t put a stop to this, Martin might do something really stupid. “Woah there, let’s take this one case at a time! We’ve still got ‘claustrophobia’ the case we need to research this week. And I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to thank my lucky stars when we can put this one to rest and none of us have to listen to that recording by Laura Popham.”

The other two nodded along, but Martin was still looking thoughtful. Damnit. With that, Martin stood up and announced, “w-well, I should be getting back to work.” He gave the room a wry smile. “Jon’ll have my head… again if I don’t have this case on his desk by the end of the day.” Martin then left to the waving goodbye of Sasha and Tim.

Tim then turned to Sasha. “Okay, what was that?”

Sasha gave him a confused look. “What was what?”

“ That . That thing about how Martin should go looking deeper into the Vittery case because of Jon and his spider hangups.”

“Oooooh, that thing!” Sasha gave him a look that he interpreted as looking for trouble. “Well…. Martin has a crush, and I figured I’d give him an opportunity to try and break through Jon’s shell a little. If Martin does extra work on the Vittery case, maybe Jon will finally realise how much work Martin’s been doing around the office, and we can finally have something interesting happen in this office!” While Tim had never thought Sasha was particularly inclined towards matchmaking, he knew she instead ate privacy for lunch and actively sought out secrets of the personal kind. Which, he didn’t feel great about, but he was willing to give it a pass, seeing as she hadn’t (that he knew of) used that information for “evil”. However, this was edging from passive to aggressive, and Tim had less happy feelings about that.

“Now Sash,” Tim pouted, figuring a more laid back approach would do. “What have we discussed before about using people’s private matters for our own entertainment?”

Sasha gave an over dramatic sigh, but was still smiling as she replied, “to not to. BUT!” Here she gestured towards the thankfully closed breakroom door. “If I have to listen to Martin pine both on and off the Tapes, I think I’m going to flip!”

Tim shook his head in a jokingly solemn manner. “Ah but Sasha, we don’t even know if Martin’s going to show up on the Tapes! And Jon’s certainly in no mood to be open to love at a time like this. Plus,” Tim allowed himself a moment of honesty. “Who even knows if Martin’s interested in Jon in the first place. He makes all of us tea, not just Jon, and I think the poor man just wants Jon to stop jumping down his throat at every given opportunity. Man’s trying to get close to Jon because of self preservation, not romancing, me thinks.”

Sasha hummed in a way that Tim knew she didn’t believe him, and that was fine. Tim was always willing to admit that while he generally got people, he didn’t necessarily “get” them. If he wanted a quick lay and some useful information, it truly wasn’t hard in the slightest to woo some file clerk or office middle manager to get what he wanted. But ask him to understand the long term intricacies of romance and how one actually went about establishing a solid relationship and he’d give you the doe in the headlights look. (Which, when it came to having something long-term with Sasha sucked, but he’d get there. The start of something had been in Research, and while Tim had pulled back after the terrible news that Sasha wasn’t getting promoted so that they could both focus on the Archives initially in a bid to make the working environment a little less toxic; he had promised himself that once things were settled… Well she wouldn’t wait forever and honestly neither would he.) In any case, he knew from Research he had a bad habit of assigning feelings in the wrong boxes with other people. Seeing romance where there was none, platonic when the other person definitely wanted to take the other person to the bedroom, etcetera. But Tim was fairly certain he was spot on with Martin right now. Maybe someday the lad would get up the gumption to try wooing their boss, but at the moment he was just trying not to get fired if Tim had to guess. He’d talked with Sasha about what she had found out about Martin previously (like a week or two ago at a guess), and if it were him anyways, he’d be finding every possible way to make sure Jon had no reason to find out just how egregiously he’d lied on his CV.

Sasha’s voice suddenly cut through his musings with, “Speaking of self preservation, we should probably get back to work before Mr. Grouch comes back out of his office wondering where over half his office is.”

Tim glanced at the wall clock and noticed the time. It was definitely later than he had intended to stay in the breakroom by a significant margin. “Shit. Right you are! Off to the torture part of the dungeon. Can’t be late for our daily questioning session with the Statements!”

Sasha snickered at the terrible joke as they made their way back to the office. “Not sure how I feel about being equated with the Inquisition.”

Tim waved away the concern. “The statements deserve it.”

With that, they went back to their desks snickering quietly and did their best to focus back in on work. It was going to be a long week of it after all.

Chapter Text

Sims once again found himself in the liminal space between waking and sleeping. Shockingly, said space was still not filled with the nightmares of other people, nor was he being watched by an omnipresent Eye as he had thought he would be. It had been over 4 years since his dreams were his own, plus an unfathomable amount of time spent in the apocalypse, so the idea that he could sleep even a little bit peacefully had become utterly foreign to him. But here he was, able to contemplate these things in the soft darkness between waking and sleeping, without the Eye barging in and force feeding him horrors. It had to be too good to be true, and yet this wasn't the first time this had happened.

If Sims were to estimate, he would guess that he had been waking up in this hospital bed for about a month and a half now, though one of his nurses had offhandedly mentioned he was nearing his 4th month bed bound. (Sims thinks the nurse's name was David? Dick? Higgins? He knows Tim at least seems quite familiar with him. Maybe he'll find a way to ask him.)

That led to another thing. Sims could now give very short verbal replies. He had been working with a speech therapist on top of all the other exercises his doctor had assigned him to do to start the process of recovering his mobility. While the going was slow, and while he was only now barely able to sit himself up in bed, the fact he could speak at all seemed a minor miracle after the initial prognosis Dr. Doyle had given him the first time they both had been in a room together while Sims was conscious.

Thinking back, Sims could remember how clinical the doctor seemed when discussing treatment options, like Sims was just another specimen to be saved and studied. But, however terrible his bedside manner was, Sims found that Dr. Doyle knew his medicine. Though the one treatment that Sims had given the doctor a firm "no" on was the eye surgery. Even though the doctor swore up and down that at least getting prosthetic mounts for his eye sockets wouldn't mean actually getting prosthetic eyes if he didn't want to, and that they would help with his quality of life after he left the hospital; Sims had fervently refused without actually telling the man why. But then, even if the man obviously was familiar with the Fears in some capacity, how could Jon explain he was scared the Eye would come back the moment there was even something tangentially related to an eye in his head again? Who was to say that other people seeing his closed eyes with no obvious reason to think he was blind would, by their beliefs that he had them till proven otherwise, in some way re-summon his connection with the Eye? The Fears worked on nightmare logic and belief after all, and he felt like he had learned his lesson on that front.

All this to say that Dr. Doyle stopped asking pretty quickly after the first 3 frantic no's back when the only things Sims could say were Yes and No. But there were plenty of other things the doctor could help him with instead, of course. An easy place to start was general mobility, now that Sims was beginning to spend more than a few minutes awake at a time. Of course, his hands were getting their workout most days, as Sims still preferred to squeeze his visitors’ hands over trying to verbally respond. It was easier. But now the doctor had graduated him to leg and arm exercises, with core muscles when possible. For example, “exercise” might be a stretch as it was mostly just the doctor moving his limbs and encouraging him to try and move them along with the doctor, but Sims was fairly certain he should be dead so any progress away from that fate seemed like a miracle.

Amongst this frustratingly exhausting series of physical exercises (that shouldn’t have been difficult if he hadn’t just slept through 2+ months) were the no less daunting mental ones. Seemingly every couple of times Jon would awaken, Tim and (less frequently) Sasha would be there to talk with him about their day. Of course, as he had quickly gathered, they were still working for the Archives, so talking about their day meant listening to all his mistakes happen again in real time. Since he still couldn't do much more than squeeze hands and say yes or no, there wasn't much he could do for them. And it hurt, knowing what was going to happen, but being unable to help them.

It was times like this that Sims wondered if by losing his connection to the Eye, he had finally stumbled into the Web's awaiting maw. After all, it was typical Web to instil this much powerlessness into its victims while still being able to say it's entirely the victims' fault this is happening to them. But if he spent the rest of his life contemplating if this was yet another trick of the Web, he had a feeling the "rest of his life" would be very short indeed.

Speaking of people attempting to run away from the Powers, Sims had managed to wake a few times now when the night nurse was in charge of looking after him. It was fairly infrequent, as she seemed to only come to his room at regular intervals or when Sims woke from a nightmare with a strangled scream. What little she had said to him indicated that she seemed to genuinely care whether he would escape the Fears, and Sims wondered if she hadn’t already guessed at how miraculous that statement was. But on the flip side she seemed almost too cautious of the Fears, and frequently liked to tell him when she must have thought him asleep about she wished she could keep the Magnus Archives people away from him. Sims wondered if he shouldn't at least try to bring his concerns up with the doctor about how he was becoming increasingly concerned that one of his nurses had it out for his only form of connection to the outside world. But Sims had a feeling that there was a reason that this particular nurse was on the night shift, and felt he should wait till she was actually planning harm and not just threatening it.

Which brought him back around to realising he had once again gotten lost in his thoughts. This wasn't new, as he had frequently done so after he had awoken from the coma and all he had had to do was read Statements and pine after Martin since it became increasingly less urgent to go looking for information about impending Apocalypses. But it irked him just a little that his usual ways of pulling himself out of a spiral were to visually reorient himself on something outside of himself. Of course, this was something he could no longer do for obvious reasons, and he found himself frustrated that he hadn't yet found an alternative. To prevent yet another spiral, Sims pinched himself as hard as he was able, and found to his pleasure that it actually hurt that time. Not much of course, but it was more than the slight discomfort he had feared would be indicative of his grip strength for the foreseeable future.

He tuned into his surroundings and noted that it was quiet. There didn't seem to be anyone else's breathing in the room, nor the telltale idle shuffling that followed all his visitors. (It hadn't occurred to Jon before just how much noise people made even when sitting still.) Instead, it was just him in the nothingness, and for a panicked moment Sims wondered if he was back in the Coffin, or even staring into Dark Sun. But a short automatic jerk of his limbs proved he wasn't in the Buried, nor was he standing and staring at the Dark Sun. He let out a sigh of relief and wished suddenly for a phone, or some way to check the time. He knew in theory he could hit the call button for the nurse's station to get whichever nurse on duty. That way even without asking he would know whether it was daytime or night, and whether he should make the effort to go back to sleep. He wanted to say he was developing a bit of a 6th sense for whether the sun was up, but unfortunately his window shades were apparently pulled in such a way that he couldn’t feel the sun when it was supposed to be streaming through his window. If there was one thing he wanted to communicate sooner rather than later, it was that he was, in fact, blind and would be unbothered by the sun in the mornings. He would prefer a sun tan to this sterile air conditioned hell he found himself in. But, goals for a later time, unfortunately.

As if the nurse on duty had heard his mental grumbling, Sims heard from down the hall the specific tread that trainers make on the tile hallway. At a guess, he wanted to say it was probably the day side nurse, since the steps were spaced a tiny bit farther apart and made a little more sound, like they were being made by someone a little heavier. Then again it could also be the doctor, depending on the time. Or-

The door opening cut into his thoughts, and he was unsurprised by the cheerful voice of the day side nurse. "Hello John! How are you holding up?"

Sims quickly reoriented towards trying to reply, as he both wanted to talk and by that same token practice talking. It was a strange thing to know how to do something, but then when it came time to actually do it, realise how dreadfully difficult it actually was if the muscle memory was gone. 

Yes, by some unfortunate quirk of fate, or maybe a trauma response, while Jon still knew how words worked and what he wanted to say to people, he found he had to deliberately plan out every muscle movement needed to make those words come out. Which, one would think it would be as simple as riding a bike, but for some reason the muscle memory just wasn't there anymore. So, short responses it is then.

"Well," he finally replied, Daniel already having long ago begun his usual battery of quick checkup tests. "You?" He attempted to gesture at him to help his point, but got an arm briefly to raise above the bed before dropping gracelessly back down onto the sheets. Jon heard an interested hum at that, and then Daniel went into his usual rambling response.

"Oh it's been a good day so far! Doc was busy in a different part of the hospital today, probably looking for a long term solution for some of your treatment options, so it was pretty quiet around here. Which honestly, makes it much simpler to get my daily afternoon nap in. You wouldn't believe how refreshing it is to conk off for like 30 minutes in the middle of the afternoon! Doesn't help that sleeping at night has been a bit of an effort in futility recently, and I've been half tempted to ask Abby if she'd be willing to switch shifts for a couple of months till my subconscious gets over itself.

"But that's all me stuff. The actual reason it's been so quiet is we've had only like, one patient the entire time you've been here and that thing was in and out of here in less than a day- "

"Nnnnni'marrre?" Sims slurred, pronunciation lost in his haste. He had been paying only partial attention till Daniel mentioned his ruined sleep schedule. Sims knew he was probably being paranoid, and he didn't know what he'd do with the information once he got it, but he knew he had never taken Daniel's Statement during his time as Archivist, and he didn't know what it meant if the man he almost didn't believe existed had done so instead and so early in his tenure… well, he was spiralling, so it was best to ask.

"Oh, yeah, but weirdly enough it's not the usual rotation of them either, just the moment we got you here and you miraculously healed yourself over and over again. Generally with that archivist guy standing in the corner watching the whole thing. Pretty weird, but no worse than the rest of my nightmares usually are."

And there it was, the proof that the Jon of this time had begun doing the unforgivable without even realising it potentially months before Sims ever did. While he knew he had had no control over where and when he had apparently fallen, he still felt a sense of guilt at indirectly being the cause of this man never getting a restful night of sleep ever again… or at least till something happened to Jon, but that could be years, decades even depending on how this Archives group decided to handle their horrors. And that didn’t even begin to cover how his mere presence had been the lynch pin for this man having come into contact with the Fears. Not that the man apparently wasn’t already familiar, but more that Sims had directly drawn him deeper into the world where Fear was a currency paid in kind. 

“S’rry,” Sims muttered, barely loud enough for Daniel to catch it.

“Oh you’ve got nothing to apologise for. My subconscious just does this, and Abby likes to tell me it’s a normal response to the stuff we deal with, so if anyone is to blame it’s whatever circumstances brought you to us in the first place.”

Sims knew intellectually that Daniel meant it to be comforting, but he felt a pang of hurt knowing that he was definitely to blame for the series of events that ended with Daniel having to deal with troubled sleep. He felt himself begin to spiral, but was shocked out of it when Daniel suddenly tapped his right arm.

"By the way, how long have you been able to lift your arm above the bed like that?"

Sims begrudgingly accepted the change in subject and shrugged half-heartedly. It was hard to know how long you had known how to do something if you had no way to properly tell time.

Daniel hemmed and hawed a bit, and muttered, "well, first I've seen you do it, and it can't have been more than a week since the last time we tried to ask for upheld arms… or was that two weeks ago…?"

It also didn't help that his only way to tell time was running on less sleep than even Sims had in Research. (Though not as little as when he had been running on tea and paranoia. Not yet at any rate.) But he knew it had been a few days at most, because he had managed an almost wave the last time Tim had visited. So depending on what day he had last visited, that would be about his best answer. And since Tim had reportedly been very regular with his Monday, Wednesday, Friday visits, that would mean at most 3 days if it has been Friday.

With how the "day" was starting, Sims had a feeling that it was going to be a very long and dull one. So he settled in for a lengthy bout of consciousness where his only reprieve from his thoughts would be when people deigned to visit him. On the plus side, Daniel would take his sweet time checking him over, and if he were lucky, Tim would visit later. 

It was times like this that Sims wished he could set up a playlist of podcasts to listen to to take the edge off the loneliness.

It had been a week since the last Tape, and in the interim Martin hadn’t stopped thinking about Sasha’s proposal. It wasn’t that it was a particularly novel idea, as Martin (probably) would have come to a similar conclusion his alternate counterpart had come to (whatever that was, though in the interest of keeping his job it probably would have included tracking down more information on the Vittery Statement in person.) No, it was just how she worded it, like she thought there was even a remote chance that Jon would look at him with anything other than scorn. 

He knew he should ignore the suggestion. Sasha meant well, but she wasn't that one that Jon kept sending to do the most dangerous field work every week. Even knowing what was on the Tapes, Jon almost seemed more determined to find more information than his counterpart to put in the tapes he recorded for the Statements that didn't record digitally. Plus, it sounded like J- Sims had sent him to the apartment to look at the crime scene in person again , so it would be a moot point to try to be extra thorough on a mission that Jon was already anticipating his failure on. (Though it was nice to hear when he, Tim, and Sasha listened through some of Jon's tapes that during Angela's tape he didn't verbally express that Martin should have been cut up into pieces like Sims had in Tape 014. In fact, Jon had generally been less mean than that first week or two in the Archives, and from what they had been hearing on the Tapes. Not to say that Jon liked or appreciated anything Martin did by any stretch of the imagination. But Jon didn't seem to want to actively root for Martin's imminent demise like Sims had.) Martin understood that Tim and Sasha had been friends with Jon for years before any of them had actually met Martin. Admittedly, Martin had seen the 3 of them around the Library looking for research materials over the years. He’d even heard the other librarians gossiping about Jon because of how rude he was, but that they couldn’t do anything about it because the only person who had ever tried to talk with Bouchard about it was moved shortly thereafter to Artefact Storage. (And everyone knew that getting sent to Artefact Storage was the fastest way to get someone to quit… one way or another.) Martin hadn’t put stock in that particular rumour, but after working with Jon, he could definitely understand why the librarians might have had it out for him if he treated them like he seemed to treat everyone else.

Despite all of this, and damn his bleeding heart, Martin was still sorely tempted to try and check out the scene of the crime to see if there was anything left to show Jon. The odds weren't great, seeing as the Tape's call number had indicated the man had given his Statement months ago, but Martin would be willing to hold out hope if he went simply because it was only months old, and not decades old like many statements.

Martin debated externalising the internal debate he was having with himself. On the one hand, maybe Tim would be able to convince him one way or the other since he already knew where Sasha stood on things. On the other, it would open him up to yet more jokes at his expense about his crush. Martin found this latter prospect far outweighing any possible benefits of the former, and resigned himself to agonising over this till some outside motivation presented itself.

Glancing up at the wall clock precariously perched on one of the taller stacks of boxed statements, Martin noticed it was already almost time to start heading to the break room for lunch. And seeing as it was Monday… Well better to eat even if he wasn’t feeling like it than be turned off food for the rest of the day even once he is hungry again. So with a sigh, he made his way to the breakroom right as Tim and Sasha were settling in their usual seats at the breakroom table.

Immediately upon his arrival, Tim and Sasha looked up and Tim said, “Hey Martin!”

“Ah, hey Tim! How goes?”

“Same old, same ol’.” Tim waved him off, the picture of ease as he lounged back into the ancient furniture. Rumour had it that Gertrude Robinson herself had replaced the breakroom furniture back in the 70s when she had first become Head Archivist. Martin believed it, particularly since no one made that particular style of chair anymore, the one with the stuffed faux pleather seat, coloured a garish green, propped up with 4 metal legs, and topped with a single metal bar leading to the similarly styled stuffed faux pleather back. Truly, Martin marvelled at how Tim seemed to make something so ugly into something that looked almost adjacent to comfortable.

As per usual, Jon seemed to be running late. Not that any of them were surprised by this, seeing as he almost always lost track of time, and tended to need someone to come by and act as his alarm clock for Monday lunch. Because of this, though, Sasha cleared her throat right as Martin was rifling through the fridge looking for his lunch. He paused and looked over to see her looking directly at him as she stated, “I suppose someone should go get Jon. Whose turn was it to find him today?”

Martin felt a bolt of embarrassment. Of course, he had managed to forget it was his turn to go and bring Jon over for lunch this week. Just typical.

However, before he could make a move to head back towards Jon’s office, leaving his food on the counter in the process he was sure; Tim got up and started moving towards the door. “I got ‘im!” Tim called. “You get comfy, I’ll be right back with the man of the hour.”

Martin found himself distinctly on the wrong foot as Tim disappeared and Sasha turned her attention to him. He knew intellectually that her gaze wasn’t accusatory, but he felt judgemental eyes raking across his frame and he turned silently back to retrieving his lunch out of the still open fridge. 

This was fine.

For luck, Tim didn’t take very long to practically skip back into the break room, a very disgruntled looking Jon being dragged in behind him. Martin looked down at his watch and realised that Tim had taken only 5 minutes, and on the first try at that. Normally when Martin would go back to pull Jon for Tapes, he’d say his piece, come back after a minute, prep his lunch and a cuppa for 10, and then inevitably have to try again with said cuppa. It was… what it was honestly. Martin would complain about it, but it gave him an excuse and the time to brew tea for Jon. Not that Jon deserved tea, hell no. But Martin found the action soothing, and recently he had even caught Jon’s walls come down for a brief instant the first time Martin had brewed an English Breakfast with extra honey and cream. Seeing Jon like that, with shoulders a little lower and an expression of calm upon his face, suddenly made all the tea and time worth it just a little. Maybe not the amount of verbal abuse that he would throw at Martin when he would mess up, but definitely worth a second attempt at pulling Jon for Tape time on Mondays.

Martin then blinked and realised that in his brief moment of distraction Tim had gotten Jon to sit down at the table and was himself settling into his previous position. Jon of course took one look at Tim’s sprawling across the ugly chair with all his usual grace, and his face scrunched into something that Martin’s gay little heart could only describe as adorable even though he knew it shouldn’t be. Truly this man was too cute for how much of a prick he was. But now wasn’t the time for that, and with an internal sigh, Martin joined his coworkers at the table.

At that, the four of them had a fairly typical Monday lunch. Tim bickered with Sasha, which dragged Jon in by virtue of his inability to let others even potentially be wrong about something, which led into Martin trying to smooth ruffled feathers and joking around with Tim and Sasha and missing Jon’s dry humour. This of course led to Tim making innuendos about entirely the wrong people that Marin could be interested in, with Sasha only goading him on yet giving Martin knowing looks across the table. Martin groaned in embarrassment whilst Jon rolled his eyes and hid his smiles behind his sandwich. Overall, it was a far cry from their first month of working together, that was for sure. 

But alas, all good things must come to an end, and while Sasha still seemed excited about the new Tape, and Tim seemed excited in that Sasha was excited, Martin found himself quite bored of them honestly. While the idea that they were a window into the future had been proven on more than one occasion, he was beginning to wonder if the worst of things would wait for 100 Tapes or so. And in that case, it would be at least 2 years before anything they would need to worry about might happen. Particularly if they never managed to speed up the process. (Not that he wanted Jon to suffer more, just that he hoped whatever spooky thing that was affecting him would wear off sooner rather than later.) 

Once the 4 of them were done eating, Sasha eagerly got up and ran off to Document Storage to grab the box of Tapes. Jon looked like he had sucked on a lemon, and Tim shot Martin a commiserating look of long suffering. Which, okay, fair dues. Jon was still being a bit of a bastard about the Tapes and letting other people handle them basically ever. But whatever fears Jon had seemed to be assuaged as Sasha returned almost immediately with the box of Tapes and one of their tape recorders placed on top. 

Jon looked like he might still want to argue, but Martin released the breath he had unconsciously held as Jon said, " thank you Sasha." He didn't sound very thankful, but Martin was just happy he kept the rest of his rant to himself.

"Now if you would be so kind as to hand them over so we can get started?" Jon continued.

Sasha then had that gleam in her eye that Martin was quickly beginning to associate with trouble.

"Welllll, I don't know, I was thinking one of us assistants could assist you and play the next Tape."

"Now Sasha, I really don't think-" Jon started, but then Tim jumped in.

"Ooo, Sasha has a good idea boss! Unless you plan on sitting on the Tapes like a pile of gold, which in that case maybe I should start calling you the Archives dragon instead!"

Jon narrowed his eyes at the both of them. "I think you will find that if you don't hand them over to me sooner than later I will be liable to also start trying to eat people like a dragon as well."

Tim gasped. "Well I never!" He then turned to Sasha. "Quick Sasha! Play the next Tape before he eats Martin!"

"I would not-" 

"Woah, keep me out of this-" 

Exclaimed Jon and Martin at the same time, Martin doing his best not to think of what Tim was implying with that. Despite their protests, Sasha gleefully did as Tim requested and seemed to instantly find Tape 017 and efficiently placed it within the player.

Jon harrumphed, but was drawn into the recording immediately along with Sasha, while Martin gave Tim a scowl as he replied back with an impish look before they too were absorbed into listening to this week’s horror.

It was with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that Martin listened to the story of a man who worked at a library and found a book that meant harm. This was, what, their second Statement like this? Their 25th statement? It was practically a trope at this point if Martin was being honest and open. But as with every time before, he kept an eye on Jon, knowing that if this was anything like the last time, he’d be planning his petition to Elias for the next few days about how Leitners were a scourge upon the human race and it was irresponsible to not know where they were. At least, that's more or less what happened last time there was even an implied Leitner in a statement. This one at least they could say happened at some point, seeing as it was on Tape. And now more than ever Jon seemed reluctant to let anyone other than himself record to Tape.

However, mid-Tape, Elias of all people appeared. Or at least his voice did, chiding Jon and asking Martin's whereabouts. Which seemed rather odd… Elias hadn't taken much interest in Martin since he was hired on for the Library, and the one time he had called Martin up to his office was to offer him a new position in the Archives. To this day Martin wasn't quite sure why Elias had done so, but he really couldn't turn down such a substantial pay increase. That and Elias had implied that Martin wouldn't have a job at all if he declined the promotion which… okay weird, but it definitely hasn't been the weirdest interaction with an employer in his life. And he really couldn't lose this job, because for the first time since he was 17 he was almost managing to tread water financially. But of course, even once Mr. Bouchard had checked in, Sims just had to get his snipe in.

It would be almost comical, in a way, just how much Sims seemed to love hating him; if it didn’t hurt so much in such a familiar way.

But from there it was back to an usual Statement. Apparently this Jared bloke had been torturing his family before his mom managed to escape and drag the book back to the library. Martin had a sinking feeling that didn’t end well for her in the long run. And of course, Jared himself was apparently now a meat monster with far too many limbs and muscles and bones in places they shouldn’t be. Somewhat surprisingly though, the Statement giver was fine after this altercation and managed to eventually make his way to the Institute to give his Statement. Of course, Sims “believed every word” after it was confirmed to be a book from Jurgen Leitner’s library, and Martin wasn’t surprised to see Tim and Sasha both rolling their eyes at that. But looking over to Jon… He didn’t look terribly determined? He just looked a bit frightened if anything. Which okay, if you now earnestly believed there was many limbed muscle-y meat man free and roaming the streets using a book to steal people’s bones and organs and stuff, that could be rather frightening to think about. But even worse in Martin’s opinion was hearing that he was sent out to find the original Statement giver to only come back with the information that Jared had tracked him down 7 years after the fact and probably tortured him to death and left his mutilated body lying in the middle of the road. Like, hearing it put to Tape was nauseating enough without the implication that he was going to probably have to see police records of the state the body had been in upon arriving at the scene. How terrible must have been the damage to have been a closed casket funeral? Then, with the usual definitive click, the Tape came to an end and the four of them were left once again staring at each other.

“W-well, glad we ate beforehand!” chirped Martin, plastering on a smile.

“Eugh, yeah, body horror is my least favourite kind,” replied Sasha, though if she was still feeling queasy at all, she hid it very well.

“In that case, I will leave the follow up to either Tim or Martin for this one once we find it. I might permit you both to go together if workload allows it, and you both discuss with me next week.” Jon’s comment startled them all a bit, as it wasn’t his expected comment about the Leitner. 

Because of course, it would be next week, thought Martin ruefully, not for the first time hating how almost like clockwork this was becoming. But that brought up something else he had noted during the Tape: that he would apparently come down with a stomach bug in about a week that would be serious enough for him to call in sick from work. Which wasn't great but that did bring up his previous thought process from earlier in the day. If he wanted to do any “extracurricular” field work, and he didn’t want to be miserable doing it, he would probably need to do that sometime this week. Which didn’t give him much time to prepare, but then again, when had he ever been prepared for field work since he had been assigned down here? In fact, what was keeping him from checking out Vittery’s apartment after work today? He knew that sometime this week Jon would officially ask him to check it out, but maybe if he went today he could scope the place out a bit after hours and see if he could find anything that wasn’t in the Tape from last week.

Martin nodded to himself. Yes, this time tomorrow, he would either have knowledge for Jon that not even the future could give him, or Jon wouldn't even know what happened and things would stay as they had been! Martin almost felt giddy, despite the sudden terrible sinking feeling in his gut.

He was startled out of his thoughts though as the others tried to get his attention. He smiled ruefully, but he had a plan now of some kind, even if it was very loosely defined. He debated with himself as the others talked about the Tape as to whether he should tell at least Tim and Sasha what he was about to do, but decided against it. While they themselves didn’t seem to shy away from their own extracurricular activities, they seemed to be fairly cautious about looking into Statement material outside of work hours. He would be fine. He wasn’t due to be out of the office till next week at the earliest anyways! 

Martin wished he could be as sure about this as Jon was when it came to books from the library of Jurgen Leitner.

Chapter Text

Sasha knew no one other than Tim would say so, but it was blatantly apparent to anyone with eyes that she was the details person from their little trio in Research. If Tim was the guy with ideas, and Jon the man who got things done no matter how tedious the road to get there, then Sasha was their woman to make sure every avenue of research was checked. Sure, Tim and Jon enjoyed their breaking and entering every once and awhile when the situation called for it, but Sasha was the one finding the bank fraud in the first place and tracing the house that needed breaking into. Not to say she didn’t get her hands dirty out in the field by any means, but if it could be found by a computer, well… ‘It’s free real estate’, as the wisdom of the ancients went.

Thus, back on Tuesday morning, she noticed right away when Martin didn’t appear. Admittedly, people won’t show up for shifts without announcing it in advance all the time. Nothing to worry about surely? But then Wednesday came and went, and still no Martin. By Thursday, even Tim had begun to comment on it, and when the two of them had gone to Jon to ask on Martin’s whereabouts, he shrugged and noted that Martin had sent him a text message saying he had a stomach bug.

That was why, at the start of Friday, 4 days into Martin’s disappearance, Sasha decided that something needed to be done. She had a few options, of course. There was the obvious answer of just going to his apartment to find out how he was doing, since a stomach bug taking him out for almost an entire week was the kind of thing that was either a cover for something else, or a symptom of a much greater problem. Then there was the option for pestering Jon to listen to the next Tape to find out how much longer Martin’s stomach problems lasted. If she could convince him to listen to the next Tape instead of recording the Vittery Statement… Well considering how he reacted to it last time, she had a sneaking suspicion that he would be willing to find any excuse to not have to record it, even if it was to find possible answers to Martin’s current wellbeing. There was also the option to just look through Martin’s stuff and see if he had left any information behind that Sasha didn’t know yet. But Tim had been trying to get her to stop doing that kind of thing, and she really had been trying to be better about that since moving to the Archives (Had she really , or had she just gotten better about hiding it?). And last of all, she could go with Tim after work to talk with Sims. After all, if anyone might know something about all this, it would probably be him . But that was a gamble, seeing as he still struggled to piece together words, much less whole sentences; and that was if he was even awake to talk with them. Or could stay awake long enough to talk with them.

So yeah, options. But they each had their positives and negatives, and while Sasha would like to choose the one that ends with the best outcome, it’s hard to determine which option will lead to that when she doesn’t know if there’s anything actually wrong with Martin. For example, if she goes with her first option of just visiting Martin out of the blue, that could get… messy . Afterall, she shouldn’t know where he lives, as he’s never told them, and it’s generally assumed that people don’t just look into the employee database to stalk their coworkers’ places of residence. She also assumes Martin never told Tim or Jon where he lives, which means she has no actual plausible deniability. (She could try using Sims as the scapegoat, but it’s unspoken that he’s basically useless for learning anything of use at the moment. Maybe in a few more months… but not right now.) The last two she already looked at some of their downsides, which leaves her second option of pestering Jon to listen to the Tape today instead of recording the Vittery Statement. Worst case scenario, he would be his usual stubborn self about it and he recorded the Vittery Statement as he originally planned and Sasha would have to fall back to tagging along with Tim on his Sims visit for answers.

On the plus side for convincing Jon to listen to the next Tape, he had already postponed his recording of the Vittery Statement by a day, which was highly unusual of him.

But of course the most obvious solution of just texting him should have been the first thing she did right? Of course it was, she wasn't daft. But Martin was ghosting all of them except for Jon, which was yet another clue stoking the fire of her worry. Who Martin texted in his free time was of course up to him, but considering that him and Jon were still on fairly rocky terms, and Tim had been insistent that he was normally able to regularly text Martin outside of work, it was absolutely befuddling that Martin was suddenly texting updates exclusively to the boss he hated. So, thus why Sasha was looking over her options increasingly urgently and trying to narrow them down so she could find out the answer to this mystery.

After thinking things through, it seemed fairly obvious that she should try to convince Jon to listen to the next Tape. But how to go about it…

-

Jon found himself glaring once again at the stacks of statements piled up on his desk. But mostly at the Statement he had left for himself to do today since he had been too busy the day before to actually record it. He knew not recording it yesterday had thrown off their carefully cultivated schedule to keep him from dying on them, but it would be fine . They had a day of error practically built into the schedule, so he was going to use it this week was all. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it was Carols Vittery’s Statement, and that it was about spiders. Absolutely nothing.

He sighed, frustration lining his every inch. Jon had been trying to ignore the compounding redundancy of his life to no avail. At times it felt like he was living on a stage and at the same time in the audience: being spoiled almost a sentence ahead of time. The time between learning about what would happen and it happening was just long enough to be frustrating but not helpful. Which seemed par for the course with his life since moving to the Archives, and he knew he should be thankful at all that he was getting a glimpse into the future and the potential answers to his questions. But that still did nothing to assuage his frustration when it came to the practical joke his life had become.

Truly, he had begun to wonder weeks ago if he was cursed, or if that he had transgressed someone cosmically important in a past life. Both ideas were patently ridiculous of course, but the mere fact his life seemed to be running along a script at the whim of something beyond him was a bit too blatant to ignore. What or who was in charge of the script was more than likely the same thing that had included the Tapes with his doppelganger, which lent itself well to a mastermind…

Jon was startled from thought as the sound of someone knocking on his door echoed throughout his office. He sighed and straightened his posture just enough to look like he had been busy; which was when Sasha decided to enter in. He was curious about that, as she only really came to his office if he asked ahead of time or had some follow up she needed looked over right away. Truly they only seemed to see each other nowadays for the Tapes and the post-Tape weekly theory crafting session by the Board. (Which was coming along, but he still thought it rather unnecessary to include any “office gossip” that managed to find their way onto the Tapes. In fact on Monday he had bemoaned the loss of precious space to Martin's planned stomach flu for next week, which Sasha argued could become important later, they couldn't know until Jon mentioned Martin again.)

But in any case it was always a pleasure to see her or Tim (excepting them breaking in at 4 in the morning), so he found himself softening a smidge. “Ah, hello Sasha. What brings you by?”

“It's lunch time! I figured I would remind you about it since Martin isn't here.”

“Hmph. Well, unfortunately I'm far too busy this afternoon to take a break. You and Tim should remember to keep an eye on the clock as well. With Martin being gone, I can't imagine Tim's managed to already finish the increased load.” He left it unstated how he thought she was doing as knowing her she probably had already started helping Tim with his. Then again, with Martin gone, that had severely reduced the number of people able to track down information outside of the Institute ( loathe as Jon might be to admit it). With the Vittery case almost demanding legwork outside the Institute, technically Jon shouldn't be recording the Statement yet anyways just because he hadn't gotten all of the research back from Tim and Sasha. But he had a script to follow (which he would never admit to using), so he needed to finish recording his own Tape, and he would listen to the ‘original’ again if necessary to take some notes over what he should cover.

Sasha waved away his concern. “Actually, Tim and I need to talk with you anyways about the case, so we figured why not two birds, one stone?”

Well now, that changed things. He could justify a break from procrastinating to procrastinate productively.

However, he let out a sigh of long suffering and said, “I suppose I can take a moment to talk with the two of you about the case. Wait just a moment and I'll join you.”

With that, Jon shuffled the papers in front of him into approximations of stacks, and went about gathering his things to work over lunch. He glanced at Sasha as he grabbed the Vittery case file and distractedly noted her matching glance, before moving quickly to the next thing on his mental checklist.

After completing said checklist, Jon joined back up with Sasha and they made their way together to the breakroom. Upon arrival, Jon noted that Tim was once again lounging in his chair, and had left their usual spots open. It wasn’t quite the same as when they had been in Research, as now they had a 4th chair set across from Jon, but it was close enough that Jon had to rather insistently mentally crack down on the sentimentalism that was trying to rise within him at the familiarity now that it was, for the moment, just the three of them. 

To combat the less than professional feelings beginning to warm his gut, Jon put up his walls all the higher, and mentally went over the axioms of being a “better boss” to his friends coworkers he had found in a self help book. (Jon was never one to buy into self-help books, but after the first disastrous week in the Archives, he caved and found a kitschy “Becoming a Better Boss” that was the first thing he saw related to the topic in the Self-Help section of a nearby bookshop. Of course he checked to make sure it was safe first, he wasn’t an idiot . Unfortunately, he found it rather unhelpful in the end, but it was his only life line in attempting to salvage his image in front of his employees and Elias.) In any case, he felt slightly less off kilter by the time he sat down with his stuffed manila folder and pen, and felt at least almost prepared to discuss the Vittery Statement with Sasha and Tim over some lunch.

“So, you both wanted to talk about your findings on the Vittery Statement today?” Jon asked, folder open in front of him and with pen at the ready.

Sasha and Tim gave him an incredulous look over their respective lunches. Sasha did have a small sheaf of papers within her own manilla folder set to the side, but carefully placed so as to not be potentially stained from her fingers or food during lunch. Jon could appreciate that, but he was going to ignore their eating because this was the only way he could justify taking time away from his current project. 

As the awkward silence stretched a hair too long, Tim did as he always does, and tried to lighten things up.

“Sure, once we’ve had a bite or two, we’ll get right on that bossman. But while you wait, why don’t you get a little food in you? After all, you're not you when you’re hungry.” Tim gave Jon a wink, which Jon could only give a mildly disgruntled look for. He could tell Tim was referencing something, but with how little TV and internet he consumed in a day, there were many references that never quite clicked. And then once Tim caught on…

Tim gasped dramatically, “ Boss , don’t tell me you’ve never seen a Snickers commercial?”

“I have, in fact, seen a Snickers commercial before. It’s just been a while since I last saw one.” Make that a solid 5-10 years since the last time. But what Tim doesn't know won't hurt him in this case. Plus, him saying it was based on a commercial brought to mind the echo of a memory of having seen something related to the phrase ‘not you when you’re hungry’. Silver linings he supposed.

“Still…” Tim gave him a look , which Jon refused to engage with.

“Anyways, did you remember to pack anything to bring with you to work today?” asked Sasha, mild concern leaking through in the slight furrow of her eyebrows.

Jon scoffed at the concern, but internally he thought back to that morning and realised no, no he really had not. It wasn’t all that surprising, as he was already running at a severe deficit of energy. So spending the time and effort in the mornings to do anything other than get into his work clothes and trudge out the door seemed herculean in scope comparatively. But that also meant he spent more days convincing himself that he wasn't hungry and that taking a break was a waste of time. If he had been in Research still, Tim would have guessed at his self-neglect already and packed extra food. But since the move down to the Archives and the sudden promotion, things had been… somewhat tense. But for as much as Jon complained about the Tapes, they were at least good for making excuses to talk with each other. Which now had led to this situation where his coworkers were getting to see his incompetence and weakness out in the open instead of safely hidden behind closed doors.

“That’s rather besides the point don’t you think?” Jon replied instead. He gave his best disappointed scowl, and hoped it would be enough to get them off his case about truly unimportant things like his eating habits.

“Actually, I rather think that was my point,” countered Tim, eyes narrowed.

“And your avoidance isn’t as convincing as you think it is,” added Sasha with a self-satisfied smirk.

Jon sighed, knowing that the battle was already lost. So he grumbled a bit under his breath before replying.

“If you must know-”

“Which we must ,” interrupted Tim.

“-I did not, in fact, bring a lunch today,” finished Jon, giving Tim the stink eye. “Which I still do not see why you should concern yourselves over something so trivial.”

Tim’s quiet “oh for fuck’s sake” and head in hands was easily overpowered by Sasha’s louder groan of frustration and corresponding thwap of her hand against Jon’s head. As Jon rubbed the spot she had so unceremoniously attacked she added, “Of course we “concern” ourselves with your wellbeing. You were our friend before you were ever our boss!”

Jon shifted uneasily in his chair, uncomfortable with the most overt attempt at camaraderie that he had been offered thus far. He knew it wouldn’t last, of course. Nothing close to a relationship, including friendship, had ever worked out well for him in the long run. He could admit that Tim and Sasha had stuck around the longest of anyone he had been friends with, other than Georgie, but now with his being elevated in the office hierarchy it would no longer be appropriate to be as close. Unfortunately, it seems his attempts at distancing himself have fallen short of the mark, (but a selfish part of him is thankful that they haven’t given up on him yet). However, this display was entirely unprofessional and because everything else at his job has decided to remind him of the event that never happened , he would try this time to -

Jon was suddenly dragged out of his chair by an irate Sasha. “Right, we’re taking you to get take out just this once, but you better not forget your lunch again okay?”

Tim surprised him by groaning even louder than expected. “Do we have to Sash? I was just getting comfy!”

Jon didn’t quite catch the look Sasha threw at Tim, but he could see the results just fine as Tim momentarily slumped in defeat over his partially eaten sandwich. Then, without further audible complaint, he dragged himself away from the table and fell in step with Sasha; sandwich noticeably grasped in his offhand.

“Right, now that that's settled, Jon d’you still like Thai?” Asked Sasha, beginning to drag Tim and Jon along beside her towards the stairs.

Trying to grasp what little dignity he had left, Jon replied, “of course, but I can go and get it myself! You two shouldn't be spending your lunch hour in this way, and this excursion will likely pull you both from the work I've assigned you…”

Tim, seemingly having decided to try and make the best of things, piped in., “I’d give up if I was you. You know Sash, once her mind is made up, we’re all along for the ride!” He gave a little shrug, just to accentuate the point, even if it was unnecessary.

Finally giving up, Jon sighed and allowed himself to be dragged off to lunch. Food couldn’t hurt, and the added energy would be nice to stockpile a bit before he inevitably lost it again after the next Tape or Statement.

—

After a lunch that Sasha was sure in a game would be considered the equivalent of one positive relationship point for each of them, they sat back down in the break room with their supplies for “talking about the Vittery Statement”. Contrary to Jon’s previous information, Sasha actually had slipped the next Tape into her manilla folder along with some empty note pages. She would have tried sneaking the actual tape player in as well, but the ones left over in the Archives must have been from the early 70s and tended to be just large enough to notice if added to a folder. However, Tim had come in handy, as he had just slipped one onto Martin’s chair before Jon had arrived and swore up and down that Jon wouldn’t notice. To Tim’s credit, Jon indeed seemed too distracted by the idea of working towards getting the Vittery Statement done, that not once when he walked by Martin’s usual chair did he notice the barely hidden tape recorder/player. 

Right as Jon was about to start asking again about the Vittery Statement, Tim whipped out the tape player, and so Sasha flipped open her manilla folder to Tape 018. A moment of quiet shock settled over Jon, before he quickly worked himself up to what looked to be quite the rant.

“T-Tim! S-Sasha! What is the meaning of this?!”

“I might have misled you a bit about what I was hoping to do over lunch…” began Sasha, though she was quickly rebuffed by an increasingly incensed Jon.

“Oh, so lunch was- was merely a ploy then to get me away from my actual work, is that it? Wanted to waste my time till my guard was down so you could insist on an extra Tape?”

Once again, Sasha’s plan was blowing up in her face. Then again, this time nothing had really gone to plan from the outset. “No! Nonono, the lunch really was a spur of the moment decision! But we really thought a Tape would be a better idea, because surely you're more curious about the next Tape than a Statement I know you're putting off on purpose.”

Jon looked like he desperately wanted to deny it, but all three of them knew that Jon would rather learn something new than copy the old ad-nauseam. So instead, he slowly deflated and seemed to begrudgingly settle back into his chair. Sasha thought better than to let her triumph show on her face, so she merely gave Jon a supportive smile. He frowned, and turned away from the both of them, but he obviously was now hooked on potentially finding more information.

“Thank you, I’m glad we could come to an understanding,” said Sasha as she began loading the Tape into the player.

“So long as you are willing to wait till mid-week for the next one then, since I still need to file the Vittery Statement with a recording.”

Sasha decided it was best to leave it be for now and nodded, but thought to herself that she would need to try and insist on Monday for 019 if this Tape didn’t answer her questions about Martin’s whereabouts. 

Without further conversation, the three of them settled in to listen to Tape 018.

Needless to say, as with every Tape before, it only gave them more questions and no answers as to Martin’s whereabouts.

Martin was incredibly grateful he had insisted on keeping the old family quilt around. Of course, mum had tried to insist it would only waste space once she was off to the care home, but sentimentality had won out in the end. That and practicality. After all, one never really did know when the power would get cut to your building in the middle of winter.

Of course, it wasn’t actually the middle of winter, but early November was certainly not a warm month by any stretch of the imagination, and having no heating for over a week definitely lent itself to needing some extra layers around the flat.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

Instinctively, Martin glanced fearfully towards the front of the flat, looking to see if any worms had made their way in this time. Seeing none he hid himself more fully under the heavy quilt and wished once again he had more emergency candles. He had a few of course, but he had been trying to save them now that help didn’t seem to be coming. Afterall, 9 and a half hours of daylight was enough to do everything he needed to do now that he was trapped for the foreseeable future. Plenty of time to count and recount his dwindling supplies while he watched for the white exoskeletons by the door. The other 14 and a half hours could be spent sleeping (impossible) and wishing he could use a couple of candles to read one of his books of poetry or check for worms since they were impossible to see in the dark.

Fortunately, he had had the time to go to the shops for supplies before he went on his ill-advised heist, but that still didn’t mean he was happy eating cooling cans of food that in a day or two would be limited to his backlog of peaches.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

Martin jumped under the quilt and bit back a whine, and glanced back out at the darkening apartment. Still nothing, but the putrid odour of decaying flesh and the distant undertone of squirming kept him on edge. It didn’t help that he was running on hour-long naps, practically passing out every couple of hours as his body desperately tried to get sleep despite the amount of adrenaline consistently pouring through his system. It seemed every time he was almost able to relax, the worm lady would knock on his door again.

Martin wondered how much adrenaline and terror his heart could take before it just gave out on him. It was unfortunately beginning to sound like a better way to go than the now inevitable end by worm food he seemed to be heading towards.

He was doing his best not to think about what would happen when he inevitably ran out of food.

Chapter Text

After the bust that was Tape 018 in terms of useful information about Martin, Tim found himself desperate to talk with Sims. He wasn't sure why exactly, seeing as answers were still unlikely, but perhaps it was the thought of talking it over with Jon like he would have in Research that called to him. Of course, Sims wouldn’t be able to respond like Jon would have, but just the idea that his friend that he had made at his lowest might still be somewhere accessible, and not wrapped under layers of professional distance and prickly fortifications appealed to him. He knew he was setting himself up for disappointment, but even just a short chat to a sleeping Sims seemed refreshing. He also was aware that he had been frequently there and yet still struggled with this feeling, but maybe this time he could find a resolution somewhere…

So, with yet another long week having wrapped up, and a quiet weekend of trying to distract himself from the issues at work ahead, Tim found himself once again at the bedside of Jon’s doppelganger. As he had at the start of every other visit that week, Sims was fast asleep. On the plus side, odds were that the moment Tim started talking Sims would perk right up, and it was always nice to see Sims at peace in some capacity before that point.

Quietly, Tim settled into the chair and thought about where he’d like to start. Probably with something a bit more light-hearted for Sims to wake to. So he slipped his hand into Sims’s good one so that it would be easier for him to reply if words were hard.

“Hey there Sims. Hope your week hasn’t been too boring. I know if I was stuck in a room for hours on end with nothing to do I probably would have gone insane by now.” Tim noted the slight shift from Sims as he seemed to wake up. Tim then felt a slight squeeze from Sims, so gave a light squeeze back. “Ah, morning there sleeping beauty! Have a good nap?”

Sims gave him a disappointed scowl, as if to ask him how he thought Sims had napped whilst still being in the hospital. Okay fair.

“Hey now, you never know if something happened in the last two days since the last time I was in! Maybe you could have been tortured for information by that crazy night nurse. Or maybe Dr. Frankenstein here finally snapped and made an attempt on your life for not being the model patient. Or maybe ,” Tim let himself gesticulate a bit with his free hand, knowing Sims wouldn’t see it anyways. “Daniel was hiding a serial killer under all that bedside manner and you could hear him butchering someone next door and have been sworn to secrecy!”

Sims had raised an eyebrow after the first suggestion, raised the other after the second, and managed to raise them both higher and somehow more incredulously after the last. He was managing a straight face, though Tim saw through his facade and grinned right back at him.

“That look is completely uncalled for by the way. I will have you know these are completely solid speculations, and if Sasha was along she would agree that it’s most likely that Daniel is secretly a serial killer.” Sims’ eyebrows had lowered back down and his head had done an exaggerated roll as he had tried to roll his non-existent eyes anyways. Tim also got another hand squeeze for his troubles, and found that the melodrama was well worth it.

Having realised a bit what he had said, Tim commented, “You know, I joke about being bored as hell in here, but there really isn’t even a telly to watch in here is there?” Sims gave a hesitant nod at that, and Tim made a contemplative hum. “Obviously you’ll eventually need a phone to call us if something comes up, but how does a little radio with some knobs and shit sound in the meantime?”

Sims squeezed Tim’s hand in the approximation of a death grip, and nodded as vigorously as he possibly could. Which admittedly was more than Tim had seen him do previously, so progress.

“In that case, how about I do some shopping this weekend and see what I can find at the shops? Worst case scenario I have to do some online shopping and see if I can get something in by Friday next week.” Sims went to rapidly squeezing Tim’s hand, but had stopped the head nodding to seemingly concentrate on something.

To Tim’s utter surprise, Sims managed something far more complex than he usually attempted.

“ Thank you . Th-hhank you Ti’m.”

After nothing more seemed forthcoming, Tim smiled gently and gripped Sims’ hand with both his hands. “No trouble mate. Would suck if you lost your mind in here anyways. We’ve all put too much effort in to lose you to the unending halls of this hospital.”

Sims looked split between amusement and his usual moping, but the amusement seemed to be winning out.

Then after a moment of silence, Sims managed to ask, “what act- ua’y b’ought you ‘ere?”

“Oh c’mon now! You know I always come by right before the weekend for a nice chat.”

Sims huffed, and settled back onto his pillows, one eyebrow raised again.

Tim sighed in faux exasperation. “ Fine , I did have something specific to rant about today. Happy?”

Sims grinned somewhat smugly and replied, “Very.”

“Chatty bugger today, aren’t you?”

Sims shrugged, and Tim noted once again that Sims seemed to enjoy doing things out of petty spite just as much as Jon does.

“In that case, I’ll have you know that you’ve asked for this.” And with that, Tim talked about his week, mostly focusing on the more light hearted topics. Then as he ran out of amusing anecdotes, and Sims seemed to be losing his patience, Tim addressed the elephant in the room.

“In other news, Martin’s been out with a “stomach bug” since Monday night apparently.”

Sims’ breath hitched, and he suddenly clutched Tim’s hand.

Tim felt his stomach sink to his feet.

“That bad huh?” The bad feeling only got worse as Sims sat there for a bit before nodding hesitantly. So he fought with himself to keep his mask on as he asked, “Odds Martin has a normal stomach flu this time?”

Sims’ face crumpled into despair at that, and he firmly shook his head once. Then he screwed his face into something more determined as he slowly formed a question. 

“Jussss’... since M’on’day?”

“Yeah, Martin was at work Monday, but never showed up for work Tuesday. Sasha could probably tell you about the timing better, since if Jon did tell us when Martin texted him about his stomach bug, she would have remembered.” What Tim left unspoken, and what he assumed Sims would probably have remembered, was Sasha’s penchant for knowing little details like that one way or another. Even if that included snooping on Jon’s phone when he would occasionally leave it unattended. Or maybe not. For some reason Sims would look confused over the oddest things, particularly in regards to Sasha. Tim didn’t know if he wanted to find out via the Tapes or from Sims.

Sims furrowed his brows in concentration, though the tension permeating his frame and slowly jacking his heart monitor made Tim even more anxious. But he seemed to have a revelation and hurried to formulate his words.

“T’apes t’ol’d you ye’t?”

Tim thought for a moment as the question sunk in.

“No, not that we can tell anyways. The one we listened to today was all about some guy stapling meat to the walls of his flat. But nothing about Martin beyond him still being out sick.”

Sims huffed a laugh at that, and Tim felt himself relax a bit. If Sims was able to relax enough to laugh about terrible Statements, then it couldn’t all be doom and gloom.

“G’ive ‘im ano’her week.” Sims accentuated the statement with a gentle hand pat. “He’ll… be f’ine.”

“Hmmmm, well if the time traveller says it’ll be fine, who am I to worry?” asked Tim, a joking lilt infused into his reply to cover the obvious worry still lurking just below the surface.

Sims huffed good naturedly, and seemed to settle further back into the pillows, his energy drained from the excitement of Tim’s news. Whilst it wasn't the longest Sims had been awake, it was definitely on the longer side. Tim was just thankful for all the time he had gotten today, and it was nice to have a purpose for his weekend.

“Well don't stay up for my sake! I need to be heading out soon anyways, otherwise I might bump into that night nurse again.” Tim shivered for dramatic effect, but really if he never bumped into that woman again it would be too soon. Sims gave Tim a tiny smile and another featherlight hand pat. Tim took that as his excuse to leave, and assured Sims that he would be back to visit after work on Monday with the promised radio. He glanced back just once before leaving, and realised that Sims was still looking towards where Tim was moving, but the small smile had transformed to something far more tired.

Monday morning saw Tim, Sasha, and Jon once again gathered around the break room table for lunch. This time, however, Jon was reaching the end of his proverbial tether with Sasha and Tim’s uncharacteristically insubordinate attitudes.

He had been quite patient with his colleagues up until this point, he thought. He had let them dictate his Statement/Tape consumption the week before in an effort to try and appease them in regards to Martin’s absence. Jon personally thought Martin was skipping, but the less he had to deal with him around, the better his week went honestly. Sure, the lack of tea was becoming noticeable, but overall the Archives were running smoother than before Martin’s sudden “illness”.  And sure, he was a little worried himself, as the other Martin hadn't shown up in a timely manner on the Tapes yet, and Martin was at least helpful in giving Jon someone to rely on when Tim and Sasha got like this. But seriously, this was just getting ridiculous. There were many and myriad reasons why Martin wasn't showing up to work, not the least of which being that he truly was just sick with a very persistent stomach bug. So the fact that seemingly both his normally very reasonable coworkers were not so subtly implying that Martin was probably dead or worse was making Jon want to pull his hair out.

He was willing to listen to one more Tape, but he still had the Vittery Statement to record, and pushing it out another week was only going to cause him trouble.(Like Elias finally realising his mistake and booting Jon from the Archives, and even from the Institute entirely.) So he decided to make his stance very clear to his assistants.

As the other two settled into their usual spots on either side of him at the break room table, Jon attempted to assert himself before the other two got too deep into their probable attempts at strong arming him into 2 Tapes again that week.

“Tim, Sasha, I know you are concerned about Martin, but-”

Tim cut him off almost immediately.

“Actually speaking of Martin, I've been wanting to tell the both of you since Friday something I learned from boss the second! He told me that there's something seriously wrong with Martin, and we'll find out if we keep listening to the Tapes. I was actually hoping to ask you, boss, if we could try two Tapes today and one on Thursday to see if we can strike a balance between information and you passing out.”

“I refuse to trust the word of a mysterious lunatic, who is currently hospitalised, as to whether my assistant is doing well.” Jon glared vehemently at Tim. “The fact you even trust the bed bound blind man more than your boss, who has been in communication with Martin since he took ill, is beginning to feel rather insulting.”

At this, Sasha looked somewhat mildly abashed, despite Jon not having directed the comment towards her. “You know Tim, he might have a point this time.” Tim gave her a look of betrayal. “No,no, hear me out! For as close as we've been following the Tapes, there were some major inconsistencies at the start of this, and Martin's absence is a week too early to be the same reason as in Sims' timeline.”

Tim continued to look unsure, and asked, “but do we really want to risk Martin if Sims is right? He was very certain skipping work was out of character for Martin, and you know why I agree with him.”

Sasha thought for a moment, before it looked like a lightbulb went off in her head. “Oh yeah!” She then turned back to Jon. “Sorry Jon, but I have to agree with Tim on this one, Martin would never risk his job over being sick this long without at least sending a doctor's note.”

Jon found it difficult to believe that his most incompetent subordinate actually cared enough about his job to properly ask for sick leave. Really, the man could barely string together a report and cite primary sources despite the years of academic training and further years working in the library. At times, Jon honestly wondered if Martin was acting the buffoon on purpose to covertly laugh at him. (Then again, Georgie had frequently needed to remind him in uni that it was always better to attribute something to innocent incompetence than actual malice.) But in any case, once again his assistants were ganging up on him in favour of that damned blind phoney and Jon had had enough . 

“You will forgive me Sasha, if I don't believe that for a moment. Particularly since the both of you have once again decided to derail our actual jobs for the foreseeable future to listen to Tapes that so far had had no actual bearing on our time in the archives.”

“Well you know, other than you from the future dropping them off and looking like a torture victim.” Tim countered, his cheery facade blunting the edges of his statement only barely, and instead highlighting a previously unknown sharp edge that Jon wasn’t sure if he had ever seen before. “Or giving us a week’s heads-up on Statements and general office updates.”

“Speaking of, wasn't Elias supposed to come down and scold you about the Naomi Herne Statement this week?” Mused Sasha, and if Jon was feeling charitable he thought it might be an attempt to diffuse the situation. As it was, he was fairly certain she was just trying to distract from his very valid concerns about their ability to do their jobs.

“I very much doubt he will, and if you both insist on pursuing two Tapes today, I very much doubt I will have the chance, seeing as according to the both of you he might magically wait till I get to recording the Statement after Vittery’s. Which I will not get to if you both continue to try and force my hand with these damn Tapes!” Jon snapped, glaring at the both of them, and hoping his lack of patience and professional disappointment was fully on display. He truly did want to learn more about the Tapes of course, deep down. But they were perhaps even more frightening than the Statements, and he was beginning to wonder if he should tell Tim and Sasha to ignore the Tapes completely and find a storage closet to lock them in for the rest of his life. Perhaps his successor would find them…

But no, Jon was very aware that Sasha particularly would be hot after those Tapes if he were to try and make them disappear forever. And she (and Tim by proxy) would never forgive him if he tried to pull that. While he might be trying to be a good boss and keep them all on track, he was definitely not ready to completely lose the both of them as friends, no matter how strained things seemed right now (or how much he wanted to impress Elias).

Both Tim and Sasha frowned at Jon’s outburst, and while Sasha quickly went back to her previous look of long-suffering, Tim also seemed to be hitting the end of his patience.

“Now boss,” started Tim, before Jon immediately cut him him off.

“Don't you ‘now boss' me! I have had it up to HERE,” Jon gestured about eye level. “With your incessant need to listen to those Tapes, and constantly bringing up that stranger in the hospital! Those Tapes have been no help, and have been more of a hindrance in trying to get our jobs done than anything else! If I could get away with burning the lot of them, I would.”

Jon let out a sigh as he tried to calm himself; the toxic stew of fear and anger making it incredibly difficult. However, once he had regained a sliver of control, he held up his hand to preemptively stop Tim from trying to say something. “But as it stands,” Jon continued, “if I were to do literally any of that, you both have proven that you are not above breaking and entering to get what you want. So, to keep the peace, I will agree for only this week to listen to more Tapes. If Martin on the Tapes does not show up, you will not complain, and I will go back to recording one Tape a week. Agreed?”

Tim and Sasha looked at each other, and Jon found himself incapable of guessing what their gazes were saying to the other. (There were only so many expressions he could memorise, and frequently he found that the non-verbal cues other people used to be a mystery.) But after whatever silent conversation they had, they both turned to him and Tim nodded on their behalf. 

“Sure boss.” Sasha kept her face neutral, but Tim’s flashed something before falling back into his usual smirk. “Sounds like a plan!”

However, Tim was suddenly in Jon’s space, finger hovering almost menacingly in front of Jon’s nose. “On the condition that if the Tapes do tell us where Martin is by the end of the week, and he was in danger this entire time, we prioritise listening to the Tapes.”

Jon felt his stomach drop to his feet, and he fought with himself over what he should do. If Martin was in trouble, and they could have prevented it by listening to the Tapes more quickly, would it have been worth it potentially losing his job? The job that might finally answer his questions about what happened to him when he was 8? The job that felt like even if he did try to leave for some reason, he wouldn’t? The job that, despite its myriad difficulties, was probably the most interesting and engaging job he’d ever had outside of Research? (Listen, being paid to be a drama nerd on tape was something he didn’t realise he wanted until it happened to him.) The part of him that did care very much thought that losing his job would be worth it to save Martin. The part of him that wanted answers however… Well the less he analysed that part of himself, the better.

So in a move that normally Jon would have considered very uncharacteristic of himself, he nodded slowly in acquiescence. “So long as you are okay with us potentially all losing our jobs over this if we get behind in organising the Archives.”

Tim backed off and thrust out his hand. “I’m willing to take that risk.” Sasha nodded in Jon’s peripheral, and Jon sighed as he grasped Tim’s hand in return.

“Then once more unto the breach, my friends,” Jon replied, Tim leading them through the shake to seal their deal. “And let us hope,” he continued, hand dropping back onto the table and a wry smile making itself known. “That there shall be no English dead which needs be walled up at the end of this.”

Sasha snorted and Tim gave a short laugh. “Oh Jon, it’s quips like that that remind me why you were always on Grace’s shit list,” joked Sasha.

Jon gave a derisive snort. “No, I was on her shit list because I was not “a team player” and “was liable to get myself murdered in the office for sheer stubbornness and inability to play nice”.”

“I think she was mostly just disappointed that you no longer could do half of Research’s jobs for them when you were promoted,” added Tim.

Sasha giggled at that, and Jon rolled his eyes. Truly, his coworkers had their moments. “This is all besides the point.” At that, Tim and Sasha straightened up, and all three of them glanced to where Sasha had surreptitiously hidden the next Tape and a tape player in her bag.  “You both have made your points, and I have agreed, so let’s get this over with. Lunch break lasts for only so long after all, and you both have cases to work on from this morning I would like on my desk before you both head home for the day.”

Sasha nodded and pulled out the Tape and tape player from her bag and set them both in the centre of the break room table. With a couple of unpracticed movements, she placed the Tape into the player, and started it. Then the three of them listened attentively to Tape 019.

—

As the Tape clicked off, Jon looked dolefully down at his now incredibly unappetizing lunch. While the Statement the Tape contained wasn't all that “fleshy”, the ending comment about how the culmination of this whole endeavour was cannibalism really was rather off-putting. That and knowing that this fiasco happened at the same time as the Ivo Lensik case, with the mysterious spider tree by Hilltop Road, and Jon was definitely not looking forward to the next Tape if it was a continuation of this one. Then again, for the sake of his curiosity, this Tape really was fascinating, as more than one supernatural element seemed to be at play. Tape Sims seemed to agree, as his usual disparagement was seemingly toned down due to the incompleteness of the Statement, as well as the preliminary research results.

Tim leaned back with a disappointed sigh. “Well Sash, bets that the next Tape is the second half of this Statement?”

Sasha seemed to think a moment before she shrugged. “I mean, that’s a sucker’s bet. Better question is where they found it…”

“Oh! Definitely one box over!”

“Hmm, if it was that far over though, it almost definitely wouldn’t be the next Tape. Maybe within 5 Tapes of this one, but almost definitely not the next one. No no, I’m betting a tenner it’s the next folder over.”

“Bet,” Tim replied, and the both of them shook on it. Jon just rolled his eyes and made a very put upon face. Internally, he secretly enjoyed that the two of them were trying to make the best of a bad situation, but really must they insist on doing this in front of him at work? There was a time and a place for such things, and sure they were technically on break, but it was Jon’s job to keep them on task and in line with company policy. Company policy which strictly prohibited monetary bets on company time and company grounds. Sigh .

“While I appreciate the enthusiasm, I hope you both remember company policy regarding betting with legal tender while on Institute grounds?” Jon grumbled, still glaring at the both of them.

“Oh please, like double boss would care if he ever found out we exchanged a tenner.” Groused Tim, rolling his eyes in derision. “But worry not, boss the first! We’ll be sure to not actually break rules. We never did in Research, so I don’t see why we’d start now.”

Which was true. Tim and Sasha, for as much as they liked to commit to friendly bets and other small competitions, never broke Institute policy and always did any borderline behaviours outside work. Then again, they hadn't had a good chance to do this kind of thing yet in the Archives, at least to his knowledge, so he wouldn't be surprised if they both decided to make a statement by ignoring Institute policy. At least, now he wouldn't be. Three months ago he would have been shocked and appalled at the blatant disrespect. (Had it really been just over 3 months since his life had been completely turned upside down? It felt longer. It felt shorter.)

“In that case, I suppose there should be no issue.” After a brief moment of awkward silence, Jon turned to Sasha. “Do you have the next Tape on you then?”

Sasha nodded, and rifled through her satchel before pulling out a cassette tape labelled with the expected 020. However, before she did anything with it, she asked, “shouldn't we discuss the previous Tape first?”

“What is there to discuss that you cannot discuss after this next Tape if you are so convinced that this next one is the second half of the last one?” Retorted Jon, desperately hoping that they would just get on with it already so he could go collapse on the break room couch.

“Tim?” Sasha asked instead, and Jon felt another twinge of frustration.

“Eh, bossman’s got a point. Might as well consolidate our findings after we're done with both Tapes while bossman takes a kip on the break room couch.”

Wait. Could Tim…? No . It wasn't possible was it? It had to be a coincidence. Tim, if you can hear this, flutter your lashes at me.

Tim did not flutter his lashes at Jon, but he did give him a suggestive wink, which wasn't helping Jon’s theory that he secretly could read minds suddenly. But he was quickly pulled out of what he was going to label as sleep deprived incoherent musings by Sasha letting out a deeply unsatisfied sigh.

“Fine, I suppose that makes sense. And we can relisten to them as needed for details since I know for a fact we haven't found this Statement.”

With that, Sasha pulled out Tape 019 and replaced it with Tape 020.

Of course, Tim and Sasha smiled smugly at each other as right off the bat Sims stated that the Statement was a continuation of the previous one, and Jon knew there was going to be at least one ten pound note exchanged later. Even if Sims didn't say on Tape where he had found it, Jon was sure the two of them would go so far as trying to get the man in the hospital to remember where he had found it exactly. But almost immediately after, Jon felt a thrill of familiar terror as the priest explained his sudden inability to reference God or Jesus; like he was almost puppetted in a way. Then going to the confessional and having someone he thought was his friend suddenly know all about all the things he thought had remained hidden, only to find out it wasn't his friend at all. The Statement spiralled down from there, each turn more horrifying than the last, culminating in the promised cannibalism.

And yet, despite all of that terror and horror, Jon thought back in wonder to the previous Tape, and how despite every adversity, this priest was still surprisingly sane. Of course Jon was sure neither himself nor his doppelganger would ever openly admit that, but in the privacy of his own mind, Jon thought this priest admirable.

Once again, Jon felt as if he were blinking out of a haze as Sims concluded the Statement and moved onto the findings. He blinked again, and heard Tim give a quiet curse as Sims explained how he had found the next half of the Statement one file over while Sasha wore the smuggest expression Jon had seen on her face in a long time. Of course Sims continued with a side comment about Gertrude, and Jon saw the smugness replaced with what he assumed was frustrated befuddlement. Jon could honestly sympathise, as everything they had found about Gertrude thus far painted a very different picture from the woman Sasha had briefly worked occasionally with leading up to Gertrude's disappearance. Then again, Martin had also apparently worked with Gertrude, if Statement #0100710 was anything to go by. And if not with Gertrude, then apparently he was around the Archives enough to be there when Trevor expired on the break room couch when Sasha wasn't.

But beyond that, the research that had apparently gone into this 2 Tape long Statement was unsurprisingly thorough and as in depth as could be expected when their main witness was still locked up. The most intriguing bit of information though, was definitely the tie to Breekon and Hope Deliveries at the very end of the followup. Personally, Jon hoped that with now two separate instances of this delivery service appearing in the Tapes, they could maybe look more into it. Not that he himself would encourage something like that, as really it was probably just coincidence. But he knew this would be featured prominently on the Board in any case. (And if a sinking feeling he was staunchly ignoring was anything to go by, this would not be the last they would be hearing about Breekon and Hope Deliveries.)

With Sims’ “End Recording,” Jon felt his already low energy precipitously drop, and he felt himself wobble in his chair before gently leaning forward onto the table to prop his head up on his arms. Tim and Sasha seemed to realise immediately what was up, and they smiled encouragingly at him. 

“Daw, boss is looking a bit tuckered out, eh Sasha?”

Sasha giggled but waved Tim off. “Hey, no teasing when he’s too tired to fight back!” She then turned back to Jon and addressed him, though by now the words were turning to mush in his brain. He assumed it was something about letting him sleep, which he didn’t need permission to do in his own damn Archive, but he would take his wins where he could get them. He fell asleep before she finished talking to him.

Chapter Text

Once Jon had been carefully moved to the break room couch, Tim and Sasha decided to chat by the Board for both convenience’s sake and to let Jon rest undisturbed. There were a couple more strings Sasha wanted to put up, and she still needed to grill Tim about the details of his last visit to Sims.

“Right, the first order of business is the new pins and connections,” began Sasha as she pulled out the Board supplies from the box beside it.

“Sure,” replied Tim as he gave a distracted glance back at the break room. But he quickly reoriented and began listing off possible new items to take note of. “Big one is the name of the Statement giver, Fr. Edwin Burrows. He is connected to the weird house on Hilltop Road and indirectly to Breekon and Hope Deliveries. In Tape 19, there was that girl who was losing her mind and apparently was briefly the mouthpiece for something spooky before it melted her brain, named Bethany I think? There was the purported house she lived in at the time on Bullingdon Road, which was both where a spooky bit of graffiti was located and where the priest eventually cannibalised the faces of two students. There was the cannibalisation event itself, where he ran into something pretending to be another priest, and again ran into something pretending to be an altar server that gave him the yellow stole linked to Breekon and Hope Deliveries. All other figures during this event were likely to be hallucinations according to Sims outside of the brief glimpse of the real Father Singh during Father Burrows escape from the confessional.”

Tim paused as he thought, and to give Sasha time to write things down onto a piece of scratch paper to plan out how the Board would look. Once the scratching of her pencil slowed down, Tim added, “yeah I think that's all the new and important events and items I noticed. How about you, Sash?”

Finally having caught up, Sasha let herself breathe and thought for a moment to see if there were any details she thought important from the proceedings. “Hmmm, I found it odd that the moment the tree with the spider apple underneath got uprooted, Father Burrows seems to have been taken over by something. Or at least been cursed in some way. Seems like it was also connected to Bethany's final words about how “they” wanted his faith, as Fr. Burrows could no longer directly reference his God after that moment. And I think it’s important that we note that the word the priest saw was “mentis” inside the house.” Sasha tapped her lips in thought. “We should also make a note of all the themes related to this case, even if we have to pin a folded up piece of paper to the Board to fit it all. There was a lot going on in this one, and I have this feeling we might be referencing it again.” She let out a breath as her tension broke. “But other than that I think we got it all! We might want to double check with Jon, of course once he's back up, but otherwise that should be everything related to the case.”

Tim grinned and gave her a thumbs up. “Excellent work as always Sasha!” He then wilted a little as he said, “too bad Martin still hasn't shown up on Tape. I was kind of hoping one of these would be the one since Sims implied that Martin should be showing up soon.”

Sasha gave him a look of consideration. “Speaking of, you wouldn’t happen to remember exactly what he said would you?”

“I thought I gave you a summary the morning after?” Tim mused aloud with a mischievous smile. He was undermined by the quiet tap of his foot, betraying his unease.

“Sure, but you didn’t really go into too much detail,” Sasha stated, gaze fixed on Tim. “All you said was that Sims seemed convinced Martin would eventually be fine, but was probably in a bad spot at the moment.”

“Hmm, that does sound about right. He's not very chatty, you know?” Tim’s foot continued to tap out its rhythm.

“That was true the last time I visited, but he's been making progress on that front from some of the other things you've told me.” And here Sasha knew she would get what she was looking for. “Afterall, it’s hard to get new information you didn’t plant using exclusively yes and no questions.”

Tim groaned, this time with a bit more frustration. “Listen Sasha, at this point, it’s been long enough I can’t say exactly what Sims said. Most I can say is that it sounded like Martin wasn’t in a good spot but it wasn’t life threatening, and that’s it. There were no details and I did not ask.” Seeming to realise that he had been a little too stiff with her, Tim added, “If you want more, you could try visiting him with me after work today.”

Sasha huffed a sigh but knew that if Tim was putting up this much of a fight, he either really did not remember his interaction with Sims on Friday word for word, or he really did not want to betray Sims’ trust. Either way, he had offered her an olive branch, so she should at least take it. “Fine, fine… I'll come with you to visit Sims tonight. On the condition that if he’s asleep you do a better job remembering what he said about Martin or you help me with waking him up.”

Tim smiled and agreed, and a brief silence fell over them as Sasha went back to staring at her notes about Tapes 019 and 020. She decided that writing up that list of themes sooner than later would be the best use of her afternoon, and as she flipped her notebook to an empty page, Tim let out a worried sigh.

“Do you think we pushed him too hard?” Sasha glanced up to see that Tim was staring towards the break room again, this time looking rather thoughtful.

“Hmm, maybe a little bit,” she said. When Tim didn’t immediately add anything, she clarified. “We probably could have waited till Thursday to listen to Tape 020 and see if we could have convinced him to listen to Tape 021 afterwards.” She went back to jotting down themes. Afterall, it was water under the bridge at this point. Jon would bounce back like he had the last time, and the rest of the afternoon would be a typical work day. Though perhaps with fewer Jon sightings and all of them would be unpleasant due to how he should just go home after collapsing instead of insisting on getting more work done.

Tim hummed in what Sasha assumed was agreement, though still staring at the door to the break room as if that would rouse Jon faster from his slumber. But after about another 10 minutes of this, Tim seemed to finally decide he had better things to do with his time and came over to retrieve the string and finished notecards from Sasha. And after about another hour of happily bickering with each other, they both agreed that any more progress on the Board would have to wait till either Jon woke up and felt well enough to continue or Martin finally returned to work. Considering how long Jon had slept after lunch though, it was more likely the Board would have to wait till at least the next day, if not Wednesday in Sasha’s humble opinion. 

It wasn’t until shortly before they normally left that the two of them realised Jon still had not made his way out of the break room. Sasha finally felt a bolt of terror strike her at the thought that Jon might not be as fine as he had been the last time they had listened to two Tapes in a row, and thus with Tim went to check on him. 

Upon barging into the break room, Jon sat up with a lurch, and Sasha felt her heart rate drop back to normal. He must have fallen into a natural slumber after the effects of the Tapes wore off, and hadn't bothered to get up. Or at least transitioned seamlessly from unconsciousness to sleep, and thus wouldn't have been able to pop his head out to order them about.

After they both had checked Jon over to make sure he was actually doing okay, she let Tim chew Jon out for worrying them and also let him take the forefront on their report as to what they had done with their day in his “absence”. For luck, Jon seemed to be as alright as he had been the last time this had happened, though Sasha’s hope that he would look better rested than last time fell flat on its face as Jon looked like he hadn’t slept for a week.

He looked so terrible in fact, that Tim had decided to try his best to insist on dropping Jon off at his apartment on their way to visit Sims. Unfortunately, Jon was more obstinate than usual and staunchly refused to leave. Jon claimed he wanted to at least get a couple statements filed before he left for the day, and finish up what he had been working on before lunch, which Sasha found herself nodding along with. Afterall, if it had been her which it should have been, she would have stayed and finished up her work, weird eldritch induced sleep aside. Tim looked less than pleased, but by then he seemed too tired to argue anymore, particularly since Sasha definitely wouldn’t be backing him up. Jon’s terrible work-life balance wasn’t theirs to fix, and while yes, they were still his friends, there were just some things they would have to allow Jon to make his own mistakes on. Still, Sasha could tell after they both had said their goodbyes that Tim was upset by the events of the day, even if he was doing a very good job at acting like he wasn’t. She wondered if she should talk with him about it, but decided Tim seemed rather busy trying to focus on whatever it was he wanted to pick up for Sims before they arrived at the hospital.

It was a quiet commute.

---

Sims felt himself come to in a silent room. For a moment, he panicked as the lack of sight led him to instinctively wonder if Manuella had escaped Helen’s Corridors and had tracked him down to take her revenge for the destruction of the Dark Sun. The panic shifted once he remembered he was blind, and he frantically tried to pat around himself to make sure he was at the hospital. His arms still felt like bricks of lead, but either because his adrenaline was giving him that little extra boost, or because he had been dutifully doing what exercises he could from the doctor, he managed a proper couple of pats and sitting up on his own to reach further down the bed better.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt the expected sheets, mattress, and plastic guardrails of a hospital bed surrounding him and flopped backwards onto his pillow. He doubted he’d be doing anything like that again soon, but it was nice to be able to move a bit more than just wiggling his fingers and toes while the doctor moved his limbs for him.

With that, he found himself once again wondering the time and date, so that he could know how long it would be till Tim’s next visit. Seeing as they were really the only thing he could look forwards to beyond his daily visit from the doctor, it was odd to admit to himself that he still wasn’t sure Tim’s visits were real.

He knew that David and Abigail were real, as he had never met them previously before and he certainly wasn't creative enough to make entirely new people for his stimulus deprived mind to hallucinate. But Tim he certainly knew very well, at least once upon a time, so he was sure he could easily subconsciously conjure the version of him he had known in Research to plant during the time he was in the Archives. Sasha was a bit harder to explain, as she came around just frequently enough to convince him she wasn't just a once or twice off hallucination. That and as he couldn't remember the real Sasha, and this Sasha was so much different from the thing that paraded as her for over 6 months, he could only surmise that if she was a hallucination like he was suspecting Tim of being, she must either be what his subconscious thinks she was like based on the little information that had of her on the Tapes, or what his subconscious desires for her to have been like. Either one had their problems, as he would have assumed she would have been more idealised, but this version of Sasha was clearly well on her way to being an Eye avatar if she hadn't been chained to the position of Assistant.

The largest fly in the ointment though, was that David's dreams were being haunted by the other Jon, and Sims knew that meant that at the very least there was another Jon running around. And if there was another Jon running around, then odds were all of them were real. Because by the time he had been alone, he definitely wouldn't have come to visit an obvious Stranger like Tim had mentioned Jon having done in passing once or twice.

Sims wished he could glare at something to death right now, because it just wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Surely he hadn't had the utter (mis?)fortune of being dropped in a universe where everything was the same except that he was dropped into Document storage with all the Tapes Annabelle had used to tie all the Fears together to drag The Web through the gap beneath Hilltop Road? Especially since he was still missing Martin. Surely the universe or whatever was in charge of his fate, was not so cruel as to drop him into a time and place where he would have to listen to his friends and coworkers slowly make all the same mistakes he had without being able to help, and without having help?

Well, he probably could help if he knew more details about differences between his timeline and the one he now found himself in. Once he could finally get out of this confounded bed. He just had to work harder at his daily exercises, that was all. His weakness had absolutely nothing to do with being in a coma for weeks after walking through a literal hellscape for an unknowable amount of time and then falling through the fabric of reality into a new one and immediately supernaturally losing his eyes and then spending every sleeping moment not catatonic reliving a new horror from said hellscape along with the 4 years of compounded trauma previous to it.

Okay, so Sims might be getting about as much restful sleep as Daniel was right now. Not being able to see really didn't help matters, seeing (ha.) as waking up was going from one kind of darkness to a new kind of darkness. The only bright side he could see (ha.ha.) was that he wasn't feeding the Eye his fear anymore. Or anyone else's fear at that.

Unfortunately for him, that meant he was as human as the day he was born, and potentially even more human than that as the Web no longer had any strings on him. Or well, that’s what he’s hoping at least. But knowing his awful luck, even without his sight, the Web still wanted to use him for something even after spreading to the multiverse and reaching apotheosis. But unless the Web brought attention to itself, Sims was going to try not to worry about it. The Web led him to the slaughter once already, what was a second time? (But if it tried to pull Tim, Sasha, and Martin to their dooms again, Sims would find some way of averting it. He knew he himself was a lost cause, but by all that Fear could touch, Sims would die properly this time before the Web so much as thought of touching the rest of his coworkers.)

He wanted to at least, but wasn’t he already failing? Martin was once again trapped in his flat, and Jon wouldn’t believe any of them about that till he heard it for himself on Tape. And by then it would be too late to mitigate basically any of the psychological damage. It was probably already too late to save Martin without him coming out of it deeply traumatised, and Sims found a part of him already mourning what both Martins had lost due to his negligence. If he wasn’t such an ass to him, maybe he wouldn’t have felt like trying to impress Sims (or Jon) with extra field research. Would he have to spend the rest of his miserable existence listening to his friends going through all of the terrible things from his past twice over? (He supposed that at least this time he wouldn’t have to see the hatred growing on Tim’s face. No chance of forgetting a face he hadn’t seen in the first place, a voice he had barely heard when Sasha inevitably was lost. Neither of these thoughts were a consolation.)

“Hey boss the second! Up and at-em, we’ve brought you a present!”

Sims briefly clutched at his sheets, before forcing himself to relax. Even if this was all in his head, or even worse that it was real, Tim was still here. He was here and still willingly associating himself with someone who should have immediately made him antagonistic due to Sims’ being some twisted copy of Jon from the future.

“Oyyy,” Tim’s voice from right by Sims’ head, surprisingly soft, and that hint of something that Sims was tempted to call worry layered under the usual laidback manner. He then felt a finger gently nudge his cheek and he had what he could only call a brief moment of boredom induced insanity where he desperately wanted to bite back. Of course he did no such thing, but it was startling enough that his mind had come up with something so ridiculous.

Instead, he huffed in mild frustration and attempted a single swat. He was shocked, however, when instead of barely getting his hand off the bed, he managed to make it all the way up to where he had heard Tim moments earlier, and felt his hand lightly impact against something. Instinctively he flinched back as he heard Tim and Sasha make noises of surprise. Oh no. Nonono, he hadn’t meant to actually hit Tim. He felt his breath pick up a little as he remembered the last time he had even gotten close to Tim at the Archives before the Unknowing had ended with a screaming match and a raised fist. Tim had never actually attacked Sims, but he knew that was only because he had been careful to give Tim space and come off as non-threatening as possible.

“Woah there bossman. It’s okay! You hit like a wet paper towel, so all good! Just gotta breathe, and you’ll feel right as rain…” Tim muttered beside him, and Sims found the quiet tone of voice from Tim surprisingly steadying as he returned his hands to his blankets to white knuckle. He allowed himself the time to breathe and remember that this Tim didn’t hate him. Yet . Just breathe.

Really, it did help that this Tim seemed to have an unending well of good humour and patience.

But Sims really didn’t want to test the limits of that patience, so with one more deep breath in, held, and then released, he resettled himself. Then, to try and save some face, he gave his most prim sniff of disdain.

Tim seemed to enjoy it, as he snickered and shifted about in his chair that he must have pulled up at some point during Sims’ little… moment. “Glad to have ya back, better boss!”

Sims just gave Tim a ‘hmph’ for his troubles, though he hoped his small smile made up for the lacklustre reply.

He could practically hear Tim’s smile as he replied, “daww, you’re my favourite bedbound grouch too!”

Sasha snickered from nearby Tim and added, “isn’t he the only bedbound grouch you know?”

“Shhh, Sash! Just because it’s true doesn’t mean he needs to know that!”

Sasha just giggled in reply and shifted a little in the chair she also must have dragged over during Sims’ moment of distraction.

“Aaaaanyways! Like I said earlier, I brought you a little something!”

Sims perked up at that, and even dared to hope it was what they had discussed 3 days previously at Tim’s last visit. His hope grew as Tim sounded like he was rifling through a plastic bag on the floor till whatever it was was removed and placed gently on his lap.

With a thrill of excitement that he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt, Sims felt around the object with eager fingers. However, he felt a bit bamboozled as he quickly realised whatever it was was still in its box from the shop. So, he more carefully felt the edges to see how it might open. And after more puzzling over it and tugging at it and rebuffing offers from both Tim and Sasha to help, he finally was able to open what Tim had helpfully called the top flap.

Then, with another careful round of feeling whatever was accessible from the newly opened flap, and finally accepting the help from Tim to get whatever it was out of the box and internal packaging, a blocky object with knobs on it was deposited into his lap. Sims felt a wave of bittersweet affection for Tim rush through him as he immediately recognised it as the radio Tim had been joking with him about back on Friday. He refused to cry over this, so he took a deep and even breath to steady himself and turned to where he assumed Tim was and smiled as widely as he could. 

“Th -ank you, T-T’m,” Sims said slowly, and deliberately. Forcing his mouth and vocal cords to work in tandem was still an uphill battle, but Tim deserved his best efforts and more. ( So much more .)

“ Huh , you weren’t exaggerating,” stated Sasha, sounding rather pleased about something. Sims was curious about that… but no. No . He wasn’t allowed to know more than what people were willing to tell him now. “Congrats on your progress Sims!” Oh. Oh she was happy to see him getting better. Sims felt himself smile wider, and the warm affection for his coworkers that he thought had died back in the early days of his tenure of Archivist were apparently just dormant and back with a vengeance. 

“Tha-nk you, Sssssa-sa,” Sims replied, a light bit of embarrassment and frustration on the tails of those warm affections with his inability to say Sasha’s name correctly now. But the embarrassment was well worth it, as he could practically feel Sasha’s smile in her reply.

“You're quite welcome.”

“Yes yes, it's all very touching, but first I wanna find out what your new radio can do! Do you think we can get good radio reception in here?”

Sims glared at where he presumed Tim was, as he would rather Tim not jinx his new and only form of entertainment, thank you very much. “It. Will.” He stated, determined that he will lose his last connection to sanity if this radio was unable to get a single station’s signal in London of all places.

Tim chuckled and shifted in his chair again. “Okay okay! You’re right, I’m sure you’ll get lots of music to listen to in here.”

“Mph.” Sims added a nod, but he was sure the both of them could tell just how excited he was. Without further ado, he delicately ran his fingers over the radio to “see” just what he was working with. There was the expected dial, and there seemed to be a sliding switch along one side that could be a few things. There also was a small, extendable antenna, presumably to better receive radio signals. But when he returned to the sliding switch, he realised he could feel the faint upraised edges of printed text along one side of the casing beside the switch. With a moment of clarity, Sims realised that he was feeling the label he would have previously looked at to see what the button did. It was the kind of thing he would have ignored previously (as what use would he have for noticing the texture difference between the ink and the casing), but now that he could only really rely on touch to “see” objects in detail, all those little sensory inputs he had learned to ignore previously were taking on a new meaning. He felt himself smile at this realisation, before losing it as he realised he still could not actually tell what it said, just that it said something.

So, with the next step apparent before him, he carefully slid the switch to the next click over. The radio came to life beneath his fingers, and he couldn’t help the yelp of shock as it played what sounded like a cover of the Beatles at about 3 times the volume he would have anticipated. He immediately flipped the switch back, and gave it the closest thing to a glare he could make now.

Tim laughed in shock, and crowed in delight, “great work boss the second! Looks like it works perfectly!”

Sims turned his glare on where he assumed Tim was, but after a moment of Tim still snickering and Sasha joining him, Sims allowed himself to visibly soften. He really couldn’t be mad at Tim, not any more, not after so many months upon years of their friendship falling apart and turning into something toxic. So he hummed another little note of scepticism and went back to fiddling with dials.

“By the way, I made sure to get you a radio that had an alarm on it. That way once it’s set up, you can turn it on and have it either scream at you or automatically turn on the radio for you in the mornings!”

Had Tim always been this conscientious? Or had Sims’ arrival unlocked a level of obvious care that he had hidden deep inside after the death of his brother? Either way, Sims was so thoroughly being showered in Tim’s undeserved care, that he was beginning to feel a bit like he had managed to trick Tim into thinking he was a good person. Well, perhaps it said more about his previous self’s trickery, as Sims couldn’t imagine Tim was treating him like this because he was an innocent stranger, but some version of Tim’s friend who Tim seemed to think must be helpless. Which was true on some level, but really Sims hadn’t been that man since Prentiss attacked.

Truly, Jon found himself utterly befuddled by Tim’s actions, but couldn’t find it in himself to be upset by the obvious care the man was treating him with. So he once again set his feelings aside for the moment and finally found what he could only assume was the volume dial. With a bit more fiddling, the radio was finally playing some classical music at a reasonable volume. (It was very amusing to listen to Tim joke around with him and Sasha about his “old man” music tastes, knowing that if Sims were to actually have his way, they would be listening to a host of Indie rock and folk bands.)

Tim once again offered to set an alarm for him, and Sims decided he wanted to sleep in now that he no longer had to get to work in the mornings, so he told Tim to set the radio to come on at 7am. He could feel Tim’s exasperation without Tim even saying a word. Sasha, at a guess, was probably enjoying just watching them interact. Though Sims was sure she would ask her questions when she had them.

“You know you don’t have to come into work, right second boss?”

Sims smirked. “Yes. I am. Exsss-ited. To sssleep in.”

Tim gasped dramatically. “ Second boss! I know you’re a workaholic, but this is just going too far!” Sims could hear the smile through all the put upon scandal.

Tim’s overly performative shock was nice to hear, even if he knew 4 years and an apocalypse ago he would have found it overbearing and grating at best. Or, he supposed, Jon would currently find it overbearing and grating at best. But that was the past/not his present, and Sims would certainly enjoy Tim’s mistaken comradery while it lasted.

So Sims allowed himself the indulgence of not hiding his pleasure, and instead went back to feeling the casing of his new radio to make sure he had missed nothing (like a switch to flip between AM and FM stations). And if Tim sounded brighter, and Sasha seemed closer to that distant feeling he would get when trying to listen to her on the Tapes, then maybe Sims could allow himself a few more indulgences before the inevitable came and swept this moment away from him.

Chapter Text

It was late Tuesday morning when Jon was suddenly reminded that Elias was supposed to come by and berate him for his conduct with Ms. Herne sometime that week. He had noticed an unread email from Elias, which was just a routine email to the department as a whole and dealt with upcoming social events (which Jon planned on ignoring with prejudice ), when he remembered Sasha’s offhanded comment about Elias.

Over the course of the day, he found the dread of not knowing when or if Elias would come by creeping up on him. He was sure Tim and Sasha were sick of his attitude, as he was just self aware enough to know he was more “prickly” when he was exhausted and anxious, but found he didn't care about anything other than the worry over the upcoming interaction.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, however, Jon allowed himself a sigh of relief. After all, Elias didn't put in overtime, so he left along with 99% of the Institute staff at the end of the work day. After that, despite how he felt on the verge of collapsing into a heap and falling unconscious, he was able to be even more productive than he had for most of the day, and was able to work till he really did fall asleep at his desk.

Instead, the dreaded interaction finally came around the next day as Jon was reciting one of the statements that could record to his computer. He had barely managed to wake up as Tim and Sasha were entering the Archives, and was hoping to make up for his late start by getting as much done as possible before he collapsed again.

“...the creature looked up at me with dusky eyes, and-”

The door to his office opened with an audible click and creak, to which Jon broke off his sentence with a muttered “Good Lord”. He looked up and noticed who it was that had walked in and felt his stomach fall to his feet. What a mortifying statement for Elias to walk in on. Then louder: “Oh, erm, hello Elias.”

“Do you have a moment?”

Jon felt a bolt of frustration, and found that the threat of his job wasn’t quite enough to stifle it completely as he replied: “Not really, I’m sort of in the middle of something.”

“I understand, it’s just that Miss Herne has lodged a complaint.” Elias looked at Jon with a look of well meaning disapproval.

“A complaint? I could just as easily complain about her wasting my time!” sniped Jon, burying the bolt of shame at disappointing his boss under further frustration.

“That’s not how it works, Jonathan,” Elias rebuked, adopting a more stern look.

Oh no, Jon would not have this . “I wouldn’t even have had to do the recording if Rosie kept her equipment in better condition.”

Elias sighed in a way that could only be considered long-suffering. “Regardless, I would prefer that you not antagonise anyone connected to the Lukas family. They are patrons of the Institute, after all.”

Jon waved him off, and replied begrudgingly, “fine, fine, I’ll be more lovely .” The word lovely was practically a snarl as he said it. “Now, can I get back to work?”

Jon suddenly felt very watched, and he felt his stomach drop to his feet again. “Just a moment more of your time if you would. I’ve been meaning to check in to ask how your progress on the recording of Statements has been.” Elias’ gaze sharpened, and Jon realised he would need to tread very carefully with what he said next. Why? Would he think that?

“It has been going apace, though again , it would go significantly faster if Rosie could be bothered to get me equipment that works reliably.” Jon stared Elias in the eyes, and felt the feeling of being watched hit a fevered pitch. Instinctively, Jon glanced behind him to see the back of his office. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but he still suppressed the instinctive shudder as the feeling continued without abating.

Elias hummed thoughtfully. “Good to hear.” The crawling feeling at the back of his neck finally went back down to tolerable levels. “Be sure to not work too hard, Jonathan. I was informed of your collapse at work and while I find your effort admirable, it is hard to ‘keep apace’, as you say, if you spend most of your shift asleep, hm?”

Jon looked off to the side in shame, before looking back up and dryly stating, “Noted. Now may I return to my work?” Wait, how did he know about that? There shouldn’t be any cameras in his office… and he knew Tim and Sasha wouldn’t have said anything.

Elias nodded and said, “Very well. By the way, have you seen Martin?”

“Oh, he’s off sick this week. Stomach problems, I think.” Internally Jon sighed in relief as this was a safe topic. Though that nagging feeling that Tim and Sasha had been reinforcing recently reared its ugly head as Elias left the room. “A somewhat worrisome turn of events , though not all bad I suppose,” he muttered to the recorder before discarding his current worries to focus back in on this… “statement”.

“Statement resumes. The creature looked at me with dusky eyes, and my first instinct was to cower from it. But that deep burning sensuality reared its head as…”

-

The week continued as expected, Martin’s absence continuing to wear on them like sandpaper and the piles of statements seemingly multiplying instead of growing smaller. When Thursday lunch came around, Jon, Tim, and Sasha looked at each other and silently agreed that they would wait one more day before pushing to listen to the next Tape. (Because really, Jon was still barely able to get through the work day without taking a midday nap, and while he might have insisted on recording a Statement and then hibernating for a day, the possibility he would need to be functional to deal with the aftermath of this Tape was too high to risk being completely out of it, even if he would never admit that to even himself).

Thus, Friday morning dawned with Jon feeling as if a guillotine was positioned above his neck, ready to remove his head the moment he would enter the breakroom for lunch.

The feeling did not abate as the day wore on, and Jon found himself indulging in some particularly bad habits related to neglecting his health as he had slept only an hour or so the night before and forgot both breakfast and preparations for lunch on his way out the door to work. Even at work, he locked the door to his office and ignored his emails to focus on sorting and recording statements he Knew would be inconsequential. How did he know? 

But as lunch rolled around, and Tim knocked at his door, Jon knew that he could ignore reality no longer. So he did what he had always done in situations that he disliked and scowled petulantly at the object of his hatred (the largest pile of unsorted statements), before dragging himself towards the breakroom.

His arrival was met with the usual fanfare, though Tim’s particular enthusiasm seemed almost mercurial with how his smile did not match his furrowed brow. (A distinction Jon normally wouldn’t make, but was catalogued due to his heightened anxiety. There was no reason to be this worried though, the odds that the other Martin had encountered something terrible decreased with time. Probably.) Sasha seemed as she ever did though, and Jon found himself trying to outwardly match her buoyant practicality with his own equally frigid efficiency as he tore through a biscuit from the tin Tim had brought in earlier that week. He also ardently ignored the awkward silence that had settled when Tim and Sasha’s conversation naturally petered out as the anxiety over the Tape rose.

Once the food had been eaten and the plates set aside, Sasha placed the tape recorder in the centre of the table and, without a word from anyone, hit play on Tape 021.

-

Jon felt immense relief when the Tape started with the usual introduction about some poor soul that had encountered something unexplainable. He found himself completely absorbed into the narrative Mrs. Kelly wove about her son, and as had been happening more and more during these Statements, the world disappeared around him, and all that took up his mind’s eye were the scenes his alternate self was describing. But as the slowly more familiar feeling of terror crept up on him that seemed almost not his own, a layer of unease that he knew for sure was his own settled into a lead weight in his gut. 

Said weight only got heavier as Sims explained how an unopened parachute landed at high speed into a farmer’s field, and how the company Mrs. Kelly's son had worked for never officially existed. The details drew him in in a different way than the Statement itself, but he couldn't help his jolt of surprise when a possible lead on Simon Fair hold was interrupted by Sims’ office door slamming open and Sims exclaiming about Martin holding something that squelched like pasta mixed with living things.

Then before that could even get answered, the Tape clicked off on its own, and the three of them were left in horrified silence. Notably, Tim looked like he wanted to immediately leave to check on the current Martin, but Jon knew they needed more information first lest they become trapped in whatever situation Martin and Blackwood had found themselves in. So instead of allowing there to be a break, either for Tim and Sasha or for himself, Jon went fishing for the next Tape.

“Damn my health,” he muttered. Then in a flurry of motion, Jon changed the Tape over to the next one before the other two could stop him.

-

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Martin, are you sure about this?

[CLICK]

“Daww, you do care!” interjected Tim, his ploy blatant but Sasha nodded along.

“Deep, deep down,” she added with a smirk as Jon scowled imperiously at the both of them. 

“Just turn the damn Tape back on.”

[CLICK]

BLACKWOOD

I just want to make a statement about what happened to me. I mean, it… it’s what we do.

ARCHIVIST

No, what we do is research statements. Usually those made by liars and the mentally unwell.

BLACKWOOD

Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?

ARCHIVIST

…

That is beside the point.

[CLICK]

“Jon! I take back everything I said,” lamented Tim, to which Jon rolled his eyes. Afterall, while he might “care deep, deep down” about Martin’s well being, that did not excuse his general uselessness.

[CLICK]

BLACKWOOD

If you’re that worried about it, it doesn’t need to be an official statement. I just need a record of it.

ARCHIVIST

Fine. You’re right. I suppose. Statement of Martin Blackwood, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding…

BLACKWOOD

A close encounter with something I believe to have once been Jane… Prentiss.

[CLICK]

“Wait… Jane Prentiss? Where have I heard that name before…” pondered Sasha. Then she snapped her fingers and looked over to Jon, who also suddenly remembered who Jane Prentiss is.

“Fuck,” he let slip as he and Sasha blanched in tandem.

“Fill a man in before you both start getting ominous,” interjected Tim, a nervous chuckle tagged on as almost an afterthought.

Jon sighed and looked at Sasha to see her already answering Tim.

“Jane Prentiss was that case about a year ago in Research about the worm woman that Jon had to contact the ECDC for. She also showed up in the worm sex statement a couple months ago-”

“Oh yeah! ‘Round about a month after Boss the Second fell into Document Storage, right?” exclaimed Tim, smile once again taking over his face.

“Yep! That’s the one!”

“If you both do not stop stopping this Tape… -”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll play nice Dr. Grouch,” countered Tim, before reaching back over to the tape player.

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Recorded direct from subject, 12th March, 2016.

Statement begins.

BLACKWOOD

Well, a couple of weeks ago, you were looking into that statement about the spider that wouldn’t go away. Carlos… Vittery I think his name was?

[CLICK]

“TIM, I swear to G-”

“C’mon Boss-man, this is important! Isn’t the Vittery Statement the one you sent Martin off to check out right before he stopped showing up to work almost 2 weeks ago?” insisted Tim.

Jon refused to acknowledge the sudden lurch in his stomach as he realised Tim was right. “I’ve been rather too busy to be remembering the exact Statements I hand out to you, but… probably.”

All three of them knew the first half of that sentence was a lie. Not that Jon hadn't been swamped (he had), but he had an uncanny knack for remembering every detail about the particularly spooky Statements they came across, including who he had assigned it to and where he put it once it was returned.

But mutually pretending that this wasn’t the case was a nice grasp at normality.

[CLICK]

 I knew there was something not right about the whole thing from the off. I said it probably wasn’t natural, him dying and being encased in web when he was found, and I stand by that, though it wasn’t anything to do with spiders that ended up after me. Almost wish it had been. [Nervous laugh] I like spiders. Big ones, at least. Y’know, y’know the ones you can see some fur on; I actually think they’re sort of cute –

ARCHIVIST

Please stick to the statement, Martin.

-

Tim and Sasha gave him a glance, but otherwise said nothing. All the better really. Jon certainly didn't need their pity.

-

MARTIN

Right. You asked me to investigate that flat that he lived in down in Boothby Road, and that’s what I do. I take the Northern Line up to Archway and walk the rest of the way down there. It’s still quite early then, and I find the building easily enough. It looks just like Mr. Vittery said it did in his statement, and there’s a big thick door on the front, that looks like it leads into the hall and then to the flats. Obviously it’s locked so I try the buzzers, but nobody’s answering and I figure they’re probably all out at work. I didn’t want to come back to you without due diligence, though – I’ve learned that lesson – so I have a look around the place to see if there’s another way I could go in and have a poke around. Sure enough, as I walk round, I spy a basement window that’s slightly ajar. It isn’t much, but I reckon I can squeeze through it if I try.

[CLICK]

“Jon,” Sasha said warningly.

“What?” he griped back, sending her a glare.

“ You . Ruined! A perfectly good Martin,” added Tim. “Listen! You gave him anxiety about getting enough proof on cases!”

“We have a bare minimum standard when classifying evidence, or lack thereof, when going into the field from Research. You know this Tim.”

“But we’re not in Research anymore, are we?”

“True,” Jon allowed. “However, as Head Archivist, I can and have put into place my expectations for field work in the Archives. I cannot help that Martin seems to struggle inordinately more with simple instructions than you two.”

Tim gave Jon the stink eye, while Sasha just smiled pleasantly, yet still managing to radiate a palpable air of disappointment.

[CLICK]

As I get… closer, though, I notice there’s something on the ground, nearby. The sunlight catches on it and at first I think it must be a screw or a little piece of metal that someone’s thrown away. I get closer and I see that it looks more like a worm of some sort. It’s maybe an inch long, with a silver segmented body that goes black at one end, almost like it’s been burned. It’s very… still, so I kneel down to have a look and as I get closer it begins to twitch. Its darkened head twists towards me and it starts to… writhe in this kind of eerie way, moving along the ground very fast and straight at me. Well, to be honest I… I freaked out a bit. I leapt to my feet and I just stamped on it before I had a chance to really think about what I was doing. I felt it pop beneath my shoe with a faint cracking sound, like stepping on an eggshell, and a thick, black slime started to ooze from where I stepped on it.

-

“Oh I don't like this…” muttered Tim.

-

Now, obviously I was pretty disgusted by the whole thing, so I take a moment to scrape off what’s left of it and check around for any more. There’s none that I can see, so after composing myself for a couple of seconds, I continue on my way into the basement. The window was small. Quite a tight squeeze for me, I mean, I’m not exactly the smallest guy in the world, I know, and it’s only once I’m inside that I realise it’s only at ground level for the outside, so I take a bit of a tumble onto the basement floor. Luckily I get away without hurting myself and start to have a quick look around the room. It’s pretty big, and it looks like it goes under pretty much the whole building, but the light from the window doesn’t get very far inside so most of the place was very dark.

Then I realise that I don’t have any sort of torch with me, and I can’t see any light switch on the nearby wall, so I’ve no real way of looking round. I almost decided to turn around and try to climb out back the way I came, not least because the place had a really bad ‘feeling’ to it. Like, like there was this musty smell, and the air was dusty and thick. Also, you’re going to think I’m an idiot when I say this,

-

“Probably,”

“Probably not,” muttered Jon and Tim at the same time. They looked at each other, Jon with a glare and Tim with a look of smugness.

-

 but I didn’t like the way my… shadow moved. The light from the window behind me cast it pretty clearly on the floor, and looking at it I swear the edges seemed to move. It was like a… like a, like an undulation, like, like they were being shifted by something. I mean… look, I know you hate the word, but it was really… spooky .

-

Jon rolled his eyes while Tim and Sasha shared a look of commiseration and secret glee as Martin used the office’s favourite banned word.

-

Look, anyway, that was when I saw the bottom of the stairs leading up, and I, I didn’t waste any time heading up them. The door at the top wasn’t locked, so I find myself in the ground floor hall of the building and I’ll admit it was a real relief to get out of that place and into the well-lit main building.

I could have left at that point, probably should have, but I decided to try one more time to see if I could talk to the current occupants of Mr. Vittery’s old flat. Due diligence… and all that. So I, I head up to number four and give a few knocks on the door.

I didn’t expect anyone to be in, but the door’s opened by an old woman in a headscarf. I tried to ask her some questions, but it became clear she didn’t really speak much in the way of English. After a few seconds she just shook her head and pointed behind me, closing the door unceremoniously. Turning around, I see a large, dark-skinned man in a very nice-looking suit eyeing me with a bit of suspicion. He introduced himself as Yasir Kundi, and said he owned the building, and became slightly more co-operative after I lied to him and told him that one of the upstairs residents had buzzed me in.

I told him why I was there, although obviously I didn’t mention… breaking in or the Institute or what we do because I find people often don’t understand or respect that out in the real world. I just said that following Mr. Vittery’s death I was looking into some aspects of his history and did he remember anything about the time he was a tenant? Mr. Kundi was about as helpful as you might expect. Told me Carlos Vittery had lived there, seemed weird, always shut himself up, but was never a problem, paid his rent on time. Used to have a cat, but it now lived with the Sanderson couple in number two. He seemed genuinely surprised to hear about the death, but wasn’t able to shed any sort of light on it.

It wasn’t a lot, really. Still, about as much as I might have expected, so I headed back to the Institute and updated you on what I’d found. And, well, as I’m sure you’re aware that was the last time I saw you before I disappeared.

-

Here the three of them shifted forward in their seats. 

Jon had vague memories of Martin updating him about his findings before leaving the office for the day right before he went on sick leave. Then again, “missing” was beginning to seem more likely due to factors he was not going to examine right now. He felt himself also beginning to go into the fugue state he often did during these Tapes and felt one last bit of his own personal dread before the Statement consumed him.

Tim and Sasha found themselves glancing at Jon as his face began to get that very intense and “spooky” look about it he always seemed to have as the Tapes would hit the really spooky parts.

-

I was heading home when I got to thinking, and I was worried I hadn’t really done enough investigation for you, since I got so freaked out by the basement and all. And then I remembered that I’d seen quite a lot of spider webs in the brief time I was down there, and maybe I should check it out again. I mean, like I said, I’m not really afraid of spiders. So… I went back for another look.

-

“Should we be worried about how he's been doing that thing with his face sooner and sooner into the Tapes?” whispered Sasha as she continued to study Jon’s progressively more rigid figure.

“Nah,” Tim whispered back. “He’s probably just trying to concentrate to get all the details since he'll probably collapse after this.”

“...Sure,” she replied, scepticism apparent.

-

It was dark when I got to Boothby Road, but I saw that the basement window was still open. I’d made sure to bring a torch this time, and after a quick check to make sure nobody was watching, I climbed inside. I knew right then that I’d made a huge… mistake. The air was just as musty as it had been before, but it seemed warmer than it had been, which was strange because outside it was a cold February night. I turned on my torch and shone it around, but was disappointed to see that all those spider webs that I remembered seemed old and unremarkable. If there were spiders there, none were easily seen, and… for a second I thought that the only interesting part of my return trip was that it would land me in prison if I wasn’t careful. Then, I heard movement. From the other side of the basement.

-

“Oh shit…” Tim muttered.

-

It was… faint, just a rustling, really. I didn’t want to check it out, I really didn’t. I’ve catalogued and looked into enough of these cases to know that following the noise is always a really, really bad idea, but… I mean… it’s my job, isn’t it? So, I slowly moved towards it, keeping my torch held in front of me like a… like a shield. The beam was so much weaker than I had thought it was, and it only lit up the stark outlines of the shelves and detritus that littered the basement. The movement had stopped, or at least I couldn’t hear it anymore, and I’d almost made up my mind to just turn around and leave, when my torch fell across what looked like a human figure.

It appeared to be… a woman. She was facing away from me, apparently staring at the corner of the wall. Her hair was long and black, though it was so twisted and dirty it was hard to tell if that was its original colour. She wore a threadbare grey overcoat, though beneath it her legs were bare, and covered with what I at first I thought were spots. In her right hand she held a stained, green handkerchief. She stood there, totally still, either not noticing the torchlight that was shining on her, or not caring. I didn’t move a muscle.

-

“Oh fuck oh fuck…” Tim muttered at the same time Sasha whispered, “get out of there!”

-

Then, with a quick, jerky movement she brought the handkerchief to her face and coughed. I mean, I call it a cough, because that’s what it looked like, but it didn’t sound like a cough. It was more like… like… you know in a nature documentary, w-when the lion’s caught something and it’s, it’s ripping it apart? That noise of wet meat…? Yeah, it was, was like that. I saw something drop from the handkerchief onto the floor. It was about an inch long, silver, and it wriggled as it fell.

-

“Why the fuck isn't he running?!” Sasha whispered frantically at Tim.

He shared a terrified glance with her and replied equally as worriedly, “I don't know! ”

Jon glanced at the both of them briefly, his eyes somehow communicating that if they got loud enough to interrupt the Tape there would be hell to pay. The feeling of being watched was oppressive just long enough to notice, but not to determine if it was their fear over Martin’s well being causing it or not.

-

I screamed. I’m not ashamed to admit it, though looking back I really wish I hadn’t. Her head snapped towards me and she locked eyes with me. Her pupils seemed ragged and collapsed, and when she smiled her teeth were chipped and blackened. I started to stagger backwards, expecting at any moment for her to lunge at me, but instead she slowly reached up and… let the overcoat fall to the floor.

Her skin was pale, almost grey, and full of… sorry, it still makes me sick to think about it. It was full of holes. Deep, black holes just honeycombing every bit of flesh like a… wasps’ nest. I could see those… thin, silver worms crawling in and out, and their black tips twitching as they squirmed through that… pitted… meat. I mean, it wasn’t human. It can’t have been. Sh-She… It took a step towards me and as it did so the worms began to writhe out of every hole and cavity, falling to the floor in a cascading… wave and starting to crawl towards me with… with alarming speed.

I had the oddest thought, then, and even as I backed away towards the stairs, I started to get my phone out. The daft thing is I wasn’t even going to call anyone for help, I just wanted to take a picture of the thing. To prove to you that it happened – you’re always so quick to dismiss these statements and I wanted proof for you. 

-

“We are definitely going to need to convince both Jon and Martin that our lives are more important than proof,” muttered Tim.

Sasha gave a hum, though whether she agreed with Tim or not was impossible to tell.

-

Except, well, I managed to drop it, of course. Just as I was bringing up the camera app, one of the worm-things reached at me and leapt at my face. That thing jumped literally 6 feet through the air at my face. It missed me, but I was so taken aback that I fell onto the stairs behind me, and dropped my phone to the ground. I-I didn’t stop to pick it up, I just fled up the stairs as fast as I could.

Obviously the door at the top wasn’t locked. If it had been… I’m sure I’d be dead. Or… worse. I ran faster than I ever have in my life – I’ve never been good at running – and every moment expected to feel something wriggling up my leg. I didn’t stop running until I was sat in the Underground and had checked every inch of my seat for worms. 

-

“Oh thank Christ ,” Tim whispered, his unconscious white knuckling of the table edge loosening now that Martin was seemingly safe for the moment.

-

I live in Stockwell, right at the other end of the Northern Line, so by the time I got home I was… starting to feel a bit safer… though utterly exhausted. I knew that there was no way I was going to be able to work the next day, but without my phone, I couldn’t let you know. I mean, I don’t have a landline – who does anymore – but couldn’t bring myself to stay awake long enough to send an email, so I just collapsed, fully clothed onto the bed.

I don’t know how long I slept for, but it was still dark when the knocking woke me up. I don’t know if it was the same night, or if I’d slept right through the day. Either way, I dragged myself up and, as I sat there, it all came back to me, what I’d seen, and I shuddered. I tried to tell myself I’d imagined it. Maybe I’d overreacted to finding a homeless woman sleeping in the basement. Maybe she was sick and needed an ambulance. Oh god, maybe I’d left her to die.

-

Tim let out an angry hiss, hands back to clutching at the table. He really wished Martin would stop being such a bleeding heart for things .

-

There was more knocking, and I reached up to flick the light on. But when I did so nothing happened. I tried the lamp next to my bed, but again, nothing. Looking around I saw that none of my electronics seemed to be on. There must have been some sort of power cut. Again, someone knocked at the door. Maybe it was one of my neighbours… coming to check whether I’d lost power? So I shuffle over towards the door and… reached for the handle.

As I was about to open it I got a sudden chill and stopped. What if she was outside, waiting? I mean th-the worms that made a hive of her body, eager, striving to make me one as well. I thought of that awful case you had us looking into where that woman… burst into worms, and I realised that this woman must be that Jane Prentiss you were telling us about. I never had one of those peepholes added, so I couldn’t see what was out there, but as I took a step back I saw something on the floor, crawling out from underneath the door. It was a small, silver-looking worm.

-

“Damn it, Martin ,” Tim whispered, chest tight with a mixture of anger and fear. The urge to punch something grew, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He just had to remind himself that this was Blackwood and not his Martin. Maybe… Well they would find out soon wouldn’t they?

Suddenly, Tim felt a quick, sharp pressure from thin fingers clutching desperately at his upper arm and he glanced over to see Sasha staring wide eyed at the tape player on the table. Gently, he un-clenched his own hands from the table and placed one over her hand on his arm.

-

I think I might have… lost my mind a bit, then. It all… feels very… strange, blurry. I-I remember stamping and stamping as-as more made their way under my doorway. I-I remember grabbing every towel, sock, bit of fabric scrap that I could find, stuffing them under the door, into the cracks around the window. Anything where a slender worm might crawl I made airtight. And then I sat there and waited. I-I still had no power, no phone, no way to communicate with the outside.

This went on for thirteen days. Every time I thought it might be safe to try and leave I’d hear that knocking at my door come back. Luckily there was no problem with my water supply, so I had plenty to drink. I’m just glad none of them thought to come up through the pipes. I eat a lot of… ready meals, cans, that kind of thing, so… I had food, although after the first few days I had to start rationing.

-

Sasha seemed to resurface as the immediacy of the dread ebbed, and noticed Tim’s protective hold. She caught his eyes for a moment before looking away and stiffly pulled her hand out from beneath his.

Tim did his best to not take it personally.

-

If I ever see another can of peaches… [ shudders ]

-

Tim snorted at that, and Sasha let out an amused huff, even though both of them knew it wasn’t funny in the least.

-

But… I-I think the worst part was the boredom. No internet, no phone, no power. I read the handful of print books I own several times. I-I didn’t really sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I’d start to feel something was crawling… up my legs and I’d have to sit up and check. Other times I’d be awoken by that knocking. I spent a lot of time trying to remember what you told me about Jane Prentiss when we were working on Tim Hodge’s statement, but… all I remembered were that she called herself to be a practising witch and was believed to be infected by a-a dangerous, unknown parasite.

She never talked to me. I-I could have heard her clearly through the door, but she never made a sound apart from that knocking. From what I saw, maybe what was in her throat didn’t leave room for a voice. Strangely, she never tried to break down my door, either. Just knocked. She knocked… and knocked… and knocked.

Finally, I woke up this morning and she was gone. I don’t know exactly how I knew. I-I think she brought that musty smell with her, and this morning I-I couldn’t smell it. And there was no knocking. I mean, it still took me about four hours of checking and double-checking and listening at the letterbox before I got the nerve to actually open the door, but when I did… there was no-one there. And I ran… all the way here.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

You’re sure about all of this, Martin?

-

Tim let out a sigh of relief as the Statement ended and Sims went on to check on Martin’s Blackwood’s immediate health in his own prickly way. He also noticed that Jon once again seemed like a puppet with his strings cut as soon as the Statement finished.

“So what are we going to do?” Asked Tim once the silence had settled for a bit. Tim and Sasha then looked at Jon, seemingly expecting him to have all the answers. For once, he did not.

“We don't have a way to kill Ms. Prentiss yet.” He pointed out instead.

“Well we can’t just leave him trapped in his own apartment till Prentiss lets him out, now can we?!” exclaimed Tim, fire igniting behind his eyes at the very implication that they do just that.

“Now I don’t think that’s what Jon means, right?” asked Sasha, a pointed look given at Jon.

Unfortunately for Jon, that’s exactly what he was trying to mean without actually saying it. Then again, they didn’t even know if Martin was trapped. “We also do not know if Martin is actually trapped by Ms. Prentiss,” he continued, ignoring the other two.

“Now hold on!” exclaimed Tim.

“We do not, because in the Tapes it happened over a week later than it did here! We have absolutely no idea if Prentiss was in the building that early, and by now if one of us did go to check, we very well might risk that she wasn’t but is now, and then we would have two people to have to be concerned about.

“And if Prentiss does have Martin trapped in his apartment,” Jon continued, steamrolling an increasingly fuming Tim and colder looking Sasha. “Well, as I said before, we do not have a way of killing her yet, nor of keeping ourselves safe, nor of even something to possibly threaten her with. Unless you both would like all of us to become worm food and thus entirely incapable of saving him.”

“We could at least try finding something to bludgeon her to death with, or something!” exclaimed Tim. “Maybe spray her down with rat poison or, or anything!”

“I mean, you both have a point,” mused Sasha. “Obviously we can’t just leave Martin alone if he is being stalked by Prentiss. But there’s enough of a difference in the timing of things that our intervention might backfire horrendously.”

“Exactly, which is why I think we should wait.”

“WHAT?!” Exclaimed both Tim and Sasha, though Sasha’s was much less angry and more curious.

“Think about it. In the Tape, Prentiss just let him escape. She obviously does not seem to want to kill him right away, and when her siege drew on too long, she moved on. IF, and that is a big if, Martin is currently under siege by worms, according to our estimated timeline of events, he should be back to us by the end of the week as it is.”

Silence descended upon the group as they thought over their options. Tim looked like he desperately wanted to disagree, but as the reality of the situation seemed to come to light, the silence continued uninterrupted.

“And if he doesn’t?” asked Sasha.

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to find out in the meantime how to kill worms so we can remove some pests on the weekend.” After having established a tentative plan, Jon felt the previous two Tape listening sessions hit him like a train. He tried to mumble something about needing a nap quick, and lost the fight against the encroaching darkness. He was out before his head even hit the floor.

Chapter Text

After dragging Jon’s unconscious body over to the couch (an activity that was was becoming concerningly common, and was probably exacerbated by Tim letting Jon thunk his way to the floor without trying to catch him this time (because fuck him for implying they should leave Martin to his fate)), Tim and Sasha moved back into the main office space to discuss their options. However, what should have been a united front turned quickly into a second very angry discussion as Tim’s need for action regardless of the risks butted against Sasha’s practicality of getting more information before they jumped head first into what could be their untimely demise.

Listen, Sasha was well aware of Tim’s issues. They had practically lived in each other’s pockets from the moment that she had moved from Artefact Storage to Research, and both had quickly realized that the kinds of spooky they had brushed against were probably two sides of the same very fucked up coin. He was ambitious and gregarious, but struggled with some anger issues that she thought only might be solved if he was able to avenge his brother. She was also well aware of her own perceived shortcomings: like frequently checking the employee records to see if anything had changed that her friends were too shy to talk about, or her penchant towards caring more about the information missed than the pain received to acquire it. But in the grand scheme of things, she figured the knowledge she acquired via her various means was better for the longevity of herself and her coworkers.

All this to say that even if she understood very well where Tim was coming from, that didn’t mean she agreed with him on everything. Nor did it mean that he agreed with her. It just meant that when things got tense, they could easily fight like an old married couple.

Which led her to now, sitting across the worn breakroom table from Tim in frosty silence. She glanced over to where Jon was asleep, having not moved a muscle even when they were at their loudest. She then looked back over to Tim, who had moved from angrily stalking from the counters to the table and back to fretfully scanning his phone at the table. She couldn’t blame him, as she also glanced down at the phone in front of her to see if there were any new messages from Martin. Or, she supposed with a shudder, Jane Prentiss masquerading as Martin. It hadn’t been until they had both settled into their current silence that Sasha had remembered that Jon… Sims had mentioned after Mar- Blackwood ’s statement that he had been receiving texts from “Martin” that he was still sick. It would explain, at least a little, why Jon hadn’t seemed too worried; but then again their Jon had never mentioned receiving anything from Martin in his absence. There was a non-zero chance that Jon had spent two weeks knowing an employee was missing and only reluctantly looking into their one “easy” option for finding answers.

Which… wasn't Jon’s usual MO to be honest. While he appeared callus and abrasive on the surface, she and Tim had always managed to draw glimmers to the surface of the stalwart friend that was under the layers of cactus and barbed wire. It's just since the promotion he had been seemingly determined to deny the real weirdness they had been surrounded with since almost day 1, and had been even more of a dick than usual. She knew Tim, even months since the other Jon had dropped into Document Storage, was still pissed on her behalf over the promotion and Jon's constant inadequacies and foibles that he seemed convinced Sasha wouldn't have done. Even more, he was disappointed that Jon was only just now starting to take the Tapes as seriously as they deserved.

Of course, her spiralling thoughts next took her to the oddest discrepancy she had noticed thus far. While the 13th Tape had made mention of Sims taking Naomi Herne’s statement in January of 2016, their Naomi Herne had shown up as they had expected a week after they had listened to the Tape in October of this year, not next. She had chalked it up to their timelines being about 3 months out of sync with each other, and assumed the trend would continue: with any new in person statements correlating to a 3 month time lag between their respective timestamps.

But then they listened to Blackwood’s Statement. It was 4 months from now, not 3. So what, did that mean that by listening to the Tapes they were accelerating the events? Did this mean that they were on track to whatever sent Sims back faster? Or was it that their reality would have been like this beforehand, but they were just so happening to listen to the Tapes at the speed which was needed to anticipate events one week in advance? The lack of knowledge was killing her, and she knew the only way to fix it was to keep doing what they were doing; but on the other hand if they kept going and it really was the Tapes that were accelerating things, they wouldn’t have enough time to react no matter what they did. The weight of the possibilities was crushing, and Sasha knew that the list of things she needed to discuss with Jon and the others was only growing.

“You think Jon actually got any texts?” interrupted Tim, dragging Sasha out of her spiralling thoughts abruptly. 

She sighed. “I don’t know. He never mentioned anything other than Martin was probably sick with a stomach bug. So probably?”

Tim glared at the breakroom wall to his right. “Dunno if that helps.”

Sasha mentally groaned, but said instead, “would there be anything that would? ”

Tim shrugged, which Sasha had expected. “You know he’s going to be beside himself once he’s back up. Especially if Martin comes in with a statement.”

Tim shrugged again, but when Sasha cleared her throat he looked over at her. She gave him a stern look. “This was not Jon’s fault. Nor was it yours, or mine, or even Martin’s. We both know the risks when it comes to researching statements, and accidents happen. We’ll save Martin, or he’ll save himself, and then we will sit down as a department and talk about things. Because-”

Sasha paused and swallowed back the choked up emotion that wanted to overwhelm her, and Tim suddenly leaned forward in an aborted motion. “Because this is too close . You said Sims promised we wouldn’t lose Martin, so we won’t, but this was too damn close for comfort.” In a whisper she added, “and… it’s going to get so much worse.”

Tim was up in a shot and beside her in an instant, and all she could do was fold herself into his arms like they had the last time a case had gone south in Research.

They stayed like that for what felt like a comfortable eternity, before Tim gently said above her head, “Nah, we’ll learn everything we can now. You, me, Martin, and Jon, we’ll figure this whole mess out so fast we’ll solve all our problems ages before it gets bad. Between you and me, we’ll make sure that Jon doesn’t look like Sims, even if we have to tie him to his office chair and lock him in document storage for the next 10 years.”

Sasha giggled wetly, the last remaining vestiges of her moment of weakness getting packaged away. “Oh he would love that, wouldn’t he? He could spend every waking moment reading statements to learn their secrets and we could sneak him all his favourite foods that he denies he likes.”

She could almost feel the warmth of Tim’s grin above her as he added, “and Martin could bring him tea every day, and if he grumbles even once about it we bar Martin from bringing any till Jon apologizes.”

“That’s positively devious Tim,” Sasha giggled brightly, leaning back as Tim disengaged his hug.

Tim shot her some finger guns, “I try my best!”

He stood beside her for a few moments longer, before letting out a sigh. “Well, I ‘spose I should check on boss to make sure he didn’t choke on his spit while we were out here.”

Sasha smiled encouragingly towards him. “Probably for the best. If he’s still out by end of day, we could have a sleep over here in case Martin comes by.”

Tim’s face did something complicated, but settled on ‘vaguely happy’. He waved at her, and wandered over to the couch even though it was blatantly apparent Jon was still out cold. Breathing too, of course, but definitely unable to hear them even though they were only a few feet away.

Sasha resigned herself to it being a long day and probably night of waiting for things to happen.

On day 12, Martin awoke to silence. It took him a solid 5 minutes to realise what it meant, and another 5 to realise that he could act on that information.

In a flurry of action, Martin pulled himself out his bed and quickly found his wallet, keys, and ran up to the door. However, upon going to open it, he found his hand instinctively pausing. After all, what if she wasn’t gone yet? What if she was just waiting before knocking again? What if he opened the door only to see her on the other side? The terror paralyzed him so completely that when next he blinked the angle of the sun outside his windows had changed just enough to be noticeable.

With a fortifying breath, he counted patiently to 500, just to be sure. And when there was no knocking, and the terrible smell that had haunted him for nearly two weeks seemed to still be absent, Martin carefully cracked open the door. Seeing the empty corridor on the other side nearly made him sob in relief, but instead he funnelled that energy into getting out of there as quickly as possible. Except he saw a small lump of worm in the hallway, and he knew that if he didn’t have evidence Jon wouldn’t believe him for a second. So with a stiff upper lip, he went back inside his apartment just long enough to find one of the jam jars that he had emptied in the last week, and used it to scoop up what worms he could before the sluggish things could notice him doing so. Finally, he was able to escape, and he refused to let anything else distract him on his mission. Where he would go, he wasn’t sure, but all he knew was that he couldn’t be here .

It wasn’t until the adrenaline had finally ebbed that Martin realised he was on the Tube line that would take him straight to the Institute. He briefly speculated that he must have subconsciously wanted to talk with his coworkers about what happened as soon as possible, and compare his statement with whatever tape they were going to find soon about the whole thing. Afterall, they would have come to help him if they had gotten to whatever tape he had made about this experience. (Unless he had died in Sims’ timeline, but he doubted that because Sims had seemed very… attached to his version of Martin. Moreso than Sasha and Tim in any case). But these thoughts flitted under the buzz of sleep deprivation that made the world pass in snapshots. Three of the tube car, then one of waiting for the next train, then 4 more on the eastern line that would drop him a block from the Institute, one as he exited the underground. Then, without any warning, his world came back into painful clarity as the overwhelming feeling of being watched kicked his paranoia back on, and adrenaline flooded his system. Martin blinked, and his surroundings were now that of the Institute lobby; Rosie sending him an inquisitive look from behind her desk. Martin shuddered under the scrutiny, and scurried down to the Archives as quickly as possible. 

“G-guys?” Martin called out as soon as he was through the door to the Archives. While the bullpen was empty, there was a sudden noise of screeching chairs and pounding footsteps from the breakroom. Then, before Martin could really process it, Tim and Sasha burst out of the break room and into the bullpen and b-lined it straight for him, shouting his name very happily.

“T-Tim! Sasha!” He exclaimed, relief so sudden and total that he practically collapsed into their arms once they were close enough to start hugging him. Their warmth seemed to wash away the worry and terror that had been dogging him since he had escaped his apartment, and for a brief moment he was able to enjoy having other people care about him. 

Then he realised Jon wasn’t there, and the terror came rushing back because what if the reason the worm woman had left his apartment was because she had gone after Jon? So he lurched back, and a startled Tim and Sasha let him go as he asked, “Where’s Jon?!”

The look they exchanged assured him at least that Jon wasn’t dead or lost, but not much else. “Wellllll,” Tim started, and glanced back at the breakroom.

“He’s been sleeping a lot since the last Tape we listened to yesterday. I think I’ve seen him awake maybe a total of 2 hours since he collapsed?” finished Sasha, trying to inject some amount of assurance into her words, but to Martin she failed miserably.

“He collapsed again?” Martin questioned, the panic surging even higher.

Tim waved him off. “We’ve been listening to more Tapes than usual to try and figure out where you had gone. He reached his limit yesterday and we’ve been keeping an eye on him while we were trying to figure out how to help you.”

Finally, the panic was back under control, and while Martin still desperately felt the need to give Jon his statement, the urgency of it felt less than what had motivated him to subconsciously make his way to the Archives. Now that the panic had finally abated, the accumulated exhaustion of the last almost 2 weeks hit him like a truck and Martin felt himself waver a little on his feet.

“Aw, hey buddy, let’s go find you somewhere to lay down for a little.” Martin moreso felt than saw as Tim gently guided him towards the breakroom. However, he did see as Tim none-too-gently poked Jon in the shoulder and Jon lifted off the breakroom couch with a shriek.

“Tim! Wha-?” Then Jon seemed to realise that Martin was standing there and seemed to become gobsmacked. “M-Martin? You- When…?” Then he gathered himself, and Martin noticed that despite the purported amount of sleep Jon had managed he still looked like he had been unceremoniously run over by a bus. But Martin’s wavering attention was easily drawn to what Jon was saying, as he continued. “I’m glad to see you are alive. We had reason to believe you were in mortal peril only recently and we had been hoping for your return.” Despite the lip service, Jon hadn’t seemed to have gotten the message from Tim that Martin needed a place to have a lay down, and was still sitting on the couch.

Tim himself seemed rather annoyed, and so steamrolled Jon as he reached out a hand to “help pull him up”. “Yes Jon, which is why it’s probably a good idea to let him take a rest, aye?”

Jon blinked up at the three of them and frowned a bit, before it seemed to click and he scrambled off the couch; pointedly ignoring Tim’s proffered hand. “Ah y-yes, of course!” He stood off the side a little stiffly, and Martin lost track of him consciously after that as Tim helped to guide him down onto the couch. He blinked sleepily before remembering the jam jar he had been white knuckling (which he was surprised Sasha at least hadn’t commented on), and lifted it up for the room to see.

“Ah, I h-have proof! Of the worms, a-and-” Martin started and suddenly had all of his coworkers freaking out in front of him.

“Oh fuck!”

“What the shit?!”

“Good Lord!”

Sasha reached forward and took the jar of worms from Martin’s hands, and Jon looked between the two before stating, “Right. Please place the jar on my desk Sasha and I’ll… I’ll let Artefact Storage know after Martin can make his Statement.”

“After his nap, right?” asked Tim, not even glancing at Martin as he gave Jon a hard look.

Jon didn’t appear to react and instead nodded in agreement, adding, “of course, of course. I imagine hiding from worms is a rather… exhausting experience.” While Martin definitely agreed, Jon already knowing what happened struck him as strange as he shouldn’t know already. Then he remembered that Tim had just mentioned a ‘Tape yesterday’, and realised that they must have heard Blackwood’s Tape yesterday. But if so, why hadn’t they tried to get him yesterday? Probably not enough time to figure out a plan maybe… But he couldn’t keep thinking about this because his eyes were very heavy and the couch cushions were looking particularly comfy right about now.

No, wait, he really should give his statement while it was still fresh. “I. I’d like to make my statement first. While I’m still awake.”

“Are you sure Martin?” asked Jon, eyes piercing as he met Martin’s gaze. “I doubt you will forget anything if you take a nap before you explain what happened. And-” He paused, seemingly hesitant about finishing the thought. “-we… we do already have Blackwood’s Statement on Tape if you would rather not relive the experience.” Jon’s obvious reluctance over letting Martin know he didn’t have to give a statement was puzzling, but honestly, Martin would rather just give his statement now and sleep it off after.

So he shook his head and replied, “I appreciate it, b-but I'd rather get it over with.”

“Right…” with that Jon left to go get the tape recorder from his office along with a blank tape. While he was out, Tim sat next to Martin with a sigh while Sasha asked quietly, “would you like me to get you anything? Tea, some soup, a hearty broth?”

Martin mostly felt exhausted, but knew that eventually he would need something to eat now that he was no longer confined to what he had stashed in his apartment. Or lack of what he had as the case might be. So he shrugged since he figured he could eat about anything she had suggested, and went back to passively taking in his surroundings and enjoying Tim’s human warmth beside him.

Sasha took his shrug as intended and wandered over to the fridge by the counters to double check what they had. And in no time at all, Jon had returned with the tape recorder and a determined look in his eyes.

But before either Jon or Martin could begin, someone knocked on the entrance to the breakroom. As one, the 4 of them turned to look and saw that Elias of all people had come down to…. Something . Martin took a little longer to process the sight because he had thought that the work day was nearly done, even if he didn't know the exact time, seeing as the sun had been not quite setting as he had arrived at the Institute.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything important,” Elias began, professional concern wafting off of him like a perfume. Martin couldn't help but feel as if it were rather fake, and did not like how he seemed to be staring at him in particular when he had said that. “But I had hoped to discuss something with Jon before the end of today.” Elias moved his gaze from Martin to Jon, who stiffened completely in response.

“Unfortunately I was rather about to be in the middle of something.” Jon replied, tone curt and face stern. “Are you sure it could not wait till tomorrow?”

“Quite,” Elias replied, unchanged by Jon’s usual demeanor. “Shall we go to your office?” Before Jon could reply he added, “unless you would like to include your Assistants.” It almost sounded like a statement, but surely there would be nothing Jon and Elias needed to discuss with them in the room…

“If you really insist this must happen now-”

“I do.”

“Then my office should suffice. For both our sakes, I hope this is a short discussion.”

“Indeed.” However, as Elias and Jon began moving towards Jon’s office, Elias turned back to them and added, “Please don’t let us distract you from your jobs of course. I’m sure Timothy could take Martin’s Statement while I talk with Jonathan.” Then with a smile that anyone who hadn’t just been locked in an apartment for 12 days would say was sympathetic and the epitome of professional, (but which Martin found incredibly off putting in a way he couldn’t place), Elias followed Jon into his office and closed the door behind him.

Silence once again settled over the assistants, and Tim commented, “well that was fucking weird, innit?”

Martin couldn't help but silently agree as Sasha nodded along thoughtfully. Elias Bouchard was a rather distant figure most of the time, sitting in his top floor office surrounded in 19th century luxury and embodying the posh ideals of the Institute founder. But there had always been rumors that he and his recent predecessor had been far more involved in the goings on of the Archival department than any other part of the Institute, barring potentially Artefact Storage. Yet despite the distance, he always personally hired new people to the Institute. From the lowliest researcher to the heads of the different departments, Elias Bouchard was very hands on with the hiring process. The Institute was also a small enough institution that everyone knew everyone else to some extent. Like a private school, if you hadn’t worked directly with someone else, you definitely were working with someone who had and could tell you all about how that person fell in the unofficial pecking order. Or at least half a dozen rumors about all their sordid past choices. It seemed that an unofficial requirement to work at the Institute was having secrets to hide, and the desire or knack to find out those secrets about everyone else.

All that aside, despite the rampant rumors about Elias Bouchard and his precessor James Wright (though at this point it had been long enough that most rumors had died down about him), in day to day operations of the Institute, Elias was the perfect example of an unflappable boss. He took things in stride, emailed the heads of the departments, and only visited on inscrutable whims that could range from “check-ins” to “you’re fired” to “have considered being promoted?”. In this case, he seemed to be checking in, though the timing of it seemed very off putting to Martin, and seemed to be similarly disconcerting to Tim and Sasha, though he couldn’t wrap his fatigued mind around such particulars.

Tim messing with the tape recorder drew Martin out of his musings and tuned back in to Tim asking, “say Martin, you still wanting to tell us about what happened or did you want a nap?”

Martin spared a moment to wonder if Jon would be upset if he gave a statement without being there to take it, but decided if he had to wait till Jon was back, he wouldn’t have the energy or willpower to give it. So he nodded and added, “please, if you would. I don’t think I’ll give it if I wait much longer.”

Tim mumbled something about that rather being the point, which Martin was too tired to do anything but pretend he hadn’t heard.

So with a click and a whir, the tape recorder was on, and Tim started them off.

—

Jon sat down stiffly in his chair as Elias trailed behind into his office and closed the door behind himself. He did not sit down at the chair across from Jon, nor did Jon even think to ask that he do so. No, the exhaustion and irritation that pulled at him from both sides and kept him from deciding if he wanted a nap or to rip something apart easily distracted from the odd occurrence of his boss pulling him away from the one part of the job he had seemingly always implicitly encouraged.

“Alright Elias, here we are. So what did you need to talk with me about so urgently?” Jon asked through gritted teeth, almost physically incapable of being more polite.

Elias hummed thoughtfully, staring Jon in the eyes very intensely. “I was informed that you had been feeling increasingly unwell, and wished to check in to make sure you were alright.”

Jon suppressed a shudder. “Well, as you can clearly see, I am quite well thank you.”

Elias’s look hardened just barely, and Jon felt his stomach drop. Somehow Elias knew that Jon had been fainting at work. Shit.

“Jonathan.” Elias said sternly, his eyes looking Jon over top to bottom. It was almost like what Jon imagined being dissected might feel like, all his insides on display. Then his look softened back to something more akin to sympathetic. “I’m afraid what I see is a man who has been overworking himself.” He held up a hand to stop Jon from retorting, seeing as Jon had stiffened impossibly further in his chair, almost (but not quite) on the knife’s edge between getting up and cowering. “You have been doing excellent work Jon, but I would prefer that progress does not come at the cost of your health. Consider this an early weekend.” 

Here Elias quirked his lips up into the closest thing Jon had ever seen to a smile on him. “I think you will find your assistants are there to assist you when things get overwhelming, and I would encourage you to give them some of the slack once you’re back to the office. Though I trust you will continue to keep up the good work once you return, of course.”

Jon nodded numbly, feeling a bit like his world had both ended and nothing at all had happened. So he was supposed to… what? Somehow keep up the inflow of statements while also burying his assistants in even more work? Take an early weekend when Martin had only just gotten back from a traumatic experience? And wait, weren’t his assistants doing his job for him already out in the breakroom? He should really check on them on the way out….

Elias cleared his throat. “Am I clear Jon? No more work for the day, nor do I want to see you in this building before Monday morning. Leave your assistants to their jobs and go recover. You very well cannot run a department if you’re fainting every other week, hm?”

Well then.

“Actually, how about I walk you out? If I recall Grace had to walk you out of the building at least once or twice after catching you working nearly four days straight in Research.”

Fuck.

Elias stared at Jon expectantly, and Jon felt himself finally cave under the pressure. He supposed he could skip checking on his assistants till after he was home for the day. So he muttered something about how he supposed that would have to do, and began gathering his things since he wouldn’t be back for a few days.

And if he took extra long just to test Elias's patience, well that was something that could be kept between the two of them, now couldn't it?

Chapter Text

[CLICK]

TIM

Right, since Martin insists we do this-

MARTIN

Which I do .

TIM

It then falls to me to record this Statement on behalf of Jon, since he’s getting chewed out by double boss in the back office.

SASHA

Oh, come now Tim, I’m sure Elias is just doing one of his check-ins. Or maybe something came up that Jon missed an email for!

TIM

Ha! Sure, a spooky email or perhaps even a questionable letter.

MARTIN

Guys…

TIM

Yes, yes, Statement of Martin Blackwood regarding spooky worms.

MARTIN

Wha-

No! Well, not just spooky worms…

S-Statement of Martin Blackwood r-regarding my close encounter with something I think was once Jane Prentiss.

TIM

Direct from subject, 15th November, 2015. Statement begins.

MARTIN

Yes, well, remember a few weeks back when you both were looking into the Popham case, and that was when we listened to the Tape about the Vittery case? Ah, Sasha mentioned offhand that Jon might appreciate the extra help if I could find something that wasn’t on the Tape for proof. Of course, I knew she was just saying things, but the idea just would not leave my head. I thought about it that entire week, even telling myself it was a silly idea.

But then I would think about how I was going to be going down to the Vittery basement anyways, and that… the other me would be coming down with something within a week from that. The inevitability would just… haunt me. Knowing there was literally nothing I could do to change the future, or if there was I didn’t know enough about the situation to figure out ways to prevent it… Every week we would listen to a new Tape, and every week after we would inevitably find that Statement and Jon would have us do the research on that Statement, which would come out to the same research Sims and his archival crew would have done. Every week the same, and every weird coincidence fulfilled.

So, two weeks ago Monday after work, I decided to go check out the Vittery case. Afterall, maybe if I left earlier than my other self, I could find something he missed? Or at least get whatever it was over with so I could come back and get sick on time without needing to worry about it interfering with the rest of my work.

TIM

Let me guess, you went there, and found some spooky worms in the basement?

SASHA

Tim! Let him actually give his Statement.

MARTIN

I-it’s okay. He’s right after all, and… and I bet other me had something similar happen to him?

SASHA

[SASHA MAKES A DISCOMFITED NOISE. SHE SPEAKS SOFTLY]

Yeah… Though it sounds like he didn’t encounter anything till his second trip to Vittery’s apartment complex. That’s why he showed up during the Adekoya Statement, he didn’t find anything the first time in Vittery’s building, so after he helped out with that Statement he went back for more evidence.

MARTIN

O-oh… I-I mean the actual apartment was empty this time too. I just… I figured whatever my first gut reaction would be would have been the same for my other self too. But here, since I knew that it hadn’t been enough the first time, I would try looking around more than I would have thought initially to be plenty. Due diligence and all that.

TIM

[TIM SNORTS IN LAUGHTER]

Ha! That last bit was spot on ! How on earth do you do that? Took me at least a year to get his accent right.

MARTIN

[AUDIBLY FLUSTERED]

I-I-I-I m-mean, it–it’s n-not-

SASHA

[OVERLAPPING WITH MARTIN]

TIM!

[TIM CHUCKLES, BUT HE QUIETS QUICKLY]

[ONCE MARTIN HAS STOPPED]

Don’t worry Martin, just ignore Tim. [AUDIBLE PAUSE] So, you went looking in more places than just his apartment?

MARTIN

Yeah! Yeah, I figured that the spiders would have to get into his apartment somewhere on ground floor, so where better to check than the basement, right? Easy access to the inside of the building, generally ideal conditions for spiders, and from there they can either hitch a ride on passing humans or make their way through cracks up to the apartments. So, I snuck down as far as I could go without encountering anyone, but the door to the basement was locked. I mean, of course it was! Who would ever just leave an apartment basement open? But I figured there might be… other ways. To access the basement from the outside. So I walked around the block, since the sun had set about the time I had initially arrived, and scoped out any windows that might do the trick.

There was, but it was… kinda small? Bit of a tight fit, and I had to go in reverse since there was a bit of a drop to the floor, which made the whole thing that much worse. But once I was in and had my torch out, I felt at least marginally better. So I looked around, trying to see if there was an abnormal amount of webs or something in any of the corners or hidden behind any boxes. You know, looking for something spooky that the other Martin might not have caught. Instead, the only thing that initially caught my attention was the weird musty, rotting smell. If you could combine mildew, rotting meat, petrichor, and leaf mould, you would have a general idea of what it smelled like down there. It was… almost cloying in how it clung to everything, and I could almost feel it sinking into my clothing. I thought it was odd, I guess. But I mostly tuned it out because instead of spiders I kept seeing these little silvery worms in the corners of the room. Seemed like every time I’d turn a corner, I’d see a little flash of silver before it would disappear behind the corner of a box or table leg or shelf.

I kept going though, because I had to be thorough , otherwise I might miss something to bring back to Jon that we hadn’t found yet, a-and you know how he gets if you waste his time with “irrelevant poppycock” . But I stopped once I heard the sound of something shuffling off to my left around the corner of a shelf. I shone my torch towards the noise once I peeked around the corner, and-

M-my torch really wasn’t as bright as I had hoped initially, because all I could really see was a shadowy figure in the corner, right? B-but what little skin I could see had these weird dark pink spots that looked a little recessed initially. Then I looked further and realised they were holes , and those silvery white worms with black heads were inside them. I scanned the figure further and saw it had long, matted black hair, which you know, was impossible to tell the original color of because of how dirty it was? A-and I remember wondering if she could even breathe, because th-there was a lot of holes through her dress where her lungs were.

But- but then she coughed. I mean, I call it a cough, but you know the wet m-meat sound of a pack of lions tearing apart their prey? W-well that was the sound that went with her convulsing and s-suddenly. There were more worms on the ground. So many more worms… (breath) So I started backing up, because this was definitely not what I came here for and I did not want to feature in a worm Statement. Then one of the closer ones lunged at me from a solid 6 feet away, and it nearly got me! I-I panicked and dropped the torch before escaping for the window. Which, of course, I had forgotten was near the ceiling , so of course once I found it, I had to drag one of the sturdier looking boxes over so I could actually get the leverage to pull myself out. The entire time, all I could hear was the squirming sounds. I just knew that if I had looked back I would have seen a-an army of them just looking for the best point at which to jump at me. 

But I escaped the basement without getting bit, so (hah) small miracles I guess. I practically ran all the way home, paranoid that a worm or two had escaped the basement and was following me. But when I got home, there were no worms to be seen and I collapsed in my bed hoping that if I just got some sleep I could pretend that hadn’t happened. That, and maybe I could figure out how to tell Jon that Vittery’s apartment wasn’t safe to check out without him biting my head off since I didn’t have evidence .

SASHA

( barely audible ) Oh Martin…

MARTIN

I guess I shouldn’t have worried about that last bit though.

I woke up at what I assumed was my usual time, but I realised that I couldn’t find my phone and I don’t really have any wall clocks in my apartment. And when I went to check the stove clock, that and the microwave were both off, so all I had was the angle of the sun to tell when it was. Which, you know, whatever; so the landlady decided to not let me know that they needed to turn off the power to the building, BUT th-there was someone knocking at my door. I… I don’t get visitors. No one here knows where I live, and you all are also the only people I really talk to other than my mother, so… And I doubt that Jon would ever make a social call an hour before I’m supposed to start work. I figured maybe it was the technician coming by? If the landlady had someone by doing maintenance, well maybe he needed to check my apartment for something.

But then I got close to the door, and that awful smell from Vittery’s apartment’s basement nearly punched me with how potent it was. I looked down and there was a single worm beginning to make its way under the door. I think I screamed. The next few minutes are a blur, as I ran and got every piece of fabric I owned dragged to my front door to stuff into the cracks. Then I must have realised there were other cracks that the worms could crawl through and by the time I came back to myself, every vent, door crack, and potential gap by the window was stuffed with all of my blankets and towels. It took me a day after that to assure myself that nothing was going to crawl out of my faucets, so at least I had a source of fresh water!

After that, I guess I fell into a routine. Every day was just: listen to Jane Prentiss knock at my door at random, double check how my food was doing, read through my admittedly limited book collection, and do the rounds to make sure no worms had made it through my defences. If I never have to have a tinned peach ever again, it will be too soon. ( shudders ) And every time I thought the worms might be gone, Jane would start knocking again and it would startle me out of sleep almost every time. I, um. I really don’t know how much sleep I got? Aha? Then in those quiet moments when I wondered if she was gone, I’d wonder if you all had just forgotten that I was supposed to come back to work? But then I would remember that you all were probably still a week behind the Tapes! So. So surely it would take a week and then someone would realize that I wasn’t gone in a normal way, right? But then a week went by, and nothing had changed.

( inflectionless ) You know, I think day 9 was when it finally hit me none of you were coming. 

[DISTANT SOUNDS OF THE ARCHIVIST’S OFFICE DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING, ELIAS TALKS INDISTINCTLY TO THE ARCHIVIST, THE SOUND MOVING TILL IT CUTS OFF AS THE DOOR TO THE ARCHIVES OPENS AND CLOSES]

I thought about eventually losing track of days, but I still had plenty of paper and pencils to keep up my tally, and I knew that I would actually go off the deep end if I couldn’t know anything about my situation. Mostly I was worried about what would happen once I was out of food. By then I was down to a couple of cans of peaches that even rationed would only get me another 4-5 days. I wondered what I would do then and then I wouldn’t because really, what else could I do other than the inevitable?  Then I would think about if you all would ever find out what happened to me. The Tapes are Statements that someone who lived long enough and managed to make it to the Institute gave, right? So, what about all those people who didn’t have someone there for their final moments? Would I just… disappear? I mean, I figured you two would go looking at some point, if only to find out why I wasn’t coming in. But if I was eaten by supernatural worms, I doubt there would be much trace left. And odds would be good that my apartment would be rented out pretty quickly after my permanent disappearance, so there would be even less evidence of me.

Right before I fell asleep the final night before I escaped, I finally accepted that I was probably a goner. But then I woke up and there was no knocking. If anything I had slept in, since the sun was actually up and fairly high above the horizon. I waited for a noise, a smell, a sign… anything that might tell me if Prentiss was really gone or not. If anything, the lack of signs was most telling and after standing by my door for longer than I want to admit to, I opened the door.

Well, Prentiss was certainly gone at least, though there were some dead worms in the corridor. So after some running around and grabbing what I needed, including evidence, I basically ran all the way here.

[MARTIN SHRUGS]

You both were here for the rest, so Statement ends I guess.

[AUDIBLE SOUNDS OF SHIFTING IN CHAIRS AND DEEP BREATHS]

TIM

Right, boss wasn’t kidding about the Statements. Damn .

SASHA

Well, we were all under the impression up until yesterday you were sick with a stomach bug. Both the Tapes and apparently updates from you to Jon corroborated that, until we got to your Tape.

TIM

Yeah, boss kept assuring us he was getting texts from you that said you were just down with a nasty stomach bug. Last one I think said you might have parasites?

MARTIN

( shrilly ) O-oh? That’s uh, probably not a good sign?

SASHA

( muttering to herself ) Damn, what was it that Prentiss texted Sims again?

TIM

Probably not. But ignoring that for right now, do you have any ideas where you’d like to stay now that your apartment is… unavailable?

MARTIN

Ah, um, th-that is-

TIM

Because if not, while Sims offered his Martin the cot in Document Storage, I’m offering the pull out at casa de Stoker .

MARTIN

Mn, th-thank you for the offer Tim, bu-

SASHA

( distracted ) I think you forgot that our illustrious boss has a place himself to offer Tim.

TIM

Nonsense ! You know as well as I do that Jon’s shoebox of an apartment can barely handle just Jon, much less a buddy. I mean, the one time we tried to get a game night off the ground at his place, we couldn’t even find a place to set down the pizza and ourselves at the same time.

MARTIN

T-tim?

TIM

Where is he anyways? Did double-boss kidnap him, or something?

SASHA

( still distracted, now with an encroaching note of frustration ) They walked by and out of the Archives near the end of Martin’s Statement. ( muttering ) I know it had something to do with Jon’s fate, but what??

MARTIN

TIM!!!

TIM

Oh sorry about that Marto! So was that a yes on living with me till we figure out what’s up with Jane Prentiss?

MARTIN

A-actually, I was thinking th-that Document Storage sounded safest? I-if she decided to find me again, Document Storage is, um, I think relatively well insulated? A-As long as Mr. Bouchard doesn’t try t-to throw a bunch of red tape at us-

SASHA

THAT’S IT!!! Sims said Prentiss’ last text was “Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.” So if Jon tells us tomorrow that he got a text today saying that, then we know Prentiss is still following the Tapes, even if not precisely.”

MARTIN

That, um, really doesn’t sound good for Jon’s health? A-are we… concerned about that?

[SUDDEN KNOCKING ON THE DOOR FRAME OF THE BREAKROOM AND MARTIN MAKES A NOISE OF CUT OFF TERROR, FOLLOWED BY THE SOUND OF SOMEONE WALKING IN]

ELIAS

I will look into it, do not fret. As for Jonathan, I have sent him home for the weekend with strict orders not to come back till Monday. I expect you all to make sure he does so, as I’ve become concerned with the reports about his health. So if possible, please try not to contact him, especially about anything work related, unless he reaches out first.

TIM

I mean, sure, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to chat with him about… recent events?

ELIAS

I unfortunately must insist. I am sure I need not remind you all that it is not healthy for someone to spend 23 hours unconscious at work?

MARTIN

W-wait, Jon was WH-WHAT?!

ELIAS

I was informed that the Archivist was pushing himself too hard, and had recently taken a 23 hour “nap” at work. While his work ethic is commendable, he has been pushing himself much too far with this nonsense. He is known for his determination, but I find it difficult to believe that he would push himself quite this far on his own.

[ELIAS LETS THE UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE SPEAK FOR ITSELF, ONLY FILLED WITH AWKWARD SHIFTING FROM THE ASSISTANTS]

That is what I thought. So for Jon’s sake, please let him rest and do not contact him till he has returned Monday. 

As for Martin’s request…

MARTIN

I-if it doesn’t work o-out, I… I suppose I could make other arrangements?

ELIAS

Quite. While it is against both company policy and the will of the fire marshall, plus a health code violation to let you stay here long term ( pause ), you may stay here for a week. If you need longer, please discuss that with Jon once he is back and he and I can discuss it further.

MARTIN

( gusty sigh of relief ) Thank you . I, ah, really don’t know what would have happened otherwise?

TIM

Oh come on now Martin, what am I, chopped liver?

MARTIN

( flustered ) I-I d-didn’t mean a-anything b-by that just-

TIM

( chuckling ) I’m just messing with you. Wherever you feel is safest mate.

ELIAS

Well, that should be all from me. I will see you all around then. Remember, do not contact Jonathan till Monday. Let him enjoy his weekend, as I am sure you all will do the same.

[SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS RETREATING AND A DISTANT DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING]

SASHA

I guess that’s a sign we should be getting ready to go ourselves. Did you want us to bring you anything tomorrow Martin? Change of clothes, toiletries, some food?

MARTIN

N-nothing comes to mind, but mostly I’m just tired? I think the soup you got me earlier went cold though…

SASHA

Oh damn, you’re right. Here, I’ll warm it up again, and afterwards we’ll leave you to it. We’ll be back later tonight with at least a change of clothes and some basic toiletries and tomorrow we can discuss if you’re feeling up to going out and getting some supplies.

TIM

Wait, we are? [BRIEF SILENCE AS SASHA PRESUMABLY GLARES AT TIM] I mean, of course we are! 

MARTIN

I-if you’d rather not, I-I’ll be perfectly fine for the weekend-

TIM

Don’t mind me Marto, Sasha’s just being proactive. 

MARTIN

H-how does that…?

TIM

Anyways, we’d love to take you shopping this weekend for essentials! And if you’d like, we can stop by Sims’ room to chat for a bit. See if we can compare notes about what happened. Ask if there’s anything we need to be immediately worried about. That kind of thing!

MARTIN

O-oh. Um, actually yeah. Yeah that sounds… good.

[SILENCE DESCENDS AGAIN, FILLED WITH THE SOUND OF A RUNNING TAPE RECORDER]

SASHA

Wait, did anyone remember to turn off the Tape recorder after Martin’s Statement?

TIM

Oh shi-

[CLICK]

After receiving his new radio, Sims had spent almost every waking moment listening to it. Most often he would fiddle with it to get it to the AM stations, which while nearly half of them were Christan Premier stations, it was nice to keep up with the news and the day and time. He also began settling into an actual schedule , which he hadn’t had in a good couple years (ignoring the time spent in both the apocalypse and both comas). 

Indeed, he would wake up at 7am in the middle of the BBC 4 morning news block, followed by whatever programmes were on the docket that day around 9. (Notably last week had been a trial as there had been some sort of football event going on, so the BBC was filling all their specialty programme slots with it. Not the greatest start to owning a radio). Then some time between then and noon, David or Dr. Doyle would stop by and check on his recovery, bringing with them some breakfast. Usually there was nothing new to report, which then led into his daily physical therapy session. Often he wouldn’t finish his breakfast, and after a short hour or two nap, a small lunch would be brought around. Then it was more listening to radio programmes or music if he was needing a break from the dreary trudge of endless negativity till either Tim came to visit, or David stopped by with his supper on his way out for the night. Then, usually around 7pm, Abigail would stop by to get his dishes before either chatting for maybe a half hour or so, or disappear for the night. Most often she would disappear, but sometimes something would have happened with Daniel or something in the news had come up that she wanted to talk about. She, like Tim and Daniel, was a fairly undemanding conversational partner who generally didn’t need his input to keep the conversation going. But unlike Tim and Daniel, rarely showed this side of her, mostly keeping professional distance and a chilly bedside manner. If anything, her general attitude of practically ignoring him was a refreshing return to form, an anchor in a sudden sea of undeserved kindnesses.

If anything, Abigail most often reminded him of Sasha. Or at least the Sasha he was beginning to relearn. The Not-Them had twisted his view of Sasha in ways he previously hadn’t realised it would, while staying true in ways he had hoped it had not: The Not-Them had lived off of pop music and rap, while Sasha frequently compared tastes with him in classical and experimental metal groups. The Not-Them liked to “keep up to date” on its coworkers via nefarious means, as did Sasha, though for different reasons and different “nefarious” means. The Not-Them seemed to have an aversion to attachments, only really paying actual attention to Sims when it was most convenient to it’s plans of paranoia and Fear; while Sasha, for all her quirks, obviously loved and found friendship in every single person in the Archives. While she may not have been precisely the glue that held them together, she was the glue that held Tim in place while Jon and Martin struggled against their own edges. She was the necessary piece needed to keep their little balancing act from tipping over completely, and Sims found her renewed placement in their little group to be something of a continual miracle.

But that was a very long aside. Sims found his thoughts liked to wander more often now that he had nothing to look at. Or frequent visitors. Or things to read. He did have his radio now though.

Ah. In any case, once supper had come and gone, he was usually tired enough still to drift off to sleep for the night. On those nights he did not, he would continue listening to his radio, but sometimes he would turn it off to see what he could hear from elsewhere in the ward. Most nights it was as silent as ever, but infrequently he could hear the shouting a room or two away from Abigail, Dr. Doyle, and some unknown person. The third person was different every time, and Sims was under no pretence that whoever it was was human. Perhaps unwillingly, but every person or human-adjacent thing that made its way to the ward he was residing in either left less human than before or in a body bag. It was very hard to believe that he would be an exception, and since he was no longer a creature of the Eye, the latter seemed a very distinct possibility.

-

Of course, a week or so after Tim had stopped by to ask about Martin, his now usual schedule of taking visitors in the early afternoon seemed to be on track. He had just gotten done listening to an almost passable audio drama centered around a broken family and their dog, when to his dread and delight, he could hear three pairs of shoes making their way to his room. Now it could just be another new patient that was ambulatory, but his concerns were quickly forgotten about as Tim’s voice along with Sasha’s and Martin’s rose about the tap of their shoes. He quickly switched off the radio to better hear them on their approach.

“Is he really going to be up, do you think?” asked Martin right in front of the door.

Sims could hear Tim’s confidence as he replied, “definitely! Ever since we got him that radio, he’s been a new man really. He’s up most of the day now, and gets tetchy if I interrupt one of his programmes.” The door opened and Sims couldn’t help the fond annoyance at Tim’s nonchalance. See how he liked it if his only tether to the date was randomly interrupted by a friendly visit.

Of course, Tim must have caught his look, because Sims could almost feel the smile as he continued on approach, “see what I mean? Man’s grumpier than my nan ever was over her programmes.”

Sims huffed in response, though he was sure the effect was mitigated by whatever foolish look he must be sporting. “I-I, wi-ll h’ve you kn-know that y-our nan had-d excellent t-taste.”

Tim let out a shocked gasp, and Sims felt a bolt of terror that he had overstepped, before Tim continued as he had. “Why Jonathan , I didn’t know you felt that way about telenovellas! I’ll have to see if I have any of her old tapes lying about, just for you!”

Sims’ instant dislike of the idea must have translated well, because Tim burst into laughter while Sasha and Martin gave some chuckles. Hearing his old assistants in such good spirits, particularly since he now had proof that Martin was okay after his encounter with Prentiss felt like a balm to his soul. He definitely did not deserve it, but he was thankful nonetheless.

Once Tim and the others had settled, they passed the time for a little while with the usual pleasantries. Tim asked about any programmes that had caught Sims’ interest, while Sims came back with questions about what hobby of the week Tim had been looking into. Similarly, Sims asked Sasha about her recent music, and she asked about his own. But when it came to Martin, Sims didn’t know what to ask that didn’t lead to his recent experience, and Martin must have been trying to not address it too quickly as he similarly had nothing to say. The silence that settled was full of enough tension that Sims wondered if he should just bite the bullet and put them all out of their misery, but it seemed like Sasha wanted answers more than furthered social pleasantries.

“Right. Sims, we have some questions.” And wasn’t that a familiar statement?

“I w-ill ans’r to the b-best of m-y ability.” At least he would sleep well tonight. Or at least he would definitely go to sleep quickly, but sleeping well might be a stretch.

“Right…” Sasha said again, this time a little quieter as she shuffled some papers that Sims hadn’t realised she had brought with her. “So, did you know that Martin was going to be trapped in his apartment?”

Sims nodded, seeing no reason to indicate otherwise. Afterall, while he didn’t tell Tim details, he did allude to the situation in a way that couldn’t be mistaken otherwise in hindsight. But he could tell from frosty silence that at least one of them wasn’t particularly happy with that.

“In that case, Martin?”

“Y-yeah?” Martin sounded as surprised as Sims was feeling.

“Did you want to ask Sims any questions without me and Tim in the room? We’ll be just down the hall with Daniel once you’re done if you’d like.”

There was a bit more silence as Martin must have been thinking it over.

“Maybe for a couple of minutes, if you would?”

“Of course! Remember, me and Tim will be within easy shouting range.” Then with that promise that almost sounded like a threat, two pairs of shoes and a sputtering Tim left the room.

Martin let the silence linger before he asked his questions, which Sims thought very fair. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to interrogate the man who withheld information from your friends that might have saved you a week or two of grief. Sims knew he would be far less charitable, as a similar situation had occurred between him and Elias shortly after escaping the Circus. If anything, Martin’s biases towards his Jon would make him far more forgiving than Sims deserved.

—

The silence hung dense and frosty while Martin tried to decide what he would ask first.

“You didn’t tell Tim anything about me being trapped in my apartment. Why?” he asked, his face a mask of tepid interest and his tone polite. Sims’ accompanying flinch meant he received the message loud and clear, despite not being able to see Martin’s face.

“T-im di-didn’t ask. And I kn-knew y-ou ‘ould, be okay.” Sims didn’t even have the decency to even try to look in Martin’s direction. Martin felt a new flash of frustration, but carefully tucked it away as he always did to process never. But while he would have normally taken Jon at face value if he had said the same, Sims was frankly an easier man to interrogate from the stories Tim had shared with him over the last couple months.

“Correction, Tim said he asked you if it was bad, and you eventually told him to ‘give it another week’ and that I would be ‘just fine’. Hate to break it to you, but I would say hiding from imminent death by worms is definitely not fine .”

Sims’ face scrunched up like he couldn’t decide what negative emotion to settle on, before letting out a sigh. The next flash of irritation that Martin shoved down made him wonder if it was just a Jonathan Sims thing to make him so much more frustrated than anyone else he knew, or if his job was finally getting to him. “M-. Martin. I-...” Sims clutched at his bedding. “E-even if I t-old T’m ‘bout the worms. He would ‘ave j-ust rush’d in, without a p-plan, a-and gotten killed.” Then Sims turned his head towards Martin, and even without his eyes Martin suddenly felt just a smidgeon pinned in place. “But he did not ask,” Sims enunciated slowly, and in such a way that Martin was beginning to think that something had happened in the future-past that made Sims very careful about how much and what kind of information he gave to Tim.

Then, as if to assure Martin that Tim actually cared, he added, “But I-I also thhhink he wanted to.”

Martin carefully did not point out that he would have much preferred Tim’s temporary discomfort to not being in a situation with a killer Worm Lady for 12 days. Then again, he didn’t have to, as his pointed silence afterwards and Sims’ shrinking in on himself seemed to make the point for him.

“You d’dn’t die ,” Sims muttered finally.

“No thanks to you .” Martin added, though felt immediate regret at having let it slip. The feeling was made all the worse by Sims’ particularly pathetic look and heavy flinch.

“You wouldn’t , shhhhe jus’ wan’ed y-our fear.”

“How could you even know that?” asked Martin rather plaintively. “You’ve been in this bed almost since you arrived months ago, and unless you’ve got a psychic connection to all the spooky things that are out there, you should know even less than we do about who is doing what and why!” He tugged at his fingers a little in frustration, the fear and anxiety of the past month finally coming to a head. “Sure, whatever happened to you in the future happened, but this isn’t that future! It might be close, but I know for a fact I got trapped sooner than your Martin did, and got out sooner. So no, you couldn’t know I would be fine! This isn’t your past, and you not letting us know about the things that do match up is just asking for one of us to get killed!”

Martin took a deep gulp of air, before letting it out slowly. Wow, he was more worked up about that than he thought he had been. Shit, and he yelled at Sims, which Tim had threatened Jon about in the past. He looked over at Sims to see him curled up as best as he could on the bed: arms about his torso, said torso curled forwards over his legs, which he had almost miraculously pulled up off the bed so that he was now in more of a sitting fetal position. 

‘Oh splendid job Martin, you shattered the broken man. Ugh, Tim’s gonna kill me.’ Martin thought to himself. So he took one more deep breath, and then fully repackaged all his feelings back up to be dealt with later . “Sorry.” He said, wanting to reach out, but worried about Sims’ reaction.

Sims shook his head in negation, shoulders beginning to relax.

“No, no, I need to apologise, that was completely uncalled for.” Martin continues.

Sims continued shaking his head. “No, nnnno, you- ’re right . I sh-should. Should have explained , wh-ehn Timmmm. Asked. A-about you and th-e worms.” He uncurled a bit and his better looking hand started to wander in Martin’s direction so he reached out and gently grasped it. Sims startled only barely, and then went back to verbally prostrating himself. “I-I neeeed to b-be more clearrrrrr. About wh-at happened to-to me and m-my Assistants. I- should not assume th-at you an-and the o-th-ers will be o-okay l-ike mine w’re be-ffffore Pr-entiss.”

“And that’s good of you to say,” Martin added, the guilt of practically kicking an injured man while he was down eating him up inside as Sims so thoroughly struggled through his apologies. Martin kept forgetting that this wasn’t really Jon, at least not in most of the ways that mattered. “But regardless of what you should have done, I should not have yelled at you like that.”

“Y-es, you sh-should have y-elled at m-me quiet-er.”

It took Martin a solid 2 seconds to realise that Jon Sims had made a joke . A jokey sarcastic comment? He made a silly offhand comment, which Martin was not expecting because Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London, did not make jokes. He would probably squash them beneath a rather fetching office shoe or glare them into submission with a stern and handsome look, not make them offhandedly with an incredibly captivating slight upturn of his lips…. Bad Martin! Wrong Jon! Maybe the future gave him a sense of humor?

“Ah-, wh-what, I?” Martin sputtered in response, and Jon’s slight almost smile became paradoxically fonder and more brittle. Without thinking, Martin blurted, “You make jokes? When did this happen?”

Seemingly unable to help himself, Sims snorted and (dare Martin think it) giggled at the very question. “A-always ‘ave. D-don’ th-ink you c-caught man-y of th-them t-ill much lllater,” Sims mused.

Martin gave a considering look, but decided against exploring that particular rabbit hole this evening. Better to finish his apology and maybe attempt some questions about Prentiss before confronting his own perceptions about Jon’s non(?)-existent humour. “Well, anyways, I’m still sorry for raising my voice with you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Sims suddenly looked very bitter, but he smiled through it. “Oh Martin, there’s n-no n-eed for thank yous and sorrys be-tween us.”

Struck suddenly with the premonition that he was not the only one forgetting which version of the person he was talking with, Martin interjected, “wrong Martin. I’m not your Martin, so whatever promises you had between you two don’t apply here. Whatever the two of you did to each other hasn’t happened here between the two of us.”

Sims flinched again, but stood his ground. “Th-that may be, b-ut you a-re sssstill Martin . In all th-the ways th-at m-matter. And h-e…” he finally uncurled enough to lay back against the propped pillows, slightly out of breath. Then in a plaintive whisper that Martin could barely hear from where he sat, “he isn’t h-ere .” And of course, Martin was, which went unstated but Martin could hear loud and clear regardless.

They both startled at the sudden knock on the door, though Sims’ legs were once again pulled up, even if the rest of him was still flopped rather limply on the bed. “Hey lads, heard a bit of yelling in here. You both doing alright?” Tim asked.

Damn, guess his time to ask questions by himself was already done. “Yes, Tim! You can come in.”

Martin needn't have bothered with the second half, as Tim was already walking into the room. Then he stopped short, which Martin was confused with for a moment, before he realized Tim must have noticed that Sims still had his legs curled up a bit from his previous position.

“Second boss! Did you manage to pull your legs up on your own?!” Tim looked like Christmas had come early.

“Ah… Mn.” Sims nodded hesitantly, the slingshot of emotions beginning to wear at his faculties.

“Sash’, look! Our favourite boss will be back up on his feet in no time!”

Sasha smiled indulgently as she trailed behind Tim. “Of course Tim. Startle him enough times, and I’m sure he’ll be running circles around us in no time.”

Tim gave a good natured laugh while Sims almost looked contemplative under the anxiety. “Well, after we get done chatting, we should figure out a nice way to celebrate! My vote is sneaking an mp3 player in here filled with as many songs as possible.”

“No… n-no pop m-mus’c pl’se,” interjected Sims, hands twisted into the sheets.

Tim waved him off. “‘Course not mate. Wouldn’t dare torment you with the dulcet tones of modernity.”

Sims huffed, looking rather put out, but settled when Sasha gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll make sure Tim focuses on some of the more interesting Indie bands I know he won’t admit to your face he likes.”

“Slander! Lies! I should report you to the fun police Sasha!”

“Can’t be a lie when I know for a fact you have a spotify playlist that’s just The Mechanisms and has over a 100 replays.”

“Wounded! Martin, Sims, do you see what I put up with?” Tim flopped dramatically into the second chair beside Sims’ bedside.

“Bully for you,” Sims muttered, but unlike Jon, still couldn’t seem to hide his fondness. Which was… still really weird to see Jon’s face act so un-Jon-like. But… He supposed he could get used to it. (And maybe find ways to make the real Jon make such expressions of fondness…)

-

“Aaaaanyways, Tim. We have questions for Sims now that Martin’s gotten his chance, yeah?”

Sims could hear Tim snap his fingers, as if this hadn’t been the plan all along. The dread he had been stalwartly battling since they had first arrived finally overcame his last pitiful defences, and he let it settle into his bones. Dread and Fear were old friends after all.

“That’s right! And don’t worry bossman the second, this is a judgement free zone.”

“Little bit of judgement,” Martin added, not quite terse, but tight in a way that he rarely had gotten with Jon specifically before the Unknowing. Subconsciously, Sims curled inwards.

“A little bit of judgement,” Tim amended, his tone of lighthearted joviality holding strong.

“So Sims,” started Sasha, and Sims forced himself to focus on where her voice was coming from beside him. “Since I think it has been well established now that whatever spooky happenings went on in your past are happening in our present in the same order they happened for you, I think it would be expedient to get a heads up for anything else you remember happening right after Martin escaped Prentiss.”

Immediately Sims wanted to mention the siege of the Archives, because it stood out like a blazing light of horror and misery in his recollections. So many of the worst things that had happened to them had started or occurred during Prentiss’s attack on the Institute, and most of the preceding events faded into the background of his mind. But, he had this nagging feeling that something had happened to Sasha before the Siege, and he couldn’t place it. And as for how he answered this, did he go full transparency and risk Elias interfering with Prentiss’s movements? After all, he had basically guaranteed that she had free reign of the Tunnels for a successful Mark in the lead up. If he thought the Archives were too prepared too soon, would he find a way to dispose of Prentiss and set up a different Corruption Mark? Which, speaking of preparing, should he tell them how to ward off Prentiss before…. Oh yes! Before Sasha found out from Michael?

And that… that was what he had been missing. The event that happened before the Worms was Sasha’s encounter with Michael. Did he want to avoid that? Of course, but could they avoid that? Would it be better they learned from a source in their timeline or from him or from the Tapes he apparently brought with him? Did any of those distinctions even really matter in the end?

Damn, he was starting to sound like Michael, just from all the time travel bullshit. What was it Helen had said? “Time is difficult”? Well, for him it certainly was now. Hopefully this wouldn’t lead to Michael preying on him this time. Though, if it would save Helen… No, nope, of the ways he wanted to go, getting turned into the Distortion sounded like a personal worst hell to fall to. And Helen had eventually come into herself. Maybe… maybe if he had accepted his monstrousness a little earlier in their “friendship”, for whatever the word meant to it?

Regardless, he now knew what major event they probably would have been fishing for if they had known the future. Now he just had to decide how much to tell them. Or, he supposed, he could just ask how much they wanted to know.

“H-ow m-uch d-did you wa-nt to kn-ow?”

“Hmmm, probably who, what, where, when, and if possible why for the next… I dunno 6 months?” replied Sasha, though Tim made a sound of discomfort.

“Let’s start small, and go by incident. If we’ve heard enough, we’ll stop.” Tim added, Sasha humming in agreement and rustling noises coming from where Sims assumed Martin still was.

“Sure, so Sims, what’s next down the pipeline?”

Sims shifted a bit to try and get comfortable, because odds were good this would take awhile. “W-ell. S-sssasha m-eets th-the D-d-dist-or-tion… a c-couple w-weeks? F-from n-ow. N-no more th-an a month. It t-teaches h’r t-to k-kill worms a-and lightly stabs her f-for worm r-r-remov-al.” Sims thought a moment to make sure he wasn’t missing anything important. “Sh-she wa-s fine. After. G-gave her Statement.”

Someone got up and started to pace, which at a guess was probably Tim. “I suppose that means we’ll get to hear the details later then, as I can’t imagine that would be one of the missing Tapes.” Sasha commented thoughtfully. “You mentioned that I met a distortion? A distortion of what?”

Sims had to hold back a wince. “N-not A d-d-distortion. Th-THE Distortion. U-un-ending h-hallways monster called Michael.”

The sound of pacing stopped. “There’s a bunch of unending hallways that are named Michael? ” asked Tim.

Sims allowed himself a wry smile. “In-deed. But it i-insists th-that it‘s not M-michael. N-not und-er-stand-ing is r-rather the p-p-point.”

Sasha made a noise of discontent, and Sims could sympathise. If anything, she was handling the information much better than he had. The footsteps went back to pacing. “ Right , a sentient hallway that wants to be called Michael but insists it is not Michael talked with me, stabbed me, and taught me how to kill worms.” Sasha sighed in frustration. “So we don’t have to deal with them again if possible, how are we supposed to actually kill them?”

Sims let out his own sigh of regret. It had felt so obvious in hindsight, and could have saved his Martin so much grief. Both Martins, really, and he felt a pang of regret for not mentioning it to Tim. But really, it had taken the entire archival CO2 fire suppression system to kill Prentiss. Just Tim and maybe Sasha running to Martin’s rescue 24 hours before he was let loose and most likely getting themselves killed because they ran out of CO2 would have changed nothing in a positive way.

“C-CO2 fire ex-stin-gui-shers.”

“WHAT?!” exclaimed the assistants as one.

“It's really that simple??” continued Sasha, still sounding shocked.

“And you didn’t think to tell me when I asked about Martin?!” accused Tim, sudden anger wrapped around the jagged pieces of his mask.

“I-i-i-it t-takes a lot of CO2,” Sims replied, shrinking down further into his propped pillows and pulling his knees as much as he could in front of him. Instincts instilled over the 4 worst years of his life were hard to fight. “A-nd I p-prefer y-ou a-live, th’nks,” he sniped.

“Sure, but even knowing we were dealing with fucking Prentiss would have been at least a little helpful!” Tim rebutted, the tapping of his feet increasing in both speed and force.

Sims crumpled a little further into himself, the anger from Tim specifically hanging like a millstone about his neck. It had been a little over a year in subjective time since he had heard this anger, but he had hoped that it wouldn’t already be biting at his heels. What else should he expect though? He was always managing to either trust too much or not enough (never enough with Tim). But. Tim did not like it when he overshared, did he? And regardless, if he had told Tim even that Prentiss was the reason Martin wasn’t at work, odds were he would have still tried to rush to the rescue, or asked questions Sims wouldn’t have dodged and wrapped back around to getting himself killed with not enough CO2. When he explained that to the room, Tim’s pacing circled back towards Sims’ bedside, and the bed jostled just barely as Tim gripped onto the side rails of the bed.

“That’s a shit excuse, and you know it second boss.” Tim hissed at him from what sounded like a foot or two away. As there was nowhere for Sims to shrink further to, he felt himself begin to shake from the anxiety and subconscious terror that this would finally be the time that Tim made good on his threats from a year and a half ago three years ago (two years into the future). 

“Regardless of his reasons, he’s going to be more honest with us from now on, yes?” Queried Sasha, and Sims was nodding before he really realised what she was actually asking. After he had, he allowed himself to wallow a bit in resignation. He was going to be more honest with them, but… well there were some things they probably shouldn’t know too soon for their own safety.

“In s-sofar as I c-an be.” Sims added, because it was important that they knew he couldn't tell them everything. At least not now, nor was he post-Apocalyptic Google if there was a question he didn't know the answer to.

Sasha sighed and the sound of pacing resumed. “I suppose that will have to do,” she muttered. Then she shifted in her chair and resumed her thoughts. “Right, so CO2. We’ll have to go to the shops and pick up as many CO2 based fire extinguishers as possible ASAP. And we'll need to get Jon on board with convincing Elias to change the sprinkler system over to CO2 in the Archives.”

“We should pick up some on our way back to the archives after this,” added Tim. “Make sure Martin has some for protection.” 

Sasha hummed her assent, and further added, “And perhaps we should get some for ourselves while we’re at it, for our own homes. Can’t be too careful afterall.” There was a short bout of silence, which starkly reminded Sims that he could not see , but he saved the feeling for later. “So Sims,” Sims shifted back to a position that was slightly less defensive and tried to “look” towards where he could hear Sasha. “After my encounter with the Distortion, what can we expect to deal with after that?” While Sims thought about how to address the question, she clarified: “Mostly, will there be anything we need to worry about right away? Or will we have some down time?” Well, that was an important clarification.

The next thing was definitely the siege of the Archives, it was just that it happened a while after Martin had started to live in the archives. He remembered that Martin had moved into the archives in early spring, while Prentiss had attacked the Institute in July, so a solid 4 months between then and Martin’s entrapment. As for Sasha’s encounter and Prentiss… well Prentiss had definitely been in the Tunnels by then, but it couldn’t have been more than a month after Martin had moved in. So… Sims wobbled his hand in the universal sign for “kind of”.

“N-ext th-thing won’t b-be f-or a couple m-months af-ter y-our encounter. P-prent’ss needs t-ime to es-ta-blish h’r power n-ow th-that sh’s l-let Martin go.” There, forthcoming, but not dangerously so.

“Right, something related to Prentiss, a few months off from my encounter with the hallway monster.” The pacing from Tim has slowed back down and stopped as Sasha replied. “How important is that event would you say?”

Sims’ face must have done something while the panic and heartbreak ripped through his mind, because suddenly there were sounds of shifting and Martin gently asking him if he’d like his hand held. The only thing that registered was Martin and hands, and if it was Martin, Sims would happily throw himself to the wolves if it meant he could hold his hand for even a moment. Instinctively he began searching out Martin's hand, and within a moment a warm, human hand was clasped around his good one.

“J-Sims, y-you okay? You don't have to tell us about it yet if we've pushed too hard today.” Sims gently squeezed the hand in his and tried to pull his scattered thoughts together.

“The e-event i-s v-very important.” Sims replied solemnly once he was no longer at risk of saying something foolish, deliberately ignoring Martin’s olive branch. “It w-was the e-nd of usss th-thinking we w-were in a nor-mal archive.” And the last time he ever saw Sasha alive, but no, not yet. “N-not that w-we ev-er truly th-thought th-e job wasss nor-m-mal. Ju-st that none of u-sss could p-pretend o-ther-wise after th-that.”

“W-wait, not only do you make jokes, but you knew the statements were real even when you were actively trying to debunk them?!” Exclaimed Martin, exasperated incredulity so heavy in his voice, Sims didn't even need to see his face to catch on.

Sims felt a thrill of annoyance at Martin's wording, but could not help his smile. “N-not all of th-em. Ju-st…”

“The ones that record to Tape, right?” Finished Sasha softly.  Sims gave a resigned nod.

“Yes. Real Statements o-only re-cord to “physical” m-media. Try-ing d-digital will only b-break you-r e-quip-ment, as I am s-sure you h-have no-ticed.”

“Wait, back up,” interjected Tim. “What's this about Sims' sense of humor? Did you finally catch on to one of his jokes?” Sims could guess that Tim was probably smiling, and found himself infinitely thankful that Tim was still able to so quickly set aside his grievances for appearance's sake. But he was distracted by Martin's sputter beside him.

“I-I mean, Jon’s just so…”

“Dickish?” Interjected Tim.

“High strung?” Added Sasha, a hint of reproach layered in.

“Grouchy,” finished Martin. “He just seems too uptight to make jokes? So I didn't expect it when Sims made a joke about-” Martin cut himself off, before continuing. “About something rather dark and very dry.”

Sims flinched a little at the very accurate descriptions of his early tenure as Head Archivist. If only one good thing came of the trauma, it was the desire to be more open with the people in his life that he wanted closer to him. But Tim's laughter brought him back to the present.

“Ha! Yep that's Jon alright. Driest humour alive and never appropriate for polite company.”

Sims allowed himself a small fragile quirk of the lips. “S-see? I m-make jo-kes.”

“When you aren't trying to be superior, sure.” Allowed Tim, and Sims dropped the upturn of his lips. Ah, he spoke too soon. “And besides, you’re being ominous there boss the second. How will this be different from Sasha getting attacked?”

Hmm, best to just use the physical evidence and discuss the details later. So Sims rubbed a bit at his arms, specifically the scarred divots from the worms. “I ah, g-got these th-then.”

The silent tension balanced on a knife’s edge for a single moment. Then Martin almost shouted, “Those are from P-Prentiss??!” with Sasha and Tim making similarly horrified sounding exclamations.

He personally saw the worm holes as a… rather unfortunate consequence of that day. However after he had found out about Sasha and had some time to think about things, he had found that viewing his bum leg from the botched worm removal a fitting reparation for not figuring out what had happened to Sasha sooner, or even saving her from her fate entirely. Sure, the pockmarks were unsightly, but he had always had greater things to worry about than his appearance. At some point he had almost forgotten he had them, but they had a tendency to itch and ache, particularly when it rained. And now that he had his dreams back, he found Prentiss made a fairly regular appearance, trumped only by the apocalypse, Daisy, and the Buried. It was fine. It would pass. 

He realised he had been scratching as the silence in the room stretched longer than intended. So he gripped the sheets and replied. “Yes. R-reason I p-robably won’t be w-walking m-ch af-ter I g-get b-ack on my feet. Bot-ched rem-moval and s-subsequent re-introduction ‘f worms to i-im-por-tant ligaments m-makes f’r bad kn-knees.” He tried to grin, to lighten the news, but he didn’t think he did much in the way of helping things.

“Boss that’s fucked.” Stated Tim, and Sims wished he could see his face to know if that tone was a sarcastic dry tone, or a genuinely horrified dry tone.

“Does Dr. Doyle even know about that yet?” asked Martin, and Sims could tell that he was trying to hold back the rush of emotions he was prone to before the Lonely. If he hadn’t Known Martin so well though, he would never have been able to tell that exact tone.

So Sims shrugged. “It’s n-not come u-up y-et. I w-would be sur-pri-sed if he did not h-ve his sus-pi-cions th-though.”

“Okay, so, something big enough that you were permanently disabled.” Sasha interjected, seemingly trying to keep them on track. “Is there anything else you can tell us now?” 

“T-tim pulled th-the sc-ars off b-better, or s-so I was t-old,” Sims let slip without thinking.

The pacing stopped as the heavy thump of a body landing in a stiff hospital chair echoed in the room. “I what ?” croaked Tim, and Martin’s hand left Sims’ (though he didn’t sound like he got up).

“A-ah. Y-you tri-ed. To save m-me, I s-. ‘Spose.” Sims couldn’t look at anything of course, but he turned his head towards his lap as he drew his hands together to fidget with them now that Martin no longer deemed it necessary to comfort the stranger wearing his boss’s skin. (And maybe he was a Stranger now, and that was why he hadn’t died yet in this room where monsters went to revive.)

“So where were the rest of us? Did we also get attacked by the worms?” asked Sasha, overwhelming curiosity evident. She would have been such a good Head Archivist. Gertrude had chosen well. Too bad Sims existed already.

Sims shook his head. He really did not want to talk about Sasha’s fate. “Martin w-was i-in the Tunnels, a-nd Sa-sha was i-in Artefact St-orage. W-we were in th-e Archives.”

“Tunnels?” Sasha continued. Fuck, he should have tried to lie.

“U-under the In-sti-tute.” Maybe this would be safer. Maybe…

“There’s tunnels under the Institute?” asked Tim incredulously.

Sims nodded, the shaking that had subsided earlier beginning again. He. Really . Did not want to talk about this now. If he told them too much, would Jonah See next time they came into work? Would he kill them? Would he find the Tapes and try and kill Sims himself? Was Sims cursed to only make things worse? And what would qualify as too much? Did the knowledge that the Tunnels existed count as too much? Did knowing weeks ahead of time that CO2 could be used to combat Prentiss count as too much too soon? Would letting it slip that Sasha got eaten by the Not-Them clue Jonah into the fact that his initial Stranger Mark plan wouldn’t work? Would Jonah try a different Stranger to get to Jon, or would he still try regardless to use the Not-Them?

He didn’t realise he had been hyperventilating until there was a sudden coolness originating from a sharp poke in his upper arm. Sims would have blinked if possible, but suddenly found his worries a very distanced thing, and his breathing slowing down as the adrenaline wore off.

“You back with us Jon?” asked Daniel, his voice now as familiar to Sims as any of his assistants at this point. He nodded, the effort more than usual due to his continued distance from his body. “Good! You might feel a little fuzzy for an hour or two, and if you feel the need to sleep, I would recommend indulging it. Seems like you had a little scare there. Did you want some privacy, or did you want to keep talking if your visitors promise to be on their best behaviour?”

While Sims doubted he would be much help now that he seemed to be drugged, he figured he still owed his assistants an explanation. Or at least as much of one as his splintered mind could formulate. So he lifted two fingers, and Daniel wandered off to let the others back into the room. Huh, he must have really been out of it to miss them get escorted out.

They filed in, and he heard them settle into the various chairs they had been keeping him his room for such occasions. Someone settled close to him on his left, while the other rustling registered just far enough away from his immediate reach that he couldn't be bothered to track them through the stuffed cotton thoughts.

“Sorry, we pushed too hard,” apologised Martin from right beside him. Sims felt himself instinctively shake his head in denial, as Martin should never apologize, especially over something as inconsequential as Sims' inability to handle a couple questions.

“He's right though,” Tim added. “Once we knew we had time after Sasha’s encounter, we should have left well enough alone. It's been a long afternoon, and I think this is the longest you've stayed up when I visit. We can talk about immediate plans if you'd like, or we can let you sleep.”

Sleep did sound good, excellent even, but he needed to be useful. So he shook his head again and tried desperately to form words through the vast distance between mind and mouth. “It. I-is. O. K-kay.” Unfortunately, further words seemed too high mountain to climb for the moment.

So when nothing more seemed forthcoming, Martin pushed back a little. “It really wasn't, but we can discuss that another day. Will you be alright if we call it for the day and visit tomorrow?”

Sims was too tired to argue, and thus nodded his assent. “B-ring. Jon?” It would be best if all of them were in the loop, so that his doppelganger didn't get any terrible ideas too soon without someone to be there to nip it in the bud.

He could almost hear the collective wince at that as someone sucked in a breath through their teeth. Dread settled in the pit of his stomach, despite the haze.

“So Elias stopped by and convinced Jon to go home for the weekend, and told us not to contact him since trying to trying to find out what happened to Martin with the Tapes caused Jon to need a full day of recovery.”

If Jon were not drugged, he knew he would be panicking. As it stood, he felt his body make a vague attempt at panic, but quickly stabilised back to his baseline as an incredibly muted version of alarm gently brushed at the edges of his mind. It was easy to ignore, and while he was fairly certain there was a good reason this time to be terrified, the candy floss edges of his thoughts flitted about in ways that made assessing risk nigh impossible. So he hummed a vague affirmative, and slowly picked apart the words. Jonah shouldn’t be worried about Jon’s development right now, especially not that Jon was going too deep too quick. What on Earth had they been up to in the Archives? But it was important that Jon join them for the next time they discussed, so Sims tried to stumble through the sentiment.

“Th-en. W-wait . T-ill. J-on. Is. ‘Ere.”

“Alright Sims, we can do that. We’ll wait to ask more spooky questions till we can drag bossman to your bedside. You comfy in the meantime?” Asked Tim, tone indiscernible to Sims’ mind.

Sims nodded. It had been a very eventful afternoon compared to his recent usual, so winding things up seemed a good thing to do.

“Well, you rest up, and don’t burn down the hospital while we’re gone, alright?” joked Tim, followed by subdued farewells from the other two. Sims merely tried to smile and wave them off. He didn’t deserve the kindness after failing to provide the assistance they needed after all, and while he did not have feelings about it now, he was sure he would have them later.

Then, the silence settled, and Sims let the drugs take him very far away. He could have his second breakdown later.