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Chapter Text

The wind whistled around his ears as Martin tried to hold onto Jon's limp body. They seemed to be falling, but how? where? Where did the Panopticon go?

All around him, stretching into every corner of his vision, was what could only be described as a galaxy in space: faint star-like orbs and glowing strings everywhere, like a web and droplets of water.

They seemed to be moving as well. Some strings intertwining, growing thicker, others snapping off, and almost everything covered with the droplets.

It was definitely a marvel to behold. But there was no time for that because as he looked around some more, he realized they were getting closer to hitting one of the webs.

"hm? what- MARTIN!"

Jon was now awake, and as he tried to yell over the wind, they hit the web, and he was torn from Martin's arms in another direction, and everything in Martin's vision went black.

. . .

That morning had been busy. Sasha got sucked into helping an old coworker in the artifacts storage and he and Tim had been give extra work by their department manager.

"Jonny boy, what did we do to deserve this fate~"

Tim muffled out in a weird accent, his face pressed into the paperwork on his desk.

"Well, I don't know what you expected to happen when you told our boss, to his face, that his toupé was crooked."

"How was I supposed to know that it was real hair~!"

Jon rolled his eyes. He didn't mind the extra work, he would just stay back an hour or two and get it done. Taking a sip of his coffee, he spit it back out because in the last few hours it had gone cold.

"I'll be right back."

He said, scooting his chair back and getting up towards the door.

"No~ don't leave me too!"

Jon slightly chuckled to himself as he walked out of the office towards the smell of the fresh coffee down the hall. Around his first week there, they took out the coffee machine in his department because there had been something growing in the pot.

Now, the only option left was the machine in the library.

Luckily, it was quiet in there. He could have used it as a break from the work, but his mind was still stuck on that statement of the college boy who found himself halfway through a wall and thought that it was 'supernatural' instead of him trying to go through a door that wasn't there.

His mind was elsewhere, and he accidentally poured some of it onto his hand.

"AH-"

He yelps a bit, hearing it echo around the empty aisles.

"Oh no, let me help you with that!"

A voice said from behind as they took Jon's burnt hand, causing him to jump again because he was sure no one had been there before.

He turned to see a tall, large man holding his hand as gently as possible, babbling about how to fix the burn. He ran his hand through his red hair. Hair that, if he stared at it long enough it had strands of blond too. The man was still muttering as Jon shook himself back to normal.

"Uh, don't worry about it, I'm fine."

Jon took his hand back from the warm, comforting grasp, and a part of him wished he didn't. While another, significantly larger part of him, decided that thought was outlandish and embarrassing.

And he started blushing because why would he want to hold this guy's hand? Jon didn't even know him, or his name?!

"Oh, I'm sorry, uh, can I help you with anything else, then, mister~?"

The man apologized, scratching at the slight stubble near his glasses.

"Jon- Jonathan Sims. And you are?"

"Oh, uh, my name is Martin, nice to meet you!"

The man- Martin, held out his hand again.

"Nice to meet you, too. I ought to be going back to work, though."

He shook his hand quickly before taking his half-filled mug and speeding out the door. His face was red from not only being clumsy with the pot but also from a random man in the library holding his hand.

. . .

Martin had seen him before. He had come in multiple times over the month to get coffee from the old machine in the library.

He liked to observe people. Based on what Martin had learn from watching him, he was a man who loved his work and hated to be away too long.

That is why he never spoke up about there being a perfectly good machine around the corner from his department.

Today was an accomplishment for him, though. He finally worked up the courage to talk to him and accidentally witnessed him dump coffee on his hand in the process. Martin's maternal instincts kicked in, and he took his hand.

He had only planned on chatting to him, not holding his hand, and staring him in the eyes! Oh, his eyes were beautiful. Martin had never looked him in the eyes before. He had seen him from behind with his sleek black hair, but wow!

Theeeen Martin realized what he was doing.

"Uh, don't worry about it, I'm fine."

He had stuttered before looking down at their hands together and took his away. This was Martin's chance to get the name of the man he had watched from afar for so long.

"Oh, I'm sorry, uh, can I help you with anything else, then, mister~?"

He looked back up at Martin.

"Jon- Jonathan Sims. And you are?"

Jonathan. His name was Jonathan.

"Oh, uh, my name is Martin, nice to meet you!"

This was a normal greeting between two strangers, yeah! He held out his hand to shake Jon's.

"Nice to meet you, too. I ought to be going back to work, though."

He says, shaking Martin's hand quickly and then sprinting out the door. Martin must have messed up. Why else would he have run away?

"Martin, can you take these files to the archives?"

The head librarian said, walking out of the aisles. He snapped out of it and took the files from the old, shaky woman.

'To the archives, I guess.'

He mutters to himself as he carries the files down the hall.

Chapter Text

Martin woke up to the sound of a boat horn blaring. The sun was shining through the trees, and his back hurt. Where was he?

Where was Jon?

His eyes snapped open. The memory of the void rushed through him.

He had let go.

Looking around, he found he was on a bench in a small green area overlooking a bridge.

Jon was gone.

A bridge looked too familiar. He whipped his head around. There it was, the reason he was in this mess in the first place. Fog began to creep in along his feet as he stood up, facing the building.

The Magnus Institute.

. . .

It had been maybe a week since Jon had gone to get coffee. He was going through withdrawal, but he did not want to embarrass himself any further in front of that librarian. He probably thought Jon was so childish. He was probably laughing about the poor guy from the Research Department who doesn't know how to use a coffee machine.

"Jon, are you alright?"

He looked up at Sasha, who had a little worry wrinkle forming on her brow. That's when he felt the splinters in his hand from the third pencil he had broken that morning.

"I think he's a little stressed out from all the work. I mean, look, he's getting gray hairs!"

Tim joked, taking strands of Jon's hair, like that rat from that one cooking movie, moving them around for Sasha to see.

She laughed as Jon swatted his hands away.

"I'm being serious, though, Jon, I think that you do need a break!" He repeated, leaning back and stretching in his chair, "We should all go get a drink later today."

Jon frowned. "There's no time for that Tim! We need to finish these."

"They pay us to be here till 5 pm. I refuse to work after that. That's my time," He argues.

There was no way Jon was getting out of this, especially with Sasha still looking at him with pity.

"Fine, I'll go with you guys, but only this once!"

They cheered, and Jon wished he had had more than 2 ibuprofen that morning.

. . .

Martin felt he was being watched. It wasn't uncommon, of course. It's just the large number of portraits felt overbearing today. It was as if they saw his every mistake and would follow him along the halls.

When he wasn't feeling scrutinised by paint, he would spend his free time watching the windows. Across the courtyard, he could see some of the other workers in the institute. They would be going about, talking, analysing, and socializing with one another.

Every once in a while, he would see Jon walking with his coworkers through the halls. Laughing at the jokes that they must be making.

Martin wondered why he never came back for the coffee. Maybe he found that other machine in the hall. It wasn't hard to overlook.

Or. Maybe he just got weirded out by Martin. Maybe he thought that Martin was so dumb to be worrying about a burn from coffee. Why would anyone worry about a simple burn from coffee that was barely hot?

Martin didn't even use the machine anyway. He only made the coffee because Jon would come to fill up his cup there. Since he stopped showing up, Martin started using it to hold his hot water.

He sipped on his Earl Grey as he looked out the library window some more. This time at the weather. It seemed there was a small shower that would be starting soon. Strangely, there was also a small bit of fog forming over the river as well. Hopeful it won't be too bad on the way home.

. . .

Him, Sasha, and Jon, who was stumbling behind, finally clocked out. It was time to go get blackout drunk and then go home and watch a bad romcom he wouldn't remember in the morning.

"Jon, which bar do you think that we should go to?"

Wrapping his arm around Jon's shoulders. Tim practically pulls him along to catch up with Sasha, who was the only one with the umbrella. Tim didn't mind the rain, it was only slightly sprinkling after all, but Sasha had just gotten her braids done and did not want them to frizz up too soon.

They were walking along the sidewalk as Tim bumped into someone standing to the side.

"Oh, sorry! My bad-," He said, turning around to apologise to the man he brushed past, except. There wasn't anyone there?

'Huh, maybe he turned a corner or something,' Tim reasoned, turning back to their small group to push Jon into a puddle forming in a dip in the sidewalk.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was still there. Watching.

Chapter Text

Tim, Jon, and what he could only believe was Sasha were all there, laughing and joking. Martin missed them. He would save them this time. Even if he was stuck here without Jon, he would make sure that they had better lives.

He marched into the Institute, wiping away his tears as he made his way towards the basement. He had gathered from a newspaper in the trash that it was around July 2014. If he was right, then Gerry was alive, and it was before Gertrude started researching The Unknown so deeply and ultimately also died.

He made his way down the stairs and into the Archives. Gerry was sitting at a desk, his feet propped up on it, taking a nap with files laid haphazardly over his face. Martin had heard of the emo assistant from Jon, but he had never gotten the chance to talk to him as he had.

He passed on towards Gertrude's office door and was about to knock before a voice called from inside.

"So help me, Lucas! I don't have time for your shit today!" She must have seen the fog drifting in under the door.

Martin opened the door anyway because he wasn't Peter Lucas; it didn't apply to him. Gertrude looked up, annoyed, before her face neutralized, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"And who are you?" She asked, closing her file to study him.

"My name is Martin Blackwood. I need your help."

"No, tell him I don't care, I'm not helping with any of his problems," She said, waving him off.

"I don't work for Peter Lucas Gertrude!" He yells back, a little aggravated. First, mistaken for Lucas and now for his assistant.

At this, she pauses, "What do you mean? You are a part of The Lonely, are you not?" She looks over her glasses.

"Yes, but I would rather die than be his employee!" Martin practically laughed, remembering the numerous times he had to help with Peter Lucas's tech issues.

"So what are you here for then, Mr. Blackwood?"

"Well... It might sound crazy, but I'm from the future and I need your help to stop the apocalypse from happening this time," He stated plainly.

"... and how far in the future does this happen?"

The crazy things this lady must have seen to not be fazed by that sentence.

"I became an assistant in 2015, and the world ends in 2018."

"So I die before then, don't I?" she comments, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, sometime in May, actually, after you almost kill him and the archives,"

"Ah ~ that makes more sense. I was wondering when he would finally reach the end of his rope." She stood up and walked over to the door. "Gerry! Wake up!" She continues swatting him with a folder.

Gerry snorts and sits up, the file falling off his face. "What do you want, you grumpy old woman?!"

He yelled after her before noticing Martin was there. He didn't say anything but gave him a glare as he followed after Gertrude.

The three of them went to the document storage room, where she grabbed a box off the shelf. The box was labeled in some scratchy handwriting that might have said something about islands, but Martin couldn't read it very well in the dim lights.

"Oh, Gerry, this is Martin, by the way. He's visiting from the future," She said, finally, after digging through the box a little bit.

"Oh really," Gerry replied sarcastically, "I'm not 12, Gertrude."

"And I'm not joking," She retorted before returning to her work.

Gerry turned back to Martin. "Prove it."

"Gerry, you should get checked for cancer as soon as possible," Martin stated, sitting down in a chair against the wall.

"Wait what."

"I found it," Gertrude interrupted, holding up a small box covered in cobwebs. "Someone left this for me a couple of months ago, I forgot about it till now."

Inside the box was a tape. A tape with a label that Martin could read. In big blocky letters, it said 'For when he arrives'. There was no doubt that it was meant for Martin, but who left it? Did Jon?

"I had listened to it once before, but it was all static. Perhaps you being here will change that." She said, taking a tape player from one of the tables and hitting play.

"Hello, I know this will reach you at a good time."

It was Annabelle Cane. Wow. He should have seen that coming.

"Congrats on surviving. The chances were great that you would. The Web got what it wanted, so maybe you will too. If you are in need of help with anything, I will be watching."

The tape ended as quickly as it began. Gertrude looks at him, expecting a response.

"That would definitely be for me," He sighed. Why won't she leave him alone?

. . .

"Ok, so let me get this straight." Gerry says sitting crisscross on a desk

"Your little boyfriend became The Archivist, and throughout his career, Elias gets him Marked by all the Fears and tricks him into reading a statement that ends the world."

"Yes."

"AND THEN you guys track Elias down and plan to kill him to get rid of the Fears from your world, but he didn't want to and killed Elias himself, ultimately replacing him."

"Yup."

"So you had to 'cut the Tether' and at that moment the tower was blown up by YOUR FRIENDS and you fell through a rift and ended up here!?"

"Yeah, that's about what happened," Martin shrugged. Now he just has to figure out where Jon may have ended up. The tape seemed to prove that he would end up in this world at some point, one way or another. He just has to be patient.

"You know what, I'm going home, maybe stopping by the hospital on the way. Don't think that I forgot about that cancer comment you made," Gerry said, getting off the desk and putting on his jacket.

Gertrude looked up from her computer as he closed the door. "Mr. Blackwood, do you have anywhere to stay while you're 'visiting'?"

"No, I just planned on sleeping in the break room on the couch," He smiled. Just like the good old days when his apartment got 'wormed'.

Gertrude frowned, "I'll find you some blankets tomorrow, but that will have to do for now. I'm also going to head home," She continued. Standing up and putting her computer in a bag that looked like it was meant for knitting. "Good night, Martin."

"Good Night."

Chapter Text

Sasha woke up in the best mood ever. However, she couldn't say the same for Tim, who had gotten very drunk and called her immediately, whining about his headache.

"I'm not gonna make it~" He fake sobbed into her ear as she made herself some breakfast.

"This is why we don't drink on weekdays," she shrugged as he cried some more. The toast popped out of the toaster, and she put it on a plate with fruit, vegan sausage, and some old mushrooms she needed to finish from a couple of days ago.

After getting ready, she went to meet Tim and they walked to the station together. He looked even more like a tourist today with his cheap red sunglasses. She had gotten him a pair as a gag gift for his birthday last year, but he still wore them. He claims that he only wears them out of convenience, but he takes care of them like they are a fancy sports car.

The two joined the crowd towards the tube and sat down together, discussing pop culture references. Lots of the people who get on this track take it to their jobs. So some are dressed in suits and some in sweaters and some in uniforms. It was a colder day because of the wind, but Tim is still wearing his flowery 'Hawaiian shirt'.

After a long time of waiting and chatting, they got off and walked the rest of the way towards the Institute. Sasha said hi to a couple of old friends from artifacts while Tim attempted to gather the gossip.

"So what's the latest, my favourite gossip gals?" He asked as the girls giggled.

"You didn't hear? Someone found a bloody weapon and tried to turn it into artifacts!" They gushed to him, "We had to give in to the police!"

"No!" He giggled with them.

"Yes! And there's a new guy in the Archives. I came in early with a box to bring down there, and he was sleeping on the couch." One said in a hushed tone.

"Ooooo~ I wonder who this sleeping beauty is~" Tim added as Jon came over with a cup of coffee, grabbing Tim by the collar and dragging him to his desk.

"Noooooooo I want to hear about the new guuuuuy" She heard him cry in the distance as Jon reprimanded him about work.

. . .

Martin was tired of being cooped up in the Archives, but he wasn't going to face Jonah. He knew that Jonah was aware of him. He could feel his Eyes looking at him every time he moved about the basement. There was no point in avoiding it, but he was just tired of all the constant problems.

After his third cuppa, thanks to the tea Gertrude brought with her that morning, he gathered up as much energy as he could and made his way up the stairs. He hoped to avoid anyone, but was not going to put in any effort to cloak himself.

He made it to the lobby before the problems started.

. . .

Martin was not a small man, but he was also not the tallest person in his work either. After all, he definitely stood out. He mostly kept to himself and could have been compared to a local Bigfoot, rarely seen and disappeared again before you could get a good look.

Martin only left the library for a couple of things.

1. To go home
2. To get lunch
3. and to get packages of books

That was how he found himself running into Jon with a box of old books.

And not the 'meet cute' way but the 'I MIGHT HAVE BROKEN HIS FACE AHHHHHHHHH' kind of way.

"OH MY LORD I'M SO SORRY!" Martin said, scrabbling to put the box down and helping Jon back to his feet. His glasses were a little lopsided, so he tried to put them back on correctly. His face was in a slight daze as he looked past Martin.

"YOU'RE FINE, RIGHT? HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?" He says, holding up two fingers.

"Who's that guy?" He says, pointing passed Martin.

"What? That's not the question-" he turned around, and there standing at the top of the stairs was a man who looked almost exactly like Martin. Except he had faded red hair, a full beard, and a pale, distraught face. Looking at him? 'Dad?'

. . .

Martin was fine the first time he had seen Jon on the sidewalk, but something about seeing himself, too, made it feel all real. The scene from the Panopticon began playing over and over. The feel of the knife in his hand, the sound of Jon's screams-

"Sir? Are you ok?"

"huh?" Martin steeled himself. Now was not the time to freak out; he could do that later in the privacy of a bathroom.

"Can I help you with anything? Uh, what's your name?" His little mini-me asked with a meek smile. Little Jon still stood there looking disoriented.

"Uh, no- sorry, I just thought I saw something, my name? David-, David Rodgers?" The name was ironically from a statement in the archives about a guy who didn't know what food poisoning was and thought he had a demon in his stomach.

Mini Martin smiled a bit brighter and shook his outstretched hand.

"I understand how overwhelming the first couple of days working here can be." He assured Martin as Jon stumbled over as well.

'What? He didn't work here?' What was he talking about?

"You are the new guy in the Archives, correct? Oh.

Jon asked, still seeming out of it, but better.

"Oh yes, I just started," He smiled. Jon was ever the investigator. Hopefully, he doesn't figure it out any time soon.

Before anyone could ask another question. Tim and Sasha appeared. They seemed to be holding files, but when they spotted Jon, they came over here as well.

"Hey Jonny, who are these guys?" Tim asked casually, leaning on Jon, almost knocking them both over.

"Oh, this is David, he is the new hire, and this is Martin, I believe he works in the library," Jon said, gesturing to the two of them.

Tim looked very closely between him and Martin before stating, "Are you guys related?"

Before mini Martin could get a word in, Martin chimed, "Not every red head you meet is related, you know!" This shut Tim up immediately, but Martin felt a little bad for snapping at him.

"But I think we might be in this case, I remember having a distant relative with that last name." 'Yeah, himself.' He hoped that would seem reasonable. Now he would just have to inform Gertrude of the name change.

"Oh, hello Mr. Rodgers, I've been looking all for you." He heard a cold voice from behind say. "Please come with me, we have things to discuss in my office."

Right there before Martin was Elias Bouchard. In other words, the very man he was looking to confront.

Chapter Text

"So, David was it?" Elias said, opening his office door and guiding Martin in. "Why do I feel like you don't like me very much?"

He continued looking at Martin as he sat at his desk.

Martin huffed a sigh, "Oh, I don't know? Maybe because you are a horrible prick?" He answered sarcastically.

Elias was no longer looking at Martin, but Looking at him. "Do you really think I don't already know that?" he smiled.

"You Know a lot of things, Jonah, but I know things as well, and let me tell you it's not looking good for you." He said, leaning in close,r and smiled back. Martin really wished this asshole was dead.

"You really think you can kill me? Martin Blackwood?" Elias said, confirming that he heard his little comment.

"You've been killed before, can't be too hard."

His smile faltered for a second before he changed the subject.

"Well then, let's discuss the terms of your employment." He said, opening a filing cabinet. "It seems that you've already worked here before, so I just have you sign this," he laid a paper out in front of Martin.

He read through it for a second before pushing it back at him. "And what if I don't?"

"Well then, it's only fair that I 'Fire' a couple of employees." He said his eyes glinting in the light.

"Fine, but if you even so much as look at them too much, I will blow up this entire building with you in it."

"Deal."

. . .

Jon felt bad for running into Martin. He should have been looking where he was going, but without his morning coffee, he had felt more tired than ever.

That's why he found himself helping him carry boxes to the library. Jon had told Martin that there were too many books in the box he was carrying and that it was blocking his view. He then took out some of them and got his own box to put them in.

He would be back working, but Tim and Sasha said they would take over the workload while he was gone. They looked very suspicious saying it. Jon was sure that they were planing something.

"How have you been?" Jon looked up from his box at Martin, who was smiling a little. "You haven't been back to get coffee in a while."

Of course, he remembered the accident. He was probably hoping Jon would come back, make some more clumsy mistakes, and be a form of entertainment to the sick bastard.

"I've been trying to quit." He said hastily.

Martin looked disappointed in his answer?

"Oh. Well, it's been a bit lonely there without your visits." He almost whispered.

Jon felt he had just been shot. That was not the kind of response he was expecting from him. He was supposed to make a joke about Jon and laugh at him or ignore him or something!

"Well, I have been feeling tired lately, maybe I'll get a cuppa," He blurted out, lowering his head. He felt a little bad about the assumptions he made. He looked back up at Martin, who wasn't anymore to hide his grin.

"If you're worried about it being unhealthy, I could also make you some tea?" He added, "We have a couple of caffeinated brands. What do you like?"

Jon was not about to tell him that he didn't like tea. No matter how many times he had made it, it never tasted any good. "I like Black Tea." 'WHY. He hated Black Tea.'

When they finally got to the library and set the boxes down, Martin walked off to find two mugs and tea. It was only a few minutes before he was back with the tea. Jon was busying him self putting some of the books onto a cart when Martin handed him his cup.

"I didn't know what you usually put in it, so I just added some milk and a little sugar." He stated, taking up his own cup and drinking from it.

Jon thanked him and raised the mug to his mouth to take a sip. He felt calmed by the scent but was afraid of how it would taste.

The taste wasn't bitter! In fact, it tasted almost perfect. No wonder people like tea so much! There was an earthy taste to it that made it so much better than the crap he made.

"This is the best tea I've ever had!" He accidentally blurted out. His and Martin's faces both turned pink.

"I'm glad you like it, Jon. I'll make sure that we have more of it when you visit next." He said, pushing the cart away to the back to sort the books. That was when Jon realized that he had been away from his work for half an hour.

. . .

Tim and Sasha knew immediately when they saw how Jon was stuttering and lecturing him on how he needs to be carrying less so he doesn't hurt himself. They had never seen Jon's face go so pink, and from the looks of it, it was the same situation for the other man. Even if he didn't admit it they knew exactly what was going on.

Tim even put up with doing Jon's work so that he could help the library guy. They were like proud parents knowing their 'son' was being more social with his coworkers.

With all the excitement of the day, they had almost forgotten about the new guy. Which was much more interesting than Jon's love life. He looked very scared and out of his comfort zone. Tim and Sasha then decided that they were going to make him their friend. Just like they did with Jon, and look how good that turned out! It only took a little bit of persuasion to befriend him. That and never leaving him alone.

David was just going to have to get used to being around them.

Chapter Text

Martin woke up gasping for air.

He must have had a nightmare, but the more he thought about it, the less he could remember. All he knew was that it left this twisting feeling of dread. He wouldn't dwell on it, though, and got up to get some tea. He walked over to the cabinet and reached for a mug. He moved in a sleepy daze, looking for his favourite before remembering it wasn't here yet.

He supposed that if he missed that cup enough, he could probably break into his old flat and get it. He wasn't going to attempt that today, so he walked to the bathroom.

He turned on the sink and splashed his face a couple of times. Over the last year, he had neglected his health and hygiene. Martin ran his fingers through his beard. He needed to get a trim.

His mother had never liked him with facial hair. He remembered her yelling every time he came to visit and forgot to shave. She always said he looked more like his father with a beard. Back then- well, now, he would have been more hurt by that kind of comment, but he doesn't care if he looks like his father. He's probably dead anyways.

Martin sauntered up the stairs. He would head to the store and get a razor. He had negotiated a 'sign-on bonus' with Jonah due to the fact that he had no money or bank accounts in this world. It gave him just enough that he should be able to afford a small apartment and some necessities.

As he reached the ground floor and looked out one of the street-facing windows. He hoped the weather would be nice since his only sweater was too gross to wear that day. Instead of the weather something else caught his eye.

He rounded the corner and was going to look out the front doors for a better look, but he was stopped. There at the front desk were two familiar police officers. Daisy seemed to have sensed him because her eyes locked on him even before he entered the room. Basira paid her partner no mind as she continued to talk to the secretary.

This Daisy was very bad about self-control, and it was obvious in the way her lip curled in disgust. He knew that she hated Avatars, but never thought that that would include him!

He turned around, pretending he hadn't just made eye contact with her before quickly making his way down a hall that he half-hoped led to an alleyway. That's when he heard her footsteps following him and started panicking a little bit.

"Hey, you there! Stop!" She called out. Martin didn't have a choice anyway. Daisy was still a police officer and could use his 'escaping' to her advantage if need be.

"Oh hey there~, how can I help you today, officer?" He said, turning around with a forced smile.

"You work here, don't you?" She asked a seemingly rhetorical question. "How many more Avatars work here?" She poked him in the shoulder, cornering him against the wall.

"What? What's an Avatar? I've never heard that term before ha hah ha-" He responded laughing nervously.

"Don't lie to me! I've met your kind before, I can tell," she half whispered, half yelled, her hand resting on her gun holster.

"I'm sorry! I'm not Evil, I swear, just please don't kill me Daisy!" He whispered back at her, covering his face with his arms.

She stalled for a second. "I never told you my name."

Her nametag on her uniform said 'Tonner'. She was right, how is he supposed to tell her he knew her 'in a past life' without sounding absolutely insane?

"Uh, well, I- It came up in a statement." He uses statements too much as an excuse. He will be caught for it eventually if he keeps doing this.

She grumbled, stepping back a bit from him, "You Eye weirdos and invasion of privacy, jeez."

He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe now he could just be left alone.

"Daisy, what are you doing over here?"

Basira asked. Nope, Martin wasn't going to get any peace today.

"I was uh- interrogating a suspicious man." She said as Basira raised her eyebrow.

"You mean you harassed this helpless man?"

"He's not-" "I'm not-" They both said in unison

Basira shooed them both. "Daisy, he looks like he couldn't hurt a fly even if he tried."

Martin felt insulted. He was dangerous! He could hurt people if he wanted to. Then he changed his mind because it was probably a good thing to be deemed harmless by two police officers with weapons.

"We have work to do. I already got the intel I needed about the weird knife."

A knife? Martin looked up at Basira, who had an Evidence bag with a bloody knife in it.

His knife.

His face paled. "Where did you find that?" He said, reaching out and holding the wall for stability.

"That's confidential, I shouldn't have shown you it anyway. Are you ok?" Basira sounded concerned.

Daisy, on the other hand, was not concerned with Martin's well-being. "Why do you want to know where the knife was found?"

"I-uh, never mind, it's not important, I was just curious," he said, trying to divert the conversation. "I thought that it may be 'supernatural' and would make a good statement?"

Daisy rolled her eyes. She definitely believed that was his reason. He was weird-looking enough to pull it off.

"Well, if anything turns up 'spooky' we'll let you know," Basira said, taking Daisy's arm and leading her back down the hallway.

He avoided death by a policewoman and was going to take the small victory. He brushed himself off and made his way towards the alley. Martin still needed to buy a razor.

Chapter Text

Gertrude was only half-listening to Martin's story about how the world ended, specifically the part where he said his boyfriend caused it.

She understood that if things were to go differently this time, she would have to prevent her death, but also maybe cause another one.

"Gertrude, do you really think that by killing this random guy you will be helping in stopping the apocalypse." Jurgen asked sitting across from her in the tunnels.

"Jurgen, you don't understand. This man would be replacing me, and our current plan would become obsolete." She said, typing away at her computer. Probably searching for more black market explosives. "As long as I stay alive everything is fine, but he will be quite the hindrence if not."

"And what could you even do when you get murdered and this stranger takes your place?"
He asked, "Get him from beyond the grave?!"

She shrugged, "Well, that's a probable backup plan."

He just stared at her. He was judging very harshly. "And what exactly is this a backup to?"

"Oh, well, that's why I came to talk to you. I know that you have a couple of books at your disposal and was hoping you could lend me one, as a favor."

Gertrude had always been a blunt woman. That is why she never got along well with virtually anyone in her life. That is except for Jurgen who, for the most part, didn't have any choice because he was stuck living in the tunnels. She brought him food and information so it's only fair she asks for some help in return.

It had been a while since she had asked for anything of that nature, so it shouldn't be too much of a hassle for him.

Jurgen sighed, "Fine, who is this guy anyway?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?!" She was most likely the reason he had a full head of gray hair.

"I still have to figure out who he is. The only information I have is that he was our little visitor's boyfriend. Now I don't know much about his type, so it doesn't narrow it down at all. I don't even know if he works here yet."

Jurgen massaged his wrinkly forehead, "Okay well then I'm going to go get a drink please don't come back till you actually know who we're killing for no reason." He got up and walked away. The walls shifting behind him as he disappeared. Gertrude frowned and went back to her computer. She gave it a week before she would find who he is.

...

Jon could not work in peace. Everyday he came in he would sit down and Tim and Sasha would give him this creepy grin. Either that or he walked past David who side eyed him every time they were in the same room. Like at any moment Jon was going to jump him or something.

The only bright side of his day was when he wandered down to the library and found a fresh cup of tea waiting. He wasn't sure how Martin knew when he was coming, but it was always steaming when he arrived.

Some days he would be too busy to talk, but other days they would chat for a little before Jon got dragged back to his department.

It was an easy routine. One that also made Jon feel a bit queasy inside. Every time he saw Martin in the halls outside the library, his face would feel warm. This got so common to the point that he thought he was getting sick or something.

He was afraid that Martin was somehow slowly poisoning him through the tea, and this weird feeling was his reaction to it. He tried to tell Georgie about it, because surely the podcaster would know something about unflavoured poisons, and she just laughed at him.

On top of that, he also hadn't been sleeping well, every time he fell asleep he felt like something was watching him. When he would open his eyes his small apartment still looked the same. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was someone there.

Jon typed away at his computer. Tim and Sasha are snickering at a meme on one of their phones.

"Hey Jon, what do you think of hanging out again this weekend?" Sasha asked, setting down the phone.

"Is it going to involve getting drunk again?" He returned, frowning but not looking up from his screen.

"No, well unless Tim sneaks in something," she laughed, "I was thinking a small office party , you, me, Tim, some people from over in filing, that guy from the library, maybe the new guy too."

Jon finally looked up from his computer. "You are inviting Martin?" The two clowns gave each other another secret look before smiling at Jon again. He was getting tired of it.

"Are you going or not?" Tim grilled him, holding his pen right in front of Jon's nose.

"Fine I'll think about it." He said. Maybe it won't be so bad. He doubted it though because Tim was most likely going to drag him to talk to everyone at that party.

...

Gerry was not happy with his doctor. He went in there mostly as a joke to prove that the guy in the archives was some crazy man, but unfortunately, he was right.

He had a brain tumor. Just the makings of it at least. His doctor told him that if he hadn't been in, he might have died from it. She got him scheduled for surgery in a couple of weeks, and he would just tough it out till then.

He sat at the station, waiting for the next train, thinking about this new information, when his podcast ended. He took his cracked phone out and turned it on. He managed to forget that he was listening to it the whole time, with all his worrying. He decided to just leave it. He had already listened to it a couple times and the host wasn't coming out with anything new anytime soon.

This was when someone sat down beside him. He glanced over at her for a second before scrolling down his list of episodes.

"Dammit," Gerry muttered his phone glitching out for a second.

"Phone troubles?" The woman next to him asked smiling a bit waving her own phone that had the dead signal on it.

"Yeah nah, it's just I ran out of things to listen to." He responded politely. She seemed nice enough.

"Oh, that's too bad. What do you listen to?"

"Just random true crime or horror kind of things," He wasn't going to tell her why he was listening to them. Gerry didn't think that would scare her away though based on the fact she still approached him in his spiky leather jacket, crazy piercings, and tattoos.

"That's crazy! I actually produce a podcast about the paranormal!" She laughed.

"Wait, really? That's cool, what's the name? I'll check it out?" He needed something new to listen to.

"It's called What The Ghost, you can also find it by searching up Georgie Barker, which is my name, what's yours?" She told him, holding out her hand for him to shake. He took her hand, and they both smiled.

"My name's Gerard, but you can call me Gerry."

"Nice to meet you Gerry!"

Chapter Text

'David' had been invited to a party. Martin was not happy about it. He had planned on going clothes shopping that day and wasn't about to tell Sasha he couldn't go. A part of him still wanted to be around his dead friends. The friends that he had never gotten the true chance to bond with.

She is also just very manipulative and wouldn't let him leave the printer room until he said yes. It was only Tuesday, so he didn't have to think about it for a couple of days at least. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Jonah had given him a card to a real estate company that was going to help him find a cheap flat. Well, he left it on the floor in front of the archives? He could tell it was probably Jonah anyway, with the scrawled cursive on the back.

Jonah also had probably gotten tired of Martin constantly bullying him by flipping off every portrait and eye-shaped thing he could find. (This did include Gerry's tattoos when he wasn't looking)

Martin had been sleeping on the couch in the break room for about a week and a half at this point and had grown very comfortable with it, but Gertrude also comes in very early and is extremely loud.

She would be talking to herself about pits and books, and he had even once heard her asking herself how much acid was needed to get rid of a how skeleton. To say the least, he was a little spooked by her. She had also been asking him very odd and specific questions. Such as where he usually goes out to drink or who he is friends with. Dependent on his response, she would scribble something down and return to her office to type some more.

Martin frowned. He had arrived at the address on the card, but it seemed to be a little blue building. The building seemed very cheery in contrast to the grays of the others surrounding it. On the door window was a piece of paper stating the hours and local sales. Martin felt hesitant to enter, but he couldn't place the feeling. He felt like a hand was drawing him into the place like it was wanting him to enter, to see what lay inside.

He decided it was just some nerves and opened the door. As the door opened, a little bell chimed, and some people came into view.

"Oh, well, just let me know what you guys decide on and we can get the paperwork all filled out!"

This smily redhead woman then shook the couple's hands that she was talking to and turned to Martin.

"Why hello there! You must be David?" She asked, reaching out to shake his hand as well.

He nodded and took her hand, a little confused because he had not called ahead or scheduled any appointment with anyone.

"Okay, if you'll sit right here, my partner will be out to discuss things with you," She finished and wandered off to the back, leaving him in the waiting room. Martin wondered who let them know that he was coming before it clicked.

Jonah was not the kind of person to leave a card at your door. This must be the 'help' Annabelle was talking about when she said she'd be watching him. He was slightly surprised that he had figured it out so quickly. Usually, she makes sure you can't see her influence. He smiled. Maybe he was just getting better at spotting it.

That was when Helen herself walked out from the back, smiling as well.

Oh, well, that's why. She just wanted to remind him she's still in control of every decision he makes and person he meets. It felt a little invasive. It was also a little unsettling seeing her without the numerous optical allusions that occurred when staring at the spiral avatar. Annabelle was just set on making him visit everyone wasn't she.

"Hi there, David! Nice to meet you, my name is Helen. I heard that you are looking for a new flat today." She asked, smiling.

"Oh yeah-yes I am!" Martin had almost forgotten she worked in real estate before she got 'Eaten'.

She gestured for him to enter her office and sit down in the chair across from him. Martin couldn't help but fidget as she happily hummed to herself, shuffling files and pulling out some.

"Ok so these are some that I thought you would enjoy," She said laying three different forms out in front of him, "This first one is the cheapest out of the three and only has about 1 1/2 rooms with a kitchenette and a tub in the bathroom, the second is a bit more expensive but has a full kitchen area, all though it is a studio flat."

Martin looked at the first two options as she talked about their pros and cons. The layouts of each weren't too bad, but he would also have to think about whether Jon would like them too when he eventually gets here.

"This is the third one and probably my favorite out of all of them. It has a smaller kitchen with a peninsula island, which is so cute in person! Oh! And the bedroom is separate from the rest of the layout."

Martin studied the third one along with the other two options. It definitely was the best of the three. It also reminded him a bit of the safe house.

"You're right, the third one is really great. How soon can we tour it?" He hoped nothing was wrong with the actual flat. Martin had almost signed a lease on a flat that had black mold in the bathroom when he first started renting.

"We should be able to tour today if you don't have any other plans!"

"Oh really? So soon- are the owners okay with tours on such short notice?" He said a little worried for whoever this poor soul was that had to clean quickly before they arrived.

"About that," She said, her smile fading a bit in the corners, "There's no rush, the owner is, uh, dead as of yesterday."

Chapter Text

“What?”
“It sounds bad, but don’t worry he didn’t die IN the flat, just outside the building,” Helen clarified as if that made the statement any less suspicious.

“According to what the police told me, he may have jumped?”

Martin was done with death and the supernatural at this point. “Oh ok so long it’s outside I don’t really care,” he put bluntly. “I’m free right now so a tour would be great.”

Helen’s smile returned and she got up from her desk. “Alright then I’ll give you the rest of the paperwork and we’ll head right over there,” She looked a little too happy that he was considering the flat. It was probably because someone had died there and that put people some people on edge. He didn’t really care enough, he had witnessed worse things than death in his world.

…

She had driven the both of them to the address and hadn’t stopped smiling since they got in the car. Martin had put two and two together and finally realized she was not in fact a bubbly happy person, but a damn good saleswoman.

The two stood in front of the building looking up at the old thing. It was the kind of old that either was falling apart or had infestations of some kind. Martin hoped it was the first one. They climbed the stairs and found the door. The sign said flat 2 and had a little mail slot underneath it. He opened the door and immediately saw the horrid beige-white brick walls. Martin was not very skilled at home decor but he knew that was an ugly color. Especially when layered over brick as old as this. It almost made him sad that someone thought this looked good.

Helen must have caught this look because she laughed and reassured him that he could get rid of the paint with some remover if he hated it that much. They carried on with the rest of the tour and Martin did his usual renter inspections of the rooms. Besides the one issue, everything else seemed to be in decent condition. Nothing is ever perfect, there were a few things that might become issues in a few years, but besides those, it was a good deal. Helen looked overjoyed when he told her that he would take it.

“I’ll get the papers together and we’ll see about getting you in in a week!” She said getting back in her car. “That will be great see you in a week,” Martin thanked her and started walking down the street. He heard there was a good Baltic restaurant a couple blocks down maybe he could get something to eat before heading back.

…

Jon was fast asleep at his desk. Not a very professional move, but he was serious about getting his report done early. Jon always puts 150% effort into his work. He’s been this way since he was a child and old habits die hard.

His glasses had fallen off his face so when someone started shaking him awake he was very confused.

“Jon! Wake up did you fall asleep at work again?” Jon looked up slowly blinking at the blurry figure. It sounded like Martin and he looked like Martin so he must be Martin. Jon’s heart fluttered a little in his sleep-deprecated state as he smiled at ‘Martin’. “Hi Mahtin,” he yawned, “What are you doing here?”

“Yeaaah Martin, Jon you need to go home it’s almost midnight and you look dead!” He said practically lifting Jon out of his chair and grabbing his jacket for him. He was always so friendly and polite. Finally, he put Jon’s glasses back on his face.

That’s when Jon noticed his facial hair. “Heyyy, when did you grow a beard Mahtin?” Martin rolled his eyes and muttered something about him acting like a drunk when he’s tired.

He gently pulled Jon along towards the door. “Jon, do you remember how to get home?” He asked both hands resting on Jon’s shoulders.

“But I need to finish the reporrrrt” He whined not answering as Martin huffed a sigh and a small laugh. “I take carry of it but you need to get home you don’t live very far away so I’m sure you’ll be fine, but be careful!” Martin opened the door and he stumbled out into the street.

He started walking the usual route and as the cold night air began seeping into his skin he started waking up from his sleep. Jon was a little concerned about gaining consciousness in the middle of the sidewalk, but could remember fragments of the recent conversation. So someone must have helped him out. All though he could not remember who he was talking to? Who put his glasses and jacket on him?

He brushed it aside. Those were questions for an awake man. It was probably just a night caretaker anyway.

…

It was Thursday morning. The day before the office party Sasha had her perfect list all put together. She was having fun messing with Jon and his little library friend Martin. She couldn’t wait to see how the two would do in a more lively, social environment. She also couldn’t wait to force David into conversations as well. From what she has observed he may get along well with Tim and her since they are more outgoing people.

He also may do well with a girl from accounts. She is very quiet as well and it required a bit of luck to get her to come in the first place.

She looked up from her notebook at the flower shop across the street. It was early so she got to watch them open up shop and set out all the pretty flower pots. Last Spring she invited Tim and Jon over and they took bets on which of the pots would have the first bud. She was around them enough to know that the pot farthest from the entrance was always the first one due to its position under the awing and how much sun it got. She made a few bucks off the guys that way.

Sasha rubbed her hands together in a silly evil way. Tomorrow is going to be better than any reality TV show. She gets to watch a bunch of introverts try and talk to each other. It's going to be so much fun.

Chapter Text

Martin wasn’t thrilled about writing a report at 3 in the morning, but he promised a sleepy Jon it would be done and who could say no to that sad face! His skills he had learned from years of working as Jon’s assistant would come in handy. He knows exactly how Jon likes his stuff organized and it has almost become second nature to fix things to his liking.

He finished the report around 5am and turned off the above lights and the one on the desk before wandering over to his ‘bed’. As he blindly grabbed at the blanket at his feet the light was flicked back on.

Martin shrieked a little as Gertrude walked in jingling a pair of keys to the building. She turned to look at him for a second as he sat back up on the couch.

“Up early are we?” She said sarcastically digging through her bag.

Martin adjusted his glasses, “I wish but no I just went to bed.” He said frowning. Gertrude’s wrinkly face got even wrinkler, “what were you up doing all night?”

Martin gestured over to his desk and the papers sitting on it. Gertrude walked over and picked them up. “I didn’t assign any of this?” She said flipping through it. “I know I was talking to a- a friend and told him I would get it finished for him.” Martin clarified.

Martin closed his eyes again leaning on the back of the couch missing Gertrude’s reaction to the information. “Oh really? He’s that important to you?”

Martin smiled a bit. “Yeah. He is.” This Jon might not be his, but he has his own different Martin who loves him and by extension Martin will take care of him the best he can.

Gertrude put the papers back down on the desk before turning and walking back to her office. As she entered her office she turned off the overhead light. “Good night then David sleep well.”

…

After about an hour she heard him start snoring. Getting up Gertrude closed her laptop and stuck it in her bag. She opened the door quietly and slipped out into the hall. She made her way past Martin/David’s desk and to the concealed entrance. All she needed was a name and now she could narrow down her list.

In the tunnels her echoing footsteps could be heard bouncing off the walls as she made her way through. The walls slowly shifted the concrete hallway until the path ended at a small desk where Leitner sat reading a book.

“Is you’re little scavenger hunt going well Gertrude?” He chuckled standing up and shutting his book, “At least I assume that’s what you came down here to update me on?”

“I’ve gotten a bit more information so yes it is definitely going somewhere,” she stated taking her laptop back out and setting it on the new desk. “I now can confirm that he currently works here and deals with writing up reports.”

She opened up spreadsheets to her list of suspects. Categorized by department there were about 63 possible suspects. She had a list of most likely people and least likely. Traits that fit the least likely criteria included things like old age, general attractiveness, and personality. She had to rely on gossip from nearby workers to get this far.

At the top of the most likely suspects list was a Tim Stoker. He is talked about very often by the girls in the canteen and always in a good light. Looking him up online he seems very nice as well and has good hobbies, like kayaking.

In almost ironic direct opposition to his friend, on the least likely list, Jonathan Sims. Every word about him is how he is so antisocial and how almost no one knows anything about him. He doesn’t fit the type that Martin seems to have. Looking him up online almost nothing comes up except a small college band that is probably unrelated.

The rest fell into a third unnamed category. Gertrude sorted through her lists. She removed all the storage, administrative, and financial departments. Only two departments are responsible for writing these types of reports. Some of the library staff and the research departments. The list is still long but Gertrude managed to narrow it down to about 21.

The only way she had a chance of getting anymore information at this point was to get closer to the younger Martin. She had noticed him maybe once or twice before, but hadn’t thought about how he could help with this investigation.

She would find this man. He had the power to bring about the apocalypse and she would not let him cause it again. No matter what she needed to do to make it happen. He was the key to it all and that key can not fall into the wrong hands.

…

Martin had woken up from his ‘nap’. It seemed that the cold hearted woman wasn’t as mean as she appeared since she had left all the lights off so he could sleep. He got up and fumbled around until he found the light switch. Turning it on he got ready for the day.

The day Martin went to the store to buy a razor he had picked up a few clothes. Just so that he wasn’t wearing the exact same thing over and over. He bought 2 dress shirts, a new sweater, as well as some pants and other things.

It was a bit cold in the basement that morning so Martin put on the new sweater. It reminded him of one of his old sweaters but this one had a bit more green in the pattern. He walked back to his desk and picked up his report from last night.

He doubted Jon knew who actually helped him, but Martin could use this to his advantage. When Martin arrived it must have caused a domino effect to occur. How else would Jon and this Martin have met long before him and his Jon ever did and it’s another miracle entirely that they get along. Martin decided he would give mini-Martin a helping hand. 

Chapter Text

Jon woke up around 5:00 to his alarm on his nightstand. He lazily got ready, fixing his tie and sweater. He left his flat, locking the door behind him and walking down the flight of stairs to the sidewalk. He would usually take his bike, but it got a flat tire a week ago and he never got around to fixing it. He was making good time and there were hardly any cars to wait for and he could travel easily. Jon felt relieved that today was going smoothly and since it’s a Friday all he had to do was finish today’s tasks and he would be good for the weekend. He paused.

His report. He never finished it and he promised it would be done this morning. On top of that he has to go to Sasha’s event this evening. Jon’s mood dropped significantly. He hurried a little faster as he made the final stretch to work.

…

Jon sat down at his desk and set his bag down. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He was just going to have to work quickly. He finally looked down at his desk and noticed a folder sitting on it. He opened the folder.

Inside was a sticky note with a small smiley face and a short message. ‘Hope this helps! -Martin’. Martin? He looked at the papers in the folder and recognized his own handwriting. It was the report he had started yesterday. He took it out and turned to the next page. Where he had stopped writing new words filled the page.

Jon realized Martin must have been the one to take his work last night and he managed to finish it for him. Which also means he witnessed Jon’s most embarrassing state. Jon scowled, he only hoped that this paper wouldn’t be too much to fix.
Surely a librarian had some skill in researching things, but there was no way he was used to how things work in Research. “I’ll just have to revise it to my liking,” Jon decided as he grabbed his pen and started reading through it.

He managed to finish the whole thing without a single correction. It was exactly how he would have written it if he had had the time. He leaned back in his chair. “I guess he knows more than I thought he did,” he whispered to the empty office. Jon would have to thank him later when he got to work. It was the polite thing to do. He was a little peeved that Martin was able to finish it so much faster than he did.
Jon turned on his computer. Now all he had to do was type it up before everyone else arrived.

…

Martin slept in. He didn’t mean to, but his alarm clock was off when he woke up. When he shoved the nightstand away from the wall it seemed to have wiggled out of the socket. He also found a little spider trying to build a web back there so he grabbed a cup and set it out on his fire escape. This also made him more late. He had showered the night before so luckily he just had to throw on his clothes and some basic hygiene stuff before running out the door.

He was a little sad that he wouldn’t get to eat his egg sandwich for breakfast, but he could probably get something to eat later from the canteen.
He got to the station and thankfully he was on time enough not to miss it. He could still make it to work on time. Martin took an open seat and hugged his bag. The doors closed and they were off through the underground. He checked his watch and sure enough it was 7:15. He gave a sigh of relief and sank into the bench. He would make it right on time. He closed his eyes and started thinking about what he was going to wear to the party when he heard people whispering.

He opened his eyes and it was dark. The crowd around him seemed to also be slightly confused as the lights came back on. “It was probably just a little shortage?” He heard a woman say to her companion.
Martin was going to go back to daydreaming before he noticed the person sitting across from him. Martin looked and almost shouted. He was slumped to the side and with his age he looked very dead, but that wasn’t the bad part. The worst part was that his eyes were entirely gone and black tears ran down his face.

Martin felt like he was going to throw up. It looked as if his eyes had liquified and spilled out his sockets. He felt even worse when he saw the man slowly move. He lifted his head up and turned to look at Martin with his empty cavities. “D̵o̴n̸’̵t̶.̶ ̶t̵r̴u̷s̷t̵.̵ ̵t̷h̴e̵.̸ ̸m̸i̵r̶r̴o̵r̷.̷ ̸h̷e̷.̸ ̵l̸i̸e̸s̶.” he said, his voice strangely scratchy almost like a radio when you are almost out of range of a station.

Martin let out a scream as he fell forward. He looked up and the man was gone. The crowd around him was staring and he got up. He got back in his seat feeling embarrassed and scared. What was that? Was it even real? Before he could think about it more the doors opened again. They were at his stop. That’s strange we only just left. He looked down at his watch and it said 7:45.

He tried to brush it off. Just another nightmare. It was probably nothing to worry about. He just fell asleep. He got off and pushed through the crowd to the street where he continued his journey to work. Martin was in such a hurry to get off in fact, he didn’t even stop to question the warning he was given. He just kept running his bag hitting against him all the way to the steps. At least he made it on time.