Chapter Text
Danny shifted, his smile finally, finally dropping into a more natural expression. And then into a frown.
“I already said. I wanted to see how you were doing.” for all of his faults, Tim prided himself on being able to tell when someone was lying. In response he simply lifted an eyebrow. This seemed to be the breaking point for Danny, and Tim could see his shoulders fall.
“Look, I’m going behind the Circus’s back just coming to London at all. Ms. Orsinov’s been getting in a mood, she’s not happy her Archivist is missing,” he said. As he spoke, Danny occasionally glanced over Tim’s shoulder to the door, as though he was watching for someone catching him.
“ And that led to you coming here, how? ” Tim tried to keep his long pent-up frustration in check. Trying to get any actual information from the Stranger was like trying to get a peaceful solution from the Slaughter.
“I've… gotten on Ms. Orsinov’s bad side recently…” Danny started. “I thought that if I could get any information or something else helpful it may help my standing in the Circus.” Danny blinked, then looked at Tim with a sly grin. “Seems you’ve fallen more to the Eye than I thought.”
Tim was taken aback, having not noticed the pull his words were having. It shouldn't have been a surprise, he had joined the Magnus Institute with full knowledge of what it was, and had immersed himself in it. For a solid minute or so, Tim and Danny settled into silence, each sipping on their tea.
“ Why did Nikola want to, erm, skin Jon?” Tim asked cautiously. He was now actively watching his inflection.
“You know, I’m not exactly sure. Something something Archivist something something symbolic, ya hear me? Honestly if you ask me Ms. Orsinov made it personal on purpose.” Danny had now finished his own tea and was watching Tim with a calculated expression.
“What do you mean made it personal ?” Tim scowled.
“My my, you do ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Danny set his cup on the table. “Turns out the Archivist knew her voicebox’s original owner, some musician friend. Jade, or Julia, something with a J. Jessica perhaps?” Tim nodded dully, he had never really thought about Nikola’s voice and where it came from.
Or about how it changed one day and no one commented
“Well it sounds like you’ve got your plans, and they don’t involve me. So leave.” Tim left no room for argument in his voice. Danny, to his credit, did not try to argue. As the other man was leaving, Tim finally let the thought he had been holding onto slip. “It was nice seeing you,” he murmured quietly. Danny nodded in agreement
“It was nice seeing you also.”
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Danny and Tim had met shortly after Tim had joined the Circus, though he could not tell the time frame exactly. They were working together on an act for a while; a trapeze routine that required a lot of trust and precision, and they quickly became close.
Well, as close as anyone could get in the Circus. Tim could remember first meeting the older.
Danny had been in the Circus for a while when they met, and it showed. He had visible joints at his limbs and a circle of gold painted flat on his ring finger. He was taller than Tim, and Tim could almost say they looked related, if he didn’t know better for a fact. Tim didn’t have any cousins or siblings.
He didn't have any parents either. Not anymore.
Even after that specific act had become familiar and was thusly retired, Tim and Danny stuck close. They worked with each other when they could,and Nikola must have taken notice of this, because they had similar pair acts again and again.
It became a fact that if there was anything that could be considered “consistent” in the Circus, it was that Tim and Danny worked together on whatever act they did.
If Tim had any regrets leaving, it was leaving Danny.
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After Danny left, Tim stood silently in the centre of the room for a solid few minutes. He watched the closed door, as though the hole where the doorknob once rested would repair itself through his sheer force of will. It didn’t, no matter how Tim’s staring turned into a glare, until he eventually gave up. He would have to call someone soon, get it fixed. He would also have to think up a story. Tim wanted to avoid the, well, everything , that claiming a break-in would lead to.
That was a problem for future Tim though. In the present, he shuffled somewhat aimlessly around, putting the tea mugs in the sink, with one ear continuously listening for anything. Danny had been a shock of course, but Tim could not bring himself to say it was an unpleasant one. It was also a surprise to learn what he did about Elias. The Watcher had been unaware, and even now Tim could feel the irony bubbling in his chest. What was wrong with him ? This giddiness should have faded by now, it had been almost a week since the incident at the Wax museum.
All at once, Tim could suddenly feel himself go weak, in a similar fashion to the panic attack in the stairwell. Except this time, he could feel his legs go out from under him, like they were splintering wood. In fact, all over Tim could feel himself unbalance, like a puppet whose strings were cut and was desperately trying to stay standing on feet that were not made to support his weight. Out of his control, Tim’s breathing wicked up, as he picked himself up off the floor, holding onto the door frame for support. This wasn’t a panic attack.
What was happening to him?
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Elias was, for once, truly panicking. On one hand, if the Not-Sasha didn’t give the Archivist a mark, Stoker most certainly would have at this point. On the other…
Elias was hesitant to accept the fact he was tricked. “Timothy Stoker” had worked at the Institute for years, and Elias had paid him no special mind. As far as he had been concerned, the man seeped in the Stranger who had been watching his Institute was nothing more than a poor victim of the Circus and its tricks, not one of those tricks himself. Plants of people at the Magnus Institute had marks from various entities, with so many encounters across humanity it was impossible not to. Besides, such people tended to gravitate to the institute anyway, as either Statements or hopeful employees.
So yes, when “Tim” applied for a job, Elias paid it no special mind, and didn't care to keep an eye on him later on. Even so, it was embarrassing to have been outmanoeuvred by the Stranger. The Eye gave Elias no insight on “Tim’s” past; either it couldn’t or it was purposely keeping him in the dark.
After the, or lack of better descriptor, disaster , of a meeting with the Assistant, Elias was trying to come to a proper truth. “Tim” must have been sent by the Circus, either as a spy or to simply cause chaos in general. There was no other choice. “Tim’s” words revealed he was aligned with the Circus, possibly a high-ranking member in whatever hierarchy it held. It would not be the first time one of the other fears had infested his Institute. Emma Harvey of the Web stuck out, but there were others. Christopher Seaver of the Buried in the 1884 Library, Marie Parith of the Slaughter nearly obliterating Artefact Storage in 1968, and many others. All of those people, however, were realised fairly quickly, with the exception of Ms. Harvey. And “Tim”.
It didn’t help that even now Elias was realising he could not locate “Tim”, and every attempt left him dizzy and hearing the faintest ringing of Calliope music in his ears.
But why did “Tim” save the Archivist from his fellow Circus members? Was it a trick, a set up to gain trust? Or perhaps “Tim” was acting on his own? But why?
Elias had so many questions.
It scared him.