Archive of Our Own

The Extinction had been stopped, and the Watcher's Crown. Jon was starting to get a handle on his powers, and the world was saved. Things were supposed to be better.

They weren't. 

"I'm sorry, I have to do what?"

Elias sighed. "Thanks to the efforts of you and your friends, this ritual cycle has passed uneventfully, which means we are headed back into a long stretch of neutrality and small alliances to keep the peace while we build our power again. Given that you have taken on the role of the Beholding's main Avatar, this burden now falls to you."

"And why," Jon leaned forward threateningly, placing his hands flat on Elias's desk, "does that mean I have to get married?" He let the compulsion sing through the words, though he knew it would have little effect. It let him retain some illusion of control over the situation. 

Elias just smiled. "Because, as the monarchies of old discovered, there is little better way to demonstrate kinship than to actually become kin."

"Who is it you expect me to marry?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Jon pushed himself back, angrily, glaring at the smug face behind the desk. He should have let Melanie kill him when she had the chance. "Then can you at least tell me which power they belong to? Who are we allying with?"

Elias gave another cold smile, leaning back in his chair. "Why, the Lonely, of course."

~~~~~

Jon stalked back to his office, ignoring the Institute employees who gave him odd looks and a wide berth as he brushed past. It had been two weeks - two weeks - since Elias had come back from jail, and already he was being as manipulative and controlling as ever. It was supposed to be better now that they had saved the world, things were supposed to go back to the way they had been before they found out about the Dread Powers. Instead, they were as trapped as they'd ever been, collecting stories from traumatized innocents and using them to feed a being that wanted to end the world.

At least now the world wouldn't actually end. Not in their lifetimes, at any rate.

And at least now they were all together. 

"Everything alright, Jon?"

Martin caught him before he could reach his office, a mug of tea in his hand and a worried frown on his face. Jon found himself smiling on reflex. 

"It's- yes. Just Elias, you know? Gave me a lot to think about."

"Normal Monday, then." He scrunched his nose, grimacing. "If you need someone to bounce ideas off of, I'm here."

"Thank you, Martin. I think- I need time to process it first."

"Sure thing." Martin smiled, turning to head to his own desk. "You know where to find me."

"Yes." Jon watched him go, still smiling faintly. Martin had returned to the Archives the previous week, sliding back into his old job with surprising ease. It was nice, to have him back. Really nice, and Jon had thought-

Well. It didn't matter what he had thought, did it? He was getting married.

He went into his office, and shut the door with rather more force than he would usually apply. It wasn't that-

Okay, so it wasn't like he'd thought he'd have a normal life after all this. He'd made his choices a long time ago, and "normal" had disappeared right along with his humanity. He was fine with that: as long as he wasn't hurting people - and he wasn't, not really, not like he had been. Yes, he still slipped up, yes there were still mistakes, but on the whole he hadn't added too many more innocents to his nightmare menagerie and if the paper statements were stale and unsatisfying at least they were safe.  

Anyway. As long as he wasn't hurting people, he didn't much care if he was human or not.

What he did care about was having his whole future stripped away from him with just a few casual words from the man who'd got him stuck in this whole situation in the first place. For all Elias went on about the freedom of choice and making your own decisions, he was rather adept at taking those choices away from people. Yes, Jon had chosen to accept the job as Head Archivist. Yes, he had chosen to keep pursuing that job when the dangers of it started coming to light, too invested in his own curiosity to leave. He could even admit, now, that he had chosen to become a monster, too scared of the alternative if he had never woken up.

But that didn't mean he had chosen all these additional burdens and responsibilities that Elias was claiming came with the territory. It was one thing to sign your life away to an eldritch horror. It was quite another to sign away your love life.

Jon collapsed into his desk chair, putting his head in his hands. What options did he have, though? None at all, that was what. If he refused, Elias would take it out on Martin and the rest. He had made it abundantly clear that any and all Archival transgressions would be reflected in their well-being.

Martin. God, what was he going to tell Martin?

They weren't- Jon had spent the last week dancing around the subject, giving them both time to readjust to the other, see if their feelings had changed. His hadn't, not one bit, and from the glances Martin kept throwing his way and the way he was acting he was pretty sure the other man's hadn't either. But they weren't together. Not yet.

Not ever, now.

And of all the powers he had to cement an alliance with, it would have to be the Lonely, wouldn't it? It would have to be the Lukases, because they had a long-standing agreement with the Eye and, beyond any supernatural repercussions of breaking such a deal, Elias couldn't risk losing the funding they provided to the Institute. He'd said so, right to Jon's face. I'm sorry, but we can't risk alienating our biggest donors.

Bastard.

The only consolation Jon had in all of this was that at least it wasn't the Web he'd have to tie himself too. The phrase would be a lot more literal, if it had been.

But despite all his protestations, all his anger and despair... there was nothing he could do. Nothing except spread the bad news around, because everyone would have to find out eventually, and he'd rather they heard it from him. One person, in particular, deserved to hear it from him.

Jon spent another ten minutes in his office trying to prepare what he was going to say before scrapping the whole lot of it and deciding to just wing it. There was no right way to break this kind of news. 

He hesitated outside the door to the assistants' office, taking a deep breath before opening it a crack to lean into the room.

"Martin? Do you have a minute?"

Martin glanced up from his desk, his smile morphing into a frown as he took in Jon's expression. "What's wrong?"

"It's..." he paused. "I'd rather discuss it in private, if you don't mind? Meet me in my office?"

"Sure. Be there in a moment."

"Thank you." Jon shut the door.

~~~~~

Martin was red in the face with rage, pacing up and down in front of Jon's desk and swinging his arms around for emphasis. Jon cowered on the other side. He'd seen Martin angry before, of course - he'd been the cause of it often enough - but never quite like this.

"He can't just do that!" His voice was loud enough to hurt Jon's ears. He winced. "He can't just take your life away like that! It's- well, for one thing it's illegal, and more importantly it goes far beyond the normal control and manipulation, it's just- it's just fucking evil!"

"He has murdered people, Martin."

"Yeah but that's-" He stopped, waved a hand irritably. "Lots of people have murdered people! It's not news anymore! This is vile!"

"Glad to know where your priorities lie." Martin flushed, and Jon smiled to soften the comment. "Look, it's... gratifying, to know you're as upset about this as I am. But there's nothing we can do."

"There has to be. If we just talk to him, find some other way..."

"There is no other way, Martin. He won't let there be."

Martin clenched his jaw. "He can't force you into a marriage, Jon. Especially not to a Lukas. I've worked with them, and trust me, it's not- I'm not letting that happen."

"There's nothing you can do to stop it."

"But I can certainly try." Martin turned on his heal, throwing open the office door and striding out. Jon scrambled to follow him.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm going to talk to Elias."

"W- Martin!" Martin was already halfway along the corridor to the stairs. He didn't look back. "Wait! Martin! You can't-" But he was gone. Jon growled in frustration, running one hand through his hair. If he confronted Elias, said or did something the man would count as a transgression...

"Everything alright?" Basira's head poked out around the door to the assistants' office. "I heard shouting."

"Fine. It's fine. It's just-" Jon sighed. He'd have to get it over with at some point. "There's something I have to tell you. Will you gather the others?"

~~~~~

"Well that's fucked up." Melanie kicked her feet up onto the desk, frowning.

Basira chucked darkly. "You can say that again."

"You really don't have any options?" 

Jon shook his head at Daisy's question, sighing. "Like I said, if I step out of line he'll come after all of you. I can't risk that."

"You could, you know." Melanie shrugged when her comment met with startled silence. "He could. We can handle Elias."

"Much as I appreciate the offer, I'm not letting that happen. You've all been hurt too much because of me as it is."

"And Martin?"

"Ran off to confront Elias before I could stop him. Believe me, I tried." 

Basira nodded. "Guess I'm not surprised."

"By him or by me?"

She smiled at the tired humor in his voice. "Both."

"So what are you going to do?" Melanie's tone was still rather nonchalant about the whole thing, but Jon didn't really blame her. She'd washed her hands of the mess that was the Archives long since, taking hold of her own fate with a sharpened awl. She only visited to keep up on new developments and because she knew it annoyed Elias.

"I... nothing, I suppose. I can't do anything, except go along with it and hope that whoever I end up with has taken the Lonely so much to heart that they're an absentee spouse."

"Jon. Melanie's right, you know. You don't have to go along with this. We'll fight for you." Daisy glanced at the others. Both nodded. 

Jon swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Thank you. But something tells me all that would do is get all of you hurt, and leave me as trapped as ever."

Melanie raised an eyebrow. "You think we can't take him?"

"I think that even if you can, there's a whole family waiting in the wings to ensure the deal goes down anyway." He sighed, dipping his head for a moment before looking up again to meet Daisy and Basira's eyes, and Melanie's unseeing frown. "It means a lot to me that you're offering. But please. Please don't try. I can't lose anyone else."

Basira and Melanie nodded, and Daisy leaned forward to squeeze his hand. "It's your choice. But the second that changes, you call us in. You're not doing this alone."

Jon smiled briefly, squeezing her hand back. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

~~~~~

Martin didn't return to the Archives until late in the evening. He walked curled in on himself, shoulders hunched, and when Jon jumped up from his desk to hurry to his side he could see his eyes were red from crying.

Jon put a hand to his shoulder, scanning his face with worried eyes. "Martin! Are you alri-"

"I'm sorry." It came out on half a sob, hoarse and broken. Something fierce and protective flared up inside Jon, and he stepped in front of Martin, moving so he could hold him by both shoulders.

"Hey, hey, it's alright." There were tears on his face; Jon brushed them away gently. "Martin, what happened?"

"He-" Martin hiccupped, choking back another sob. "You were right. He wouldn't listen." His eyes met Jon's, wide and wet. "I'm sorry, nothing I said or did made any difference, he just-" he broke off again, shoulders shaking. Jon tightened his grip.

"Martin. Martin. What did he do to you?" He felt the words buzz out of him, heavy with unintended compulsion. He didn't like doing that - especially not with Martin in the state he was in - but he couldn't find it in himself regret it, not this time. He needed to know.

Martin barked out a laugh. "There's not much he can do to me, anymore." Then he blinked, raising a hand to his mouth. "Oh."

Now the regret came. "Oh- god, Martin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." Martin shook his head, taking a deep breath. The shock seemed to have shaken him out of his tears. "I'd have said it anyway."

Still, Jon let go of his shoulders and took a step back. Best to reduce the intensity of the situation while he had the chance. After a moment, when Martin didn't seem inclined to continue, he spoke.

"What do you mean?"

"By...?"

"What do you mean, there's not much he can do to you anymore?"

"Oh." Martin's voice was still hoarse, a result of hours caught between screaming rage and tears. Jon wasn't sure if it was his own knowledge of the man that gave him that insight, or the Beholding dropping it straight into his mind. "I mean that... well, after everything that went down, with Peter and with the Lonely... he tried, don't get me wrong, but I guess I'm sort of... beyond that, now? Like, there's some sort of- of defensive wall that goes up. I just... faded away behind it when he tried to go all 'spooky-all-knowing-fear-being' on me, even though I didn't, you know, fade away. And he couldn't get past it."

"Huh." Jon paused a moment, considering. "Well, I can't say I'm happy to hear you're still, uh... more than human, as it were. But I'm glad Elias can't - didn't - hurt you."

"Yeah." Martin looked at his shoes, shuffling awkwardly. "Look, Jon, I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do."

"It's..." Jon took a deep breath, glancing away. "It's not your job to do anything, Martin. But... thank you for trying."

"Sure." He gave a small smile, which Jon returned. There was a pause.

"So..." Jon chose his words with care. "Did he, ah, give you any indication of who...?"

Martin snorted. "No. He just said Peter would find a suitable candidate, and we'd be informed when it became relevant."

Jon sighed. "Of course he did." He smiled wryly. "Same old, same old."

Martin sniffed, coughing into his hand. Jon's smile dropped.

"No offense, but you sound awful. Would you, ah, care for some tea?"

Martin smiled again, and it almost looked genuine. "If you'll join me?"

"Of course." 

Jon led the way to the break room, walking close enough to Martin that their shoulders brushed. Martin didn't comment, but Jon could have sworn he leaned into the touch.

~~~~~

The next few weeks were difficult. Daisy was sympathetic, Basira was furious, and Melanie flip-flopped between the two, occasionally making a pit stop at "amused and making bad jokes about the situation." Jon himself tried to put a good face on it, but he knew he was doing a poor job of hiding how much the situation scared him. And it was fear, even though he wasn't under any physical threat. He was terrified. 

And Martin... Martin was by turns angry, sympathetic, terrified on Jon's behalf, and more determined than any of them to find a way around the situation. Nothing he did helped, but... his unswerving dedication was one of the few bright points left in Jon's life. Which, of course, was a whole new world of pain, because he was a bright point that Jon would soon, inevitably, have to leave behind.

None of this was helped by Elias, who continued to drop by the Archives with new tidbits of information and instructions for the upcoming nuptials, or by Peter, who continually failed to make an appearance and put Jon out of his misery by announcing who his spouse would be.

~~~~~

Martin was sitting at his desk, quietly clicking through some site or other online. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and one curl of hair had broken free of the tangle on his head and was resting gently against his temple. He twirled a pencil in one hand.

Jon was- he wasn't staring, he was just- well, fine, he was staring. But in his defense, Martin had been gone for a long time, and he hadn't had the opportunity.

...which didn't make it any less weird, admittedly, but still.

"Alright, Jon?"

Jon jumped. Martin was giving him a curious look.

"Ah, yes, I'm just- thinking."

"About?" Martin set down the pencil, giving Jon his full attention. It was a little overwhelming. 

"It, uh... well, after you came back, Basira- she gave me the tapes. All of them. I was just thinking about how close I- how close we came to losing you."

"Oh." Martin dropped his gaze, twisting his mouth awkwardly. "Yeah. Uh... sorry, about that. I should've- should've told you. Or, or something."

"N-no, it's- I understand why you didn't, I just... the thought of you never coming back, of you being... gone, forever, I just... it's just hard to process. Even now that you're back."

Martin gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah. It's hard to believe myself, sometimes." He picked up the pencil again, tapping it thoughtfully against his mouth. "Hard to believe I made it back, others. Hard to believe..." His gaze flicked to Jon for a second, then dropped. Jon understood.

"Hard to believe we both made it."

Martin's mouth twitched in a small smile. "Yeah."

Jon mirrored the smile, walking over and pulling up a chair next to Martin's desk. He leaned an elbow on the wood, resting his head on it and letting some of the warmth he was feeling creep into his voice. "We did, though."

Martin's eyes went soft, and a faint flush crept into his cheeks. "Yeah. We did." His eyes flickered briefly over Jon's shoulder.

"Who're you talking to?"

Jon jumped again, throwing out a hand to steady himself against the desk so his chair wouldn't fall over. He glanced at the door. Basira was leaning around the frame, a perplexed look on her face.

"I was just-" a quick look back at the desk showed Martin was gone. "Myself. Just- just trying to get my thoughts sorted. Did you need something?"

"Yeah, I was looking for Martin, actually. If you see him, could you tell him to come find me?"

"Alright." Jon pointedly did not look at the desk again.

"Cool. Thanks." Basira swung herself away from the door, turning to leave the room. There was a brief chill in the air while Jon watched her go; when he turned back, Martin was sitting in his chair again, a sheepish look on his face.

They stared at each other for a second. Then Jon said, voice carefully neutral, "Basira's looking for you."

The flush rose to cover Martin's entire face. He raised a hand, covering his eyes in embarrassment. "Oh, god. Sorry, sorry. I know I shouldn't-"

"It's fine, Martin," Jon laughed. "I don't mind." He shifted in his chair. "It's actually kind of... flattering?" Martin gave him an incredulous look, and he hastened to explain. "I mean, that you'll stick around for me. Even when you don't have the energy to deal with the others."

"Oh." Martin glanced away. "Well, it's different, taking to you. It's easy."

Jon felt his own face begin to heat at that. "Thanks."

They fell silent for a moment; then Jon said, lightly, "I think I'm vindicated for thinking you were a ghost, though."

"Hm? Wait, what?"

He shrugged, keeping a straight face. "You know. Given that you can basically haunt people invisibly now. I wasn't too far off the mark."

Martin gave him a bewildered look before understanding slowly crept in. "Are you seriously bringing that up again? Are you so unable to let go of things that that's been on your mind this whole time?"

Jon's deadpan look cracked at Martin's tone, and he burst out laughing. "Oh come on, it was a reasonable question and you know it! If worm-infested corpses can walk the streets, people can be ghosts!"

Martin started laughing too, more at Jon's reaction than anything. "Yeah, but it was seriously out of character at that point, Jon. I mean, pre-coffin-Daisy-listening-to-the-Archers out of character. Like five minutes before you were steadfastly denying the supernatural existed at all, then you come out with 'Are you a ghost?'" Martin put on deep voice, mimicking Jon. Jon started laughing harder, leaning on the arm of his chair and gasping for breath. It wasn't that funny, truly, but it was Martin. "Can you blame me for being a bit startled?"

"N-no," Jon managed to choke out. He sat up straight, taking deep breaths. "You were one hundred percent justified in your reaction. It was just-" he broke off, chuckling again.

"Yeah." Martin laughed too. "It really was something. Weird way to start getting to know someone." He smiled, eyes going soft with nostalgia.

Jon smiled back, breath finally under his control. It was hard to believe that it had taken them so long to get to that point: they'd worked together for years, been in the confined space of the Archives for months with Martin living there, but he was right. That was the day, that was the conversation, that finally moved them away from work acquaintances and towards actually being friends. Towards being what they were today.

Martin dropped his eyes from Jon's, picking up his pencil to fiddle with it again. There was still a slight flush to his cheeks, and that curl was hanging down over his forehead. Jon wanted to-

He didn't know. But he was hit with such a wave of fondness, sitting there watching Martin, such a wave of- of love. They'd been through so much over the years, thrown together and pulled apart, and through it all they kept finding their way back to each other, back to this strange, long-time-coming but oh-so-natural now it was here ease in each other's presence, this comfort in having the other near. Jon could honestly say that he preferred spending time with Martin to being alone. Consistently, too, not just on occasion. He'd never known someone like that before.

Martin's eyes flicked up to meet his again, a small smile creeping over his face. Jon returned it with a slightly dumbfounded one of his own. 

Yes. He loved Martin.

He loved him.

~~~~~

"We have to find another way."

Elias raised a tired eyebrow. "We've been over this, Jon."

"Well, we're going over it again. I'm not going to- to sell my life to your plots and schemes, to- to marry someone I don't love, someone I don't even know!"

"Oh, don't be like that." Elias waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sure you'll fall in love with them over time."

"I don't want to fall in love with some servant of the Lonely! I-" I'm already in love with my best friend.

Jon bit the words off, snarling in frustration. That eyebrow went up again, and Elias laced his fingers together, leaning forward over the desk. "Do you have anything new to offer to this discussion? Or is it just going to be further variation on the eternally petulant theme, 'I don't want to'?"

Jon glared, not saying anything. He didn't have anything he could say.

Elias sighed. "That's what I thought. You don't have a choice in this, Jon." His smile was closer to a cold grimace. "Better start getting used to the idea."

~~~~~

The church was small, and cold. The graveyard outside seemed uncomfortably familiar; Jon did his best to ignore it. There wasn't much he could do about that, now.

His hands shook as he tried to straighten his tie. Elias had demanded he dress for the occasion, and this, at least, he hadn't protested. He'd worn this suit to more funerals than weddings, anyway. It wasn't like it was going to start carrying any worse connotations.

He jumped when the church door creaked open, but it was only Martin, come to check on him. He shut the door quietly behind himself, walking over to stand next to Jon, staring out over the clouded moor.

"How are you?" His voice fell flat and dead in the still air.

Jon sighed, closing his eyes. "Not good. Are the others here?"

"Waiting inside. We-" Jon opened his eyes again to look at Martin when he paused. His teeth were worrying his bottom lip, brow furrowed. "I know you don't want to put us in danger. But we'll fight for you, Jon. You just need to say the word. It's not to late."

"Thank you." Jon almost reached out a hand to him; pulled back at the last minute to fiddle with his tie again. Martin was in a suit as well, black as mourning, and Jon's heart ached for him. "But I think we both know I won't ask you to."

Martin was silent for a minute. Then he said, with a vehemence sharp enough to cut, "This is shit. You deserve better than this. We deserve better than this."

"Yes. We do. But we're not going to get it." Jon let out a humorless laugh. "Hacking my eyes out is starting to look like a better option, in hindsight." His fingers fumbled on the tie again. "Damn."

"Here," Martin stepped forward. "Let me get that for you." Jon's hands fell to his sides as Martin took over, deftly re-tying the knot and straightening the fabric. He frowned at it when he was done, running the fabric through his fingers. His voice was hushed. "I should have run away with you when I had the chance."

"The world would have ended."

"Yeah." Martin lifted his head. He was standing mere inches from Jon, and his eyes were dark and serious. "Might have been worth it." A smile twitched at his lips, and he began to step away, letting his hands fall from the tie.

Jon... he didn't plan on reaching out, grabbing Martin's hand as it fell away, holding it tightly in his own. He didn't plan on it, but he did it anyway, and Martin's name slipped past his lips, fierce and desperate - "Martin" - and he knew his eyes were wild. Martin's lips were slightly parted, caught on an indrawn breath, and he gripped Jon's hand back, and-

And Jon kissed him.

Jon kissed him, and he kissed him like he was drowning, or like he wanted to drown - to lose himself entirely in Martin, in the press of their lips together, in the mingled breaths and the tangled fingers. 

His free hand cupped Martin's cheek, fingers skimming over warm skin and tears; Martin held him by his lapels, pulling him closer, closer.

When he finally stepped back, he let his fingers go slack in Martin's, his other hand falling gracelessly to his side. He took a shallow breath.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have- I don't want to make this harder on you." 

"Jon..." Martin squeezed his hand, shook his head. "You don't have to... You're not losing me. I'm still going to be there for you, Jon. No matter what."

Jon ducked his head, blinking back tears. "I can't make that same promise, Martin. I'm going to have to be for someone else."

Martin smiled sadly. "I know."

Jon looked at him, then, for one long and heavy moment. Then he carefully disentangled their hands, letting the chilled air flood the space between them, and glanced toward the church door. "I'd better get on with it, then."

"Okay." Martin was still smiling at him, brokenhearted and resigned, and all Jon wanted to do was step back and kiss him again. But that wouldn't be fair, would it, because Martin had already been hurt so much and Jon could not bear to hurt him again. 

Martin acted first, closing the space between them and standing on his toes to press a gentle kiss to Jon's lips. Jon's eyes fluttered shut; he could feel the movement of Martin's lips when he spoke. 

"We'd both regret it if we didn't." 

And then he was gone again, stepping back and gesturing toward the doors. Jon nodded, took a deep breath, and went inside.

~~~~~

It was a small church. Jon walked up the aisle between the rows of pews, up toward the alter where Elias and Peter stood, waiting.

Only one of the pews was occupied, four figures sitting stiff and uncomfortable in protest of the proceedings. Jon was surprised to see Georgie there, but not displeased. It was nice to think she had been ready to fight as well, if it came down to it. Both she and Melanie were in funeral black; Basira and Daisy appeared to be wearing flak vests.

Jon turned when he reached the alter, glancing out over the silent church. Martin had slipped into the building after him and taken a seat in the very last row of pews near the door. His eyes were red-rimmed, but they met Jon's without any hesitation, and Martin gave him a small, supportive smile.

He turned back to Peter and Elias. "Well?" he said harshly. "Let's get on with it." 

Elias rolled his eyes. "I would be delighted to. However, you seem to have forgotten your fiancé." 

"Maybe if you'd actually deigned to tell me who I'll be marrying..."

Elias turned to Peter, expression a mix between exasperation and true annoyance. "That was your job."

"Must have slipped my mind." Peter smiled at him, shrugging, and Elias glared.

"Leaving them lonely to the last possible minute, are you?"

"Obviously." Peter turned to the pews, waving. "Martin, get up here. You don't want to miss your own wedding, do you?"

Jon was vaguely aware of the joint cry of surprise from their small audience, Melanie's strident "You have got to be kidding me," rising over the lot; but he barely heard it through the rushing in his ears as he spun around to fix his eyes on Martin. On his fiancé.

Martin stumbled out of the pew, tripping over his own feet, and stood frozen in the aisle, his gaze never leaving Jon's face.

Jon took a hesitant step toward him, eyes wide, voice soft with disbelief. "Martin...?"

Whatever spell had held him transfixed broke; Martin dashed forward, running at Jon and throwing his arms around him when they collided. Jon buried his face in Martin's hair, feeling his own tears dampening the curls, and held him as though he'd never let go. He certainly didn't plan to let go, if he could help it.

Daisy wolf-whistled, and Jon felt the exhalation of breath against his neck as Martin laughed.

All too soon, Elias cleared his throat. He sounded rather impatient. "Shall we get on with it, then?"

Jon pulled back, meeting Martin's eyes, looking for a confirmation there. His heart was racing in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream, and yes it was insane to think they were about to get married when they weren't even dating yet- but he wanted this. God, he wanted this, he wanted to be with Martin, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man who was smiling back at him, nodding, gripping his hands and laughing with joy.

They stepped up to the alter again, hand in hand, and the ceremony began.

It was a joint officiation: Elias prompted each of Jon's vows, Peter cued Martin. Most of the vows were fairly standard; whatever supernatural aspects this ceremony entailed, it borrowed heavily from Christian traditions, and the to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health were familiar. The in life as in death was new, but not unwelcome, and the for the betterment of those Powers which we do willingly serve was spoken with hesitance by both of them; but when they reached the I do's the look Martin gave Jon was pure love, and he knew his own eyes were just as soft.

Finally they reached the end. Elias snapped shut the book he was reading from, and gave them a solemn nod. "You may now kiss."

Martin surged forward, hands gripping Jon's collar as he pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Jon wrapped his own hands around the back of Martin's neck, fingers tangling in his hair. It was warm, it was loving, it was the best kiss he had ever had, and Jon probably could have stayed right there for the rest of the night, kissing Martin - kissing his husband - but Daisy wolf-whistled again, reminding him of their audience, and he pulled back, resting his forehead against Martin's and grinning too hard to speak.

~~~~~

Elias had, apparently, rented out a small restaurant for the afternoon as an impromptu reception hall. Melanie, Georgie, Daisy, and Basira had commandeered the buffet table upon entrance, and appeared to be involved in an intense investigation of the various unusual foodstuffs on display - all of which were either expensive, rare, or both, presumably provided by the Lukas family's inexhaustible wealth. Peter and Elias were in another corner or the room, heads bent together in animated discussion. And Jon and Martin were talking.

"This is, uh... I mean, this is alright, isn't it? You don't have to- we've been forced into this, if you don't want to-"

"Jon." Martin reached out, laid a hand on his arm, and Jon stuttered to a halt. "I want this. I mean, okay, yes, I would have preferred if we'd been able to, you know, go out together for a bit first. Move in, settle into each other's lives, and- and propose, and plan a wedding together, and- but I want this. The thought of you with someone else- even if it had been someone you chose, someone you loved, I wouldn't have- it hurt. A lot. I want to be with you, Jon." Martin smiled, squeezing his arm. "I want to spend my life with you. If you'll have me."

"Yes," Jon breathed, and covered Martin's hand with his own. "Yes, I want that too."

"Good."

Martin took a step forward, and Jon wound his arms around him, drawing him close. He could feel Martin's breath tickling his neck where his head rested on his shoulder, and he closed his eyes, pressing his face into Martin's hair. He felt warm, and relaxed. The weight that had been hanging over his head for so long was gone; in its place was the solidity of Martin's body against his, the surety that they could have this, could stay together, the joy of love returned.

They stood there for a while. Jon wasn't sure how long. Eventually they were roused by the sound of a throat clearing. 

"Gentlemen," Elias said. "If we could interrupt for a moment?"

"What do you want?" Martin's voice was cold, but he stepped back from Jon to face their interlocutors. 

"Just to clear up a few things!" Peter smiled. "A little debrief, you could say, now that you'll be settling into your new roles."

"Fine. Say what you have to."

Elias smiled. "Come now, Jon, surely we can put that anger behind us? Unless you aren't happy about the match?"

Jon's hand tightened around Martin's. "I can be happy with the match and angry with the way it came about at the same time."

"I suppose," he said. "Be that as it may, we would like to discuss things with you separately, if we can possibly manage to pull you away for a moment?"

Jon glanced at Martin. He shrugged and nodded, stepping away. "Just be quick about it."

Peter led Martin away, though the guiding hand he tried to place on his shoulder was swiftly shrugged off. Elias watched them go, smirking slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry?" Elias turned, eyes wide, the picture of innocence. "Tell you what?"

"You knew who it was, and you still let me- Why didn't you tell me it was Martin?"

The compulsion was unintentional, and ineffective as ever. Elias blinked as the wave of power washed over him, and waited for it to die down before speaking.

"As I said: it was not my job. However, I do apologize for the delay in your finding out. As far as I was aware, Peter was going to tell you as soon as the family decided who they were sending."

"I'd have thought you'd have been able to tell from my attitude that he hadn't."

"Oh, you never can tell." He tugged at his cuffs, straightening the already pin-sharp material. "Given the past the two of you share, I was quite willing to believe you were stridently opposed to marrying Mr. Blackwood on principle alone."

Jon bit his tongue. He didn't believe that for a second, but it wouldn't do any good to argue.

"So what did you need to tell me in this debrief that's so important Martin couldn't hear it too?"

"Mainly I just want to remind you of who you serve. You may be the foundation of our continuing alliance with the Lukas family, but you are of the Eye. If ever there should come a time when the alliance fails, be sure you know who you stand with."

Jon nodded amiably. "Yes, I know. With Martin."

"With the Eye, Jon."

Jon gave him a look. "With Martin. If you wanted anything different, you should have chosen me a different husband." The word sent a thrill through him, and the next words came out through a poorly-repressed grin. "Though honestly, do you really believe those two goals would be in conflict? I am much closer to the Eye than he is to the Lonely, and he would not turn against me."

"Perhaps." Elias pursed his lips. "I am less inclined to trust."

Jon frowned at him for a moment. "How did this happen?" When Elias just looked at him, he elaborated. "How is it possible that it's... Martin? I thought I was to wed a Lukas."

Elias's lips twitched in what was almost a smile. "The Lonely is far larger than just the Lukases, Jon. And while Martin may not be a full Avatar, he shares enough traits with them that the family judged it... an acceptable compromise."

"Compromise? With what?"

"A compromise between uniting our powers and not leaving everyone involved completely miserable. A failed marriage is no way to tie us together." Elias leaned in, smirk growing more prominent, and whispered into Jon's ear. "Really, I don't see why you're so surprised. We do try to make sure people are happy with their matches, in things like this. It's how I met Peter, after all."

He winked and began sauntering away. Jon stared after him, frozen in shock. He approached Peter and Martin; Martin swiftly flipped Peter off and started walking toward Jon.

"All right?"

"Y-yes." Jon blinked, tearing his gaze away from where Elias had just rested a proprietorial hand on Peter's shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I just learned some rather disturbing information."

"You and me both." Martin smiled, holding out a hand to Jon. "But, seeing as it's our wedding day, and that I know Georgie has some good music on her phone that we can talk her into playing... I think we're allowed to ignore it all, just this once." He stretched out the hand a bit further. "So: Jonathan Blackwood, may I have this dance?"

Jon could have fainted dead on the spot, at those words. Instead, he reached forward, grabbing Martin's hand. He was grinning so hard it was almost difficult to speak. "Why, Martin Sims, I believe you may."

Martin tugged his hand, dragging him toward the center of the room, and Jon followed, feeling light as air. They'd have to work out the name thing at some point... and the living situation, given they currently had two rather shitty flats... and find out if this ceremony was legally binding or if they still needed to get a proper marriage certificate... and-

Jon didn't care. It was all so normal, so domestic compared to the problems they were used to facing, and it would all be with Martin. Martin, who he loved, Martin, who he'd so nearly lost, Martin, who he would never be separated from again.

Georgie had found the speaker system and plugged her phone in. Music started drifting from speakers set on the walls; Daisy pulled Basira into a dance, Georgie and Melanie following close behind. In the far corner of the room, Peter dragged Elias into a waltz, but Jon was ignoring them.

He put his arms around his husband - his Martin - and swayed gently to the music, thinking about the man in his arms and nothing more. The rest of the world could wait.