Work Text:
Terrence was trying to organize a high school reunion. He was the former class president, after all. Had to do something with that, right? So he had been going around, calling and reaching out every person in his graduating class, which was relatively small, about 150 people or so. He had just reached Jonathon Sims. Terrence himself didn’t really know the kid, only that he kept to himself. Always had his head in a book or with a cigarette in the bathroom. He didn’t really have friends, but he never talked to anyone, and everyone else just repaid the favor. He was a scrawny boy, with long and greasy black hair, glasses that didn’t fit right, and, well, a resting bitch face.
Terrence couldn’t find Jonathon anywhere on social media. He found a lot of people that looked nothing like him, though he did find a fuzzy picture of some garage rock band in which the lead singer looked like him, but it was so compressed it was like looking at old security footage. Nothing concrete. So he called around, and eventually found that he worked at the Magnus Institute. A brief Google search informed him of the place, and he couldn’t say he was surprised, despite his little knowledge of Jonathon. He called the Institute and asked to speak to Jonathon Sims.
A rough voice answered him. “And who exactly wants to know?”
What?
Terrence replied, “We went to high school together and I’m trying to put a reunion on, and this is the only way to reach him. Can you get him the line?”
“I’m afraid not. Jon is currently out due to...health issues. Please check back in in a month. Thank you and goodbye!”
The line went dead. Well. That was weird. Terrence considered finding what hospital Jon was staying in, but that was a little too far, even for him. So he called back in a month, and Jon answered.
The man sounded tired. “Hello, Terrence. What is it you need?”
He hadn’t given Jon his name, or even spoken. “Um. I’m planning a high school reunion for our class; would the first of next month work for you?”
“Yes, yes, sounds fine, I may be busy with work at that time, but we will see. See you then.” Then Jon hung up. Weird. (A pattern was appearing.)
The reunion rolled around and Terrence had little hope of Jon showing up. But the man did. He was thirty minutes late, wearing a terrified expression. He was...well, he was a mess. His hair was graying, for god’s sake. He had these strange circular scars across his entire body and he looked as though he hadn’t slept since college. He didn’t speak to anyone, but he surveyed the room, seeming to catalogue everything in sight.
Terrence walked up to him with his wife in tow. “Hey, Jon! How’s life been?”
Jon blinked slowly, like a cat. “Fine.”
“So you’re working at the Magnus Institute, huh? What’s that like?”
“It’s work. I have quite a few duties as the Head Archivist. It is rather busy but my boss has allowed me the evening off.”
“Oh, yeah, I think I spoke to him! I called two months back and he said that you were out due to some health issues, what was that all about?”
Jon’s eye twitched. “I was in a coma for a few months. Nothing serious. Just a bit of an accident.”
What the fuck? Terrence was about to ask what had happened, but Jon’s eyes stared back into his, dark and foreboding. He felt like he was being watched from all angles and it was terrifying. He decided better of it and just asked, “Are you dating anyone?”
“No, I stay focused on my work. In fact, there is something I just forgot about that I must attend to. Goodbye, Terrence. Mary Ann,” he said rather forcefully, as though he had just reached some kind of limit for social interaction, nodding to him and his wife.
He then rushed out of the small gymnasium, not once looking back. It didn’t occur to him that he had never told Jon where and what time the reunion was, or his wife’s name. Terrence didn’t mind. Jon was always a weird one.