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Sasha James is not an irrational person. When she sees something she doesn't understand, she works at understanding it until she can teach it to someone else. But right now, she is Not Understanding, but instead of working towards a logical conclusion, she is on the verge of panic.
Because she thinks she may understand, and she absolutely refuses to do so.
The tape plays on, buzzing and clicking in the background, but she's heard all she needed to hear. And a puzzle that has been cutting into the back of her mind for months is finally taking shape.
Sasha James is pretty sure she won't like the picture she'll see when it does.
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When Prentiss had attacked, Sasha had gotten separated from some of her assistants. Jon had been out doing follow up when the first wave of worms came upon the Archives, but her, Tim, and Martin had found their way to safety in the room Tim had been staying in. But then Jon had come back, after they had sealed the door and after Jane had made her way deeper into the Archives, shedding worms behind her. He'd bent to pick up the tape recorder Sasha had left behind. While he was distracted, a mass of worms approached behind him. Martin, ever confident in himself, had grabbed an extinguisher, wrenched open the door, and run out, diving Jon out of the way. Tim had gasped as the two went tumbling towards the break room, closing the door and sealing it before any worms could get in.
This moment had always stuck Sasha as odd, when she recalled the events later for any clues towards what her next step should be. Martin wasn't the biggest guy, standing a head shorter than Jon with a wiry frame. How had he dove towards Jon with enough force to send the both of them into the break room?
She wasn't sure what had happened next to them. All she knew was that, ten minutes later, Jon had broken through the wall like a CO2-high librarian Kool-Aid man. He had strapped together some spare canisters on his back, and he handed one off to each of them. Then, it had been a strange journey through the tunnels until they came up into the archives, immediately happening upon Prentiss. Tim had gotten separated from them at some point, and she worried after him as they used up the last of their CO2. The fire suppression system was activated, the ECDC was called. Tim was found, and he had come upon the corpse of Sasha's predecessor. It was honestly just a bit too much for her at the moment.
Sasha and her assistants quarantined until they were fully de-wormed, and they'd all come back to work. Elias had tried to insist they all take some mental health leave, and, because Sasha knew how to take care of herself, she did. She told her staff not to come back in until she did, though she made it clear they could take extra time if they needed to. But soon enough, they had all come back.
Jon had returned to work the day Sasha announced he could. Martin did as well, always the diligent worker. Tim had taken an extra couple of days, and Sasha understood completely. One encounter with Prentiss had given the rest of them significant trauma; she had no idea how Tim had survived two. Giving him extra time to heal and recover was the only humane thing to do.
When she returned, it was a whirlwind of checking all the cataloged statements to see if any had gone missing. Some tapes were missing as well, and she took a record of them dutifully. The uncatalogued statements were in a different section of the Archives, and Prentiss hadn't made it quite that far, so she was pretty sure none of those had been messed with, though she couldn't be certain.
Things had been hectic since then. Sasha had gotten everyone's statements, even asking after the tape from the recorder Jon had picked up, but he'd handed it off to Martin and Martin had lost it during the mayhem. That was unlike him, but she was more than willing to forgive him. The chaos that had occurred meant Sasha would forgive a lot of out-of-character things.
Now, hearing the recording of a voice she didn't recognize asking if she wanted tea, she wished she hadn't brushed over it so easily.
She thought back on Melanie asking her who the new kid was. Asking her what had happened to Martin. She thought about the fact that she'd been dehydrated recently, like she was used to someone bringing her tea throughout the day. She looked at the pictures she had found alongside the tapes. The man in the pictures, smiling with his arm around Tim, laughing at the photographer as they surprised him, putting a blanket over Jon's shoulders in a candid shot, looked nothing like Martin. He was tall, soft, ginger and freckled. He wore sweaters and asked if anyone needed tea, even though Sasha had just started recording. He offered encouragement and comfort while Tim gave his statement. She remembered taking these photos, now that she was thinking about it. She remembered the conversations in the statements.
So why couldn't she remember him? All she could picture, when she though about Martin, was her wiry, short, cold, professional assistant. How could she even be sure these pictures, these recordings, were real? What if these were the fakes, and her Martin was the real one?
Even as she thought this, she knew it wasn't the case. She'd heard Gertrude's recording, recorded Amy Patel's statement herself. She trusted Melanie not to be fucking with her. She growled in the back of her throat, looking out the window. The impostor was sitting at Martin's desk, typing on Martin's computer, drinking out of Martin's mug. She thought over her options. The table, whatever it was, it didn't seem to be giving the creature power. It had struggled as it was bound; perhaps the table was limiting its abilities. Perhaps the table was the only reason she was alive right now.
She stayed late. So did the creature pretending to be Martin. That made sense, with the personality it had filled her memories with. Diligent, competent, a hard worker. She wondered what Martin was like.
He seemed kind. She thought the Archives could use some kindness, right about now.
Eventually, the creature left. She snuck down to Artifact Storage once it was gone, approaching the table. She traced one line from the outside to the center, following the path of it. Something in the table felt familiar, eerie but comforting nevertheless. As her finger reached the space where a box was missing, the door to Artifact Storage opened. The impostor peeked its head in, looking coolly curious.
"Sasha?" it called. Sasha growled once more, low in her throat, at the fact that this was the only Martin she could remember. "What are you doing in Artifact Storage? You should know it's dangerous in here." It turned a corner and looked right at her, though it was still a full wall of shelves away. "Ah! Found you. What are you doing by that table, Sasha?" it asked, humor in its voice. It knew, she realized. It was just waiting for her to make the first move. So be it.
"You know perfectly well why I'm here. Give me back Martin," she forced out, gritting her teeth to keep from yelling at the thing.
"Sasha, have you lost your mind? Look at me! I am Martin!" the thing trilled, its voice becoming less and more human at random. It was playing with her.
"Give. Me. Martin. I don't care if you've killed him like you killed Graham Folger, I don't care if all you give me is a corpse, you are going. To give. Me. Martin." The creature laughed, a dizzying sound to hear.
"Oh, little Archivist," the thing laughed out, dropping the facade. Even as it transformed into a hideous, gnarled mess of limbs and horror, it kept Martin's face. It kept the face it had made for Martin. "I didn't kill your boy, don't worry! You're so much more efficient than your predecessor; I expect you would feel it if I were to kill him. I couldn't clue you in to my plans too early. But... I'm also not going to return him. This thing and your patron my limit my power, but I suspect I can still kill you if I try hard enough!" Just then, another dizzying laugh echoed from behind her.
"Need a hand, Archivist?" asked the strange and staticky voice of Michael. Sasha nearly laughed- from fear or relief, she wasn't sure.
"Yes, please," she answered, not looking over at Michael as much as she wanted to. She had to keep an eye on the thing in front of her, as it began to approach. She took a step back. The thing built up speed as it charged towards her. She ducked, feeling it tumble over her form. A door slammed shut behind her. She turned around to see Michael leaning against the door, a proud smile across its face. She smiled tentatively back. "Why did you help me?" she asked gently.
Michael laughed again, but it sounded sad. "Your Martin, he was kind to me. He treated me like a human, even after he found out what I am. Just thought a little vengeance might be nice," it answered. Its sad smile stretched comically off its face. She blinked.
"Oh, it didn't kill Martin. It said as much, in some weird brag-taunt combo. I think he's in the table, but I'm not sure how to get him out without giving that thing more power," she told Michael. It lit up, literally. Its form blurred, the colors becoming brighter and more neon as it did.
"I can handle that!" it offered. It reached a hand through one side of the table, poking until they both heard a quiet yelp. It grinned, putting its second hand into the table as well. The physical form of it seemed to blur under Michael's hands. One second, it was the two of them standing next to the table. The next, Michael was pulling, and suddenly, a man was pulled out of the table, landing on Michael with a thump. It laughed and popped up, leaving the other man a heap on the floor. It pulled the man to his feet with a hand that was altogether too big, too long, but then it was laughing again.
The man was the one from the photos. When he spoke, it was the voice from the recordings. "...Michael?" he asked, looking shocked and grateful. Then he looked her way and froze. "...Sasha?"
"Hi, Martin," she responded, taking a step towards him. It was then that the dam broke. He crashed into her, pulling her into the most comforting hug of her life. She felt him crying into her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him in response, rubbing circles into his back. She realized, belatedly, that she was crying as well.
The next day, she called everyone in early. She and Martin had stayed there overnight. She had shown him the pictures, played him the recordings. She'd gotten to know him again, learning things she would have known before Prentiss. Learning more beyond that. When Jon and Tim got to the Archives, she called them into her office, having asked Martin before they arrived to stay in the break room until she explained. Tim thought she was joking at first, but then she played him the recordings, showed him the pictures. Jon had believed her when she first told them, though he hadn't said anything. The quiet sadness in his eyes told her as much. When the three of them came into the break room, Martin was sitting at the table. He waved meekly.
Tim surged forwards, wrapping Martin in his arms as best he could. Martin was surprised at first, but then relief spilled across his face and he melted into it, pulling Tim into his chest with the same comforting hug he'd given Sasha earlier. Jon hovered awkwardly at the side before Sasha grabbed him and wedged the both of them into the hug. Hugging Martin was like being wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and love and joy. It felt like being hugged by hot chocolate with marshmallows. Sasha made the decision then and there to hug Martin every day.
The next few weeks were an adjustment period. They all had to take some time to remember Martin, to get to know him again. He kept up his kindness, brought them tea three times a day, gave out hugs like they were candy. Sasha had her daily hug, plus a few others when she particularly needed them, and Tim got about forty hugs a day. Jon, stalwart as ever, only got three hugs throughout the first two weeks. That they saw, of course. There may have been secret hugs that the rest of them didn't know about. Honestly, that sounded likely, from how happy Jon looked when he did get the rare hug.
As they remembered him, worked to make new memories, grew close to him once more, Martin simply relaxed around them. He was the most himself he could be, and they all realized just how much they'd missed him, even if they hadn't known it. As they became closer, Tim and Sasha realized very quickly that Martin had a giant crush on Jon. To their surprise, it was quickly evident that Jon liked him just as much.
And thus they began scheming. If Martin being replaced by an eldritch abomination for months and then returning wasn't enough to make him confess his feelings, they would have to get Jon to confess instead. They nudged the two of them together, setting up situations where they would be alone for extended periods of time. Tim and Sasha made an effort to talk to each of them about their feelings, specifically for each other. When Jon first actually verbally said that he had a crush on Martin, both of them cheered. Tim put a gold star on Jon's sweater vest. Sasha wasn't even sure where Tim had gotten the gold star. Jon had bristled and taken it back, but neither of them was inclined to believe him.
Sasha sent them on follow up for statements together, citing "two heads are better than one" as her reason every time. When, two months later, they walked in after one such follow up hand in hand, Tim and Sasha cheered again. Tim gave them both gold stars.
Sasha still didn't know where he got them.