Work Text:
It was almost seven when Liam Hodge finally got home from work. He had stayed late fixing a coworker’s mistake, then stopped at the grocery store for what he’d intended as a quick shop but what had ended up taking nearly an hour. All in all, it was with great relief that he finally reached his apartment door.
Strange, he thought as he shifted the shopping bags to one hand to fumble with his keys, the place was actually starting to feel like home. Going from living with the love of his life (or so he had thought) to a stranger he met online had been a difficult adjustment, not to mention the embarrassment of still needing a roommate in his thirties. But Martin had turned out to be a pretty good roommate. A good friend too, once he’s warmed up to Liam.
He wondered about Martin sometimes, how such a loving man could have ended up so alone. When they’d first moved in together, Martin had been sad and withdrawn, keeping to his own room and barely speaking to Liam. At first Liam had assumed that was just how he was and didn't think much about it, but time went on the facade began to crack. Little things, remembering the way Liam liked his tea after one telling, picking up laundry detergent unasked when he noticed Liam was running low, humming to himself as he cooked. As they became more comfortable around each other Liam realized that isolation wasn’t natural to Martin at all, it was carefully practised. What could have happened to make him put up those walls? Liam was curious, of course, but he wasn’t about to actually ask. So he wondered.
He was wondering about Martin when he finally got the door open and stepped inside. He froze.
There was someone in his living room.
It couldn’t be Martin, he had texted earlier to say he wouldn’t be home til late. And anyway, that—that thing couldn’t be Martin. He wasn’t even sure it was human.
It was human shaped, from it’s silhouette alone it might have been a short, very thin man. But no man had that many eyes. They covered its face, its neck, its arms. It wore no shirt or shoes, exposing the eyes on its chest and feet and Liam was sure there were more under its jeans. The eyes were packed together like scales on a snake, barely any skin between them. Some of them were as huge, twice the size of a human eye, others smaller than a penny. Some blinked and shifted rapidly while others stared unmovingly at a single spot. Quite a few were fixed on Liam and he could feel them, could feel their gaze on his skin, in his mind.
Memories rose unbidden to his head. He saw his parents smiling at him, his dorm in uni, Jessica, his ex, asleep against his chest. He felt those eyes examine and discard each one. He saw his own tearstained face in the mirror after Jess had ended it, saw his things in boxes, saw Martin shaking his hand the first time they met. The images were speeding up now. Martin coming home from work, Marin writing in his notebook, Martin watching telly, Martin sad, Martin laughing, Martin, Martin, Martin.
All at once it stopped, leaving Liam gasping and dizzy. He was on the floor, though he didn't remember falling down. He could still feel the gaze of too many eyes making his skin crawl. The thing began to move and the shadows seemed to bend away from it, the objects in the dark room not illuminated exactly just… unobscured. Seen. Liam scrambled to his feet and away from it until his back was pressed against the door. His heart was pounding.
“Please,” he whimpered. He could barely speak through the terror coursing through him “Don’t…”
The thing stopped moving. A few more of its eyes turned to Liam.
“I’m not here for you,” it said, speaking from a mouth Liam hadn’t even realized was there between all the eyes. Its voice sounded like it could have been human, once, but not anymore. Liam couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong with it exactly except that it sounded—powerful. It turned away.
Minutes passed. The thing moved slowly about the room, looking. Liam stayed pressed against the door, never free of those eyes, his fear never waning. He didn't know how long it had been when the thing turned its head to him.
“You’re hungry,” it said. Liam had been, when he first got home. He supposed he still was, though he was too frightened to feel it. “You should eat.”
Liam couldn’t imagine eating, but he was scared to disobey. He picked up the grocery bags from where he’d dropped them on the floor and went to the kitchen. The thing was out of sight now, but he could still feel it’s many eyed stare through the walls. He put away the groceries and heated up a frozen lasagna, which he ate standing over the sink. He washed his dishes. Then he stood there, hands shaking, no idea what to do next.
He went back to the living room. The thing was still there, of course, still idly looking at everything at once. It paid Liam no mind. An hour passed. It continued to move slowly about the room. Two hours. Around nine thirty, it went into Martin’s room. Liam wanted to protest, protect Martin’s privacy but he just stood there, too frightened to speak. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it watching him. Martin would understand.
A little after ten, the front door opened.
“Martin!” Liam hurried over to him, his voice hushed and terrified. “Martin, there’s something here. There’s something—oh god, Martin it’s terrible.”
“What?” asked Martin, laying a steadying hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Did someone break in?”
“No, it’s not—it’s not human.” He was whispering, though he wasn’t sure it mattered. “I don’t know what it is Martin, but it’s not—it isn’t—”
Martin’s face darkened.
“It’s alright, Liam. Describe it to me, okay?” The small part of Liam not completely consumed by fear noticed with surprise how calm Martin sounded. He seemed to actually believe Liam, but he wasn’t frightened. More resigned really.
“It—it looked like a man, but it’s eyes,” his voice broke, “it has so many eyes.”
“Martin.”
Liam jumped. The thing had come out of Martin’s room. So many of its eyes were now fixed on Martin that it made Liam shiver just to think about. Liam looked to Martin, expecting now to see his own terror mirrored on Martin’s face but Martin still didn’t look scared. He looked shocked.
“Jon?” he asked, sounding breathless.
“Martin,” the thing said again.
And then. Then. Martin started walking towards the thing. Liam was so surprised that he almost forgot to be afraid. Martin stopped only inches from it. Liam could see his face in profile, lit by the streetlight outside and what almost looked like hope.
“Jon, how… how are you alive? When the institute burned—” Martin swallowed “—I thought it killed you.”
The thing—Jon—shook its head.
“I was too powerful. I’d grown beyond the institute, beyond Elias.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Look at me, look at what I am now.” Liam couldn’t comprehend how such a terrifying creature could sound so sad. “You didn't deserve… I tried to stay away.”
“Oh Jon.” Martin reached out and laid a hand on its face. The eyes there closed under his gentle touch. “You shouldn’t have gone.”
Jon leaned into Martin, his eye covered hands coming to rest on his waist.
“I see so much, Martin.” His voice was pained. “I can’t stop seeing. I’m more powerful than Elias ever was. And the fear. It’s so easy to take people’s fear now, I can’t stop that either. I need it, I-I want it.”
Martin’s hand slipped down to Jon’s chest, then to his waist, leaving a trail of closed eyes behind.
“You’re not like Elias,” he said, pulling Jon closer. “You never have been.”
Jon shuddered. More eyes were closing along his back and arms, places where Martin hadn’t touched him. Liam could feel the weight of his gaze lifting. In the low light, he almost looked human.
“I’m worse than him. I’m more powerful.” His thin body shook as he let out a sob. “Martin, I don’t know how to stop hurting people.”
“We’ll figure it out together, Jon. We always do.”
Jon collapsed into Martin’s arms. Martin stroked his hair as he sobbed, the last of his eyes closing. Still holding Jon close—terrifying, monstrous Jon—Martin glanced at Liam.
“Liam, could you put the kettle on?”