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Jonathan Sims was a monster. The strongest avatar of an infernal, evil entity of fear and Watching. He feasted upon the fear of innocents in order to sustain himself, damning them to restless nights until the End took them.
But Jonathan Sims was also a person. Perhaps not a human, he had not been a human for a long time. But he was a creature capable of kindness nonetheless.
And he was so incredibly, bafflingly, ferociously kind.
That's what Martin loved most about Jon.
Martin was a nurse now, as he had always dreamed of being. He had been able to take night classes as they hid out in Scotland, and was able to nab a job when they had to return to London. Sometimes, as he worked, he would hear whispers among the patients and his co-workers.
They were always about the same thing.
A man, cloaked in darkness and covered in a faintly glowing, searching array of eyes, would appear at the sides of some patients, always ones that were close to death. The old, the chronic ill, the ones nurses and doctors knew would not last much longer. It was not just one hospital, though. The figure seemed to visit all over London, and sometimes beyond.
He usually came through windows, but it apparently was not uncommon for him to simply walk through a strange door that was not meant to be there. The cameras never saw him, he seemed to Know exactly when they would be looking away.
Wings would emerge from his form, sheltering his chosen victim from any roommate that may be watching. He would then speak, asking them to make a statement, in a remarkably human voice.
The only evidence he left was the occasional tape, marked with the date and an ominous title. When one listened to them, they always began the same way:
"Statement of [patient name], regarding [summary]. Recorded [date]. Recorded live from subject, by the Archivist. Statement begins."
Martin knew his real name was Jon.
After that, the recording would switch to the patient, who told the listener a story of some kind. Typically, these stories were horrific, detailing traumatic, seemingly supernatural events. Nobody was sure what factors made the strange man decide to leave a tape, but many believed that the ones left behind were threats.
Martin knew they were meant to be warnings.
People often wondered what drew the man to them, if it was the closeness to death that drew him or the apparent trauma.
Martin knew it was both.
Patients the man visited were plagued with nightmares, and did not know if the man they saw felt any guilt or remorse.
Martin knew that Jon regretted it so incredibly deeply, as Martin saw how his partner looked when he returned to their shared home, many eyes shifting to tuck themselves back under their scars, each one wet with shed tears.
Sometimes, the patient was already dead when the morning nurse came to check on them. People believed that he had killed them.
Martin knew that Jon would clutch the hands of patients as they spoke, grounding them, silently assuring them, until they finally were able to let go of their lives and slip away, troubles forgotten, and that those were Jon's favorites, because he would not trap them in any dreams.
Sometimes, the idea that perhaps the man was not a monster, and was instead some sort of fallen angel or reaper was discussed. Some patients even longed to be visited, as that would signal an end to their suffering.
Martin knew that Jon was no reaper, as he had met many of them before, and they were nothing like him.
Yes, Martin knew a lot that the other staff and patients did not.
He knew that Jon checked and double checked each patient's record before he took their statement, that he made certain they would not live much longer.
He knew that often Jon would awaken in bed, crying out and shaking with fear that was not his own, and would need to be held and calmed before he could sleep again.
He knew that Jon wore two rings even in his more unnatural form, one a solid black and the other a luminous silver.
And he knew that the ring on his hand was a perfect match.
He knew that Jon had plunged himself into the corridors of the throat of delusion, that he sacrificed his own ribs, that he plunged into incredible depths to save the women who scared him the most.
And he knew that Jon had practically leaped into the realm of fog and mist, when he was given even the slightest chance to save the one he cared about most.
Martin knew, above all, that Jonathan Sims loved him, and that he tried so very, very hard to go against the wishes of the cruel Beholding, to instead be merciful and good.
And he knew that he loved Jon, the Archivist, the monster, the sweetest phoenix to grace the earth with the wildfires of his kindness.