Chapter Text
APRIL, 20XX. Somewhere else.
Jon knows sound is physical. There's a material element: waves that travel and crash into surfaces- an ocean he can perceive but not see.
He cannot see the force that bounds around, but he knows it's there, hears the impact, and, if he leans into the right surface, finds the right resonator, he can feel it.
Jon is so tired of seeing.
The fathomless sound, cacophony of static and impossible screams, waves colliding, rushing at him until he falls apart in a metaphysical tide; it all feels like a respite. An abundance of anything-else relieves him from unbearable omnipotence and the burden of sight. He lets the waves take him, expecting to dissolve under pressure, but instead, something benevolent and incomprehensible pulls him through and carries him to shore.
He feels first.
Water, probably. Wet? A liquid, certainly. The fluid brushes against his body (he has a body?) in soothing pulses. Push and pull. In and out. A reminder to breathe. He needs to breathe. Thankfully, he thinks, gasping, he can do that.
Unfortunately, his eyes do open, but- that's all he can see. Jon sees in front of him. Nothing else.
"I-"
" Jon! " Muffled and frantic, a voice calls his name, and Jon suddenly registers discernible sound.
He never lost his hearing, obviously, but the sonic onslaught was incomparable, like an audio manifestation of the Vast, an inconceivable mass of noise that Jon couldn't hope to process. The discord enveloped him.
Now, he can recognize familiar sounds. Waves on the shore. Splashing water. Rustling sand. Heavy breathing and-
"Jon!"
Martin?
"M-Martin!" Jon cries.
Jon begs for it to be real, not an illusion or another fucking hellscape, but please, be him, be Martin, please. Jon attempts to sit up when he's quickly pushed down by an incredible weight, a large (adorable) man, a body he knows well, and a mouth he'd like to know better.
Martin.
And there they were. Together.
Well, Jon certainly hasn't lost taste. Right now, Martin's sweaty, blood-speckled lips are the sweetest things Jon's ever savored.
Martin clings tight to his dear, stupid, (selfish), incredible, alive, Jon. He pulls his lover in, pressing their bodies as close as possible and wordlessly shouting, "Don't you dare leave me again. " Jon, high from relief and desperately wanting to reassure Martin, falls into the embrace and-
Ow.
Ow.
OW.
Okay, so maybe he wasn't done with the whole "feeling" stage after all.
"MartinMartinMartin-," Jon pulls back, hissing, while Martin looks on with the most confused puppy dog face." No, no, no, kissing's good and fine, it's just-"
Jon leans back to show the rather gruesome stab wound, which is currently gushing blood down both of their bodies.
For his first words to his newly-not-dead lover, Martin chooses to exclaim,
"Holy fuck, Jon!"
"Yeah-"
"You're bleeding!"
"Oh, am I?" Jon retorts, not in so much pain to not be a sarcastic prick.
As if it's news, a stunned Martin responds, "Oh god, I stabbed you."
"Yes dear, and I forgive you, but I'd like to be alive to tease you about it so-"
"Yes! Right! Okay! Erm-"
It was at that point that both men realized they were completely naked.
"Ah."
That was...less than ideal.
"Nope, no, not happening- I didn't survive the end of the fucking world to lose you on a goddamn beach, come here."
Martin wraps his arms around Jon and helps him to his feet, trying to do so as gingerly as possible when naked, shivering, and emotionally scarred from incomparable trauma.
"Where are we?" Martin asks reflexively.
"I-I have no idea."
"You don't?" Martin replies, unable to hide his surprise.
"No, I-argh- don't know things anymore. I- I can't see, not like before."
"Okay. Well. Let's go away from the shore, find...something. To patch you up."
Jon nods, holding on to Martin as well as he could and reasoning that if he is going to die, at least he'll go with Martin's scent deep in his nose, the taste of him still lingering on his tongue.
"There's, there's got to be something, a leaf, even. I-I took a wilderness course in grammar school. I think we'll be fine if I can find a coconut."
Maybe it was better to tune Martin out a bit, enjoy the sounds of his voice rather than the specific, worrying content.
"- and I should have said something romantic or cool, but honestly, I couldn't think, and I don't really care. It's not like anybody's watching; I mean, is this real? Are you?"
"I have absolutely no idea, Martin."
There's a silence. Jon wonders if perhaps that was the wrong answer and is preparing to apologize when Martin interjects.
"God," Martin exhales, and Jon can feel a small part of the other man relax. "I mean, I'm glad I'm not dead and all, but I'm really glad I get to keep hearing you say my name."
Oh.
"...Martin."
"Jon."
"Martin."
" Jo-oOON! JON! Wait, Jon, stay alive-H-HELLO?"
Martin frantically waves an arm, losing his balance in the process and jostling Jon.
"Martin! Martin, I'm still- still stabbed, still stabby,"
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Martin consoles, then returning to his bellowing, he continues, " erm - HOLA? DZIEŃ DOBRY? Well, I mean, guess it could be- DOBRY WIECZÓR??"
Jon looks up to ascertain why his beloved is shouting and sees what resembles a human, backlit by car headlights and standing in...a parking lot?
As they walk towards the apparition, Jon hears Martin muttering to himself.
"Please don't be a demon creature...or a serial killer. Oh God, what if they're homophobic-"
"H-hello?" The maybe-homophobic murderer/demon replies.
That voice...
A tall figure, broad-shouldered with tan skin, steps out of the shadow, and Martin struggles to not lose his balance again. If he stumbles a bit, Jon doesn't even notice, much too wrapped in complete disbelief.
Barely overcoming the emotion trapped in his throat, Jon manages to push out an audible sound.
"T-Tim?"
The being, the Tim-shaped being, seems struck and quietly replies,
"... What did you just call me ?"
It's his voice, Tim's voice.
How? John wonders, not that he's not glad at the prospect but-
Oh god, was this heaven? Are they dead in heaven??
Why was he bleeding in heaven???
Tears choking his words, Martin manages to squeak, "Tim, I-"
"OH !-" The man interjects, laughing heartily. He lets the laughter relax his posture, wiping tears from his eyes as he continues, "Oh god- Christ, I- I thought you already knew my name! Phew! See that, that would have really creeped me out, I mean. Not that this isn't weird enough!"
Jon and Martin remain silent.
"Um. Hi. The name's Tom. Welcome!"
Well.
This might as well happen.