Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2021-06-05
Updated:
2021-06-27
Words:
5,653
Chapters:
4/?
Comments:
3
Kudos:
18
Bookmarks:
2
Hits:
335

The Elsewhere Foundation

Summary:

For a time, there was… nothing. No thoughts, no physical sensations, no sensory input of any kind. He might have been afraid about what this could mean, except that there were no emotions either.

Then Jonathan Sims woke up.

Perhaps it was naive of John to promise Martin they would be together, one way or another, when there were in fact an unknown number of parallel dimensions to take into consideration. Nevertheless, John would rather die (again) than break another promise. And he's done the impossible before.

Notes:

Hello! This is my first foray into TMA fanfiction, and indeed my first multi-chapter fic!

To be perfectly transparent: this is a JonMartin story, but the main focus is John being separated from Martin and trying to find him. So thing the first: Martin WILL turn up, but not for a while. Thing the second: there will be Other Surprises that happen first.

Additional note: I spell the Archivist's name John because that's how it's spelt in the transcripts. Here's hoping that's not controversial!

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

“Maybe we both die. Probably. But maybe not. Maybe, maybe everything works out, and we end up somewhere else.”

“Together?”

“One way or another. Together.”

He could hear the sound of a tape unspooling, faster and faster, the subtle thwip-thwip-thwip devolving into a high-pitched squeal, and everything was unbearably loud, and then suddenly, unbearably quiet, and when had he stopped being aware of Martin’s arms closed around him, and why couldn’t he tell if the blade was still in his heart, and what was happening to his mind, his body, that made him feel both numb and alight with white-hot pain at the same time?

Was he being unmade?

Remade?

For a time, there was… nothing. No thoughts, no physical sensations, no sensory input of any kind. He might have been afraid about what this could mean, except that there were no emotions either.

Then a quiet voice, so unobtrusive that at first he mistook it for his own thoughts.

If anyone’s listening… Goodbye.

I’m sorry, and…

Good luck.

Then Jonathan Sims woke up.