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After the lake, they didn't talk much.
They got to the land, and Basira asked how far they still had to go.
"One or two domains more, I think," Jon said.
"Of course," she sighed, resigned, and on they pushed, as around them the ground grew filled with more and more bloody organs with each step. Piled on top one another in gory little hills on the sides of the road, bleeding and squishy things for as far as the eye could see. Vultures and scavengers screeching and flapping their wings, tearing into the flesh with their teeth. Trees above their heads, dripping red.
"What the fuck is this?" asked Basira, unceremoniously.
Jon squinted at the one of the bloody piles in front of them. "This, I believe, is an intestine."
"Oh gosh," she shut her eyes, growing impatient. "I don't care what organ it is, obviously I meant what fucking domain we're in."
"Hmm," huffed, mock offense that was probably at least partly real offense written on his face. "For the record, if you'd like to know, all of the organs in here are guts."
"Fascinating," she snapped. "So I take this it's a Flesh domain, then?"
Jon tilted his head. "No… actually, surprisingly, the Flesh has nothing to do with this one."
"Great," she said, probably even meaning it, consider their last time together in a Flesh domain, "so what does?"
"Sometimes it's hard to sort those places into boxes," said Jon, "but I think… I think I have a theory. Can I ask you something to test it? Not Ask, I'm still absolutely terrified of Asking you anything, after it's been drilled into my head so hard that you'll hate me for it if I do."
"…Huh," she blinked at him. "You know what, fuck it, ask whatever you want. I'm too curios."
"What was your first thought when you saw me on that boat?"
"That you kinda looked like Jesus," answered, and then paused. "Why did I say it?"
"Ah, yes," said Jon. "We're in a domain of the Eye. One that feeds of the fear of someone knowing your darkest secrets, your deepest truth, your truest self. It's, quite on the nose maybe, simply the fear of being known."
"So, what, it makes us tell only the truth?" asked Basira.
"Yup," said Jon. "The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
Basira sighed, clutching her nose bridge. "Great. What a fun idea that we definitely hadn't had enough of. Okay. So… we just won't talk, then."
Jon nodded, looking far too thoughtful. "Or…" he said, "we can lean into it." There was a small pause, just barely enough to breath in. And then the words came out of his mouth like they're being pulled by invisible strings. "I'm just so lonely, and your friendship used to mean so much to me, I really want to be known, but even more than that, I actually really want to be known by you." He blinked. "Oh. I don't know why I said it." And then, rapidly: "no, I mean, of course I know. We're in a truth domain, of course I know why I said it. I just wanted to stress the fact that I said it against my will, because letting you think I wanted you to know that I want you to know me felt so much more vulnerable, like the honesty was adding up into something so open it was too much. Pretending I only said something because I was forced allows me to avoid admitting that I enjoyed being forced to tell you this, that I actually wanted you to know but was too afraid and uncomfortable to tell you myself. But I am actually glad we ended up here, deep down I'm glad we're being forced to do this."
Basira stayed silent for a second. "Well, good for you I guess," she said eventually. "But this share thing is going to be quite one sided; you already know all my deepest truths, you can just look into my head and see them."
Jon's hurt look was probably completely real this time. "I don't do that. I've never looked into your head on purpose, and not at all since the Change. I can control it now."
She looked surprised. "You've never looked into my head not by accident?"
He shook his head. "Why are you surprised?"
"Because I'd have, if I were you." She fired the words out, involuntarily. "I'd never have trusted us."
"I trusted you."
She looked shocked to hear the sincerity that dropped from his words like honey. "Why? we've done nothing to earn that trust."
"Basira-"
"No!" she called. "We've- I've- all I've done is to doubt you and suspect you, you had every right to think the worst of me, you had every right to look!" Her mouth closed with a click. "Oh," whispered. "Damn. I didn't… no, I did, I just…" she groaned. "Fuck. This whole truth thing is…"
"Tiring?" offered Jon.
"Painful," said Basira.
He chuckled. "Yeah, agreed on that. Can't say I do it often. Very new to the both of us I reckon."
She looked sad. Biting her lip, she sat down. "But it didn't use to be new, to me. Not in the past. I didn't use to be that person."
He sat down next to her. "I'm sorry," he said. "This world changes you. Constant danger and monsters and fear. It takes a lot of courage to be honest. And when you have to use all of your courage just to exist, day to day, not much is left for things like feelings and communication."
She huffed, half laughing half signing. "Maybe that's why Daisy was so hurt by me, after the coffin. I didn't use to keep things from her. Can't say we always communicated best, even in the force, but I didn't hide my thoughts from her. She knew everything about me. Then she came back and couldn't read my face." She laughed, a tearful sound. "And then she died, thinking I didn't want to be her partner anymore." Slowly, she raised a hand to her face and wiped her eyes. Then she whispered: "and she was right."
She didn't look at his face. Jon debated putting an arm on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I mean, I'm not sorry, I just wanted to say something to comfort you and the word sorry is the first one that came to me because she always sits on my tongue anyway, just waiting to be said, a reflex loaded to my very muscles."
Basira laughed, at that, and then thought about it a bit longer and didn't feel like laughing anymore. "This is my fault, I think."
"Not yours alone," he said, "but I imagine you had a part. Though, honestly, Basira, as much as your behavior towards me in the last year hurt, I feel like I have to remind you I did experience worse things, sadly."
"But I was supposed to be on your side. We were working together. I just couldn't seem to work with anyone but myself."
"I'm sure you had your reasons."
She looked up to him. "You really are, don't you?"
"You seem surprised."
"I feel so bad at how I treated you. I couldn't see past my paranoia, couldn't even identify friend from enemy. And yet here you are, with every right to be angry, telling me you always had faith in me. Believing I am not a bad person. It just makes me feel worse."
"Well, if it helps, I'm pretty sure a lot of it comes from a place of deep self-hatred on my part."
She laughed out loud, at that. "Sorry, sorry, I shouldn't laugh. It's not really funny. But it does make me feel better? Even though it really fucking shouldn't. It's just, I know how it feels."
"You do?" he asked immediately, surprised for the first time.
"I hated myself most of my life, I think. Well, hate is such a big word. I never used her, not in the past, not even in my own head. But I used it now, here, so I guess it must be true. I just…" she sighed, frustration written on her features. "I wanted to help people. That's why I became police officer. And I felt like if I help someone, even one person, that means I have value, that my life has meaning. But I never felt like I succeeded in that. I couldn't save anyone. I couldn't even be there for the one person who's always been there for me. No wonder she liked you better."
"She didn't like me better," said Jon, off put. "She just found in my company something she couldn't manage to find in yours."
"What was it?" asked Basira, moping.
"Understanding?" he tried. "Maybe patience."
"I failed her."
He wanted to say no. He couldn't. So, he stayed silent.
She looked down, her hands playing with the grass beneath them. "There were days I couldn't be around her."
"Why not?"
"I just-" she choked. "I felt I don't even know her anymore, and I didn't want to get to know the new her. I just wanted my partner back. Exactly as she was. I didn't want another thing to make an effort with. I felt like I'm putting so much effort, like I'm the only one of us trying to keep everything together, like no one even see how hard I'm trying…" she started sobbing, wiping her eyes and smiling humorlessly. "How ironic, huh? At the end, I fucking wanted to just be seen…"
"I see you," said Jon. "I see your efforts, I see your good intentions, I see-"
"My mistakes?" smiled Basira. "My shortcomings?"
"Yes, that too. But it doesn't make the rest of it mean any less."
She met his eyes. "Thanks, Jon. That means a lot." She laughed, shuddering. "Fuck, this conversation is so uncomfortable. I'm really just out here saying stuff, huh?"
"But if feels good, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah," she admitted. "It actually really does. Thank you. For listening."
"We all just want to be heard," he said. "And, um, not to show off or something, but I'm told it's remarkably easy to tell me painful things. It's like I-" he wiggled his eyebrow, "-pull the truth out of them."
She snorted and shoved his shoulder. "Very clever, yes. You're a truth domain all on your own, very nice." She straightened her back. "We should get going." He didn't meet her eyes. "Jon?"
"It's just," he said. "I didn't yet say everything I wanted to say." He grimaced. "Oi, really didn't want to say that out loud."
"The truth and nothing but, mate," she said. "What else did you want to say? I'm, well, I'm listening."
"It will sound mean," he hesitated. "And I don't want to hurt your feelings."
"Oh," she said. "I appreciate it. And, um, it will probably help to not be hurt. I mean, knowing this will. I mean, knowing you don't want to hurt me will help not being hurt."
"The wonders of open communication," he mumbled.
"Truly marvelous."
Jon sighed. "I just. Sorry. I just. It feels mean to say it right after what you said, but I guess I'm a bit angry at you. For… for everything that happened after the coma."
"Oh," said. "That does hurt my feelings." Then she made a face. "Didn't mean to say it."
Jon laughed. "I know you didn't. I'm glad you did say it, though. I really don't want you to feel bad. I'm just hurt. I guess I still resent you a bit for this. And I don't know what I'm trying to achieve exactly, saying all this to you, right after you already apologized-"
"I didn't," she cut him. He looked up at her. "I didn't apologize actually. So, I will now. I'm sorry for treating you like you weren't trustworthy, Jon. I'm sorry for treating you like a monster."
"I needed a friend," he choked out. "I was so alone and afraid and everyone I loved had left me, and I thought it might be better if I'm dead. Still kinda think so if I'm honest. And I know you had every reason to abandon me, but I needed you there and you turned your back on me like I was nothing to you. I… I thought we were friends."
"We were," she said. "We are. We've been through too much together not to be."
"I don't know if I can forgive you for this," he said, and immediately paled. "…Huh. That's news for me too. I… didn't know I felt that way."
Basira swallowed hard. "I'm trying to pretend it doesn't hurt me," she said, and then cursed.
They both fell silent after that.
What can you say? "What can you say?" asked Jon. "We both recognize each other's right to feel what we feel but we're still hurt. What can we do now?"
"I don't know," she answered. "Maybe try to figure why it hurts?"
"I once heard that hurt feelings are just our brains telling us our needs aren't being answered. So, what needs do we have that we don't answer for?"
"I need to feel like I'm not a bad person," said Basira, sounding like she's pulling a tooth.
"Me too," said Jon. "And for what it's worth, I don't think you're a bad person. I think you were just scared and overwhelmed."
"Thanks. I don't think you're a bad person either. I thought you were giving up on yourself, or not trying hard enough, or already too far gone that it didn't matter. I thought you were a bit selfish, too. But now I just think you were trapped and lost."
"Thanks. I need to hear that I was trying my best and doing everything I could. I need my struggles recognized."
"I need my efforts recognized. I need to hear that I was giving everything I had to give for this, that I worked my hardest, sacrificed everything I had to sacrifice. That I was worthy."
"Basira, you were worthy even had you not been giving everything you had." He met her eyes. "But you did. You gave everything. You had a life before you met me. Now you have nothing. I'm sorry for that."
"It's not your fault. It's Elias'. But thank you. I didn't deserve what happened to me. And you didn't either."
He turned his head. "I don't know about that…"
"You didn't," she repeated. "Not in my opinion at least."
"Thank you," he whispered. "I'm glad you're here, that I'm not alone. I missed you."
"This truth thing rocks," she muttered. "Fuck, it's awful, but it also really rocks."
Jon laughed, then. "Got any other confessions you want to make before we move on?"
"I stole a pair of pants from M&S when I was sixteen."
He laughed again. "I stole a pack of cigarettes. And then a bottle of vodka."
Her eyes grew big in delight. "Jon, look at you! I didn't know you were such a bad boy as a teen. What happened to all that?"
He chuckled. "How I became such a boring old man, you mean? Huh. I quit smoking a bit before joining the institute, and sorta quit drinking a bit before joining the archives. Been going a little over the top. Worried some people. Tim held me an intervention."
"No way!" she called. "He did? I'd never have guessed."
"Well, I feel obligated to make some sort of comment on how your reaction to discovering I have a past with addiction is a bit inappropriate, and the kind of behavior that treats this like something cool or like that makes me a badass or something like that is extremely harmful and goes against what we're trying to achieve, and also hypocrite because the people that act like it's cool to be an alcoholic are the first people to throw you under the bus when you ask them for help, but I don't really want to get into this because it seems so unimportant right now, in the literal end of the world, and also it's not really about you as a person but more about our society and it'll just feel like I'm attacking you specifically when I try to attack a public mindset that is not shared only by you, and also I am very tired of talking about this subject and frankly I quite fancy myself a drink right now."
They both stared at each other.
"Wow," said Jon.
"Yeah, wow indeed," she agreed. "You know what? Why don't you tell me all about our sick society when we're in the tunnels? Let's just go."
He hummed. "Yeah. We should be close to Hill Top Road by now. I hope we're not too late."
She wanted to tell him they aren't. She couldn't. She saw him noticing that.
"I'm really happy for you two," she said instead. "You're good to each other. And he's been crushing on you for ages."
Jon smirked. "He has, hasn't he?" said. "Hey, I have an idea. Before we go, why won't we play a little game?"
"Oh, what now?" she sighed.
"Let's take this opportunity and ask each other everything we've ever wanted to know. You know, now that we literally can't lie." His smile was made of sharp things. His words were like a snake in the grass. Basira missed him.
"Fuck it," she said. "Okay."
"You start."
"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"
He chuckled. "You went straight to it, huh? Okay. Hmm. I don't know what's the most embarrassing objectively, but the most embarrassed I remember being is the first time me and Georgie had sex. It was also the last." He paused, tilting his head. "Yeah, I'd never have told you this anywhere else. For sure."
Basira smiled. "Was it that bad?"
"Oh yes," he nodded with emphasis, "it surprised me, how immediate and strong the sensation was. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that I had to stop. I was quite embarrassed by my reaction."
"Did Georgie-?"
"She was great about it. She didn't tease me, she never mentioned it."
She hummed. "She mentioned it to Melanie," said, grimacing. "I'm sorry. Wasn't gonna tell you. She told me. Melanie, that is. Sorry for not telling you."
"I appreciate you saying this. But I already knew, to be honest. I heard the tape."
"Oh," she said. "Of course."
Jon smiled. "That's okay, I'm not angry. I was a little hurt, at the time, but it was right before the unknowing and I had so many more important things to think about, and then there was the coma, and when I woke up I honestly couldn't give more of a shit about who will know I'm asexual." He chewed on his lip for a second, lost in internal debate. "Can I ask you something? What did you mean when you said it explains some stuff?"
She looked like she doesn't want to answer. It took him a moment to place her expression as guilty. "I wouldn't have said it if I knew you'd hear it. I'm sorry. I just meant that you never seemed to make anyone feel… uncomfortable. It was something about your vibe. You just seemed very chill."
The height to which his eyebrows rose was honestly impressing. "Chill? Me? Back when we met? Are you sure you got the right guy?"
She laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I remember how fucking paranoid you were, don't worry, I haven't forgotten that you were insane back then. But you never made comments about anyone's body, and you never touched anyone in an uncomfortable way, and you never made rude comments about anyone's weekend. You seemed to never mind all that, it was… nice."
"Oh," said Jon. "Um. Thanks. I'm… glad. I thought you were gonna say something… else."
"What?"
He made a face. "Oh, just something along the usual lines. You seem like such a nerd, or you're rude and snappy so of course you're a virgin, you're so annoying, who would even want you, trust Sims to never touch a woman, he's so self-centered I'd be surprised if he wasn't asexual, you know, the likes. I mean, I never got told any of it to my face, wasn't out enough to get that, heh, but I'd always…" he closed his eyes, sighing. "I always feared getting called all that. I know," he opened them and smiled at her, "how Beholding of me, eh?"
"Yeah," said Basira. Her gaze was soft. "It's just fear. Nothing more. Nothing that can really hurt you. That's okay, Jon."
He nodded, his head bowed. "Well," asked, "what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Have you ever had someone?"
She grimaced. "Gosh, are we fucking twelve years old playing truth or dare? Fine, bloody hell. No. You happy?"
"I'm sorry-" he said quickly, "I didn't mean to-"
"I'm not actually mad," she admitted, clearly against her will, "I'm just embarrassed and feel vulnerable so I try to mask it by being bitchy. The truth is, I never felt like it's important enough for me to try actively searching for it. I told myself if it happens on its own – if it falls on me in the middle of the street – then I'd roll with it and see what I think. But… it never did. No stranger had ever bought me a drink in a club, no one accidently knocked my books out of my hands. No beautiful barista that remembers my name in a coffee shop. And it… felt bad. But also a bit like a relief? And by the point it started bothering me – the thought about whether it should've happened already, and what does it say that it hadn't – I had met Daisy. And she… she wasn't it, she wasn't what I saw in the movies, she wasn't butterflies in my stomach or anything like that. But she was solid. She was everything I needed. I didn't feel like I'm missing something when I was with her. I felt like it's enough. We knew each other, we loved each other; it didn't matter what kind of love it was. You know?"
Jon nodded. He had tears in his eyes, which she definitely would've teased him about unless she also had tears of her own. He pulled her into a hug.
"This is so awkward," she murmured, wiping her eyes.
"Shut up," said Jon without any malice. "I'm glad I know that about you. I feel closer to you now." He wrinkled his nose. "Shit."
"Ha ha," gloated Basira, not meeting his eyes, "that's what you get for wanting connection, loser."
Jon rolled his eyes. "Yes, you caught me, I'm desperate for connection and feel very alone. What an absolute shock."
"I see you trying to hide behind sarcasm in a truth domain, Jon. It's not a good look on you." He stuck his tongue at her. Basira, being an adult, resisted returning the gesture. "It's my turn to ask you something, I think."
"Do your best."
"Hmm. When did you realize you're in love with Martin?"
"Who's a sixth grader now, huh?"
"Shut up, I've been wondering about it. You do know he's been painfully obvious about his feelings for you since the moment I first saw him, right? Besides, it's a better question than 'what's your worst fear', which is the only other one currently sitting in my head."
Jon hummed, thinking deeply. "I don't know," he said eventually, sounding as surprised about it as her. "I guess it'd just happened over time, and I hadn't noticed. I do remember not being in love with him, and I remember being, I just can't tell when one turned into the other. It's like they just… bled into each other."
"Ugh, always with the gory language," groaned Basira. "Well… when is the first time you remember it clearly being something?"
He laughed a bit, at that. "I don't know if that's what you're looking for," he said, "but the first time I saw him in a different light was definitely when Jane Prentiss attacked."
"Really?" she laughed. "Adrenaline does feel similar to being in love, I've heard."
"No, no," he shook his head gently, "it wasn't that. It's just… seeing how prepared he was, how far in advance he thought… it was kinda hot."
Basira was full on losing her mind laughing. "Yeah," she gasped, "nothing hotter than a man who thinks ahead, so I've been told."
"Oh quiet, you," he pushed her arm. "This is a judgment free, truth only zone. My turn."
"Ask away," she said through wheezing. "I've no secrets from you and our lord."
"Jesus Christ?"
"The ceaseless watcher, Jon."
"Oh, I do not like this metaphor."
"Told you you look like Jesus."
"Shut up! It's confession time. Let's see…" he tapped his chin.
"C'mon Jon, what do you most want to know?"
He made a face, the compulsion doing its job. "I want to know if you like me, if we're friends." He buried his face in his hands. "Oh god, this is so embarrassing…"
Basira smiled. "Jon, that's okay-"
"I just!" he called, stopping her. "I really enjoyed being your friend. When we first met, you were practically the only one in my corner. I felt like I can trust you. And it really helped me, because I couldn't trust anyone else that time. I was so alone, but whenever you came to the archives to bring me another tape, for a moment I could pretend I'm someone else, whose life is not falling apart at the moment. You were… easy to talk with. You made me feel less afraid."
"Jon…" she stared at him. "I'm actually rather touched. I felt… more similar than not, to be honest. I was going through a hard time then."
"I remember," he said. "You wanted to quit the force."
"And then I did. But it was a hard decision. I was so scared. But I loved going down to the archives to drop a tape, back then. I liked talking to you. You were funny. I was really rather relieved to realize you weren't the one who killed Gertrud. I was kinda rooting for you."
"Really?" he asked in a small voice.
"Really."
"I always figured you didn't like me," he confessed. "You said you don't want to see me ever again, when you brought me the tapes that last time."
"I did. I was... afraid."
"But you had a good reason to be," he groaned. "You were right to assume seeing me again would only mean troubles. Look at where you are now. If you had let Daisy kill me in that forest-"
"Hey," she stopped him. "I don't regret saving you that day." She waited for a second, letting her words seep in. "Maybe it's irrational of me. Maybe I should regret it. It kinda makes it my fault that the world has ended."
"No, it's not your fault, it's only his."
"I know, I know. Thanks. And anyway, you saved my life first. Back at the Maxwell Rayner arrest, with your tip. So we're even. We've helped each other the same amount, I think, back then. We were both in over our head, stuck in shitty jobs. Only I could quit mine."
"Yes, so you could immediately join my shittier, harder to quit one," commented in a dry voice.
Basira laughed. "I missed your sense of humor."
Jon smiled, a small and delicate and open one. "I missed you."
They stayed quiet, soaking in the moment.
"It's a shame I let myself forget you can be my friend," said Basira suddenly. "It could have been nice, not being alone this past year."
"Yeah," said Jon, and he couldn't lie. "It really could have."
"Especially since you and I were kinda the only ones holding this thing together."
"Really?" he turned to her. "That's how you remember it? Funny, I remember being half dead half the time."
"You were still more help than Melanie," laughed. "And Daisy. And definitely more help than Martin, sorry. You were the only one sharing the weight with me."
"Glad I could help," he muttered.
"Yeah. You were pretty much my right hand there. I should have been more grateful."
"Sorry, your what?" he spluttered. "Basira, are you calling me your sidekick?"
She grinned at him. "What, you? Big ol' important ruler of the world you? Nahhh."
He shoved her, but he was laughing, and an insult about batman and robin was standing on his tongue, and she was laughing, and she thought he was funny and she was glad he didn't die and she wanted to be friends and Jon felt so light, lighter than he had felt in a long long time, so light he had almost forgot about the apocalypses and about Martin-
Martin.
"We should go," he said, straightening up.
Basira sighed. "Yeah… back to the apocalypse. It was nice taking a break though. Fun while it lasted."
"Ah-ha!" called Jon. "You had fun!"
"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes. "Honest communication is not all bad, I get it. I'll try to be better at it even when I'm not supernaturally compelled, alright? If. If we have a chance."
His smile was tender. "I'll try too," he said, helping her up. "If we get the chance."