Chapter Text
When he had become the Archivist, Jon had thought the presence of his God in his head was overwhelming. The constant need for more knowledge, the incessant push of new information dropped directly in his thoughts, the difficulty to control his powers…
It was nothing compared to what he was living now. All the fear, all the screams and pleads of the people trapped in this hell of which he was the master, he could hear and feel them all. The worst part was that he didn’t particularly hate it. He knew it was wrong, but it didn’t feel like it.
He didn’t regret ending the world, though. Not if it meant Martin was safe, or at least, as safe as he could be here.
Jon cast a quick look behind him to make sure Martin was still in his steps. He was following not too far behind, not too close either. He was looking at his feet, a frown barring his forehead, trying desperately to ignore the horrors around him and the fog trailing in his wake. A fog that would never leave him from now on.
Jon knew that Martin was upset. He didn’t have to Look to know. But he could deal with that later. First, they needed to go back to the Panopticon.
It didn’t take much longer for them to reach the outskirts of the Archivist’s domain. Laws of time, space, physics… They used to obey to different rules before the change. Now they obeyed to him. He could control pretty much anything he wanted if he put his mind to it. It had simply been a matter of seconds for him to create a short path between the Panopticon and the Lonely where Martin had been trapped.
“We’re nearly there.” He decided to let Martin know.
Martin raised his head. He waited a moment before answering, probably looking for something to say, though the Archivist would very easily be able to extract it from his head.
“So we’re not going to talk about it?” Martin asked, irritated.
Jon closed his eyes. He had told Martin the necessary parts of what happened, but not everything, not yet. Not until he was sure Martin was safe at the Panopticon.
“We will, I promise, but we have to get home before that.”
When did he start thinking of the Panopticon as his home?
“So what, I’m just stuck here with ‘I doomed the world so I could save you’ as an explanation?”
“I already told you all you had to know, the rest can wait.”
“No!” Martin stopped abruptly. “No, I’m not moving until you tell me everything, Jon.”
Jon stopped as well, then turned around to get closer to Martin, his patience running thin.
“Fine. I ended the world because Peter was right. I had no way of getting you out of the Lonely, not in a world where all the Gods ruled equally. So I performed the Ritual, and now the Eye rules over all of the others. I rule this world.”
He looked coldly at Martin, who was still holding his hands in fists with frustration.
“After that I came to find you. When I met Peter again, I made sure he would never hurt anyone else ever. You already know what happened next.”
He had taken Martin out of the Lonely, and had seen Martin’s faith in him disappear slowly from his eyes at the sight of what he had done.
He could tell the story didn’t satisfy his boyfriend. He turned around and started walking again, not wanting to face the judgment in his eyes.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Martin’s voice came from behind him.
“And what was I supposed to do?” Jon replied, gaze fixed on their destination. “Leave you to die and do nothing to save you?”
“I don’t know, but you shouldn’t have doomed all of humanity just for one person!” Martin threw his hands at the sky, exasperated.
“You don’t understand, do you?”
Of course Martin didn’t think he deserved to be saved, of course he didn’t think he was worth the trouble. Worth being loved. There was a reason the Lonely was so quick to claim him for itself.
“I didn’t save you because you’re one person.” Jon stopped walking to look Martin directly in the eye. “I saved you because you’re you. It was selfish of me, I admit, but you are the only thing I truly care about anymore.”
He didn’t have anyone else. He had let Tim die, he had let Sasha die. Even Elias, the one person he had been certain would be by his side no matter what, he’d had to push him far away. He couldn’t bear the idea of losing Martin again, the only one that still mattered, and do nothing.
He stared at Martin, waiting for him to find something to reply, but all that came out of him was a defeated sigh. Martin lowered his head, looking at his feet. Jon turned around and started walking again.
He could take Martin being upset with him. What he couldn’t take was the idea that Martin would have rather died than let Jon perform the Ritual to save him. If Martin wanted to be mad at him, fine, maybe he’d earned that. But Jon would have never chosen anything over Martin’s safety.
They walked in silence, trying to ignore the sounds coming from around them, until they finally reached their destination.
The Panopticon was an enormous tower, dark and looming over the world. Rising from the earth under the Archivist’s feet when he had performed the Ritual, a palace for the king of this new world. The wide doors opened without Jon having to do anything, and he and Martin walked inside. The heavy doors closed behind them with a loud, sinister sound.
There was a long set of stairs leading to the top, but the tower was accommodating to the Archivist. Even though the Panopticon was high above the ground from the outside, the inside didn’t need its occupants to climb up for too long before reaching the top. Again, accommodating.
“There’s a room on the right.” Jon said when they were nearly all the way up the stairs. “We don’t really need to rest here, but… I thought you might want to have a moment for yourself…”
In any other circumstances, Jon would have never let Martin go alone after spending even a minute in the Lonely. But Martin wasn’t the same man anymore, was he? Ending the world, killing Peter and extracting him from the Lonely… All that had an impact on his boyfriend – would Martin even agree to be his boyfriend anymore? – an impact that had changed him more profoundly that he even realised. Leaving him alone wouldn’t put him in danger anymore.
“Right…” It was obvious Martin wanted to say something, but after a long hesitation, he walked away slowly towards the room Jon had indicated. “Right…”
Jon longed to follow him, to curl close against his chest and seek some warmth and comfort, but he also understood he needed to leave some space for Martin.
And so, the Archivist took the direction of the throne room.
The place had changed very little during the Ritual. It had been the audience room when the world was still normal, its circular walls covered in mirrors with a throne at the far back, allowing him to see everything from where he sat. Now, the mirrors had left their place to see-through glass, giving him a complete panorama of the exterior. The throne had always been a direct link to his God, and back before the Ritual, it allowed Jon to use his powers freely, whereas they had been fairly limited everywhere else. He had often hesitated to use it to know where Martin had disappeared, or how he was doing, after Martin had left the Temple for months. But the look in his eyes when Jon had accidentally compelled him convinced him it was a bad idea.
Now that Jon’s powers were practically limitless, the Panopticon allowed him to focus more precisely on certain things, instead of seeing his mind wander at every new bit of information.
He walked on the cold stone floor, ignoring the pain in his chest at Martin’s absence, and sat down on the dark throne. He sighed, letting his shoulders sag with released tension. As much as he wanted to hate it, the direct connection to the Eye felt very pleasurable in a way he couldn’t explain. It felt right, it felt like he belonged on this throne.
He closed his eyes and let his mind skim over the world and the different domains that now shaped it. He recognised a few faces, either the other Avatars ruling these domains, or people he had met before the change. His chest tightened slightly at the sight of some of the few who had been close enough to him as to have a special place in his heart, before he ruined it all.
He wished he really felt guilty, and not some sort of phantom emotion, a memory he forced himself to experience more than a real feeling.
His attention suddenly got caught by a spike of fear and distress coming directly from Martin’s room. He jumped on his feet, ready to bolt, but his resolve faltered. What if Martin didn’t want him to come? What if he was the reason Martin was suddenly in such a state?
He took a hesitant step, wondering what the best course of action would be. He could have used his powers, of course, but as difficult as it was, he had promised Martin never to look in his head again. Not after what had happened.
Still, he needed to make sure Martin was fine, and so he hastily took the direction of Martin’s room.
Arriving at the door, he waited a moment before knocking. No answer came, but the distress he could feel seeping through the door convinced him he had to enter.
“Martin? I’ll be coming in… If you want me to go away, I understand, but you have to tell me.”
The only answer he got was a gasp and a whine. Slowly, he opened the door, peeking his head inside to make sure Martin was safe. The image in front of him stopped him in his track.
Martin, sat in the large bed in the corner of the room, was looking down at his hands, terrified at their half transparency. He was trembling and there were tears in his eyes.
“Jon, what’s happening to me, how do I stop this?” He asked shakily, in a panicky voice that broke Jon’s heart.
The Archivist took a slow step forward, giving Martin time to tell him not to come closer if he didn’t want to.
“This isn’t a power I’m really familiar with…” Jon said, trying to hide the apprehension in his own voice, “but I know you can control it. It obeys what you want.”
“But I don’t want this!” Martin exclaimed, terrified at the idea of the rest of his body slowly disappearing like his hands.
“You have to want to stay here. Right now, you’re subconsciously trying to be as alone as you can, but you have to willingly force yourself to stay here with me.”
Jon was doing his best to avoid looking inside Martin’s head while also using his powers to tell him what to do. After what would have been several long minutes in a world where time was still measurable, Martin slowly regained control over himself, and they both let out a shaky breath, relieved.
It was hard to tell who was the most affected by what happened. Martin, because of what happened to him, or Jon, because he was the cause of it.
Jon hovered in the middle of the room, not sure what to do. He didn’t want to leave Martin alone, but he also didn’t want to force him to suffer his presence when he had been so upset earlier.
They looked at each other, a thousand unspoken words racing through their minds. After a long silence, Martin held a hesitant hand towards Jon, beckoning him closer.
“Stay with me? Please?”
Jon didn’t need to be told twice. He hastily climbed on the bed and curled close to Martin’s chest. Between the moment Peter took Martin into the Lonely and the moment he got out, Jon had barely spared a thought to all the people he had doomed. He had been so preoccupied with finding Martin that he hadn’t allowed any other emotion to cross his mind. Somehow, he still didn’t feel guilty for ending the world, but he definitely felt self-loathing for putting Martin in this situation.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He whispered, hiding the tears that welled in his now completely black eyes.
Martin didn’t say anything. He didn’t say it was fine, didn’t say he forgave Jon. He did, however, close his arms tighter around Jon.