Chapter Text
Jon couldn’t take it. He’d been sitting there for hours, his eyes glued to the words in front of him. His mind screamed for him to stop this torment. But he couldn’t. He had to keep reading the paper in front of him, he had to finish it, he had to keep going until he was done, no matter how much distress he was in-
“Good Lord, Blake, Frankenstein’s monster is not an android!”
Unfortunately, Jon was alone in his and Martin’s apartment, so no one actually heard him, but it felt good to yell a bit.
This was the last time Jon would allow his students any creative liberties with their essay assignments. He knows the prompt “Write about the historical/cultural significance of Frankenstein” is a bit vague, but he had hoped they all would have at least given actual answers.
The worst part was, the more ridiculous the essay was, the more research and detail they seemed to put in.
He decided it was time for a break when his back made a sound akin to a steamroller driving over a bubble wrap factory as he stretched. The weather was fairly pleasant and a walk around the block sounded like a good idea.
Jon liked the area their building was in. Sure, there was the occasional druggie or delinquent around causing a stir, yelling, or loudly playing music in the evening (No, Jon was not an old man, it’s just that music shouldn’t be that loud after 9 p.m. in his opinion), but it wasn’t too bad of a place during the day. There were small shops and services nearby and a 24-hour convenience store that always seemed to have at least one person shopping inside. There were plenty of places to get food, whether they wanted take-out or to dine-in, though nothing fancy. There was even a small ice creamery around the corner.
Why not, Jon thought when he saw it.
“Hey, there stranger!” The young woman at the till grinned wide as he entered.
Jon smiled in kind, “Good afternoon, Vanessa.”
“Is Martin coming in?”
“Not today,” Jon said when he reached the counter, “he’ll be at work until tonight.”
She made a face, “Ugh, work, the killer of social lives.”
“Yep,” Jon laughed.
“So, what’s it today?”
“Vanilla cone.”
“UGH!” she groaned, “You’re so boring, Jon!”
“Now hang on!” Jon crossed his arms in defiance, “Maybe, I wanted sprinkles!”
“Why, Mr. Sims!” Vanessa gasped, “how utterly audacious of you!” Jon rolled his eyes as he paid. “Fine, one lame-ass vanilla cone with sprinkles, coming right up.”
“Thank you, Vanessa, I appreciate it,” said Jon as he took the cone.
“Anytime. Tell Martin I said hi.”
“I will.”
Leaving the shop, Jon sat at one of the tables outside and watched the world for a bit. A group of kids were riding skateboards down the street in an empty lot. One of them seemed to be teaching a younger skater some trick that made the board flip over the small ramp they had set up. Jon winced as the kid fell on his rear trying it. He tried a few more times and when he finally succeeded the entire group started cheering. Jon smiled as he watched him do it over and over again.
After some time, he began to move his gaze to something else, when he noticed he wasn’t the only one watching the group. Off to the side, he saw a young boy, maybe 14, watching as well. He looked like he wanted to join them, but was hesitating.
Probably shy, Jon thought, and began to look away…
… except… he couldn’t look away.
He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from this young boy.
The boy wasn’t doing anything, just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching the group as they did tricks, but Jon couldn’t look away. Something was drawing him to this boy.
Literally, it would seem, as Jon realised too late he had at some point gotten up from the table and crossed the street, making his way to the boy.
Before he had time to turn around, if he even could, the boy looked up and was startled to see him. They just looked at each other with wide confused eyes.
“Um,” Jon began lamely, “hello.”
The boy blinked and looked around him to see if Jon was talking to someone else, or maybe for help if he needed it, “Uh, hi? Can I help you?”
That was a good question.
“I…, uh, well, I don’t… actually know.”
Except, he did. He knew the moment he saw the boy’s eyes. He saw it in him before he completely processed what he was seeing.
In this boy’s eyes was the mark of a Fear.
He wasn’t an avatar, Jon knew that. It seemed some Fear might have picked this boy to feed on. As much as Jon hated it, he let himself know just a small bit about him to figure out which Fear it was.
Jon could practically feel the Eye keen as he called on it.
Brian Daily. Fifteen years old, and not a friend to his name. Not anymore. Not since Luis Hale, his best friend since they were seven, completely cut him out of the friend group. The others stuck with Luis, of course, they were his friends first, Brian was just made an addition when he moved to the city. There wasn't any real warning, at least he didn't think so at first. But, there was an ever present voice in his mind that told him perhaps they had a good reason, perhaps he did something to upset or annoy them. Perhaps, he deserved this somehow. That voice was there every time he spoke to someone, telling him they were just being nice, they don't actually want to be your friend. You're not worth their time. Eventually, he just stopped trying to make new friends. 15 years old, and he hasn’t had a friend since he was 10.
Jon blinked back into the present. His head felt heavy, but his brain was light and awake, as though he were buzzed yet hyper-aware of his surroundings. He looked at Brian Daily who watched him, now more confused than scared.
The Lonely, Jon thought, Isolation brought on by a friend’s betrayal.
Jon cleared his throat, “So, uh, this is kind of a weird question, but…” Brian tilted his head in question, “... has anything happened to you recently that was, I guess, kind of… weird?”
Brian arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, there was a forty-something who randomly came up to me, stared at me for ten seconds, and started asking weird questions.”
“Er,” yeah, Jon realised now that he probably should have used a little more tact, “well, that’s fair, I guess, but, I mean, maybe more along the lines of… supernatural?”
Instead of walking away like Jon fully expected him to, Brian surprised him by narrowing his eyes and turning to fully face him.
“How…” he started, “How do you mean, supernatural?”
“I don’t know, um, maybe something to do with… fog? A lot of it in a place where it maybe shouldn’t have been foggy?”
Brian looked confused again, “Fog?”
“Well, maybe not fog. Maybe with faceless figures? Or?” Brian's face grew more concerned and it looked like he was about to take off at any moment, “Or maybe you found yourself someplace you’ve never been to before, just by yourself?”
At that, Brian’s eyes widened again.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jon said, rubbing a hand down his face.
Damn, he thought they would have at least a little more time. As though they would be so lucky.
“How did you know?” Brian’s voice was almost a whisper and his eyes were afraid.
“There are a lot of things that I know, unfortunately,” he sighed, “whether I want to or not,” he looked over the boy. He didn’t want to make this kid give him a statement. That was the last thing he would do to him, but if there was maybe a way he could-
“No.”
“What?”
Jon rubbed his eyes and turned away, “No, I’m not getting involved with this again. I’m done with it! All of it. Sorry to bother you, Mr. Daily.”
Jon had begun to walk back to his building. If he gets there before two, he can finish most of his work before Martin gets home. That’s all he will allow himself to think of: work, home, and Martin. That’s all that matters anymore. That’s all that he will allow himself to care about. No more institute, no more avatars, no more entities, and no more trying to help people, only to end up getting them kill-
“Hold the fuck up!”
Jon nearly toppled over onto his face from how hard Brian pulled his arm back. He landed on his knee instead, which hurt just as much as his face would have.
“Shit!” Jon yelled, laying on the ground holding his knee. He snapped his eyes to Brian and glared at him, “What the hell was that for?!”
“How did you know my name?!”
“What?!”
“How the hell did you know my name?! Do I know you?”
“No, probably not,” Jon said as he pulled himself to his feet.
“But you know me?”
“Well…” Jon tested his leg. He’d probably be limping home, but it would heal in a couple of minutes, “not really. I mean, I know about you, but… we’ve never met alright! This is my first time ever even seeing you or hearing your name!”
“But you still knew it?” Brian’s eyes bore into Jon’s, afraid, but hard.
“Yes. As I said there are a lot of things I know, whether I want to or not. Now,” he glared down at Brian, “listen, unfortunately, I am no longer in the business of involving myself in these sorts of matters, and quite frankly, this is a really inconvenient time for me. I’ve just started a new job and-”
“You came up to me! And sorry, but I don’t care!” While his words were harsh, there was desperation in his eyes and a slight shake in his voice. He gripped his arm tighter, “Do you know what’s happening to me?! What’s going on?! It’s happening more frequently! It’s almost every other night now- MMPH!”
Jon slapped a hand over his mouth. He struggled in his grip a bit, but Jon firmly held him and shook his head, “Hold on! Don’t say another word! Just wait a minute so I can explain something, alright?”
Brian struggled a bit more, before sighing and nodding his head, but Jon didn’t move his hand.
“Look, I can’t exactly explain this all right now, but the number one thing you need to NOT do is tell me whatever event or thing that’s been happening to you,” when Brian looked like he was about to protest, Jon quickly added, “Trust me, Mr. Daily, if you do, whatever is happening to you will probably get worse.” Brian looked sceptical, but didn’t protest further, “Now, I’m going to move my hand, and you won’t tell me any more about your… situation, right?”
Brian rolled his eyes but nodded, and Jon let go.
“Alright, and thank you for not licking or biting my hand.”
Brian scoffed, “I’m not a child.”
“You’re 15, which technically means-,”
“Can you help me, or not?”
Jon thought for a moment. He didn’t even know how he could help him if he wanted to, truth be told. Or, if he could. He kept most of his powers after their arrival, but not all, and the ones he did keep aren’t as powerful as they were. His connection with the Beholding was definitely weaker. Martin proposed the idea that it was because it didn’t have a physical homestead as it did in the Institute or the Panopticon where Jon was able to funnel in power from, like a generator, though he was still plenty powerful. It was similar to the level of power he was at before he read the Rutter-Magnus statement. His power to obliterate avatars was gone, much to Martin’s disappointment, though there had yet to be any avatars created that posed a threat to them, as far as Jon could tell.
To be frank, since they got here Jon’s been trying to put everything that happened behind them. The Entities, the avatars, the institute, and especially The Archivist. He just wanted to be done with it and hoped that by the time one of them decided to fully emerge, it would be long after Jon and Martin finally got to live the life they wanted, the life they could’ve- should’ve had together.
But, that’s too much to ask for, Jon thought bitterly, Five years is long enough, apparently.
“Honestly,” he stated, “I don’t know if I can.”
Brian’s face fell. He looked at the ground for a moment and finally let go of Jon’s arm.
“Is… is there anything I can do? No one will believe me, not even my parents.”
“I…,” Jon watched the rough exterior melt away to show the vulnerable child underneath. He wanted to help, to tell him he’ll probably be fine, but that was wishful thinking. At best, the Lonely will swallow him up, and spit him right out, leaving him with a mild case of trauma or some unhealthy coping mechanisms. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, except wait it out and hope for the best.”
They both stood there, not saying anything for a long time until Brian turned around and started walking away. Jon watched him go, thinking to himself, that’s all either of them could do, turn away and get as much distance from each other. Forget the interaction ever happened.
But, even after Jon turned to go home, something still pulled him to Brian, and it had nothing to do with the Eye.
No, what was telling him to turn around and chase after Brian Daily, was the memory of an eight-year-old boy, living in Bournemouth, who got tangled up in a plot by forces far beyond anything he could comprehend, and had no one to turn to for help until it was too late. It was that memory that made him call out to Brian to wait.
“Look,” he started when he caught up to him, “I don’t know if I can really help out all that much, but maybe, at the very least, I can tell you a bit about what you're dealing with. Maybe prepare you a bit for what’s causing it.”
While Brian didn’t look convinced, his eyes looked a little hopeful, “You don’t even know what’s happening to me, how can you know what’s causing it? Is it your,” he wiggled his fingers at Jon vaguely, “‘Whether-I-Want-To-Or-Not’ thing?”
“No, well, yes,” Jon said, “but… I’ve dealt with it before.”
“You’ve dealt with it before?” his scepticism returned.
“Yes. Likely not exactly as you are experiencing it, but I’ve interacted with it in various forms.”
“Right, how about we stop dancing around it and you just tell me what it is, yeah?”
Jon sighed, “It has a couple of names: The Forsaken, The One Alone, but I usually just call it The Lonely.”
“The… huh?”
“Think of it as… the manifestation of the fear of being alone or being abandoned. It’s an entity that feeds off of the fear of isolation.”
“... right. So, it’s the fear of being alone, but it also feeds on the fear of being alone?”
“Well, uh, more or less, yes.”
“Isn’t that a bit recursive?”
“I mean, I guess. I dunno, I didn’t make the rules.”
“Alright, so is it targeting me or something?”
“It seems so.”
“Why?”
Jon thought for a moment of how to put it delicately, “Well, sometimes it’s just bad luck, really. You just end up getting on its radar and it will cause something to happen to make you feel fear so it can feed on it. Sometimes, its victims are predisposed to isolation, people who travel alone, or have jobs or hobbies that isolate them from others, or maybe just don’t have a lot of friends to be with. Then it will amplify their fear to a point where…,” he trailed off, not sure how he should complete the sentence.
“Where what?”
“... where it can continue to feed off of them for as long as possible. Just, consuming them with fear for the rest of their lives.”
That's all he needed to know, for now, Jon decided. He didn’t seem too far gone, so he wasn’t at risk of disappearing yet.
“So, what do I need to do, to keep it from doing that to me?”
“I’m not sure,” Jon said, rubbing his neck, “Maybe, try not being afraid?”
Brian blinked at him in disbelief. “Are you being serious?”
Well, it worked for Georgie, Jon thought, but even he knew it was a stupid answer. It would be easier if he knew what was happening to him, but if he tried to know it, it would just pull the statement out of him. He didn’t want to make this kid relive that nightmare every night. He saw how much it affected Martin, and he’s a grown man. To let that happen to a child-
Martin!
“Well, perhaps I can take you to someone you can help some more.”
“What, they can give more solid advice than your ‘Just don’t be afraid of the literal manifestation of fear’ idea? Must be the modern-day Sun Tzu,” Brian crossed his arms and glared at Jon, “You’re not just trying to get me to some secondary location, are you?”
Jon blinked, “Secondary… what?”
Brian scoffed, “How old are you?”
Jon wasn’t really sure how to respond to that, so he just shook his head, “Look, I’m a bit rusty when it comes to this. It's been years since I’ve had to deal with any of it. But, Martin has had first-hand experience with the Lonely. He was targeted, too. If anyone knows or at least can understand what you're going through, it's him.”
He’d probably never hear the end of it, bringing a victim of the Lonely to him, but he also doubted he would turn away a child in need. That didn’t make Jon feel any better though.
“Fine,” Brian said after thinking it over, “Where is he now?”
“Well, he won’t be home for a few hours-”
“Where does he work?” Asked Brian, sounding impatient.
“Well, at the Sienna BookStore, but it won’t-”
He didn’t get to finish before Brian pushed past him and started towards the store’s direction.
“Hold on a minute!” Jon tried, but he wasn’t stopping and sped down the street.
Jon groaned, “Martin’s going to love this.”