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Jon walks with haste, his steps echoing with Martin’s, flowing in and out of unison as he takes it all in. The chill creeps along and almost envelopes the two, but nothing more, it isn’t anything to identify what domain this house is from. It’s as vacant as a haunted forest, the steps from each of the men still echoing as they walk a long hallway, cautious movements and worried glances are caught in the peripheral as they stay near each other and try to keep sight of the other.
“I don’t understand, this is just a normal house, why are we here?” Martin whispers, but it falls amongst the silence as it bounces off of the chilled walls, which makes his heart stop as does his footsteps. His regrets don’t feel relief as there is sudden fog that seems as if it spills into the hall from the rooms lining either side.
A sudden cry is heard, and Martin is unsure if Jon hears it too as he does not react. It was small, a whimper that traveled through the fog and as Martin turned around to see where it came from, he’s covered in the fog. It's dense and obstructs Jon’s view entirely, almost as if it wants to hide Martin.
“Martin! Martin, it’s The Lonely!” Jon shouts, hoping he was still nearby, the cold setting in and crawling under the jacket that was now helping in vain to keep him warm. With his breath sitting uncomfortably in his chest, as if the fog was trying to steal the air in his lungs to render his search useless.
“Martin?” Jon whispers, trying to push his mind to find where he was in the fog, but there was nothing near him. He wasn’t gone, but he didn’t feel quite there either. Faint. Jon leaned against what he assumed was a wall, finding his bearings and calling out to Martin again.
They were standing there, together, not too long ago and now it felt like Martin was farther than he felt the distance to the Panopticon. “Martin, where are you?” Jon cried out, waving at the fog as if that would help any, though it began to crawl along the floor, as if it was an entity itself.
Jon ignored it, his hand following along the wall so as to not get lost. He knew his way around, or could see his way through, but losing the physical presence of the wall felt as though he would lose his way while trying to find Martin.
“... Not a comfortable chair, of course…” He heard echo slightly from the fog, almost too quiet, but he heard it. He endeavored to follow where he thought the voice came from, being careful as to not become frantic and lose himself in this domain as well.
Just focus on his voice, you are not lonely. You just have to listen to his voice.
Jon’s hand, scarred and cut as it may be, still clung to the wall as he walked along the hallway. The house was so empty, no furniture to bump into, or any paintings that caught his hand. It may have been appreciated, but it was still eerie, it made sense for a house of The Lonely yet it made Jon feel as though he was meant to feel alone. Ironic.
“... Oh- oh, oh. Hello! What are you?” Martin’s voice rang out, sounding further away, fading out almost as soon as it was heard. Jon looked behind him, quickly turning back and hastening his steps to walk back the way he had been walking.
“Martin? Just stay there, stay where you are, please,” Jon told him, as if he was convinced he could hear him. It was more of a hope that he didn’t want to abandon. He was finding his way and taking a turn before he heard Martin’s voice again, “... I don’t, what was I saying?”
“Martin, can you hear me?” He pleaded, finding himself at an intersection and unable to discern if he should go left or right. He waited, listened, faint footsteps and incoherent words falling short of reaching him. Jon followed where he felt the faint feeling of Martin, trying hard to not look too hard so he still had his privacy if he wished. He wanted to look, to see if he wanted to stay hidden, but he wanted to find him first. To see him, without just the faint feeling of him.
“... Jon? Jon. Jon! Jon! Jon? Jon, I'm here. Can you hear me?” Martin’s voice called out, but his words faded in and back out again, becoming faint but he strained to listen. “... Where are you? I need you. I-I need you, Jon…” Martin cried out, but the volume of his voice didn’t sound like he was getting any closer to him, even if he was following it, it could have been an illusion and he was simply becoming lost. Maybe Martin was right next to him and he was the one that left, but as soon as the thought came to him, he pushed it away, refusing to succumb to The Lonely.
“... Please don’t leave me… I can’t do this on my own, please…” His voice rang out again. Jon felt a pang to his heart, unable to hold himself to the wall anymore as he started sprinting through the fog in an attempt to find him quicker or catch him if he was moving.
“Martin! I’m trying, just wait where you are!” Jon requested, trying to find his way, see his way through. The house was huge, the halls winding and folding into each other, rooms that branched out and were too many. Too big, not enough visibility. Not enough space but yet there was too much space.
“... There’s nobody else, I’m alone… The only people that could ever stand to be around me are gone…” Martin whispered, his voice close enough that he could have been next to him. Jon jumped and looked around, trying to see if he could find him before he disappeared again.
“Jon? Jon? Jon! Jon, I’m here, Jon I- I think I’m lost…” The voice of Martin called out, further away again and Jon ran toward it again. The switching back and forth to being called by The Lonely and becoming self aware was becoming more frequent and he almost growled in frustration as he felt Martin become faint again.
“Please, hold on, Martin. Just hold on!” Jon pleaded as he felt a wall and avoided crashing into it, almost tripping and leaning against the wall instead. He was trying to see where he was, pushing harder without thinking of consequence as he found Martin, trying to find which room he was in or if he was in the hallways.
Time was lost, he was wandering for what could have been hours or minutes, Jon just tried to keep the picture of Martin in his mind. The walls stopped his mind when he tried to look, almost reminding him that he had limits, for Martin’s sake at least. Jon was an avatar, is an avatar, but Martin could very well be an avatar as well, and he was lost here, he said it himself. He refused to be lost.
“... Jon? Jon. Jon, yes, Jon, I remember him. I need to- I need to keep him here. If he can find me- I… H-he knows enough, surely he knows enough to find me, but I can’t…” Martin rambled and he was able to get closer, or what he thought could have been closer.
“Just stay where you are, I’m here… I’m trying to find you, Martin,” Jon called out, seeing if he was closer, then maybe if he was close enough, he could be heard. Over and over, he thought this, but he still hadn’t found him. He pushed the frustration down, tried to see his way through the fog and to see more of Martin than just his fading shape.
“... Just don’t stop talking. You are Martin Blackwood, yes. Y-you-you didn’t choose to be here. Jon is coming. I am Martin Blackwood and I am not lonely anymore, I am not lonely anymore!” Martin exclaimed, his rambling becoming a tether to which Jon could almost physically grab as he finally felt that he could see where he was.
“I want to have friends, I- no, I have friends. I’m… I’m in love! I am in love, and I will not forget that, I will not forget that…” Jon could hear his voice with such clarity that when he called out his name again, he heard Martin call out his name in response. Hoping that meant he could hear him, he called his name again.
“Jon? J-jon, over here!” Martin called to him, and he almost cried in relief when he could almost see him. The waves washed away the feelings of The Lonely’s effects that were trying to take hold of him. He was so close to him now that he felt that he needed only a few more steps.
“Oh! Martin, hold on, I-I’m coming. I just-” Jon spoke, finding that he only needed those few more steps and then he could see Martin, sitting in the fog, “Oh, Martin. Thank God, I was, I-I thought you were behind me.”
“I thought you’d left me behind, gone on without me,” Martin admitted, looking into the man’s eyes and feeling him staring right back and answering without hesitation, “No! No, never. I just- I didn’t want to look too hard, I promised I wouldn’t know you- and with the fog and with all the rooms, I just- I lost you… I’m sorry,” Jon rambled, seeing the man relax and shake his head, telling him that it was okay.
“No, I tried to use the- to know where you were, but it was- you were- you were faint. It was so strange. It took me so long just to find you,” Jon rambled again, unable to stop as he now felt that he wasn’t faint anymore. He was there again.
“Jon it’s okay,” He reassured yet again, looking at the thick fog and seeing it creep around the two almost like a blanket that had no end, “I promise that it’s okay. This place tried, it really did, and honestly I- I wanted to believe it. But I didn’t,” He confidently told Jon, knowing that he felt lonely because of where he was, not because he was actually lonely. Jon was here, and he found him again.
“This place, i-it. My God…” He started to say, Martin agreeing with him. “M-martin, if you… did, i-if you wanted to forget, all of it. Stay here and just… escape. I-I would understand,” Jon told him, deep down knowing that it would hurt to lose him, but he knows the pain he’s been through.
Since the institute, and even before, he had seen bits and pieces when he didn’t have a handle on controlling whether he knew something or not. Despite loving him, he would have to let him go if he wanted to stay, he would trek the way to London proper on his own and he would have to be okay with that.
“No. It’s comforting here, leaving all those painful memories behind, but… it’s not a good comfort, it’s a- it’s the kind that makes you fade, makes you dim and distant,” Martin explained, twiddling his thumbs and looking away as Jon stared at him. It was a vulnerable feeling, being all alone and then having him stare as if he was special. In the Eye of the Beholder, he guessed.
“Okay,” Jon sighed with relief in his voice, however subtle, “Okay, good. I-I just… I wanted to make sure you knew what this place was,” Jon whispered, taking a step closer toward the soft man and being face to face with him, almost.
“It’s The Lonely, Jon,” Martin told him, his voice bouncing off the walls, as if they hadn’t found this out for themselves separately. He did call after him, saying just that, “It’s me.”
“Not anymore,” Jon confidently spoke, Martin chuckling and agreeing as he stood, now truly face to face with him. “No, not anymore,” He told him, finding that looking into his eyes was comforting, maybe more comforting than The Lonely. He hoped to hold onto that feeling. Jon looked away, blushing and nodding as he looked and saw that the fog was retreating back through the open windows.
“Shall we? Now that we can both see,” Jon joked as he stepped aside to allow Martin to walk beside him, but he felt a hand around his arm before he could move to walk again. He looked to Martin, the translucent covering to his eyes leaving and his smile returning as he looked at him, making his face feel warm as he stood there.
“Lead the way,” Martin whispered, kissing his forehead and slowly letting go of his arm. Martin felt so cold to him, but he wasn’t able to think clearly as to if it was because he was warm, or if Martin was colder than him. He cleared his throat and nodded, pointing toward where he could see the door was, down some twisting halls.
“It should be that way.”
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(That’s not all folks, surprise. My brother reads my works and I asked what he would like to see in this Jmart oneshot, and he’s a sucker for the one bed trope, so albeit the dialogue above was accurate to MAG 170, we’re gonna get a little inaccurate of how they ended up sleeping at Salesa’s in MAG 181. This is for you, dude, I hope you enjoy, I wrote this at 11:30 pm, which has become very late for me… TMI but I need a shower and I’m doing this instead.)
“Well,” Salesa started on his grand reveal of his paradise away from the fears, but noticed his guests wavering and swaying, noting the countdown that had started as their bodies were to realize that they hadn’t slept in who knows how long, “That will have to wait, I’ll let Annabelle show you to where you will be staying.”
“Like I’d let a spider lead me right to her trap,” Jon griped as he felt his legs almost giving way to exhaustion, realizing that he didn’t have much time before it was to set in fully. Salesa tsked the tip of his tongue against his teeth, putting his glass down and pointing to the stairs.
“Second room to your right, I’ll see you two when you wake,” He told the two men, and they leaned on each other as they felt sleep trying to take them as they were standing, but as stubborn as they were, the two refused to collapse right there in the dining room. They were quick to attempt to climb the stairs before they were passed out on the floor, trying to suppress giggles that made it to their throats as they both stumbled and leaned against each other all the way to the second door to their right.
Martin took Jon’s arm, leaning against the wall and closing the door, sighing and almost slipping to the ground, which did all but make the both of them laugh as they tried to support each other.
“God, this is ridiculous, I haven’t been this exhausted in years,” Jon laughed, near delirium as he felt his mind and body swaying, looking to the bed and closed curtains. In the light that peeked through the red cloth of the curtain, he noticed one bed in the middle of the room, finding himself blushing and looking at Martin.
“Martin, there is one bed,” He whispered, as if it was a terrible secret, but all Martin did was chuckle as he turned toward Jon. His blue eyes were drooping, but his smile was unmoving and as wide as ever, almost looked as if he was drunk.
“We are about a minute or two from falling asleep on the floor, Jon. Besides, I have two reasons why that is a ridiculous thing to be thinking about; one, we are dating, and two, we literally shared a bed at the cabin,” Martin reasoned, pushing off the wall and walking toward the bed, stopping to offer his hand to the man slumped against the wall.
“Catch me if I fall?” Jon asked, preparing himself to push off the wall and try to walk to the bed. Martin nodded and offered his arms rather than his hand, ready to catch the smaller man if he were to fall. There was an attempt, and despite the both of them being equally tired, Martin caught him and brought him to the bed. He collapsed before he could catch himself, falling next to Jon and kicking his shoes off before climbing under the comforter.
“Shoes, Jon,” Martin told him, almost disappearing into the soft fluff of the bedding. Two small thuds could be heard before there was shuffling and the feeling of Jon’s body against Martin’s. Whereas Martin was covered in the bedding, Jon was swallowed into the man’s comforting body, sighing in exhaustion that was slowly taking away his ability to move.
“Comfortable?” Martin asked halfheartedly, his eyes already shutting on their own as his body relaxed against the cozy bed. “Foggy… But yes,” Jon sighed out, already half asleep as he held onto Martin, something he found comfort in even now. Martin let out a sound of acknowledgement as he passed out, holding onto Jon, letting himself briefly kiss his forehead before he succumbed to the grips of sleep. Something that the couple desperately needed, and now, they were safely in each other’s arms once again, curled up and without dreams.