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Eye Strain

Summary:

Gwen just returned from her meeting with Ink5oul, with a new tattoo in toe.

She can’t help but feel odd, like something in her is changing. She ends up at a small old cafe in the middle of the night where she ends up speaking with a very strange man, with eyes that see too much.

Notes:

So, I had been thinking about if Gwen ended up with a tattoo from Ink5oul what would it look like. An eye naturally.

This ended up being an exploration into Gwen’s potential as the next Archivist, or Archivist adjacent creature. (We all heard her compel Ink5oul)

I decided to fuck with potential cannon and make her and Jon have a conversation about The Eye (not directly).

I just wanted an excuse to right Jon and Gwen speaking about their issues with needing to Know.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Gwen felt sick.

She wasn’t surprised, not really. Ever since Bonzo, no maybe even before, when she saw the video of Lena, Gwen had been feeling this strange wrongness.

The pulsing pain on the back of her neck flared back up. Gwen whimpered and held her shaking hand to it. Ink5oul had done a number on her, whatever they had decided to brand unto her skin burned and itched like hell. Sitting up in her bed Gwen reached for the burn ointment she had bought immediately after regaining consciousness.

She rubbed it on the point between her shoulder blades, right on the notch of her spine. Gwen tried once again to try and feel out what it was that Ink5oul had put on her, but whatever arcane or occult or whatever the hell they used, did not leave raised skin like a traditional tattoo would.

Sighing in defeat, Gwen got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. After washing her face of all tears, and applying cold water to the tattoo, Gwen looked up to face her reflection.

It was…well it was definitely different.

Her sandy blonde hair had lost any shine, instead it was dry and resembled a rat’s nest more than her traditional shoulder length cut. The bags under her eyes brought out her natural green in an almost unnatural way. She was getting thinner too, not too much, but enough that when her parents visited next week for their traditional monthly get together, although as the years went on it felt more like an interrogation on why Gwen had yet to meet their expectations, they would surely comment on it.

The longer she stared, the more things she picked up. Had her left earlobe always been that big, her eyebrows weren’t even, and she even saw that the scar from the nose piercing she had had as a teen was still visible. Gwen shock her head and threw more water on her face.

When did this start?? Was it Ink5oul, Bonzo, Lena?? Gwen tried to think back to when it all started. Her eyes began to itch and she needed to blink or else she might start crying again. She could not deal with the vulnerability, and with the reaction from Sam and Alice, Collin’s general demeanor, no one at work would understand. Celia might, but frankly Gwen didn’t trust her, something felt off with her, like she was never being completely honest.

Gwen returned to her bed, feeling just as, if not more tired than when she left. She looked to her phone on the night stand, and for not the first time she considered calling Elias and asking if he was willing to share. She hadn’t smoked in years, but she really needed a release.

“A walk, some coffee, that’ll clear my head.”

***
Gwen liked London at night. She didn’t used to, but so much had been changing in her life she wasn’t remotely surprised.

She wasn’t headed anywhere particular, she was just following wherever her feet took her. The tattoo on her neck pulsed again. Gwen bit her lip and tried to ignore it.

Something Ink5oul had said was still bouncing around in her head. Their story had been so dense in details Gwen’s head ached trying to remember it all, but a few parts stood out. Their fear and confusion about what they were becoming, the way it had wafted off them in waves as they spilled their story to Gwen, and the way they described the high they got from the fear in their client’s eyes before they went under.

It had been far too easy to imagine it, far easier than Gwen thought possible. Something inside her had perked up at the thought, the thought that someone would draw such fear from others. It was horrible, it was terrifying, it was….fulfilling? No that was the wrong word, satisfying, like after eating a good meal.

Gwen shuddered at her own thoughts, looking around for something to distract her. There! A small quaint cafe. Gwen tried not to look like she was running into it.

The place was small, an old place by the look of the walls and wood work. At this point in night, —or morning? She didn’t know— there were very few customers. Only a barista behind the counter lazily scrolling through their phone, and a small frail man curled in the corner booth.

“How can I help you?” The barista drawled, looking for all the world like they would rather be anywhere else.

“One tea please, earl grey ,no sugar.” Gwen hadn’t thought about tea, she usually drank coffee at work. Hopefully it would help her nerves.

Gwen sat in one of the comfy looking chairs near the back of the cafe. Her mind was racing, her neck ached, and every so often she swore she could hear that damn song.

Bonzo’s here. He’s here to play. He’s here to stay.

Gwen shook her head, her fingers clinging to the table’s edge. Someone put a teacup on her table, Gwen jumped.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Gwen looked up to see a man standing before her. He looked terrible, even by London standards. His long black hair was greying, falling like a curtain over his sunken face. His skin was covered in scars, some small and circular, another long and nasty over his throat. The hand hovering over her tea looked almost like the skin had been burned. “The barista had called your name and you hadn’t responded. Are you alright?”

“Don’t worry. It’s been a long day.” Gwen rubbed her temples before taking a sip of her tea. The persistent itch in her eyes grew worse. Gwen had expected the man to leave, he hadn’t yet. “Look I don’t have any money.”

The man cocked his head oddly. “I didn’t ask for any.”

Gwen scoffed. “You clearly look like you need it.” Perhaps she could have been more tactful, but she had no energy to.

The man looked down to himself before chuckling. There was something about his voice that was almost familiar, although Gwen knew she had never met this man before.
“I forget what I must look like to normal people.” Bonzo’s horrible mangeled face flashed before her eyes.

“Ive seen worse.” She grumbled.

“Im sure you have.” The itch in Gwen’s eyes was getting worse, the need to Look at this man, to do what she still did not know. Gwen took a drink from her tea like it was a shot before rubbing her palms into her eyes.

“Urgh, this is getting by ridiculous.” She groaned. The man looked like he wanted to ask something, but he stopped himself.

“I’m not crazy by the way, I know I must look it, sitting here mumbling to myself, talking to a complete stranger like I know him.”

The man let out a soft sigh. “If it’s any consolation, I understand. The feeling that there is something going on, but it’s just far enough away that you can’t reach it. I think thats what IT likes about us.” The last part was said much quieter, like it wasn’t meant for her to hear.

“What do you mean?” This man knew something, Gwen could feel it. Was he another external? He didn’t seem like it, while the others she had met had something very clearly off about them, even Lady Mobury. This man wasn’t that, he didn’t fill Gwen’s body with fear, he didn’t set her nerves alight. Instead he felt almost comforting? Like the feeling of meeting an old friend after many many years.

The man shivered. “IT had already gotten quite the hold on you hasn’t it? It took me almost two years to be able to compel properly, and yet you are already able to.”

Gwen was getting so fucking tired of cryptic bullshit. “Compel? What-?” Gritting her teeth she spat. “Will someone please tell me what’s happening? I’m just so ugh so tired of not knowing whats happening. A few weeks ago I was filing papers in a shitty civil service job, now I’m meeting fucking murderous flesh suits and deranged tattoo artists! It’s just— so much to deal with. I didn’t want this you know? I just wanted a better position, something my parents would be proud of! Instead I’m gonna end up like Elias or worse.” Gwen let it all out, her frustration, anxiety, and fear all in one go. Finally she raised her head to properly see the face of this man she had decided to unload on.

Gwen’s breath caught. His, this man’s eyes, they were… glowing. The unearthly green pulsed underneath his long hair. That on its own would be unsettling, but that wasn’t just it. There was a familiarity to it, one she had started to notice in the mirror every so often.

“Who….” She trailed off. He was looking at her now, and god that was a horrible feeling. She felt like a bug under a microscope, only she could see the scientist as he cut her open to see how she ticked. Then it was gone, replaced by a deep sadness.

“Believe me I understand. Buts that how IT gets you. IT leaves trails of breadcrumbs for you to follow until you are too far gone to turn back. When you asked that person, the tattoo artist, to explain themselves. How did it feel? To pull their story from them without them even knowing what happened? Did you feel a rush if power? a feeling of satisfaction? Fear at what you could do?” The man’s green eyes burned into her, the tattoo was burning her neck but she could not tear her eyes away from this man, creature, something in between.

Gwen swallowed as she answered. “Yes I did.” The creeping worry that had been started from after speaking with Ink5oul had finally collected itself into a clear feeling. If something like that could happen to them, could it happen to me. The answer seemed to be, yes.

“Believe me, you aren’t too far gone. You don’t need to end up like me.” He gestured to his burned and scarred body. “Just let it go. Please. You are a smart woman, there is so much more you can do than this.” The man was less warning her and more pleading. His green eyes were wide and vulnerable, tears were threatening to spill over his sharp cheekbones.

Gwen wanted to listen, she really did, but something inside her would not let her. Perhaps it was new power that was likely inhabiting her, or it was her own fear of being exactly what her parents thought she was, a washout, a failure.

The man reached his hand, the non-burned one, out to her, his fingers resting on her own. “I don’t know what they want from you, what your boss or these powers have in store this time, but please, be careful. You will always have a choice, your friends don’t have to die.” His words struck her. Lena had warned her about bringing externals into the office, and Collin -who knew a lot more then he seemed- was losing it. Perhaps she should think carefully about her next moves.

“I- thank you. I will take your advice,” She had started like she should know his name, but didn’t.

“Jon.” He smiled at her. Gwen wonders if he needed this more than she did.

The bell on the café’s door rang and a tall large man with white streaked strawberry blond hair and glasses entered. Gwen could not understand why she saw slight fog rolling off him, like the ocean on a cold morning. The man, Jon, smiled when he saw him. It was so fond and loving that Gwen felt a painful stab at her own lonliness.

“I must go but, please. Be careful,” as he stood up Gwen saw his eyes trail to the tattoo Ink5oul left her with. “And try to be careful with your externals, the more marks the worse things get.” And with that, Jon walked away, grabbing the larger man’s hand as they left the cafe.

Gwen looked down to her finished tea. She trailed her fingers over the tattoo on her neck. This time she could imagine it clearly, an ornate green eye, with swirling intricate designs in the pupil.

Gwen pulled out her phone and called Elias.

Notes:

Gwen does end up smoking weed with Elias and crying about life.