Chapter Text
Twenty-five year old Martin Blackwood was a lonely man. For a short while, he had a taste of what it felt like to not be lonely. More intentional time with his friends, getting closer with Sasha and Tim after working so closely, being laughed with instead of feeling laughed at. Until Prentiss. Until he was forced to stay in the Archives. Isolated. Forgotten. Pitied. Still, he tries to put a smile on at work for Sasha…even if things have been different. This morning, he huffs in frustration as he hears Jon try to return to work early…again. At least some things never change.
Tuesday, August 16th 2016, 1:43 pm
“Out!” Martin demands, getting up from his chair and grabbing Jon by his shoulders, physically turning him around. “Out, now.”
“Martin, this is absurd!” Jon argues, trying to resist against the man's strength as he’s pushed back towards the exit.
“No, I know Elias hasn’t approved your return, it’s too soon! You can barely walk still with that leg.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Fine, I’ll go to his office with you.”
Jon stops and turns around to look at Martin, trying to call his bluff. If he’s learned anything in the two weeks since the attack, it’s Martin’s tells. He’s been helping Jon at home, whether he wants it or not. “I know where you live.”
“Goodbye, Jon!” Jon rolls his eyes, making his way back up the stairs while Martin goes to sit again. He looks over at Sasha who hasn’t once looked up from her computer and waves a hand her way. “Earth to Sasha. Helloooo?”
She sighs and looks over at Martin, her expression unchanging. “Yes, Martin?”
“You alright? You didn’t even say hello to Jon.”
“He’s my boss. Not my friend.” she says like it’s obvious. “I didn’t have anything to say.”
Martin presses his mouth into a tight line, clearly feeling the tension Sasha has created. “Okay, nevermind.” he mutters, going back to his own work when Sasha immediately shuts off her computer. One perk from the attack was convincing Elias they should have actual computers set up so they don’t have to keep bringing their laptops. “Where are you going?”
“Field work. Don’t use my computer.”
“I won’t, geez…” Martin mutters, watching her leave without another word. He pulls his phone out to text Tim, smiling sadly at the photo of the grinning, goofy man pictured in his contact photo. Every time Martin has seen him since Prentiss he’s been exhausted or on pain meds, or a combination of the two.
Martin: I miss you. Sasha’s being suspicious again. Jon tried to come back…again.
I’m going mad.
Tim: I miss u too. Idk what’s going on with her, she’s only come to visit once. Idk what I did.
Melanie stopped over this morning to hang out and bring the biscuits ur landlady made. Tell her thank you for me pls. Wanna come hang later? M also brought some of Georgies special snacks.
Martin laughs and types out his response to say he’d come over after work with dinner before putting his phone away. He lets out a heavy sigh, looking around the archives. There are new shelves, statements that hadn’t been damaged were moved into new boxes to be sorted, and the holes that were in the walls of Jon’s office and document storage had been repaired. It was almost unsettling, how normal everything seemed to be again after such a horrific incident. He listens to the buzz of the fluorescent lights above him, missing Tim’s laugh and their banter to cover it up. He missed Jon talking to himself as he walked through the bullpen. He missed Sasha. Sure, they’d never been close, but he’d still considered her a friend…maybe not so much anymore. Maybe Prentiss got to her more than she was letting on. Not feeling like sitting around any more doing nothing, he reaches for a new statement to research, hoping to have a decent stack ready for Jon to record when he’s ready to return.
5:52 pm
After what Martin figures is close to two hours of work, he hears footsteps from behind him and turns around expecting to see Sasha, but is met with Elias standing in the entryway. His eyes widen a bit and he quickly stands and faces him. “Elias, hi, what ah- what can I do you-do for–” he stops and takes a quick second to compose himself, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes briefly. “I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard. Was there something you needed?”
“Not specifically. I was just checking to see how it was going down here but I see Sasha isn’t here?” he says.
“No, she just said she was going to do field work and hasn’t come back yet.” Martin says, trying to ignore his heart pounding.
“Well, I suspect she’s gone home by now. I saw you were working late and thought maybe she was as well.”
“Working late, what–?” Martin looks over to the clock on the wall, seeing it was coming up on 6 o’clock. “Oh, crap.”
“Am I keeping you?” Elias asks, raising an eyebrow at the suddenly panicked man.
“I-no, I didn’t realise what time it was. I made plans to visit Tim, I just…screwed up.” he sighs, pulling his phone out to text Tim that he was packing up.
“Yes, how is Tim?”
“He’s…having a hard time. So is Jon. I think he’s about to go mad.”
“I thought I saw him walking out of the building today. Do you know anything about that?”
Martin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “He’s tried to come back twice already. He’s insane.”
“Good lord…does that man ever do as he’s told?” Elias huffs. “Either way, it seems things are going well since your return. I’ll leave you to it.” he nods, turning to leave before Martin speaks up.
“Wait, Elias.” Martin says, wringing his hands anxiously. Elias pauses and turns to look at Martin again. “Why did you think Sasha would still be here if it’s past close?”
“Well, I saw you were still here and usually the group of you leave together, or at least don’t leave any of you here alone. I suppose I assumed you’d leave together as usual.”
“Oh, we…we haven’t since coming back to work.” Martin explains. Did I always leave with someone? I can’t…I can’t remember. It’s been so long at this point. Jon would stay late so often. So Tim, me…Sasha must have stayed with Jon or always left first…I don’t remember.
“Ah, I see. Well, good night, Martin. Please go home.” he says as he turns to leave again. Martin sighs and gathers his things, heading out and shutting the lights off behind him. He gets a few stairs up when he hears quick footsteps in the bullpen. He freezes, eyes wide in fear. He slowly turns to look behind him, hands shaking.
“H-Hello?” he calls. He waits. No answer. “Elias? Is that you?”
He waits.
No answer.
“Is someone there? The Archives are off limits…the building is closed.”
He waits.
Footsteps, getting closer.
“Oh shitshitshit–” he runs up the stairs and out of the Archives, quickly slamming the door behind him and locking it from the outside. “Ghosts aren’t real, there’s not a secret murderer down there…you’re hallucinating. You’re losing it, Blackwood after all these years…” he mutters to himself as he practically runs out of the building.
Martin lets himself into Tim’s building, Tim having given him a key when Martin insisted on helping him after the incident. He takes the lift up, walking to Tim’s door and knocking before letting himself in. “Hi! Sorry I’m late, I totally lost track of time.” he says as he takes his shoes off. “Food is on the way I figured I’d have it delivered so I didn’t have to make another stop.” He places his shoes by the door, seeing a familiar pair of beat up boots and grinning. He rushes to the living room and sees Melanie already sitting with Tim and lights up. “It’s you!”
The pair had only seen each other once since Prentiss, with Martin being so caught up in helping care for his friends, and that was just her stopping over briefly the day after the incident to make sure he was alright before he insisted he go back to sleep, and that he needed time. Going from seeing each other multiple times a week, to maybe 5 times in a short handful of months was a huge shift, and he’d be lying if he wasn’t afraid Melanie had realised she was fine without him around.
“It’s me!” she laughs, pushing herself up and lunging off of the couch towards Martin and throwing her tiny frame against him. Martin holds her tight and squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to cry. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” he whispers into her hair, clutching her shirt in white knuckled fists.
“Do you still need time?” she asks.
“I think I’ve had enough.” he laughs, pulling away with tears streaming down his face but his smile not faltering. “You have no idea how much I missed you…”
“Well let’s not waste anymore time, alright?” Melanie smiles, dragging him back into the room.
*****
12:04 am
Jon takes the keycard out of his pocket, scanning it at the door and letting himself inside. Somehow, by some stroke of luck, he found a keycard for one of the cleaning staff dropped right on the stairs that lead down to the front door of the building from the inside. Even luckier, they have access to the whole building, something only Elias has. He closes the door quietly behind him, looking around the building and listening for any sign of life.
He takes his steps cautiously, not sure who else would be here but not wanting to take the risk. Jon gets to the Archives and flips the light on. He waits a moment before calling, “Hello?” he listens and looks around, hoping no one decided to work an insanely late night. “Anyone here? I-It’s just me…” he says, stepping further in and looking around the bullpen. He walks around to Martin and Sasha’s computers, putting his hand on the back to see if they were still warm from being on.
Cold.
They were gone. Of course they were gone.
He walks quickly to his office, freezing at the threshold. He takes it all in a moment. No dead worms, the smell is gone… wow, they painted. The grey is better than the white, actually. His eyes fall to the floor, looking where the trapdoor should be…where it is. Thank goodness Sasha had marked it with caution tape. He walks over, feeling around the edge for– there. He presses down and a small wooden handle flips up from the floorboard. He goes to pull it and it rattles, but doesn’t open. “What the-” he looks down, seeing a keyhole and letting his head fall. “Dammit,” he whispers to himself. He takes a moment to think…can the lock be picked? Maybe, but more trouble than it’s worth. Jon stands back up, fingers tangled in his hair as he thinks. Where would key copies be…maintenance? They wouldn’t need to be down there…maybe Elias…
He hesitates, wondering if it’s worth risking his job over and, well… I’ll never know if I don’t try.
Jon heads back up the stairs and to Elias’ office, standing in front of the intimidating door. The carvings were beautiful, changing designs the whole way through while still looking like they belong together. He takes a deep breath before reaching out to grab the handle and turn it slowly. He feels a heavy sensation, like he’s being watched and turns around quickly to find–
Nothing. No one.
His heart pounds in his chest, quickly opening the office door and slipping in before swiftly, but quietly, closing it again. “Alright, now, if I were a suspicious key…where would Elias keep me?” Jon walks over to Elias’ desk expecting the drawers to be locked but, to his surprise, were open. He starts going through the drawers carefully, one by one, making sure nothing is left out of place. Finally, in the bottom left drawer, a key ring. He lets out an anxious breath and looks up at the door to make sure no one was coming and quickly slides the key labeled ‘tunnels’ off of the ring. He places the ring back and triple checks nothing is out of place before sliding out of the office once again and back to the Archives.
Back at the trapdoor, Jon puts the key in the lock and turns, actually surprised it worked as he hears a loud click. He lifts the door and just stares in the dark passages for a moment, feeling a bit nauseous. “Okay…you can do this. You have to do this.” he says to himself. He grabs the torch he brought from the inside pocket of his jacket and flips the switch, shining it down the stairs as he begins his descent. He should’ve known what to expect. He’d been down here, seen the unforgiving darkness…but he had Martin, and Tim, and it hadn’t seemed so completely dark then. He doesn’t feel as bold on his own, but he shoves the fear aside as his need for answers is much more intense.
12:32 am
“I came from…which way?” Jon mutters to himself over the pounding of his heart, looking around the pitch black tunnels. The total absence of any light besides his torch was almost dizzying. How am I already turned around? He lets out a slow breath and picks a direction to walk again, doing his best to memorize the differences in the corridors to find his way back. Stupid. It was stupid to come alone…
He doesn’t know what he expects to find, though the rooms without doors and doors that lead to nothing make him even more confused. Even in the panic and chaos of the attack, he has a feeling the hallways are…different, maybe? He continues his exploration, noting the difference in construction in different areas. He stops, reaching out to touch the wall when he hears movement down the hall behind him. Jon lets out a gasp and snaps the torch light behind him, eyes wide with fear as he slowly looks around. “H-Hello? Who’s there?” he calls. He waits a moment with no response, his hands shaking. It was probably nothing…or a rat.
Jon shakes his head, trying not to think too hard about anything he was hearing and continuing his journey. Walking through the dead worms was more distressing than he’d anticipated, not thinking that the clean up crew wouldn’t want to enter further than necessary. The adrenaline coursing through him was preventing him from noticing how hard he’s pushing, his leg and some various wounds spread across him not appreciating his excursion.
Beginning to get nervous about becoming properly lost, he tries to find his way back to the door to get back to the Archives. He realises after a few minutes- he doesn’t recognise anything he swore he passed earlier. His search becomes more frantic and less calculated, desperate for any sign of familiarity when he turns his light to find something familiar, but not what he was hoping. It looked like the scene Tim had described…the worms trying to create a doorway. It was massive and a nauseating sight, though Jon’s eyes were wide with wonder.
“What on earth…” he says to himself, slowly moving his light around to examine the scene which included a sea of worms on the ground in front of the wall. He works the courage up to make his way through the shriveled corpses, slowly reaching his hand out to touch the warped stone. The wall is soft, and Jon shudders as he rips his hand away and shakes it before roughly wiping it on his coat. “Oh, that’s disgusting…” he huffs, freezing when he thinks he hears something again. He considers calling out again, but knows now that maybe that wouldn’t be smart.
He finally decides to abandon ship and tries his hardest to begin navigating back to the trap door, willing himself to not panic as he continues getting turned around or hitting dead ends. Finally, he finds it. With any strength he could muster, he throws himself up the stairs. With shaky hands he tries to unlock it but continuously loses his grip from the sweat on his hands. When the lock clicks, he forces himself up and falls onto the floor. Jon was panting heavily, vision blurred from the physical exertion but seeing clearly the blood dripping down his arms from some reopened wounds, feeling wet spots on his pant leg as well.
It takes a couple minutes for Jon to snap out of it, swiftly shutting the door and locking it again before replacing the caution tape. He just had to get out now and hope that there wasn’t any blood on the floor. He pushes himself up with a pained groan, making his way out of the Archives as quickly as possible with his worsening limp. Once he makes his way out of the building, he stops to catch his breath. Once he feels calm enough, he takes one last deep breath before putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a somehow-not-crushed pack of Marlboro Reds and pulled out a cigarette. He holds it delicately between his lips while he digs around for his lighter. Pulling out the heavy, golden Zippo, he finally lights it, beginning his walk to the tube home.
4:26 am
Jon quietly unlocks the front door of the house before sliding inside, not picking his feet up all the way to, hopefully, not disturb Martin. He can’t know he’s looking around on his own. He gets to his flat's door and slides inside silently before kicking his shoes off and stumbling to his room. Jon has to hold himself up on the wall to stay upright before collapsing onto the bed, asleep before his head even hits the pillow.
Wednesday, August 17th 8:42 am
Martin walks into work with heavy feet, exhausted from the previous night. He’d been up until at least two in the morning with Melanie, talking, laughing, and properly catching up on (mostly) Melanie’s life. Martin helped fill in the gaps of the whole story for her, Tim’s memory spotty from the gas and the edible he took before crashing on the couch. They held hands over Martin’s chest as he lied on the floor with his head on her lap, waking up in the same position. His back hurt, his neck was killing him, but it was the first he’s felt truly happy since the attack…maybe longer.
He sees Sasha already at her desk working, trying to keep it down to not disturb her but still greeting her with a soft “Good morning.” She turns to Martin and stares at him for just a moment, Martin furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head. “You alright?”
“Yes.” she nods, letting out a sigh before meeting Martin’s eyes. “I want to apologise.”
Martin blinks at Sasha and shakes his head gently. “I-what for?”
“I have not been…kind. Or patient, since the attack. You three got the worst of it, really, and you’ve handled being back at work better than I have. I’m sorry I’ve not been more understanding, and I hope we can still be friends.”
Martin doesn’t respond for a moment before realising he’s just staring in disbelief. He finally coughs and nods quickly, letting a hint of a smile show. “Oh, yeah! I mean, it’s-it’s alright, I didn’t think, ah…well, yes, I’d like that, Sasha.” he answers happily. “Hey, look…Tim misses you. I don’t know if something happened between you guys again but you’ve at least always been close. You should give him a call.”
Sasha nods and smiles back at Martin, just enough to tell it is a smile. “I will.”