Chapter Text
Jon woke up from an uncomfortable sleep curled up on the floor. Not for the first time, he wished that he still had the cot in his back room but it had been taken by one of the others. Ugh, the others. He sighed and sat up, stretching his achy limbs. Why did they even hate him so much? It’s not like he’d even done anything but suffer in a coma for six months and not die. And eat a few statements. Nothing big. It’s not like all the other archival staff were vegetarian and how was what he did to feed any ethically different?
But Melanie seemed to want him dead almost as much as she wanted Elias dead now and Basira kept eyeing him with such distrust he was starting to doubt himself. And Martin… Martin was ignoring him. He had to admit that was actually the hardest part of it all.
He missed Martin. Desperately. He didn’t know why, per say, but had woken up from his coma with the absolute certainty that he just absolutely had to tell Martin about his feelings for him. He’d been somewhat reluctant before the Unknowing - after all, he could have died and it was hardly the time to start up a fledgeling relationship - and if Martin hadn’t still felt the same it would have put him off his game in stopping the ritual. But somehow during his coma he’d just had this overwhelming feeling that Martin did feel the same and that he should go for it. Almost like he’d been there with him though he knew that was impossible. And yet… it’d now been months and he hadn’t had the chance.
Almost as if on queue, he heard footsteps in the hall and, with a faint burst of happy staticy surprise, he shakily got to his feet and flung open the door to see Martin. Martin turned to him, surprised to see him, and Jon turned to him, beaming.
“Martin! I’ve missed you so much!”
Martin stared at him and awkwardly tapped his feet.
“Martin, what’s wrong?” Jon tried to get through to him for the umpteen millionth time.
“I… I’m busy Jon. I’m sorry.”
“Because of Peter Lucas?”
“Yes.”
Jon gave it some thought. “I can take care of him for you, you know.” Jon’s voice carried a faint hint of malice and Martin turned shocked eyes to Jon’s.
“You… you wouldn’t…”
“He seems to be making you sad. I most definitely would.”
Martin wasn’t sure how to respond to this so he simply gave Jon an awkward smile and continued on his way. Jon began to plan Peter Lucas’ murder.
…
Basira saw Jon poring over books in the library and gave him a harsh look. “What are you doing in the library, Jon? Don’t you have some people to eat?”
Jon raised an eyebrow. “You did not just say what I think you did.”
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
Jon let out a sigh. He was really getting fed up with how everyone was treating him. Here he was, trying to do everyone a favor by taking out Peter Lucas - on an empty stomach without any in-person statements no less - and they were still being rude to him.
Jon grabbed the book he had been reading - a 5000 page transcript of a rather poorly written play by someone he could See had been trapped in the Lonely at the time of writing - and hurled it at Basira’s head. She barely ducked in time and stared at him in incredulity. “WTH Jon?!?!”
“I can throw another one if you like.” Jon’s voice was softly threatening. “I’m rather hangry these days for some reason and don’t have much patience.”
Basira let out an exasperated sigh and went to tell the others about how rude Jon was being. Jon watched her leave the library then walked over to the book on the floor and picked it up, flipping back to the page he’d been on which he simply Knew.
When he returned a couple hours later, Melanie was waiting for him in his office. “Basira told me you threw a book at her head.”
Jon was rather dismissive. “Yah, well, you threw a coffee mug at my head when I first came back. So whatever.” He punctuated this with a shrug and went to pick up his coat - he intended to buy himself an air mattress tonight to make sleeping in the archives just a bit more comfortable.
“It’s not “whatever!” Melanie grabbed Jon’s arm forcefully and glared straight into his eyes. “You are out of control Jon!”
Jon let out an unamused laugh. “Coming from you, that's just precious.”
Melanie drew back a hand and balled it into a fist. Jon raised an eyebrow and allowed himself a faint smirk, testing her. That wasn’t the best idea. The next thing he knew he was on the ground, groaning, his hand to his burning cheek. “WTH MELANIE?!?!”
Melanie just glared down at him. “That’s what you get.”
Jon felt petty. “You want to play with our Fear Powers, huh?”
Melanie looked at Jon with the faintest hint of fear in her voice, “What do you mean, Jon?”
Jon smirked bitterly. “Just saying, that’s probably not a fight you want to pick. Seeing as I’m full Avatar now and you’re just…” he quietly scoffed, “a has-been.”
Melanie opened her mouth in furious incredulity “WOW!”
Jon let out a bitter chuckle. “Just saying it like it is, Melanie.”
“I am so going to tell Georgie about this!”
Jon raised an eyebrow. “And what, that’s supposed to scare me or something? She knows who I am, Melanie. We’re ex, remember?”
Melanie simply glared at Jon, aiming a kick at him as she left the room. She mostly missed but did manage to catch the side of his shin and he let out a whimper. Melanie let out a snort of cruel amusement.
Static filled the air. “Trip over your own two feet.” Jon let out a bitter chuckle when he heard Melanie suddenly stumble and fall. He called out, “I warned you you don’t want to play that game with me, Melanie.”
Melanie let out a harsh growl, “You’re a monster, Jon.”
“I know.” He spat the words out, some venom in them. “As everyone here keeps telling me. And I’ve decided that if you’re all going to keep saying it I might as well get some enjoyment out of it.”