Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jon pressed the stop button on the tape, breathing a sigh and frowning. The statement he’d just finished reading was maybe the most absurd yet.

A man had approached a woman, as she was playing a game on her laptop in an otherwise empty cafe, and began to talk to her unprompted about the game and a barely related scandal she had never heard of. The woman had also noted that the man had an American accent.

He’d gone on and on, talking directly to her, and despite her annoyance, she’d been unable to just simply get up and leave. When the man had finished regaling her with his story, three hours had passed. He’d stood up, taken off his hat, and bowed, thanking her for listening. The woman had described in her statement that the man had a small pair of wings on his head that had been previously hidden.

He slid the transcript of her verbal statement aside and breathed out, picking himself up from his desk. It was just past lunch and he was getting a bit peckish. With it being past lunch, he was hoping the break room would be empty.

He gave a nod of acknowledgement towards Tim and Sasha as he passed them on the way, noting that he hadn’t seen Martin, and really hoping that he was just somewhere else and that he wasn’t on the break room. He really did hate taking his breaks with another person. As he pushed the door open into the break room, he prepared himself to see the burden of a man, but instead found himself very pleased that he wasn’t within.

He did, however, pause in the doorway, hand still on the door, when he spotted a man he’d never seen before. Their eyes locked and Jon felt frozen in place at his stare and his bright green eyes. The man blinked and Jon felt like he’d snapped out of a trance. He shook his head and stepped into the room, letting the door close behind him. The man smiled.

He had light brown hair that might pass for dirty blond and wore a simple brown hat over top. He has in what looked like quite a comfy brown knitted sweater with an owl pattern and baggy bleached jeans. Dangling from his ears were two large earrings, expensive looking light blue jewels shaped like tear drops. Jon pursed his lips. The man was holding a cup of tea, with a cup Jon recognized came from the break room,

“Hello-“

“Can I help you?” Jon asked, not caring for the niceties the stranger might have. The man’s smile faltered,

“Yes, I was just about to go looking for the head Archivist,” American. Great. Jon huffed, pushing past the man to grab the kettle, still hot. Presumably from the man having just made some tea. He grabbed a tea bag and made his own cup, biting back any comments on his accent,

“That would be me,” Jon grumbled, pulling the tea bag out of the hot water and tossing it into the trash. The man’s expression brightened,

“Wonderful. It’s amazing to meet you, then, Jonathan Sims. I’m Fredrik Knudsen,” The man, Fredrik Knudsen, held his hand out. Jon ignored that he hadn’t introduced himself. He’d probably heard his name and title but didn’t know the face to it.

Jon glanced at the outstretched hand and then looked back up to him. For some reason, Jon was having trouble meeting his eyes, and he couldn’t place why, or what was so different about him,

“I work at the Usher Foundation. We’re a sister organization to the Magnus Institute. We operate in America, as I’m sure you could tell from my accent,” Jon hummed, barely acknowledging.

It wasn’t just his accent, it was that he had a strange cadence to his speaking. It wasn’t quite flat, but it had a strange lilt to it that Jon struggled to put a finger to. In a way, he was almost reminded of the transatlantic accent, but it wasn’t the same. His accent was undeniably American, but the way his sentences flowed when he spoke them, it was unique in a way Jon wasn’t sure how to describe.

He absently stirred his tea, dashing the thoughts. He had no reason to ruminate on the man’s accent or way of speaking, it did not concern him at all,

“I could,” Jon humoured, taking a sip from his tea and leaning against the counter. Fredrik smiled warmly, taking a sip of his own tea but keeping his eyes trained on him,

“Well, anyway, I’m just visiting because I need to cross reference a few cases. I won’t be in your hair for long so don’t pay me any mind. You’ve got greatness to achieve,” And with that, Fredrik had turned with a wink, smiling one last time. Strange man.

Jon had not been notified of his arrival nor had he received notice in advance, but only certain personnel were allowed access to the Archives so clearly, the man was where he was supposed to be.

Jon sighed, picking up his tea and taking it with him to sit down at the one table in the small break room. He’d need to look into the Usher Foundation, when he next had free time. He hoped he’d never see Fredrik again. Somewhere else in the room, a tape recorder clicked off on its own.

The Hunger gnawed at him. It’d been crawling up his throat for weeks and he’d tried ignoring it, like the fool he was, and now it was impossible to deny. He sat, on the dirty ground outside in the far end of an alleyway, gritting his teeth, begging that no one would turn down it. Especially not one with a Statement.

He felt the static behind his eyes as a persistent tingle and he knew that if he were to unclench his hands, then eyes on his palms would open to take in more of the world around him. He’d attempted to squeeze his eyes shut, but his eyelids refused to cooperate. He couldn’t even blink. His eyes stung, and his brain screamed at him to get his fill of fear.

He’d promised Basira he wouldn’t prey on people and that he’d stick to written statements to feed and damn it, he wanted to keep that promise. He knew he didn’t have her trust and he really did not want to make it even worse, and yet, there he was, holding himself close against a brick wall in a dark alleyway at six in the morning.

Pathetic.

He couldn’t even take his unblinking gaze away from the alleyway entrance. It was why he’d panicked, seeing a figure turn down where he was. He scrambled up to his feet, words dying in his throat as he frantically shook his head and waved his hands, trying to gesture for the figure to not approach. As they came into view, walking ever so calmly, Jon paused, and stopped. Had he been able to blink, he would’ve. It was the American man from a few years ago, from the Usher Foundation. Fredrik Knudsen. Jon might not have recognized him if it weren’t for those blue earrings that stood out against his wildly different outfit.

He looked like he’d stepped out of a fantasy film, dressed in gold jewelry draped over a brown cloak. He wore an off-white silk shirt underneath and similarly flowing silk pants that gathered at his ankles, where he was wearing elegant and expensive looking brown slippers. He was still wearing a hat, though this one was also an off-white colour to match his under clothes.

Fredrik raised a hand, giving a small smile and stopping a few feet away from Jon,

“Hello there,”

“F-Fredrik…” Jon managed to choke out despite his painfully dry throat. Fredrik pursed his lips, his brows furrowing,

“Here’s a deal. You call me Fred instead of Fredrik, I’ll call you Jon instead of Archivist,” Jon choked on a breath, stumbling against the wall out of shock. Fredrik, or rather Fred, raised a brow,

“You-“

“Yes, I know what you are,” Jon coughed, and he felt the static behind his eyes begin to take root in his chest, slowly rising, “To be frank, you do not have a bright future ahead of you. I just want to make it at least a little bit easier for you,”

“I don’t want to be a monster,” Fred sighed, closing his eyes. His even breathing stilled for just a moment and then Fred opened his eyes to stare back at him again,

“Too late for that, Jon. I’m sorry,” He breathed out, his voice quiet. He carefully reached up and tugged his hat off.

For a moment, Jon had thought maybe he was seeing things or just that the man had two piece of hair that stood up. But then they flapped and ruffled, and Jon couldn’t deny his vision and how he was seeing that Fred had a pair of small wings atop his head,

“Word of advice, Jon. When you taste a Statement in the air,” Fred began. Jon gulped. He could feel his eyes starting to water, but couldn’t bring himself to wipe them away, “Follow it. You need to become comfortable with feeding on fear. If you won’t induce fear yourself, you need to leech off a different entity’s fear. Follow a Statement, by god, Jon, do not starve yourself,” His voice faltered at the end, nearly cracking.

Were Jon more of a fool, he might almost think that Fred was actually worried for him. He took in a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and then nodded shakily. Fred frowned. His wings idly flapped in the small breeze as he tilted his head,

“Good luck. Please be careful. Stay curious and continue to learn. You’ll become an excellent Watcher,” And then without another word, just like that, Fred had turned, pulling his hat back on, and leaving him alone.

Jon blinked. His body was letting him blink. Oh god, he wasn’t shaking anymore. He could taste a Statement in the air, out of the alley and a few blocks down. The static on his tongue was tantalizing and he replayed Fred’s words of advice. He didn’t need to tell Basira. She didn’t need to know. It was one love Statement. It wouldn’t hurt. He was Hungry.

“Mikaele!” Jon startled, turning to the man in question, eyes widened. A few extra eyes split open on his cheeks which he didn’t have the energy to force closed. Mikaele sucked in a breath,

“Someone else lives here?!” Martin grit out, brows furrowed with anger. Mikaela shook his head,

“Living room, Fred!” Jon stilled at the name, glancing to Martin. He thought he recognized the voice but he didn’t want to be so sure.

And there he was, stood in the doorway, eyes wide, dressed exactly the same as he was last time Jon saw him. Fredrik Knudsen,

“Hey, uh… Fancy seeing you here, huh? Long time no see,” Fred greeted, raising a hesitant hand,

“Long time no- Was he someone you met in America, Jon?” Martin asked from where he was sat next to him on the couch. Jon shook his head, about to answer Martin, when Fred stepped into the room and he had to do a double take instead, his words dying on his lips.

The man had a pair of human sized wings sprouting from his back, folding neatly close to back. Fred smiled, taking a seat next to Mikaele, his lips pressed tightly together. He shuffled in his seat,

“No, not at all. I’m another Eye avatar. We only met twice. First time was more of a coincidence in all honesty, second time, I sought him out to give some pointers on being an avatar,” Fred answered instead. Martin blinked once, twice, and then furrowed his brows,

“But you have wings? You’re- You’re a bird man!” Martin gestured towards Fred, his tone incredulous and disbelieving. Fred only shrugged. Mikaele sipped his tea silently, no input to add,

“Eye avatars come in all shapes and sizes, what can I say? For what it’s worth, these wings-“ Fred turned in his seat, outstretching one of the wings to show it off briefly before sitting back like normal, “Are a new addition as a result of the successful ritual. Good job on that, by the way,”

“Wha-“

“Martin.” Jon interrupted, holding his hand up. Martin pouted, crossing his arms dramatically. Jon felt a pang of fondness, “We’re trying to find a way to reverse it. Would you happen to know of any way to-“ Jon trailed off, watching as Fred shook his head,

“Sorry. I like you, Jon, and I liked the world before this, but this is just… It’s so nice. I won’t stop you, but I won’t help you. Leave me to bask in the fear in peace and I won’t be an issue,” Jon didn’t even need to look at Martin to know he was seriously biting his tongue. Instead, he turned his gaze to Mikaele,

“You house him?” He asked. Fred also turned his gaze to Mikaele as he answered with a dismissive hand wave,

“He’s a nice guy. Can’t say I trust him, but…” Mikaele side eyed the other Eye avatar briefly, “He’s not really all too malicious, especially for an avatar. If he says he’ll stay out of your way, then he will,” Fred grinned,

“Thank you for the vouch,” Mikaele raised a brow in his direction, taking another sip of tea, “Let me get out of your hair, I’m clearly unwanted. You won’t ever see me again, alright? If you encounter a statement about an insane rambling man, just pretend it was someone else, okay? Okay,”

Fred said frantically, his words slurring at his fast pace. He then gave a thumbs up, standing up from his seat and slowly backed out of the room, like he was running from a stalking predator. Jon could feel Martin’s glare, no spooky Eye powers needed, harden onto Fred as he then dashed out of the house once he passed the threshold of the door to the living room. Jon let out a long sigh,

“As you were saying, Mikaele?” He prompted. Seemingly shaken from his thoughts, Mikaele startled, turning back to face Jon and Martin,

“Sorry about him,” Jon shook his head,

“As you were saying?”

“Right, of course. As I was saying,”

THUNK

Jon startled, turning from where he was immersed with grading papers to look to his window, where a large owl was sat on the windowsill, pecking at the window. Jon blinked, and then carefully stood up. He knew the Fears had followed him and Martin into Somewhere Else and he’d suspected that eventually their past would come to haunt them, but this was a rather… Unique way of contacting him, even by avatar standards.

He approached the window and the owl jumped back so he could open the window. As soon as it was open enough, the owl flew in and perched on his desk, cooing gently. Even pulling for the Eye to answer him, Jon could not identify it. By his own sparse recollection of owls, it maybe closest resembled a barn owl, though its feathers were much too fluffy and it was much too white, if he remembered correctly,

“Hello?” He hazarded, a careful brow raised. He didn’t approach the owl, still standing right by the window,

“Jon!” He startled, again, turning to look out the window. There stood the familiar face of one Fredrick Knudsen, dressed in casual modern wear like the first time Jon had met him, a hat obscuring the wings Jon knew were on his head,

“Fred?!” He’d known the Fears had followed them, but he didn’t think any avatars had,

“That’s me!” Fred called, “Can I join you? I don’t want to shout!” Jon nodded hesitantly. In the blink of an eye, Fred had unfurled a larger pair of wings like the ones he and Martin had seen during the apocalypse, a pair of wings that definitely were not there before, and he’d rose to the window.

Jon stepped back, allowing Fred to let himself in and as Fred stepped into his office, his wings had disappeared behind his back and vanished. Fred strode across his office to where the Owl was still perched on his desk. He crouched down and leaned into the owl, bringing a hand up to cup its ear, whispering something to it.

Before Jon could ask what he was doing or what he was saying, Fred had stepped back and the owl had taken off through the window and quickly disappeared from sight,

“So?” Jon prompted, closing the window behind the owl. He wasn’t even going to bother to question whatever was going on with the owl,

“So,” Fred began, “Full disclosure, I’m not technically the same Fred as the one you knew. We’re in an alternate universe, as you I’m sure you Know, one where the Fears didn’t exist until a few years ago,” Jon nodded along, “I was a normal guy, up until a few years ago. When you brought the Fears here, the Eye latched onto me, as this world’s version of Fredrik Knudsen, and it… Enlightened me, shall we say,” Fred clasped his hands together,

“I see,” Fred nodded, continuing,

“I’m not the same man, but I’m a version of him, with the Knowledge and awareness of his memories and his past,” He finished, leaning back against the chair situated in front of his desk, not even sitting in it. Jon took a few moments to take in the information,

“And you came to me now, because-?” Fred shrugged,

“Curiosity? Why else does an Eye avatar do anything?” Jon breathed a sigh, hating the truth in the simple statement. Fred tilted his head, his blue earrings, identical to the ones the original had, dangling ever so delicately from his ears at the motion,

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Again,” He tacked on the again, unsure how to treat this Fred. It seemed it’d been satisfactory enough as the younger man and fellow avatar practically beamed, shifting on his feet,

“I wish I could say I’ll see you around, but my flight back home is tomorrow. I think I’m just glad I got to meet you myself and make my own memory of the man who both started and stopped the apocalypse,” He paused, “Oh, that’s a good title. I was thinking about the man who Saw the world but that’s also good…” He brought a hand to his chin,

“I have work to do, Fred?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, right. I’ll leave you to your work. Nice meeting you for the first time,” Jon chuckled, watching as Fred pushed off the chair and made for the doorway,

“It was nice meeting you for the second time,” Fred waved excitedly, pushing the door open and disappearing into the hall as the door closed behind him. Indeed, what a strange man.

Chapter Text

so this AU thing started as just an idea and then I did some doodles and then I was like “Oh hey, I actually really like this idea, I’m gonna write it”

So. Here are the doodles that started it all