Work Text:
Jon has forgotten what he wanted to be when he was younger.
He feels like he had wanted to be remembered, to change the world. But he had changed the world, he had killed it, and now he wants nothing more than to have a boring life. He wants to be an office worker, die old, and be forgotten after a couple decades. He can’t now, though, so the next best thing is fixing the world and then leaving it.
He knows it’s the coward’s way out, but he can’t live with the guilt. He knows he is the cause of people’s deaths and suffering. One of the only reasons he can still feel happy is Martin.
He misses the life he could’ve had. The life where he lives with the people he loves — or rather, loved — in peace.
Jon stares at the photo on his nightstand. It’s the photo that Tim had made Jon take on his birthday, of the archival team. He hadn’t realized how lucky he was back then. He hadn’t realized what he was going to do.
The worst part of the picture was Sasha. It wasn’t what she looked like. He would never know what she looked like.
Jon’s eyes — including the one on his forehead — fill with tears. He hates crying, but the guilt and pain and sadness and knowledge and death and everything is just far too much. His whole body starts to shake uncontrollably. His nails dig into the skin of his legs, drawing blood. He can’t breathe.
He’s sobbing so hard that he can’t hear the door open. He can, however, feel Martin’s arms around him. Jon leans into him, his body relaxing slightly. This had become a common thing for them as the reality of what Jon had done had hit him. It was rather humiliating to cry in front of someone, but Martin was very sweet about it.
He starts to breathe again. He wipes the last tears from his eyes, the guilt leaving him for the moment. “I love you.”
Though Jon couldn’t see it through his closed eyes, Martin has a soft, sad smile on his face. “I love you too.”