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“Are you sure that this will work?” Basira looked between the three of them nervously, “Because I would really rather not die on a case.”
“Of course it’s not going to work, Basira, look at the dickheads that planned it,” Daisy snarled.
Tim huffed a wry laugh, “Don’t lump me in with him.”
Jon sighed, “Please we can argue about this later, Gertrude did stop many rituals, I am sure this will be fine. Her documents seemed very thorough, if you could all have some faith, I am sure we’ll be fine.”
“Very convincing boss, you can say we're walking to our deaths, be truthful for once.”
Jon opened his mouth to defend himself but fell silent, when he realised that he could not in good faith disagree. He knew that it had successfully been done before, but it had been done by someone who knew what they were doing. They were certainly not that. Jon knew that there was a high chance that something would go wrong, that none of them would make it out of here alive. Or at least they wouldn’t. But instead of saying he just said, “Tim, you have no faith, everything will be fine.”
Everything had not gone to plan. There was music, dancing, yelling, singing, screaming and it was everywhere, all directions spinning, spinning, falling, or was he falling. He was pushed forward, down, left and right at the same time. Something bumped into him and he fell to his knees, no he was lying, or was he flying? He couldn’t fly or could he. He felt the ground at his feet before it flew upwards and he was in it. The colours were vibrant and muted and dull and bright and all around him but he was in darkness. A thousand voices sung out for the Stranger, he yelled out for Tim. No Daisy, definitely Daisy like the flower. But why would he yell out for a flower? Come to think of it, what was he? What was he? That didn’t sound like him, He is a strange name. He laughed, screamed and cried who had been so cruel to give him such a name - to limit him in such a way - but come to think of it. He was a much better name than She, he liked it better. But what was a name anyways? A name was a silly defining thing, he hadn’t known why he had been so concerned about it.
The other voices rise and fall or fall and rise? There was rising and falling anyways but he couldn’t tell if it was him, or everything else - not that there was much to rise and fall. But the harmony crescendoed and he felt a hole in his chest - he vaguely wondered if there was a hole through him or if the hole was just as much a part of him as his heart or his eyes. But it was quickly undercut by the realisation that he was dying. He was dying. And everything was too loud.
“Jon!”
He turned, whoever that was was ruining the music, what was a Jon anyways, it sounds sharp and pointy and silence ruining. Whoever, whatever, it - they - he was, it yelled out again.
“Jon! Where are you?”
Whoever or whatever ‘Jon’ was, it did not respond. The voices grew even louder than he thought possible.
“I- I have the detinator… I just…”
The voices sung, of questions and yells and song but no answers. What is it they said? They had no reply, so they continued their song. Answers were optional, they didn’t care so they went on. They weren’t concerned and he wasn’t concerned either, whoever he was. They wanted to know what it - he - they held but not enough to find out.
“Jon. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can… then I don’t forgive you. But thank you for this.”
Then one voice rose above the others in a familiar voice. He did not know who he was but he knew who it was.
“You idiot! Do you really make the world fare any better under the Watcher? You think you’re saving anyone?!” The Toy Soldier yelled. It was using a new accent but he would know it anywhere. He was Jon and that thing - the person was Tim and he was going to die if Jon didn’t do something.
So he took a deep breath and yelled, and gave the order nice and hard, “Toy Soldier! Stop this and that's an order”
The spinning, twisting, moving, shaking began to slow steadily to a halt. Tim was thrown into him barreling them both over. Tim took one look at the detonator and realising how close he had come to death threw it away from himself. And without an apology pushed himself up and away from Jon, looking at him in astonishment. Without looking at Tim he called out into the now still dark, “TS?”
“Yes, Jonny?”
“Are- are you still Nikola?”
“Why No My Dear Jonny, Not Anymore.”
“Will you go back to being Nikola?”
It hummed contentedly, “No, No I Don’t Think So Jonny. I Have Played That Role For A While Now. And To Be Honest I Was Getting Kind Of Bored.”
It walked into view, half of its wooden face was burnt and its limbs were broken and it shook slightly. The unknowing had clearly taken its toll on it, but despite it all, its permanent grin still adorned its face. It had been so long since they had seen each other, he was about to step forward and give it a hug when Tim rushed past him and crashed into the Toy Soldier.
“I am going to kill you,” He snarled, “You killed my fucking brother - you fucking monster!”
He wound back and smashed his fists into its face over and over again, it had struggled under him but soon stilled. Jon was over there in a second using his entire weight and pulled Tim off of it.
“Fuck you Jon, Let me have this Jon. Please, I need this.”
He tried to placate Tim and help the Toy Soldier back to its feet, “I know Tim, but it did just save the world.”
“Boo fucking Hoo, It still killed my brother.”
“What Is Your Name?” Toy soldier asked politely, its hands running over the charred remains of its arms nervously.
“Timothy Stoker,” he snapped.
“Ah So Your Brother Is Daniel Stoker-” Tim launched forward at it but was barely restrained by Jon who he shot a deathly glare at. “I Remember That Day, The Stranger Told Me To Kill Him. He Was Nice, I Think That He And I Would Have Been Friends If He Had Lived. But I Had No Choice.”
Tim opened his mouth to yell something - or maybe even launch himself at it again, when Basira and Daisy staggered over to them. With a grunt Basira took over restraining Tim from him and he was able to give the Toy Soldier a hug.
“I Missed You Jonny.”
He looked up into its eyes, taking its face in his hands and rubbing his thumb gently over the deepest cracks on its face. He couldn’t quite figure out how to articulate his emotions to it, so instead he squeezed it tighter and whispered into its ear, “We'll be safe now, together. I’ll make sure of it.”