[Obviously he's had more to drink than he'd thought, and he should have stopped hours ago. Years ago, maybe. Years before all this, before the institute, before the archives, before Danny--
Jon can't mean what Tim's hearing. He can't. Because doesn't that make it worse? If Tim wasn't just his best friend, was his only friend, and Jon still couldn't trust him, then what was the bloody point? What was the point to any of this at all?
His laugh is harsh, half a sob as it catches in his throat, and he sets the bottle aside, pulling a leg up, wrapping his arms around it in an effort to quell the trembling in his arms, the tightness in his chest.]
I'm the idiot??? If I'm the idiot, what does that make you, leaving behind your only friend to chase bloody monsters alone? Jon, for Christ's sake, why didn't you trust me?
[His breath escapes him in a shuddering rush, and Tim forces his voice even, even if it is small.]
I didn't have anyone else. And then I had you, and we had each other, and it was--better. Even with you being bitchy half mornings, and always ranting about the state of the archives, and being flustered and overwhelmed and unsure about everything, it was still so much better. And then you good as told me that none of that mattered and you couldn't trust me and you left.
[Another one of those hollow, whispered laughs.]
Maybe I am the idiot. I kept thinking you'd change your mind. You'd remember. Shows how much I know.
[ The words are, they're raw. Pained. Shaking and scotch-fueled and honest, so honest.]
You think that I left you behind because- because I don't even know why you think I-
[ Fuck fuck fuck he wishes he was sober. He'd be able to collect his thoughts so much better. But, he realizes, this would never have happened if they were sober. It couldn't happen. So he pushes forward.]
This place was fucking with us, Tim, it was fucking with you. What if I- what if it had it's claws in you and- and- and- involving you just made it dig in worse?
Gertrude was dead and if there had to be a target on me, I wanted to find the- the shooter before he put one on anyone else.
[ He looks at Tim, really looks at him, and pleads with him silently to understand. To get why he'd done it, even if now he thinks it'd been a mistake.]
Tim... you can't- you can't give up secrets you don't know. And as long as they didn't think you knew them, they wouldn't hurt you to get them. Or worse.
You- Martin-
I thought it would keep you safe.
[ He recovers, just a little.]
And it didn't. And I'm... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry it didn't.
It doesn't matter why, Jon! It doesn't matter that you did it to try and keep me safe, it doesn't matter that you--that you were trying to fix all this impossible, fucked-up mess, it matters that you were trying to do it alone! It matters that you just--
[The words escape in a rush, angry and raw and painful and harsh and so very, very hurt. It matters that Jon couldn't trust him. It matters that he all but walked into the mouth of the monster empty-handed.]
I was already in this, Jon. We all were. But I already knew about the monsters in the dark. They'd already got me. We could have done all that together. You didn't have to go charging in alone. Why couldn't you have just trusted me?
[The anger is only a brief burst, there and gone. All that's left behind is the sorrow and the regret and the very real desire to drink until he forgets it all. Fuck this place.]
[ The words hit like blows, and he reels a little as Tim goes, shoulders hunching in on him. His fingers hold carefully to the bottle but he doesn't even open it.]
I already knew I'd lost Sasha, all right? I couldn't-
I couldn't lose any more of you.
I thought- [ He draws in a breath.] I thought I was doomed anyway. I felt, even then- I felt like I was in too deep. The way- the way I heard Michael say 'Archivist'...
It was something I couldn't shake. And I thought-
I thought I had to do everything I could before it, this place, the monsters...
Before it all took me down.
[ He swallows and his head is still bowed.]
I didn't know, Tim. I didn't know about Danny. I didn't- I didn't know how bad it would be. I'm sorry.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-03-09 05:32 am (UTC)Jon can't mean what Tim's hearing. He can't. Because doesn't that make it worse? If Tim wasn't just his best friend, was his only friend, and Jon still couldn't trust him, then what was the bloody point? What was the point to any of this at all?
His laugh is harsh, half a sob as it catches in his throat, and he sets the bottle aside, pulling a leg up, wrapping his arms around it in an effort to quell the trembling in his arms, the tightness in his chest.]
I'm the idiot??? If I'm the idiot, what does that make you, leaving behind your only friend to chase bloody monsters alone? Jon, for Christ's sake, why didn't you trust me?
[His breath escapes him in a shuddering rush, and Tim forces his voice even, even if it is small.]
I didn't have anyone else. And then I had you, and we had each other, and it was--better. Even with you being bitchy half mornings, and always ranting about the state of the archives, and being flustered and overwhelmed and unsure about everything, it was still so much better. And then you good as told me that none of that mattered and you couldn't trust me and you left.
[Another one of those hollow, whispered laughs.]
Maybe I am the idiot. I kept thinking you'd change your mind. You'd remember. Shows how much I know.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-09 02:34 pm (UTC)[ The words are, they're raw. Pained. Shaking and scotch-fueled and honest, so honest.]
You think that I left you behind because- because I don't even know why you think I-
[ Fuck fuck fuck he wishes he was sober. He'd be able to collect his thoughts so much better. But, he realizes, this would never have happened if they were sober. It couldn't happen. So he pushes forward.]
This place was fucking with us, Tim, it was fucking with you. What if I- what if it had it's claws in you and- and- and- involving you just made it dig in worse?
Gertrude was dead and if there had to be a target on me, I wanted to find the- the shooter before he put one on anyone else.
[ He looks at Tim, really looks at him, and pleads with him silently to understand. To get why he'd done it, even if now he thinks it'd been a mistake.]
Tim... you can't- you can't give up secrets you don't know. And as long as they didn't think you knew them, they wouldn't hurt you to get them. Or worse.
You- Martin-
I thought it would keep you safe.
[ He recovers, just a little.]
And it didn't. And I'm... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry it didn't.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-18 12:17 am (UTC)[The words escape in a rush, angry and raw and painful and harsh and so very, very hurt. It matters that Jon couldn't trust him. It matters that he all but walked into the mouth of the monster empty-handed.]
I was already in this, Jon. We all were. But I already knew about the monsters in the dark. They'd already got me. We could have done all that together. You didn't have to go charging in alone. Why couldn't you have just trusted me?
[The anger is only a brief burst, there and gone. All that's left behind is the sorrow and the regret and the very real desire to drink until he forgets it all. Fuck this place.]
no subject
Date: 2019-03-18 12:27 am (UTC)I already knew I'd lost Sasha, all right? I couldn't-
I couldn't lose any more of you.
I thought- [ He draws in a breath.] I thought I was doomed anyway. I felt, even then- I felt like I was in too deep. The way- the way I heard Michael say 'Archivist'...
It was something I couldn't shake. And I thought-
I thought I had to do everything I could before it, this place, the monsters...
Before it all took me down.
[ He swallows and his head is still bowed.]
I didn't know, Tim. I didn't know about Danny. I didn't- I didn't know how bad it would be. I'm sorry.