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[statementfuckingends]

You've reached Timothy Stoker, leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you.

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[statementfuckingends]

[Tim can't help a thick swallow, as his brain stalls out for a few seconds. No clever quips, or hollow words, just. A sad, empathetic ache in his eyes, originating somewhere near his heart.

The whole point of Martin staying back during the Unknowing was so that he would survive until the end. Even if this was still years on, to not only know that he didn't, but that he thinks of it as... as something to soothe Tim, that he didn't...

...fuck.

He stops patting Geoffrey, so he can pull Martin in for a hug. Lord knows he could probably use one.]

cw a? vague'ish cousin of suicidal ideation?

[corkscrewed]

[ none of them made it. and - not that martin was exactly thrilled at the idea of dying, but he had very little interest in living on in a world where none of the others did. knowing that he'd been an avatar, had held lives of his own in limbo, even unintentionally - well, that was the anvil that broke the camel's back, wasn't it?

geoffrey grabs onto the fabric of tim's shirt, little claws gripping in, but martin just rubs his back in an uncertain way, like he's afraid of bruising him. ]

Sorry. I guess I thought it was the - obvious outcome.

[statementfuckingends]

Jesus Christ, Martin.

[He pulls away - and feeling the weight of Geoffrey gripping his shirt, scoops an arm under the koala to keep holding him, supporting him against his chest while Bertha takes over the warm spot left in Martin's lap. He keeps his other hand on Martin's shoulder, still, his grip a little tight.]

Look, I'm still not going to make you tell him. [He feels like it bears (hah) repeating.] Just... God. I dunno. You shouldn't hide things like that.

[corkscrewed]

[ and martin can't help the way he feels oddly betrayed by geoffrey clinging to tim like a lifeline, even as he tucks a hand against bertha's feathers. just for warmth - no other reason. ]

What's the point, Tim? It's literally a - I don't know, bad dream at this point. It's not like you didn't run away and die on us, too.

[statementfuckingends]

[Koalas are heavy, even daemon ones, and Tim takes back his other hand so he can support Geoffry and also dig his fingers gently into his fur, stroking down his ears and neck again. Soft, soothing strokes; even as his gaze hardens a little.]

That's not the same thing.

[His death doesn't haunt him; he may have done it far too eagerly, but there was no blood on his hands.]

I never hid what I was feeling, Martin, I always made that pretty damn clear. They weren't good feelings but I wasn't pretending everything was okay. I never have.

[corkscrewed]

And I knew what I was doing when I did it. I - knew what I signed up for, and I'd do it again if I had to. [ he groans quietly, stalling by going for the tea again. ] We all would, I know. And I knew the two of you would - overreact.

[statementfuckingends]

If you want me overreacting then I'll take Geoff and leave right now.

[Bertha can go a lot further than Geoffrey can from their counterparts. And all things considered, Tim thinks he's taking this pretty fucking well.]

And-- you know what, all things considered, I think I'm taking this pretty fucking well. You committed a bloody murder-suicide pact, Martin, I'm allowed to be a bit bloody upset with you - the pair of you!

[corkscrewed]

There was no pact!

[ for some reason, that's the thing that sets him off, and as much as martin is desperate to reach for geoffrey right now, his daemon's face is buried in tim's shirt. ]

Jon lied to me- to all of us. We had a plan, and he's the one who went off course, because he's a self-sacrificing idiot, but what good is having that conversation here going to do me?!

[statementfuckingends]

[Martin snapping makes Tim start a little, clinging to Geoffrey a bit tighter in surprise.]

I don't know. [He had to force himself not to meet Martin's volume, but his voice isn't exactly a bastion of calm either.] But you carrying this alone is hurting you, Martin, you're going to resent Jon for it and it's really not his fault this time.

[God, what a fucking world where he's the one defending Jon from Martin.]

[corkscrewed]

He made his choice, and then I made mine. We - God, I'm skipping so many things and I don't even know what's important anymore.

[ he's pushing bertha from his lap, but gently, just because he struggles sometimes with contact when he gets this way. ]

Do you know the deal behind Hilltop Road? [ it's more neutral, at least. ]

[statementfuckingends]

[Bertha bunts her beak delicately against his hand, understanding what he's asking, and flaps up to Tim's shoulder, as he sinks into the couch. Still cradling Geoffrey, letting his hand slide down the daemon's back now, letting out a long sigh.]

I dunno, um. Agnes Montague, spiders, evil bleeding trees, I think the priest statements? The whole place is cursed, obviously.

[corkscrewed]

It's not just - cursed. Bloody fucking - hell, I guess undoing the end of the world doesn't undo Hilltop Road and Annabelle Cain, does it?

[ that part is to himself more than to tim. and, well - at least having spent time on the barge makes the concept of countless other realities easier to understand. ]

It's - a hole in reality, Tim. A big old rip between our world and a bunch of others.

[statementfuckingends]

[Tim just frowns. He understands what he's hearing, he just doesn't see how it's relevant.]

O...kay? What's that got to do with... everything else?

[corkscrewed]

[ he holds his hand up his hand briefly, but doesn't quite meet tim's eyes. ]

You'll get it in a minute. I'm trying to give you the whole story. So - Elias, Jonah. He's at the center of it all, right? Except he's not really himself anymore. He's just - Jon said he's part of the Eye. And we could kill him, but - then the Eye is just gonna grab up the next in line. Jon. Make sense so far?

[statementfuckingends]

[Well it explains why he had to kill Jon directly after, he'd been wondering. He nods.]

The Eye needs its... a-a focal point, I suppose, right? A pupil.

[corkscrewed]

[ he leaves out the way he'd seen jon covet it, leaves out the way it had been built for him. instead, his hands twist into white-knuckled fists in his own lap. ]

... yeah. And Jon thought maybe that was the only option. Martyring himself. Trying to - keep enough of himself in the eye of that storm to make the suffering... easier in the world while it burned itself out. But then Annabelle took me to Hilltop Road. [ he's watching tim, just to make sure he follows. ]

[statementfuckingends]

[Tim can feel himself getting a little frustrated, at how slowly this is getting pressed out of Martin, but Bertha fluffing about it looks similar enough to her upset fluffs that he can probably get away with it.]

And showed you the bridge to Terebithia, Narnia, the rest of the multiverse, free of bloody Fears.

[corkscrewed]

Do you want the whole story or the goddamn cliff notes, Tim? [ martin is rankled for a half dozen reasons, visibly raw, and he puts the teacup down a little harder than he needs to. the next words come quick, clipped. ] Fine, let's skip to the end. The group decided to flush the Fears from our world and send them down the pipes to - however many others. Jon decided to martyr himself instead, but it was too late. I had to kill him so it would work, and then we both got caught in the Panopticon coming down.

And great! I feel so much better now I've shared it all, I think I'll go for a morning swim!

[statementfuckingends]

Alright, alright, Martin--

[His tone is flustered and a little defensive, but mostly he recognises that he's pushed him too far, and he reaches out automatically to grab Martin's shoulder again, but stops himself short, and instead just curls his hand into a fist as he pulls back. Gives Martin space.]

--I'm sorry. Alright? I am. I'm just... worried, about you. It's all a lot and I know you, Martin, even after everything you're still not giving yourself what you need.

[corkscrewed]

What do I need, Tim? Because I don't know. [ martin drags his fingers through his hair, his voice cracking. ] I'd like to know that Jon wouldn't choose his guilt over me again, but even after two years together here I know he would. And what if I'm not even from the same universe as you and Jon? What if I'm from one where everything is shifted six inches further left, so nothing is fixed for me? What if I leave this place and go right back to the Panopticon crumbling around us with Jon bleeding out on my hands?

[ he's overtired and just rambling now, unable to stopper it after keeping it bottled for so long. ]

[statementfuckingends]

[He's not taking the anger personally. Not when he hears Martin's voice breaking, not when this is something he's clearly been sitting on for months. An entire bloody apocalypse and Jon's blood on his hands. Because their stupid boss was... too much.]

You need to let people in, Martin. We can't help you if we don't know.

[corkscrewed]

[ martin is standing abruptly, but he can't seem to decide if he wants to leave or if he's simply too anxious to keep sitting. ]

There's nothing anyone can do. There's no point in stressing everyone else out, too.

[statementfuckingends]

[Tim's not letting go of his daemon, so he won't get any further than Tim's own lounge. But that's still plenty of pacing room.]

But at least you won't be alone.

[corkscrewed]

I can handle being alone just fine. [ there's no anger in this, no scorn or bitterness - just a nearly gentle statement of fact. the fight seems to have drained out of martin abruptly. he is reaching for geoffrey, however. ]

Look. I promise to behave around Elias. But now you know some of the... baggage there.

[statementfuckingends]

[Tim nearly turns away, like he's defending Geoffrey from being taken back. Which is stupid, he realises a second later, and he stands up as well. Though he does press his face into the top of the koala's head for a moment, one last quick embrace for him.]

I know you can. But you shouldn't have to.

[He hands back Geoffrey, but he lingers with his hands out, like he's going to grab Martin's wrists before his hands close and pull back. When his words come out, it's all in a sudden, plaintive, breathless rush.]

Martin please don't lock me out, I don't-- I can't do that again. Not with you. Please.