Everything hurt. Jonathan Sims' stomach was surprisingly not bleeding from the stab wound, but he still felt the pain of it. He had heard and felt everyone's fear, all at once, and it was violently ripped away. The silence was even more deafening, the ringing in his ears wouldn't go away. The only good thing was that he had somehow managed to land on a soft spot. Spot… that was moving. Oh thank god, Martin was still there. His vision was blurry, everything hurt and he felt like he had lost most of himself, but Martin was with him, and that was all that mattered. He got off of his boyfriend, looking down at him. From how clear he was able to see Martin's face, he didn't lose all his vision. He was just back to his old prescription. Lovely. That added up to a total of two things he knew. Him and Martin survived… no, not that. He knew better than to just assume he was alive. Him and Martin were together, at the very least, and he needed glasses again.
Jon took a second of breathing in the air, as he put his long hair back in a ponytail. Grey streaks and worm scars, still there. It wasn't a nightmare. Of course, if it was a nightmare, he wouldn't have had the man he loved with him. The silence was too much. It sounded like when the tape recorders would go haywire. He couldn't figure things out alone, as peaceful as Martin looked on the forest floor. He shook the shoulders of the larger man. "Martin? Martin! Martin, wake up!"
Martin awoke with a gasp, bolting upright. "Jon? Oh my god, Jon, you're alive! We're alive!" He pulled Jon in, laughing with relief. Worries about technicalities left Jon's mind. While he didn't know what was actually real in the empirical sense, Martin felt pretty real.
"I guess you're right… we did survive." He took a moment to appreciate it, inhaling Martin's scent. Add that to the list of things he knew. His boyfriend had a particular smell that made him think of how everything was, when he still allowed himself to deny the existence of the fears preying on their world. That smell has not left him. But there was still more to figure out. He stood, helping Martin with him.
"So… everyone else's plan was right." Martin said shakily. Jon heard the shakiness, but he couldn't quite tell the reason for the shake. Was it fear? Sadness? Anger? Relief? Martin was absolutely unreadable in this second and Jon was terrified. While his sanity was streaming out like sand in a broken hourglass, he was finally able to read people when he had the Eye. In this moment, he was everything he used to be. Blind. Not totally, but blind enough that people thought all of his "condescending tone" was purposeful, and his disregard for feelings was because he didn't care.
"Yes, Martin, I… I believe it was. Surprising gamble to trust Annabelle Cane of all people, but the gamble did pay off." Play it neutral, Jon. You can't afford to be wrong. Not again. Everything is unknown right now. In all of his possible guesses, he didn't guess Martin's next move. Martin, his sweet, soft boyfriend, hit him. It was in the shoulder, no bruise, the hit honestly hurt more emotionally than physically. Still, he believed that he deserved it.
"What were you thinking, Jonathan Sims!" He yelled, tears in his eyes. "For an avatar of the eye, you're fucking dense! Why would you go through with taking over the eye! How were you planning on stopping our end of the plan!? Fuck! You! You selfish prick! Your blood was all over my hands, I saw you die, because you refused to work with others like you always do! What do you have to say for yourself!"
Anger. That's what the shakiness was. Anger. Normally Jon was a fighter, he could defend his position, get the other person to back off. He had killed multiple people at this point, and Martin had every right to believe he could handle all the hurt that he was throwing at the former Archivist. When the Eye's connection was severed, it took all of Jon's strength with him. So he couldn't retort, he couldn't argue with Martin. Martin was right to be this angry, he made Martin stab him, when he knew that it would hurt him. Everything was Jon's fault, his entire body hurt, the love of his life was yelling at him for something he had no excuse for. The only thing Jon could do was sob. "Martin, I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry everything turned out like- I don't know! I don't know anything anymore! You have every right to hate my guts, I am so sorry!"
This made Martin falter. He was expecting to be met with the asshole side, the defensive side that Martin knows Jon can't really control, but was exhausting to argue with nonetheless. He had seen Jon upset before, but not like this. Martin was upset, and on top of that, a sympathy crier, so to hear these heart wrenching sobs from Jon, it took everything in him to not start blubbering as well. He gave it a few seconds, watching the dams break. "Jon… I don't know if I can forgive you just yet. But… I don't hate you. Q-quite the opposite, really. I'm pissed off because I love you, you big idiot."
"Wait, w-what?" Jon hiccupped, and tried to dry his face. While Martin normally thought Jon was quite attractive, he was a really ugly crier. Any attempt to get the nose to stop running, tears to stop flowing just didn't work. Martin sighed, and dug into his pocket, producing a travel pack of tissues he kept on him at all times. He gave it to Jon, letting him clean himself up. "Y-you don't hate me..?"
"In the moment, I did! Trust me Jon, I did. I hated your stupid ego, your self-hatred that you decided for some reason was also about to be everyone else's problem… but it can wait." Martin decided, as Jon really wasn't paying attention. He looked like he was trying, but Jon had never been too good at that. Not when there were mysteries around. "Jon? Jon, look at me. What's going on."
"Don't know where we are, or-or when, or anything. All I know is everything hurts and I am useless, I can't do anything, my head hurts and my lack of glasses certainly don't help that! Why were our wounds healed up, why did we survive? Where did everything go? Where's the tower? Are we in London? Are we even in our world, are they going to find us again, why-" Jon struggled to find out the next question he had, then giving up with a frustrated yell. He had too many, too many unknowns! This was exactly why he hated this plan! He plopped onto the ground, placing his head into his knees, rocking back and forth. His hands were over his ears. One thing he did know. The bugs were too loud, and so was the grass, and everything was too bright, and-
"Hey, hey, it's going to be okay." Martin said soft, almost like a whisper, as he decided to sit a foot away from Jon, to be on his level, but not in his space.
Martin was there. That was one thing Jon knew. In a world of unknowns, Martin Blackwood was beside him. Just like he had been beside him since Jonah made the stupid decision to assign the extra archival assistant to his team. "Martin… I don't know how to deal with not knowing."
"Oh, is this a new revelation, avatar of the eye?" Martin asked sarcastically. From the rock-shaped form that used to be the Archivist, Martin heard a soft snort. He smiled softly, inching a bit closer to Jon.
"Okay, well, technically not an avatar anymore-"
"Shut up! You were 5 minutes ago!"
"Well actually- okay okay!" Jon flinched with a laugh. "Fine! I'll stop. But yes, I suppose it isn't new information. But can you blame me? In a world of monsters, I'd much rather step on the plank of wood that will take more time to get me somewhere, then step on a quicker path that just might eat me. Knowing for certain was what kept me alive. What saved Daisy from that coffin, what saved Melanie, and you."
"No, Jon. You knowing had nothing to do with it. And don't give me that nonsense about the eye. You knew what the alternative was, and then you made an absolutely stupid decision. I'll admit you were right! Certainly, but I don't think it was some eldritch power working through you. I don't think eldritch powers care much for the survival of humanity." Martin said, as Jon lifted his head up. Jon closed the distance, then squeezed his eyes shut again as he leaned himself against Martin. Martin peered at his boyfriend, noticing the adamant refusal to engage in the sunshine. "Jon. There is a tree just right over there. Would you like to-? Alright, yes, let's go."
The two walked over to a large oak tree, sitting down. "Thank you, Martin. But really, how do you deal with not knowing anything?"
"First of all, rude! Second of all, you just get used to it. You deal with it. You can accept you know nothing, or do what you used to do, and act like you know everything. Remember how excited you were with Salesa's blind spot? When you didn't know what was next? Because I do." he said with a smile, kissing his forehead. "It's alright to not know, Jon."
"Alright, I suppose. I at least know the important things." Jon relented, feeling safe leaned up next to Martin.
"And what would that be?" Martin asked curiously.
"First. Wherever we are, we're together. Like we said we'd be. Second. We're not in a hellscape. And third… I need some fucking glasses."