When Jon figured out that this was Martin's goodbye, that this was his final words, his final act for humanity, for Jon, the tape in his hand dropped to the floor and shattered. Heart pounding, he raced through the halls, he couldn’t be too late, Martin couldn’t leave with Lukas, not when Jon still had to tell him-
Relief coursed through Jon's body as he shoved open the office door took in the shocked form of Martin Blackwood standing before him. Peter Lukas was standing off to the side, his hand partly outstretched towards Martin.
“Martin,” Jon breathed, voice thick with emotion.
“What are you doing here, Jon?” His voice was calculating and cold, completely devoid of all emotion. “I told you to stay away.”
“I know, an-and I tried to listen, but- whatever you’re doing, whatever Peter has told you, it can't be the only way. It can't.”
“ I have to do this Jon,”
“Martin, please, I-” Jon was cut off as a loud noise permeated the small office, followed quickly by another and the feeling of something punching him in the back. Slowly, Jon watched Martin's face shift from blank to shock, before finally settling on something horrified. Jon tried to move forward, to grab Martin, and keep him from Peter's grasp, but instead the world shifted dangerously, and he felt himself falling to the floor.
Jon expected to find his face planted firmly on the ground, but instead he was cushioned by the soft fabric of Martin's shirt as he ran forwards to catch him. Jon didn’t quite know what was happening, or why he had ended up falling, but he was content to lay in Martin's arms. He was suddenly very tired.
“Well, this won't do,” Jon heard Peter say, though who he was talking to, Jon wasn’t sure. “ Elias is not going to be pleased to find his sweet Archivist has been killed by the likes of you.”
Wait, what? Jon would know if he was dead. With a lot more effort than he thought it would be, Jon raised his head and attempted to turn towards the figure in the doorway.
“I’m just doing my job, getting rid of monsters,” said the voice of Trevor Herbert. Jon heard some more shuffling, as though Peter were moving past Jon and Martin, and then he spoke.
“You see, only I am allowed to interfere with Elias’s plans, which means you need to just- go away.” Suddenly, static filled the air, and when it cleared, Jon Knew that both Trevor Herbert and Peter Lukas were gone.
At this point, Jon was feeling rather uncomfortable, and attempted to pry himself away from Martin.
“God, Jon, stop moving, just- uh - please. I need to phone an ambulance, right.” Martin was bordering on hysterics at this point, and although he was confused, Jon tried to speak words of comfort. Instead of words, however, something warm and metallic bubbled its way up Jons throat, and started dripping down his chin.
Slowly, Martin lowered Jon's body the rest of the way to the floor, and Jon was able to get a good look at the two growing stains of red that were located on his chest. Oh. So that’s what Peter was talking about. Gunshots. Trevor Herbert shot him.
As soon as Jon realized this, he was hit with a sudden wave of pain, as Martin pressed down on one of the gaping wounds. His body lurched and he attempted to shove Martin off, to no avail.
“Jon, you just got- got shot twice. I- I need to stop the bleeding, please just. Hold on.” Martin's voice was quivering and Jon looked up to see tears pooling in his eyes and dripping down his face. Jon was starting to panic now, and wished that he could desperately tell Martin about the feelings that have been eating him alive, but every time he opened his mouth, more blood oozed out.
“We heard gunshots wh- oh Christ.” Basira and Daisy stormed into the room and dropped to their knees besides Martin and the ever growing pool of blood. Jon felt himself drifting off, but was roused by Martin carding his hands through Jons hair, and whispering to him softly. It was getting harder and harder to breath, and instantly Jon Knew that a bullet had struck one of his lungs, and his chances of living were slim.
Jon knew what he had to do. With his last remaining strength, Jon pushed his feelings and emotions to Martin, he pushed the love and the gratitude and the comfort to him, and hoped that it was how Elias had done it, and it passed along to Martin. Jon needed Martin to know he was loved.
Jon felt the fingers running through his hair freeze, and soon he was looking directly into the watery eyes of Martin. He tried to find the words, he opened his mouth and tried to force something out, but there was nothing in his lungs to give voice to his statement.
Sniffing, Martin cradled Jon’s head and softly whispered, “it’s okay, Jon, I know. I- I love you too.” Jon’s body shuddered, and he felt himself being pulled towards the blackness of unconsciousness.
His eyes were so heavy, and what little energy he had was now gone. Distantly, Jon could hear Martin sobbing in the background, begging him to stay.
“Please Jon- nononono stay with me, I love you I love you, Jon I love you. Please.” As much as Jon wanted to stay, to be with Martin, the world was growing so heavy, and with a final shudder, Jonathan Sims slipped away.
It took a lot of effort for Jon to surface from the comfort of nothingness, but there was something warm pressed against his hand, rubbing circles against the scarred skin. He blinked a couple of times, and squinted against the harsh light of the hospital room. When the world came into focus, more or less, Jon noticed the red face of Martin Blackwood staring at him, with a mix of hope and fear decorating his face.
“Thank God,” Martin said, “don’t- don’t you ever do something like that again. I-” he began to get choked up. Carefully, Jon gripped Martin's hand and gave it a squeeze, causing Martin to look back at his face.
Jon opened his mouth, his throat scratchy and dry, but he knew what he had to do, “Martin, I-” and then Martin was surging forwards and crashing their lips together. It was clumsy, both of them being a bit out of practice, but it was perfect. Jon raised his hand so that it was cupping Martin's face, and leaned into the kiss, deepening it. He felt Martin begin to kneel on the bed, and chase after Jons lips.
Finally, Jon pulled away long enough to whisper, “I love you too,” before moving over and making room on the hospital bed for Martin to lay next to him. Martin lay on his side, and Jon nestled in next to him, where he decided that he fit perfectly against Martin Blackwood. Laying there, warm against Martin, Jon let himself be lulled back to sleep, confident that Martin would be there again when he awoke.