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Through the fog

Summary:

When Martin walks out of The Lonely, he feels cold and invisible. It’s like he doesn’t really exist, which is exactly how he felt for most of the last year. Invisible and slowly fading away in isolation, Martin feels like the fog and salt from this godforsaken beach still cling to him. He is used to it, and he isn’t sure he ever would have made it out of there without help.
But as it is, the only part of him that feels warm and alive, is his hand that is currently clutching Jon’s like a lifeline.

 

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Bad Things Happen Bingo ROUND 3
Square: Isolation

Notes:

Hello, hello there!
Let's start another round of Bad Things Happen Bingo, shall we? This time, the series will be full of The Magnus Archives related content.

The bingo card was made by badthingshappenbingo on Tumblr. You can request your own card there!
https://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com/about

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Square 1/25: Isolation

This is set right after MAG159 but not yet the safehouse.

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More detailed Content Warnings are in the end notes

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

 

Through the fog

 

When Martin walks out of The Lonely, he feels cold and invisible. It’s like he doesn’t really exist, which is exactly how he felt for most of the last year. Invisible and slowly fading away in isolation, Martin feels like the fog and salt from this godforsaken beach still cling to him. He is used to it by now, and he isn’t sure he ever would have made it out of there without help.

But as it is, the only part of him that feels warm and alive, is his hand that is currently clutching Jon’s like a lifeline. 

 

They haven’t had much opportunity to talk in a long time. Ever since the Unknowing and after… Everything else that happened in the months that followed, there were only a handful of times they saw each other, let alone had an opportunity to talk. But then again, Martin had pushed everyone away then. It had been partially self-protection in order to avoid getting hurt again, but even more so than that, he had tried to protect everyone else, in the only way he had been able to see at the time. 

Unfortunately, this is exactly what made him such a good candidate for The Lonely in the first place.

Peter Lukas had seen that, and of course, he had taken advantage of him and the situation. It had been easy to do so. After all, Martin never tried to fight it, at least not for a long, long time. He’d done what seemed logical at the time, and for a long while, it was the only thing he realistically could have done to protect the people he cares about.

 

The Lonely slows everything down. It makes Martin feel numb, but the dazed emptiness is much, much easier to deal with than suffering through loss and heartbreak on his own. He’s had enough of that for a lifetime. However, now he sees a chance for a new start. Martin is far from okay, but there is enough numbness left in him that it makes everything else easier to deal with. 

But even more so, he isn’t alone anymore. Despite the warm hand holding his, squeezing reassuringly every once in a while, and the company of another person right next to him, Martin finds it hard to believe that this is really happening. 

After all, there is no way out of The Lonely. He knows this. And yet, he walks beside Jon, trusting that he knows what to do. 

“Don’t worry, I know the way.” he’d told him after promising to get them back home, and Martin simply believes him. 

 

“Home.” He isn’t even sure what that means for him anymore, but then again, he is holding the hand of a man he mourned for months. Martin has loved Jon for a long time, even before he actively thought about it, let alone considered a romantic relationship with him as even remotely realistic.

But now, Jon had risked everything to walk into The Lonely and get him out of there. Martin is still a little bit in disbelief, but he clings onto Jon as hard as he can. He is relieved to feel him squeeze back as his thumb gently strokes over the outer part of his hand. 



How exactly the two of them end up on the tube and on the way to Martin’s flat, he wouldn’t be able to tell. He simply goes along with it because it’s the easiest thing to do. Martin refuses to let go of Jon’s hand even as they sit pressed together in the hard plastic seats of a train, letting the darkness of the underground tunnels rush past the windows. They don’t talk, and Martin wouldn’t know what to say if asked, but he is immensely grateful for the continued physical contact. 

It relaxes him, and when he feels the slight weight of Jon’s head resting on his shoulder for a moment, Martin is pretty sure that his touch is the only thing that keeps him from drifting back into the salty fog. 

For the first time, he is terrified of it, because now, he knows there might be a possibility to leave it behind. Only a few hours ago, that would have seemed impossible, but now? Now, the thought of escaping from the fog is what keeps him going. 

Trying to reassure himself, Martin tightens his hold around Jon’s hand again, and is relieved when he squeezes back almost immediately. Neither of them talks, but they don’t have to. 



One moment, they’re on the train, the next moment, they’re closing the door to Martin’s flat behind them and it makes him blink in confusion. Time seems to have lost all meaning, but then again, the fog has clouded pretty much everything for him, even though it is not technically there. Not anymore.

He can still feel it in his bones.

 

“What do we do?” Martin asks several minutes later, when they are sitting on the couch with mugs of tea in their hands to warm up. His voice is quiet and thick, and it feels like he is still swallowing the heavy fog. It’s in his lungs, sticking to every fiber of his being.  The tea doesn’t help much in terms of warming him up, but Martin has always found comfort in the routine of it. 

Still, he is pretty certain that the blanket around his broad shoulders and the small bit of body heat radiating from Jon does a lot more to keep him warm and present than the beverage. 

Martin is exhausted - so, so exhausted, but he needs to know what is going on. He knows something is up, because he knows that the nervous knit in Jon’s eyebrows and the way his fingers are restlessly tapping against his mug are tell-tale signs that he worries. 

 

“We need to lay low. The institute is not safe right now, and I can’t imagine we’ll be able to stay in the city for long… The Not-Sasha Thing is still around there somewhere, and so are the Hunters. I… I’m hoping Basira will contact us sooner rather than later, but, well… I can only imagine the place must be crawling with police as of now.” Jon tries to explain, and it is clear that he isn’t comfortable with the situation at all. He looks tired and scared,

Martin nods, unsure of what to say to that - there is a lot to unpack. Way more than he has the energy for, and he highly doubts that Jon has much energy left, either. He slumps into a hunched form and leans into Martin in both an effort to reassure him that he isn’t alone and to warm him up. It is also very much an attempt to comfort himself, unsurprisingly. Both of them are in desperate need of warmth and company. 

There are many more questions that Martin would like to know answers to, but he is too exhausted to ask. He also knows that if Jon had any of those answers, he would have already given them to him.

So as it is, the two of them will hide out here until they know how to proceed, and most of all, where they can go. For now, they are together, and that is all that counts. 



As it turns out, being on his own after everything is terrifying. 

Martin is in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, but when he goes to pick up his toothbrush, his hand is suddenly translucent. All it does is grab into thin air. A choked off noise escapes Martin as the room begins to fill with fog.

He can almost taste the salty air from the beach on his lips again, and when he tries to touch the toothbrush once more, or the sink, or anything really, he still can’t get a hold of either object. 

Soon after, the dangerously comforting numbness overcomes him again while the fog is rapidly getting thicker and thicker. Martin can barely breathe through it, and he doesn’t know how much time passes. 

Eventually, the knocking on his bathroom door grabs at least a little bit of his attention, but he doesn’t find his voice to answer.

The knocking continues.

 

“Martin? Are you alright?” Oh. Right…. Jon is here, and he must be worried by now. Martin still doesn’t find the strength to answer - the fog is so comforting…

Another series of knocks, more intent this time.

“Martin? Please say something if you are okay!”

As much as he would like to answer, he can’t. Even if he could, “I’m fine!” would be a blatant lie and both of them are well aware of that. But Martin tries anyway, but all he does is swallow more salty fog when he opens his mouth. His silence seems to be enough to worry Jon. His voice is clearly panicked, and he stumbles over his words when he knocks again and says,

“I, I’m coming in now, Martin - I’m sorry!”

 

And with that, the bathroom door opens, and the only thing that Martin registers is a string of curses, followed by gentle hands on either side of his face. 

“Martin. Hey. Stay with me, alright?” 

God, Martin loves this voice, loves the way his name sounds spoken out loud like this. He breathes in and out, shuddering, but the fog seems to clear up at least a bit. 

It’s odd - wasn’t he one with the fog, just a minute ago? But Martin feels less cold now, and much more alive than he did while he was alone in the small bathroom with the ugly tiles. The hands on his face are warm, fingers brushing lightly against his temple. They’re rough from various scars, and Martin can tell exactly which hand is the one with the burns, but the touch is careful and loving.

 

Martin is surprised that, when he tries to reach out for a hug, he can actually touch Jon. It seems that his presence makes a massive difference. Or more specifically, the presence of someone he cares deeply about, someone who is patient and willing to be close to him and offer comfort.

In an instant, Jon hugs back and he holds Martin tightly. They remain standing like that, in the middle of the bathroom, clinging onto one another for dear life. 

 

“I just - I don’t know what happened. It was okay one moment, and then everything was full of fog and I - I wasn’t solid anymore. Couldn’t touch anything. The Lonely - it… I think it’s still with me.”

The scariest thing of all is, Martin isn't entirely sure if that is a bad thing or not. One part of him wants to claw his way out of the fog, wants to feel warm and alive. 

Another part of him misses the numbness of it. Nothing hurts, nothing saddens him there. Not really. But is it worth all of that? He'd be missing so much. 

 

"Do you - ehm. I don't want to overstep or anything, but do you want me to stay with you? It seems easier to manage that way…  Or, at least you're solid now…" Jon is looking him in the eyes with concern, but there is something else. Like he isn't sure if his company is wanted. 

All Martin can do is nod and reach out with shaking arms to embrace the other man. The relief of that choice is instant, Martin notices, and the fog seems to clear away eventually. 

It takes longer than he would have hoped for, but it is a small step. 



After the incident in the bathroom, it is surprisingly easy to figure out a sleeping arrangement. If he were in a better state of mind, and if Jon's thoughts wouldn't be lingering at the past tense of what Martin told him in the Lonely ("I really loved you, you know), he wouldn't have hesitated to curl up next to him in bed. But as it is, he drags in a few cushions from the sofa and the blanket they shared earlier and  places it on the ground right next to Martin's bed. 

When they fall asleep that night, they do so with their hands clasping one another for comfort. Neither of them thinks about it, they just act - the need to make sure that the other person is still there is urgent. But once they are asleep, dead to the world from exhaustion, their fingers relax and slowly fall away from one another. The price for it is a room full of the same heavy, salt-filled mist that they walked out of earlier. 

 

Martin wakes up in the middle of the night, gasping for air and unable to see anything. Granted, it is dark in his bedroom, but even if there was a light on, it would be nearly impossible to make anything out through the thick fog.

He is alone, the hollow voice in his head whispers. No one would miss him if he was gone, no one would notice… Or would they?

Dark, hopeless thoughts keep on hammering through his head, and Martin finds that he is unable to touch anything. His hands are shaking, cold as ice and no doubt, translucent like earlier when he was alone in the bathroom. 

The fog around him seems to swallow him alive, and giving in would be terrifyingly easy. But doing so now would mean losing every tiny bit of progress he’s made. It would mean losing everything, and Martin can’t let that happen. He doesn’t know what he could do to stop it now, but his mind fights the pulling sensation on him with every last bit of strength he has left.

The room is too dark to see anything, but he knows that if he was able to take a look, his hand would glide right through the pillow. He is trying to clutch it in an attempt to hold onto something, to keep himself from falling apart. 

Breathing is getting harder and harder, and it must be unusually loud. Martin barely realizes it, and even less so the fact that he is starting to tear up.

As he is staring into nothingness, the lump in his throat is growing and growing, and he wishes he was able to do anything but wait for whatever happens next. 

 

"Martin?"

He can hear his name in the distance, called out in worry with a sleep-thick voice. He knows that voice - loves it even. Martin wants to answer, but he fears that if he tries to speak now, he might start sobbing and never stop. So, instead of talking, he remains where he is, inwardly cursing himself for being unable to do anything.

When he doesn’t answer, Jon reaches out towards him, but this time, his hand goes right through Martin. Cold dread is running down his spine at the realization, but he keeps trying to get through to him. 

Jon calls for him again, trying to reach out once more in an attempt to comfort, but it takes a lot longer than earlier that day to get through to Martin. But Jon doesn't give up. 

Eventually, Martin can feel the edge of the bed dipping down a bit, and relief washes over him. He is no longer alone, and there are no words to express how much he needs that reassurance right now. The warmth radiating off of Jon is slowly creeping into his bones, and it’s just enough to keep him from fading away completely. Just a little while later, the faint sensation of skin on skin contact pulls Martin out of his trance entirely. 

Still shaking, he forces himself to close his own ice cold fingers around the smaller but much, much warmer hand in his. Just like on the train ride home, he feels like this gentle touch is the only thing keeping him here.

 

Neither of them has a feeling for how much time has passed, but the physical contact helps tremendously. The more Martin finds himself able to move again, the closer he allows himself to get to Jon. 

What fascinates him, even now while he is beyond exhausted and out of it, is that Jon seems to welcome him and his touch. Or at least, this is how he interprets the fact that he has spent the last however many minutes or hours practically wrapped around Martin. He holds him close in silence, but one of his hands has found its way into the messy mop of red curls and begins to untangle the tiny knots. 

Their embrace is a stark contrast to how both of them have spent the last few months - lonely, isolated and on their own. Now, they are able to find warmth, comfort and company in one another.  

Being so close now, after such a long time of near-silence should have made this awkward, but it really isn’t. There is a lot to unpack and even more to talk about between them, but they seem to be in silent agreement that this is a conversation for later. There are about a million other things to discuss, but once they have found a place to lay low, they might get to it. Hopefully - eventually.

 

As for now, they remain wrapped around each other under the blankets, clinging as they wait for something else to happen, but nothing. The fog has cleared, and Martin seems to warm up again. Here, in the arms of the man he loves, and has loved for a long time, he feels warm and alive. Here, with Jon, he feels safe, which is impressive, given the situation the two of them find themselves in.



Way too early in the morning, they are awoken by the shrill door bell. It rings in an odd pattern, which in turn tells them that Basira is waiting in the cold hallway. 

She looks tired and tense, but not one smidgen surprised to find them here, or to find them together. Basira doesn’t waste any time. As soon as the door is closed behind her, she simply starts rattling off instructions and gives the two of them a long look once she is finished.

“Go. Call me once you’re there and we’ll talk then. I’ll send some statements after you as soon as I can.”

Any questions about her own well-being or plans remain ignored, and only moments later, she has already left the small flat. The only sign that she was ever here in the first place are the keys, train tickets and the envelope with cash on the table. 

 

It doesn’t take long at all to pack a few bags with clothes and necessities, and before either Martin or Jon can think about it all for too much, the two of them find themselves on a long train ride up north. 

Neither of them wants to let go of the other. They hold hands for the entirety of the way to Scotland, reassuring themselves that they won’t lose each other again.

Martin can still feel The Lonely pulling on him, and he has no doubt that if he were to let go of Jon for only a moment, the fog would creep into every last cell of his body. But for now, the warm hand holding his own and the head resting against his are enough to keep him going until both of them can rest again.

They don’t know for how long they will be away. They don’t know what will happen next, or what they can do to help solve the mess they are currently running away from. 

About a thousand questions are running through both of their minds, but what it comes down to is this; whatever will happen next, they will face it together. 



Notes:

CW:
- Loneliness, isolation
- Hopelessness
- implied/referenced depression
- Panic
- emotional and physical exhaustion
- anxiety