#paranoiy

        ‘ did you? ‘ she stood over the break room sink, carefully sponging the inside of the coffee pot with soap then filling it with water and pouring it out. how she’d ended up on dish washing duty so many weeks in a row was a mystery to her though she had a feeling someone who’s name rhymed with jim had been rigging the system somehow.

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The Spiral’s cut deeper than the Watcher could ever hope to undo, to sanitize and entice Jon back fully and completely into the fold. Jon is still here, yes, still well within reach of the Eye, but the Spiral is corkscrewed, fish-hooked, the points of an arrow in a wound. Like everything else that Graham can recall -- his mother’s hands cupping his face in the kitchen, her desperate apologies, the deep burning claw marks of the not-thing, his dad’s luck as a gambling man, his own ending up as Head Archivist -- it seems inevitable he’ll lose Jon to the Spiral. Ah, he Knows it. Graham hates to cling only to end up losing.

“  WHAT,  IN  THE  BACKROOM? ”  chin  tilts, body  leaning  around jon  to  take  a  look  at  the  room.  from  this  angle  he  can’t  see  the  cot  he  knows  is  there,  the  one  martin had  bunked  in  prior  to  prentiss  that  he  never  takes  a  second  glance at  during  the  day,  if  he  even  has  any  reason  to  be  back  there  at  all.  somehow, it  doesn’t  surprise him  much  that  jon’s  obsession with  work  has  led  him  to  sleeping here  well  past  when  everyone else  should’ve  gone  home.  well,  doesn’t  surprise him  immediately,  three seconds  ago  his  heart  had  leaped  out  of  his  chest.  an  echoing  itch  creeps  beneath his  skin,  and  subconsciously  his  fingertips  reach  onto  the  back  of  his  hand  to  scratch at  a  hole  screwed  into  his  skin.  

“  didn’t  think  anyone  else  was  here,  you  gave  me  a  right  scare. thought  prentiss  had  a  friend. ”  he  laughs away  the  implications hanging  in  the  air,  still  rather  shaky despite  his  jovial demeanor  and  the  warm  smile  tucked  into  the  corners of  his  mouth. the  nightmares  aren’t enough  are  they,  he’s  got  to  be  deluding  himself during  the  day  too,  huh?  whatever.  he can  shake  it  off.  

he  crooks  a  brow,  setting the  manilla  file  clutched  in  his  other  hand  down  on  the  edge  of  jon’s  desk

“ hey, jon. hi, martin. ” livvy’s voice somehow carries over the sound of crackling wood, bubbling liquid, and distant screams for help. she doesn’t know if it’s been days or weeks, months or years in the blue house; time has become hard to tell and the little watch on her wrist is always at 7:43 pm. 

she stands on the staircase and doesn’t think about walking closer. she’s safe from where she stands, looking down at what was once or maybe never a family room. a tacky wooden sign declaring ‘bless our nest’ falls just behind them and martin can’t hold in a startled yelp. 

livvy tries hard to not look at his eyes and instead idly picks at the fraying sleeve of her sweater; jon had tried so hard to help her not give the fire what it so desperately wanted, help her stay good. is he able to tell that some part of her that’s angry and bitter and cackling doesn’t mind this new world?

“why are you guys here?” she asks, even though she has a sinking suspicion.

“You didn’t reinvent anything, Jon.” His loss was Elias’s gain. Finally, finally, everything was in place, and they were in the perfect setting to finish this all here and now. 

@paranoiy​ asked: “we’ve read the back of the book, we know what’s going to happen.” 

tim  shakes  his  head,  looks  down  at  jon.  ❛  it  doesn’t  have  to  end  that  way,  ❜  he  says  softly  but  it’s  clear  he  doesn’t  really  believe  it.  a  sort  of  distance  creeps  into  his  voice,  his  gaze  going  unfocused.  ❛  we  can  always  change  the  ending.  it  can’t  be  written  in  stone.  it  can’t.  ❜  is  he  trying  to  convince  jon  or  himself  ??  does  it  really  matter  ??  he  knows,  deep  down,  that  it’s  inevitable.  worms  and  corridors  and  monsters  until  eventually  one  of  them  gets  in  the  hit.  tim’s  lucky  to  have  made  it  this  far  and  he  doesn’t  think  he’ll  be  coming  home  from  this  one.  doesn’t  know  if  he  even  wants  to.  it’s  not  like  he’s  got  much  going  for  him  here.  danny’s  gone,  sasha’s  gone,  him  and  jon--  they  don’t  see  eye  to  eye  anymore.  and  he’s  never  been  close  with  the  girls.  martin,  maybe,  but  martin  will  survive.  he’s  got  jon,  after  all.