#post 159

Jon cringes and hits the stop button on the CD player that’s sitting on the counter.

“Ah,” Martin says, drying his hands on a towel. “You don’t like The Mechanisms? I’ve only got three physical albums with me and two of them are The Mechanisms, sorry…..”

He pauses, frowning. “They’re not that well-known, I’m surprised you recognize the music.”

Jon shakes his head in exasperation. He’s annoyed, but more with this unexpected encounter with his past than Martin. “Yes, I’m aware we’re not well-known, thank you.”

Martin frowns again, but differently. “We?” he echoes, like something terrible is dawning on him.

“Martin,” Jon says slowly. “You do realize…..that Jonny d’Ville…..is me, right?”

“What?” Martin screeches, nearly throwing the towel across the room. He blinks rapidly, like his entire world is resetting.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in a band!” Martin demands.

“I thought you knew! Tim teased me enough about it, I thought everyone in the Archives knew.”

Weakly, Martin says, “Oh my god. I got your autograph once. I mailed in a CD and  you signed it for me.”

“Really?” Jon asks. Wordlessly, Martin pops open the CD player and hands over the disk for Once Upon a Time in Space. Sure enough, ‘Jonny d’Ville’ is scrawled over the front in black sharpie.

“I can’t believe I’m dating a fan,” Jon says, for lack of a better thing to say. They’ve faced weirder things on a daily basis for years now, but this has shaken him in a way the supernatural never could. It’s not that he’s ashamed of his band, but everyone looks back on their college bands with a little embarrassment, right? Jonny d’Ville was much more dramatic than Jon Sims ever let himself be. To hear himself croon and yell with such abandon feels just a touch mortifying, and even more so to consider that his boyfriend listens to it regularly enough to own physical copies.

Martin slaps a hand over his mouth. “I had two crushes on you,” he says with all the finality of a man admitting his complacency in a fatal crime. “One on Jonny d’Ville and one on my boss.”

Suddenly the ridiculousness of the situation hits Jon and he puts a hand over his mouth to hide his laughter. It doesn’t work, as several giggles and one undignified snort sneak out past his hand.

“My god, Martin, only you,” he says. Martin, blushing hard, grabs the front of Jon’s jumper and tugs it gently.

“If you don’t tease me about crushing on your band-sona, I won’t tease you about the costumes you wore as d’Ville.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I was quite proud of those costumes! I worked hard on that makeup, too,” Jon says, mock-insulted. He puts his arms around Martin’s waist, drawing them closer together. Martin melts into the embrace, as does Jon. It feels good to laugh with Martin, even at something as silly as this.

“Hey,” Martin says quietly. “Would you sing for me sometime? Not The Mechanisms, if you don’t want, but just anything? I always thought your voice—well, d’Ville’s voice—was beautiful.”

Jon kisses Martin’s cheek, then properly on the lips. When he pulls back, he says, “if you’re lucky, I’ll even play a bit of harmonica for you.”

“Ooh, I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Martin says.

Jon hums a quiet agreement, which then evolves into humming an actual song. The tune resembles the opening to one of the songs from the album Martin had cared about enough to buy and have signed, and eventually, Jon picks up the words, just loud enough for Martin and himself to hear.

Oh, my love, as the canons were a-blazing

I looked to the stars for you my love

Oh my love, as the cities you were razing

I looked to the stars to you, my love

My world was left a-burning and my royal house a-bleeding

______________________________________________________________

Jon doesn’t know for how long they’ve been walking, hands clasped clammy but firm between them, when they come upon it - an almost curtain-like barrier, masked by fog, separating the Lonely from the real world, seen hazily just beyond them. Jon picks up the pace minutely. They’re what seems to be mere feet from the barrier when Martin abruptly slows to a stop, hand loosening its grip on Jon’s. Jon only grips his hand tighter in response, looking back from where he’s been leading the taller man.

“Martin?” He breathes the question, his whisper so quiet he can barely hear his own voice.

“I don’t,” Martin starts, tries again, “I-I don’t know if I can.”

A fond tilt of his head, “Of course you can, Martin, what do you mean?”

The taller man only shakes his head, almost unnoticeably, and tries to take a fraction of a step backwards, back into the Lonely where they came. But Jon steps with him, now facing him directly. Martin stays staring at the barrier, fear and uncertainty lacing his features.

“Martin,” Jon, more insistent, “tell me what you see. Out there, through the wall.”

“It’s,” Martin takes a shaky breath, doing nothing to calm his anxiety, “it’s the world, Jon. It’s the real world.”

Jon smiles gently, nodding, “Yes, Martin, and- and wouldn’t you like to be there?” he questions, trying not to let the flicker of doubt in his mind grow into something larger.

A pause.

“No,” Martin decides.

Jon’s heart stops working.

“Not… not on my own. Not.. alone,” Martin continues, “not like before.” He finally breaks his gaze from the looming expanse of reality before him to look at the man in front of him. “Not without you, Jon.”

Jon exhales a breath he hadn’t known he was holding before lifting his free hand to meet the side of Martin’s face. Martin leans imperceptibly into the warmth of his hand, eyelids fluttering shut at the new point of contact.

Sarang knocked twice and the door swished to her right. Her boss finished his call before looking up at her. She had her usual blank face, a defensive technic she had sported ever since she had enlisted some years before. Would her sister be similar to her?

“Since the Maze experiment wasn’t that much of a success, we have decided to go on with the female Subjects. They just brought in the last coffins.” The man announced, getting up from the armchair he had been sitting in.

Silence and darkness welcomed them in the corridor. No one sound escaped the Dorm, nor the rooms inhabited by the boys, nor the ones by the girls. No wonder for it was only four in the morning. Their feet swirled on the white tiles as they walked to the room. The man bipped his flashcard.

“Tell me once again how many of them there are.” Sarang repeated all over again the number of girls (eleven), their respective powers (the same as the boys, apart from time travel), the level of dangerousness (ranging from casual to highly dangerous). The man was leading her to a special box, one which hadn’t yet been unsealed.

“This is Subject 16. She will control time travel. The Scouting Team stated she was ready for any use. We’ll wait one week before they prepare the Maze. Then, we’ll send them in, one by one. Like we did with the boys. And, you’ll be managing their journey to and fro.” Sarang nodded while the man circle the box. He entered a code only he knew; the seal came off, unveiling Sarang’s younger sister, Kaeyon.

+++

Right before leaving the Dorm, Rebecca saw two of the nurses chatting in the kitchen booth, drinking coffee. It was appreciated that some of them were sharing any type of information, or anything to just create a better place of this building. The night had been quiet, but Rebecca had felt some of the girls getting tense. She herself hadn’t been able to close her eyes much, her thoughts lingering onto her patient. She hoped today would bring some answers, he would be awake. She had some questions to ask him. Opening the door to his room, she stilled once she saw he was sitting on his bed, sheets loose on his body. He also looked like he had had a rough night. Plus, he was tightly holding onto his arm, onto his wounded arm. Fortunately, Rebecca has left the previous day the first-aid kit, which was still under the boy’s bed. He winced and massaged his wrist, tugging on the gauze.

“Let me do it!” She offered, putting her badge back into her pocket, crouching to get the kit and opening it on the sheets, just where the boy’s legs were spread.

“You did this to me.” The young man’s said, in a toneless voice, which surprised you. You else could have? That Sarang woman? She didn’t care about them! She even called them ‘Subjects’! When they were Patients!

“Yes. I patched the best I could your wrist. The bones aren’t broken. It’s just a sprain.” She explained, rolling his sleeves to better examine his member.

“No. You did this to me.” He pointed at his wrist, tapping on it, groaning from pain. “You made that creature appear in the Maze and I had no other choice than to twist my arm to get out of its claws.” He accused, grimacing when she was unwrapping the gauze. Rebecca didn’t stop her moves, like she had upon entering, but couldn’t help her tongue from moisturizing her lips. So he thought she was working with them? With that institution? She was but she had just begun her work! And what had happened in the Maze? What menacing creature had been sent there? Why had these boys been sent there?

“It’s not me. It’s my second day here.” She applied some gel on his hand, wrist and forearm, trying to be as gentle as she could. She could feel his gaze on her face, though her eyes were fixed on his hand and long fingers. He remained silent the whole time she cured him. Rebecca pushed the kit under his bed. With one last look, she left the room. She had forgotten about her habits as a doctor: she should have asked him his name.

Previous chapter : Part 4