@vestieg, tim. i just wanna talk about it. sorry for freaking out.
there’s a deep exhaustion in both of them, these days. it was only a matter of time before all of the anger and frustration fizzled out and left only that — only that bone-deep weariness, that too-late grief, that endless need to do something without anything concrete to act upon — but still it surprises jon to hear tim say it.
it’s not that jon doesn’t want to talk, only that it sounds like defeat to hear a sorry from tim’s lips, sounds wrong in a way jon doesn’t care to analyze. it’s been so long since they’ve really talked. before prentiss, before sasha, before jon’s mislaid paranoia and tim’s righteous rage : he can’t even fault tim for that, much as he wishes it isn’t the case, because jon’s well aware of how many foolish mistakes he’s made, how much they’ve all lost because of him. if he’d never asked tim to come to the archives with him — if he’d paid more attention during prentiss’ attack or found sasha’s tapes earlier ... there’s any number of things jon could have done differently, but here they stand. and here, anger is the only thing tim has given jon in months. it’s not comfortable but it’s well-deserved.
he’s not sure he knows how to talk to tim anymore. it’d been so easy once, hadn’t it? late nights in research and being dragged out for after-work drinks and — it’d been simple.
but he sets aside the statement he’d been following up on, slips its folder shut and gestures at the chair across from him. sit, then. let’s talk. please. the furrow in his brow is something tim would’ve teased him for a long time ago, all of his focus narrowed onto tim and looking for all the world like he’s trying to puzzle out something impossible — and maybe he is, maybe that’s what they are now.
‘ it’s alright, ’ jon says, slowly, like he’s taming something wild. it isn’t and they both know it, but what else is he to say? he’s not expecting forgiveness but wayward apologies spill out anyways: ‘ i’m — i know i’ve said it before, but — i’m sorry. for, uh, everything, i suppose. all of it. ’
a sigh, and he barrels along before tim can get a word in, looking down at the desk rather than meeting tim’s eyes. ‘ i know that’s — a rubbish apology, really, but. there’s just so much. ’ it’s all gone rotten.
















