The Before
Jon was a mess, Georgie noted with a frown. His clothes were rumpled, and were honestly pretty funny looking. He wore brown slacks, a blue button down with a little flower sewn into the collar, and one of Martin's uglier patterned sweaters, which Jon was swimming in. His hair was pulled back, but strands stuck out at various different angles, making Jon look like a mad scientist. He wore no shoes, and his socks were mismatched. Jon usually looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, but now he looked like a corpse. Stubble coated Jon’s cheeks, and it was obvious that Jon hadn’t eaten anything since Martin had gone missing. The face that he was even upright and functioning simply astounded Georgie.
The most unsettling part of Jon’s appearance was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. Georgie hadn’t seen Jon’s eyes after the accident, and it was shocking. Around his eyes there were pink scars, whether from the incident itself or from surgery Georgie wasn’t sure. His eyelids were misshapen, and drooped slightly. He had fake eyes, and they were surprisingly realistic, so at first Georgie couldn’t even tell they were fake, but after a moment Georgie realized why they unsettled her so much. They didn’t move. Normal eyes shift and pupils expand or decrease, but Jon’s just stared blankly ahead. There was no warmth, no emotion, no anything, just blank nothingness. Jon used to have such beautiful eyes, and Georgie felt a pang of sadness as she realized, again, what freedom cost.
Georgie glanced around the room, surprised that everybody had shown up. Jon was in the center pacing back and forth while fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. Tim was lounging on one end of the sofa looking relaxed, but Georgie could worry lines etched into his tan face. Daisy and Basira were whispering in a corner while shooting glances at Jon. Melanie stood next to Georgie, holding her hand and squeezing every now and then. It would have been a normal gathering, except for the fact that Martin was missing.
“Alright, Jon,” Basira said, voice gruff, “ I need you to tell me what exactly happened the night Martin went missing.”
*****************
Two Days Ago
Jon didn’t know how long he kneeled on the floor, hunched over with heaving sobs. Martin was gone, and Jon had no idea what to do.
At some point, his phone started ringing. Frantically, Jon grabbed it and answered, hoping that, somehow, Martin managed to find a phone.
“Martin? Is that you?” His voice cracking at the end.
“Hello, Jon.” The voice was cool and calculating, and it was one that Jon would recognize anywhere.
“Elias,” Jon all but spat out. “Where’s Martin? What have you done to him?”
“Oh Jon,” Elias chuckled, “ I haven’t touched poor Martin. I just didn’t do anything to help him either.”
“Why? We’re no use to you anymore. Why would Martin be taken?”
“Well, you’ve made quite a mess of things. I do believe that Martin was working for Peter Lukas, who, I know for a fact, was not pleased to work so hard grooming Martin only to have him disown the Lonely for you.”
“Martin doesn’t belong to the Lonely, he was only trying to protect me.”
“But of course. I, myself, am not pleased with that little stunt you pulled in The Archives. I decided that I could either pull your brain apart bit by bit with stories about what happened to your little friend and A Guest for Mr Spider, or how your nan secretly resented you, such a troublesome little boy. She already raised her children, why did she have to raise you? I could rip apart your mind until you were nothing more than a sniveling mess, or I could let the thing you love most be ripped away from right under your nose, and watch you destroy yourself. The answer was quite obvious, really.”
“You won't win, Elias, I’ll find Martin, and I’ll bring him home. You’re going to lose.”
“Really, Jon, how are you going to do that? It would have been hard enough for you to find Martin when you belonged to The Eye, now you’re just a useless piece of human flesh. I suppose if you’re truly going to try, then this is goodbye. You won’t be bothering me again. Who knows, maybe I’ll pop into The Lonely and say hello. You won't recognize me, of course, but it would still bring me great joy.” Elias sighed, “It didn’t have to be this way, Jon, you were a shit archivist, but I had high hopes for you. Goodbye, Jon.” The line went dead.
Jon cradled the phone in his hand for a moment, thinking over Elias’ words. At least Jon knows where Martins is not, sort of. Peter Lukas had taken him, which meant Martin was trapped in The Lonely.
Shuddering, Jon pulled himself off the floor and made his way into the bedroom. He reached into their shared closet and gripped one of Martin sweaters. He held it to his nose for a moment before slipping it on and making his way to the bed.
“Hey Siri.”
“Yes, Jonathan?”
“Call Tim.” The phone rang for a few moments before a groggy voice answered.
“Bloody hell, Jon, I know you’re blind but it's 4:30 in the morning for Christ's Sake.”
“Tim,” Jon managed to choke out.
“Jon? What happened?”
“Martins, he’s- Martin’s been taken. Please, Tim, I know we haven’t gotten along in the past but-”
“I’ll be at your flat in 30 minutes.”
“There’s a key hidden under the plastic cat outside the door, use that to get in.”
When the call finished, Jon curled up under the blanket and wrapped his arms around himself, letting the smell of Martin’s sweater wash over him. If he tried hard enough, Jon could pretend Martin was there, holding him close. It was there in their bed, huddled in Martin’s sweater, alone, that Jon let himself succumb to his loss.
**************
When Tim opened the door to the flat, Jon was nowhere to be found. He stood in the entrance hall for a moment, before hearing a soft sniffing noise coming from down the hall.
“Jon?” Tim called out tentatively as he followed the sound. Upon entering, what Tim decided was the bedroom, he noticed a small lump under the blanket. Moving closer, he could see black and grey hair peeking out from under the covers.
“Oh, Jon,” Tim muttered softly, frowning sadly down at the lump. “Alrighty then, time to get up.” He yanked the blanket off Jon's prone form. Tim then lowered himself onto the bed, so he was sitting next to Jon. He awkwardly gave the smaller man a pat on the shoulder.
“Tim?” Jon asked, lifting his head up.
“Yeah mate, it’s me.” Tim said while continuing to pat him.
Sniffing a little, Jon sat up, attempting to compose himself. “Sorry you have to see me like this. I’ve come to rely on Martin quite heavily, and you two were friends back at The Archives, so I thought I’d call you first and-” Jon was rambling at this point, and Tim didn’t know whether to interrupt or let him keep going. Eventually, he decided enough was enough and cut Jon off.
“I need to know what you mean by Martin’s been taken.”
“Oh. Right, well,” he took a deep breath, “ I woke up and Martin was gone. It was cold and damp which had all the signs of The Lonely. Then, I got a phone call from Elias basically gloating.”
“Jesus, Jon. I thought Elias was in jail.”
“Elias is an all seeing Eye being, I’m pretty sure he can do whatever he wants.”
“Fair point.”
Jon sighed before looking in Tim's general direction. “I’ve been leaning on Martin a lot, what with this whole blindness thing, and I-” he seemed to hesitate, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Martin has been my support, and without him I’m useless.” Quieter, as though he were speaking to himself, Jon whispered, “he promised he wouldn’t leave me.”
“Jon? I’m going to call the others, and we’re going to get Martin back.” Tim said, already pulling out his phone and dialing.