[Peter listens. He does not try to interject or interrupt because he owes it to Jon to listen. He can't help, of course, the way that he tenses when Jon brings up Miasma. But he listens. (Perhaps in the very beginning his mind is a little stuck on the way Jon seemed to be lifting his hand with purpose but that does eventually fade to the background.)
His first response, when Jon is done, is a murmur.]
I had been wondering for a while what you meant when you said you didn't want to hurt me.
[Then, at a slightly more normal volume.]
Thank you for telling me that. I'm not sure I believe that's all that you are but...I understand. [Jon is saying that what and who he is is a monster and Peter believes he's seen so much more than that. Even the fact that Jon appears to be struggling against that nature seems to imply to him that he isn't just the Archivist.] In any event....my hands certainly aren't particularly clean either.
[If Jon seems to think he needs to know all this, then perhaps.....yes, well. They are disclosing. And as much as it frightens him, as much as he has a strong urge to take back those words or say nothing more....he steels himself. Takes a breath. Wonders if what he is will make Jon turn away.]
I haven't always been particularly scrupulous in who I've stolen from or what I've been asked to steal. And I've killed people. Not wantonly, never for no reason at all. I prefer to handle situations without it. But sometimes it has simply been the most efficient option to dealing with a situation.
I won't judge you for this. I can't. For a very long time my life has been completing jobs, no matter what it takes, and asking very few questions. Never looking back to see the consequences.
[Jon can't help the fondness that washes through him as Peter tries to compare being an unscrupulous thief to what the Archivist has done. He appreciates the gesture, if nothing else, and finally lifts Peter's hand properly to kiss it.]
I didn't think you were Robin Hood, if it helps. I found you in that den of silver-tongued bastards, after all. I'd have been surprised if you weren't one at some point. [He takes a deep breath.] I suppose that's... more or less the bulk of it laid out on the table, then. You're an awful thief, I'm a terrible monster, and we've somehow decided, collectively, it's still a good idea to proceed with this. Is that right?
[Again, Peter is slightly distracted by Jon taking the initiative to kiss his hand. He doesn't do anything so foolish as swoon, but his lashes do flutter a moment.
And he smiles, squeezing Jon's hand for a brief moment.]
We don't have to....jump into anything, though. I think it's probably best that we simply...acknowledge that this could be something more and let it develop as it will.
[Perhaps that's disingenuous. Knowing they both have feelings for each other will surely lead them to want to act on it. At least it some part. But diving in headfirst seems terrifying.]
Yes, I think that's... wise. I am... very fond of you. [They've exchanged 'feelings' over text, but it seems important to mention it here.] I'm not entirely sure when that happened. Maybe when you rescued me from that customer.
[His smile returns, broader and fonder, though there's a wry shade to it when Jon speculates on when his feeling developed. "Sort of" indeed.]
I'm glad you appreciated the attempt. [He hums, considering the information and reflecting backwards to give his own response.] I think it might have been back when I gave you that haircut, for me.
[The vulnerability Jon had shown him...even though he knew at the time and knows now that it wasn't altogether intentionally given. It had sparked something in him anyway.
After a moment, though, Peter's expression becomes contemplative and serious.]
...That story you want from me. Is there a way I can give it to you safely? I don't particularly like to think of you struggling every time you see me.
[The mention of the haircut has Jon self-consciously thinking of the current state of his hair. It's grown out since Agnes' explosion enough to stick out at odd angles if he doesn't do something to tame it, but it's still just a little too short to pull back into a full ponytail. But that had been nice, as well. Letting Peter touch him, falling asleep on him...
Jon clears his throat.]
What? Oh. Um...
[He looks down at their clasped hands.]
Writing it down. If it's written, it won't hurt you. It's just anything verbal. You don't... there's no need for you to give it to me if you don't want to. [He desperately wants it, but he's trying to be good.] I'd appreciate it, though. I am... very curious. [When he returns his own gaze to Peter, there's something hungry in his own look, and the sense of being watched in this room intensifies for a moment.]
[It's a sensation that he's slowly getting used to. And besides, without the appearance of the Archivist himself, it isn't as terrible as it could be. Not desirable but also not something that sends up warning bells immediately.
It's his turn to cover their intertwined hands, gaze earnest.]
I know I don't have to. I trust that you don't want to hurt me but I'm sure it isn't easy worrying about it. Why not take that worry out of the equation?
[He offers this lightly, or at least in a light tone. In reality, there is nothing casual about the offer. To provide Jon with the context of who Miasma was, what she wanted and why she loomed so large in his memory...
Well. It's all very painful. Some of it isn't even horror. Still. He's willing to offer it to Jon, if it will make their lives easier.]
[It really should take more to twist his arm here. He should be stronger than this, more reassuring about his own self-restraint. But Jon's been restraining himself for a year now, and he wants Miasma.]
All right. I have a form for you to fill in for it. I'll keep it confidential, of course. All of the ones from the other LIERs are unless they've told me otherwise. Thank you for this, Morrigan. It's, um... something that's been on my mind for some time. It won't fix everything. You've been through too much here, but I think... I think it's what the Watcher wants. What... I want?
[His brow furrows.] It's hard to tell sometimes what's me and what's... if it's anything else.
[Peter makes a sound of acknowledgment in response to Jon's musings. He doesn't have much to add to that, doesn't really have a frame of reference himself.]
Whatever it is...if it helps you then I'm happy to do it.
[He pauses for a long moment, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of Jon's palm as he does.]
...How did it...happen? If you don't mind telling me, of course. [After a moment, he clarifies a bit.] You said it's what you are now.
[Jon's quiet for a moment as he gathers his thoughts.]
I told you about the Statements, becoming dependent on them. They were a way to feed the Watcher. In turn, it fed me. It wasn't... all at once, I suppose. Little steps, slips here and there. Growing abilities. But at the Unknowing, I- I died. More or less. My body was too broken. Everything was dead except for my brain. The doctors couldn't explain it, so they just left me in a bed and called it a coma.
With what happened, I came to the precipice. Too human to live, too changed to just die. I had to pick a side. While I was in the coma, the Eye and another power, the End, were fighting over me. The Watcher kept me wandering the dreams on a loop until I made my choice. I chose to live. I thought- [He bites his lip and frowns.]
I'd like to say I was hoping I could use these powers to do something good. Honestly? I was... scared. I didn't want to die.
[It's an almost immediate response. Peter knows as he says it that Jon will argue with him. He'll tell him that the price of his survival is selfish. He'll talk about the pain that he's caused. And perhaps those are valid arguments.
But Peter is too attached to Jon to think of him dying with anything but dismay. Not to mention that he has made...certain choices of his own regarding survival. Both things mean that he feels very strongly about this, and it shows in his expression. The way he leans forward across the desk in emphasis.]
[Jon returns his gaze to Peter and stares at him for a long moment.]
For Elias to conduct his ritual, the Archivist needed to be marked by all Fourteen of Smirke's Dread Powers. To experience them and to fear for their life in that experience. That's what all these scars I have are.
[He lifts the hand that Peter isn't holding and moves it around to different scars.] The Corruption. [A touch of the pockmarks.] The Hunt. [The slice across his throat.] The Desolation. [He wiggles his burn-scarred hand.] The Spiral and Slaughter. [He touches his shoulders where Peter would have seen larger, uglier gashes than just the pockmarks when he was painting.] I'm missing two ribs from the Flesh. The others are more... metaphysical.
What happened in that coma was my scar for the End. It was always going to be one of the hardest for him to arrange. Maybe only one step behind the Web if I hadn't come pre-marked with that to the Institute.
Surviving is what let him finish his ritual. Surviving every time is why I... why the ritual could be completed. I don't want to die, Peter, but it was selfish.
[Peter is normally silver-tongued but in the wake of what Jon tells him, he is uncharacteristically silent. Some of it is Jon cataloguing his scars and the explanation for their existence.
Some of it is being arrested by the use of his name. Jon is usually so very good about using the alias, even though he must understand that it's a...silly sort of stubbornness on Peter's part. So. To hear it used gives even more weight for the seriousness of Jon's words. Peter doesn't react, or if he does it's subtle. A short intake of breath that only goes halfway before he releases it again.
And then...some of it is not knowing if he has the words, the understanding to argue this. He wants to argue it, though. Finally, he settles on a question.]
Did you understand that at the time?
[It isn't an accusation. It doesn't sound like an accusation. Peter cannot imagine Jon making that conscious choice, if he had known what it would mean.]
Not the extent, but I... I knew I was hurting people. My victims. The coma was when I figured out they weren't just my own nightmares. I knew that waking up meant those people would keep suffering. They'll never stop suffering. Not until I die or they do.
What's the value of a life? If you knew your life was contingent on the continued, inescapable misery of other people, would you choose to keep it?
Peter's gaze drops to where he's still holding Jon's hand. Jon has called himself selfish for wanting to survive. Peter...doesn't like to hear someone that he has so many feelings about talking about themselves like that. But if he looks at it objectively perhaps...
It complicates matters that Peter himself can be a selfish creature. He is willing to admit that he is a selfish creature.]
I...don't know. But I know I'm happy you survived.
[Even if that survival means the pain of others. Peter is not entirely a moral man. And never claimed to be.]
[Jon huffs a sigh and squeezes Peter's hand gently.]
Me, too. Some days.
[Not all or even most, but some.]
I'm trying to make it right where I can... just do better where I can't. Part of doing better is having a reason to be better. You've become one of them. So... thanks for that?
[Peter doesn't know how he feels about being thanked for this, the same what he didn't know how he felt about being thanked for not caring about Jon's asexuality. So: his tone is just a little bit light, even as he lifts his gaze and smiles a bit at Jon.]
I think I can count on one hand the times I've been someone's good influence. That's novel.
I would like to keep things a little more interesting for you. I'm sure you're fully aware that I'm an incredibly boring person with an ordinary office job and all that.
[It's all got to be quite a lot and he needs something to break the tension.]
[It does break the tension a bit. At least, Peter chuckles and finally drops Jon's hand. Though not before he brushes his thumb over his knuckles softly and fondly.]
Yes, you're very mundane. But at least there are other reasons to like you.
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His first response, when Jon is done, is a murmur.]
I had been wondering for a while what you meant when you said you didn't want to hurt me.
[Then, at a slightly more normal volume.]
Thank you for telling me that. I'm not sure I believe that's all that you are but...I understand. [Jon is saying that what and who he is is a monster and Peter believes he's seen so much more than that. Even the fact that Jon appears to be struggling against that nature seems to imply to him that he isn't just the Archivist.] In any event....my hands certainly aren't particularly clean either.
[If Jon seems to think he needs to know all this, then perhaps.....yes, well. They are disclosing. And as much as it frightens him, as much as he has a strong urge to take back those words or say nothing more....he steels himself. Takes a breath. Wonders if what he is will make Jon turn away.]
I haven't always been particularly scrupulous in who I've stolen from or what I've been asked to steal. And I've killed people. Not wantonly, never for no reason at all. I prefer to handle situations without it. But sometimes it has simply been the most efficient option to dealing with a situation.
I won't judge you for this. I can't. For a very long time my life has been completing jobs, no matter what it takes, and asking very few questions. Never looking back to see the consequences.
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I didn't think you were Robin Hood, if it helps. I found you in that den of silver-tongued bastards, after all. I'd have been surprised if you weren't one at some point. [He takes a deep breath.] I suppose that's... more or less the bulk of it laid out on the table, then. You're an awful thief, I'm a terrible monster, and we've somehow decided, collectively, it's still a good idea to proceed with this. Is that right?
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[Again, Peter is slightly distracted by Jon taking the initiative to kiss his hand. He doesn't do anything so foolish as swoon, but his lashes do flutter a moment.
And he smiles, squeezing Jon's hand for a brief moment.]
We don't have to....jump into anything, though. I think it's probably best that we simply...acknowledge that this could be something more and let it develop as it will.
[Perhaps that's disingenuous. Knowing they both have feelings for each other will surely lead them to want to act on it. At least it some part. But diving in headfirst seems terrifying.]
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[Sort of. The intent had been there.]
It was very, er... gallant.
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[His smile returns, broader and fonder, though there's a wry shade to it when Jon speculates on when his feeling developed. "Sort of" indeed.]
I'm glad you appreciated the attempt. [He hums, considering the information and reflecting backwards to give his own response.] I think it might have been back when I gave you that haircut, for me.
[The vulnerability Jon had shown him...even though he knew at the time and knows now that it wasn't altogether intentionally given. It had sparked something in him anyway.
After a moment, though, Peter's expression becomes contemplative and serious.]
...That story you want from me. Is there a way I can give it to you safely? I don't particularly like to think of you struggling every time you see me.
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Jon clears his throat.]
What? Oh. Um...
[He looks down at their clasped hands.]
Writing it down. If it's written, it won't hurt you. It's just anything verbal. You don't... there's no need for you to give it to me if you don't want to. [He desperately wants it, but he's trying to be good.] I'd appreciate it, though. I am... very curious. [When he returns his own gaze to Peter, there's something hungry in his own look, and the sense of being watched in this room intensifies for a moment.]
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It's his turn to cover their intertwined hands, gaze earnest.]
I know I don't have to. I trust that you don't want to hurt me but I'm sure it isn't easy worrying about it. Why not take that worry out of the equation?
[He offers this lightly, or at least in a light tone. In reality, there is nothing casual about the offer. To provide Jon with the context of who Miasma was, what she wanted and why she loomed so large in his memory...
Well. It's all very painful. Some of it isn't even horror. Still. He's willing to offer it to Jon, if it will make their lives easier.]
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All right. I have a form for you to fill in for it. I'll keep it confidential, of course. All of the ones from the other LIERs are unless they've told me otherwise. Thank you for this, Morrigan. It's, um... something that's been on my mind for some time. It won't fix everything. You've been through too much here, but I think... I think it's what the Watcher wants. What... I want?
[His brow furrows.] It's hard to tell sometimes what's me and what's... if it's anything else.
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Whatever it is...if it helps you then I'm happy to do it.
[He pauses for a long moment, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of Jon's palm as he does.]
...How did it...happen? If you don't mind telling me, of course. [After a moment, he clarifies a bit.] You said it's what you are now.
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I told you about the Statements, becoming dependent on them. They were a way to feed the Watcher. In turn, it fed me. It wasn't... all at once, I suppose. Little steps, slips here and there. Growing abilities. But at the Unknowing, I- I died. More or less. My body was too broken. Everything was dead except for my brain. The doctors couldn't explain it, so they just left me in a bed and called it a coma.
With what happened, I came to the precipice. Too human to live, too changed to just die. I had to pick a side. While I was in the coma, the Eye and another power, the End, were fighting over me. The Watcher kept me wandering the dreams on a loop until I made my choice. I chose to live. I thought- [He bites his lip and frowns.]
I'd like to say I was hoping I could use these powers to do something good. Honestly? I was... scared. I didn't want to die.
Selfish...
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[It's an almost immediate response. Peter knows as he says it that Jon will argue with him. He'll tell him that the price of his survival is selfish. He'll talk about the pain that he's caused. And perhaps those are valid arguments.
But Peter is too attached to Jon to think of him dying with anything but dismay. Not to mention that he has made...certain choices of his own regarding survival. Both things mean that he feels very strongly about this, and it shows in his expression. The way he leans forward across the desk in emphasis.]
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For Elias to conduct his ritual, the Archivist needed to be marked by all Fourteen of Smirke's Dread Powers. To experience them and to fear for their life in that experience. That's what all these scars I have are.
[He lifts the hand that Peter isn't holding and moves it around to different scars.] The Corruption. [A touch of the pockmarks.] The Hunt. [The slice across his throat.] The Desolation. [He wiggles his burn-scarred hand.] The Spiral and Slaughter. [He touches his shoulders where Peter would have seen larger, uglier gashes than just the pockmarks when he was painting.] I'm missing two ribs from the Flesh. The others are more... metaphysical.
What happened in that coma was my scar for the End. It was always going to be one of the hardest for him to arrange. Maybe only one step behind the Web if I hadn't come pre-marked with that to the Institute.
Surviving is what let him finish his ritual. Surviving every time is why I... why the ritual could be completed. I don't want to die, Peter, but it was selfish.
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Some of it is being arrested by the use of his name. Jon is usually so very good about using the alias, even though he must understand that it's a...silly sort of stubbornness on Peter's part. So. To hear it used gives even more weight for the seriousness of Jon's words. Peter doesn't react, or if he does it's subtle. A short intake of breath that only goes halfway before he releases it again.
And then...some of it is not knowing if he has the words, the understanding to argue this. He wants to argue it, though. Finally, he settles on a question.]
Did you understand that at the time?
[It isn't an accusation. It doesn't sound like an accusation. Peter cannot imagine Jon making that conscious choice, if he had known what it would mean.]
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Not the extent, but I... I knew I was hurting people. My victims. The coma was when I figured out they weren't just my own nightmares. I knew that waking up meant those people would keep suffering. They'll never stop suffering. Not until I die or they do.
What's the value of a life? If you knew your life was contingent on the continued, inescapable misery of other people, would you choose to keep it?
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Peter's gaze drops to where he's still holding Jon's hand. Jon has called himself selfish for wanting to survive. Peter...doesn't like to hear someone that he has so many feelings about talking about themselves like that. But if he looks at it objectively perhaps...
It complicates matters that Peter himself can be a selfish creature. He is willing to admit that he is a selfish creature.]
I...don't know. But I know I'm happy you survived.
[Even if that survival means the pain of others. Peter is not entirely a moral man. And never claimed to be.]
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Me, too. Some days.
[Not all or even most, but some.]
I'm trying to make it right where I can... just do better where I can't. Part of doing better is having a reason to be better. You've become one of them. So... thanks for that?
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[Peter doesn't know how he feels about being thanked for this, the same what he didn't know how he felt about being thanked for not caring about Jon's asexuality. So: his tone is just a little bit light, even as he lifts his gaze and smiles a bit at Jon.]
I think I can count on one hand the times I've been someone's good influence. That's novel.
[...He squeezes back just the same.]
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[It's all got to be quite a lot and he needs something to break the tension.]
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Yes, you're very mundane. But at least there are other reasons to like you.
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