demonicmiracle | (duplicity) ic contact

[He doesn't bother responding, because he's just there, honing in on Martin once he's close enough to feel the Lonely.]

Hey. [more gentle, now, as he reaches out to touch Martin's cheek.] Have you any idea where he might be, it'll go quicker if I can narrow it down.

[ he leans into the touch, trying to look put together and not on the verge of anxious tears, hands curling in crowley's shirt. ]

I-- I don't know. He could be anywhere. He just said that.. he wanted to be honest and he's meeting.. someone. He didn't finish the thought, and when I asked who and where, he didn't respond. Am I-- Maybe I'm just being paranoid?

This is Jon we're talking about, perfectly reasonable to check up on him when he pulls this shit.

[Because if he was owning up to meeting someone and then suddenly went radio silent, it's sensible to assume he's fucked up in some way or another.]

Are there people he's not supposed to be talking to? Aside from Elias?

[ that's.. a good point. jon tends to be secretive when he's doing something he knows martin would hate. but why would he try to tell him and then.. not? ]

I-- N-Not really, I don't think? I mean, there are a lot of people that, um, probably.. really don't like him and he shouldn't talk to for his own safety. I don't know many of them other than Nick and.. [ he makes a tiny, disgusted expression. ] .. Dorian. The.. um, the new one. If you know him. I don't like that one.

[ .. wait. ] I did ask him not to meet him without talking about it first.

[If it's Nick, he'd most likely meet Jon in the Gray Room, so that's a decent place to start, though he has no idea about Dorian. He's met him, but doesn't really know him well enough.]

Alright, so it's likely Elias or Dorian, if he had some last minute guilt about not telling you. [Sounds like Jon.] I should be able to feel for the Eye and narrow it down from there, same way I can find you with the Lonely.

[The trick is that it's a big city and he doesn't know where to start.

Although...]

When I met with him a while ago, he picked the library as neutral ground. Might not be a bad idea to start there.

[ he takes a deep breath, then nods. ] That.. would make sense, yeah. [ elias, martin thinks, jon wouldn't willingly seek out at this point. probably? but then, as much of a creep as dorian is, he's probably less likely to actually do something to incapacitate jon. he's jon's submissive right now, after all.

god, he doesn't know. either way, it seems like crowley might be able to find him even if martin doesn't know where he is, and not for the first or by far the last time, martin feels hopelessly soft with warmth and gratitude toward him. he's very, very lucky to know crowley for a thousand reasons. ]

The library does sound like a good place to start, [ he agrees, thinking of the building in question with a small, worried frown. ] There are those little study rooms there. [ and the library is neutral enough, and jon enough to appeal to his boyfriend. ]

[He drops a hand to Martin's shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.]

I can take us there now if you're ready? Or do you want to head over and have me start searching the rest of the city?

[Martin could theoretically poke around the library easily enough, if he wants to split up and cover more ground.]

Let's.. Let's start there, please, if that's okay.

[ he reaches up to curl his hand over crowley's, squeezing it gratefully. what would he have done if he didn't have crowley to turn to? how would he have ever done this? ]

But.. maybe.. let's show up just outside? In case he's fine and I'm overreacting. I can just.. peek into places so he won't, um, notice me.

[Crowley steps back, snaps his fingers and they're inside the library, but before any protests can come, he raises a hand.]

No one can see us, not even Jon. [The Eye might be able to, but he's tested his don't look at me with Jon before and it's worked just fine.

He gives a little wiggle of his head, closing his eyes as he feels out the area around them. That prickle at the back of his neck is there, the feeling of being watched, and it's a little stronger than the usual background noise of Jon, like the Beholding is interested.]

He's here, down that way. His friend is watching pretty fucking intently, I think.

[ his breathing hiccups in his chest as they appear right in the middle of the library, but the reassurance helps. he nods once, stiffly, faintly nervous in spite of himself. he's used to not being seen himself, being able to hide himself in the lonely-- but the lonely is also distinct, especially if you're familiar with it. jon would notice that, probably.

the news makes his eyes widen, and he spins to hurry down in the direction crowley indicated, pausing briefly to peek into study and conference rooms. and then there's voices, and martin slows to a stop, going cold and uncomfortable as he recognizes the other voice.

it is dorian. and the things they're saying.. a statement? he leans against the wall outside the room, feeling tired and unhappy, arms folded across his abdomen. they're intensely focused on one another, and evidently, jon's just.. forgotten about his phone. he gets like that, forgets everything but what he wants. ]

[Crowley follows at a more sedate pace, since he isn't actually concerned for Jon's wellbeing, just worried that what he's up to might effect Martin badly. His priority is watching Martin, and when he stops, so does Crowley, paying minor attention to the voices in the room, more focused on that look on his face.]

You're not going in? I thought we were here for a daring rescue.

[ he glances up as crowley approaches, not quite able to hide the stricken look on his face for a moment. it smooths away again as martin offers a small, uncertain smile. ]

I-- I don't think we need to..? Jon seems to want to be here.

[ he unfolds his arms, reaching for crowley's hands and gathering them up, bringing them to his lips to kiss the fingers. ]

You don't have to stay, I know I-- I sort of just jumped you. [ the smile quirks up crookedly, gentle and tired. ] Wish it was a more pleasant sort of jumping, though.

[This isn't at all how he was expecting this to go, he didn't think Martin would just... stop here, when they got so close. He doubts he's entirely successful in keeping something like anger out of his expression, because he hates this, hates that it keeps happening to Martin when he deserves far better.

He's not sure what the right course of action is, whether he should encourage Martin to check on Jon anyway, considering the man is terrible at self control and could likely use the reminder, or if it's best to allow this to play out.

He watches Martin kiss his fingers, then gently disentangles one hand so he can cup his cheek.]

Let me come home with or? Or come home with me, can run you a bath either way, stay with you for a bit?

[There's a hurt here he doesn't quite understand, but he cares about Martin. He can at least try to soothe him.]

[ he squeezes the fingers still in his grip, turning his head as crowley cups his cheek to brush a kiss into his palm. ] I'm-- Um, I'm actually going to stay here a while, just-- [ his face goes hot, embarrassed at his own overprotective clinginess. ] Just in case. I just.. want to make sure Jon's going to be okay.

[ he doesn't really trust dorian to behave himself, but.. maybe he will. and maybe jon wants to be here, maybe their relationship is going to change. maybe they'll come to some sort of understanding. if that's so, martin shouldn't be in the way where dorian will clam up and get nasty. ]

He's just forgotten his phone, I guess, and Dorian's interesting.

[Now there's definitely no hiding his frown, though it sits somewhere between annoyed and concerned as Crowley cuts a glance to the door.]

Right, so, you asked him not to meet with Dorian, but here he is anyway, and you're just going to wait outside on the off chance he needs your help. Even though he's hurt you by doing this.

[Why does Martin keep doing this? Just allowing Jon to hurt him and get away with it. Being there to protect no matter how many times he fucks up? It makes no sense to him, he's sure love shouldn't be like this.]

[ he winces at the way crowley puts it, glancing away to stare at a spot on the floor. like that, it sounds.. bad. a little obsessive, actually, or pathetic at the very least. just.. ]

I know it doesn't look like it, but he is trying, [ he says softly, finally releasing crowley's hand to rub his palms atop his thighs. ] And I-- I've hurt him, too. We're, um.. learning. I-- I-- I haven't told him things that I should have, and.. I've been.. self-centered. [ he still doesn't like to think about his breakdown on a night when jon had been actually missing some aspect of his heart. that had been.. ugly.

he scrapes his nails over the back of his other hand, anxious and guilty, hating that he's dragged crowley into this. ] He loves me, and.. he needs me.

[The arch of his eyebrow at that self-centered comment is sharp and obvious, disbelief written all over his face. He's silent for a moment, wrestling with his anger and the temptation to throw open the door and tell Jon to go fuck himself, but he knows that wont help, not in the long run.

He wonders, deep down, if for Martin that he needs me is more important than he loves me.]

Look at me. [It's a little forceful, but his fingers are gentle as they guide Martin's gaze back up.] If it were me telling you this, if it were Aziraphale running around behind my back, lying to me and scaring me and hurting me, d'you think he loves me would be enough of an excuse to put up with it?

[This, he hopes, is the right way to get through to Martin, forcing him to look at things from an outside perspective, because Crowley knows he values himself so little that he'd burn himself down to nothing to keep other people warm, and then thank them for using him.]

[ his gut twists, making him nauseous, panic just there trying to take over. this was a mistake. he doesn't want crowley to think badly of jon when jon is trying. most of the time, anyway.

but his glance shoots up at the order, unmistakable for anything else, even if the fingers against his chin are gentle and familiar. crowley has always been so gentle with him, even when he doesn't really deserve it. even when he knows crowley must be.. frustrated.

and that example is.. unfair. of course martin would be furious if aziraphale was hurting crowley, of course he'd want to protect crowley, or at least say something. martin would be devastated if crowley was being treated badly by the man he'd loved for six-thousand years. ]

.. No. [ his lips part, then shut again, the stricken look returning. ] But I don't know what else to do, Crowley.

[What should Martin do is a question that he's not sure he knows the answer to; he only knows that this is so clearly hurting him, so obviously unhealthy. Martin is unhealthy. He's seen it in small snatches before, but he hadn't looked too deeply until now, not sure if it was a place where he was wanted.

But now he can't help but really wonder; does Martin stay with Jon because it feels good to be needed, to be loved by someone who has to be cared for, watched over, protected from themselves?]

You can't make him not a monster. He's got to make that choice. [Aziraphale was kind to him, gave him room to be kind in turn, but he never could've made Crowley the way he is, couldn't have forced it with guilt or love. He had to fight his nature every step of the way by his own choice.] And every time you look away, it seems he chooses wrong. He's not learning.

[Agnes. Elias. Now Dorian. Jon can't seem to help himself. Crowley can feel how intense the Eye is focused, can't help but suspect there's more than an innocent conversation happening in there.]

You've got to be either his boyfriend or his mum, not both. Trying that is going to kill you.

[ it's all so tangled up, and martin's so tired. not that long ago, things had looked so hopeful: they were going to try to make some kind of life here together, they were going to figure things out. but is it always going to be like this, no matter how little or how much time they have here? is jon always going to give in? is he always going to forget to talk to martin, to not think about scaring him and hurting him until it's already done?

but he'd gone into the lonely for him. jon told him about it, about how he'd followed martin in, pulled him back out, freed him. he loves martin, and he's maybe the only person who ever has or ever will.

the thought of it feels a lot like despair, actually.

in the room at his back, he can feel the pull of the watcher, the archivist's power to compel. he can very nearly see the scene-- dorian smug and enraptured, jon's hungry, heavy stare. martin never should have come here; it was always going to end this way. ]

.. I'm going to go home, [ he says at last, feeling emptied even of tears. ] I'm-- I'm sorry for wasting your time, Crowley. [ crowley hadn't signed up for this, and he definitely deserves more from martin than he's had lately. ]

[This isn't any kind of victory; Crowley might dislike Jon a lot, but he's never wanted to drive a wedge between these two, knowing that it would hurt Martin to come to these realizations.

He leans in, pressing his lips to Martin's brow, and in that instant they're back in his flat where they started.]

You're never a waste of time, love. [Even if it's for Jon.

He draws back, hoping to meet Martin's gaze, his head tilted to the side in question.] Tea, or wine? Or whiskey?

[He's not making his presence a question or an offer, he won't let it be something that Martin has to say yes to, because he knows he won't. He'll go, if he's told to, but until then he's going to help how he can.]

[ he stands in his flat, glancing around himself helplessly, feeling lost. he should.. do something, probably. water his plants, or think about starting dinner. he could clean the bathroom, or do some laundry, or work on the institute's expenses. there are a lot of things he could do, he's sure. but he can't make sense of any of them, and when he tries to let himself focus on any of the mundane tasks of the day, his thoughts drift away from them.

he sort of just wants to go away. completely away. the thought's not a strong one, though, any more than any of the others are, so he glances up when crowley speaks and offers an unconvincing smile. ]

Whiskey would be.. good. [ and then, to caveat: ] You don't have to stay. I-- I'm probably just going to take a nap. [ or maybe he'll put a stupid movie on. something easy, something he doesn't have to think about. ]

[Rather than address it directly, the offer for him to leave, Crowley decides the best course of action is to just take a little more control of the situation.

That want is lingering at the edge of his awareness, and he's not much a fan of Martin having those thoughts.]

Go get a bath started, yeah? I'll scare up some whiskey.

[He needs a second to text Aziraphale just to let him know that he won't be around for at least the evening, maybe tomorrow morning depending how this plays out. But he doesn't want to pull out his phone while Martin is around, so he kisses his forehead and heads to the kitchen to get a glass.]

[ he offers a small smile as thanks, grateful that crowley's staying even if the gratitude feels a little distant right now. maybe the other man's right. maybe he just needs a long bath and to get a little bit drunk. maybe he'll feel more like himself again afterward.

he turns to head toward the bathroom, stripping his clothes off once he gets there and starts the water. it's not.. terrible, is it? that jon was with dorian. jon has his own life, martin shouldn't be trying to control it. but he had asked him not to meet with him like that without talking about it first, like jon had asked martin not to.. give himself to people intending to hurt him.

is it the same thing? is it fair for martin to be upset with jon? his head hurts thinking about it, so he just.. doesn't, pushing it away again as he slides into the nearly scalding bath. ]

[He ends up summoning one of the bottles of whiskey from his own apartment, making a highball because he highly doubts that Martin is going to enjoy drinking it straight.

When he finds Martin in the bathroom, there's a glass in his hand and he's shed his jacket, sunglasses and boots and socks, making himself look a bit softer.]

Made you a whiskey highball, it's a strong one. [He stops at the back of the sunken tub, crouching down by Martin's shoulder, and holding out the glass.] Want some company in there or nah?

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