kayakking | (no subject)

[Jonah had intended to stay home.

He wanted to, until he found out the truth.

But he'll always wonder now. Was it really his decision that he came? Was it going to happen no matter what?

Jonah will never know.

He slumps a bit more, hearing Tim. What does it matter.]

We are. And... Fine. [He takes a slow breath before pulling away from Tim, readjusting his shirt to keep the crack in his scar from being seen now. Up to his feet.] Fine, it's my fault.

[ UGH. Algric makes a face, instinctively wanting to protest THAT too. He also smoulders dimly in Tim's direction, though at least that isn't a surprise. He's ... sunk, isn't he. Worse, he deserves it, probably. ]

I'm not - I'm not saying it's your fault, I'm just - you can't be mad at me for trying to prevent the exact mess we ended up in!

Edited 2021-07-18 13:19 (UTC)

Look! Look. Lets argue this at home, and not in the middle of the five thousand tape recorders, closed caption tvs and whatever mastrabatory instruments Elias has in here.

Lets focus on the fact we have a lot of blood and a body, make sure we're all okay and then go home and yell at each other.

[ And oh, oh he's going to. ]

[Jonah has already moved on, looking over the body and the mess. His voice is just... quiet. And a little cracked.]

Take the body to Jarod. He... he can dispose of it. I can deal with the CCTV.

[ God damn it, he greatly prefers the yelling. It's worse yelling at a Jon who just crumples instead. And if Algric can't be angry, then ...

Then he's going to be guilty instead. He looks down at Elias's body, letting the fog creep over it. ]

I - I don't know if Jared is a good idea. Tim, can you. Ah. Burn it?

You know, a year ago if he was told he'd be burning the body of his boss's boss after ... good lord what even just happened?

"Yeah, I uh, I think so. You should both probably clear out." Control hasn't been the name of the game today.

[Something in his shoulders tense and he has to work his jaw a second to keep the words back.]

Whatever you like.

[Jonah looks down at his hands, then sets the letter opener carefully back on the desk before turning to leave without another word or look at them.]

[ Algric gives Jon a look at that. ]

He just means - look, the fire is new -

[ He exits after Jon. ]

[ Tim drags his fingers down his face, leaving unnoticed little furrows in the wax. He'll... he'll work that out in a few minutes. He takes a long, steadying breath, and the glass of water on Elias' desk starts to bubble... ]

[ Outside, Rosie pulls back from the door as Jonah comes out, pale and heart racing. ] Mr. Sims! Sir I...

[That-

Startles him enough to stop. And stare.]

Rosie, why are you here? You should've left hours ago. Go-go home. Forget all of this.

Mr. Bouchard was-

[ She looks at him, wide and watching. ]

Yes. Yes, I will.

[ Algric is there, but she can't see him, can she?

He holds his breath, letting Jon work. ]

[For all his anger and hurt, he's genuinely concerned that Rosie was stuck here to... what? Witness? Hear the horrors? He wishes he could fix it.]

If anyone asks, you went home at end of business day. All right?

[ She can't see or hear him at all. Just another draft... ]

Of course.

[ But then her eyes fix on Jonah, that brilliant, insidious curiosity welling up like the damning trait it is in this building. ]

Will anyone...? Ask that is?

...They might. I'm not sure, honestly. But, it's - It's all right. You won't be involved in any of this. You can leave, if you want.

[What a reality that is. They can all leave now.]

Edited (THIS KEYBOARD DROPS LETTERS) 2021-07-18 14:25 (UTC)

Right... Yes.

[ She gathers up her purse and the coat she always wears. The drafts were terrible in this part of the building. ]

See-I'll see you tomorrow, then?

...Yes. Tomorrow. Get some rest.

[He'll watch her go, then start hurriedly making his way down to Archives to clean up.]

[ Algric hesitates there, wanting to help, but also Tim is still upstairs, and - ]

Jon?

[He got as far as rolling his sleeves up, then deciding to roll them down and rinse them out as well but stops. Eyes focused down.]

What?

Do you - if you need help -

I'm fine.

[It's clipped, short. Trying to keep back the anger from upstairs since it's unwarranted. He gets his hands rinsed off, splashes his face and just... Sees himself. Sees the green hand-shaped splotches and catches his breath.]

Fairly certain I can handle washing my own face.

[Well. Maybe a little bite.]

That's not what I meant.

[ A misty shadow slips in behind him, murky in the reflection but still visible. ]

Then what did you mean?

[It's... This shirt is ruined. No salvaging it. He starts unbuttoning the dress shirt and shucks it to the corner, not really caring about the very physical, visible crack in his ice scar, or the new burn scars here and there. He's focused on not looking at Algric and finding those extra clothes his younger self stored away here.]

[ Oh -

Whatever Algric was going to say is swallowed up by the horror of that cracking going through Jonah’s shoulder. God, it’s even worse than he thought.

He reaches out a hand for it. Hesitates. ]

You’re hurt, Jon. God, your shoulder is…

[He pulls away from the cold, shrinking a bit.] Don't.

[A breath. And then starts pulling the spare clothes on -a cheap shirt and a hoodie.]

Just tell me what you meant.