Broken Archive

[beholding_archivist]

WHO: Jon, Tony & Tae
WHERE: The library
WHAT: While the murder investigation is going on, the local Archivist is mysteriously getting sick. Coincidence?
WHEN: While everyone else is trying to figure out who tried to unalive Richie
WARNINGS: %



It has been a fairly normal day. From getting up to grabbing some coffee, getting swarmed by mothcats to once again contemplating the armor Tony had given him. The armor Jon still hasn't made much use of unless he wanted to move it to a different spot. It just doesn't feel right to use it and somehow Jon is still waiting for Tony to reclaim it for himself. But whatever Tony is going through, Jon refuses to probe the man's mind. He possibly could, yes. But Tony would hate it. So Jon doesn't. It's simple.

It wasn't until later that day that Jon started feeling off. He didn't think much of it at first. Being sick has always been something he has simply endured. Though that, in theory, he shouldn't be getting sick anymore wasn't really something that came to mind at that point in time.

But he started feeling worse. And then even worse than that. His focus was slipping away from him and his surroundings that should be familiar to him became more and more alien. He found himself tripping through hallways he should know but that have turned into a maze. A maze that seemed to flicker with static before his eyes as he tried finding his way, the slightest sliver of light piercing viciously through his eyes and into his scull to the point where he began to feel physically ill.

That he eventually made his way to Tony's workshop might be a miracle. But he does. And when he finally stumbles into Tony himself Jon manages to mutter some incoherent nonsense before his entire world twists into a mess of sheer impossible shapes.

Jon is vaguely aware of the voices - or is it one voice? And the movement - Though there may be none at all. What he at least remains certain of is that Tony is there. Thugh if Tony is trying to ask Jon any questions, he won't be getting much of a reply. All he will get is a feverish Archivist trying to cling to whatever he can grasp.

From Jon's perspective nothing makes sense anymore. He only feels horrendous and without any idea where he is or what is happening. He can't follow the conversation that may or may not be happening and he may or may not be picking up on the faint knocking sound of someone that may or may not arrive at the library.

There is one thing Jon is certain of, however. And that is that he can't See...

Comments

[in_extremis]

Anyone stumbling into the workshop was alarming. Then, in a matter of seconds, the tools that had been in Tony's hands seemed like a lifetime ago, a frivolous bit of tinkering that some other body had been doing. His panic had to be pressed into a diamond to shove behind his heart and shred with every beat so he could focus, try to make sense of Jon's words, and keep Jon upright to try to meet his eye. Holding his chin tightly didn't stop his glassy eyes from sliding, only burned an undeniable fever against Tony's hand.

It was long minutes, in which the workshop had burst in a riot of colour as all of Tony's displays lit up with what he knew and what he could ascertain, disparate parts of half-crafted armor hovered around them to sense temperature, heart rate, blood pressure, and Tony had drawn them down to the floor to hold Jon securely against his chest where he could feel the rumble of his voice even if he didn't really understand it and as Tony continued to talk in increasingly shorter, sharper bursts as the logical path became clear. Long minutes, before he finally fell quiet, and patted restless, soothing patterns up Jon's sides, and had to admit that he wasn't fixing this and, worse, he was going to have to tell someone else that Jon was vulnerable. His texts to Tae were short and mechanical, with the diagnostic information that he had been able to gather, and he regretted them almost immediately. Definitely in the wait that followed, and profoundly when she arrived at the workshop, where Tony squeezed around Jon defensively to keep him in the security of this armor that Tony had built, and looked to Tae like she was a threat that had just invaded his territory.

[butterfly_kiss]

This was not the day that Tae had been anticipating. No, her intention had been to test out those new flowers that seemed to have sedative properties that the Pup's older brother had brought her while she waited for more samples from him. Which of course she was not going to get her hands on any time soon.

Instead, with a full response and supply bag over her shoulder, clad in actual scrubs and with tennis shoes on (which just went to show how seriously she had taken Tony's contact because she hadn't worn things like this since medical school), Tae entered the workshop.

"My dear, if you keep glowering like that, your face will get stuck that way. Which would hardly be a way to thank Mr. Sims when he is better. Now, might we move him to at least a seat if not a bed?"

[in_extremis]

That was a sure way to get Tony to glower even harder, only to reluctantly accept that his intensity was immediately and handily diffused by the reminder that Jon was going to get better. That was a future that Tony was having a hard time seeing as he breathed the sour smell of Jon's fever sweat, and cleaved to it in Tae's voice with a desperation. "Thanks," he remembered to say, though clipped and only with an apologetic tip of his head in place of a greeting, as he relented and tried to ease some of the tension out of his chest. Carefully, he started to encourage Jon up, then immediately abandoned that thought to pick him up himself as he stretched to his feet, cradling him possessively as he glanced around the workshop that he didn't want to leave. Unfortunately, it hadn't exactly been designed for comfort.

He bought himself some time by explaining, "I've never seen him sick," which maybe didn't sound that serious now that he heard it, making him grimace, so he tried instead, "I think he's trying to tell me something." That was when he had to move, because he could feel an embarrassing sting in his throat that threatened to break his voice over the guilt of not understanding Jon. He tossed his head then, suddenly impatient, for Tae to follow, skipping the bedroom where she would have to contend with the hammock, to take them to Jon's office instead.

A pair of mothcats had to be shooed away from the couch for Tony to carefully set Jon down, which only climbed back up into place on his warm body, purring happily.

[butterfly_kiss]

Oh Tony, she forgives you the glower. She's seen many parents act like that over children. And men and women both over their lovers. Even if such overt displays are less common where she's from, she can still determine the source of the friction and concern.

Thankfully she has already managed to redirect him, and is content to follow him, though she is contemplating that statement.

'I've never seen him sick.'

Never.

Tae follows and considers this. While illness is less common here she's treated sniffles and colds, and other illnesses just bouncing through their human population. Sure, with a smaller body of people who mostly came in healthy it was not as common. But there was always going to be something.

And this... This is strange.

"Tony, might I ask you to clarify? When you say that you have never seen him sick, do you mean you have never seen him this ill, or has he just never presented with any form of illness while here to your knowledge?"

[in_extremis]

The question made Tony itch, like it was accusatory, and he had to defend himself for not being observant enough, or being overly so, and gave him the energy to move restlessly when he wanted to stay close to Jon, to instead stalk through the office to drag the chair from behind the desk and position it with a wave of his hand next to the couch in a way that looked very sarcastic for an offer. While he moved, his hands were up to catch the boundaries of Tae's question, like he could couch any answer he had in a way that wasn't incriminating as he chattered, "I don't see a lot of people around here sick, I guess, you know, it's a weird situation, you get the flu at home it's because you shook hands with eighty people that day and took the train to Coney Island, of course you got sick, and you just knock back some pills and a b12 shot and ignore it, but you get the flu here it's like the Dark Ages, that could be a life sentence, he could be dying." All of that talking was supposed to be steering them away from the immediate reality, and Tony had to take a breath as he had clearly lost control of the wheel. He dropped down onto his knees where he could try to meet Jon's eye again. All of that talking wasn't helping, so he had to finally answer, "I didn't think he was sick. He's never had a fever like this. But look at his eyes, the way he doesn't understand me--Jon? Boss, listen, tell Dr. Tae what you ate today." That part was familiar, and not something that Tony had ever registered as an illness before.

[butterfly_kiss]

Dying. Yes, Tae doubted that just yet. She was here and she would not let that happen if she could help it. And she was very good at helping him. She settles into the chair Tony pulled over and reaches into her bag to produce a thermometer.

Something told her Jon was not going to be quick on the responding, given how silent he had been so far.

"While illness has been less common, it hasn't been unheard of here. We're just dealing with different bugs. I've also found we sometimes get a cold popping between some people when a new arrival comes, but we haven't had many of those recently."

Except for an important pair she didn't know about.

"Your concern is good, Tony. I do thank you for it. I was asking for clarifying purposes because it seems I should not expect answers from him."