J o n a t h a n J. C r a s s Research assistant | Coffee addict | Workaholic You have arrived at the office of agent Jonathan Crass. How can I be of assistance? I can give you service in any area you'd like or need, at any given time, provided it's a few levels above "impossible"; although with some encouragement I'll jump right into that as well. As expected this job takes me to a variety of locations, so please use a pager or phone if you need me. If you lack these, you're most likely to find me in my office at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ's, at the Research and Development department. Research is my major. Anything you need, I'll dig it up. M!A: None (bring it)(I dare you) FC: Gabriel Macht
Jon was right. Everything he said was right. This was the voice of a man who was panicked, sure, but not so much that he was out of his mind. Hati was genuinely impressed by the guy’s ability to-
"Hold up, did you say white? Your whole eye? Like totally white?”
Oizys.
No. Not her.
"You uh… been dealin’ with anythin’ of the uh… supernatural variety there bud? Y’know, investigatin’ old ruins, that kinda thing."
Maybe making a visit to a certain club on the edge of town…
Before Jon could answer, Hati was already heading out the door.
"Stay there. Stay calm and uh… don’t… don’t lose focus. I’ll be there soon."
This was a terrible idea, but Jon was mortal. He was breakable and Hati wasn’t willing to let some demon/magic/bullshit whatever hurt his friend, his bro.
"Yeah, my whole eye! No iris or pupil, no nothing, which doesn't make sense - how the hell can I see anything without a pupil? Not that I would call this seeing-" As he lifted his head to look the apartment over the imagery that met him was too much and his voice broke off mid-sentence. He fell back into his couch, leaning his head over the edge so all he had to look at was the cieling. "Hati, it's me. It's- do I strike you like the kind of guy to go looking for ghosts and demons?"
Well, there was the one time with Coyol, but she never messed him up in any way.
Jonathan laughed joylessly again when he was told to stay calm.
"Where the hell would I go?" Rhetorical question, of course. But he would be here soon. Hati would be there. And if any of Jonathan's friends knew about weird stuff, it was Hati. He exhaled shakily. "Don't... don't take too long, alright? It's getting worse."
Hati frowned, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Whatever this was, Jon thought it was a big deal. It took a lot for Jon to react this way. Hel, Hati was pretty sure he’d never heard Jon curse, save for the first time they’d met…
"Okay, chill dude. Is this some kinda medical thing? Are you hurt, or is this a… uh… mental thing? You trippin’?"
Did Jon do anything besides alcohol? Hati highly doubted it.
"You been drinkin’ buddy?"
But the agent’s voice had sounded… off, somehow. There was lilt and tremor that didn’t belong there. It had to be more than booze.
Jonathan let out a short, flat laugh - more like an exhale than anything - when Hati started throwing suggestions. Two hours had given him plenty time to think about what was going on with him, and everything Hati said he'd already covered and dismissed. No alcohol, no drugs, no medication, no poison... And even then, what god damn kind of drug or medication would give the side effect of white eye balls? Seriously?
He shook his head, then once more to try and get rid of the buzzing in his temples.
"Do you think I would call you for advice if I'd been drinking and ended up like this? I would be at the hospital," he said, having to take a few extra breaths before he spoke so he wouldn't snap. Jonathan was scared. He didn't have time for being polite. "No. What kind of alcohol would even make your eyes go completely white? I- I can't even see normally, everything looks off."
The bar was dead. He’d been thinking about closing up early, but the truth was that these days Hati ran the place out of spite. He wanted anyone and everyone to know that it was most definitely Business As Usual.
That, and sleeping meant quiet time. Quiet meant thought. Thought meant memory, and he didn’t particularly feel like going down that rabbit-hole.
His guitar-solo ringtone screeching from his pocket made for a welcome distraction, though he was a little surprised to see that the call came from Jon at this hour.
Something was wrong. He knew it in his gut.
"Hey man," he said as he flicked the phone open. "What’s up? You okay?"
Jonathan had expected some rowdy greeting, the way he usually did - and after that wasn't what he got, he wished it had been. He was feeling really uneasy about the situation the way it was, so when Hati came through with a nearly concerned voice, it made it worse. Jonathan let out a shaky breath and lifted the phone from his ear for a moment, forming the hand holding onto his hair into a fist. Don't panic. Just don't fucking panic.
"Something's wrong," he managed to get out, still unsure of what to say. "As in, 'wrong' past the level of a hospital. Past... past the level of what SHIELD deals with. I don't know what the fuck is going on."
He paused, thinking back to the one time he'd found Hati beyond himself, with black eyes. His were white, and it made him think about that.
The nightmares had been increasing. The normal amount would come to three or four a month. In the past five days he'd had eight: one for each night and another for each nap he'd taken to try and catch up on the sleep lost. They were always equally chaotic; filled with inhumanely large flames, engulfing everything he touched or looked at, chasing him for hours until it inevitably caught him and forced him awake, screaming and clutching the sheets. Then come the morning he woke up on the floor, so tangled in the sheets he felt strangled. And instantly, Jonathan knew something was wrong.
He squinted at his room from the floor, finding his vision blurry and... intensely saturated. Everything seemed to be glowing and buzzing in a static, white light, and no matter how much he rubbed his eyes and blinked it didn't falter. The buzzing quality to his vision recurred in his limbs, all of him shivering and twitching. But not until he got up and saw himself in the mirror - seeing a pair of stark, white eyeballs looking back at him, did he begin to panic.
It took another two hours of walking around in controlled panic, getting a pair of pants and a tshirt on, and walking several laps around the apartment until he finally called the single person in his contact list he thought could help him. He didn't know what to say, so he just breathed into the phone, grasping his head and waiting for Hati to pick up.
❝ This stays between us.” Keamy demanded, then sighed deeply, looking around with quick, darting eyes, running a large hand through his short brown hair.
"What does?" Jonathan asked, eyebrows sceptically sky-high. He used a finger to gesture the space between the two men. "This empty space between us?" A smile slowly grew to his lips, teasing the other. Oh yes, he could feign ignorance.
"Weird? Ever heard of joy? Having a good day? Impeccable charm?"
Right. Not pressing your luck with the man with retractable metallic claws. Right.
"I could aid you in the direction of Director Fury’s office, but I can’t guarantee you that he’ll be there. It’s a general misconception that us agents actually know where he is most of the time.”
"Do I look like I’m in the mood for it today, bub?" Logan said icily. "If I were you, I’d get on with the directions"
Fury had better be in his office. He didn’t want to come in at all and he didn’t like Nick thinking he was at his beck and call. If he made him wait now, things were going to get ugly.
Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at Logan, still smiling. "Sue me."
"I'll take you," he said the second after and getting up from his desk, grabbing a folder filled with papers on the way, walking past Logan and out of his office. He had to drop some paperwork upfloors anyway. "You need a pass to get past the 20th floor. How come you don't have his number?... well, one of them."
Jonathan paused, glancing down at his full handtailored suit - one out of a great handful sitting in his closet at home. New rule?
"I am unaware of this ‘new’ rule. Must’ve passed me by." Somehow. He seemed to come to, blinking and straightening up in his chair, shuffling some paper around on his desk. “Sure can do. When’s your assignment due?” Hehe. That rhymed.
"Okay, it’s always been a rule it’s just that I got caught not wearing one when I was supposed to" Ben admitted, he was only good at stealth when he wanted to be.
"I’m going to leave on a plane to do surveillance on him on Wednesday so anytime between now and then would be great"
Jonathan laughed at the confession, smiling brightly at the other Before returning to moving the paperwork around.
"Well, you tried. The effort counts," he said before pulling the keyboard to him and clattering away at the keys. "Screw Wednesday, I can get it done in five. You can take a seat, if you like."
"You can stop bein’ weird and tell me where the hell Fury is. I don’t have time for this shit today." This was why he hated working with SHIELD. Paperwork and meetings. They wanted to know what his plan was and to make sure he was going to stick to it. Government organisations, they were all the same.
"Weird? Ever heard of joy? Having a good day? Impeccable charm?"
Right. Not pressing your luck with the man with retractable metallic claws. Right.
"I could aid you in the direction of Director Fury's office, but I can't guarantee you that he'll be there. It's a general misconception that us agents actually know where he is most of the time."
"I-uh kind of. New rule about wearing suits in the HQ" Ben quickly said, he’d much rather be in something that was more comfortable to hide his tail in.
"Hey, I-um. I need a full background on an Emile Charles for my next assignment, please?"
Jonathan paused, glancing down at his full handtailored suit - one out of a great handful sitting in his closet at home. New rule?
"I am unaware of this 'new' rule. Must've passed me by." Somehow. He seemed to come to, blinking and straightening up in his chair, shuffling some paper around on his desk. "Sure can do. When's your assignment due?" Hehe. That rhymed.
Amelia crossed her legs in the red dress. “Sir. I’m just here to apply for the job. I’m not here to flirt.” She replied with a sassy tone. She had been waiting for this interview to help with research for two weeks.
"Who said I was asking for flirting?" Jonathan asked, raising an eyebrow; making it clear he was just messing around. "And don't stab me in the sternal for saying so, but your dress doesn't quite say 'job interview'. Red being the colour of passion and blood and all that hinky-jinky."
Jonathan Crass @jonathanatyourservice - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag