TMA Encore #16
Martin, Jon, Sasha, and Tim take in fresh air they never thought they’d breathe again and sunlight they never thought they’d feel again. They stare absently at the smoking hole where the Institute used to be. The persistent bustling of the town around them, totally unheeding of their presence, helps draw them out of their shock.
Both sets of Fears are still there. Distantly, but unmistakably. But the hold that the invading set had in the enigma has grown faint, like a droning noise suddenly absent. The world is still and quiet.
Jon feels half-blind–partially because his glasses are nowhere to be found.
The absence of hunger tells them that Not-Jon and Not-Martin are still out there.
After a long heavy silence, they begin to talk in low voices about what to do next. They did make it out, though no one can quite remember how. Their shaky progress has given them some tepid confidence. If they can get themselves away from here without incident, they could potentially rebuild some form of normalcy. The four of them could keep in touch, helping each other monitor their stability.
And they should hurry. There’s a rather uncomfortable feeling in the air.
The four of them do worry where the doubles could be, what they could be doing. But they can’t let themselves get distracted already. Maybe they can work on it later, if the two start making noticeable trouble.
Tim makes a Scooby-Doo joke. Everybody needed it.
They’ll definitely have to find new jobs too, they realize.
The pair uncoil. Jon looks into Martin’s eyes.
NJ: How bad is it?
Martin tries his best to look placid, but the pain of the hunger is evident on his face.
NM: It’s… bad.
NJ: I’ll help you work through it. I know some tricks to take the edge off. And, maybe we can find some better ways now. Less self-punishing.
NM: Sounds manageable.
Jon smooths his partner’s hair back and brushes his cheek with a thumb.
NM: How about you?
NJ: Better. So much better. I can’t believe I–
He swallows with difficulty.
NJ: Martin, I’m so sorry.
Martin nods.
NM: I am too.
Jon looks incredulous.
NJ: For what?
NM: For wasting time, I guess. We spent so long letting them make us miserable, and I didn’t even…I don’t feel like I was much better than you, in the end.
NJ: Well, they don’t get to tell us how to be miserable now.
The wind rustles the grass as the clouds pass their shadows over the pair.
NM: What do we do now?
Jon curls his lip thoughtfully.
NJ: We should probably make ourselves scarce. The police might be sweeping for arson suspects. And… maybe we should let you get more used to the hunger before we go anywhere around people.
NM: Right.
They hesitate. Jon stares into the trees. Martin can’t help doing the same.
NM: There’s definitely one of them among the EMTs.
NJ: Yep.
She reeks of Spiral.
Section 31 is on its way, too.
The surviving archival staff should really get going if they want to make it out clean.
There are more. Others. Moving and agitating, attracted to the vacuum of power. Yet, they’re small. Vulnerable. Containable.
It would be easy.
Jon tears his eyes away and squeezes Martin’s hand.
NJ: You wanna go for a walk?
He gestures at the open field behind them with a thumb.
Martin brightens.
NM: Sure.
They get up and start walking through the brush, hand in hand.
NM: So, if a tomb is out… You think we could go for a house? Probably abandoned, but hopefully not too falling-apart.
NJ: That’d be nice. Maybe something in the country.
NM: ...Oh! And we still need to go let Gerry out of the book.
NJ: Oh, yeah. Definitely.
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