Chapter Text
Jon assumed it was either Tim or Martin sighing, though the sigh stopped before he could redirect his gaze to either of them to be certain; either way, though it appeared directed against Jon’s own words more than anything else, Jon couldn’t say he entirely disagreed with the sentiment. It had been a long day already, and it was still only the middle of the afternoon, with plenty of time for more surprises to lurk just around the corner.
“There’s got to be something that’ll prove what they’re saying is true.” Martin eventually said. “At least hypothetically, or else you’re just being paranoid for no reason.”
“Not like that’d be anything new.” Tim muttered under his breath.
Jon thought for a moment. Now that Martin mentioned it, he didn’t have any concrete ideas for how Jonny and Kay could prove that they really were versions of Jon and Martin rather than shapeshifters out to steal their identity or some such, but Jon could see the merit in Martin’s argument just the same. But if it was more evidence he needed...
“They left their bags with us. We could look at what’s in there, see if the contents make their true identity any clearer.”
Jon had expected Martin to jump at the idea, but instead he looked as uncomfortable as ever. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Didn’t they say not to do that?”
“They didn’t, actually. All they said was that they thought their bags would be safe here.”
“While talking about us like we weren’t even here,” Tim added, “Which was really rather rude of them.”
Martin visibly deflated as he let out a long breath that fell just short of a proper sigh. “It’s still an invasion of privacy.”
“Can’t be as bad as stalking someone’s flat.” Tim said with a meaningful look at Jon; Jon, for his part, tried and failed to convince himself that Tim was referring to what Martin had been doing when he’d first encountered Jane Prentiss.
“And if it helps settle any suspicions, it’ll be well worth it.” Jon cleared his throat as he stood up and took a few steps towards the bags in question. “They probably won’t even know it happened so long as we’re careful about it.”
Martin still looked unconvinced, eyes wide and face pale, but after a moment of hesitation, he nodded. “Alright then. So long as you’re sure.”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far, but I’m willing to take the blame if if comes to that.”
“The least you could do.” Tim said in a voice low enough that Jon wasn’t actually sure he was meant to hear it.
Tim and Jon stood up almost in unison, with Martin only a step or two behind as the three of them approached Jonny and Kay’s bags, two stuffed and grimy-looking backpacks that both looked entirely unfamiliar to Jon. (If they really were from the future, well, Jon must not have bought that particular backpack yet.)
“Should we pick one to go through first? Either of you have a preference?”
Jon and Martin looked at one another for a moment before shaking their heads.
“I don’t recognize them, so I wouldn’t know which one was ‘mine’ to begin with.” Jon said.
“...yeah, same here. Guess we can just pick one at random.”
A moment of indecision, and then Tim grabbed the closer of the two, a backpack which looked to be a musty green underneath all of its grime. Just unzipping the thing was enough to send a bit of unpleasant-looking dust out into the rest of the Archives, and Jon had to stifle a cough.
“Oh, this has to be Jon’s- well, future Jon’s, anyway.”
“Jonny’s.” Jon corrected before shaking his head a bit as the words sank in. “What makes you say that?”
Tim shoved the backpack Jon’s way. “Just take a look.”
Jon did so, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little as the reason behind Tim’s certainty about the backpack’s ownership became clear. A tape recorder was sitting near the top, and about a dozen cassette tapes were crammed into the backpack, threatening to spill out if it were unzipped any further.
“You know, I still don’t exactly like tape recorders.”
“Doesn’t stop you from using them, though.”
Jon made a noncommittal grunt in response as he looked through the other contents of Jonny’s backpack. There were a handful of loose pieces of papers seemingly thrown in there at random; at a glance, Jon didn’t know what they were or what their purpose might be, but they might be worth a closer look later. The backpack also contained, among other things, a small torch, a roll of duct tape, matches, a whistle, and several safety pins scattered across the bottom.
“On to Mart- er, Kay’s now?”
A few nods of agreement, and they moved on.
Some of the contents of Kay’s backpack weren’t terribly surprising: a thin blanket, a handful of teabags, another whistle and torch. Some weren’t outrageous, but made Jonny wonder what spurred on their inclusion: a long thread of rope, a crowbar, several maps of what looked to be the entirety of Great Britain with an X in northern Scotland and London circled.
(There was one notebook that Martin grabbed immediately and refused to let the other two look at, even after Jon confessed that he’d read Martin’s poetry before, that it couldn’t have gotten much worse in the future.)
And then...
“Martin, why the hell do you have so many knives?”
“What?” Martin inched closer as Tim brought the offending knives out of Kay’s backpack. “Oh, that’s- the way you said that, I thought it’d be more than that.”
“What d’you mean? That’s a lot of knives for someone to carry around!”
“Three knives isn’t that many, really! And the one’s a Swiss army knife, a, a multitool, that barely even counts as a knife-”
Tim held up the knife in question, extending its blade, which was admittedly fairly small. “But it is still a knife, you know, legally speaking-”
“I didn’t think we were speaking legally, just look how thick that handle is, there’s got to be loads of other tools in there-”
Jon cleared his throat, mostly in order to get Tim and Martin’s attention and stop their argument in the making. “What do the other two knives look like, then?”
“Well, this one’s a bit bigger, and it’s clearly not a multitool-”
“...I think I recognize that one, actually. From when I carried around a knife for a bit. Looks like the same knife.”
Tim squinted at Martin. “Since when did you carry around a knife?”
“Since Prentiss attacked me! Thought it’d be good to get worms out, at least until I came up with the corkscrew idea. Never had to use it, thankfully, but...”
Tim let out an exaggerated shudder. “Lovely.”
“And I thought the corkscrew was bad...” It was only too easy for Jon to picture that knife being thrust into his skin, being stabbed to remove the worms burrowing their way inside of him, his flesh being cut up like a piece of meat... no, all things considered, the corkscrew was the lesser evil there.
“Don’t suppose you recognize the other one, then?”
This knife was big, even by non-portable knife standards, Jon was pretty sure. A butcher’s knife, perhaps? One that was big and sharp and didn’t lend itself as easily to uses beyond simple violence, cutting up meat dead or alive.
“I mean, I think it’s the one he- Kay was gonna use on that Not-Sasha thing, but other than that? No idea.”
“Why would Kay even need to carry around a knife like that?” Jon took a closer look at the knife, tried to determine whether the dirt on it was simply dust and debris from being carried around or something more sinister, but to no avail. “Did he... did he use it on someone?”
“He didn’t, no.”
Jon gulped as he heard his own voice calling out, fast footsteps approaching--how much had Jonny and Kay heard?
“Martin hasn’t had to hurt anyone with that knife. He’s certainly not a murderer. Unlike yours truly, that is.”
Kay protested with a quick “Jon!”, but it wasn’t enough to avert Jon’s attention from the implications of what Jonny had just admitted to. Jon’s throat suddenly felt like sandpaper.
“...are you going to kill us too, then?” Tim didn’t sound terribly afraid of the prospect--angry, perhaps, but not afraid--and his fingers wrapped themselves around the handle of Kay’s biggest knife as he looked up at the duo.
“Jon, you’re scaring them.”
“I have no intention of killing you, no. But since you went digging through our stuff, and probably found some confusing things in there...”
Jon’ stomach sank.
“...perhaps it’s time the two of us give the rest of you a proper explanation.”