Work Text:
Gerry liked Helen. He had been admittedly worried about meeting her. Not because of the whole Distortion thing, but because Jon had called her a friend; and as he understood it? Jon had a very loose sense of the word. Which had not been a fun thing to find out after the man’s third breakdown about how his so-called friends/coworkers treated him at work and having to inform him that no, that was not typical friend behavior even in the stressful situation that was the archives.
Helen seemed different though. They had met up in a bar with a band playing loudly and Helen had immediately taken Jon’s hand with a gentleness he wouldn’t have expected from how sharp her hands looked and dragged him off to dance.
They were still dancing, bright colors seemed to come off of them as Helen threw Jon for another spin. She seemed to regard Jon with some type of amused, endeared, fondness, that made Gerry’s racing heart beat a little slower in his chest.
When had he become so overprotective? He supposes it is warranted. They had met as Jon died in his arms and came back to life as an avatar of Beholding for god’s sake. Jon had been the first face he’d seen in years and had gotten him out of that damned book. Avatar of The End or not it had been hard to watch Jon die the first time and he had barely known him. Now that he was what, friends with him? Gerry wasn’t quite sure how to characterize their relationship.
Jon had added Gerry to the lease on his apartment recently. His time on the couch had slowly shifted to the unused side of Jon’s mattress. They comforted each other after the nightmares that were starting to become commonplace. They cuddled on the couch to watch bad horror movies and nature documentaries. They hadn’t gone on any dates…
Except for the fact that they kind of had. They went out to dinner and a walk in the park last week. They had held hands and everything. The waitress had commented that they were a “cute couple”, and Jon hadn’t refuted it. Hell, Gerry hadn’t refuted it, too lost in debating the worst Leitner books the other one had come across and…
Holy shit
He was dating Jonathan Sims and neither of them had noticed. How the fuck did that happen?
Helen was looking over at his table now, seemingly noticing his crisis, and smiled. It’s too bright and too dim and there are too many teeth and not enough teeth and other confusing impossibilities as her curly hair gets impossibly curlier.
She walks back over to the table and her grin resembles more of a shark smelling blood.
“So, the Archivist tells me you worked under his predecessor. How did that go?” Her voice was static, similar to Jon’s except there was more of a buzz that coated every word rather than the soft tape recorder like hum that backdropped every word the other man said.
He was monologuing about the difference between the static in Helen and Jon’s voices. He had noticed the difference in the first place. He was in deep.
“I ended up in a book in a London cemetery before becoming an avatar of The End. How do you think it went?” He says trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but it just turned it bitter. To be fair, it wasn’t Gertrude’s fault Gerry had cancer, but she had put him in a fucking book and dropped him in a mausoleum. So, she was definitely still at fault here.
To his surprise, Helen laughed, it was loud and a little terrifying. Helen at first glance could probably pass as human, that laugh, however, could not.
“I like you.” She says pointing a far too sharp finger at his face.
“I think I like you too.” He says more or less honestly. She could make Jon smile, a skill he was only partially fluent in.
“Do you think you could get us drinks Archivist?” She asks even though it sounds more like a demand.
“Only if you stop calling me that.” He responds but the avatar was already getting up.
Once Jon was what Helen must have deemed a reasonable distance away she turns to him giving another smile that could shatter glass.
“I see someone has a crush on our resident Archivist.” She looks amused a little smug and very proud of Gerry’s face turning red.
“I—don’t have a good response for that.” He says picking at his nail polish.
“You don’t need a good response. Just the right one.” She teases, or maybe that was a warning.
“You have any advice?” He asks genuinely curious.
She raises her eyebrow at the question. “Talk to him about it, and remember my hallways always have room for one more.”
“My dear Helen, are you giving me the shovel talk?”
She seems surprised and taps her fingers to her chin like she’s thinking about it.
“Yes, I suppose I am.” She looks a little proud at that, tilting her head up and crossing her legs, black heels linking together.
“He likes you, a lot.” Gerry doesn’t know why he feels like he has to say that, but he does.
Helen’s smile changes again at that. Something softer.
“The Archivist is a good friend. He comforted Helen, back before she was the Distortion, He wanted to help her, to protect her and he couldn’t, but he tried. Helen didn’t forget that, even if Helen is me now. The Archivist—Jon is a good friend, take care of him.” She says quietly.
“I will.”
“Good.”
“You two seem to be getting along well.” Jon says setting drinks in front of the two of them.
Helen's smile could shatter several realities.
***
The drinking and the dancing and the talking had been fun but the night was winding down. Helen offered a door but they had both refused on account of how close they were to their apartment.
It had taken a minute to gather the courage to ask but never let it be known that Gerard Keay wasn’t a brave man.
“Hey, Jon?”
“Yeah?”
“What are we?”
Jon freezes in the middle of the sidewalk and Gerry’s worried he’s broken the other man’s brain.
“Well, what do you want this to be?” Jon asks hesitantly.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Um, well, we sleep in the same bed, and use the same toothpaste, and I helped you dye your hair last week. So, whatever that means I suppose.” Jon says somehow hesitating even more in the cold London air.
“Does that mean dating?” Gerry asked because he’s pretty sure that’s what that means. He hopes that’s what that means.
“Yes! Er—yes.” Jon says excitedly before curbing his enthusiasm for a second more careful agreement.
It was adorable.
“Well, then. Would you make me the happiest avatar of The End in all of London and be my boyfriend?”
Jon snorts and tries and fails to school his grin into something more professional.
“But of course, if you do the same for me?”
“I would be honored.”
“You guys are such nerds.” A familiar voice called out from behind them.
“Helen!”