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The baby appeared in the dining room in the dead of night.
Not a sound passed from its pale lips… far too pale against its dark complexion. So pale that the maid who found the child thought it had died. It barely moved… it didn't utter a sound… simply waited until the Tundra docked and Peter Lukas came home.
Mordechai Lukas was waiting beside the child when Peter appeared, panicked, from the fog. But there was no explanation needed…
Mordechai knew just as Peter did that the latter had been chosen… that Peter was to raise the Forsaken Son.
"Papa!"
Tiny feet skid across wet sand as a boy no older than five thunders up onto the dock and past the few sailors that descend from the paranormal ship. His pale blue eyes are rounded with awe when he feels his mother's touch threaded into the metal and wood, coaxing him to ascend the ramp and explore the Tundra's hidey-holes.
But the man at the top of the ramp catches his gaze and smiles so goofily that it's hard to reconcile his name and status with his expression. He descends the ramp before Jon can step foot on it and sweeps his son into a hug.
"Hello, little one, did you slip your minders again?"
Jon nods slowly and whispers, "mama told me you were home."
Peter hums knowingly, feeling the lonely press around them in a way so reminiscent of her sister's smothering touch. "Did she help you sneak out too?"
Jon brightens considerably and babbles on about how it was extra foggy around the estate with the changing of the seasons. He speaks of the minders (two this morning since Peter wasn't expected to dock until the day after) and how they promised to play hide and seek if he just sat down and finished his maths lesson. He sped through it and got all of his homework right because he's a smart boy, even if he's not always on task, and once they began to play…
"...I pushed Miss Maggie into the fog and dumped her out in the cellar. Mr. Robert was hiding too, so he didn't know I ran off!" Jon looks so delighted with his antics that Peter can't bring himself to scold the boy, but that doesn't mean he was ready for the question. "Can I come next time?"
Peter knows in his heart that the boy would do well at sea, but he would one day want to return to land and find solitude there. He knows that there are years before the eldritch will be ready to find his own place in this world, but...
"Maybe."
Jon smiles at the woman in a pale blue dress and offers his hand in invitation. She's alone in the station, waiting for a train that may never arrive…
He calls to her loneliness, asks her to just take his hand and follow him. He'll be beside her until the end, allow her to escape the cycle of bitter emptiness. It's a tempting thought, one so seductive that she almost takes his offer...
Then his phone rings.
Jon swears internally as the woman seems to realize that the station, while fairly empty, still contains faces she's seen before. She contemplates waiting for him to finish the call, but the train home finally arrives. She shyly bids him a good night and hops on the train, writing off her experience as exhaustion and elation that someone 'that rich' would pay attention to her.
Once it's clear that the spell has broken too far to be salvaged, Jon fishes his phone out and raises an eyebrow at the fact his father is calling him at such a late hour.
"You have the worst timing."
"Ah," Peter chimes, amusement coloring his tone deeply, "and here I thought you'd be glad to hear from your old man."
Despite his annoyance, Jon smiles at the sound of his caretaker's voice. It's been a couple weeks since they last spoke verbally; letters can only do so much, especially when one is oft at sea.
"Yeah, yeah." Jon decides that he's not going to hunt tonight. "What's going on?"
Peter sighs rather loudly. "Elias is going to Usher next week and asked me to watch the institute while he's gone."
It's been years since Jon stepped foot into the Magnus Institute. After Gertrude Robinson saw him and saw fit to try and interrogate him, it was decided that Jon wouldn't be allowed to visit his "Dad" at work anymore.
Still, the moment he steps into the Beholding’s temple and feels his avaunt curl around him with a strangely tender gaze, it feels like greeting an old friend. He intends to head upstairs, straight to his parents, but the pull from his avaunt brings him down the hall and towards the stairs to the archives.
There’s a man at the foot of the stairs who sings of his mother’s touch, just held back by the tentative relationships he has with his coworkers. ‘His name is Martin,’ the Beholding whispers. ‘I think you should meet him.’
Jon hums softly in response before deciding to text his father, 'went to the archives avaunt bee wants me to meet someone'.
When he looks up from his phone, Martin’s looking up at him with barely concealed awe. "H-hello," he greets, pale cheeks pinking with embarrassment. "Do you need help with something?"
Jon smiles gently, not wanting to startle the fascinating human, and finds himself rather amused when Martin’s blush grows hotter. "Nothing in particular… It's been a long time since I saw these archives. Do you mind if I see what's become of them now that Robinson is dead?" Jon's voice dips hatefully in that split second before returning to its normal, charming tone. "I would have asked my fathers to see it sooner, but I have been quite busy as of late."
A voice from deeper within draws Jon's attention away from Martin’s face. "Long time no see, Jonathan Lukas."
A wide, almost inhuman grin stretches across his face when he recognizes that voice to be Gerard Keay, who's supposed to be dead. With a quiet excuse, Jon steps around Martin to see his old 'friend' sitting on one of the desks, radiating with the touch of the End. "I see Robinson was the end of you after all, Gerry."
Gerry laughs for what feels like the first time in months, but maybe even years, before Gertrude abandoned the skin book after his death. "Nah, she's the reason I'm still around… unfortunately."
Jon tilts his head in question before the Beholding whispers the dark secret. "Ah, a brain tumor then? You should have asked me to find you a more interesting way to die."
From the archivist’s office, Jon notices two strangers appear: the current archivist, Sasha James and the other assistant, Timothy Stoker. As intriguing as they are (Elias has spoken rather highly of Miss James), there's a much more important reason for Jon to come down here, and it takes very little time for Martin to catch his attention again… Gerry has no qualms interrupting him again.
"Your fathers are going to tell you no."
Jon rolls his eyes and decides to pull out the haughty tone he perfected among his friends' blustering. "You don't know that. Papa will understand, and I'm sure Dad will listen if I beg hard enough."
"About what?"
At the sound of Elias’s voice, both Gerry and Jon freeze and turn to the door with equally guilty looks. The latter then tries to shift his expression into something more innocent before responding, "hello, Dad… I see you and Papa came to find me."
Peter steps right behind Elias and smiles widely in that sweet way that tends to disarm the most skeptical of people. "Of course. After the incident , I wouldn't dare let you spend time with potentially strange people… Sometimes the hiring process can be a bit… lax." A sparkle of wicked mischief in his eyes alerts Jon to his father's thoughts a split moment before he's wrapping his arms around Elias’s waist only to yelp when he's elbowed rather viciously.
Elias looks over his shoulder with a scowl, more than a little annoyed at his ex-husband's antics. "And you wonder why we're divorced."
Jon chirps out a laugh and retorts, "so it wasn't my fault?"
"We never said that!"
With a lackluster wave of his hand, Jon tries to turn his attention fully back on Martin. "You have really pretty ey–"
"No."
Jon looks over at his parents with wide eyes. "But–"
"No."
"Come on!"
"No."
"Please??"
Elias puts his hand on Peter’s chest to silence the potential acquiescence and points to the door with his other. "We are going to discuss this in my office, right now. Or the answer will remain no for the rest of your life, understood?"
"Understood."
"Then get going."
Jon quickly starts out the door, but not before winking at Martin and warning, "I'm sure we'll be seeing quite a bit of one another Martin~... "
The archives are dead silent, save for Gerry who's still quietly snickering. Sasha and Tim look genuinely lost, mostly about the bombshell that their boss has a kid. Martin, on the other hand, has moved past that knowledge to work out something a little more pressing...
"Did… did Elias’s son just hit on me?"