Chapter Text
Jon doesn't notice that anything is amiss as he is carefully cooking unseasoned meat in a pan. He only knows something is wrong when the Captain starts hissing. His cat never does that when they are alone, not even when Jons strokes get a little too frantic during times of distress, of which he had a lot since becoming the Archivist. Still denial holds him back from turning to look. He's curious, but also very, very tired.
"I'm sorry that your food is taking so long, but you were the one insisting that everything I serve you should be lightly cooked."
There's an intruder here, Jon!
"Oh." Jon clicked the stove off. Didn't want anything to burn. Something like terror was making his blood run cold and yet he couldn't help but be calm. "Who is it?"
The lanky man with the long claws.
"You are making such odd noises. I doubt even I would be able to replicate them." Michaels voice filled his little kitchen, replacing the air with sound. It proceeded to imitate Jon, the noises it made grating and missing several syllabels. It was like listening to a toddler trying to speak.
Jon grimaced. "That wasn't quite right."
"Ah, I thought so. Comprehension. Not my strong suit."
"Hm." Jon turned the stove back on. No need to let the Captain get cranky. "Is there anything you wanted?" No compulsion. Jon was very proud of himself. It was sad that no one appreciated his efforts.
"I've just come by for a visit. That's what friends do, Jon."
Michael came up behind him, looking over his shoulder and into the pan. Reality didn't like that. Neither did the meat that suddenly wasn't meat at all.
"Please don't mess with the Captains food. He gets mean if he's hungry."
I do.
"You cook for your cat?"
"For whom else should I cook?"
Michael was giving him a look. He couldn't actually see it as he was trying not to burn or freeze the Captains dinner when the temperature fluctuated wildly and his fork kept turning into something else. But he could very much feel it. Literally. It was as though there was a disapproving shape at the back of his head.
"Do you want food?"
"Do you want to go into my hallways?"
"That's a no then."
Michael cackled right into his ear, making it bleed.
Joooon. Where's my dinner? I'm starving. Should I bite this thing? Is it the reason you abandoned me in my time of need?
"No, no, darling. Hush. It's almost done. It just needs to cool down a bit."
You have a reality bending being right next to you. Tell it to stop being useless.
"What's it saying, Arch- Jon?" Michael had twisted and dropped its chin on Jons head to stare at the Captain. The point of contact felt oddly normal, which only amplified the wrongness of it all.
"He... He wants you to cool his food for him."
Michael considers this. Or Jon thinks that it does, given that it is silent. The meat freezes over.
"There you go." It chirps.
"Nooooo."
What happened? Jon. What did it do? Jon where is my food? It should be done by now.
Jon just put his head in his hands and continued to groan, hoping to outdo Michaels laughter and the Captains insistant meowing. This is what he gets for accidently "befriending" the personification of lies and deceit. And maybe for spoiling his cat a little too much.
~~~
"You should get a hobby." Michael says, not even bothering to say hello first.
Whether it had been there for hours or just arrived Jon didn't know. He had been switching between research and texting Jude and Mike. They were pretty helpful when they were in a good mood. Mike knew a lot about Leitners and how to outsmart other entities. And Jude, when she didn't wax poetics about her flame cult and the joys of burning everything to the ground, was pretty much a VIP in the Avatar world.
Mostly they just send cute animal pictures and cat videos back and forth, though. Jon had just hit send on a link to a pretty sweet youtube channel that had rows upon rows of videos about foxes, Mikes preferred animal, when Michael had announced its presence.
"Do you have one?"
Michael flopped down on the sofa next to him, holding out a finger with three extra joints towards the Captain, who was sleeping in his catbed under the coffee table.
"No, but I'm not the one working on a sunday."
"I'm not working." Jon said, awkwardly shuffling the stacks of statements back into their respective folders.
"Was that a lie, Jon?~"
"No." Jon lied, standing up and opening the window, where a woodpecker had insistently knocked against it. It chirped at him and then flew straight into the building to dive down on a spider. Jon smiled at the bird, a proud little thing.
Michael laughed when he got a small bowl of peanuts from a closet in the living room and placed it in front of his new guest.
Jon ignored him. "Thank you"
"Always happy to help! There's word of a dog who had an encounter with the Buried last week. Been dragged into a sewer, barely made it out alive. Want us to send him to you?"
"If he wants to make a statement, yes. Martin will be happy to have a dog in the archives, too. So even if he just wants some cuddles you can send him my way."
"Roger that. Thanks for the treat."
Jon closed the window after him and placed the bowl back into the closet. He felt Michaels gaze on him all the while. It warped the air around him, made fractals appear behind his eyes and drove colours into his mouth.
"What?"
"You have strange powers, Archivist."
"Jon. You don't hear me going around calling you Distortion now, do you?"
"It wouldn't be wrong."
"And you'd hate that."
He didn't say that Michael wasn't wrong either. Both had a certain grain of truth in it. Deception would be hard otherwise.
"Where do you come from Michael?" Jon asked before he could think better of it. He flinched when he noticed what he had done, trying to backtrack, going for the window (doors were dangerous when Michael was near), but the Distortion was there, in his space again and holding him captive with its sheer presence.
Its grin was wide and feral, fingers that curled around Jons whole form barely touching and still shredding Jons clothes.
"Did no one explain the birds and the bees to you?"
"I'm sorry." Jon blurted out torn between getting away from the sharp fingers and drawing closer towards Michaels chest. He wished the Captain would wake up and help him. "But that's also not what I meant and you know it."
"Hm." It didn't stop grinning. Jon hated that he had no good read on it. "How about you figure that out for yourself? You have time before the circus throws their party."
"Right." Jon sighed, whether because he was tired of always getting half baked answers whenever he didn't compell anyone, or because Michael had decided to give him some space again he didn't know.
When he tried to do just that and go back to his statements he found them missing and glared in the face of Michaels delighted laughter.
"Michael those are the property of the Magnus Institute!"
"I'll be sure to return them."
But in what state? Jon dreaded to ask.
"Let's watch some television." Michaels voice cut through Jons internal groaning. And just a moment later the awakening sound of the TV that hadn't been turned on since his move here ripped through his flat.
Jon really didn't have much choice but to sit next to his "guest" and watch a truly horrid crime show with it. At least the Captain came to his aid somewhere in between episodes. Even if that aid came in the form of cuddles and purring. Purring that was playfully imitated by the being sat next to him. He may have dozed off to the sound of them.
Hours later the yellow door shut and disappeared from its place beside his bedroom door and Jon could finally go back to texting Mike. He had twenty-nine unread messages and a killer crick in his neck because of the weird position he had fallen asleep in.
"Are you kidding me? I am not going to read through all that."
Dialing Mikes number send a jolt of fear through him. He would have liked to attribute that to Mikes status as Avatar, but Jon knew he just really didn't like calling anyone.
"Oh you're still alive!"
"Hello Mike, yes, why wouldn't I be?"
"You know the answer to that question even without the Eye. What got you vanishing so suddenly? You just quit in the middle of a conversation."
"Sorry. I've been harassed by the Spiral a bit." The words were already out before he remembered whom he was talking to.
There was stony silence on the other end. Jon had another apology on the tip of his tongue when Mike spoke again. "You know there's a book for that."
The words shrivelled in his mouth as he let out a snorting laugh. "Miiike! Stop trying to recruit me for your weird space cult! I'm already stuck in one."
"Switch over. Mine comes with monetary benefits and less responsibility."
"I'm tempted. But I have to decline. Mine has better company."
"I'm wounded."
"Sorry, but no one can top Martin."
Jon could hear the smirk over the phone. "Ohhh~ You'll have to introduce me at some point."
Jon tried to imagine how that meeting would go. He'd kept his fragile almost friendship with the two Avatars quiet. There was no need to make the others distrust him more. Tim would probably go right back to hating him, Basira would be disgusted, but intrigued, she may have disliked his monster club, but she also knew potential when she saw one. Melanie? Jon could only imagine her going off in a rage and trying to stab someone. She prooobably wouldn't, but she was very well capable. Daisy... Jon was most scared of Daisy to be honest. She was a Hunter and Mike had been her prey once. She wouldn't play nice. She barely restrained herself from killing him on good days.
Now that he thought about it Martin would most likely take it the best. The man had a heart of gold.
"Maybe. Don't get your hopes up."
"But Jon, I do so love to see things come crashing down."
With a sigh Jon hang up on him. What was he doing befriending people with such a terrible sense of humor?