Sweet Tea

by Chaos_Time (Adventure_Line)

Summary:

Martin was a nuisance.

He stumbled about knocking over stacks of paper, he did his work sloppily, and no matter how many time Jon told him, Martin always made his tea too sweet.

Chapter 1: Bitterness

Notes:

Something something finally had motivation (and inspiration!) to write

The Magnus Archives is eating at my brain so have this

Martin was a nuisance.

That was a fact that Jon had come to live with in the past couple weeks.

Jon had not requested Martin as an assistant and he certainly did not want him as an assistant. He stumbled about knocking over stacks of paper, he did his work sloppily, and no matter how many times Jon told him, Martin always made his tea too sweet.

Jon couldn’t help but grimace every sip he took of that damned tea. Martin just couldn’t get it right. Every morning he would knock on Jon’s office door and would bring him the mug filled with that dreaded liquid. Every morning Martin would set it down on his desk in the same spot by Jon’s right hand, just in the right spot for it to be in the way. Every morning Martin would stand and wait, a smile on his face, as Jon would take a sip. Every morning Martin’s smile would falter as he saw the scowl that was permanently etched into Jon’s face deepen. Every morning Jon would watch as Martin shrunk in on himself and left, shutting the wooden door behind him.

Jon despised Martin and he despised his tea and yet… Every morning he would drink that tea in full. Leaning his head back to get the last pesky drop out of the mug then setting it down with a sigh that could only be described as pleased.

 

~~

 

Jon was having a foul morning.

First he woke up late to his alarm. This normally wouldn’t be a problem as he always went into the institute early so his alarm was set early too. But that night his phone hadn’t charged properly so rang him awake an hour late.

All told, that wasn’t that bad. But then Jon stood, only to find that he had left his outfit for the day on his bed the night before. At some point in the night he must’ve kicked them off the bed as what was a once perfectly ironed shirt and pants were now a crumpled mess of creased fabric on his floor. Grumbling to himself Jon waffled between being even later than he already was or looking disheveled. Deciding on the latter, Jon pulled the creased clothes on, doing his best to smooth them out, before heading out of his flat and down the steps into the bustling London street.

Next, the café he always stopped at for a bite to eat in the morning was out of the sandwich he had ordered and they hadn’t bothered to tell him until he had paid and waited for ten damn minutes. By the time he found out he was entirely out of time and had to go on with an empty stomach. Then the train line he took was shut down for whatever reason so he had to walk the rest of the way to the institute.

When all was said and done, Jon made it to the institute two hours later than intended, and half an hour later than his assistants.

When Jon walked down the stairs into the archive he heard chatter cut off abruptly. Stepping into the room Jon found himself being stared at by all three assistants. Sasha was sitting at her desk looking like she was actually working, Martin was at his desk but obviously hadn’t been working, what with the guilty look on his face, Tim who had been leaning on Martin’s desk now stepped much closer to Jon than he would like.

“Boss! You’re late!” Tim enthusiastically informed him. “That has to be some kind of record!”

“Yes. Thank you Tim.” Jon said in a harsh tone, rushing as quickly as he could towards his office, only to be further blocked by Tim.

“Are you feeling alright Boss? You seem…” He trailed off, simply gesturing towards Jon.

“Fine. Thank you.” Pushing past Tim with a glare Jon was finally in his office.

He flopped down into his desk chair with a long winded sigh. As he sat the chair squeaked so loudly it made him want to throw it across the room. Jon took a couple slow and deep breaths, calming himself before he turned and began his work. He could almost say he was in a better mood when someone knocked on his door. No, not someone. Martin. He always knocked in that same pattern that could’ve driven Jon up the walls.

“Come in Martin.” The door opened to reveal none other than Martin, holding a mug that Jon knew would hold the worst tea he had ever drunk.

“Right, I’ve brought you tea- Which I’m sure you can tell of course, you can see… heh.. anyways.” He placed the mug right where he always did.

“Yes, thank you Martin. Is that all?”

“Right… Oh! So I actually went and looked at that building like you asked, for the Carlos Vittery statement. I didn’t really find anything though..” Martin’s voice trailed off nervously.

“Then why are you telling me?” Jon asked sternly.

“W-well… I assumed you would want to know that I at least tried?”

“Hmph.” Jon took a sip of the tea, immediately grimacing as he did.

“I’ll uh… I’ll just go.” Martin’s voice shook as he left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

 

~~

 

It was quiet when Jon got into the archives the next morning. Not that it was an odd thing. On a usual day he was the first person in, followed by Martin, and then Sasha and Tim who always came in together. He walked into his office and began to putter around, sorting through statements, before sitting down at his desk and pulling out the tape recorder. Once Jon was fully set up he began to read the week's statement aloud.

“Statement of Carlos Vittery regarding his arachnophobia and its manifestations.”

Jon hated spiders. Throughout the entire statement he would glance at things that in his peripheral vision looked like those icky, many-legged things. Once he had finished reading he sped through the final notes as quickly as possible before clicking off the tape recorder and leaping up to his feet. He scanned every inch of his office, looking for any hint of thin black legs or silvery webs. Once he had finished his search he let out a sigh.

By the time Jon had finished he began to notice how quiet the archives truly were. Normally at least Martin would be there by now, creating some kind of ruckus. He stood up and walked into the rest of the archives just in time to hear footsteps coming down the stairs. He assumed it was Martin and was about to scramble into his office to avoid Martin’s needlessly genuine ‘good morning's’ or ‘how are you’s?’. But instead he paused when he heard a hearty laugh that couldn’t belong to anyone but Tim. He frowned, leaning against the door to his office, hoping to at least ask if Tim or Sasha had heard from Martin.

“Morning Boss!” Tim called over in a voice too jovial for Jon’s current mood, he looked past Jon and around the rest of the room. “Martin’s not here yet?”

“It seems so.” Jon scowled slightly and added tardiness to the mental list of reasons to dislike Martin. (A perfectly reasonable list to have, Jon thought to himself.) “Did he say anything about being late to you two?”

“Nothing to me.” Sasha replied, setting her coffee cup down on her desk. “Tim?”

“Nada.” Tim shrugged.

“Of course he hasn’t.” Jon said in a harsh tone.

“Maybe he missed his bus?” suggested Sasha.

Jon’s scowl deepened. “Well if either of you hear from him let me know.” He turned to go into document storage.

“Hey Jon?” Sasha called, continuing when she saw that he had stopped moving. “Go easier on Martin. He was- I think you’re too hard on him.”

“I am not hard on him.” Jon replied, turning back around to face Sasha.

“You are. You get cross with him nearly every day and Martin does not deserve that. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like him. You can’t take every single thing he does as a slight against you.” Sasha stared at him in a way that made him shrink slightly.

“I’ll… take that into consideration.” With that Jon turned and made his way into document storage.

He scanned the shelves looking for something to do. He felt restless and was eager to move on to the next statement. Anything to get his mind off the creeping feeling he kept getting all over his skin. Was he being that hard on Martin? He knew he wasn’t being nice per se but he didn’t think he was being mean about his dislike of Martin. He shook his head and continued looking. Finally his eye caught on a particular folder. Pulling it out he couldn’t help but smile a bit. This was a good one. Jon was sure of it.

This time when he walked past Tim and Sasha it was with an extra pep in his step. Though, as he scanned the room and noticed that Martin was still a no-show he paused. A pang of something that most certainly wasn’t disappointment shot through him. Jon shook his head slightly, attempting to clear away the feeling (it didn’t work.)

“..Jon?” Sasha broached, causing Jon to realize he had been standing there for an inordinate amount of time.

“Hm? Right! Yes uh…” He coughed into his fist before continuing in a much calmer tone of voice. “I have a new statement to look over. For now if you two could continue sorting through the piles, that would be great.” Sasha nodded then jabbed Tim in the ribs when he sighed in annoyance. Tim then made a big show of cradling his side. Jon rolled his eyes at their antics and went back to his office, eager to start the new statement.

As he sat down his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out he saw a new message had come through.

Martin B. 9:27 AM

Martin B: I will not be coming into work today. I have a stomach bug.

Jon S: I see. Feel better soon Martin. In future, please give further notice.

He finished typing out his response then put his phone away. So that’s why Martin wasn’t there. Jon sighed. It seemed like Martin was doing everything in his power to make Jon annoyed. And now Jon was back in a foul mood because he hadn’t even had tea yet and his whole morning had been one that could only be described as bad.

Tea!

It was at that moment he realized he hadn’t had any tea yet. He stood up and once again left his office, this time walking over to the small kitchen area. Jon filled the kettle and turned it on, then opened the cupboards searching for the teabags. Where was the tea in this place? Had it really been that long since he’d made his own here? Finally he found a box of them in the corner of a cupboard. Jon tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the water to heat up, then waiting for the tea to steep. Finally he filled his cup, adding the perfect amount of milk and sugar for his taste. He took a sip of it and…

It tasted wrong. Jon made a noise of surprise and took another sip. Why did his tea taste wrong? He had always made it the same way, the way he just made it. But, he took another sip and, yes. This tea was wrong. He frowned and took the offending tea back to his office. He set it down on his left, where it wouldn’t get in the way. But that felt wrong. He looked over to the spot by his right hand where a ring had formed on the wood. Tentatively he moved the mug over to sit right on the ring. There, that was where it was meant to be.

Notes:

Oh no! What could have happened to Martin!?

Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always lovely! <3

Chapter 2: Bittersweetness

Summary:

Jon has some revelations that are quickly shoved under a rug to deal with at a later date.

Stole a lot of dialogue from MAG 21 - Freefall and MAG 22 - Colony

Notes:

Wow, I actually updated a fic… *checks notes* nearly five months after I posted it…

welp

Let’s hope I can actually finish this one, I do have a vague plot in my head so that’s helpful

TW Worms

It had been three days of Martin’s absences. three of the same ‘I’m still sick,’ messages filling Jon’s phone. Three days of Jon drinking tea that tasted wrong.

He spent much longer than he should’ve trying to get it right. More cream, more sugar, steep it for less time, steep it for more. It still didn’t taste right. Jon even got Tim and Sasha to make him tea and it still wasn’t right.

It wasn’t that the tea tasted bad per se; the tea tasted just fine. It was just that every time Jon took a sip of his tea something inside him simply said No. What was once a perfectly fine cup of tea, a good cup of tea, became something that would make his stomach churn.

 

~~

 

Five days and the general mood of the archives was becoming tense. Tim’s jokes, which normally would be followed by barks of laughter and Jon tersely shutting them down, now fell flat. Jon found himself spending less and less time outside of his office, putting as many hours into the statements as he feasibly could (or more.)

 

~~

 

Jon was getting worried.

It had been ten days since Martin had last been into the archives. During that time Jon had been getting daily messages from him stating that he was still under the weather with a stomach bug. At this point Jon was less concerned about Martin missing work and more so concerned with how sick he must be.

A few more days, Jon told himself, then I’ll check on him.

 

~~

 

Thirteen days.

Nearly two weeks since Martin fell ill. Two weeks since Jon had had a cup of tea that didn’t make him want to cry in frustration. Two weeks of the same messages coming in that should’ve settled Jon’s warriness but only served to increase it.

Jon was just finishing reading out a nonsense statement (some lady’s son got “eaten by the sky”) when a loud ‘BANG’ caused him to jump.

“My god! Martin?!” There, standing in the doorway panting, was Martin. His heart jumped at the sight, (something he would need to think about later.) Martin stood there for a long moment before pulling a small jar out of his pocket and dumping its contents on Jon’s desk. “What… What the hell is–? What are these things?!”

A handful of small silver worms began squirming unnervingly fast, producing a wet squelching sound that made Jon’s skin crawl. In a flash Jon had clicked off the tape recorder and was standing, then pulling off his oxfords and squishing each worm with an unsettling pop. Once all of the worms had been left as spots of goo and flesh staining the wood of his desk, Jon relaxed… slightly.

“Oh god, Jon, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was- it’d been weeks- if I have to eat another damn canned peach…” Martin’s shoulders slumped as he sighed, “sorry.”

“I-its… I uh… it’s alright, Martin,” Jon’s voice came out much softer than he had intended and returned it back to the cool, calculated tone he had so meticulously crafted, with a cough, “Now, would you mind telling me why you felt the need to dump maggots on my desk?”

Martin shrunk back at the question. “Well- I- uh… promise you’ll believe me?”

“Well I can’t promise that-”

“Jon,” Martin pleaded.

 

“Fine, fine,” Jon conceded.

“Can… can I make a statement?”

“You want to make a statement?” Jon began to wonder just what Martin had been through over the past two weeks.

“…” Martin hesitated, then squared his shoulders, “Yes. I do.”

Jon nodded, then opened his drawer to pull out another tape, popping the last one out of the recorder and replacing it with the empty one. Martin shuffled closer to the wooden desk awkwardly, Jon bit back a sigh of annoyance.

“Just sit down, Martin,” He said, motioning towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk. The taller man did so with an embarrassed look. With a sigh from Jon and a click the tape recorder began to whirr.

“Martin, are you sure about this?” Jon had to admit that he was rather curious as to what happened to Martin over the past two weeks, but he didn’t want Martin to make a statement unless he was fully sure. (Obviously just mild concern for his assistants… obviously…)

“I just want to make a statement about what happened to me. I mean, it… it’s what we do.”

Jon scoffed in response, “No, what we do is research statements. Usually those made by liars and the mentally unwell.”

“Well, I need to tell someone what happened,” Martin looked at his hand, fiddling with his thumbs, “and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?”

“…” Jon paused, causing Martin to shoot him a pleading look, which he found himself having to pry his gaze away from, “…That is beside the point. ”

“If you’re that worried about it, it doesn’t need to be an official statement. I just need a record of it.”

“Fine. You’re right. I suppose. Statement of Martin Blackwood, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding…?” Jon hesitated, waiting for Martin to fill in the blanks.

“A close encounter with something I believe to have once been Jane Prentiss.” He blinked in shock for a moment. Jane Pretiss? That was a name Jon was familiar with. He quickly finished the opening of the statement, curious to hear Martin’s tale.

“Recorded direct from subject, twelfth March, twenty-sixteen. Statement begins.”

As soon as Jon said those final words it was like something came over Martin, pulling all the feelings and fear he had felt out of him. Jon tried to listen to his assistant’s words but found himself staring at him instead. Martin truly had such nice eyes, round, open, and a beautiful grey-blue. Jon was sure he could study them forever. How many freckles covered Martin’s round face? Jon was determined to fin-

He shook his head, pulling himself out of those thoughts and trying to focus back onto Martin’s words instead of his handsom- nic- adequate, face.

Even in his distracted state Jon managed to catch most of what Martin was saying. Looking for more evidence, Jane Prentiss, worms, more worms, being locked in his flat for two weeks because of Jane Prentiss and her worms, and finally being safe to leave, leading to this moment now.

After a long silence Jon realized Martin had finished speaking and thus finished his statement. “Statement ends,” He looked into those cloudy-sky eyes, “You’re sure about all of this, Martin?”

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you about something like this, Jon I… like my job. Most of the time…” His voice trailed off and Jon understood what he meant. He wouldn’t like his job if it led to him being trapped by a… living hive.

“Very well,” He thought for moment about what to do with this situation, clearly Martin couldn’t go back home, not yet at least. The chance of Prentiss coming back was too high. Aha! An idea sprang into his head, “In which case, there’s a room in the archives I use to sleep when working late. I suggest you stay there for now.

“I’ll talk to Elias about whether we can get extra security, but the archives have enough locks for now. It’s also supposed to be humidity controlled,” Jon said with a slight tone of bitterness, “and, though it hasn’t been working for some time, it does mean it’s well-sealed. Nothing will be sneaking through any window cracks.”

Martin flushed slightly as a look of mild shock appeared on his freckled face, “Okay… thanks. To be honest I didn’t- didn’t expect you… to take it seriously.” Frankly, Jon didn’t expect it either. Why was he so concerned about Martin? Surely it was just general concern about a possible threat to the archives… right? As he thought this, something else came to mind:

“You say you lost your phone two weeks ago?”

“Thereabouts. When I went back to the basement,” Martin confirmed.

“Well, in that time I have received several text messages from your phone, saying you were ill with stomach problems. The last one said that you thought ‘might be a parasite’,” Martin’s face visibly paled, “though my calls trying to follow up were never answered.”

“So, if this does involve Jane Pretiss, then I take it deadly seri-“ Jon’s phone buzzed on the desk next to him. He picked it up, the screen glowing brightly, “Hang on.”

“What?” The assistant leaned forward in his chair.

“I just received another text message. From you,” He nodded at Martin before reading aloud the message, “Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I ask Elias to hire some extra security. I should probably warn Sasha and Tim as well,” He sighed, “I’ll also have a look through the Archives, as I believe we should have a statement from Ms. Pretiss herself in here somewhere. Recording ends.”

“Right…” Silence fell over the room for a long moment, neither of them knowing what to say next.

Jon hoped that Martin would say something but as that seemed to be false hope, he broke the silence instead humming before standing up from his chair, “Tea?”

“Please.”

 

~~

 

“No, no. You’re making it wrong.”

“What do you mean, I’m making it wrong? I’m making it exactly how I always do.”

“Just… let me.”

“I am perfectly capable of making my own-”

“Jon,” The taller man crossed his arms in an attempt to look convincing.

“Fine, fine,” Jon dismissed Martin with a wave of his hand, then stepped back from the tea, leaving his assistant room to work, “And how would you make it then?”

Jon watched with fondness, amusement as Martin puttered around, making the cup of tea. Finally he swirled the tea around, tapped the edge of the mug with the spoon with a final ‘clink’, then handed the mug to Jon.

“There, try that,” Martin said with a small smile.

Jon conceded and took a sip of the tea, dreading the feeling he fully expected by now: disappointment and loss. But instead of the hollowness that was expected, Jon felt full. Warmth spread through his body as the sweet liquid hit his tongue. For the first time in two weeks he actually felt comfort from his tea. He eagerly took another sip, determined to drink as much of that magical drink as fast as he could. A giggle by his side pulled him back into consciousness.

“What?” Jon said, lowering the mug from his mouth.

Martin giggled again, “Sorry, it’s just… every time you drink my tea you always make the same face.”

“And what’s that?”

“It’s like… you are really secretly enjoying yourself, but you refuse to let it happen, so you scowl your way into hating it.”

“I- I do not-”

“You do. Every time.”

Jon scoffed.

Martin laughed.

Jon felt his face flush.

The room got very quiet.

“Right, well. I have work to do, and you have… something to do I’m sure.”

Martin’s face fell, “Right yeah… I’ll uh… go.”

And as Jon watched Martin leave the break room with his own mug held tightly, he took another sip of that tea he most certainly, undoubtedly, very much, hated.

Notes:

So… it’s been a bit. Thanks for reading!

I’m hoping my motivation train can keep rolling, plus with winter break literally tomorrow and The Magnus Protocol coming, I think I should be able to the next chapter out some time in December or January. (Possibly false words… but I’ll do my best.)

(Also if anyone noticed a lot of the tags changing… no you didn’t.)

PS. If you notice any spelling or grammar mistakes feel free to let me know.

PSS. Comments and kudos are always welcome! Thank you for reading :DD