by Fern_vs_Internet
He decided at some point, maybe just then, maybe subconsciously, years ago, that whatever it meant and whoever it led to; he couldn’t hold his breath any longer. It was time to let go and hope he didn’t drown. Idly, he thought that was a rather good metaphor to put in his next poem.
Words: 18408, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Characters: Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Sasha James, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Peter Lukas, Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus, Alice “Daisy” Tonner, Basira Hussain
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Melanie King, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Peter Lukas/Jonah Magnus, Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus/Peter Lukas, Basira Hussain/Alice “Daisy” Tonner
Additional Tags: HOOOOOO BOY, THE GAYS - Freeform, so much gay, sad horror gays, actual tags are probably important, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), Canon-Typical Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Soulmate AU, I gave them soulmates and it made everything okay, Fix-It of Sorts, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, kind of, I rlly said ‘I’ll just write a short little drabble’, like I’ve ever had even an ounce of self control, My First Work in This Fandom, its a monster, it was originally just supposed to be JonMartin, it also wasn’t supposed to be 18k, whoops, Spoilers up to MAG 200, Location: Alice “Daisy” Tonner’s Scottish Safehouse, for a little bit - Freeform, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist Get a Happy Ending at the Scottish Safehouse, technically, Angst with a Happy Ending, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, I used Peter and Elias as comedic relief, The rating is for cursing, And violence, And horror, No sex or anything, The Author Regrets Nothing
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Overtime
"Are you mad at me?" Perhaps a little blunt, but Emmet did not want to beat around the bush. He wanted this solved and over with so that everything could go back to normal. Or as close to normal as they could get.
Ingo looked over at him, eyes dull, "Why do you ask?"
Or; after an accident in the Battle Subway, things just haven't been the same between Emmet and Ingo.
My 80th Submas/PLA fic is here, meaning I'm on my way to my penultimate goalpost!
Word Length: 2,347
Relevant Tags: Tags Contain Spoilers, Additional Warnings in Author's Note*, Heavy Angst
*Due to the nature of this work, a major aspect of this fic relies on not tagging. However, as a seasoned angst writer I am verrry aware how important tagging is for a reader to make an educated decision on whether to read a fic. Therefore in the top author's note on AO3 there is a drop-down containing the spoiler tags.
Do not tag as ship. Doing so will incur an automatic and swift block.
Read it on AO3! Or below the cut. Enjoy!
His foot bounced rapidly against the ground, anxiously shaking his knee as Emmet glanced over at his brother with a tense smile. Ingo's expression was stony as he stared down at the Singles Line battle reports that were due a week ago. All they needed was his signature before they went to the higher-ups, but his twin refused to pick up a pen to just do it.
It was unlike Ingo to cause such a massive disruption to Gear Station's service, but... Emmet could not find it in himself to scold him for his behavior.
After all, anybody would be in a state of shock after falling onto the subway tracks not all that long ago.
Sometimes when Emmet rested his eyes, he could still see Ingo sprawled against the tracks, face covered in terror as he pushed himself up onto shaky arms. It had all happened so fast, one second Ingo was on the platform, and the next he wasn't. It was an accident. Nobody had pushed him, as the cameras confirmed. He just... fell.
Emmet's heart always clenched at the returning horror that he had felt at that harrowing moment, knowing that he was unable to reach his twin from the opposite platform. They had been divided by two sets of tracks and support beams, and even though everything in Emmet had screamed at him to rush over, the danger of the third rail be damned, he couldn't. There was an approaching train on his end, roaring into the tunnel with angry golden lights, and had he gotten down at that exact moment he'd be dead.
As the train pulled into the station, blowing hot air onto Emmet's face, he wondered if it was a blessing or a curse. Because the Depot Agents on the other side had radioed in that there was someone (not just anyone, their boss) on the tracks, the train was held. Kept in place and blocking Ingo's fate from his view.
Schrödinger's Delcatty; Ingo was both alive and dead until the train moved passed and Emmet got to see whether he was still breathing.
Which he was. In the time it took for Emmet to race up the stairs (once he kicked his legs into gear) and crossed the concourse to get to the right platform in record time, Ingo had gotten back onto the platform before the outgoing train could hit him. Thank the Dragons that it had been delayed. Ingo was fine if shaken from the incident, with miraculously no injuries to speak of (even though it looked to Emmet as though hurt himself on the fall down).
After ensuring that Ingo was alright with the help of their on-call Nurse Joys, who made Emmet step out of the room loath as he was to obey, they used their vacation days for some time off. Who wouldn't? Emmet could hardly stand on that platform without thinking about how close he had been to losing his brother forever. He needed some distance from the subway to heal. As much as it hurt to have a place of such comfort and happiness tainted briefly by that close call.
Ingo hadn't fought Emmet when he insisted that he stay over at Emmet's apartment. He needed to make sure that his twin was alive. There was this irrational fear that if Ingo wasn't near or if Emmet couldn't see him, then it would turn out that everything was just some dream he fabricated. And that his twin was actually deceased. So. He took to checking in on his brother every hour or so.
He hoped that Ingo felt the same about needing to see Emmet to just... confirm that they weren't separated permanently.
But Ingo... he was distant. Mentally. Physically. Yup. Emmet had never felt further apart from his twin even though they were under the same roof again.
He hadn't wanted to push Ingo's limits, he almost died. If he needed to just exist in the same space as Emmet and nothing more then that was alright. So long as Emmet could see him he could keep his hands to himself.
And yet, it had been almost a month since that day, and Ingo was still keeping his distance from Emmet. Not outright ignoring him, but refusing him from getting closer. Emmet hadn't hugged his brother in a month. Hadn't felt his heart beating against his own. He wanted to embrace his brother and tell him how relieved he was that he was still alive but Ingo wasn't allowing that.
Emmet had tried his verrry best to remain patient, but he finally hit his limit.
"Are you mad at me?" Perhaps a little blunt, but Emmet did not want to beat around the bush. He wanted this solved and over with so that everything could go back to normal. Or as close to normal as they could get.
Ingo looked over at him, eyes dull, "Why do you ask?"
He was avoiding a clear-cut answer to his question. "Because I am Emmet and I have been hovering over you?" Or needy, clingy, pushy, whatever word that one might use to describe his fretting.
"Hovering..." His twin looked back down at his desk. "No. I'm not mad at you."
"That's good." It did nothing to calm his nerves. "So then... why won't you let me close?"
"We're close right now, aren't we?"
This was close? They couldn't be further apart, on separate sides of their shared office space. "No."
"I see."
Never had Ingo been this brisk. He must have lied to Emmet, saying that he wasn't upset with him. Why else would he be acting so- so wrongly?
His leg stopped jittering. Enough of this. Emmet rose from his desk.
"What are you doing?" Ingo asked curiously.
"I am Emmet and I am going to hug you," he declared. This was ridiculous. Whether Ingo was unhappy with Emmet's concern or if he was bottling up his emotions so that he wasn't perceived as having been phased by almost dying, he was certain that hugging was the solution. It would show that Emmet was earnest in his worry, and let Ingo know that he could tear down his barriers to process his distress.
What he didn't expect his actions to garner was for emotion to finally reveal itself on his twin's face. Instead of the delayed horror at facing his own mortality, Ingo's hackles raised as he visibly bristled.
"Do not," he bore his teeth at Emmet. Emmet did not stop his approach, even though his guts twisted at the sight of such hostility from his twin being directed at him.
He opened his arms, entirely ready to pull Ingo into them-
"I said don't touch me!"
Instantly, Emmet backed up three steps, hands coming close to his body as they reached for his chest and ended up curling around his tie.
Ingo huffed harshly, eyes fierce after snapping at him. After a moment, his features softened, "You should have listened the first time. I'm sorry."
It felt as though his heart was waiting to burst past his ribs. It hurt.
A wobbly smile rose on his face, "No, I am Emmet and I am sorry. I'll... I'll leave you alone. Yup! Promise."
He turned away, hurrying toward the door. Emmet needed to leave. If Ingo called for him, he didn't hear it.
Unbidden, tears sprung to his eyes now that his back was turned but they did not fall. Nope. Because it truly was Emmet's fault for pushing his twin like that. Ingo had been through something so verrry traumatic (but so did Emmet-!) and here he was. Intruding on his personal space and trampling over his boundaries when he was feeling his most exposed. Bad Emmet, verrry bad.
When he returned, he would apologize to Ingo. He would. But first. He needed to let out the sobs that were crawling and clawing up his throat.
-
"Heya Boss," Jackie approached cautiously, opening the door to the office without waiting for permission to enter.
Boss Ingo did not look up at his presence in the room. "Hello."
But good. At least he was responding. The fewer complications there were, the easier this would be on them all. So he asked, "You ready to clock out yet? You're accruing quite a bit of overtime."
The boss looked up at him, eyes blank. "I don't recall that phrasing."
Not an uncommon side effect. Jackie kept calm. "Sorry about that, I'll make it simpler... Are you ready to pass on?"
For someone who loved trains as much as he, and who spent all of his time at the main station, it wasn't a shock to Jackie that most ghosts eventually wandered their way down the platform steps. In fact, it was almost a no-brainer that this was the preferred method of departing to the afterlife.
He'd always been able to see ghosts, ever since he was a kid. And not just the Pokémon typing, although he could see plenty of the creatures who had passed. But real, genuine spirits.
At first, they were just imprints of voices, facial features, or impressions that he'd walk past on the streets but as he grew older their forms solidified in his perspective. Eventually, when Jackie was able to speak to them, it was only natural that he guided them to the correct terminal where they could move on to the afterlife. That was why he never left the subway, his job as a Depot Agent was never done.
He just wished that it needn't come to this, of guiding his beloved boss to the other side. If only any of them had acted soon when he fell... maybe things could have been different.
Jackie didn't know what happened to Boss Ingo's body, as there was no evidence left behind once he had been hit by that fateful train, but the man was no longer living. That much was certain.
Ghosts varied in corporeality, he'd discovered throughout his life as an esper. Some could only appear to spirit mediums, like himself, but on rare occasions, particularly powerful specters could look and act as though they were still alive. The spell would be dispelled at the first attempt of touch, of course, but it could fool any bereaved passenger that was for sure.
Boss Ingo attending his duties on the battle lines despite having died was proof enough that he was in the latter category. This couldn't go on any longer. Not without serious consequences if they hadn't been wrought already.
Honestly, it was his fault for letting this farce go on for so long. It wasn't right, even outright cruel to Jackie's other boss to fool him in this manner. Boss Emmet would never be able to grieve if he didn't know that his brother was dead in the first place.
So Jackie took it upon himself to intervene. He hoped that Boss Ingo would move on willingly as there was nothing he could do to force the man to leave. But the boss had been incredibly reasonable in life, and hopefully, that still carried over in death.
"Ah, I understand now," Boss Ingo nodded. "No."
It was worth a shot. Thankfully, Jackie had one more trick up his sleeve.
"Come on, Boss, you know this isn't good for you or Boss Emmet," all of the Depot Agents heard that yelling earlier... he even saw the way that Emmet had stood in an out-of-the-way corridor to wipe his reddened eyes with the sleeve of his coat. "The longer you stay here, the more irritable you'll get. I promise the afterlife isn't scary; it'll be just like a station with an endless amount of platforms and trains for you to conduct. What do you say? Ready to go? You can even say goodbye to Emmet and tell him the truth before you do."
The office dimmed, and it grew uncomfortably hot. Boss Ingo stood. "You have mistaken me for someone else."
"I know your memories are scrambled and all from dying but you-gh!" Instinctively, his hands scrambled to his throat, feeling it grow tighter by the second. He gasped, trying to force air into his body, but just couldn't. The atmosphere itself was choking the life out of him as the ghost of Subway Boss Ingo drew closer.
Jackie could do nothing but watch as the spirit stalked forward, the ends of his coat growing more torn with every swish, every little piece fluttering down to the ground and disappearing in orange embers. His form visibly aged gaining wrinkles and facial hair that he had never worn in his life.
He was paralyzed when the boss spoke, "My name is Warden Ingo of the Pearl Clan, I am not the 'Boss' of anything. And as such, I will not be boarding the departing trains any time soon."
"Y-you..." Something was wrong.
He had never seen ghosts warp themselves like that before. Not unless something terrible had happened to them. And while dying by train was as awful as it comes, the ghost should reflect that. Blood and guts and gore. Not turn the office into a boiler as though Jackie were being burned alive while looking perfectly intact. Not a single hair was out of place, he was that convincing.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must find the man who looks like me," as though attending a masquerade, when the spirit passed him by his silhouette flickered back to the pristine form of the subway boss. "I reacted harshly to him earlier and must make amends."
The heels of his work shoes clicked against the tiles until they were so distant that Jackie couldn't hear him anymore. The lingering dark presence also dissipated, causing air to rush into his lungs as he sucked in breaths with his cheeks cooling. As he coughed, he looked out the door into the hallway where the spirit disappeared as he remained in the no longer sweltering office.
Almost dumbly, the only thing that he could say with his sore throat was, "Well, shit."
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