Owner	Pose
Martin Blackwood	Martin is busy unpacking the boxes for their new dormotory suite at SHIELD HQ. There is soft music playing in the background, nothing with lyrics, just ambience. He's trying to keep himself occupied after his double with Emergency Services.     He should be out with SHIELD, keeping an eye on Jon, but having to re-establish seniority with his cover is important to his continued classified operations with the organization. He hates it. He *absolutely* hates it. "Is this what he felt like all those times I was gone?" he muses aloud, setting a number of colored glass decorations (geometric shapes from the look of it) on top of a countertop. "The not knowing? The anxiousness? I mean, he's still new and there's bound to be armed security around the drop site." His hands tremble as he places the next piece. "What if he gets shot? Or worse?!"     The shaking of his hands is enough to send the shape tumbling off the counter and he only barely manages to catch it, still a sharp point pokes a tiny hole in his hand where it lands, bringing a drop of scarlet to the surface of his skin.
Jonathan Sims	It's been years, but there /was/ a time in their relationship when Jon was the one out late and Martin was the one at home waiting. And it's not as if it was all rainbows and sunshine--Jon was interning and then doing a year of residency at Arkham Asylum in Gotham before he gave that up and went to finish his residency in Metropolis instead.     Of course, as dangerous as the inmates at Arkham are, none of them had *guns.*     There's a ritual Jon used to do, though, taking a shower and then grabbing coffee before jumping on the Hyperloop. And he did that this time, too, and stopped to chat with fellow recruit Cael Becker, so it's a chunk of time after the op's over and everyone checked in that he comes into their dorm suite.     "Martin, I'm back!" he calls, voice cheery... and then the empathic backlash of worry and pain hits and he stops just inside the doorway, letting the door close behind him.     "Martin...?" This time more hesitant.
Martin Blackwood	Martin comes in from the bathroom where he had been washing the wound on his hand. It's not a large cut, but it is a bleeder and he has it wrapped up with papertowels. Even so there is red seeping through the white pressed to his hand. "Oh thank God... you're alright..." he says, relief flooding out of him in a tidal wave of emotion.     "I was... worried. Everyone else had checked in and you hadn't" he says, rubbing at the wound absently. "It was your second operation out with SHIELD and while the thing in Gotham was certainly creepy, this was an organized HYDRA drop... it's an entirely different situation." His words are coming out in a flood one over another. In other words, he's babbling.
Jonathan Sims	Jon blinks at Martin and walks over toward him. "Hey, it's okay... I'm fine. I was just taking a shower and getting some coffee. Agent Becker had my back, Dr. Foster and Agent Drew had a handle on the situation... that robot girl... broke an alien's tentacles, I think." He smirks, and it's a surprisingly calm smirk for a man who's only been dealing with aliens and magic /directly/ for a few weeks.     He holds out a hand toward Martin's own hand, and the wound thereon. "Let me see that?"
Martin Blackwood	"It's nothing. Just almost broke one of the decorations and when I caught it it poked me a little" Martin replies. "That's all." He looks at Jon and his expression hardens. "You could've called you know. To let me know you were back in one piece."     There's pain in him. Hurt. Worry. "I'm... glad that you were given backup. Agent Becker has backed me up on past missions... just... next time, call?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon takes Martin's hand and frowns down at it for a moment, then says, "Stay right there," and goes into the bathroom to find antiseptic ointment and a plaster.     "If I'd been hurt, someone would have called you," he says in what he clearly thinks is an entirely reasonable tone but is a little more offhand than it should be. "Anyway, I heal faster now, so even if I /did/ get hurt it'd be fine."     He comes back out of the bathroom with his first aid supplies, smiling. "It's fine. I'm fine. Just another day at the office, right?"
Martin Blackwood	"It's not just another day at the office, Jon!" Martin says, anxiety burning off of him again. "These things you're dealing with, they're much more deadly than any psychopath in the asylum. Or any of your patients."     He fixes Jon with a hard stare. "HYDRA will not hesitate to shoot you and while you're recovering they will abduct you and take you away for torture and experimentation. Besides... do you even *know* what you were after last night? I do. A biological weapon."     "Sure your body could survive an outbreak, but could you mind handle feeling all those people dying one after another?" He shakes his head. "You have to take these more seriously!" he says emphatically. "It's not like being a super hero! A lot of the time we don't get recognitio! And if we screw up, entire countries could fall not just the occasional innocent!"
Jonathan Sims	"I'm not... Martin, I'm taking it seriously, but..." Jon hesitates, frowns. "Isn't... doesn't taking it seriously mean... brushing it off? The... danger, the... I mean, it's hardly the first time my life's been in danger these past few weeks. I was nearly eviscerated at the Gotham Fireman's Ball." And again, that deliberately offhand tone. And... he /hasn't/ really told Martin what he's been up to, beyond vague statements about his life being in danger and the whole business with the Iron-Bound Book of Skelos. But there are scars on his face now, that he hasn't talked about at all.     He reaches out to take Martin's hand again, looks down to start putting the ointment on it. He continues, "I don't care about recognition, Martin, you know that." He sounds... hurt. "And I know how important this is. I'm just... I'm just trying to..." He frowns down at the hand. "It's fine," he repeats, stubbornly. "I'm /fine/. I had to get a little too close to a man wearing too much cologne, but I'm /fine/."
Martin Blackwood	Martin frowns at Jon. "It's not something to just brush off. I don't know where you got that idea. I mean, sure you celebrate victories and commiserate at not so clean ones... but you never just brush it off." He shakes his head.     "Who gave you the idea that just... accepting Earth shattering events was the way to go?" he asks. He thinks he knows the answer already, but confirmation would be good to have so he could direct the animosity properly. As Jon applies the ointment he winces. "You're sure you're not hurt? No one was injured?" he asks.
Jonathan Sims	"Umm, besides Gothic Lolita? Not... that I know of. Consultant MacIntyre teleported everything out. There was some mess to clean up, but it... was a rather clean operation, aside from the alien that showed up on a Las Vegas nightclub dance floor." Jon smirks, briefly. "I suppose that'll be written off as part of the show. Oh, and Agent Drew started a fight as a distraction, but I'm sure she's fine or being seen to if she needs it."     Jon makes sure the wound it well-slathered with neosporin, then puts the plaster on it before he answers the other question. "I saved John's life once," he says quietly, "and he... said it was 'just another day ending in y.'" There's more there, Martin can tell, but he doesn't elaborate, focusing instead on Martin's hand.
Martin Blackwood	Martin shakes his head. "Man is a fool..." he says. "It's not a matter of 'days ending in Y' that's a posturing tactic that insecure people use to make themselves feel better when other people worry about them."     He watches Jon work, always fascinated by the utter calm the man displays when dealing with injured people. "From the immediate debrief it looks like it was a success?" he asks. The anxiety is still there but it's subsiding.     "Do you want to elaborate about this... man wearing too much cologne?" he asks, arching a brow. Jonc an tell his jealous tone is feigned. A teasing act to lighten the earlier tense mood.
Jonathan Sims	Jon doesn't look to be in the mood for teasing. "I wanted to die that night, Martin," he says finally. "I thought you were gone, I thought everyone was gone, and there was this... warm, bright light, this void. Nothingness. And I wanted it, so, so badly. To... to not be /scared/ anymore."     His shoulders slump, and he pulls away from Martin, moving toward the couch they've got set up in the living area.
Martin Blackwood	Martin follows, his expression somber. "I'm sorry, Jon..." he says, following the man. "I didn't..." he's said he was sorry many times and he imagines he would say it as many if not more in the future. "I'm sorry." He sits down and listens to the man.
Jonathan Sims	Jon sighs as he settles down on the couch, staring down at his hands. "I... came back to it because of Zed, actually. Zatanna Zatara, you saw her at the cemetery. I was reciting the Noble Truths, and she came in with the closing of the Heart Sutra--'Gate gate paragate parasamgate bodhi svaha.'" He smiles. "It... reminded me that form and emptiness are the same thing. That it is attachment, not love, that is the source of suffering. That there are no easy shortcuts to enlightenment--what that is even the goal."     He looks up at Martin, still smiling. "She's a good woman," he says, "and a good friend."
Martin Blackwood	Martin nods. "She's an incredibly powerful woman if the dossiers on her at..." he pauses. "Well, here are any indication. JLA associated. One of the most powerful mystics in existence as long as she can speak. Even without that she has tricks she can use without vocal components."     "I admit to being a little less apprehensive with her there at the encounter with..." He doesn't want to mention Sasha and bring back guilt on both their parts.
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods. "Powerful, yes, /very/ powerful. But a kind woman, and... a great help, through everything." He sighs. "I'm... I've been so scared, Martin. And I know... I know I'm getting training, now, but I feel..."     He hesitates a moment, then says slowly, "Do you remember, when I first got these powers, how much of a /wreck/ I was? Feeling everything, /seeing/ so much... screaming at you to get away because you were upset that I could read your thoughts?"
Martin Blackwood	Martin nods. "I do..." he says softly, looking at his husband with worried eyes. He can't read minds so he can't tell how Jon has been and it grates on him sometimes. It wasn't so much that Jon could read his thoughts, it was that he couldn't read Jon's. That is what had made him so upset when Jon first got his powers. The lack of balance.     "What is it, love?" he asks, reaching over to place his uninjured hand on the man's arm. "What's on your mind?" It's as much a vocalisation of his discomfort as he can allow himself these days, since the imbalance is still there.
Jonathan Sims	"I... I'm sorry that I..." Jon hesitates, looking down at the spot where their legs are almost--but not quite--touching. "I've been... holding back because I... proximity makes it harder to ignore. You're /right there/, no defenses, I could just /look/..."     He looks up quickly, eyes wide. "But I won't! I promise, I won't, it's just, I don't know how to... I wish I could... gods, I hate this, even now I can't help knowing what you're feeling and it just makes me feel /guilty/ all the time. You're upset because of the lack of balance and I don't know how to... rectify that."
Martin Blackwood	Martin frowns thinking. "I... well... is it only confined to empathy or can you extend it to telepathy?" he asks. "I mean... if it was telepathy the connection would be two way... wouldn't it?" he asks.     "I... it's out of my wheelhouse so I'm mostly going by what I know about the power. But some are different than others." He gives the man a curious look as if silently asking if the man knows what kind of telepathy the Archivist employs.
Jonathan Sims	"Oh!" Jon's expression brightens. "Oh, I hadn't... I forget, I try to keep it, ahh, 'turned off' as it were, but... I /can/ send my feelings to others. Thoughts would be..."     He hesitates a moment, and then reaches out to put a hand on Martin's cheek. Looks into the man's eyes, and furrows his brow a little.     It's faint, like an echo, like Jon calling from far off, but it's there: <<Martin? Can you hear this?>>
Martin Blackwood	Martin, for his part, tries to let his own mind be open to man. Letting down the barriers, limited as they are to being with. At the faint echo he jumps. <<I can... it's faint. But I can hear you!>>     He pauses and then asks. <<Can you hear me?>> He hopes he's not yelling his thoughts at the man, but how do you actually modulate your internal voice's volume. Is that even possible?
Jonathan Sims	Jon laughs, and then spontaneously leans forward to kiss Martin. A brief thing, but it's only the second kiss they've shared since Martin came back. <<Brilliant!>> he says, and this time his voice is louder. <<I wonder what range I can do this at. Do you think it'd be stronger because of the emotional connection?>> His mind is running off, as it's wont to do, wondering just how this works, how they might use it tactically, whether his voice sounds the same in Martin's head as in reality.     And the /emotions/, well... that's easy, and strong, flooding into Martin. Love and guilt and fear all tangled together. Loneliness, horrible aching /loneliness/, a gaping maw that's still threatening to swallow him whole. Even with Martin /right here/ he's been feeling the distance, not knowing how to broach it, terrified that... that...     Terrified that Martin faked his own death because Jon's transformation was too much to deal with. A thing he'd never say, a thing he didn't intend Martin to /know/, but his heart broadcasts it because it's the fear underlying everything else. That he's too much to deal with, too rude and prickly and difficult, that nobody wants him around, least of all his own husband.
Martin Blackwood	Martin smiles after the kiss. <<It's something we'll have to test for sure...>> he sends. He seems distracted. Processing all the emotions from Jon he's receiving.     As Jon's terror comes into understanding his expression softens and a wave of sympathy rushes out of him. <<Oh... honey... I... you will never be too much for me to deal with>> he reaches up to cup the man's face. <<Because I don't ever have to *deal* with you. I love you. All of you, prickly rudeness and all. Don't ever think that I left because of you.>>     <<I left... because...>> he thinks and the memory comes to Jon in a full first-person experience.     Martin's terror and the split second reaction of having to give Jon time to get away. The events after; the decision to hold off on showing himself for fear that they'd target Jon once more and he wouldn't be there the next time. The guilt and regret he felt every night as he slept alone in hotel rooms. His own nights of crying and longing for his husband, but a fierce desire to protect the man underlying it all.     After the memories wash out of him. He frwons. <<It was a bad call. And one I'm going to pay for for the rest of my life, I know. But I am willing to do that, if it's what it takes to stay.>>
Jonathan Sims	"You don't have to do /anything/ to stay," Jon whispers. There are tears in his eyes. "Where I go, you go. That's the deal, remember?" He smiles, and leans in to kiss Martin again, thoughts too scattered to put into words anymore. He couldn't fathom throwing Martin out, though, whatever he did--the man's too important to him, too central to his world. Didn't he tell his grandmother's ghost just the other day that he'd overthrow the world for Martin?     Finally he manages, through the kiss, <<I don't want to be lonely anymore.>> There's a desperate quality to the words, to his feelings. Aching longing, as though it's been years instead of weeks that they'd been apart.
Martin Blackwood	Martin leans against the man after the kiss. "You don't have to be lonely...ever again" he says softly, taking the man's hands in his own. "Let's go cuddle, the bed seems tailored for us both" he says as he rises and pulls Jon to his feet as well.     He's only half joking as SHIELD is very extensive in their background and personel checks. For all he knows, they *might* know exactly the type of matress the men use and where they compromise on it.