Owner	Pose
Martin Blackwood	Martin Blackwood is partaking in one of his most beloved evening pastimes: reading poetry. Sure, he could be at the range practicing his marksmanship or going to R & D and assisting with the examination of the specimesn found from Great Falls, but he had been doing that enough of late. Tonight was his night off from both SHIELD work and EMT duties so he was going to enjoy it with a good book, and an equally good cup of tea.     As he reads the first poem (the book is an old one and one of his favorites a collection of Keats' works) his mind wanders to his husband, as it often does. Things were much better. Better than he had hoped between them. Their schedules had started to fall into a cycle not unlike what it had been before the man had become Archivist. Before he had joined SHIELD. It's nice, truth be told, and had given them a level of normalcy outside of the missions and debriefing and mandatory quarantine sessions after being transported to an extradimensional space.
Jonathan Sims	Jon's had a... long day. He went back into the office for the first time since his grandmother's death, only to run into a Red Room neuroscientist who held him at gunpoint, threatened his life multiple times, and then left. He'd had lunch with Martin (and not told him a thing, of course), then come back to have therapy sessions with SHIELD agents, one of which had included a ghost. But a day of actually doing the work he was trained to do had him feeling better, so he'd run out to the mall to give Martin some time alone to relax while he picked up some home decor and dinner.     He comes into their suite carrying multiple bags and balancing boxes filled with pasta from an Italian takeaway he'd found in the mall complex. "Martin!" he calls, "I'm back! Can you come help me with this, there's... a lot." He's moving toward the kitchen, presumably to drop off the food.
Martin Blackwood	Martin closes the book, not bothering to place a bookmark in it poetry books rarely needed that sort of thing, and rises from his seat. "On my way" he says reaching the man partway through to the kitchen. "Goodness. You rather got ahead of yourself, didn't you?" he says, moving to take a few of the bags and one of the boxes from the man.     He shuffles his own load for a moment and then heads over to the kitchen. "Did you have a good time?" he asks, as he sets the box on the counter near the stove and moves to set his own bags on the floor. "What all did you get?" he adds.
Jonathan Sims	The bags are from a variety of stores--a candle shop, a home goods shop, one of those expensive soap shops, that sort of thing. Physical comforts, typical of Jon. He sets his bags down on the kitchen counter, puts the boxes aside. "A few things to make the place more homey. There's a throw blanket in that bag," he indicates one of the ones Martin has, "that I thought would go well with the SHIELD furniture. And... ahh... I got you something."     Jon presents Martin with a bag from one of those high-end tea import shops. "Loose leaf, including assam direct from India. You'd /love/ the store, the shop girl knows tea almost as well as you do." He smiles, a bit shyly.
Martin Blackwood	Martin looks up from examinging the bag with the blanket and positively beams at Jon. "Oh Jon! You didn't have to do that!" he says even though he takes the bag. He buries his nose in it and inhales deeply. "Oh it's lovely. I... I'll make a pot of it right now. Here" he says handing the bag with the blanket to Jon. "Go. Sit. I'll get the tea on and get us plates of food."     As he busies himself with the process he calls, "So. Anything else of note going on at the mall or just the usual press of people and capitalistic commerce?" He sounds amused by the whole thing, old habits of the quaint life of "The Colonies" still lingering in him despite fifteen years of removal.
Jonathan Sims	"They've already put up Christmas decorations. It's /early November./" Jon sighs, rolls his eyes, as he grabs the throw blanket and starts to move into the living room. "I think I spotted a good Chinese place to go to Christmas Eve, though, if you're wanting to do that this year."     The throw blanket is in blues and grays, something Martin would definitely like. He tosses it on the couch and stands there admiring the effect, and says in a too-casual voice, "I ran into Jubilation at the mall." He'd told Martin about the various people he'd met and grown close to, and Jubilee had been high on the list.
Martin Blackwood	Martin tosses a plate of chicken alredo, bread and a vegetable medeley into the microwave. And takes a look at the electric kettle; it's not boiling yet.     "Oh?" he says, only a trace of apprehension in his voice. He knew the woman ran with Constantine and Jon's old crew. "And how is she?" He turns to regard his husband as the man responds, trying to get a read on his emotional state after encountering a (presumably) lost friend.
Jonathan Sims	"She was mad at me for leaving without telling her anything. And rightly so." Jon sighs, and goes to sit down on the couch. "We saved each other's lives. We're friends. And I just... stopped talking to her because I didn't want her to have to choose between me and John."     He sighs, and settles his head on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He looks... pensive.
Martin Blackwood	Martin frowns and corrects. "Unlife. You saved her unlife. Unless it was before she was a vampire." He shrugs and looks to the kettle; it's boiling now and he removes it to pour into the teapot that's decorated with what looks like a crocheted owl cover the cozt it rests on has a similarly crocheted nest looking cover on it.     "I'm... sorry" he says. "I had assumed that you had actually spoken with all of them about... well..." He frowns and gets the food from the microwave before tossing in a second plate, his own. He moves around and takes the first plate to Jon. "But I understand why you didn't." He hands off the plate and folds his arms over his chest. "So what happened? You apologized to her I take it?" he asks.
Jonathan Sims	"Lord, Martin, /semantics/." As if Jon can talk. He sits up to take the plate, and nods. "She cried--blood tears, actually--and I felt awful, and thank goodness for Noriko or we might have had a real situation on our hands. Noriko wiped the blood away and we had a hug. And then... well. I apologized."     He starts eating his pasta, waiting until Martin's well back in the kitchen to say, "I promised her I'd make up with John." There, bombshell dropped.
Martin Blackwood	Martin was in the process of checking the tea, thankfully he wasn't pouring it otherwise they might need a new pot. He stops and turns to Jon regarding the man with a scowl. "You... what?" he asks, his voice quiet. "You can't be serious."     He places his hands firmly on the counter. "Jon... I know you haven't told me everything that you've gone through with the man. Only that it was bad." He shakes his head. "And now you're going to what... go back and *grovel* again? Beg for forgiveness? Is it really worth it?" He's angry and it wouldn't take the Archivist's telepathy to know.
Jonathan Sims	Jon snaps his head up and glares at Martin. "I never /groveled/, Martin," he snaps. "I said I was sorry for the mistakes I made, and I am, but I didn't /grovel/. And I'm not going to do so /now/. I promised her that I'd find a way to fix things, but groveling won't actually /fix/ them. And anyway, it's... something's /wrong/ with him, Martin, I /know/ it, I can /feel/ it."
Martin Blackwood	Martin frowns still but he looks down. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me. I know you wouldn't... I... I'm sorry." He moves to pour two cups of tea and brings one to Jon before returning to the kitchen and getting his food and tea. Moving back to the couch he sits down.     "What do you mean?" he asks, giving the man a confused look. "What sort of thing? Psychological or..." He leaves it open but the hint is clear. Is this a mystical thing?
Jonathan Sims	"I don't know!" Jon shouts it, frustrated, runs his hands through his hair. It's a very /Jon/ moment, that irritation at not knowing. Then he sighs, settles back. Repeats, "...I don't know. I just... ever since I left, I keep going over everything and something... something's /not right/. I have this... this terrible feeling in my gut and I can't shake it."
Martin Blackwood	Martin eats a bit and then sips his tea. "Do you want to tell me more of it?" he asks. "Maybe if you tell me what happened, I can better understand it and help you work out what might be wrong with him?"     He frowns at Jon and then sets his plate on the coffee table before them. "I want to help. I do. And I will try to keep an open mind about things, God knows I'm closed enough about my thoughts with him since learning he hurt you, but tell me what you are so confused by and maybe together we can figure it out." It is true that Martin has had more experience with the weird side of the world, having been with SHIELD longer than he's even known Jon.
Jonathan Sims	Jon eats a bit more pasta, expression thoughtful, and there's a few minutes before he responds. Then, just when Martin might be about to ask if he's going to say anything, he says, "It's all a bit of a blur, which I don't mean in the sense that... maybe the word is /whirl/. I feel... whirled about and confused. There was so much, so fast, just in the first /week/ I was out there risking my life every day..."     He stops speaking. Frowns. "The recordings. I made... hold on." And then abruptly he puts down his plate, gets up, and walks out of the room.     He comes back in carrying a box of micro cassette tapes. "I've found, of late, that recording my thoughts onto these tapes is... helpful. It feels, sometimes, like I have... too much in here," he gestures at his head, "and it helps to... put it somewhere, as it were." He starts fishing through the box. "I dated the tapes... aha! Here we go." He pops in a tape labeled '9/10/2021'. "Let's listen while we eat?"
Martin Blackwood	Martin frowns a bit at the microcassettes. It's not cork board conspiracy, but it's close. But Jon's explanation puts him at ease. Perhaps the Archivist is something of an imperfect tool for a single person to use. The human mind only has so much space, after all. Even those on the level of perfect recall (like Jon) or super geniuses have their limits. He nods and picks up his own plate. "Go ahead" he says. "Start it."
Jonathan Sims	Jon starts the tape and then leans over to pick up his plate so he can eat while they listen. The first tape details his first encounter with John Constantine--coming into his bar at the same time as Nettie Crowe, both with a warning about his new deal with a demon. John almost falling over due to an amulet that was leeching his life force whenver Jubilee fed on animals. Constantine forcing knowledge out of Jon's head, then promptly doing blood magic to find out who had sent the assassins after him. After he leaves, Constantine invites him to start staying in the House of Mystery.     The next tape is about the encounter with Set, where John wound up nearly dying. The next, a "thinning" where Jon got his first statement--from an alien, no less--and was attacked by strange metal insects that left the scars on his face. Constantine teaches him to use his Sight and falls over because of the amulet again. Constantine comes home after putting up wards at Nettie's shop and Jon bandages the wounds. The next day, Constantine goes out on a job and comes back wounded, refuses Phoebe's healing, lets Zatanna heal him instead. Then they go to Maine, /the same day/, and that's when Constantine almost dies from Jubilee eating a horse to heal her wounds, and Jon has to channel the power of the gods to save him. They fight after, because Jon is exhausted and snaps at Constantine. Jon winds up apologizing, tries to help Constantine through a panic attack, and then they go to the Gotham Fireman's Ball, where a necromancer attacks with a scarab and a scorpion, Jon very nearly dies, and Phoebe is injured.     And that's all within the first /week/.     It goes on, one thing after another after another. Jon is increasingly frustrated, increasingly unsure how to help his friend. Jon's convinced he's there to /help/ Constantine, he's there for a /reason/, but he can't seem to figure out how. Constantine won't stop, won't let people help, he starts berating Jon almost out of nowhere. There's a trip to Phoebe's birth village in Egypt, Constantine doing more blood magic and summoning demons, a visit to the British Museum. Constantine abruptly declaring Jon is trying to take over the Night Brigade. The Curio warding party, and then Jon's birthday party--which Constantine throws, then decides to spend the entirety of in the back, upset because of something Jon said. It's then that Jon gives up his amulet and leaves the Night Brigade. And the whole time, he keeps asking himself, "what am I doing wrong? Was he always like this and I didn't notice? Has his life been that awful? Is it /me/?"     By the time they're done listening it's late, and Jon's face is tear-streaked. He started sobbing around the time he spoke about saving Constantine's life and didn't stop until he just had no more tears to cry.     The last bit of tape is from just a few days ago. "I am beginning to think I am not meant to /help/ John at all. I begin to fear I am here to judge him, and that he will be found unworthy. And... I don't know if I can resist the gods' judgement, the way I did with Sasha. It may well be that I'm here to hurt or even kill my friend, and I cannot stand the thought."
Martin Blackwood	As Martin listens his frown deepens more and more. When it's all said and done he's leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his attention solely on the slow turn of the reels on the cassette.     "That... that isn't right..." he says once it's done. "That's not..." He looks at Jon. "You said he taught you how to use the Sight. Did you use it on him? Are you certain that it *is* John Constantine?" he asks. "Not some... doppleganger posing as him?" It wouldn't be the first time such things had happened in Martin's experience.
Jonathan Sims	"I..." Jon hesitates. "I... don't know if I'd /know/. I'd never Looked at /anyone/ before him, and he's warded six ways to Sunday." Clearly he's been in America too long; he's using the idioms now. He frowns, the turnings of the wheels in his mind almost visible.     "Oh good lord," he says after a minute or two, voice so low it's almost a whisper. "What if I'm here to destroy whatever's been pretending to be John?"
Martin Blackwood	Martin frowns and purses his lips. "It may be the case... it would certainly make sense for why your dreams sent you straight to him, despite not seeing him for... how many years had it been?" he asks.     He shakes his head. "You need to figure out how to get past his wards to See him, which... might require some... subterfuge." It is just habit for Martin to jump to obfuscation and subterfuge, the tools of a spook, to fix his problems. Though in this situation, he might be correct in the process.
Jonathan Sims	"Over a decade," Jon replies, slowly, thoughtfully. "And, no, I found the weakness in his wards, didn't you hear that? I can See him, I just... don't know what I'm looking at. I don't know enough to understand. He looks /awful/, tired and drawn and sickly and worn, but..."     Jon chews on his lip. "I need to talk to someone who'd understand all of this. I need to figure out who to even talk to. I can't just walk in there and... declare he's a doppleganger, because what if he isn't?" He sighs. "This... is going to be tricky, I think."
Martin Blackwood	Martin gives his husband a sad smile. "Welcome to being a spook" he says. He starts to pick up the remains of their plates to take back to the kitchen. "Do you have any ideas? Who to turn to for help?" he asks. "Is there someone outside that his little cotterie will listen to?" he asks.
Jonathan Sims	"I... don't know. Even Chas is starting to see something's wrong, I think." Jon sighs and gets up to help with clean up. "I'm going to have to sleep on this, I think. /Something's/ wrong, but I can't just go in half-cocked or someone might get hurt and it might not be me. Chas' daughter--did I tell you he has a daughter?--is living there now, and gods forbid something happens while she's about."
Martin Blackwood	Martin blinks at Jon. "Really. Oh... I... that's... wow..." He puts the dishes in the sink and starts to wash them after sliding things down the garbage disposal. "Hopefully you get some dreams pointing you in the right direction. And if they are horrible" because they often were, "I will be next to you to help you get back to sleep after."
Jonathan Sims	Jon turns to Martin, smiling at him as he's boxing up the leftovers and putting them away. "I know you will. Thank you, for... everything. For... loving me. I know it's difficult sometimes, living with me, and I... suspect it'll get even moreso, with this Archivist business."     He leans over to give Martin a kiss on the cheek before moving to help with the dishes.