Chapter Text
It's only a matter of time before they notice.
Martin was alone in the breakroom as he thought this, his eyes fixated on a small crack in the walls. Jon was out doing research, Tim was sleeping on the clock and Sasha was recording a statement, which gave him ample time to fully relax. A small furry body brushed against his face and he sighed as tiny legs crawled over his cheek. "It's not you guys, I promise. I'm just scared about how they'll react if they find out." More furry bodies moved against him, whispering their words of encouragement. The love they exuded made Martin relax into their touch. "I...I don't know" He sank down onto the floor and pulled his legs to his chest as his stomach buzzed, and his shirt bulged with tiny quivering forms, all desperate to make him feel better. The mass moved up to his collar before spilling out into the open. They swarmed Martin, pressing as close as possible and whispering words only he could understand. The attempt to comfort was appreciated, but it could only do so much.
What he needed was an idea of where to go if things went south. Sasha and Tim would probably be scared of him or try to put him in a hospital where he could be safely 'contained'. Jon had already made it clear that he found Martin annoying, and Martin imagined he'd the opportunity as yet another reason to get him out of the archives. He couldn't even tell himself that was the worst-case scenario because he knew for a fact there were worse things to be done to someone like him. "They'll be scared of me," Martin murmured. "Jane made sure of that." Even the thought of her made him cringe. They were still on good terms, but he'd heard lots about her while working in the archives, and it was clear that anyone who worked here either wanted her dead or wanted her to disappear. He couldn't blame them either, if he had met Jane before the hive he would have been terrified by her horrendous crimes. It was hard to understand what she was doing from an outside perspective and even harder to understand the love of the many beings that made her body a home.
His head jerked up as he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. He cursed and began gesturing wildly for the bees to get back under his shirt as the steps drew closer and closer. When the door finally opened all the bees except one were hidden under his shirt or inside of him, with the remaining one sitting atop his head.
Elias stood still in the doorway. "Martin? What are you doing on the floor?"
"I ..uh-well. I'm sorry, I got distracted and I sat down-Oh there's my tea, I'll just take that and go." He stumbled to his feet and began pouring the cups, barely holding back a yelp as hot water splashed onto his hand. Elias stayed silent for a few seconds, setting Martin even more on edge as he waited for him to speak.
"There's a bee on your head."
Martin tensed further, then reached his hand up as the bee took off and bumped against his hand. "Oh I-I guess there is." He laughed nervously, then went silent as Elias continued to stare at him. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as Elias slowly tilted his head, appraising hm with an intensity that made Martin want to run. He had no clue what Elias was looking at, just that he wanted him to stop before he found something abnormal. Finally, Elias nodded to himself and smiled fakely at Martin.
"Hmm, how odd. You should find the source of this...problem. It seems to happen to you a lot." He gave Martin one last lookover before closing the door and walking away. Martin waited until his footsteps had faded before collapsing with relief.
"Why did you do that?" He asked. "I looked like an idiot!" He looked around for the remaining bee but found nothing. "Wha-So now you hide?" He crossed his arms across his chest and sighed deeply.
One day at a time. He reminded himself. Just a few more hours.
It's only a matter of time.
The thought popped into Jon's head at random intervals as he researched and worked and watched. In the beginning, it had been an almost constant nagging that went on and on as he worked among those who researched what he possessed. After a year had passed the situation become more humorous than scary. An institute dedicated to the research of the paranormal and esoteric was unable to spot an instance walking among their own, using their resources, and investigating cases, some of which had been his own. It was a risky game he played, but one that he was willing to take part in as long as he was able to learn and discover. His entire reason for joining the institute had been in pursuit of knowledge surrounding the fears of the world, and the Magnus Institue did just that.
And now he was here, working as an archival assistant alongside Tim and Martin, all three of them under the guidance of Sasha James. It was a nice gig with higher pay and better benefits, but ever since he'd joined the thoughts had started to come back with more intensity than they'd ever possessed before.
It's only a matter of time until they find out my secret and try to 'fix' it.
He tried to hide his fear, to interact with the others like he usually would (Which admittedly was not a lot), but it never went away. The fear of being known was stronger than it had ever been and it made his bones ache with the need to fight back, to bury the place in rubble, and get rid of the problem once and for all. It wouldn't be the first time he'd taken such an approach and he doubted it would be the last. There wasn't anything physically stopping him, the place was practically made for burning and explosions, and security inside the archives was lax at best. The only thing stopping him was the fact that it would end a part of his life he'd kept for years, and break the normalcy he'd come to love. The musty smell of pages and the greyish-green of the walls had grown on him and brought a quiet comfort that the burning and crumbling could never give.
Of course, there were also the people. As much as he hated to admit it, he did care about them. Sasha was competent and kind, and if his secret was ever revealed he was certain she wouldn't hesitate in finding a way to neutralize him. Tim was caring and charming, the kind of guy that you wanted to hate but couldn't because he was that damn likable. He was also the kind of guy to knock a dangerous man unconscious. And Martin didn't mean to be a hindrance, he just was. Even if Jon didn't value his input, the idea of Martin looking at him with scorn made him feel shameful.
He tried to think positive thoughts, the kind Georgie had suggested when they were still dating. One day at a time, people aren't paying as much attention to you as you think they are
Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, the positivity did nothing to quell his anxious thoughts. They lingered, showing him snapshots of all the different ways things could go. Would he run, be beaten to death, or would he kill them all in self-defense? He had absolutely no idea.
And he definitely did not want to find out.
It's only a matter of time before this happens in front of them.
Tim had become a legend among those who worked in graveyards, funeral homes and he hated it. At first, he'd thought it was a single person who'd gotten a little too obsessed with him and decided to bury him alive to keep him in one place. Then it had kept happening. Sometimes it would be in normal places like a store or during a walk, where someone would stop dead in their tracks and stare at him with intense horror, wondering how he had escaped what should have been the end. Most of the time, they would try to ignore him, and if they never saw him again they'd usually be able to move on with their lives, although it was unlikely they'd ever forget the experience. However, if they saw him wandering a graveyard or came across him more than once, it was likely they'd act upon the urges they'd tried so hard to suppress. He'd been beaten with a shovel, tossed into open graves, begged to go back where he belonged and called an abomination. Every single time, it was by a person who worked in a graveyard or funeral home. Except for the murderer, he'd come across, but that was on a completely different level of messed up that he separated from the previous encounters.
It wasn't their fault. Most of them had spent years working around dead bodies, either dressing them up, positioning them, burying them, examining them, or simply wandering their resting place, and the idea that one of the bodies had escaped, leaving a hole where someone should be, terrified them. They wanted to right the wrong and place him underneath the surface where he belonged. Even if others thought they were crazy, they could tell. Tim didn't know if it was a scent, a look, or even a feeling, he just knew that they could tell he had died.
Usually, he was able to separate these attacks from his life at the institute, but sometimes they came much too close for comfort.
"Please, go back. You're not supposed to be here, please go back, someone has to take the spot." The woman begged. She was middle-aged, with greying red hair, and was swamped in a dark brown cardigan. Those who followed him always had warped ideas and often were convinced that since a grave had lost its body another one would have to go in. They always believed it was themselves or a loved one that would fill the gap. Tim never did this of course, even if he was sometimes tempted to. The fear they radiated was enough to make him feel like he was feeding the thing that had given him a second chance.
"I have to go," Tim responded casually as the woman continued to beg and plead. He jogged toward the car as she followed him, her hands shaking as she clutched the fabric of her cardigan. Tim opened his door and shut it while she chased him and banged on the window. He sighed, grateful that he'd stayed behind an extra hour. If Martin had been with him he might have had to explain why a woman kept insisting he was dead. It was easy enough to say she was just a lunatic, but the doubts would have been sown, and his behavior would have been more closely monitored. If they found out who he was he'd flee to avoid the prying eyes and questions regarding his own insanity. Sasha could back him up, but he didn't want to risk dragging her down with him. She'd worked hard to get where she was, and the last thing Tim wanted to do was get her fired because of his own mistakes.
He pressed his foot on the gas and took off down the road, leaving the woman behind as he headed toward his flat.
It's only a matter of time before Elias figures out.
Sasha had known about her coworker's oddities for a while. It was hard not to when she examined each of their lives at least once a day. She'd seen Martin and the bees that flew from under his shirt to nuzzle his face. She'd had an awkward encounter with Tim that had ended with him apologizing profusely, while she desperately tried to calm him down. As for herself, she'd known for about two years, although for the first one she'd been convinced that she was completely separate from the monsters that showed up in statements. She feared for all of them, but mostly for Tim and Martin, whose abnormalities weren't easily hidden like hers. They'd managed so far, which gave her hope, but the worry that one day they might slip up scared her.
The only one she wasn't certain of was Jon. She was 90% sure he wasn't a normal person and hoped that he had something hiding beneath his uptight attitude and grimaces. If he did turn out to be completely normal, the eventual reveal that he was working with paranormal beings would likely scare him half to death and make him paranoid for the rest of his life. But she highly doubted that he was a 'normal' person, so she pushed the idea of scarring a man for life to the back of her mind.
He was strange in almost every way, from the oddly placed burn marks on his hands to his extreme distaste for spiders, and the fascination he held with statements, especially ones that included burning. There were a few statements she was certain he'd reread multiple times, not for research purposes, but because he enjoyed them. He also disliked Martin for his 'incompetence' but Sasha was starting to think it was not because of Martin's personality, but instead because of the little friends he kept hidden inside. It was safe to assume that if Jon hated spiders, he'd also hate the other creepy crawlies that roamed the world (and his coworker's body).
Previously she'd pondered whether or not Elias knew about the situation, or if he'd just been unlucky enough to pick the most paranormal archive team possible. At first, she'd believed him knowing was the only possibility but after a month of watching him complain about the bees, she was starting to think he was just an oblivious fool who happened upon the team. There was no telling what he'd do if he found out their secrets, other than the fact that Sasha would not be joining him if he tried to dispose of them. Firstly because of her own paranormal abilities, and secondly because she didn't want anything bad to happen to her team. Even if they didn't know it, having them around made Sasha more comfortable. She hoped that someday they'd be able to talk freely about their peculiarities and that she'd be able to speak of her own abilities without being judged on morals.
There was a knock at her door and she looked up, expecting Tim or Martin (Since Jon never knocked for unknown reasons). Martin poked his head in, a single bee hovering over his shoulder. "There's a bunch of statements in French in the back, and I'm not sure if I should group them together, or order them by date alongside the others."
"Dates are fine. Thank you." She glanced up at the bee and Martin followed her eyes, his eyes widening as he realized it had perched on his head. He quickly shooed it away, his face red and his movements panicked. "Oh..thank you... I'll just... go." He pulled the door shut and loudly ran down the hall. Sasha smiled to herself and wondered how much longer she could keep the secret from them.