Work Text:
“Am I free to go to the movies tonight?” Martin repeated the question back at Jon slowly but in a strangely high-pitched voice.
He stared at Jon in wide-eyed confusion which was a perplexing reaction to such a simple question. All too familiar frustration arose inside Jon, but he tried to bite it down. He needed Martin's assistance with this task, so he could not express his annoyance just yet.
Jon had found Martin drinking what must’ve been his fourth cup of tea that day, so he figured Martin was not busy with anything important. Now Martin just kept holding the cup up, midway towards his face, like he had forgotten if he was raising or lowering it in the first place. Jon tried to politely wait for a proper reply, but since Martin just kept staring at him, he had to speak again.
“I had originally scheduled this one for Tim and Sasha, but unfortunately, both of them have more urgent matters to attend to,” he explained. “According to the statements, the phenomenon only happens to two people on Friday nights, but the theatre in question will be closed for business after the weekend, so I cannot wait or go alone.”
Tim and Sasha had both refused politely and firmly, even when he had offered to pay not only the overtime fee but also for popcorn and a cab home afterward. Jon suspected anyone with a normal social life had better things to do on a Friday night than conduct some relatively routine investigation, which said something unflattering about both him and Martin. He had not wanted to ask Martin, but the statements were fresher, the latest one just a week old, and his curiosity overwrote his apprehension to spending any more time with Martin than strictly necessary.
“You will, of course, be compensated for the overtime,” Jon added, trying to understand why Martin was stalling.
“Oh, this is about the creepy movie theatre,” Martin exclaimed with understanding slowly settling on his round face, “I read some of those statements.”
Jon nodded, irritation making way for confusion of his own. What else could it have been about? Martin really had no spark of a researcher in him. How had such a person managed to graduate with a master’s degree in the first place? Especially since he couldn't have been that much older than Jon himself.
Martin’s cheeks began to redden, slowly at first, but then the colour seemed to spread until his entire face was flushed. He was so pink that Jon thought that if Martin were not wearing a collared shirt underneath his sweater, Jon would have witnessed the blush spreading all the way down his neck. After Jon stared at him for a while, Martin finally remembered he was holding his mug. He set it down on the table, too close to unsorted statements to Jon’s liking, but since he needed a favour he did not comment.
“Will it even work for us?” Martin asked.
“What do you mean?” Jon asked, no, demanded.
“What if the ghost is homophobic?” Martin clarified.
“What?”
“I read the statements. It haunts men and women who go to movies together, what if it won't show up for us?”
“First of all, there is no ‘ghost’, there is a strange, allegedly supernatural phenomenon reported in the theatre but nothing that would suggest a ghost per se, and secondly, if it does indeed target supposedly straight couples, we can hardly call it homophobic,” Jon recounted slowly.
“It is kinda suspicious still,” Martin said.
“Martin, please focus,” Jon pleaded.
“Alright, alright, I’ll come to see your creepy, and possibly homophobic, phenomena,” Martin rolled his eyes but not maliciously. His blush was receding, leaving his pale face blotchy in the process.
“Thank you,” Jon said, trying to hide his relief. If Martin had said no, Jon wasn’t sure what he had done.
After clocking out of work an hour later than usual, though Jon had no idea what Martin did during that time, they headed to the site together. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city. The pleasant scenery was marred by Martin making awkward small talk, which Jon mostly tried to ignore. The small cinema sat just a short bus ride away from the institute. It was old and somewhat rundown, surrounded by far more modern buildings, and Jon understood why it was to be demolished.
“At least it doesn't look haunted,” Martin commented, and Jon bit his lip to stop himself from starting another argument about the existence of ghosts.
Jon pushed the door open and let Martin follow him into the theatre. Despite it being Friday, there weren't too many people in the lobby. A few couples, a trio of old ladies, and a group of teenagers were waiting for the movie to start. The teens were dressed in faux nineties fashion and seemed to think everything old was “retro” and thus cool. Jon paid them no mind.
A few faded posters from movies so outdated that even Jon recognized them hung on the walls, and the smell of stale popcorn lingered in the air. Jon could not recall when he had last been to movies, it could very well have been with Georgie. The memory did not help his already sour mood.
Jon walked up to the ticket booth and bought two front-row seats to a movie that started at 19:15 sharp, not caring what film they were showing. He hoped that if he mimicked the party size, the starting time, and the row well enough to match the statements, it would be enough to recreate the phenomena. Behind him, Martin bought a large box of popcorn.
The doors opened, and the sparse crowd was let into the theatre. Jon eagerly walked toward his seat, and Martin followed, clutching onto his box of popcorn. Jon glanced at him disapprovingly, imagining the clumsy Martin tripping and spreading popcorn all over the theatre for some poor cleaner having to try to clean up in between shows. Martin noticed his stare, assumed he was thinking something much kinder, and smiled.
“You can have some if you want,” he said, offering the box to Jon.
“Thank you,” Jon said, taking exactly three popcorn kernels out of the box.
Their seats were in the middle of the first row. In the small theatre that was too close to the screen to give a good view, but they were not really here for the movie. Other moviegoers settled to their seats somewhere behind Jon and Martin. The teenagers giggled about something. The seats were old and worn and a bit narrower than their more modern counterparts, which was no problem for Jon, but Martin beside him struggled little to fit his seat comfortably. Jon pretended not to notice, not wanting Martin to feel self-conscious. There were several things Jon did want Martin to feel bad for, but they were all work-related.
The lights dimmed, and the trailers began shortly. There was nothing remarkable in them, but Jon kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the supernatural anyway. There was not any. The trailers for terrible rom-coms and fantasy movies Jon would not see eventually ended, and the actual movie started.
It turned out to be an American horror film, which Jon dryly thought was appropriate. The set was described as a small village in the story and Jon thought there were far too many churches in it. The protagonist was a young man sticking his nose where it was not wanted. He was eventually attacked by a vengeful ghost played by an actress clearly outfitted for sex appeal and not for being frightening. Yawn.
The movie droned on, and Jon started to suspect that nothing out of the ordinary would happen. He just was honestly spending his sparse free time watching a subpar movie with Martin of all people. He decided to steal a few more popcorn to make the situation a bit more tolerable. Jon put his hand in the popcorn box between them, only to find Martin’s hand in there already.
“Sorry,” Martin muttered. He moved his hand away, forgetting the popcorn was all his.
Jon was all but ready to give up on the theatre’s so-called paranormal properties when something on the screen caught his attention. The movie got… Weird. There was no other way for him to describe it well. The screen got dimmer and dimmer until it was almost entirely black, save for a small spot of light in the middle. In the light, something eight-legged beckoned to him.
No one else in the audience reacted to it, but Jon found the small light on the screen enticing, almost inviting. He leaned forward in his seat, only vaguely aware of the teens continuing their soft chatter behind him, and Martin’s relentless popcorn eating. Jon stared at the light and only the light. Nothing else felt interesting or frankly important. He had to get closer, movie etiquette be damned. He needed to be closer.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed Jon by the shoulder, pulling him back to his seat.
Only he realised he had been standing. When had he stood up? Martin kept his hand on Jon’s shoulder as Jon looked at him in confusion. He gazed back at the silver screen, only to find the unremarkable movie playing on it again. The protagonist had found several guns and was about to shoot the lady ghost.
Jon clearly looked as shaken as he felt, since Martin leaned closer and whispered: “Do you want to leave?”
Jon did not trust his voice to work yet, so he simply nodded. Martin pulled away, taking his hand from Jon’s shoulder with him. Jon suddenly felt cold and vulnerable. He did not have to worry for long, however.
Taking rare initiative, Martin grabbed Jon by the wrist and led him toward the exit. The teens snickered from the back row as they left. Jon was sure they would report to their friends that some geezer got too scared of a B-grade horror film to stay more than halfway. He let them have their fun.
Back in the lobby, Jon instantly felt better, although he still had to sit on a bench. Martin remained standing but kept a close eye on Jon.
“Jon, what happened?” He asked with concern plain on his face.
“Would you believe me if I said I experienced the phenomena described in the statements?” Jon asked in return.
Martin nodded seriously. He was no skeptic, and he had heard the same statements Jon had read. One detail bothered Jon. Not one of the survivors had described anything like a spider. He shuddered in realisation of how lucky he had been again.
“What do we do now?” Martin asked.
“Go home, I suppose. Tomorrow, I record additions to the statements,” Jon said, pleased with how professional his voice sounded.
“That's it?”
“Yes. The phenomena, while genuine and unsettling, will not likely cause any further complications, as the theatre will be decommissioned next week.”
“I see.”
Jon decided he was feeling well enough to leave, and stood up from the bench. He wanted to be gone well before the movie ended. Martin looked at him like he was ready to catch Jon if he got shaky again and fell, which was both kind and infuriating.
“I guess we discovered one more thing worth mentioning in the additional notes,” Martin said.
“Which is?” Jon asked.
“The ghost is not homophobic.”
It was probably a joke to lighten the mood, but Jon did not find it funny.
Jon sighed deeply, “As I told you before, that was never a concern here. And furthermore, this was not even a date.”
“I know, I know. I'm just saying, if you ever do need someone to go on a spooky date with you, I’m your man.”
It was an even weirder joke, Martin seemed to realise this, too as he chuckled nervously and glanced away from Jon. There was something curious in his reaction that Jon did not care to investigate. Martin had done him more than one great favour today. Jon cleared his throat.
“Thank you, Martin. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.