Chapter Text
This is how it all began: Jon woke up. It was kind of an anticlimatic thing what with the world much more than just on fire barely seconds (or was it years?) ago, the agonizing process of getting Jonah seperated from the eye enough to bring him to awareness to talk, the deal with The Eye that followed and the harrowing paths taken down one of the Spirals Domains, led by Annabelle Cane of all people in a horrible re-staging of Ariadnes Thread.
Martin hadn't been happy about the rather peaceful way things had gone. He had been prepared for a fight, not for an alliance. And he had been even less happy to be left behind, only soothed by the knowledge that they would find each other on the other side.
Jons last moments in the ruined world flashed by him seconds before he opened his eyes. He was calm but for a moment before he realized that something had gone very, very wrong. His body felt lighter, smaller. His eyesight was better. Not as good as when he had been a mere step away from godhood, but pretty damn good for the age he knew he should have been.
They had aimed for early 2016 knowing that the Spiral would probably get the year wrong in some way. But they had calculated one, maybe a two year difference at most. Not... not whatever this was.
Jon lifted his hand towards his face, furrowing his brow at what he saw, panic clawing up his throat. His hand was small, short, far too thin fingers unblemished by time and only slightly dry. Woven tightly around his wrist was what looked to be a bracelet, spun of spiderweb and... holding an eye?! Not a plastic or glass one either. Jon could feel the wet texture against his skin, knowing without the Beholdings nudge that this was the real thing.
It was a toxic green, staring up at him with what felt like judgement. And then it blinked and Jon let out a scream, scrambling back against the headboard of his bed. Not that that did anything. The thing was still attached to him and just came with, it's pupil moving about to take in the room now that it had been introduced to Jons frightened face.
A light went on behind his door, casting a slim sliver of warm orange under the wood. Jon froze as footsteps approached, a whole different kind of dread bubbling up inside of him that he hadn't felt for ages.
"Jonathan? Are you reading late again?"
The door to his room opened to an old, short woman clad in a faded white nightgown. Bleary brown eyes that flickered between annoyance and concern settled on his shivering form and Jon couldn't help but stare.
He hadn't seen his grandmother for so long. Hadn't thought of her for even longer and all of a sudden the pain of her loss tore into him like a butchers knife. Her eyes widened as Jon, usually so reserved, began to cry, great, heaving sobs wrecking his frail body.
She stood there, awkwardly in the doorframe, frozen to the spot and Jon cried harder, remembering her reluctance to care. He curled into himself, unable to stop the stream of hurt rushing over him, threatening to pull him under.
"Jonathan. What is this all about?"
Mrs. Sims took exactly two and a half steps closer, reaching out before thinking better of it. She knew how to handle Jon when he was bored, petulant or when he threw a tantrum. But this was foreign behavior and she did not know how to proceed without causing more harm than good.
Jon Knew this. And it was at least a little comforting to understand that her distance wasn't for lack of caring. But he too was out of his depth. He couldn't explain all the pain he had endured to come back. The horrors he had witnessed and that had been done to him. The sacrifices he had to make over and over again. Just to end up here, tiny and unprepared as his body shook with too much to hold and the sudden realization that he was all alone in this.
His grandmother inched another step closer and stiffled an involuntary yawn. "Is this about that book you told me about? With the spider?"
Ah so Mr. Spider had already left his mark. Jon thought distantly. It was as good an out as any. He nodded.
"Nightmare. Saw a spider when I woke up and got scared. Sorry for waking you." He was very proud that he had gotten through that without stuttering, even if his voice cracked on several occasions.
He felt the incredulous gaze of the eye from his bracelet and only just held back from sticking out his tongue at it. He wasn't an actual child for Christs sake.
"Ah. I'll go and make you a glass of warm milk then."
"With honey?" Jon dared to ask.
"Yes, I think we should have some left... somewhere."
She fled the room as dignified as possible and Jon stared after her unable to grasp her realness.
"Well." He said to the eye staring up at him. "That went about as well as it could have."
It didn't. This was a disaster. He had planned for Martin, Tim and Sasha to be there. To have a modicum of power and authority. But he was apparently at least eight years old, maybe nine. He'd had nightmares for quite a while after the encounter with his first Leitner.
This meant he was severely limited in what he could and couldn't do. Gods getting to the Magnus Institute was going to be an adventure indeed.
His grandmother came back before his thoughts could spiral any further, the promised beverage in hand. She leaned over to give it to him and carded a bony hand through his hair as he drank.
"Try to sleep after this and don't dare grab another book before the sun is up, you hear me? I'm going back to bed now. Good night."
"'Night." Jon mumbled back. He would have loved to throw himself at her, hug her tight, maybe cry a little more. But she wouldn't have liked that and Jon couldn't afford to act like a child now. He needed a clear head and a plan.
Jon watched mournfully as the light in the hallway flickered out, casting the room back into darkness. It was a good thing that he didn't need the glow of a lamp to think.
~~~
Starting up his habit of not sleeping immediately, Jon used the whole night to sip slowly at his milk while trying to make sense of everything that had happened until now.
Checking his calendar with the small flashlight he kept under his bed told him that it was the 23rd March 1999. So the Spiral had at least gotten the day and month right. The bracelet was obviously a joined effort of the Web and the Eye, although he had no clue what it did.
Trying to Know it only gave him static and a headache, which kind of made sense. He hadn't been able to look into the panopticon either and if this was an integral part of the Beholding than he probably wouldn't be able to look into it.
It did seem to have a life of its own, gaze sweeping around or locking onto him as though it was challenging him into a staring contest. Sometimes it seemed to change colour and then it would behave differently, but Jon had no idea what was up with that.
He felt the eye move on the point of contact he had with it on his wrist. It was disgusting and made him want to gag. And yet, in a weird kind of way, the physical presence of the Eye was also comforting. It told him that he wasn't just going crazy.
The next thing he tried was to reach out to Jonah. He had an urgent message to deliver and if he could spare himself the trip to London that was even better. That one failed spectacularly and gave him such a headache that he had to lay down for an hour or two before he could even begin to try and move again.
Alright, so he couldn't reach that far. Or maybe Jonah just had great mental defenses. Or maybe Jons child body was just that weak. Jon didn't know and he hated it.
His grandmother didn't drag him out of bed in the morning, despite it being a thursday. And it took Jon a hot minute to remember that Mrs. Sims never made sure he got to school on time. She was probably already out, doing old lady things. What exactly that entailed Jon had never known. She could have been a serial killer for all he knew. She definetly was out of the house enough for that and at this point Jon wouldn't be all too shocked about that.
He mulled that thought over. It would have upset him once. And there was a small twinge of a stab in his chest telling him it still wasn't okay. But right now her not being there was actually a pretty good thing.
It meant that he could skip school.
Skipping breakfast as he was wont to do he searched the flat for spare change, cracking open his old piggybank to scrape up enough for a train ticket. After a searching look out the window and a quick inquiry to the Eye about the weather in London he decided to throw on his thickest coat and take a bright yellow umbrella with him. He hated the thing with a vengance but he doubted dripping all over Elias' office would be the best first impression.
Buying the train ticket and boarding the right vehicle was easier than he had feared it to be. The Beholding was gracious enough to drop all the needed knowledge into his head and no one was suspicious or concerned about the little boy wandering about all on his own.
Settling in an empty cart, resting his head on the window pane he wondered about the excitement coursing through his body. With horror he found that he actually looked forward to meeting Jonah. Or Elias. He really should practice calling him Elias for now.
It was just, despite everything he had done he was the only one he knew here, the only one who could even begin to understand. And if everything went well this time around he would be an ally. Jon didn't want to hope. He hated Elias for everything he had done to him, but he also pitied the man for what he had become at the end. Jon knew Jonahs story inside and out. It had been a tragedy stretched thin over 200 years, with too much loss and a rotten reward. A fitting end for a villain. Only that the line was just as blurred between victim and villain as in Jons own case, trauma, manipulation, hunger, love and fear twisting everything until there was but a scrap of humanity left within.
He was glad he had so much to contemplate or the over two hour train ride would have bored him to death. As it was it was barely a blink later when the train arrived at his stop and he scurried out with the masses.
London was a familiar blur and yet the size of it felt wrong. Jon was used to navigating the crowded streets and riding the tube in an adult body. As a child as small as he was the whole endeavor was nervewracking. He constantly had to watch out where he was going because no one would just look down.
He heaved a relieved sigh of relief when he saw the familiar imposing building appear in his field of vision. Only to nearly start hyperventilating because, holy fuck he was standing in front of the Magnus Institute.
The eye on his wrist rotated in agitation, desperate to know why they stopped so suddenly. Jon ignored it in favour of staring at his old or future work place. Tentatively he reached out to Elias again, hoping to alert the man to his presence. But the static that hummed in his mind was only his own, the rest dimmed by thick fog he knew belonged to the Lonely.
Jon grimaced. Ugh he had hoped not to walk into Peter so early on. There was nothing he could do about it, though. Turning back now was a big no no. There was no knowing when he would be able to come here again. His grandmother would surely have a strong word with him once she found out he wasn't attending school.
Taking deep, measured breaths Jon tried to calm himself down and crossed the street, striding purposefully into the building.