half_a_soul (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
half_a_soul) wrote2010-01-29 01:11 pm
half_a_soul) wrote2010-01-29 01:11 pm
Entry tags:
Negotiations [Locked to future alt!verse Jackson]
Jono had known it was likely to happen at some point. He'd been far too deep into Jackson's mind to not know why exactly he had run to the Nexus and why he was so insistent on not going back. Not, mind, that Jono wouldn't have tried talking him out of returning to his world, but it was easier that he didn't want to.
And, after about six months with nothing happening, Jono started to relax, as well.
The first one, he met in the Nexus, asking questions about Jackson. The second one he met there as well, though she was more subtle. Both wore the same sort of clothing Jackson had arrived in. Normal grunts, nothing more. Dangerous enough, he supposed, but mostly poor sods who were in the same bad position Jackson had been in.
He sent them home with no memory of Jackson, the Nexus or their mission. He'd been foolish enough to believe that would be enough.
The third one actually made it to his apartment, luckily while Jackson was out. While Jono had been out, too, but he arrived home first from practice to find the soldier--more advanced and better trained than the first two--pointing a gun at him and demanding to know where Jackson was. He'd probably have gotten off lightly if he hadn't shot Jono's guitar to make a point.
Jono made a point right back. Even with future medical advancements, it would take a long time to heal from first degree burns over most of the body. And then they'd have to straighten out his mind. It was possible the soldier could recover from the mental fucking Jono'd given him, but he'd embedded a message for the first telepath that looked at him to find. Jackson was under his protection.
He'd thought that had been the end of it. It certainly seemed to be for about a month. Then Jono woke up to a strange mental signature in the flat. He slipped out of bed, trying not to wake Jackson before putting on a pair of pajama pants and heading for the living room. Where he had to stop for a moment and stare at the man with white-blond hair and what could, maybe, have passed for the uniform of a Redcoat. Maybe. Once upon a time. And the wide leather wristband he knew held a vortex manipulator.
Time Agent.
Jono let out an explosive breath, hands on his hips. "Don't you bloody fools know when t' give up already?"
And, after about six months with nothing happening, Jono started to relax, as well.
The first one, he met in the Nexus, asking questions about Jackson. The second one he met there as well, though she was more subtle. Both wore the same sort of clothing Jackson had arrived in. Normal grunts, nothing more. Dangerous enough, he supposed, but mostly poor sods who were in the same bad position Jackson had been in.
He sent them home with no memory of Jackson, the Nexus or their mission. He'd been foolish enough to believe that would be enough.
The third one actually made it to his apartment, luckily while Jackson was out. While Jono had been out, too, but he arrived home first from practice to find the soldier--more advanced and better trained than the first two--pointing a gun at him and demanding to know where Jackson was. He'd probably have gotten off lightly if he hadn't shot Jono's guitar to make a point.
Jono made a point right back. Even with future medical advancements, it would take a long time to heal from first degree burns over most of the body. And then they'd have to straighten out his mind. It was possible the soldier could recover from the mental fucking Jono'd given him, but he'd embedded a message for the first telepath that looked at him to find. Jackson was under his protection.
He'd thought that had been the end of it. It certainly seemed to be for about a month. Then Jono woke up to a strange mental signature in the flat. He slipped out of bed, trying not to wake Jackson before putting on a pair of pajama pants and heading for the living room. Where he had to stop for a moment and stare at the man with white-blond hair and what could, maybe, have passed for the uniform of a Redcoat. Maybe. Once upon a time. And the wide leather wristband he knew held a vortex manipulator.
Time Agent.
Jono let out an explosive breath, hands on his hips. "Don't you bloody fools know when t' give up already?"
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After a moment, he smiles, letting go of Jackson's hand so he can pull off his jacket and his boots. He doesn't want to kick Jackson by accident and hurt him more. Once he does that, he lays down on his side, taking Jackson's hand again. "Yeah. I'll stay."
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"Thank you," Jackson answers softly, settling in with ease once Jono is by his side. He closes his eyes and smiles, giving Jono's hand a little squeeze again.
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Twenty minutes later, Hank would find them curled up together on the bed, Siouxsie having moved up behind Jackson's head. The doctor, of course, hadn't brought the cot, though he could easily have grabbed one before disturbing them if either had been awake. But, truly, this would be better for both of them. And, honestly, he had to say that he approved of them. Not just in the bed, but together, period. After all, anybody who could worm their way into Jono's heart that quickly had to be someone special.
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