TW: Self harm

[The following exchange is seen from an elevated view, as if filmed from the corner of the room]

Jonathan Sims, Chosen of The Entity, sat on the bed holding a wadded up towel to his face. The wooden door opened as Martin entered the room.

“I’m back from shopping. They didn’t have almond milk, so I had to get-” he paled as Jon offered him a pained smile, “oh my god, what happened?” He rushed to his partner’s side, hovering over him, unsure of what to do. 

“I, uh,” Jon mumbled, “I took out one of my eyes.”

“You WHAT?” Martin shrieked.

“Not the smartest thing I’ve done, but I have so many…”

“You’re joking.” 

“No, Martin, I’m not.” With that, Jon pulled the towel away from his face. The eye on his left cheekbone was missing, an empty socket in its place.

Martin quivered where he stood, somehow growing paler, “Wh-Why did you do that?” He reached to gently cup Jon’s cheek in his hand. 

Jon sighed, “I told someone that I would sooner gouge out one of my eyes than hurt them. They…called me on my bluff.” 

“So you decided to go through with it?” Martin asked, eyes wide with disbelief. Jon merely nodded in response and returned to applying pressure to the wound. 

“Who was it? Who was so important that you gouged out your eye?” Martin stepped away from Jon and began pacing about the room. 

Jon was quiet for a long time, his two original eyes looking at the floor as the rest of his eyes watched Martin pace, “Mx. Express…”

Martin stopped. His hands became fists at his side, but when he spoke, his voice was quiet, “You gouged out your eye to prove that you wouldn’t hurt the kidnapping murderer?” 

More or Jon’s eyes met the ground as his face flushed in shame, “I gouged out my eye to prove that I wouldn’t hurt my friend.” 

Martin let out a long, shaky breath, “I can’t believe I let it get this bad,” he said with a shake of the head, “I can’t believe I didn’t see that you were getting like this sooner.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself, Martin.” Jon consoled.

“Like hell I shouldn’t,” Martin retorted, spinning around, “you’ve been closing yourself off from everyone in your day to day life, getting more and more invested in strangers on the internet, to the point of hurting yourself to prove something that they should have known already!”

“They haven’t had a real friend before Cara Liss. They think everyone is out to hurt them. They need to know that they’re not. That there’s at least someone out there that genuinely cares about them.” 

“And why do you care? Why do you care so much about this person who kidnaps people and experiments on them? Why do you care so much about this rando on the internet who probably doesn’t care about you?” The more Martin spoke, the louder his voice became. The louder his voice became, the more he shook. And the more he cried. 

“Because I didn’t care enough about Tim,” Jon yelled back. He breathed heavily as a sob threatened to burst from him, “because I didn’t care enough about Sasha. Because I didn’t care enough about anyone or anything but solving those damned mysteries and satisfying my damn curiosity.” Despite Jon’s best efforts, the tears began to leak out anyway. 

“So it’s guilt, then,” Martin said, letting out a deep breath, “you feel guilty for their deaths, so you’re trying to make up for it by, what? Caring about someone else to the point of self harm?” He wiped the tears from his face and sniffled.

“I feel guilty for the whole damn thing, Martin. For their deaths, for Daisy’s death, for Melanie being blinded, for starting the bloody apocalypse…”

Martin sighed, then stepped toward the bed. Jon bounced slightly as Martin sat down on it, “I don’t know how to help with that much guilt. You need to see a professional.” 

It was Jon’s turn to sigh, “You’re…not the first to suggest that. But what therapist would agree to see me? I mean, really, Martin, I look awful.” 

“I think the eyes actually work for you, but that’s beside the point,” Martin exhaled as he thought, “what about on tumblr? Are there any therapists that you’ve run into?”

“None that I’ve seen, no,” Jon answered. But then he got a thought, “although… I think I remember seeing one mentioned on Akechi’s blog.”

“Alright,” Martin said with a nod, “I’ll ask Akechi, then.”