Chapter Text
It was rare moments like this that Jon felt fully, truly at peace. Not just pulling one statement after another, digesting them and feeling them, but Seeing. Seeing everything.
He was aloft in a sea of experience, of knowledge, of pain and fear and it felt wonderful. It hurt and he digested that pain like fine whiskey, letting it burn slowly through him until he was satiated.
There were the screens, in this room, glowing faintly in the darkness, showing moment after moment of terror, before flickering to another awful specter, and audio flowing through a dozen channels, narration of horror after horror as soothing as the ocean at the beach.
It didn’t last long enough, though, before Elias put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back to reality.
“Don’t push yourself too hard, Jon,” he warned, but he was smiling, and Jon smiled back, letting Elias guide him out of the heart of the Eye. As soon as Jon’s feet crossed the threshold, he stumbled, and Elias caught him, supporting him as the wave of disconnection hit.
“I- I…”
“It’s okay, Jon. You did very well.”
Jon managed to smile up at him again, feeling a glow of pride swelling in his chest. Elias was not known for high praise.
It took a moment before Jon was able to stand on his own, but he still felt weak, lost, and Elias seemed okay to keep a fatherly arm around his shoulders as they made their way out of the Heart.
“Jonah was right,” Elias continued, “You’re a natural. Certainly fitting of your title.”
“Jewel of The Watcher’s Crown.”
Jon can’t remember much of his childhood, but he remembers the day he was Called to serve the Eye. The Watcher. The Beholding.
He remembered the finger pointed at him from the strange man, the gasps of his classmates, how his teacher had bowed as he was escorted out. Such a reaction… he was comforted to know he had finally earned such respect.
“Jewel of the Watcher’s Crown,” Elias echoed, then stopped, turning to face Jon head on. He was several inches taller - the growth spurt Jon had hoped for had never quite happened - and had to lean forward slightly so they were eye to eye. “I am… incredibly proud of you. You’ve come so far, especially in these last few years.”
Jon flushed with praise, but Elias wasn’t done.
“I have… I have plans for you, Jon. You’re going to do great things one day.”
“Like destroy the rebellion!?”
Elias smiled and brushed a lock of hair from Jon’s face. “Even grander than that, if you can believe it. If you can imagine that.”
“I-”
“But not yet, Jon. I know you’re eager to prove yourself, to push yourself. But your time is still coming. You’re still young, and your destiny does not lie in the destruction of some… petty rebels.” As he spoke, a momentary hardness crossed Elias’s face, a cold, destructive rage that made Jon flinch.
Seeming to recognize that, Elias softened into another smile. “I need you to trust me, Jon. Train, focus, work on yourself. Your time will come, I promise.”
“I trust you, Elias,” Jon swore, beaming, “I trust you, I just-”
“I know,” said Elias, and they both laughed. Elias knew. He Knew everything, and one day, Jon would too.
*****
Martin was waiting in their cabin when Jon got back, picking at an old tape recorder. He wasn’t a great servant of the Eye, but he was easily Jon’s best friend.
“Martin!” Jon all but swooned walking in, still dizzy from his turn in the Heart. He collapsed onto his bed and giggled, “Martin, it was amazing!”
“Yeah?” Martin abandoned his tape recorder and pulled his knees to his chest, watching Jon with a mix of eagerness and trepidation.
“It was… it was so much, but in a good way, you know? I could feel it all, but… but you know how when you’re overwhelmed you don’t feel anything too clearly? I saw, Martin. I mean, I SAW, and I saw everything so clearly, all at once!”
“Was it… was it scary?”
Jon smiled in bliss. “It was terrifying.”
Martin bit his lip. He was such a scaredy-cat sometimes, but Jon liked that about him. He wasn’t good at Seeing, either, not the way they were supposed to. He was smart, and insightful, and could do it, but he didn’t have the strength he needed to, not to properly See the way Elias could, the way Jon would one day.
“That’s not even the best part! Elias talked to me after, he says he has big plans for me! I think… I think soon I’ll be able to serve the Eye, properly serve it!”
“Oh! Um, Jon, that’s great!”
“Don’t worry,” Jon said, sitting up and reaching across, “You’re coming with me, no matter what.”
But Martin didn’t take his hand, just chewed nervously on his lower lip. It was only then that it occurred to Jon that it was early in the afternoon, and how strange it was that Martin was here at all.
“Actually, Jon. I, uh. I have something to tell you. P-Peter Lukas came by today. He wanted to talk.”
Jon felt his heart sink.
“He, uh. He wants me to come with him. To serve, uh. Serve the Lonely.”
“Are you going to?” Jon tried to keep the accusatory bite from his voice, but it was hard. Martin couldn’t leave, they were best friends, they were gonna rise together and serve the Eye and rule the world. Together. He couldn’t picture a future without Martin in it, he couldn’t! From the moment he came to the Panopticon, Martin had been there, they had been joined at the hip.
“I don’t want to leave you behind,” Martin protested, his voice squeaking, “I don’t! But, Jon! What else can I do? I’m not like you, I can’t do half the stuff you do. I’m not special like you.”
“You are!” Jon argued, but he knew it was a lie. Martin was… mediocre. At best.
“I told Peter I’d think about it,” Martin promised, “I don’t know yet. I wanted to talk to you about it.”
“I’ll miss you.”
Martin smiled. “I think that’s the point of the Lonely.”
They both laughed about that.
*****
Jon had managed to talk to Martin for a little longer before he nodded off, still exhausted from his experience in the Heart. By the time he woke again, it was dark, Martin was snoring, and there was a note next to his bed that he had missed dinner.
That was okay. Jon wasn’t hungry, but he did feel energized, alive and awake. He wasn’t about to go back to sleep, he wanted to move , find something to do, something to see… or See.
He put his shoes and jacket on silently and slipped out of the room. Behind him, Martin rolled over and kept softly snoring.
Ever since Jon turned 16, Elias had allowed him to occasionally leave the Panopticon, just for walks, just to stretch his legs, see the world outside of their “little temple,” as they called it.
It took Jon about 20 minutes to find an exit, wave to the Doorman, and breathe fresh night air.
In spite of the late hour, there were still plenty of people making their way up and down the streets of London. They walked quickly, eyes avoiding each other, in twos and threes, gripping each other closely. Jon smiled, taking a deep breath in and out. They were frightened, and even if he couldn’t properly See it, just knowing it was satisfying.
The cameras followed him as he walked down the street, and the people avoided him like the plague. It felt good. There was a strut to his step as he walked, not with any particular destination in mind.
Really, aside from the people themselves, there was nothing out here for him. He wasn’t feeling up to hunting for a statement, though he knew he could, with ease. He just walked, feeling like the king of the world.
He had turned a corner a few blocks from the Panopticon when he became dimly aware he was being followed. Well, that was nothing to be concerned about. It was probably a fan, someone who saw a true Servant of the Eye and wanted a contact to get in.
He didn’t even think of the rebellion until someone lunged at him from an alley with violence, and he blacked out almost instantly.
*****
“Are you kidding me?”
“I didn’t think to ask for ID.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The kind of heat you’ve brought on us?”
“No. I don’t, and I don’t care.”
Jon stirred, dizzy and confused. He saw… nothing. Something was over his head, something was pressing against his eyes. He tried to move, but he wasn’t able to. He was… he was tied up? Why was he so confused?
He was sitting, he was sure of that. He couldn’t move his arms, they were… there was something that dug into his wrists. Rope? Was he tied up?
“H-Hello?” he asked, before it could occur to him how helpful it would be to pretend to be unconscious for a little longer. He couldn’t think at all.
“He’s awake,” said a new voice, “Shut up.”
There was a moment’s silence, then what might have been French? German?
They were… arguing?
“Help?” Jon asked, trying to turn his head. It didn’t help. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t… See either. There were voices, maybe women’s voices? With different accents? He couldn’t tell.
There was a strange sensation, was a bag pulled off his head? Had one been there in the first place?
“Oh fuck, he’s just a kid.”
“Like you’re much older.”
There was a soft sound Jon couldn’t place, and he managed to ask a proper question, “What’s happening? Where am I?”
“You don’t Know?” The speaker sounded… smug. Yes, Jon could tell that she (and it sounded like a “she”) was decidedly smug. “Poor boy, all cut off from your Master, must be so scared. ”
“Who are you?” Jon demanded, trying to put an edge into his voice. He was nobody to be trifled with, he was strong, a noble Servant of the Eye and he would not be intimidated.
There was the sound of footsteps, a faint protest from someone who wasn’t the smug woman, and suddenly Jon felt the pressure of someone being very much in his personal space.
“Melanie King,” she said, like she was gloating, “do you know who I am now?”
Jon’s mind spun, trying to remember. He had heard that name before, where… “The traitor!” he exclaimed, “You’re the traitor!”
A hand touched his face roughly, digging into the blindfold (he had been blindfolded!) and ripping it away.
He blinked at the sudden brightness, then flinched at the sight of a pair of empty eye sockets staring at him.
There was a cruel laugh to his side, he turned his head to see a young woman sitting on what looked like an old desk. There was a malicious glint in her eyes. Behind Melanie was another woman, leaning against the stone wall, squinting at the scene.
He didn’t want to look at Melanie King, the horrid twists and curls of scar tissue that decorated her empty eye sockets, her smug grin.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked the woman leaning on the wall, “If he has any connection-”
“He doesn’t,” Melanie said, “Do you?”
“I-”
“Do you recognize him, Daisy?”
The cruel woman tilted her head, looking like a cat about to pounce as she studied Jon’s face. “No. He someone special?”
“Jonathan Sims,” Melanie said, and her companions both sucked in a breath. “The Jewel of the Watcher’s Crown, hm? A special little boy.”
“I’m not that little,” Jon protested, of all things, “You’re barely older than I am!”
The cruel woman, Daisy, laughed at that too.
“Shut up,” Melanie snapped, backing away. “What are we gonna do with him? Elias is gonna want him back, we can’t keep him.”
“Keep me?” Jon sputtered.
“Shut up,” advised Melanie, “Daisy, what were you thinking?”
Daisy shrugged. “I just saw a snotty kid and wanted to knock him down a peg.” She pulled out a knife, balancing its weight in her hand. “We could just… disconnect him?”
Before Jon could let out a squeak of terror, Melanie shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. He’d have to want it, like I did.” She smiled. “Not that I don’t want to, just for fun.”
“He’s a kid, Melanie,” said the third woman. Jon looked at her imploringly, but her pity seemed to cover little more than not mutilating a teenager. “What if… what if we did what we did with Sasha?”
“Turn him?”
“It worked for her, didn’t it? And I know Tim is getting antsy. He could use a job.”
“What?” Jon asked anxiously, “What are you going to do to me?”
The third woman approached him, her eyes narrowed. “You hear about everyone’s pain, don’t you? Working for the Eye. You consume it, it fuels you, and you don’t even recognize the evil you’re part of.”
“I-”
“Well, your Eye can’t see you now. When you hear our pain, you’re going to feel it. You’re going to understand exactly what you’re part of. No wool over your eyes, no filter, nothing. You’re going to know exactly the hell your lot have put us through and get nothing in return.”
“I-”
“And then we’re going to let you go, okay?”
“What?”
She glowered. “You’re going to have to make a choice, Jon. We’re giving you a benefit of doubt you don’t deserve. Once you learn what’s really going on, you get to choose. You go back to the Eye, you keep doing what you were doing, or stay with us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”