2021-07-19 23:03:03 ¶ ●

# My dear Jonathan…

Written for @jonahmagnusweek

Day 1 - Letters

It has been years since Jonathan Fanshawe cut all the contact with Jonah Magnus.

Read on AO3

…

Jonathan Fanshawe has never given much thought to his future. There hasn’t been any reason to dwell on it too much; anything can happen any time, there is no point to plan anything; no one can predict what will come. Besides he usually has had much more important things to focus on! There have been so many things he wanted to figure out and discover. There has been his hubris telling him he will be able to. Of course he hasn’t had time to concern himself with his future.

That being said though he never imagined he would end up as a local doctor in small village in the middle of Switzerland. But well… anything did happen indeed.

It has been years since he cut any contact with Jonah Magnus. It has also been years since he left England and if he said he is not missing London he would be lying. But it isn’t that bad. His life now is much more… peaceful. Also more frugal. But that is fine. He can be actually helping people instead of chasing his own ambition. He can do some good for a change.

“Good evening, doctor!” as soon as he enters through the doors his housekeeper Frieda welcomes him. She is a widow and even though she’s somewhere in her sixties she is always full of energy no matter if she is cleaning the house or informing him about newest gossips in all the nearby villages.

“Evening, Frieda.” He gives her a tired smile and hangs his coat on a hanger expecting flow of questions. She could never stay quiet for too long; no matter what is the topic she has something to say. In the past these kinds of people used to annoy Jonathan but now no matter how exhausting it can be he prefers it over the alternative of being trapped in silence only with his own thoughts.

“How was your day? The autumn is almost here. There is always much more sick people when the summer ends. We are lucky to have you. You were visiting that Butcher’s kid today right? How is he doing?”

“Hm? Yes, yes… The fever is almost gone. Few more days and Wilhelm will be back on his feet.”

Fanshawe has been living here for almost three years now. He had to deal at first with lots of hostile looks but they quickly changed to more accepting ones as soon as people learnt he is a doctor. Then they changed to fully welcoming when they realized he is a real and actually good doctor who can do more than just offer to people some herb tea. And so no one bothered to ask him too many questions what exactly made him leave all the comforts of London and move in remote village in foreign country.

“You look tired. Go get some rest I will start making dinner. I’ve prepared the fireplace for you it was quite chilly in your room. The autumn really is here isn’t it? As I said more people will start getting sick soon. It is always like that when autumn arrives…”

“Call me when it’s ready.” He might maybe spend the evening by reading next to lit fire place. Maybe he will even pour himself a glass of… well he isn’t sure what kind of alcohol it was exactly, he got it as a gift from one of his patient as a thank you. But it doesn’t taste the worst and he could not exactly be picky here.

“Oh also I would almost forget, a letter for you arrived today. Isn’t it strange, doctor? I don’t remember that you would ever get any.” It is indeed… unusual. There is a seed of worry starting to grow inside him. He doesn’t receive letters very often. He is doctor after all so when someone needs him it is usually way too urgent to wait for post to deliver message since they usually come by only once every two weeks. Still it doesn’t have to mean… “Do you have any idea who might write you? It looks rather fancy it is even in an envelope!”

Jonathan feels a horrible feeling of dread washing over him. “Yes… I mean no. I have no idea. Where is the letter, Frieda?”

“I left it on your table-…”

“Thank you. That is all I… Good night,”

“There will still be a dinner, doctor!” Fanshawe barely registers her words. He rushes into his room. Since Frieda keeps whole house very neat it takes him only few second it find a single letter lying on his writing table. He doesn’t know how long he only stares at it before he finally dares to pick it up.

The space for sender’s address is empty but Jonathan doesn’t need it to know who exactly has sent it to him. Even without the extravagant envelope; even without the seal with the owl imaginary; even if he couldn’t recognize the handwriting he still knows painfully well; there is only one person who could.

It has been years since he cut any contact with Jonah Magnus.

Unfortunately Jonah Magnus still hasn’t decided to cut a contact with him.

When he return from his… “trip” to Germany he was welcomed at his house in London by series of letters from Jonah questioning his decision. And they haven’t stopped coming. After a consideration Jonathan decided to move away, afraid Jonah might eventually try to reach out to him personally. ‘It is just because he doesn’t want to have anything to do with him,’ he was telling himself at first. ‘He has no reason to be afraid. What could Jonah do to him after all?’

The answer on his question was waiting at him every night in his nightmares which were full of eyes. Sometimes they are just floating in nothingness. Sometimes they are staring at him from Albrecht’s dead body. And sometimes he sees himself and he is the one covered in eyes.

After thinking about some of their past conversations and after looking at some of their past correspondence he started to notice lots of double meanings he chose to overlook at the time but which he can ignore no longer. Also what was the name of Jonah’s ‘dear friend’ who so mysteriously disappeared few years ago? Barnabas? There is no doubt something is very wrong with Jonah Magnus. And one should rather get out of his way before they find themselves standing in the middle of it.

He thought simply moving to a different city will solve his issue. He found out he has thought wrong since just as he is settled another letter from Jonah Magnus arrives. Jonathan was more annoyed than worried. At this point he assumed Jonah obtained the address through some acquaintances; he seemed to have some everywhere. And so Fanshawe thought that maybe staying abroad for year or two might solve his problem. He returned to Kingdom of Württemberg but then he very quickly moved to Baden. Then to Nassau, several parts of Saxony, Luxembourg, Hanover and many others German countries.

But the letters never stopped coming. Sometimes he received letters only weeks apart. Sometimes it took months. Now it has been the longest time since the last one. He really hoped that he managed to disappear from his sight. Or that at least Jonah got finally tired and decided to stop bothering him.

As many times before he is wrong. The letter in his hand is proof of that.

He should just throw it out. Destroy it. But he needs to know – it would later bother him too much – he needs to see for himself if there will be some threats. Requests. Curses.

He opens the letter.

My dear Jonathan,

It has been a while since my last letter and I would like to apologize that I haven’t find a time to write to you any sooner but I have been very busy with my Institute lately. I have finally found a perfect place where could I relocate my institute I think that I mentioned my intentions to do so in the past somewhere in our correspondence. I must admit that I might have helped it a bit by…

Jonathan tears the paper in half.

There are no mean spirited words no laughs at him for thinking he might be safe. No. There is just politeness the words written as if they were intended for an old friend. Just mundane information about his everyday life Jonathan couldn’t be less interested in. He doesn’t want to know any of this. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with Jonah Magnus and his damned institute.

He tears the letter again. And again. And then once more. Only as he is throwing the scraps of paper in the fireplace he notices how much are his hands shaking. His heart is beating fast and the feeling of dread is swallowing him whole. Defeated, he sits down on a chair by the fire.

He feels so silly now. How could he think he can ever escape him? How could he think he is able to get rid of him?

The content of the letters really isn’t the point. It doesn’t matter whether Jonathan reads them or not because they already fulfill their purpose by just successfully reaching their destination. All Jonah wants is to remind Fanshawe from time to time that no matter where he moved no matter where he tried to hide he still knows his exact position. He isn’t about to hurt him. But he wants Jonathan to know that he could if he wanted. He is still at his mercy.

Jonathan should be probably angry. Enraged. But he cannot. He can no longer even bring himself to feel spite for what happened to Albrecht and for what probably happened to so many other people surrounding Jonah Magnus; for all the evil Jonathan unknowingly helped him to spread. He is only exhausted. He only wishes for it to finally end…

But it never will, will it? He should finally accept that there will always be a next letter. But living the rest of his life in state of constant paranoia seemed like fair prize to pay for his sins.