https://archiveofourown.org/works/63610357
“And then the next moment, he’s suddenly, blindingly awake.
Or at least, that’s what it feels like. A passing glance at the alarm clock shows it’s somewhere around 4 AM, but for the first split second of consciousness, he’s too disoriented to process the time. Jon woke them both up with a short, sharp, startled cry before he dissolved immediately into tears. Elias catches a glimmer of green and crimson as he turns, spectral eyes opening all around Jon and buzzing in response to his fear. Then they disappear just as fast. Elias sits up, still blinking blearily. He finds Jon curled on his side next to him, nearly smothering himself with the pillow from how hard he clutches it to his face. Oh. That makes sense. Blocking his senses to stop Beholding from slipping out through him in a moment of vulnerability.
Elias turns over, reaches, hesitates, then rests his fingertips ever-so-gently on Jon’s bent back. When this doesn’t elicit any reaction besides a brief hitch in the sobs, he smooths his hand up and down Jon’s spine in long, careful sweeps. He vaguely remembers his wet nurse doing this for him as a child. This is comforting, right?
“Ssshhhh… it’s okay, Jon. Everything’s alright,” he murmurs in the dark, his voice husky with sleep. “You’re safe. Can you take a deep breath for me?”
A pause, and then Jon obeys, his chest shuddering with the strain of sucking air through the silk pillowcase.
“Good. Good job. Another, please.”
A few more, and Elias convinces Jon to remove the pillow from his face so he can breathe more easily. He sees why Jon needs it, though. His eyes are pinned wide and unblinking with terror, glowing that unnatural shade of green they both know so well. The moment he can see again, the Eyes appear in the air all around him like a hungry swarm. It’s unclear whether they’re here to defend Jon from the perceived threat, or to feed on him.
It’s not often that Elias pushes any feedback into his link with Beholding, aside from the fear it feeds on and the pleasure he takes from it. He considers himself an instrument of his God: to speak back to it is as offensive as it is futile. But tonight, for Jon’s sake, he tries. He opens his own Eye — a single spectral visage glowing from the center of his forehead like the jewel of some terrible crown — and turns it away, across town to the nightmares of some other unfortunate soul. While he does this, he slips in behind Jon and folds his hand over the Archivist’s eyes. There’s a momentary but intense burn of static against his skin, Beholding displeased to be cut off from its Archivist and punishing him for daring to defy it. But he reminds it of its victim elsewhere and diverts its attention as best he can.
Almost instantly, Jon calms. A few more breaths and Elias feels the faint flutter of eyelashes against his palm as Jon finally regains the ability to close his own eyes. His sobbing turns from scared to relieved as he grips Elias’s wrist with one shaking hand, clutching tight as if begging him not to take it away.
So, Elias doesn’t. He crosses the remainder of the space between them, slips his other arm underneath Jon, and tucks the smaller man against his chest to make the angle easier on them both. But he keeps his hand sealed around Jon’s eyes despite the itch of tears drying on his hand. “You’re okay,” he murmurs into the Archivist’s hair. “You’re safe, Jon. All is well.”
It takes a few more minutes of soothing before Jon believes him. But he relaxes by degrees in Elias’s arms, until at last, sleep claims him again.
Meanwhile, Elias lays awake until dawn.
I did this terrible thing to him.
He knew this logically. He did it on purpose. He spent years planning it. But to understand the consequences of his actions in the abstract is so, so different from seeing and feeling them now.”
[Excerpt from Chapter 3 of my JonElias fic, Villain and Violent (Infant and Innocent)]
