#kotrw

(there might be a little bit of Jonmartin ahead - specifically with Lonely Martin)

Part 1

They are coming. 

Elias sighed massaging his temples. 

They are coming.

Ambiguous. Cryptic. Random. That is how Elias would describe knowledge that was recently forced into his brain by the Eye. He needed a break, but Beholding did not offer breaks. 

They are 

“Coming I know.” He hissed exhausted. “Something useful?” He closed the door to his apartment, throwing his coat on the armchair. 

The Archivist. 

They are coming.

Elias dropped his keys and froze in place, he closed his eyes looking for Jon in panic. No, he should be in a coma. He should be sleeping and if he was awake Elias should have known about it immediately. A sharp pang of pain rushed through his skull forcing him to open his eyes. He blinked confused. He couldn't see him, he was… denied knowledge? He took a deep breath steadying himself by leaning on the armchair. 

The Archivist. They are coming. They need to know. They will know.

Elias tried again and winced, feeling the gaze of his patron on himself. He took a deep breath. He couldn’t see Jon but he was coming and he needed to know. Elias swore, his legs suddenly significantly weaker. He wanted to close his eyes and met resistance. 

You will answer. You will watch. 

Elias should have foreseen that it will come to this. He should have been prepared. Left quicker, maybe spent some time on Tundra, annoying Peter. Lock himself up in prison or at least somewhere where Jon wouldn't be able to find him. But it was too late for that. Much too late. Jon was on his way and there was no point in running, he would find him anywhere. 

Elias slowly unlocked the door. 

His hand shook and he leaned on the wall. He still could try running. 

No. They will catch you. The eye supplied. They are hungry. 

Elias stumbled to the couch and sat up straight, placing his hands on his knees. He wanted to close his eyes again but Beholding stopped him sending a stinging pain through his skull. He must see. He must watch. He must answer. 

Elias took a deep breath clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms. He breathed out trying to compose himself, but his heart only sped up, hammering in his chest, he bit his lip. 

"Please." He whispered but kept his eyes open. He felt the presence of his patron so closely as he never felt before and it was as thrilling as terrifying. "Don't let him in." 

You unlocked the door. 

Elias heard Jon before he saw him. And when he saw him he knew he was doomed. He forced himself to stay on the couch while the Archivist approached. Elias pressed himself into the couch. He felt exposed, he laughed quietly. How wonderful, Jon was truly a sight to behold now. His Archivist. Elias sighed when Jon approached him, his shoulders shook violently. Jon grabbed his jaw forcing him to look him in the eyes. Elias drew a sharp breath grabbing a pillow from the couch. Just to hold on to something, to not get completely lost in Jon’s eyes. 

"Elias,” Jon whispered. “Are you scared?" The compulsion pulled at his mind and Elias whimpered helplessly.

"Yes." he breathed out. The Archivist tilted their head. Their eyes not leaving Elias' face even for a second. 

"Perfect." They let go off his jaw and dragged a chair placing it in front of Elias. "Sit straight." They ordered. 

Elias found himself sitting up, his limbs  arranged properly, his back straight and his chin up forcing him to look at Jon. "You will answer my questions."

"I will." Elias whispered. It was said with as much resignation as devotion. He knew there was no point in  resisting, no point in pretending he could run or try to deny Jon knowledge that the Archivist wanted. Everything Elias knew was Jon's to take. 

"Statement of Jonah Magnus." Elias shivered "Regarding his time as an Eye avatar. Statement taken directly from the subject" Jon spoke. 

"Statement begins." Elias mouthed before the compulsion pulled at his mind. It pulled and pulled, until nothing was left hidden, until nothing was left unspoken. All his secrets laid out, neat and sorted, everything said outloud and catalogued by his Archivist. When the compulsion snapped Elias realized his face was wet. Was he crying? He shuddered and looked around. Not recognizing his own flat. He sobbed quietly and smiled. 

“Oh Archivist.” Elias whispered, he felt... He sniffed, whipping off his cheeks. Hollow was not really the right word to describe it. He felt far from hollow. 

"How do you feel?" Jon needed to know. Elias chuckled, not really amused. 

"I- Hm..." Elias stopped looking for the right words. 

"How do you feel, Elias?" Jon compelled him. Elias sighed, falling back on the net of compulsion, letting it work. 

"Seen. So wonderfully seen." He whispered and laughed, rubbing his face with the back of his hand "Thank you Jon." Admiration in his eyes made Jon pull back. "Thank you." he mumbled. 

His hands still shaking, he stood up slowly, supporting himself on furniture as he went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. Jon followed. Elias leaned on the counter drinking water. Jon stood in the middle of the kitchen looking at him. 

Elias still felt him inside his head, sorting out information, looking through him like through a book, he shivered and chugged a whole glass of water. 

"It's Peter Lukas' flat." The Archivist stated.

Elias shook his head. 

"No. He bought it, but it's mine" His voice was still hoarse, he must have talked for hours. 

Eye informed Jon that Elias believes in what he said. Elias snorted, apparently Beholding gave him the same information. He opened another cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. 

"I am going to the bedroom." He said even though he didn’t have to, Jon would know anyway. Jon followed him. When Elias laid down Jon sat down next to him, his eyes never leaving Elias. Elias laid back drinking wine straight from the bottle, ignoring Jon. 

Jon fully regained consciousness somewhere at one am. He stood up abruptly looking at sleeping Elias and an empty bottle of wine on the bed. His head filled with knowledge he didn't have before. His eyes strained and head was pounding with pain. He started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt looking at the men he... He... 

Jon breathed out, he wanted to run at the first instinct but then the eye stopped him. Telling him Elias was alright. Telling him that deep down Jonah Magnus wanted to be seen and known. And that he likes cakes. Jon blinked. 

"Hell. I don't know how to bake" he muttered and immediately his head was filled with recipes.

He sighed, well he won't be able to sleep anyway. 

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6

“Where's…. Where's Elias?” Jon entered the kitchen looking at Peter who was preparing breakfast. 

“Aren't you omniscient?”

“I am trying to not know things around you. It's a courtesy Peter. Don't be difficult.”

Peter sighed and turned around giving him a plate with food. 

“In the bed. Bring him breakfast.” 

“Is he alright? He is usually up before 8.”

“He is all right.” Peter handed him a cup of coffee. “Off you go archivist. I want to eat alone.” Jon rolled his eyes but left the kitchen. When he entered Elias’ room Elias just left the bathroom. Jon froze staring at him. 

“Very nice er… robe. I… Peter. I mean Peter told me to bring you breakfast.”

“Thank you.” Elias smiled, getting back on the bed and taking a plate from Jon. Jon sat down next to him. 

“You overslept?” Jon put coffee on the cupboard. 

“No. I was awake since 7 but didn't feel particularly motivated to get out of bed.” Elias smiled amused. 

“Oh. Did you feel bad?”

Elias raised his eyebrow looking at Jon and chuckled. 

“No. I feel good, Jon. I spent a really nice evening with my husband yesterday. We went to sleep late.” Elias glanced at Jon. 

“What did you do?” Jon asked. “I know what Peter's definition of a nice evening is. Ship documentary. But it's surely not yours.”

“I am not sure you want to hear about the details, Jon.” Elias smiled amused. 

“Why? Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Right. It took me embarrassingly long.”

“Don't worry. I am used to it. Peter needs to have everything spelled out for him.”

“Yeah um… should I go or…?”

“If that's what you want. But you can also stay and have breakfast with me… I would like that.”

“Isn't it.. weird? I mean your husband is downstairs and you two were…and…”

“Peter won’t be coming back.” 

Jon snorted. 

“He is of the Lonely Jon.” 

“Doesn’t mean he has to be an asshole.” 

“He will probably isolate himself for the rest of the day and I would appreciate company so… I think the only question that matters is: Do you want to stay?”

Jon nodded slowly. 

“Yeah…”

Elias smiled. 

“Good.” He said and started eating. Jon sighed not really knowing what to do with his hands. Finally he decided to sit closer to Elias and watche him eat. He didn't seem to mind. When the plate was almost empty Elias placed it on the cupboard and took his coffee. He leaned on Jon and smiled when Jon slipped his arm under his back. “Did you sleep well?” 

Jon sighed. 

“I am not sure what that means anymore. I slept.” He glanced at Elias and frowned looking at his wrists. Jon carefully grabbed one of his hands to look closer. There were red burns around his wrists. 

“It's nothing Jon. It's from the… “

“Rope.” Jon finished letting him go. “ I know. It shouldn't look as red. Do you have a first aid-kit?”

Elias smiled amused. 

“In the bathroom.” Jon stood up and left the room to grab it. He carefully disinfected burns on Elias’ wrists and dressed one of them that was looking worse. “Am I going to be okay, doctor Sims?” 

Jon snorted.

“There is no need to mock me, Elias”

“I am not mocking you. Thank you, Jon.” 

Jon nodded slowly and sat down on the bed next to him. 

“Sleep some more and you should be fine. It's a doctor's order.” Elias smiled amused and laid down. 

“If you say so. Jon…”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Jon blinked, taken by surprise he nodded slowly. Elias pressed his lips to his, Jon smiled. 

“Get some sleep, Elias.” he whispered into his lips. Elias blinked. 

“Oh that's… “ his head was suddenly too heavy to keep it up and his eyelids closed by themselves he fell asleep in Jon’s arms. Jon was looking at him in shock, he swallowed and slowly put Elias down on the bed. He took a deep breath. Well at least Elias will rest. Jon left, closing the door quietly. 

A few hours later Jon stormed into the kitchen and threw green silk rope at Peter. Lukas blink confused. 

“Ship yard rope is not an appropriate rope to tie someone Peter. Unless you want to kidnap them.”

“I am sorry. What?”

“Did you even see his wrists? That's unacceptable.”

“Who's… oh… Elias. Well he doesn't care so…”

“Oh but I care.”

“He likes the rope. He doesn't mind it.”

“He will surely mind infected burns when he gets them from that thing. You can't just grab whatever rope is laying around the deck, Peter.”

“I am not discussing my sex life with you.”

“Oh we are not discussing anything, Peter. You are doing it in a safe way or at all.”

Pete snorted. 

“Fine by me. Who tells Elias?” 

“Wait. What?” Jon blinked. 

“I indulge him because he enjoys it. It's not something I can't live without.”

“Oh. Oh wait really? So you are… you don't like it?”

“It's enjoyable. But nothing special. And definitely too much work for the mediocre outcome but Elias likes it.”

“Huh… right. Like a chore right?” Jon offered with a half hopeful smile. 

“God yes.” Peter huffed. “This man is already too much work.”

Jon frowned. 

“Does he know that you…”

“Of course. I am not an idiot, Sims.” He rolled his eyes “ Fine. Give me that.” He grabbed the rope. “And stop tormenting me. Go look for yourself in another room.”

“Sure.” Jon smiled. Somehow he couldn't stop smiling. “Oh wait…is Elias still asleep?”

“Yes. That's odd.”

“I.. sort of compelled him to sleep…”

Peter stared at him in silence and then he looked at the rope.

“Where did you get this?”

“Um…” Jon blink “There is a shop that sells this sort of stuff nearby. Twenty minutes… why?”

Peter hummed. 

“Do they sell muzzles? Or what are they called? Ah. Gags maybe? I am interested in buying one.” He said looking at Jon pointedly. “Or both. Just a precaution.”

“I will wake him up.” Jon said alarmed and quickly turned around to leave the room.

“You better!”

(I hope you don't mind the lack of actual plot, as this contains like 98% of just shenanigans and fun.)

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7 | Part 8 |Part 9| Part 10 |Part 11 |Part 12| Part 13| Part 14| Part 15 |Part 16| Part 17|Part 18

(this is the last part! Thank you for reading!)

Jon took a deep breath looking around the Panopticon. 

“Right. What now?” He looked back at Elias. Elias raised his eyebrow. “What?” 

“You don’t know.” he realized. 

“I… I don’t” Jon chuckled nervously. “Well, this is embarrassing. I don’t know.” He bit his lip and sighed, his shoulders dropped. 

Elias smiled and took his hand, leading him to the center of the Panopticon. 

“Well then…” he smiled, placing a kiss in the corner of Jon’s lips. “You who watch and know and understand none.” he whispered and Jon took a shallow breath. He licked his lips. 

“You who watch and know and understand none. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.” Jon breathed out supporting himself on Elias’ shoulder. The words flew freely now, filling him, making him whole. Every word, every sentence bringing him more clarity. He lost support in Elias’ shoulder and he realized that the man is kneeling now next to him, his head pressed into Jon’s side. Jon’s voice stuck and Elias slowly glanced up at him, his face was wet. Jon shivered when he kissed his wrist. 

“Go on. Please. Jon.” 

Jon nodded slowly composing himself. Come to us in your wholeness. Come to us in your perfection. The words appeared in his head and Jon swallowed, afraid to open his mouth again. Elias bowed his head again waiting in silence. Jon discovered he was unable to close his eyes, forced to watch. Will it always be that way now? Come to us in your wholeness. Echoed in his head. He shivered and slowly fell down on his knees covering his face. He felt Elias’ hands on his cheeks. 

“Jon. You know the words.” 

Jon nodded but didn’t look at him, couldn't, he opened his mouth to say how scared he is… how so very afraid, instead the incantation flowed again. He felt a look of a thousand eyes and the last time he comprehended Elias’ lips on his. 

-*-*-

“He looks dead.” 

“He’s not.” Elias said sharply “Don’t you have a domain to tend to? You infuriating man?”

Peter snorted. 

“Tend to? What am I supposed to do? They are there, and they are alone. Not much work to be done about it, right? I am sorry for not partaking in your little zoo, Elias, but it’s awful enough with that disgusting eyeball up the sky I don’t…” 

“Watch your words.” Jon hissed, not entirely of his own violation. Peter froze and Elias quickly appeared at Jon’ side.

“Jon. How do you feel?” 

“Good.” Jon smiled. His voice carried an odd edge to it, powerful and he really felt good. More alive than he ever felt. “Peter Lukas, what are you doing here?” 

Peter became almost entirely transparent but his fog quickly fell down, he winced and stepped back. Jon was looking at him. Waiting. Elias glanced at Peter, feeling maybe a pity for his dear husband. He felt Jon’s eyes on him. He felt all eyes on him and quickly shook his head smiling. “Answer.” 

Peter huffed.

“I don’t know! Alright? I don’t know. I was more than content to sit around on the Tundra in the fog, or whatever Lonely enclosure your evil eye prepared at least it’s still somehow Lonely. But, it’s not, it’s not the same anymore, It’s not really lonely, it’s not what it used to be and I came here…” Peter stopped. 

“Looking for the only thing that was still somewhat familiar.” Jon finished looking at Elias now. “ How dreadfully sentimental of you, Peter.” 

“Indeed.” Elias said, watching Peter. Lukas huffed looking at the wall. He pulled back when he felt Elias’ hands on him and Elias didn’t let him. He placed a kiss on his lips and grinned. Peter rolled his eyes knowing what’s about to come. “I won.” Elias whispered amused. “I won.” he repeated and Peter pushed him away. 

Jon was sitting on the bed now looking at them. His head filled with quiet whispers, and muted screams, with terror and tales of blood and death. He smiled and looked around the room, or rather a construct of a room, their room, Elias’ room. Jon didn’t have to walk out of there to know they are still in the Panopticon. He stood up and the room slowly shifted and changed, Jon thought about the Institute and soon they were standing in Elias' office. Elias looked around surprised and laughed looking back at Jon.

Jon smiled, he felt infinite. Endless. As if everything here and out there, everything to the horizon and beyond was only an extension of himself. He swallowed, taking a deep breath. 

The world was drowning in fear but he wasn’t afraid anymore. 

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7 | Part 8 |Part 9| Part 10

Dirt. Dirt in his mouth, dirt under his nails, dirt in his eyes. Pressing him down, filling his lungs slowly, without rush. Jon wanted to scream, but only more dirt entered his mouth. He tried to move, but the pressure was too heavy. Breathing was a challenge, but somehow Jon knew he was not going to die, no. He will stay here. Forever. In the dirt. Unable to move. Blind until the end of the world. 

Elias rushed through the archives office door. 

“Where's Jon?”

“Following up on a statement. He said something about the cemetery?”

“Which one?”

“I don't know. You are the know-all here.”

He cursed and walked out, putting on his jacket. He found Jon in the fifth cemetery at the outskirts of the city. The fresh grave right in the middle. Elias knew getting him out of there would require hours of digging, and he was not looking forward to it. Indulging the Buried, he grimaced. 

“Jon!”

The only answer he got was silence, until sharp pain flashed behind his eyes and he saw black grainy dirt and felt a dull rush of panic. He quickly looked around and grabbed a shovel. There was no other choice than to dig. And dig. And dig. And dig. 

Elias sat on the edge of the hole, catching a breath. His ears were ringing from exhaustion. His suit was utterly ruined. He was clutching the shovel, staring into nothing. Suddenly someone ripped the shovel out of his hands and resumed digging. Elias blinked, and the fog started pooling around him.

“Peter?” He squinted, but no. It wasn't Peter. ”Martin.” Elias realized, he slowly slid down into the hole to stand next to Martin. Martin didn't answer. “Martin. Fancy seeing you here.”

“How deep?”

“What?”

“How deep is he?”

“At least two meters more.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” 

“You took the shovel…”

“Too proud to get your hands dirty?” It was the last thing Elias heard from Martin. He started digging in silence, and Elias stood there looking at him in disbelief. He looked down at the ground, swallowed, and started to dig with his hands. Beholding laughed in his head. He didn't realize when Martin disappeared, but it didn't matter because he could see Jon's hand. He slowly dug him out fully and helped him sit up. Jon spat out dirt. He was trembling. 

“E...Elias?” Elias sighed in relief and pulled him to his chest, hugging him. He glanced at his hands, ruined and bloody, with broken nails and dirt everywhere. He slowly wiped off some dirt from Jon’s cheek. Jon was still clearly out of it. Lost in himself. Eyes wide open and terrified.

Elias took him home and, against his better judgment, left him under Peter's care, he changed and got back to the Institute. Leaving archival assistants alone there was not a great idea and Elias didn't want to risk another reorganization.

When he went back into the house in the evening; he sighed, looking at the table. There was a half-glued model of a ship there and hundreds of parts around it. Peter was sorting them, and Jon was occupied by gluing something. He was sitting on the floor covered by two heavy blankets. He was pale and quiet but calm.

“I knew leaving you two together would be a bad idea.” Elias said.

“This is SS Great Eastern. It's one of the largest steamships. Powered by a sidewheel and screw propeller. It was able to carry around 4000 passengers from England to Australia without a need to refuel. Five funnels, six masts, and four steam engines. It laid the first transatlantic telegraph cable and was able to pick up a speed of up to 14 knots, which is around twenty-six kilometers per hour. “ The Archivist recited.

Peter chuckled, amused, seeing Elias’ face. 

“Seriously, Jon? Ships?”

“I was bored.” Jon shrugged. Bored and so so tired. He needed to take his mind off the dirt, off cementaries, graves and sink holes. He needed something to distract himself from this overpowering need to crawl into earth in the garden. He needed something to stop him from digging.

“You infected him,” Elias hissed, looking at Peter. 

“He came over and suddenly knew everything about model kits and ships.” Peter shrugged. “I was not happy about it. I prefer to work alone.” He glared at Jon. 

“That may be true, but you were content when I managed to glue the mast that you failed to glue five times in a row.”

“I didn't say you are useless.”

“Ah. Thank you, Peter. Anytime.” 

Lukas snorted, and Elias shook his head in resignation. 

“What's for dinner?”

“Whatever you will make, dear.” Peter hummed. Elias rolled his eyes. Of course. 

“I am ordering from Ritz!” He huffed. Jon frowned. 

“They do not offer deliveries…”

Peter sighed resignedly. 

“It has never stopped him before.” 

Jon nodded and got back to gluing ship parts. It was oddly calming. Soon he heard Elias’ voice from the kitchen. 

“Oh, I promise you are offering deliveries. What's your name? Ah, Matt. I am Elias. Elias Bouchard. Do I have to remind you what happened to your younger brother on March 15th? Oh, I just know. Do you want to know what happened after that…? Can you still hear his screams? Do you ever wonder how he felt at that moment? It must be hard to live with the look on his face imprinted into your mind. Do you hear him begging you for help, asking why? Was it worth it, Matt? Was your pathetic, useless, empty life worth sacrificing the only person that has ever truly loved you? ... Ah. What about my dinner? Shall I continue? Hm. I thought so. You know the address; I will pay by card. Do not forget wine.” Elias yawned, ending the call. “They will never learn. I will take a shower. Jon, pick the food, will you? Peter will give you his card.” He left them. Jon was looking after him and then glanced at Peter, whose only response was placing his card on the table. 

“Did you ever say 'no' to him?”

“What do you think, Sims? Would I be sitting on a floor assembling a ship model kit? Would I call this place our flat, or would I wear a ring with an eye symbol if I had ever said no?” 

“But why?” Peter glanced at him above the ship model and shrugged. “And… and how? He told me about Lukas’. Didn't one of you literally die when he got married?” 

Peter nodded. 

“Heart conditions run in the family. I am tired of your questions.” Jon blinked, and Peter vanished.

When Elias returned to the saloon. The food was on the table with a bottle of wine. Jon was sitting on the armchair. 

“I… I… I couldn't… “ 

Elias opened the ajar door. Behind them the delivery man was sitting on the ground crying hysterically. Elias glanced around. 

“Peter, dear? Care for a…” He turned around and bumped into Peter, who was materializing behind him. 

“Snack? Always.” Lukas smiled. Elias kissed him amused and left the man with his husband. Soon he will stop being a problem. 

“Jon. Did you enjoy yourself?” 

“I am sorry. I…”

“Jon. I don't care about that man. I sincerely hope you had a fulfilling meal.”

Jon blinked, looking at him. Tears began falling down his face, and Jon started laughing. 

“Oh dear.” Elias poured himself some wine. Peter appeared next to him. 

“Your Archivist went mad?”

“He is just overwhelmed. Be useful for once.” 

Peter rolled his eyes but nodded after a minute. Suddenly fog filled the room. Jon shivered but calmed down a bit, his head was… quiet. And reality seemed somehow blurry. He slowly inhaled the fog, looking around. He never felt so calm, no not calm, apathetic. But it was so silent, so incredibly silent. Suddenly everything was back to normal, fog fell down. 

“What… What was that?” His mind still didn't get back to normal. It was odd. To not know. 

“Our powers cancel themselves.” Elias said. ” If we are… not fighting against each other, they will do no harm. But the fog has… quite the calming effect for some people.”

“Yeah…” Jon nodded. “That… makes sense. Um… Thank you, I guess.” He glanced at Peter. He took a deep breath. 

“Let’s eat.” Elias sat down. 

Peter picked up his box and went upstairs without a word. “Don't make a mess!”

“It's my flat! I will do whatever I want!”

Elias chuckled and picked his box. Jon looked at his food. 

“Something’s wrong? I am sure you will like it, Jon.”

“I would… it's just…”

“Yes?”

“Everything tastes bland since I woke up… from the coma, I mean.” He cleared his throat. “I… I don't think eating food serves any purpose for me anymore. I don't feel particularly hungry in an… normal way.”

Elias nodded, grabbing his glass. Jon stared at Elias' hands. Still very much ruined, bandaged with medical tape.

“Thank you.” He said quietly. “I should have warned you that I am going out.”

“You are an adult, Jon. You don't need to report to me… but I would appreciate a heads-up.”

“I -I am marked. Right? I… I can feel it. There is something wrong. I… wanted to get back there. Underground. “ He pulled the blanket. around himself. Elias sighed, stood up and approached the cabinet, and he took something out of it. It looked like a warm blanket, but when Elias placed it on Jon’s lap, he felt the weight of it and almost gasped. He quickly covered himself with the weighted blanket. He glanced curiously at Elias, but he didn't offer an explanation and just started eating his dinner.

“A weighted blanket.” Jon said. 

“Indeed.” Elias smiled, still not answering the unasked question. Jon fell silent, but he couldn't contain himself.

“Why?” 

“Why, what, Jon?”

The archivist huffed, annoyed. 

“Why do you have a weighted blanket?”

Elias was silent for a long minute. 

“I enjoy it sometimes.”

Elias was avoiding his question. The Archivist sneered displeased. Elias sighed, taking another sip of wine. 

“It helped with the confusion after swapping a body.” He offered. Jon tilted his head; it was the truth but not the whole truth. Jon was breathing slowly, staring at eating Elias. He tried not to push, but it was screaming in him, it was almost physically painful not to push. Elias observed him with fascination, and before Jon could ask another question laced with compulsion, he answered. 

“It makes me feel less… lonely. When Peter is not around.” 

Jon huffed and grabbed his take out box, furiously, just to hold something. The unasked question hung between them but the answer was already given. The Archivist bit his cheek frustrated glaring at Elias annoyed. Elias chuckled. 

“That was rude, Elias. Rude,” Jon sighed, opening the box and staring at the food. The blanket was nice. The weight on his shoulder felt calming and satisfied the buried screaming in him. "Was... Martin there?" He asked. "I... I think I felt him but..."

"He was. He helped with digging you out."

"Was he..." Jon sighed "Lonely?"

Elias nodded slowly.

"Very much so. I am sorry Jon."

"Oh you are not. You couldn't care less about him. You would probably rather see him dead."

Elias snorted amused.

"It's mutual." He took a sip of his wine. "Don't feel guilty about it, Archivist. He chose it for himself, you know that."

Jon did. But he couldn't stop blaming himself, deep down he knew it was his fault. That he was the last push Martin needed, maybe if not him, if not his becoming, Martin wouldn't end up in the fog. And was it really a choice? Was Jon ever had a choice or was he chosen. He glared at Elias.

“Why did you chose me, Elias?”

“I didn't." Elias didn't bother resisting. "The Web did. And I played along. But spiders always weave. You can't stop it.”

“I am not a puppet.” Jon snarled, and he grimaced because it was not entirely true, and the Eye informed him about it. He sighed, “I... don't want to be. I won't be a puppet.”

Elias watched him for a moment and sighed, pouring himself more wine. He poured another glass and passed it to Jon. 

“And I won't die.” He raised his glass, smiling at Jon. Jon clinked the glasses, and they drank. 

For wishful thinking and lies that we tell ourselves when it's too dark for hope. 

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7 | Part 8 |Part 9| Part 10 |Part 11 |Part 12| Part 13| Part 14| Part 15 |Part 16

(I think we have around two or three parts left)

When Jon woke up, he found Elias on the balcony. He was smoking and Jon felt something was off. Something was different. He stood up and went out. 

“Elias?... Where's Peter?”

“Gone of course.” Elias said quietly. “Should have foreseen that really. I always miss it.” He snorted and shook his head. 

Gone. 

Jon felt fog curling in his chest. 

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7 | Part 8 |Part 9| Part 10 |Part 11

“How is it?" Elias put on his eye earring, looking at Jon. The suit was a perfect fit. Deep burgundy shade. Jon opened his mouth and closed it immediately, watching himself in the mirror. The suit was a perfect fit. Jon was sure about it. Elias had well… a good eye. Jon fixed the sleeves and sighed quietly. Maybe he was the problem here? He shrugged. 

“It's alright.” 

Elias hummed and smiled to himself, amused. 

“That's what I thought. Give me a moment.” Jon blinked, confused. “I have a surprise!” Elias said, leaving the bedroom. 

“What? How?” Jon frowned. Elias can't have a surprise. It's not possible. Jon would know. 

“Oh, you were distracted!” Elias laughed. He got back fairly quickly with a box. “Stop pouting, Jon. I have a gift.” Jon glared at the box. “Open it. I will be waiting in the car.” 

Elias left him. Jon stared at the box like it was about to bite him. He slowly took off the lid, and knowledge of what's inside hit him. He froze. 

“Oh. Oh, you didn't.” He ripped the green paper and stared at the neatly folded long green skirt. “You didn't.” 

He slowly took it out and laid it on the bed. It has a lighter green embroidery of the eyes along the hem. Jon forgot how to breathe. 

Elias did wait in the car. Jon entered and sat down. He glared at Elias. 

“Don't look so smug about it.” 

“You look splendid, Jon.” 

Jon fixed the skirt and shrugged. Was he flustered? 

Yes. 

Beholding answered, and Jon sighed. 

“Thank you, Elias,” he said in the tone of a five-year-old forced to apologize to his sibling. Elias snorted. 

“I have another gift.”

“No, you don’t!” 

“You were distracted with the skirt.” Elias chuckled and gave him another much smaller box. Jon stared at it, he sighed and opened it slowly. There was an eye pendant inside. He frowned. 

“I know you can see from it, Elias.” 

“I want to have an eye on you. Come on, Jon. It belonged to Jonah Magnus.”

Jon snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Really?” 

“If you don't want it, you don’t have to wear it every day. But just tonight. Please?” 

Jon sighed and nodded. 

“Alright.” He put on the necklace around his neck and placed it carefully on his chest. The ride was short. Jon glanced at the number of cars parked around. He sighed suddenly, self-conscious. Elias raised his eyebrow, looking at him. “It's… nothing. Just a… vertigo.” Jon almost growled and got out of the car with a clear purpose. To kill Simon Fairchild. But instead he stood face-to-face with Michael Crew. Jon sneered. 

“Archivist.”

“What do you want?”

“I am…” Michael sighed, “An olive branch? Simon was worried about his life.”

“Maybe he should think of it before destroying my archives.”

“He is ready to reimburse you. He will double his yearly donation for the institute.”

“Will he?” Jon snorted. 

“Yes. He is ready to triple it, really. You scare the shit out of him.” Micheal blurted out and froze. Jon nodded. 

“Good.” He glanced at Elias. Elias smiled amused. 

“How kind of Simon. Is he here tonight?”

Michael shook his head. 

“He sent me. He had something… important to take care of.”

“Oh, we know.” Jon snorted. Elias offered him his arm, and Jon followed him inside. “Coward.”

Elias chuckled. 

“He acted with reasonable caution. Fairchilds are important for us. As important as Lukas’. They are the main funders. And you just got us enough money to renovate the whole building as well as pay half of the staff.”

Jon sighed. 

“I already hate this.” He grabbed a glass of champagne. “Too much noise.” He grimaced. 

“You will learn to filter it out. Focus on my thoughts.” Elias introduced him to the main funders. After half an hour, Jon had only one wish: to be left alone, in silence and darkness. All the noise made him sick. 

“Elias I am hurt. You didn't introduce me to your new pet.” Jon turned around abruptly to see the person who so recklessly compared him to animal. Elias did the same, and they both froze. The man was young, with a self-satisfied smile and a glass of wine in his hand. His eyes were milky white. 

“You were not invited." Elias said quietly. The lights in the room went off for a few seconds. The darkness that took over was overpowering. Jon swallowed, squeezing his glass in both hands, he was barely able to see anything. And he felt the panic that spiked in Elias’ mind. Jonah Magnus was left blind in the darkness. It was just a moment but it was enough to put him on the edge.

“I decided to ignore that sheer disrespect.” the man spat out. “Well…?” The lights turned on. 

“Jon, this is…”

“Maxwell Reynar.” Jon said, looking at the dark avatar. Reynar smiled amused. 

“Ah. You know me, of course. But I don't know you.”

“Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.” Jon said it like a threat. Like title. Like a warning. “You are not welcome here, Maxwell.”

“No? What if I want to donate?” He snorted. 

“Why are you here?” 

To Jon’s surprise, Raynar didn't even try to fight the compulsion. He just shrugged.

“I have a gift for you, Archivist. The gift of Darkness.” Suddenly the world went very bright just to immediately go dark. Pitch black nothing, like if Jon was staring into deep dark water. He trembled, his heart hammering in his chest. He felt Reynar grabbing him, but he couldn't see him. “Simon Fairchild sends his regards.” Maxwell said and let him go. He was gone a moment later.

“E-Elias?” Jon whispered. Elias supported him. 

“Jon. Jon, are you alright?” Jon leaned on him slowly, touching his chest. Making sure Elias is really there. 

“I can't… I… my eyes.” Jon started shaking. “Where are my eyes?” He looked lost. 

“On their place. Jon? What's going on?”

“I can't see. Elias. I can't see. I can't.” Elias grabbed him tighter. “Are the lights still out? Tell me they are out. Please tell me the lights are out.” Jon begged. “Please, I…” 

Elias ended up carrying Jon out of the room to the car. He was hyperventilating, clutching to Elias so hard that he might actually leave some bruises. Elias carefully put him on the back seat and sat down next to him. Jon clung to him immediately. 

“W…wait. we are… in the car?”

“Yes.”

“I can… oh god. Oh thank god. I can see the control lights.” Jon sobbed in relief. Elias breathed out, wrapping his hands around Jon. Jon just flopped on him, still shivering. “Home?...” He asked quietly. "I-I think I will be fine? I... I know I will be. " The eye is not going to leave him blind. He was certain about it.

Elias nodded. He got out of the car and sat behind the wheel. Jon was clutching the eye necklaces Elias gave him earlier. "Is it really that old?” he whispered. Sliding himself into the passenger seat. 

“Yes. I was wearing it at the first donor party for the institute.”

“Paired with a skirt?” Jon asked with a faint smile.

Elias chuckled. 

“No. But I had a corset, deep dark green with eyes embroidered on it with black thread. Custom-made piece, beautifully done, really. I liked the structure.” Jon nodded.

“Can you… Keep talking?”

Elias hummed and started the car.

“I used to wear more jewelry. Like this.” He glanced at the necklaces Jon was wearing. “And others, rings, bracelets, earrings, and chains. Fine clothes. People despised me for it.” He chuckled. “Told me that it's shallow, that I should find a more serious occupation, and that I should get married, have children, and then die like everybody should.”

“And instead you hooked up with the wealthiest man around and refused to die? I wonder what pissed them off more.”

Elias laughed. 

“Certainly the first one. I didn't need to become a devil. I was already one in their eyes. For them my evil powers were logical consequences of the lifestyle I had.” 

Jon nodded and took a deep breath.

“The dark had a feast today. I don't remember the last time I was so scared." He wiped his cheeks. 

“Beholding had its fill as well.”

“Oh, you bastard.” Jon hissed. Elias smiled.

“Be reasonable, Jon. Who would have resisted?” Jon huffed and didn't answer. He refused to be carried into the house. He slowly entered the living room. Peter glanced at him and frowned. 

“Something different about you today?”

“Um… skirt?” Jon froze standing there awkwardly and didn't really know which way led to the staircase or where the nearest armchair was. Peter tilted his head. 

“No… something else… hm…”

“He can't see, Peter.”

“Oh, that's a massive improvement. Congratulations, Archivist!” Peter cheered, “That was surely it. Elias, you should take an example from him.” Jon chuckled amused. 

“It's temporary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“What a shame. You are allowed on the couch.”

Jon snorted. 

“I…” He took a few steps and bumped into something. “Um… E...Elias?" He touched the chest before him. 

“Not quite.” Peter grinned. “You really can't see? Oh, this is good. Who did this? No, let me guess. Reynar.” 

“Good guess. Can you… move? I want to use my temporary couch privileges.” 

“The couch is the other way.”

“That's not. No. It's not.”

“It is. I moved it to piss Elias off.” Jon stood there in silence. It was… possible. Peter would. 

“E…Elias?”

“He went upstairs.” Peter said quickly, glancing at Elias. Elias froze, closing his mouth before he could say something. Peter grinned, looking at Jon with cruel satisfaction. “We are alone.” He touched his shoulders and circled him slowly. Jon inhaled, heart stuck in his throat. He felt fog curling in his chest, making him shiver. The only thing he could see was a bright red single light point on the TV. But he could see, and that meant he could know. He breathed out slowly. Pushing the fog away, out of his mind. His powers were restricted but not absent. He was not left alone. He clutched the eye pendant in his hand. He was watched. 

He is watching. Beholding said. Barely a whisper, but Jon heard, and his blood boiled with anger. Something that Peter couldn't feel, but Elias flinched and took a step back. But when Jon struck, he succeeded. Elias squirmed in pain and fell on one knee. 

“Do you find it fun, Jonah?” The Archivist whispered, “Maybe you would like to see for yourself?”

“Jon. Be re… “ Elias gasped, his vision suddenly swam and turned pitch black. “No… no, you can't.”

“Oh, I can. I can. Remember about it when you decide to turn your back on me,” Jon hissed. “I can make you blind. I can make you lose. I can make you helpless in a way you've never experienced before. Remember that, Jonah. You belong to the Beholding, and it speaks through me.” 

Elias’ vision went back; he was breathing shallowly and found himself kneeling on the floor. Jon was crouching before him, his eyes wide open with a dangerous green gleam. Elias didn't dare to speak. Jon stood up. 

“I am glad we understand each other.” He said quietly and went straight to the couch. He curled down in the corner of it and wrapped himself in a blanket.

Peter was nowhere to be found, and Elias knew better than to disturb Jon any further.