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Jonah couldn’t See his Archivist.
It’s not necessarily a new development to have some of his Sight and Knowledge obscured around the Archivist, it’s only natural. A Pupil can’t see itself, nor the Pupil of the other Eye, of course.
It was, however, entirely new to not Know or See anything about him. This was… Concerning, to say the least. The very best case scenario was that Jon had properly Become and Jonah had missed it. Very unlikely. Rather, he supposed, another Power had gotten a hold of his poor Archivist and was blocking Jonah's Sight.
Most of the other Powers could mess with his Sight in some way, so Jonah had to play the elimination game.
1: His Sight and Knowledge was completely blocked, so it had to be a Power pretty directly opposite to the Watcher. The Spiral, the Stranger and perhaps the Forsaken fit that bill.
2: The Forsaken should have little to no interest in the current Archivist. Perhaps Peter, still being bitter about Gertrude messing up his Ritual, but Jonah didn’t think he would up and kidnap the Archivist over that. Which leaves the Spiral and the Stranger.
3: The Entity known as the Distortion had a history, for lack of better phrasing, with the Archivist. Unlike Peter Lukas however, Michael couldn’t make the distinction between Gertrude and Jonathan. Or it didn’t bother. Jon had also mentioned Michael bothering him before.
4: The Stranger was currently planning their Ritual. It’s not unlikely that they see the other Powers as a threat, especially ones who haven’t attempted a Ritual in recent years, and would attempt to weaken them. Either they don’t see Jonah as as much of a threat, remember what the previous Archivist has done to rituals past, or they believe Jonah could still weaken the Circus from the inside.
In any case, as grating as it was, Jonah couldn’t Know (or know) for sure. It wasn’t going to stop him from trying to, though. Jonah knows this is a bad idea, but that wasn’t going to stop him either.
—
“My very existence tied to my pointlessness. Wearing my failure as the very fabric of my being. ” Michael was still talking. “Reduced once again to feeding on the unsuspecting and confused. That is who I am.”
Jon took a deep breath, didn’t stop to wonder the need of it. (He hadn’t taken a single breath during Michael's Statement.)
He collected himself briefly, then asked, curiosity never quite satisfied.
“But you…,” he trails off, tries again.
“You never tried to take revenge on Gertrude?”
The spiralling, twisting entity considered this.
“She knew how to protect herself. She knew what she was creating. And killing her was not as important,” it finally answers. Then, with a cheeky grin that sounded sharp to look at: “She wasn’t as good an Archivist as you are.”
The Archivist wasn’t satisfied, so Jon doubled down: “So why not kill me before?”
The Distortion wrinkled its nose, or what would be its nose on a regular, human face, at being compelled so soon after giving a Statement. It acquiesces though, answers the Archivists question.
“I had hoped that you would stop the Unknowing first, destroy the workings of I-Do-Not-Know-You. But instead you are here, and may bring it about faster,” it answered at last. Then it paused, before it added “So better your death happens now,” just in case it wasn’t being, eugh, clear enough.
Jon was properly panicking at this point, if he were to be honest. He really didn’t want to die.
“I-is there anything I can do to stop you from killing me?” He eventually asked, desperate for a way out. The Distortion started laughing before he was even finished. Jon already felt a migraine coming.
“If you scream loud enough the Circus may take notice of me, but…” it paused to giggle a bit more, Michael was having a grand old time it seemed, “I promise you will die far more pleasantly with me than with them,” Michael barely got the rest of its sentence out before dissolving into head-splitting laughter again.
There really wasn’t a happy ending for Jon, it seemed. It was either Death by Eldritch Door or Death by Eldritch Skinning, and the door would maybe be quicker, at least.
…
This was it, wasn’t it? “Okay.”
Michael was pleased. It gestured to a door behind it, which definitely wasn’t there before. “Right this way,” it grinned.
The door opened.
Jon stepped inside.
He barely even blinked, before he was outside again. What?
“What?” The Distortion echoed, “How did you do that?”
Sadly for everyone involved, Jon was just as confused.
“I- I don’t know?”
“Why are you saying that like it’s a question?” Michael hissed, cleary annoyed.
Jon cringed in anticipation to his own answer.
“I don’t. I don’t know that either, sorry.”
At least he had the decency to look embarrassed.
While Michael was processing what just happened, or tried to at least, Jon took the opportunity to look around. He recognised his surroundings.
“I'm, ah. I’m in front of the Institute,” Jon pointed out, unwisely. Michael looked like it was about to explode. Hopefully metaphysically since Jon, for once, really didn’t want to find out what an exploding Distortion would look like.
After a few, very tense seconds, Michael sighed.
“… Alright,” it conceded.
“Wh- What?”
“Go, Archivist. Clearly I wasn’t mean to kill you. Not today, at least,” Michael gritted out. Still frustrated about its plan failing, but it looked like it had accepted that Murder The Archivist Day wasn’t happening after all.
Jon all but stumbled towards the Institute’s steps, but turned around once, “Thank- Thank you. Really. I, ah. I owe you, I suppose?” and then he was through the grand doors.
Michael was only mildly befuddled over the concept of owing someone for not killing them, when killing them was the original plan. It decided not to think too much about it, that went against its’ very nature after all.
—
Over the course of the next month, Jonah tried to Know or See anything he could about his Archivist. It was quite frightening and infuriating to not be able to keep track of his Archivist. And how do you even lose an Archivist?? He had been able to gleam that it was, indeed, the Stranger which had taken ahold of Jon, but the location still evaded him.
Whenever he wasn’t managing his Institute, Jonah would be Looking. He barely remembered to take care of his needs, and not consistently. Sometimes he’d go days without a proper meal (or Meal) and it had started to take its toll on him.
It all came to a head towards the end of the month. Jonah had gone three days without a proper physical meal and longer without proper Fear. He’d been feeling awful all day, lethargic, weak and with a pounding migraine.
Everything in him was screaming at Jonah to feed on someone damn it, but he was still entirely focused on trying to Find his Archivist. In one month, all he’d been able to Know was that Jon was being held somewhere in an English coastal city, which considering the island status of England didn’t narrow it down by much.
Jonah didn’t have it in him to be surprised when, with a frankly awful stab of his migraine, his vision went blurry and he fainted, straight onto his desk. He was surprised that the last glimpse of what he was Seeing was Jon. He didn’t have time to figure out how he could be Seeing him again before everything went black.
—
Jon marched straight into Elias’ office. He wanted answers and he was determined to get them. But when he knocked, Elias gave no answer. Jon knocked harder, still nothing.
“Elias! Would you like to explain how the Circus could hold me hostage for an entire month with no one noticing?!” He demanded, still harshly knocking on the door. Still no answer. Actually, no sound at all was coming from the office. No typing, no shuffling of papers, nothing. Except, maybe, very very faint… snoring. Huh.
As Jon realised he wouldn’t be getting answers, and worried his ruckus will cause other employees to come up to the office, Jon decided to just open the door.
What he found was most peculiar. Elias was sleeping soundly on his desk, using some coffee stained documents as a pillow.
“Erm. E-Elias?” Jon whispered, rattled by his Evil Eldritch Boss taking a nap at work. Is he drooling?? He thought incredulously. Yeah. Yes, he is. That’s almost adorable.
Jon made his way over to the desk, surely that’s not comfortable , and went to shake Elias awake. Only, that did not work. And Elias was downright burning up. Which was really quite concerning.
The sensible thing in this situation would have been to leave him. Elias was Evil, he trapped him and his friends in a dangerous job and was turing Jon into a Monster.
Jon was not a sensible man.
—
Jonah woke up severely groggy. He was dehydrated, sweaty and too cold. He was also still quite fevered, and thus utterly incoherent.
The first thing he saw was Jon, his beautiful Archivist, standing over him and fretting. This must have been heaven. Which would have meant Jonah had died, a common prerequisite for being in heaven, but Jonah was not even scared. He was so happy to see Jon again, after this terrible month of not knowing if he was alive or not.
“Ah- Elias? You’re rambling. A-again,” Jon’s magnificent voice rang out and- wait what?
“I’ve had to explain this two other times but, uh. You had a really high fever these past two or so days? You’re really, really sick, what even happened?” Jon fretted.
Ah. That would explain quite a few things, actually. But instead of anything resembling a coherent answer to that information, what left Jonah’s mouth was “I think I love you.”
He promptly slapped his hand over his mouth, utterly mortified at his confession. Jon looked. Resigned, actually.
“You’ve mentioned,” he sighs.
Jonah’s face got impossible redder. “I have?” he squeaked, the platonic concept of embarrassed at this point.
Jon smiled… fondly ? Just what had Jonah said while he was sick?
“I’ll catch you up to everything you’ve said when your fever completely breaks, your temperature is still a little high right now,” he was still smiling.
That made sense, Jonah supposed. He was still feeling quite awful. Despite having just woke up, a nap sounded amazing.
“I think. I will go back to sleep for now,” he told Jon.
Jon nodded. “You go do that,” he murmured, still smiling.
—
While Elias rested, Jon bustled about. He made himself meals when hungry (and it was only a little weird to be cooking in someone else’s kitchen), cleaned up after himself, watered the handful of plants Elias had and otherwise altered between reading various books and statements and watching over his boss, to make sure he hadn’t died in his fitful sleep.
And of course, thought about The Incident. A lot.
-
The Incident went as following:
When Elias first woke up again, Jon was in the middle of trying to figure out what was wrong with him in the first place. He had been looking over the other’s body for any abnormalities, bottom to top. It was when Jon had gotten to Elias’ face that Elias woke up.
He was still very much delirious with fever.
That was the only explanation Jon could hope to come up with for what left his boss’s mouth.
“Hi Jon,” was first, which was still normal enough. Then followed, “I think I love you,” with the dopiest grin imaginable. Jon had promptly been dissolved into a sputtering, blushing mess. He had said it so casually! Jon should’ve really thought over his response, Elias couldn’t get any wrong ideas.
Instead of that, though, Jon simply responded a slightly (very) awkward “Me too,” a smaller, though almost equally dopy grin plastered on his face a second later. Fantastic.
-
Jon still felt incredibly embarrassed about that. His plan was to just omit his response when telling Elias about The Incident, and his boss would hopefully be none the wiser. No, he didn’t think omitting an embarrassing detail from his all-knowing boss would work, but he could dream.
In the mean time, he sat down with a cup of chocolate mocha and a nice book to read, some encyclopedia or other, content with waiting for Elias to wake up.
—
Which happened sooner than anticipated. Now that Jonah had mostly recovered, the Eye helped speed the rest of his recovery along quite well. How nice of It. The fact that Jonah was curious about what he had missed while out definitely helped, too.
He awoke still a bit bleary-eyed and disoriented at first. The fever had settled down mostly, having gone from almost 40°C to a nice and toasty 37,8°C. Still higher temperature than usual, but by no means a proper fever anymore. Jonah felt quite better as well, to his delight.
After quietly lying in bed for a few more minutes to gather his thoughts (and perhaps strength as well), he launched an attempt at sitting up. It worked for all of a few seconds, before he tumbled down and out of bed, still weakened by a week of being sick.
It made quite the racket, and Jonah may have squealed a little on his way down. He sincerely hoped Jon didn’t hear, but he knew the hope was futile.
Sure enough, Jon came all but bursting through the bedroom door a few seconds later, looking mighty concerned. As soon as he realised what exactly had happened though, he began laughing at Jonah. Rude.
Jonah put on his best pout (and it was a good pout), he was sick! For a week! So sue him if he’s still a bit weak, it really was to be expected, in his expert opinion.
Seeing his usually so stuck up (or afraid, or suspicious or a million other things that are never happy ) Archivist loosen up like that though, Jonah couldn’t help but giggle a bit as well. He wasn’t hurt, so there was no point in taking himself all so seriously.
Jon did help him up though, just to prevent any other mishaps. He looked at Jonah all… Fondly . It was so weird, but Jonah was not about to complain.
The moment couldn’t last forever though, and he was advised to sit back down on the bed so Jon could fill him in.
—
Jon was pretty damn nervous at this point, how was he going to tell his boss that he had confessed his love to Jon while delirious with fever? It was simply an impossible task!
Okay Sims, you got dramatic again.
Jon took a breath, steadied his voice (or tried to at least) and began his tale of The Incident:
“You, erm. Actually- ah, I should start from when I found you, shouldn’t I?” he stuttered out. Great.
“That would be most useful to me, yes,” Elias retorted, ever so smarmily. Bastard.
“Well, I was kidnapped by the Circus of the Other for, uh, about a month or so?” Elias’ eyes widened a bit with alarm, “But then Michael, the, erm, the Distortion, came and wanted to kill me,” Further alarm and worry from Elias, “But it, erm. It failed?” Elias had to interrupt Jon’s rambling at this point.
“Why are you saying that as though it were a question, Jon?” Elias’ voice sounded like he was about to cry. Whether from concern or from the sheer confusion, Jon didn’t know.
“I don’t know why I keep doing that, sorry,” Jon at least had the sensibility to cringe at that.
Elias probably Knew, but Jon might just combust if Elias ended up psychoanalysing Jon, so he let it slide. For now.
Nevertheless, Jon continued onwards with his story. “Well, Michael had me go through its’ Door and Hallways, but I just kind of. Came through to the other side, I suppose,” he continued. Elias looked even more concerned, it was starting to get impressive, honestly.
“I don’t actually know what happened in there, it was like I blinked and then I was outside again,” he elaborated. Elias made a small ‘huh’ noise. It was lost under Jon’s next part of the story.
“Well, I was dropped off, for lack of better wording, in front of the Institute, so I decided to go inside. I went to give you an earful for letting me be kidnapped for a month, but you were passed out cold.”
Elias had the decency to look guilty at that. Good on him.
“I could not See you or Know where you were. I am truly sorry that you had to be with those awful clowns for a month,” he explained. Jon looked a little appeased at that, at least. It did feel nice to have someone care about Jon's whereabouts, for once.
“Well, in any case, you had a very high fever and cold sweats. You kept shivering too. I honestly had half the mind to go to A&E, but I had no way of getting you there,” Jon went on. Elias chose not to mention the existence of ambulances, for his own sanity’s sake.
“I didn’t know what was wrong with you, but you did wake up periodically so I could get you to eat and drink some stuff at least.” Pause. “Plus, I think you’ll appreciate that neither I nor you had to explain all your supernatural bullshit to some poor EMT,” he continued. Elias did appreciate it.
It was clear Jon wanted to say more.
“You were pretty out of it throughout the week though. And. You, ah. Erm,” Jon had once more been reduced to a stuttering mess, poor guy.
“You. May-have-said-you-loved-me,” he ended up rushing out. Elias went neon red . Jon didn’t even know blush could reach that far! It was a sight to behold.
“And what did you respond?” It sounded less like Elias was asking a question, and more like he was begging Jon for mercy.
“M-Me. Erm. Me too,” he all but sighed out, defeated by the sheer embarrassment he felt. Oh look at that, the blush spread even further! And it got darker ! Fascinating stuff, truly.
Engrossed in his observation of Elias’ embarrassment as he was, Jon almost missed the tiny “Did you mean it?” from Elias. It was Jon’s turn to set his face on fire.
“Yes,” no point in lying, after all.
Elias looked. Really relieved, actually. Huh?
“That. Wasn’t just feverish delirious rambling on your part?” Jon shrieked out.
“No, Jon. I have ah, fancied you for a while now. Especially since you have been growing so well as Archivist,” Elias confessed. Face still very much red. Heh. “I was not planning on confessing to it this early, or ever, but I supposed my fevered self had other plans,” Elias chuckled. Face still bright red, but he was now also sporting that incredibly dopey grin again. What a dork.
That was a lot of information to take in for Jon’s poor brain. (‘Fancied’ him? Wow, Jon had to blush a little there!) But, hey. It’s not like Jon didn’t have his own (though significantly more complicated) feelings towards Elias. He decided he could maybe, have one (1) nice thing for once, between all the kidnappings and apocalypses.
“So, what happens now?”
It was clear Elias wasn’t expecting that question, eyes widening the slightest bit in surprise.
“What do you mean, Archivist?”
Wow. Okay. Jon always thought that he’d never get used to, let alone enjoy being called Archivist, but Elias sure had a way of changing his mind on that.
“What do you mean, what do I mean? We both reciprocate each other's feelings, so what do we do with that information?” he continued.
“Oh,” said Elias, “I did not you to want anything with me.” A pause. “Perhaps, I ah, I would be amicable to a kiss?” he tried.
Jon wrinkled his nose, “Not until I know I won’t catch whatever left you passed out in your office,” he grumbled. Elias grinned.
“Well, in that case you do not need to worry. I must have overworked myself in trying to See where you went and exhausted myself,” Elias admitted. Under usual circumstances he wouldn’t dream of admitting such a weakness, but he trusted Jon.
Jon smirked, and instead of simply answering, placed an almost shy kiss on Elias’ cheek, still a little red from the fever. And now it was bright red with blush again! Truly delightful of Elias to be so reactive.
Elias sat there and looked quite stunned for an impressive amount of time, before his face started mimicking a volcanic eruption in terms of colour and temperature, right under Jon’s lips. Eventually, Jon took mercy on his poor boss and leaned back again, smirk having at least tripled in size.
Elias had to take a moment to recover, but he regained his wits quickly enough.
Yet, when he opened his mouth to shoot back something snarky-flirty, all that came out was a high pitched squeal . Jon was delighted at this and promptly leaned in for another kiss, on the other cheek this time. It was shorter than the first, if only to allow Elias to hide his face in his hands to try and cope with the flusteredness overload.
Jon sat back and enjoyed the show, and when Elias’ blush had just dying back down, he decided to drop the bombshell: “You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to a relationship, Elias,” he casually mentioned, the epitome of cheek.
“Jon. I,” Elias interrupted himself with deep breaths, “I certainly would not be opposed either,” he managed to murmur out.
And Jon decided that needed a proper kiss after all.