#(this is the second loop btw and elias is starting to experience ~feelings~)

[suttttton]

Sutton, how goes The Elias Groundhog Day Fic 👀 ?

this has been sitting in my inbox for MONTHS now I am so sorry it's taken me this long to get to it. short answer: it's on the backburner, but not abandoned! RQBB took all of my attention for awhile, and now I'm back at school and have,,,, dishearteningly little time to write. but! there are 60k words so far in the draft, so i am definitely going to come back to it eventually.

i'm putting a sneak-peek beneath the cut, since you've been waiting SO LONG for this response and because i really apprecaite the interest! click through for fucked up jonelias content and the classic jon-brand angst :)

Despite Elias’ intervention, Jon still vows to stop taking live statements. No matter how Elias tries to convince him, Jon always just shakes his head. “It isn’t right,” he says. “What I do is traumatizing, I—It ruins people’s lives. It won’t kill me to limit myself to written statements.”

It won’t kill him, but it clearly wears on him. He looks more and more haggard, feels exhausted all the time. Every use of his powers brings with it massive migraines.

Before, Elias didn’t particularly care how Jon used his Beholding powers. Now that Elias has to see him constantly, it bothers him. Not to mention that he needs Jon to embrace his beholding nature, if his plan has any hope to succeed.

Elias decides to intervene.

“It isn’t good for you to starve yourself like this,” Elias says when they are driving home one day.

“It’s better this way,” Jon mumbles, staring glassily out the window. He doesn’t feel well at all, dizzy and a little feverish. And so hungry.

Elias doesn’t drive home, and it takes Jon a long time to realize they’re going the wrong way, exhausted as he is. “Elias, where are we going?”

“Hush,” Elias says in return.

Jon swallows. “Elias—”

“Jon.” Elias’ voice is hard, severe. Jon shrinks beneath it. None of that petulance now.

Jon wants to protest. He wants to run, to go home and lay down and just try to sleep through this. Wait for the nausea to pass, and then read another written statement.

But some part of him wants to be led along. Wants Elias to force him into this, to free him of his guilt. He’s so hungry.

Elias parks the car.

Across the street is a bus stop where a young man sits, face vaguely illuminated in the light of his phone. Four years ago, he’d had an encounter with the Stranger, and he’d never told a soul, knowing he would never be believed. Privately, he believes it was aliens, and he’s taken to stalking extraterrestrial forums, looking for experiences similar to his own. Thus far, he’s found nothing but thinly disguised creative writing.

Jon has gone stiff in the seat next to Elias, eyes fixed on the man.

“Don’t you want to Ask him?” Elias says.

Jon numbly shakes his head, but he has a trembling hand on the door handle.

Elias takes Jon’s other hand, and Jon’s attention snaps to him. There’s a faint green sheen behind his eyes. Elias run his thumb over the back of Jon’s hand. “It’s alright, Jon. You need this. You know that as well as I do.”

Jon still hesitates.

“Look at him,” Elias says. “He already has nightmares. You aren’t going to kill him. He might even appreciate some more context for what he’s seen.”

Jon looks back at the man, eyes faintly glowing.

“Imagine how much better you’ll feel,” Elias says.

Jon closes his eyes for a long moment, then opens his door and steps out of the car. Elias smiles, watching his Archivist feeding just as he was always meant to.

Twenty minutes later, Jon gets back into the car, looking much, much healthier.

“How do you feel?” Elias asks.

Jon just shakes his head, curling his arms around himself.

Elias doesn’t press the issue.

When they get home, Jon doesn’t talk to Elias. He doesn’t make dinner, doesn’t even eat some of the leftovers in the fridge. He goes straight to his room, curls up in bed with the lights off.

Elias can see into his mind; he Knows Jon isn’t sleeping. Part of him wants to challenge him, to force Jon to talk to him. But anger runs deep in Jon’s mind right now, and Elias doesn’t particularly want to risk turning it into true rage.

He lets Jon sulk. Eventually, he’ll realize that it was for the best.

***

The next morning, Elias wakes up to find Jon making breakfast for one. Beside the couch is Jon’s little bag, packed with all his things. He intends to move back to the Institute.

“Jon, you’re being absurd,” Elias says, leaning against the counter next to him.

Jon doesn’t say anything, just sets his jaw, glaring even harder at the eggs frying on the stove.

“Jon. I’d like for you to talk to me about this.”

“What do you want me to say?” Jon says, angrily flipping his eggs, breaking one of the yolks. He glares at it a second, then abruptly shifts to making scrambled eggs. “You said I would be safer here, and I’m not. So I’m leaving.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “I didn’t actually force you to do anything.”

Jon sucks in a tight breath. He’s thought about that too, turned it over and over in his mind. He can’t absolve himself of blame. But neither does he absolve Elias. “You manipulated me,” he says, scooping his eggs onto a plate. He shoves past Elias to the table and begins to eat, clearly trying to be done with the conversation.

“You were starving,” Elias says. “You were sick and barely functioning! I wasn’t just going to watch you waste away. What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have talked to me about it!” Jon says, shouting now. “You could have actually helped, instead of manipulating me into becoming more like you!”

“Fine,” Elias says, turning away. He’s had enough of this. “Do what you want, if you think so little of my help.”

They don’t speak, on their way back to the archives. Jon hugs his little bag to his chest and stares pointedly out the window. When they get to the Institute, Jon is out of the car before Elias has even put in park.

Jon is still a social pariah in the Archives. Melanie and Basira want nothing to do with him; as far as they’re concerned, he’s still a traitor. He doesn’t mind having to sleep on the hard little cot in document storage, or eating microwave dinners in the break room for every meal. But the loneliness starts to wear on him after just one night.

He misses Elias. More than once, he thinks about climbing the stairs to Elias’ office and apologizing. Asking to move back in with him, on the condition that Elias never pull anything like that again.

His pride won’t allow it. Instead, he spends a week staring at the ceiling in document storage, listening to the noises of the Institute, longing for… something. Why did you get your hopes up? He thinks. You knew what kind of person Elias is.

And then his eyes start to fill with tears that are as much anger as they are sadness. He tries to blink them away, doesn’t want to cry about this, of all things. Pull yourself together, for god’s sake. But the tears slip down his cheeks anyway because he had hoped, had, in fact, just started to believe, that he had misjudged Elias.

After a week, when it becomes clear that Jon is not going to beg forgiveness from Elias, Elias goes to beg forgiveness from Jon. He sends Jon an email, asking to meet in his office. When that goes ignored, he braves the Archives, knocking softly on Jon’s door.

“Come in,” Jon says absently. He shoots to attention when Elias walks in, a cocktail of anger fear relief sadness flashing through his mind. “Oh,” he says, voice flat. “Hello, Elias.”

“Jon,” Elias says. “I owe you an apology.”