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“Hello. Are you Jonathan Sims?”
“Yes, wh-?”
“Excellent.”
Jon finally turned around fully as a woman in a heavy black cloak grabbed him bodily, and tried to drag him away. He made a valiant attempt at kicking and screaming and causing a ruckus, but was hopeless as the woman threw him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and started walking. Every passer-by ignored them, seeming to not even see them as their eyes slid straight over them.
In an office a few blocks away, a man sat at his desk, watching intently. The Dark weren’t supposed to be in play yet, what would they want with Jon? They were going to ruin all his plans! The Eye and the Dark were absolute opposites of each other, and at Jon’s current level he may not survive an encounter.
Elias would have to act if he didn’t want all his progress to be lost. His progress, that was all. If Jon did die he could just be replaced with any other worker. Of course. He didn’t care about Jon, of course not, he was better than that. Of course.
He sighed, closing his eyes. He hated doing this, but he couldn’t do anything else from where he was.
Every eye on the street suddenly turned to the pair. Every person, every animal, every drawing and sign and advert turned towards them. Jon shuddered; it was painful, but strangely pleasant, like massaging aching muscles.
Underneath him, the woman started shrieked and walking faster. She had begun jogging as a voice filled Jon’s ears.
“Manuela Dominguez. Member of the Church of the Divine Host. Will you return my Archivist, or shall I tell you about all you have done? You have sacrificed all you had for a ritual destroyed by an old lady-”
“No, fine! Shut up, I’ll give him back! Just stop talking! Stop looking!”
With that, Jon was thrown to the floor as the woman – Manuela Dominguez – ran into a dark alley and vanished.
“Jon. Return to the Institute.”
And the pressure Jon hadn’t noticed building behind his eyes vanished, as he felt the presence leave his head. He hauled himself to his feet, and began the slow trek back to the Institute.
“Elias?” Jon called, knocking on the door to the Head office. At a groan from within he hurried in, concerned.
“What happened-? Elias, are you alright?”
Elias lifted his head from the desk and looked up at Jon. His eyes were crusted with blood, and some still sluggishly dripped down, mixing with tears. He was pale, very pale, and shaking slightly. He smiled a crooked smile, exhaustion clear, before slumping back down into his arms. Jon rushed over and shook his shoulder harshly.
“Elias? Elias! Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?”
Elias groaned, and Jon let out a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. Well, at least Elias hadn’t just dropped dead in front of him.
“E-Elias? I’m going to try and put you on the floor so you can lay down, is that okay?”
Jon put an arm around Elias’ shoulders and tugged, and only succeeded in pulling much of the man’s dead weight onto himself. He wheezed as Elias rolled off of him, onto his back.
“Jon.” Elias’ voice broke a little, as though he had been shouting. “Can I have water, please?”
Jon nodded, and scurried off to find a bottle.
When he returned, Elias was sitting up with his back against the wall. He had lost his blazer and tie, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. Jon had never seen him so…laid back? Casual? Jon would have been tempted to ask for a hug, if his heart wasn’t beating a hundred miles an hour.
He held the bottle to Elias’ lips, and gently tipped it until Elias stopped him.
“Thank you, Jon.”
“Elias, what is going on? Who was that woman, what happened? Why are you…what happened to you?”
Elias sighed, rubbing his temples.
“The woman was a servant of another monster. She wanted to kidnap you and most likely sacrifice you for her god. I…I stopped her. I could not let her take you.”
“What happened to you?” Jon repeated. He didn’t know what Elias meant, but he could worry about that later.
“I…ah, I rather exerted myself trying to help you. It was perhaps a rash move, but I could not see another solution at the time.” He chuckled humorlessly.
And blinked in surprise as Jon fell into his arms, holding him tight.
He held his arms above, unsure if he was supposed to be holding Jon back, but eventually decided to lower them and enjoy the comfort.
They sat like that for a long time, until Jon had blood and tears in his hair and Elias felt somehow lighter than he had in a long while.
Jon sat respectfully, blessedly, silent as a sob tore through Elias that he could not stifle in time. Then another, and another. He was better than this, he thought, as he made no moves to stop himself.
“It hurts,” he cried. “It hurts so damn much.”
Jon pressed as close as he could, trying to show wordless support.
“I was so scared. I- I was terrified . I don’t want to lose you, Jon. I can’t lose you too.”
He sniffled, pressing his face into Jon’s hair.
“Oh Jon, I’m making a mess. I- I am sorry.”
Later that day, Rosie would tap on the door, just dropping off some files. And she would find the two of them tangled together, snoring softly. But that was a problem that could be dealt with later. For now, Elias could allow himself to be vulnerable. To be safe.