Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You know having your eyes carved out isn't as painful as it sounds- the worst part of the actual process is cutting the optic nerve, unless you're counting the aftermath, possession isn’t fun if you're the one being possessed.

His first clear memory was him laying on the ground, sprawled out across the cold gritty concrete of the structure he did not know. His breathing was unsteady as his mind ached in an agony he had never wished to know… The air was thick with the scent of dust and rusted metal, it was unpleasant to say the least, and that’s not to mention the overwhelming smell of fresh blood.

 He had and was continuing to try and look around but his headache hurt too much to do almost anything. His brain felt itchy and as if something unnatural was placing a pressure upon it in strange places .He couldn’t move anything else either. Elias was quietly panicking. 

Eventually his gaze did move, although he wished it didn’t as his eyes were forced to lay upon a corpse and his stomach dropped instantly. Elias knew all too well the vision of a corpse but he was yet to see one so old. The dusty carcass of who he knew to be Jonah Magnus sat limp against the wall of the Building, somehow having remained majorly intact.

 He was sure it was Magnus, it had to be as he would never forget the face that watched him from the portrait in Wright’s office. Those eyes that never seemed quite right, those eyes that seemed far too familiar, those eyes that seemed to follow him even after leaving the building.

The eyes that he thought belonged to James Wright.

 Or maybe not. This man did appear much older than any of the portraits he had seen but… It was Magnus. He was sure of it. he just knew it. although he didn't yet know why his corpse was here.

Elias wasn’t exactly surprised to find out that his boss was evil. The man had never seemed quite right and had always frightened him. God he could never forget that first interview, one of the worst days of his life. the feeling of being seen, known, all of his secrets being read like a mildly interesting passage of a book, he knew even then that this man was bad. Yet he stayed. He told himself that he was staying to try and make something himself, he knew of course that was a lie. He wasn’t allowed to leave and he wasn't going to try. There wasn't exactly anyone waiting for him. Regardless of how ‘bad’ he thought James Wright was, he would never have expected that he would be a murderer, nor that Elias would be the victim

Honestly Elias had always thought he was in his good books, he had only gotten in trouble a few times, complaints of smelling like weed or something like that. But other than that he thought he had been a pretty decent employee! clearly he had been wrong.

His mind drifted back to the cold concrete of the tower… The panopticon. This was the panopticon of Millbank prison. He felt his body cramping from the odd position his body sat in. His eyes felt heavy with the familiar weight of exhaustion. He needed to get out of here. Everything hurt and he couldn’t even make himself do something as simple as blinking. 

His body would not obey him… What was going on?!?. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to go home. Well, maybe not that. 

He wondered if he was dying. It was the only reasonable explanation. right? your body cramps. you can't move…anything. That must be a symptom of some sort of dying!?!? he didn’t understand.

 Were these his last moments?

This couldn't be it.

He was still young

He had years before he died yet

Time to get his life together

Time to make friends

No this couldn't be it. He wouldn’t let it.

No. It wasn't he knew it wouldn’t be. He couldn't die yet. He had to do something first.

Much to his wary relief he felt his hand lift to his face, wiping it in exhaustion. No, he wasn't dead then. His head was pulsing in pain as he tried to hold down the vomit that had risen to his stomach due to the stress of the situation. And the corpse of course. 

He did not want to stay sat down, he wanted to get up and run out of here now; he knew he could do it. but his legs would not listen when he told them to push him up. Simple control was taken from him, given to someone who wanted him to stay.

He let out a shaky breath as his gaze drifted over the room. Eyes sitting on the second corpse, this one was much fresher yet also looked sickening. It, of course, was what claimed to be James Wright, his skin paled far beyond life can complete, especially at his now purple extremities as the unpumping blood followed the flow of gravity. His mouth hung ajar revealing the still bright red hue of his mouth. His eyelids hung half closed over the blood stained emptied sockets where his eyes used to be. It was a sickening sight but uncomfortably familiar. 

His gaze shifted again, this time to the opposing side of the room. He noticed something he hadn’t before. A bag. It was relatively large, sort of beanbag-ish and a deep business brown. It looked like something one would store gym clothes in except uglier and boring-er. It was quite old, and held supplies for emergency medical care. A first aid kit if you will. It was perfectly set up to be ready for cleaning up a corpse. Elias wasn't sure how he knew that.

 His arm reached forward for it  and pulled it into his lap. He unzipped the bag, finding exactly what he expected. The inside was carefully organised in the little pockets that held the supplies. It wasn't labelled at all but he still knew where everything he needed sat in that busy little bag. Eventually he pulled out an unlabelled tub of pills alongside a bottle of what he presumed was water. They were painkillers of course, but he knew they would not calm that ache that still pushed against his mind. They were lifted to his lips and he swallowed the pills swiftly before placing them back and pulling out a few other un-noteworthy items.

Finally he stood, he stumbled a little as he tried but soon found his footing before slowly making his way over towards the body. His legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they walked towards the one thing he wanted to avoid. Maybe this is what ‘being on autopilot’ meant.

Elias kneeled beside the corpse, the bag was sat beside his leg, a gentle and soft cloth sat in clear sight, it looked like something you would wash your skin with to not scratch yourself. He placed this cloth around the eye sockets first, after all they were the most bloodied. He wanted to vomit even more now. He couldn’t move his hand away, he couldn’t do anything, his mind and his body were no longer connected. Someone else was controlling him. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted them to stop. He wouldn't do this. He would run. Even if he had wanted to do this he knew he would be unable to. it wasn't him doing it though. but that wasn't possible.


Mind rushing, Elias tried to think of a possible reason that everything had happened. Why had James done this?! He just gouged his and Elias's eyes out?! For what reason? Elias had done nothing and James never struck him as suicidal… Even if he was why. A thought hit him. Where were his eyes? He knew James had tried to cut them out but well- his mind went blank as soon as the second was taken- He had initially thought that is what he's using right now, after all he can very clearly see what he's doing… walking down the tower. He thought and thought and tried to think where on earth they were. But then at that moment his hand reached into his pocket, conveniently answering his question.

He felt something soft, round and sort of squishy… He knew what they were instantly… pulling out the eyeballs they were placed delicately into the dead corpse… they were the wrong colour. James had grey eyes and these were an all too familiar brown. They were his. Why? Why do this and what purpose did this bring? He didn't even realise they were there.

His head hurt so much he wanted to cry again, the thing that  felt as if it was pushing its way into his skull was getting far worse. He was knowing details of things he didn't want to. He understood that James had swapped his eyes and Elias's killing hi-no. That wasn't right. James did not die; he lived now. no. no. That wasn't right either. It was not James that lived in him now. Jonah.  It was Jonah. Of course it was Jonah. Jonah magnus stole his body. Jonah doesn't realise Elias is there. Not yet.

Elias was exhausted, the overwhelming amount of knowledge was draining him and he could barely focus. He also knew he couldn't sleep, he had to remember this all in case he could find a way to save himself.  So he just watched for a while. 

Eventually the body was cleared up, it still looked dead of course, there was no changing the fact that it was dead. But, it was cleaned of blood and patched up scratches from his fighting back. His mouth sighed in annoyance as he cleaned up those ones. Elias knew this was due to the obvious signs of attack, it could imply there was a struggle. He picked up the body. its skin was still warm. you’d think it would be cold after a body dies, but it actually takes a while for a body to cool down. This was making the hair on his arms stand up. It felt strangely relaxed and wax-like, not the texture he expected, it had been only… How long? not that long… point was it felt much deader than he expected. 

It was surprisingly lighter than he expected. James, while not a particularly large man, he had always had a heavy presence, but in reality he wasn't much larger than Elias himself, an inch or so taller but other than that and the more mature look gifted by age- they were relatively the same in that sense. 

He easily pulled the corpse down the tower, holding it princess style as it made it easier not to scratch it. Elias had been trying to ignore that sickening feeling of the skin, but it still made him feel ill. He knew he wouldn't vomit, his body was too disconnected from his mind to have such a physical reaction. He wasn't sure if that was a positive or negative honestly. No, throwing up isn't fun but neither is being completely unable to control his own body.

The tunnels were unsettling to say the least, they were dry and dusty in a way that told him that almost nobody had been down here in decades. There was a lingering loneliness to the place, it felt both manmade and natural in a strange way. 

The doorways were so odd, like the architect kept forgetting their plans every time they needed to build one. Some were arched and pristine, others were square, made of bricks and falling to pieces, and then there were those that he couldn't even realistically refer to as a doorway as they were more akin to a hole, just ones that sometimes led to rooms, or sometimes it was only brick or concrete. His eyes wondered tiredly trying to see if there was a way out of this, or at least someone who could see what was happening. That was stupid of course. nobody wants to travel by dusty 200 year old tunnels 

Soon, he was at a trapdoor, it was brown and seemed as old as the tunnels themselves, the wood was old and had bent downward slightly, showing the clear indication of people using it as if it was another part of the floor. Elias knew it led into the archives, he had seen it many times before and had always wondered what was under.  A question now answered.

He pushed it up, it was really heavy as it was, not to mention trying not to drop a corpse. He was sort of glad he wasn't the one to have to manoeuvre it. although that wasn't saying much seeing as he still felt the strain of his muscles.

He opened it and quickly closed it, before speed walking to his desk. He laid down the body carefully, closing the emptied eyelids in an attempt to mask the true cause of death from the inevitable investigation. Elias wasn't sure why Jonah would bother to close them, it wasn't like they wouldn't notice the changed eyes, they couldn't ignore something like that, they wouldn't… 

He opened one of the draws, inside was a few items he recognised as James's. a necklace and a pin, the necklace held a small golden locket, rounded throughout but had a simply patterned edge that’s pattern reminded him of a seashell.  Small scuff marks showed its age, it had clearly never seen a jeweller for any sort of touch up or shining; years and years of handling written all over it in the natural weathering of any item of age. Flicking it open it showed a small worn photo, two people stood in an office that seemed both familiar and very distant.

 They were smiling for the photo while one held a certificate of some sort while the other rested his hands on his shoulder. The photo was probably as old as the locket itself and he could only assume it belonged to jonah magnus. although he couldn’t quite make out the details enough to tell if he was one of the people in the photograph but he thought it had to be. The certificate must be for the institute he reasoned. although nothing came to him about the other man in the photo.

Snapping the locket closed, Jonah put it in his pocket before looking over the pin. Elias recognised it immediately, James used to wear this on his suit whenever there were donors.  He remembered the first time he saw James wearing it, he happened to have a meeting with him on that day. His eyes seemed to always keep floating down to that little pin, a small smile seemed to peak down at it.  Elias thought maybe he had some sort of girlfriend that got it for him. If he did, Elias had never heard of them.

As Elias thought, the body of what pretended to be James Wright was fully set up and placed in a position that seemed somehow natural to sleep in. He wasn't sure why Jonah had bothered with that as it was clearly a pretty unnatural death, but I guess A body is better than no body.

With all that completed, Jonah left the office, going to Elias's desk and taking his house keys. Elias didn't drive and it seemed Jonah knew that already, as he didn't even bother looking for car keys.  Elias hated the idea of Jonah going to his house, it was his space and it wasn't exactly ‘prepared for guests’ nobody had to see that. Not like Elias could stop him though.

Jonah sneered in disgust as he saw Elias's home. It was very messy and clothes were thrown across the floor. Despite the vast number of rooms he only ever used very few. 

Most were empty, lined with dust and mould from the damp atmosphere of the country or those that held boxes filled with gifts from friends he no longer knows. All covered in dust as Elias had tried to forget his losses. 

Stepping over the junk, Jonah made his way to the far too large bathroom, his legs wobbled a little as he walked, still trying to get used to his new centre of gravity. Like a teen that just had another growth spurt.

Entering the room he felt the dampness thick in his throat, the sink was dripping slightly having not been turned off properly this morning. The drain echoed and the pipes groaned. It was clear it was not the first time this happened. Maturing rust leaked from the connection in those pipes, reminding Elias of the many rushed mornings from late nights wasted away. A small plastic shaver sat in a pool on the sink, accompanied by an unused toothbrush slowly moulding in its bristles. The closest thing to soap in that bathroom was the ‘signature’ body wash that sat, knocked over, on the shower floor, slowly leaking its sweet apple scented goop.

Jonah walked up to the mirror, wiping it despite it being perfectly clear.  His eyebrows were pinched in a furrow as he looked over his face. Small scars from picked at skin and improperly handled pimples littered across his face. Grey eyes looked from where brown used to sit. They didn’t fit his face, not necessarily in appearance or anything. They just held themself as someone much older.

He pushed back his hair, holding the length as a ponytail, watching the way the pulled back look framed his face. Elias could feel Jonah's scrutiny, the critique of a physique he had always hated weighed down on him. Flicking eyes swallowed his agony like a gourmet meal. Jonah smiled, the smile was ill fitted for his face, stretching the skin far more than it was used to. 

“Well it's not perfect,” Jonah said to nobody but himself. “But it's workable”

Elias just felt more sick.

Chapter Text

The soft ticking of the clock sang in the background of Elias's disjointed thoughts. Every click echoing around the room in a horrific melody of clicks. Every. Fucking. Second.

It was only a few days ago he at least had the ability to leave but now all he could do was sit and suffer. Accompanying it and gliding across the page with a dark scratch, a  fountain pen could be heard harmonising with that insistent clock. It's blistering ink signed documents re-budgeting the whole institute by such minimal margins he could only think. Why bother? All this noise was brought together by the occasional flick of a turning page and satisfied hums. It was Agonising.

The day had been long and boring, nothing had happened since lunch which Jonah skipped in favour of pushing up a meeting with some institute sponsor, Silas Farrell or something along those lines. Honestly, Elias had not really been paying much attention to the conversation, as he was busy eyeing the clock wondering when Jonah would eat. He was always hungry around this time and even though he wasn't... controlling the body he certainly could feel it. 

Jonah has organised a series of meetings over the course of the next two days, introducing 'Elias Bouchard' as their 'new' boss. This afternoon he was meeting with the archival crew. Starting with the archivist, Gertrude Robinson, which was due… any moment. At least this was a break from the monotonous task Jonah enthusiastically took on, seeming to find a strange joy in the act of reading and writing paperwork. Elias had never seen a man find so much joy in scheduling.

Honestly Elias, despite not actually being the one conducting the meeting, was quite nervous. He had only ever met the woman once, and that was once too much for him. 

It was an autumn afternoon, he remembers because he made the unfashionable decision to wear a scarf, not because he was cold, but rather he just sort of thought he had to.

She had come to artefacts storage to look for some old lighter, it was a fire-like orange with splatters of black interrupting the vibrant colour. It had been sent to the institute due to constantly being at a temperature above boiling and nobody could even touch it without causing significant burns. He even remembered the lady who brought it in, her hands were bandaged up to the elbow and she brought it in a frying pan she also gave up (despite not being an artifact).

Elias was taking on the job of accepting take-in and out forms for the artifacts as the usual staff was away with a cold. It was a pretty simple system, check the status and dangers of the object, read whether it can be lent out for research and for how long, then get Claire to collect it and give it to whoever asked. At most the checking out process should take 10 minutes. 

Gertrude had come over to Elias with the paperwork already filled out and with an impatient demeanour.

“Where's Benjamin? I need this signed now, I've already made sure it's fine to checkout”, her foot tapped against the ground and she shook her head around the room as if Ben would just appear out of nowhere.

“Oh he's out sick today! I’m Elias, I'm covering him. And I can help you with all that” he took the papers from her and began to quickly skim the page for any open lines of text that needed to be checked over. Technically, he should have checked it thoroughly but he couldn't be bothered if he was honest.

“Just be quick”. He nodded without looking up, mentally noting down all the keywords. Before coming across the clear label stating it must stay in storage.

“I'm sorry Miss….. uhm … R-Roberts?” 

“Robinson. Gertrude Robinson. Get to the point"

“Right, you- uhm- you cant- like- can't... you cant uhm check this out?” He tossed around his words, he had heard enough rumours that caused him not to want to upset her.

She simply sighed, “I should have special authority in this department, Benjamin would know this, however I understand why you do not.” She pushed her glasses upwards, pinching her nose bridge, before picking up the forms again. “I ask you just please give me the lighter.”


“I’m sorry but I can’t do that, Id say contact Mr wright, if you really-”

“He is on his lunchbreak, I do not have time for this Elias.” she over pronounces his name. It made him very uncomfortable to hear someone mock it for whatever reason. He held the papers firmly as they bent in his grasp. He had never liked being mocked, well nobody does but Elias wasn't supposed to be mocked. He was a Bouchard, his father always taught him he was better than everyone else.

Looking up, Elias shot Gertrude a face of false confidence, placing the partly filled in forms behind the desk out of immediate reach.

“Well tough, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.” He puffed out his chest and crossed his arms while nervously looking her up and down, awaiting the reaction.


“I don't have the time for this.” She said simply before walking away speedily, the echo of her shoes pounding against Elias's eardrums.

 -

Later that day, while Elias was coming back from his lunch break. Final crumbs from his ham and cheese sandwich were still collecting around the sides of his mouth. When he saw her.

In her hand is a noticeable steel bucket held by a thick glove. As he passed her he saw the distinct warping of air that comes from heat.

“Hey you-” Elias knew what she had done instantly and was about to call her out but the glare she gave him in that moment was nothing below a threat. Cold green eyes meeting distinct brown. Time seemed to slow, the bucket mid swing showing to Elias exactly what was inside. Would it have been worth calling her out? Maybe, but he didn't want to see what happened.

Time moved on, her gaze broken and both kept on walking. He wondered for the next few days when he would be chewed out for the incorrect file but he never was, and he chose not to bring it up.

And now he sat waiting for what she thought was him interviewing her. Did Jonah know about the interaction? Of course he did but would she bring it up? Does she even remember? If so what will Jonah say-

Knock knock

Jonah and Elias both pulled themselves from their thoughts, looking up at the door.

“Come in, please” Jonah sighed, tensed his shoulders and took a sharp inhale before placing his pen down and shuffling his papers to the side. 

“Hello, Elias.” She opened the door, closing it directly after without breaking eye contact. She wore a  green striped hazel cardigan that seemed slightly too small for her and looked cropped as it hung open. Honestly, she looked like nothing more than a grumpy faced old woman.

“Gertrude, yes?” He looks at her with a professional smile, his hands gesturing towards the cushioned chair on the opposing side. She nods, taking her seat.

“As I am, very sure you know. James Wright has recently… passed on the job to me. And so I would like to do some more formal introductions to staff. I believe we only ever spoke once Afterall” 

So he did know, makes sense. James had always seemed like the sort of man to do his research after all.

She took a pause, her expression taken aback, before she responded “I do believe that to be best.” she paused again “so, anything you would like to ask? Elias.”

“Yes. Let's start simple. How long have you worked here?”

“ Thirty-one years”

“Alright, what is your job?” 

She scoffed “I am The Head Archivist, I'd hope you knew at least that” she crossed her legs and arms, leaning back in her chair, relaxing her old bones.

“Of course,” he chuckled, ”but could you explain what exactly you do?” Was he acting intentionally ignorant?

She took a moment in thought before responding “ I sort and Archive the statements after they have been passed through research and follow up on anything they were not able to.” she said it as if it was obvious, and maybe it should be to the head of the institute. 

“Right, well then could you please explain why you use so much institute budget on travel expenses?” He dropped his smile slightly before lifting up a paper which documented the amount spent on travel just this year alone.


“I said follow up when research couldn’t,” she pinched her nose bridge “sometimes that requires a little… travel”

“Alright then, however I would like to discuss a possible re-budgeting.” pulling out a new piece of paper with an honestly minimal cut to the travel budget. “Feel free to look this over”

“Okay, anything else?” She asked, irritated. Surprisingly she didn't comment on the document and simply nodded.

“Of course, what is-” Jonah continued to ask Gertrude many more questions, although they tended to be less accusatory to the way Gertrude did her job and more boring general questions about the institute. By the time they got to the end of questions Gertrude seemed thoroughly exhausted by the constant queries. While Elias had been interested at first he soon realised it was the same script he asked every other employee, aside from the handful of questions about the specifics of work.


“Final question, what, from James Wright's management would you like to see a change to” Was he seriously asking her to talk bad about him, to him? Elias Guessed so.


“Well,” she paused. Gertrude looked surprised by the question, even taking a full minute to respond.  “I would like… less observation. James certainly kept his eye on me.” Her green eyes met Jonah's grey, both of them looking at each other with a knowing.

He raised his eyebrows with a chuckle "Well, I’ll see what I can do” He brushed over the comment with a smirk and a shifting of seating position.

“Well then, do you have any questions for me?” He was also done with the conversation and has only asked out of courtesy, like with every other employee.

“Yes, actually.” She stood up, wiping her skirt of wrinkles before stepping to the side of her seat.

“Go on” He tugged silently at the band of his watch.

Inhale “Prior to the recent death of James Wright, I was not able to get a finalised signature of some documents I needed. They should be somewhere amongst his paperwork” She held no awareness for insensitivity treating James's death as nothing but a job handover. Maybe she knew, maybe.


“Ah of course, I believe I saw them the other day, I shall read over them in due time.” He stood up with her, walking over to his desk to shuffle through files as if the paperwork would be there, though Elias was certain it wasn't. Jonah Glanced at the clock before asking”Anything else?”  

“Not unless you have any other questions yourself.” She walked over to the door, grasping the knob, turning it slowly.


“No, that is all, Gertrude.” he pulled his seat back and sat down once more in his nice leather seat. He picked up a pen but did not write anything yet, holding it over some document. “Thank you for your time”

She nodded silently before leaving the room, the soft sound of her heels clicking away marking her exit. As she closed the door Jonah watched, not moving a muscle until her steps were out of earshot. When it was Jonah dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair, letting out a large exhale, wiping his face with his hands.

He peered through the gaps in his fingers, the carved ceiling looked back, soft swirls and spirals that always seemed to form into eye-like shapes. Elias had never seen a pattern quite like it, it must have been custom made or something.

Elias had not expected this reaction from Jonah, he hadn't acted like this with anyone else. He reasoned that maybe it was because of the long day, but, it wasn't like he was done, he had at minimum three more hours left, maybe more if he decided to stay late. It had to be Gertrude, why though? Elias didn’t know their history. He had never seen them interact before now. She clearly knew about all the horrors of this place, maybe she knew his horror too? Or perhaps it was something else. He couldn't know, not yet. 

After a few moments, Jonah left his mood and went back to paperwork, returning Elias to the constant irritating sounds of pen and clock. He would have preferred his eyes being ripped out again.

Elias was unsure how to feel.

 He watched the rain stain the grave with darkness, clearing off its dust. 

The funeral service ended an hour ago and the grave now sat lonely absent of all people. There were very few guests that day, and those who did visit seemed disinterested and left as soon as the staff completed what they were required. Guess he has no friends.

‘James Wright’ is officially gone. The medical examiners notes claimed it was a suicide due to the self inflicted wounds. It was a flawed explanation, due to the scratches and the fact that he had never shown any signs of mental illness. Law enforcement was all too happy to take the lie.

It was strange to him, James Wright had actually been gone for... who knows how long. All the mourning being gifted to an impersonator who hadn't even left. Only part of Wright that was still there was his body, but even that has been carved and morphed to the tastes of this sick man who claimed lives not his own. 

Elias pondered on the man whose life had been stripped from him.

Wondering  if one day he would be the one at the grave. Guests being friends of another who did not know nor care to who he actually is, or perhaps he would be with Jonah forever more, never to get his peace. 

Maybe James had wondered the same thing? Did he also watch from the eyes of another as his life was rewritten to fit his narrative? or did he go when he was supposed to? He has a feeling it was the latter but he couldn’t be sure. The idea of not being the first would have comforted him.

Drowning himself in these thoughts, he had not noticed the man who also now visited the new grave.

"I didn't really know him. Only ever spoke regarding my family's sponsorship." The man sounded almost cheerful, but without any of the joy. It was a strange tone that he could only barely describe.

 "So, I'm not quite sure why I was invited to something as personal as a funeral"  sounding amused he turned to face Jonah, pale white skin peeking from the edge of his peripheral vision.

"I believe he wanted us to have a chat, Peter Lukas."  Jonah spoke simply, still watching over the stone before him, now completely soaked in rain. The pitter patter of the raindrops speeding up to a series of small splashes as the well fitting weather continued on. Ah so that was his name

"I see." He said simply, mild irritation boiling from the back of his voice. He didn’t seem bothered by the full name drop whatsoever which Elias thought was strange. 

"If it's about the connection between the Lukas’s and the institute I believe that it's sorted!" he clearly thought it was a waste of time and Elias agreed. Then again Elias thought everything Jonah did was a waste

Jonah had been running this institute for centuries; there was no chance he would let such a monumental sponsor go after one of his deaths. How many deaths did Jonah have? Well, lives. a good four or so he suspected.

Jonah chuckled softly, "I truly have no idea." he shifted the umbrella to his other arm while finally turning his head to see the man he conversed with.

He looked younger than he thought, he'd doubt he's much older than 30 something. The premature grey in his blond beard and hair certainly aged him however the lack of wrinkles and overall soft look clearly showed his youth. There was also an air of familiarity to him. Elias was sure he had seen that face before, although he couldn't pick where.

"I haven't had the time to look over all of his notes, I am afraid. been quite busy getting used to the workload, and just finding the paperwork needed. Despite being a neat man, his organisation is beyond me" Elias wasn't sure why he bothered lying. It wasn't like he actually didn't know. It could be a ploy to act more naïve? But that was a strange choice because wouldn't he want to seem like a good and smart choice? He wished the answer could just come to him but that rarely happened.

 "honestly, I assumed you would know." He spoke with a disappointed chuckle despite no joke being made.

"I see, I'm afraid I don't" he chuckled. Peter gave him a suspicious look.

"I see. How about this-" Turning on his heels he faced his whole body to match the other man, now ignoring the grave treating it like a meaningless ploy to meet up with someone who Elias was sure would have to meet up with him regardless 

"We meet again soon. Next week? if you are free that is. Wouldn't want to get in your way." He let out another humourless chuckle" We both bring any documents that may be of relevance, and, have a chat."  

Peter's eyes were squint in suspicion. Listening to Jonah's proposal while nodding slowly. "I'm pretty sure I'm available Friday. What time do you suggest?"

"Is noon acceptable?" He turned back towards the grave, a light smirk dusting his face.  

He nods as a response.  "I Suppose, I shall see you Mr Bouchard" before Jonah can respond he suddenly doesn't have anyone to respond to.

The fog that had surrounded them was retreating from his feet, leaving only the dampness of a putter pattering rain. Fancy shoes now drenched deep with a damp chill. Jonah had let his face to rest, forgetting the mark of a smirk to give way to a blank.

He tested his eyes on the now soaked grave for a few moments more. Elias wondered how the corpse felt under all that soil. The crushing weight of damp earth pressing it from all sides soaking it through. Lifeless and sad, only movement from the worms pushing their way up to escape collapsing. He imagined what it would be to be under the soil, his mouth filled with filth, breath taken and movement gone.

He internally shivered at the thought.  

Suddenly , Jonah turned and walked away. Forgetting the past life he faked having.

The crash of the water hitting the porcelain tore Elias from his mind. Hot steam immediately swallowed the air as the bath began to fill. 

Elias took a moment to absorb his surroundings. A pile of shampoos, conditioners, body washes, moisturisers and more, all neatly filling a shelf that previously held a bar of half used soap. The counter beside was matching filled with face washes, cleansers and even makeup.

The bath water was crystal clear with the blue of the wall reflecting an ocean hue on the bathtub. Small crystals of salt swam around glistening from the light. A pearl and gold bath bomb had been placed to the side, waiting for him. Elias hadn’t had this nice of a bath since he was quite young.

The bath had reached half way, just how he liked it. Jonah placed down the brush in his hand.  Elias’s hair now sitting loosely at his shoulders, softly grazing the back of his neck. It was in desperate need of a cut and evening out; the last haircut he had was self inflicted and had left him a mess. 

Dropping his robe Jonah slowly pulled himself into the tub, the warm water soothing his still aching muscles. The injuries sustained from that night in the tower still tore deep and had only just begun to heal.

He sat opposed to the facet. The metal reflected Jonah's gaze, boredly looking into grey eyes that don't belong. His skin was clearer now, his eye bags fading and he just looked healthier, more mature, better. Elias hated how much better of a Bouchard Jonah was. Elias was supposed to be like that, not Jonah. Elias was supposed to live up to his name. Why could Elias never do what came to Jonah so easily. 

God, his father would be proud of him. His own father would be proud of another man over his son. He always hated Elias, he was sure of it. No loving dad could treat his child  with such disdain. He was such a disappointment. He was almost disowned in college but his father had gone into heart failure and so he never got the chance. He was sure the rest of his family would’ve had they cared enough. 

He wished he was the man his father wanted him to be, a person who could represent the family name and pass off heirs

A spider now sat on the tap, hanging its string over where the reflection of his face was its small black body forcing his focus away from his mind. Immediately Jonah stood up, stepping out the bathtub, the water cooling rapidly as it raced down his body. His breathing sped up as he looked in the mirror. He was crying. Had Elias done that?

“What” Jonah said staring at the reflection. His eyes were reddening while warm tears stained his face. He looked like he was just sobbing.

Jonah stared into the air, focusing on something invisible as he carefully dried himself. “Elias?”

Oh shit.

“What… that should not be possible… how are you there- what?"

He didn’t respond. It wasn't like Elias could anyway.. 

“I don't understand…” he took a step back, leaning his lower back against the bathroom wall.

Neither did Elias.

He had assumed Jonah would realise it eventually but he didn’t expect this reaction. Throughout the past few weeks the other had always been so… collected. Even the memories from when he had his eyes removed he had only ever seemed like he wanted to get it over with. Never expressing anything above irritation. But now he was panicked, his eyes were wide and his hands were grasping tightly at his hair, strands of wet hair coming loose in his yet to be wrinkled hands.

After  a few moments he seemed to have a realisation “The web.. I see.” What was he talking about?

“Elias, how long have you been listening?” he let go of his head, taking a few strands with him before shaking them into the nearby bin.

He wasn’t quite sure how he could answer? Could Jonah hear all these thoughts now- “yes Elias. I can hear you” ‘oh. All of it?’ 

“For now..” he could tell Jonah was concentrating on something, he had felt him do this before but now he had begun to have an idea as to what that feeling was.

‘Why didn’t you, uhm, know I was here? Before, now?’ It was a simple enough question, thought Elias, maybe he could get some answers. Which Jonah could hear of course.

“It doesn't work like that. And even if it did I had no clue you were… I'm sure you have figured that out though.”

‘Hasn’t this happened before?’

“I-no. It has not “ Jonah sighed

‘Why can't I see your thoughts?’ Elias wanted to know all the information he could, something to use, maybe… something to escape.

Jonah chuckled at that “I have sacrificed a lot to get this ability, I’d be quite insulted if you had it out of nowhere” by sacrifice he meant the stolen life of others, how much of a sacrifice is it if you only benefit?

‘Why are you doing this Jonah!? Why to me? Why James? Have you stolen other peoples lives!?’ That name felt heavy on his tongue. Getting what were just floating thoughts out into… well not words but thoughts another could hear was satisfying.

“Those are not questions I'm going to answer. All you need to know is that it wasn't personal.”

‘YOU STOLE MY LIFE HOW ISN'T THAT PERSONAL’ Elias wanted to scream it but all he could do is try to think very loudly.

Jonah dismissed this comment, not even taking a moment to respond, before going back to silence. He was quiet for a good moment before he asked.

“Elias, how did you know it was me in here?”

…

“I see. well that's… concerning”

Both were silent for a moment, well as silent as Elias’s mind could get. Jonah had finished drying himself and was now just standing there with the towel wrapped around himself in deep thought. He took a few minutes before he began to dress himself and drain the bath.

‘What are you doing?’ Elias had been thinking. Well, he was always thinking, that's all he could do, but it was more focused now. On what this meant. He had just assumed he was going to watch the rest of his life lived by another until… well he faded away or Jonah chose another body. But Elias had cried. He thinks at least. He couldn't see a reason Jonah would be upset so it must have been himself.  Hopefully…

“Getting ready for bed" Jonah pulled on a plain shirt and trackies. They seemed like an odd choice for Jonah to wear, he spent most of his days in full suits. But everyone needs comfort.

‘Why?’ He thought Jonah was a supernatural monster

“Because regardless of whose it is, I have a body to take care of and it needs rest” well… now he felt stupid, of course his body needed rest. Why else would he sleep?

Jonah had climbed into bed, pulling the pure cotton sheets up to his neck. “Goodnight Elias, I’d wish you well but you know that would be a lie”

‘I will get out of here’ Elias thought quietly. 

“I'm sure you will” and with that he was asleep.