2025-03-09 13:52:45 ¶ ●

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God sci fi au makes me insane. Jon telling elias "do you ever wish this could last forever?" Once, when hes tired and lonely and his memories of his life on earth are too loud. The knowledge he's going to fit in even less there. Just thinking about

Jon: Will you be alright, then?

Elias: Hm?

Jon: When we leave. Or maybe bored without people to torment.

Elias: Really Jon, you wound me.

Jon: Tough. Answer the question.

Elias: This is just how it is. I chose to be a machine. Humans have become something for me to watch, and ultimately move on from.

Jon: Hm.

Elias: What?

Jon: You're lonely.

Elias: What makes you say that?

Jon: Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't consider it sooner.

Jon: You'd probably be *less* lonely if you could stop killing us for ten minutes.

Elias: That's an exaggeration.

Jon: You're not denying it.

Just. Idk. I am thinking about Foreshadowing. And things that jon kicks himself for in retrospect. I like it when the horror comes from the fact jon knows exactly why elias did it.

Jon rewound the tape again, the same conversation playing on a loop, just the audio, Jon didn’t want to see himself through Elias’s eyes right now. He had found this recording while metaphorically stretching his new body. It turned out Jon could now access anything Elias had archived and saved, a little bright spot to being turned into whatever he was now. He had found a whole section of these conversations, little snippets of him and Elias. Rewind again, you’re lonely, what makes you say that, pause rewind again, he had memorized the words now, you’re not denying it.

Jon wanted to scream, well he had screamed, till even his new mechanical throat felt painful, screamed till his voice was gone, until he felt better, he didn’t feel better. Rewind, play, you’re lonely, Jon laughed practically foreshadowing, if such a thing applied to life. The laughing quickly morphed into sobs, though he still couldn’t cry, his breath hitched, and his shoulders shook but not a single tear fell.

Rewind, play, rewind, play, Jon couldn’t even throw the recording, it was in his mind, playing over and over. Worrying it like a loose tooth, as if listening to it would change anything. All it did was remind him how stupid, how blind he had been. Elias had shown him what he was time and time again, he wasn’t a kind benevolent ship, he was mean and selfish and cruel at times, Jon had just mistakenly thought he was an exception.

“Jon?” Jon didn’t respond, rewind, play, if he ignored the ship, rewind play, maybe Elias would get the hint. Of course Elias had never respected that before, he shouldn’t expect it now he supposed. He couldn’t even cover his ears, like the recording Elias’s voice was inside him. “Come on little one, don’t hide away where I can’t see.”

Rewind play, Jon knew he couldn’t hide forever, rewind play, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t delay, rewind Play. The worst part was he understood, he got it, of course he did. He knew Elias, as much as anyone could, he knew why, knew it down to his bones. Knew that Elias had thought of it as a gift, as Jon’s continued rejection as simply growing pains, a resistance to change that Jon would move past. Rewind play, and he would, Jon wanted to scream at that thought, but it was true, he would forgive Elias. They were a set now, he couldn’t leave, who knows what leaving the ship would do? He would be here for as long as Elias could keep him running in whatever form he would end up in.

Would Elias keep changing him? Some of him was still human, parts threaded through metal, would Elias take those too? Would they rot and be removed, those little ties to his former life, the few parts of him that were still human? With a deep sigh he closed the recording, knowing Elias wouldn’t let him hide much longer. Pushing himself to his feet the door sliding open, he pointedly ignored the little camera that was set outside the closet he’d been hiding in as it practically jumped to life focusing on him, the little red light bright and glowing.

“Jon-“

“No just, just stop,” Jon could hear the weariness in his voice, underlaid just slightly by static, damnit even his voice wasn’t really his. He grabbed his tools where he had left them, the little box at least was familiar. He felt so tired, but he could pretend, could play his part, and maybe that would be enough. “I have work to do.”