JonElias week, Day 5: “You have nowhere else to go.” | Post-MAG68.
Elias spends Jon’s ride back to the house stealing glances at him through the driver’s eyes, feeling a curl of satisfaction as he puts together his own idea of what must have happened in the tunnels, an idea that blooms closer to the actual Knowledge of the truth the closer Jon gets to him. He doesn’t indulge in it, though; for once, he wants to hear it first-hand. He wants to hear for himself, in Jon’s words, if something has marked - no matter how lightly - his Archivist tonight.
He’s already waiting, when Jon pounds on the door, but he waits just a moment more before turning the lock and opening up to Jon and the frigid January air.
“Good Lord, Jon.” Elias looks him over, concerned but assessing. “Come in. You look a fright.”
—
In the split second before the door opens, Jon is afraid. What if it’s the same as it was with Sasha? No, that’s stupid — the driver was fine. Jon thinks he was fine, anyway. He rubs at the back of his arm, hugging it tight to himself.
And then, there’s Elias, awash in gentler light than the street, and he's —
He’s himself. Jon huffs out a hard breath that puffs up in the air between them, and then before he can stop himself, he’s bolting over the threshold and straight into Elias, smashing himself into his chest and wrapping his arms around him. Somehow, Jon is out of breath. His lungs burn from the cold.
“You're—” No, not saying that, that would be insane. All of this, actually, is pretty insane. Jon straightens himself up, looks up at Elias. “Sorry, it’s just.” He laughs humourlessly, his eyes wild and his breath still shallow and uneven. “I’ve had a hell of a time.”
