Another WIP from THIS list for @tosce-si !

Set after MAG 147 Weaver, it’s just a small scene I imagined of Jon telling Basira about it. Put under a read more cause I’ve decided to post the whole thing. It technically was finished so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Despite her reservations, Basira decided to let Jon have a moment to himself.

There was a slim chance of him having much extended alone time from this point on, all things considered, so she figured it wouldn’t hurt to leave him to it for the rest of the day at least. Not that she didn’t make sure to keep track of the door to the archival department and his office. Still. She tried.

Up until she realized that he still hadn’t left his office by nightfall.

She didn’t bother knocking, just pressed her ear to the door to hear if he was still recording. When she didn’t hear his usual cadence, she simply opened the door and stepped through.

Her first thought upon not seeing him was, ‘how did he get out? There’s no windows.’ Her second thought upon hearing him cry out and then a bang that was preceded by another, more painful, cry was, ‘he really needs to get a hold of himself.’

“Nice nap?” she asked as he appeared from under his desk, rubbing where he’d obviously hit his head, her tone neutral. The mirth at his embarrassment cancelled out the irritation at him not reporting back about Annabelle’s statement.

He rubbed at his eyes in a way that just drew attention to the fact he no longer wore glasses and stifled a yawn. “S-sorry. Didn’t. Didn’t mean to fall asleep. Annabelle. It didn’t… her statement didn’t sit well with me. Just needed to take a breather. Meant to tell you before-”

“I’m fairly certain your stomach troubles or brain pains are a bit less important than letting us know if Annabelle is someone we need to worry about,” Basira said. She tried to put some levity to the tone but the apprehension she felt made it fall flat. And fall it did.

“Yes, I get it, Basira, I’m a monster,” Jon said with an anger she hadn’t seen in him. It wasn’t out of not knowing something, it wasn’t out of fear of a situation out of control. “I died and some creature took my place. I. Get. It.” He didn’t look at her as he seethed, didn’t look at her as his anger dissolved and he dropped to his desk chair. “Sorry. I’m sorry. That wasn’t… um.” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his desk and massaged his temples. “It. It wasn’t anything I guess I didn’t already know. She’s keeping an eye on the institute, for whatever reason, and warned me not to go back to Hill Top Road. And a LOT of musing on free will. But that’s not-” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “I know you don’t trust me, but I swear that’s it. Satisfactory?”

Finally, he looked at her and she looked back. It was a staring contest neither won.

“Not particularly,” Basira said and Jon made a sound almost like a return to his burst of anger. “It’s not great that she has… I guess, a presence here? One fear entity watching our every move is one to many.” He furrowed his brow at that but it smooths out quickly enough. “But I’m not gonna take her threat lightly, so… leave it alone?”

Jon sighed and it was long suffering. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Basira hummed to herself and simply watched as he mindlessly tidied his desk. It was almost a lost cause for all the piles of statements he had on it, but clearly, he had his own method to the madness… and probably half the department’s mugs. Jon didn’t motion to move them, though, just picked up every pen he had strewn across his desk and stuffed them in a drawer.

For a moment she wanted to see if she could get him to actually show an emotion again. To know exactly where his limit lied now that he wasn’t foggy and upset. And he still hadn’t asked her to leave, either, so she knew that there was a likely chance she could still ask him some questions. Or at the very least was aware of his soon to be diminished personal space. But she said nothing.