2025-07-22 14:02:32 ¶ ●

It’s a temporary setback
or;
Elias has a migraine, and Peter helps makes it worse.

Elias felt it the day before. He didn’t need Beholding to know what’s coming. First, the sleepless night, then his vision suddenly swam when he was heading to his office in the morning. It quickly returned to normal, but it made him wary. Around noon, his jaw began to ache and his neck became unbearably stiff. He sighed, annoyed; suddenly, all the information that was filling his mind became overwhelming. Heavy instead of exciting, irritating instead of insightful. He put down his pen and took a deep breath.

Wonderful, he thought bitterly. Just wonderful.

He went home earlier. The waves of nausea hit him when he opened the door, and he cursed under his breath. He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights. He took a cold shower and went to sleep, praying that he was wrong and that tomorrow would be just fine.
But Elias was rarely wrong, so when he opened his eyes in the morning and the stream of knowledge hit him alongside with an even stronger wave of pain and nausea, he wasn’t even surprised. Suddenly, Knowing became painful and Seeing unbearable.
With another wave of information, Elais saw white, and heard a loud static in his ears. The world swam dangerously, and he was only able to close his eyes and wait for it to pass.
When the static went down to a low humming and pain became just a dull echo, he slowly grabbed his phone.
“Secretary of Mr. Elias Bouchard, Head of the Magnus Institute, how can I help?”
“Hello, Rosie,” Elias winced in pain, knowing that Rosie was a bit late today and was happy that her boss did not show up as early as usual.
“Oh, Mr. Bouchard. Is everything alright?”
“Not quite. I am afraid I won’t be able to be present today. Please cancel all meetings and fit them somewhere next week.” He said with a strain. His head throbbed, and he almost dropped the phone when Rosie answered, “Of course, sir,” a bit too loudly. “Thank you, Rosie.”

He said and ended the call, his head spun with the knowledge that she did not expect the call to end abruptly.

Elias closed his eyes and lay down; he wished the Eye would stop, he wished for silence, he wished for peace, he wished for mercy. But Beholding was not merciful. It filled his head with knowledge, jumping from topic to topic, from eyes to eyes, making Elias sick with every piece of information force-fed into his brain. He would beg if he didn’t already know it was pointless.

Beholding was simply doing what was in its nature; it was Elais’ body that was too weak to accept it. He curled down, breathing slowly through his nose, his world reduced to pain and static.

He dared to stand up after an hour of suffering, and the nausea hit him with such a force that he ended up on his bathroom floor, vomiting out his already empty stomach. After washing his face and drinking some water, he dragged himself back to the bed and stayed there.

He spent another few hours trying not to move. Trying, despite his very nature, not to be seen, and trying, for once in his life, not to know. Not moving was accomplished.
He must have fallen asleep because he was woken up with a cold hand on his forehead. He waited for the pain of knowledge, but it never came. As if someone attached to this hand wasn’t really here, a white spot on the map of his suffering. The temperature in the room dropped, and when Elias opened his eyes, he saw fog, and he welcomed it with relief.
“Peter.” He murmured, leaning into his husband’s hand. “You are off the ship.”
“I docked yesterday. You didn’t know?”

Elias sighed, trying to find words, but the only word he knew now was pain.

Painpainpainpainpain.
Pain was playing in his head on repeat.

“Migraine,” he answered forcefully after a minute. Peter nodded.
“I knew there was something wrong when you weren’t at work. Workaholic, you are, I was scared that you dropped dead.” Peter’s cheerful voice made Elias wince.
“Funny.” He said flatly.
“Hm. You are not fun like this.”

Elias’s heart skipped a bit when he realized that Peter might disappear any moment and take the fog that was shielding Elias’ mind from the never-ending stream of knowledge with him. Elias grabbed Peter’s hand.

“Don’t go.” He blurted out, and they both froze. Peter considered him for a minute.
“That bad?” He asked, placing his hand again on Elias’ forehead, and Elias let the fog creep into him; he breathed it in, his vision blurring and becoming dull. He sighed quietly, knowing that in a few seconds he would feel more side effects of the Lonely, but for now the pain od knowing and seeing was gone and only that mattered.

Soon, the cold became sharp and overwhelming. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but it did not help. He was alone. Of course he was, Peter left him and nobody was here, he was always alone and he always will be alone no matter what, he shuddered and felt pain coming back…

When Peter retracted his hand, Elias took a deep breath. He realized his face was wet from tears, and he shivered, trying to collect himself.

But the pain arose again, he was still so deeply and unbearably cold and at the same time definitely too hot. It made him want to vomit again, and the world started to blur into simple shapes and colors. Elias sobbed helplessly and look around to find Peter. And then Beholding hit him again with knowledge that Peter was not in the room anymore. He was alone, alone, alone, always alone… but that he will be back, Beholding supplied. Elias breathed out slowly.
Peter was back after a moment, and something cold was placed on Elias’ forehead. He sighed quietly; it was not quite enough to stop the pain, but it was helping. He glanced at Peter.
“Filled yourself, you bastard?” He hissed. Peter smiled, amused.
“Let the man have dinner, you were already a mess.” Peter kissed his cheek, and there was nothing tender about it, just cold, selfish indulgence. Elias sighed. “Can you sit up to eat?”
“So can I vomit it back on you? Gladly. ”
Peter chuckled.
“Oh, you are better already. Good.” He placed a pack of pills and a bottle of water on the cabinet. “Drink, I will make food. I assume we are not divorcing today? I don’t think you would have the clarity of mind to draw papers.”
“No,” Elias said, looking at him. “We are not divorcing.” He watched Peter intensely, waiting for the papers Peter had in his pocket. Waiting for him to wave them before Elias’ eyes and leave him like this. Helpless, ruined, desperate, and terribly lonely.
But it didn’t happen. Peter just smiled and nodded.
“Good. Then I will bring something that my husband is not going to vomit out on me if you allow?” He didn’t wait for the answers, just left the room, leaving Elias confused but… Relieved.
He spent the rest of the evening forced to stand Peter’s company and listen to his stories about Tundra. Peter only told the stories because Elias never listened and never cared, so the Lonely got a kick out of it, but it very soon became too much for Elias.
His head was far better than in the morning, but every word Peter said was becoming more and more painful.
“Peter. Shut up.” He hissed, and Peter smiled. Elias groaned. He was done with this man.
But then Peter lay down next to him, placing one cold hand on his neck, and Elias curled into him, pressing his forehead into Peter’s chest.
“The Beholding is not kind to you today.”
“It’s never kind. Is the Lonely ever kind?”
“In a way.”
“You are delusional, Peter. What Lonely offers is not a relief, it’s apathy. And you are clawing your way out every time you’re here,” with me stayed unspoken. Peter’s gaze became even colder, but he did not vanish into the air; he just brushed Elias’ hair with his hand.
“I guess we all have our weaknesses, Jonah.” He hummed. Elias winced and something curled inside him that suddenly wanted to cry again, to… to hide, something so distant and… So lonely.
“Fuck you.” He said, and Peter smiled, content, drawing him closer.
Elias could not sleep, so he just lay the whole night watching Peter sleep. It was comforting, for him at least. Peter woke up only once and muttered “creep” under his breath just to go back to sleep. It must have bothered him, the feeling of being watched, but he allowed it. Did not disappear… But when he woke up, he looked more tired than before.
“You should go. I am draining you.”
“Nothing a bit of fog cannot help. Head?”
“Better. Thank you, Peter.”
The stream of knowledge hummed in his head steadily but did not cause pain anymore. His head hurt, but the pain was dull and bearable. Keeping his eyes open was still a conscious effort, but it was also a need that Elias couldn’t fight anymore.
“Everything for my husband dear.” Peter looked pleased. “It’s nice to stay married for once, even if it’s just because you had a supernatural headache.”
“You had divorce papers in your coat.”
“Only to throw them back at you if you will bring up yours,” Peter shrugged. “I have to admit, Elias, that divorce began to feel stale. I think… Going back to the sea while still being married is going to be much more… Lonely experience than going divorced.”

Elias stayed silent.
If he weren’t so exhausted, if he weren’t tired and drained, he would just smile sharply and allow it. This little game they played. But he was exhausted, he was in pain, and he was tired. And suddenly the thought that Peter will be soon gone, on the ship, for who knows how long, still being his husband became… Unacceptable.
He stood up abruptly, and everything swam. He lay back down again. Peter snorted amused.
“There are papers on the desk. Sign them and be gone.” Elias said.
“That’s music to my ears, dear.” Elias felt a kiss on his neck. “But.. no. I am serious. I am not signing them. We are staying married.”
"No.”
“Yes.” Peter hugged him, “I want my husband to miss me properly. Is it a sin?”
Elias pressed his lips together.
“Fine.” He said, finally, “But you are saying till Monday.”
"Whatever my husband dear needs” Peter said sweetly, it made Elias sick. He was a model husband for the weekend.
Elias expected him to be gone when he left his dressing room, ready to go to work. Pain became only a memory. He froze, seeing Peter standing by the window in the bedroom.
“You are still here? "Elias raised his eyebrow.
"I wanted to bid goodbye to my lovely husband.”
Elias snorted and shook his head. Whatever fantasy Peter was living in, it was still playing in his head. And Elias decided to indulge him.
“Well. Goodbye then.” He said, kissing Peter’s cheek and leaning into his arms for just a moment. He put his head on Peter’s shoulder and sighed. “Don’t go,” he whispered into his ear.
And it was cruel, and it was calculated, and the worst part of it all- it was also true.

Peter shivered, drawing a shaky breath. Elias laughed when his husband disappeared into the fog and he squashed down the small pang of disappointment that appeared in his mind.

There was no time for sentiments.
He had to go back to work.