It would be so much easier, he knows that. It’s so much effort to resist, to play nice. To starve, to feel himself wither away, day by day. People pass him on the street, and he knows they have statements. Just one of them could keep him satisfied for a week, two even, if he stretched it. But instead he has to survive off reading old statements; they taste stagnant and stale, leaving a dusty taste in his mouth. They don’t nourish him. He can feel himself wasting away, under the foul gaze of the people he used to call friends.
So who can blame him, really, when Elias welcomes him with open arms. When Elias invites him into his office and there is someone else there, a Statement on their lips. When Elias holds him close as he drinks in their fear, feeling more and more human with every passing second. Jon will not leave when the Statement Giver has finished, when they stare at him in absolute terror. Elias will turn him, still keeping him warm and close and safe, as the Giver screams. Their cries will echo in his head, pleasantly muffled and vaguely sleepy. He still won’t like Elias – or rather, not like how he feels around him – but it will be so much easier. He will be content. No-one will be hurt, really. It will be alright, Elias will whisper in his ear like a prayer. He will finally give in. It will be alright.