Chapter Text
St. Petersburg, 1845
Jonah and Jon walk close together in the brisk Russian air. Even during Summer the evenings are cool. Not that the cold bothers either of them too much, but Jonah still feels the wind chill on his face.
Jonah watches Jon closely as he takes in their surroundings. Jon’s eyes are filled with childhood wonder as he observes the crowds of people. He watches as people move from one area to the next in an almost coordinated dance to get ready to perform. Jonah too is fascinated by the costumes, but Jon is clearly mesmerized, not having seen anything quite like it before. They’d never gone to a Circus while in England and he can’t imagine Jon in his human life to seek out something like this. After nearly a hundred years together, Jonah loves that he can still amaze Jon.
Jon places a gentle hand on Jonah’s waist, speaking directly in his ear so that Jonah can hear him over the noises of the crowds and festival music.
“There’s a ballet to perform in half an hour or so, can we see it, Jonah?”
Jonah can’t help but feel the warmth in his chest. Jon hasn’t been this excited about something in a long time. The last decade or so has been complicated with Jonah’s efforts in aiding Smirke on the reconstruction of the Millbank Prison. They’d spent several nights, sometimes months, apart from one another as Jon stayed to work at the Institute.
“Of course. I’d like to scope out the performers– per Robert’s suggestion of course.”
Jon’s smile faltered but only for a moment. Reminded that they were there for business. Not that Jon minded working, but the mention of Robert lately has him tense. Jonah takes his hand to lightly touch Jon’s face, aware that they’re in public but still showing him a kind smile as a reminder. The gesture acts as it should, Jonah sfeel the sense of calm in Jon’s mind, the reminder that they’re there– together.
The two make their way to the main tent, sitting at the far back row as the ballerina’s begin dancing on the stage. Jonah feels Jon squeeze his leg, his hands fidgeting with excitement to watch the performance. There is no fear there to feed off of– at least what Jonah can sense, but Jon is enjoying himself nonetheless. The two can sit and enjoy themselves.
Robert had been borderline obsessed with the growing rumors of the entity known as the Stranger and its relation to the Circus. Lately, Jon had received several accounts at the institute– individuals would come from St. Petersburg to discuss statements about The Circus of The Other. Smirke did not wish to wait and sent Jonah to St. Petersburg for research.
Jonah then demanded that Jon too needed a vacation. He scooped him from Edinburgh and together the two traveled across Europe.
At first, things were more tense than Jonah hoped; Jon would find reasons to pick fights. Sometimes Jon would argue about Robert, other times some philosophical conundrum that mattered little, especially to them. In private, Jonah would try and relax Jon in all the ways he’d grown to know how. But Jon was always stubborn, and clearly not ready to fully confess his anger with Jonah about the Millbank Prison.
Jonah however, was patient.
“After the opening ballet, the Ringmaster is due to come on,”
Presently, Jon announces, looking at the small schedule at the front of the tent. Jonah nods, knowing it was the ringmaster they needed to pay attention to. Several of the statements he’d read from Jon discussed a man that looked like he was made of plastic, that moved in a way so uncanny that the audience would all often shift in their seats in fear.
There had been far fewer accounts that provided more detail about this ringmaster, Jonah assuming that only a select few actually lived to retell the events.He’d only appear at night, no one could ever recall seeing him in the day, even the occasional members of the staff. Some even reported that they’d seen him drink human blood.
Jonah feels Jon buzzing with excitement.
–
After a week or so of them traveling together and Jonah getting nothing in the way of Jon’s feelings, he decided to act.
They were at an inn for the day, often traveling at night and finding rest before the sun rose. Because it was summer, they had little time for traveling and spent many mornings in their inns reading, or Jon ignoring Jonah when he got the chance.
Jonah firmly grabbed Jon’s book from him and demanded that Jon look him in the eye. He didn’t often use the control of their bond, but did not like being treated like help. Jon huffed, but compiled without a choice.
“Shall we discuss why you’ve decided to treat me like I’m lesser?” Jonah’s words were soft, conveying more hurt in the question than he meant to. However his emotional display seemed to have an effect; Jon’s gaze softened and he pulled Jonah in for a gentle kiss on his lips.
“I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I wanted– I wanted to talk about the prison but hated bringing it up. And then I’d be reminded we were here for work and it’d anger me all over again.”
Jonah worked to his facial expression, simply petting Jon’s hair to tell him it’s alright.
“Is this something you’d like to discuss now? Or can I get you in a better mood first?”
Jon didn’t answer with words, he smiled and let himself fall back on the bed. Jonah took the very obvious hint and immediately moved his mouth to Jon’s groin.
–
The ballet is lovely, and seeing Jon this naturally in a good mood adds to the experience. He feels the excitement in both Jon and the crowd as the ballerinas leave and the music begins to start the full performance. The ringmaster is due on stage and Jonah discreetly holds Jon’s hand, knowing that he’s preparing for the influx of fear.
Even Jonah senses the emotional change in the crowd when Gregor Orsinov walks on stage. He’s dressed in common fashion for a circus ringmaster; gaudy and bold. Not the typical style for a vampire but perhaps the goal is to hide in plain sight.
Jonah feels a pinch on his thigh, he looks at Jon who’s mouthing the word face. When Jonah really looks he senses more. He doesn’t smell human blood when he focuses on the center stage. But that wasn’t what Jon meant. When Jonah’s eyes narrow in and really focus, using the Eye to help him see, he has to stop from jerking back in his seat.
His face– is sewn on. He’s uncertain how exactly this man who is now speaking in an enthusiastic voice about the other acts to perform has this face, but he sees the scars through the Beholding. The stitches are jagged and uneven threads.
He’s wearing a stolen face.
Jonah doesn’t think that the crowd has completely understood, but they know that something about this ringmaster is clearly off-kilter. Before Jonah can say anything further, he notices Jon fully tense in his seat. He looks to see Jon’s fangs extended– eyes no longer focused on the center of the ring but of the crowd; his fingers twitch in Jonah’s lap.
“Do we need to step outside, dear?” Jonah asks, hand moving straight to Jon’s back to rub smooth circles. Jon’s inhaling the smell, entranced by the crowd of fear that they sit behind. Jonah sends him calming feelings when Jon finally looks over at him.
“I– I think so,” Jon says after processing Jonah’s request. They exit the tent quickly, and Jonah knows that Jon will need to feed before they can make any sort of plan.
–
“I think you’re hiding things from me, Jonah.”
The two laid in bed, Jonah’s attempt at relaxation had proven rather effective. He lapped at Jon’s cock until he’d been hard and desperate. The sounds that came out his lover’s mouth were too much for Jonah to deny. He sensed the tension dissipate with every roll of his hips.
Soon Jonah began to take more, spreading Jon open completely. His hands worked Jon’s body as he twitched and shuddered and begged for more underneath him. When Jon had been properly stretched open by Jonah’s touch, he moved his mouth off of Jon’s cock and entered him. Jonah’s cock already hard and aching from lack of stimulation.
Jon was beautiful as Jonah gripped his hips. He called out Jonah’s name, begged for him to go faster, deeper, to fill him up. Jonah knew their lack of time together had Jon pent up. Jonah happily obliged, placing gentle kisses on Jon’s body as Jon began to stroke his own cock. He let Jon guide the pace, simply enjoying the closeness they shared.
Jon came shortly after, hands gripped tightly around Jonah, calling out his name so loudly Jonah was thankful it was the middle of the day and likely fewer people were staying at an Inn at this hour. Not that he truly cared, but he didn’t feel like getting up and killing staff members for making them keep quiet. Not when Jon was dripping sweat and moaning underneath him in a way Jonah hadn’t seen in months.
Jonah came soon after, filling Jon up and grunting into his skin. His entire body shook in the sensation and Jon held him tightly through it. Jonah provided Jon with waves of love, adoration, and worship as he caught his breath.
They laid there for a long time, hands constantly on one another and eyes never looking away.
Then Jon, finally in a state of relaxation, admitted that he didn’t trust him. Jonah felt the anxiety form in the pit of his stomach, as it had so many times when Jon accused him of lying. How part of him was desperate to tell Jon that he was right– but it was for them. He couldn’t, so he sighed and sat up from the bed, looking away from Jon.
“Why can’t you tell me what you’re up to with Smirke? Why is the Millbank Prison so important?”
The compulsion hit Jonah in a wave of over stimulation. He grabbed tightly onto the sheets, carefully choosing how he could answer to satisfy the tingling sensation rolling throughout his body.
“The prison is needed for serving our patron, Jon.”
“And Smirke doesn’t know?”
“He knows enough.”
“And you think that I should know the same as him?”
Jonah sighed, the words hurt. He turned to look at Jon still laying unclothed but covered in the sheet. His eyes glistened with the threat of tears. Jonah touched Jon’s cheek.
“I think that you should trust me.” Jon wasn’t the only vampire with abilities– granted Jonah wasn’t gifted the compulsion by Beholding but he had his other tactics. The sire bond in Jonah’s words taking over Jon almost immediately. He watched the anger dissipate from Jon’s eyes, he relaxed back into the bed.
Jon just nodded.
They didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the journey. And after another day or so, things felt back to normal.
–
Jon’s shaking by the time they leave the tent. Jonah recalls their last few evenings together and realizes that he hadn’t been feeding like he should. That they were too excited to get to the Circus that while Jon drank blood, his role as the Archivist now made him just as dependent on fear.
“There’s a uh– a member of the staff. Not far from here, they can tell us about the ringmaster I believe.”
Jonah just nods, letting Jon take the lead. Beholding is telling him where to go, where it can feed. They find the man not far from the main tent, smoking quietly off to the side. Jon visibly relaxes when the two approach him.
“Tell me about this Circus.”
The man barely exhales his cigarette when his eyes widen at the sight of Jon and Jonah. He speaks quickly, discussing the recent changes of Orsinov. How he had encountered a clown in England– Grimaldi– and nothing was the same after that. Jon drinks it all in, eyes never blinking as the statement is ripped from his mouth.
When the statement is over, Jon doesn’t hesitate to pull the man close and sink in his teeth. He drinks quickly, knowing he couldn’t afford to savor the meal.
When Jon releases the man from his grip, Jonah sees Jon exhale the smoke that was trapped in the man’s lungs. Jon locks eyes with Jonah and smiles, passing the limp man over to Jonah.
Jonah drinks just as quickly and likely with as much satisfaction as Jon. He focuses on the taste of the blood, closing his eyes and enjoying the flavor– the strange decadent mark of the stranger and nicotine in the man’s blood stream. He’ll never need this fear the same way Jon does, but his own closeness to the Beholding has given Jonah an appreciation for the fear in a person’s blood.
Jonah drinks the man dry. When he opens his eyes to tell Jon he’s ready to dispose of the body– Jon is gone.
The panic sets in immediately, he suddenly doesn’t sense Jon anywhere on the grounds. That doesn’t make sense, they can always feel one another. Jonah’s entire body feels disconnected. He wanders around the Circus, mouth covered in blood but he doesn’t care, he’s only focused on finding Jon.
He calls for him mentally as well, begging Beholding for some sort of sense of knowing. He focuses, using the other gifts he’d still been working to perfect to scan through the eyes of others. He’s stopped by a large man, claiming to be security. The man is trying to ask Jonah– something. He can’t focus, he needs to find Jon. When the man tries to lift Jonah up and remove him from the area, Jonah kills him– not even bothering to drink his blood.
He searches for hours, eventually to no avail. The Circus is over for the night, and he’s causing a scene. Finally, he forces himself to return to the Inn they were staying at and recoup. When Jonah returns, Jon’s smell from their sheets is overwhelming. Jonah almost screams, but he can’t. He has to focus to find Jon.
–
Jonah returns to the Circus every night for a month, constantly searching for Jon. He can’t pinpoint Jon’s location– but Beholding at least has the courtesy of informing him that Jon is somewhere within the Circus. Every night he’s made much less of a scene than when Jon first disappeared, but he’s still frantic in his search for his lover. He’d written to Smirke– saying that he will indeed hold him responsible if something happens to Jon.
Smirke never writes back.
Jonah begins his search with his same pattern. He searches in every tent. On occasion he asks passersby if they’ve seen someone matching Jon’s description. Sometimes they lie and say yes, when that happens– Jonah just finds himself a meal. Part of him hopes that scent of blood and fear will pull Jon out of wherever he’s hiding.
Toward the end of the night he scopes out the quarters where the staff sleeps, nearly certain that Jon is somewhere in there. But he still can’t locate him. However, this time when Jonah finds himself on the grounds– something is different. The scent is faint but Jonah is absolutely certain that it’s Jon’s.
I’m here, Jon.
Jonah repeats over and over in his mind as he searchers through these makeshift sleeping quarters. The scent never picks back up and Jonah is left sitting on a cot in frustration. Until he picks up another scent– the ringmaster. Orsniov.
Jonah’s attempt at finding him every other night had been futile, and he knew if he were to massacre the entire circus in an effort to find Orsniov, he could draw the attention of hunters. But for some reason, here he walks, alone. Jonah growls.
Within a second Jonah’s in front of him, hands grabbing him by the gaudy waistcoat and extended fangs.
“Where is Jonathan Sims?” Jonah asks through clenched teeth, tone level but sharp. Orsinov only shows fear for a brief second before cocking his neck to the side and smiling wide on his sewn-on mouth.
“And why do you think I would know that?” Orsniov’s voice is giddy. Without realizing the action, Jonah slaps him across the face.
“I’d recommend you give me an answer,” he pulls a wooden stake from his own waistcoat and presses it firmly to Orsniov’s chest. “I have no qualms ending your life.”
“What is the Watcher doing here anyway, hm? Thinking of spreading the Eye to our corner of the earth?”
Jonah presses the stake further into his chest. Orsniov just laughs before he continues.
“If you kill me you’ll never find your Archivist–”
Jonah
Jonah freezes, suddenly completely aware of Jon’s location. Orsniov is unfortunately smart enough to see the look in Jonah’s eye and uses his momentary haze to free himself from his grip and flea.
Jonah knows he’ll have other opportunities in his long life to kill the Ringmaster before turning the opposite direction to find Jon. He’s in a tent, tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded.
“J-Jonah?” Jon calls out. Jonah lets out a breath
“I’m here Jon.”
He moves to the center of the tent, moving to untie the restraints. He starts with the blindfold, letting Jon look at him. His eyes light up at the sight of him. When he unties Jon’s hands, they’re quick to move Jonah’s face, pulling him into a deep kiss. Jonah pulls apart when he notices how lotioned Jon is, his entire body smooth and hydrated. He touches his arms for a moment, rubbing his thumb into the sensation. He looks to Jon, clearly expecting an answer. Jon bites his lip, gaze moving to the ground.
“They– they wanted my skin.”
–
Present
Jon sips blood from his thermos, looking over the follow-up notes of a statement he’s about to record. His mind doesn’t stay focused on the follow-up, he knows that once he hits record the statement will flow out of him anyway. He takes another long sip of the blood, avoiding reading. He doesn’t want to relive that fear of the Stranger.
He doesn’t want to feel that fear of being locked away and lotioned for a month, burned by sunlight in the earlier parts of his kidnapping just to test the types of lotion and oils effects to his skin. He doesn’t want to think of the creeping fear of this entity pervading his institute. He sees Tim’s brother clearly as if it happened to Jon himself. He sees that table sitting away in artifact storage– needing to be dealt with.
And finally– he sees Jonah. Not Elias, but the Jonah that rescued him from the Circus in St. Petersburg over a hundred and fifty years ago. The look on Jonah’s face when Jon found him after calling for a month, how Jonah placed their foreheads together and said he was tired of Jon trying to leave him. How Jon, through tears assured Jonah he could never leave him. Not when he was buried underground and not when he was taken away by this terrible entity.
He didn’t tell Jonah that he was certain he’d left Jon there.
His thoughts are interrupted by a loud ding from his computer. Jon checks to find another email from Sasha that week. A personal day. Of course. She’s in hiding, because she isn’t Sasha.
Jon sighs and sees the thing posing as her clearly in his mind. He shakes it off and hits record.
Jon reads the statement and focuses on Adelard Dekker, making a mental note to look more into Gertrude’s associate after he’s finished with the statement.
He reads the statement of Lawrence Moore, falling into the persona of a frightened man who did not recognize the cousin that his family insisted had been the same man all along. Jon felt Lawrence’s fear when he first saw another posing as his cousin. He reads about the table, the very same table that was delivered to the institute right before the attack.
The delivery men– calling themselves Breekon and Hope. But Beholding shows Jon the men as their true selves, part of the Stranger’s troop that they’ve encountered before. Jon recognizes them well. The shiver throughout his body isn’t from the fear from Lawrence’s statement. Jon tries to focus back on that, how it’s feeding the Eye and not terrifying Jon.
Lawrence sees the true version of the man posing as his cousin. Jon sees that horrifying sight posing as Sasha James.
Statement Ends.
Jon sighs and gets up to get more blood, forgetting to write anything down.
–
By midday, Jon ends up in Elias’ office. His own thoughts are too much to deal with by himself and he hates that he knows Jonah’s presence is always around– able to comfort him even without meaning to.
He walks in, offering a slight nod to Rosie. He has a thermos full of blood with him that he’s concealed with a straw. Elias is at his desk when Jon walks in.
“Have a seat, Jon.” Elias doesn’t look up from his computer as Jon takes a seat on his chase. He sips from his thermo while Elias finishes what he’s working on. Jon already feels calmer simply being in Jonah’s proximity. He bites hard at the straw, angry at how simple he is to soothe by one man alone.
“The table belongs to Orsinov,” Jon says finally, not waiting for Elias to finish. The clacking of Elias’ keys stops. They knew it was a product of the Stranger but confirming its relationship to Orsinov seemed to cause unease.
“The table Martin and Tim saw be delivered?”
Jon nods.
“The delivery men known as Breekon and Hope? A statement I just read confirmed they’ve delivered that table before. And they were involved in the Circus. With Orsinov– Nikola Orsinov now I believe.”
Jon pushes away the images of the two men enjoying themselves as they burned up Jon’s face.
“I see.”
Elias' lips are pursed in thought. Jonah did the same when he was thinking. Typically, he wore a polite, somewhat eerie grin. But Jon knew that when Jonah was truly contemplating and not somehow three steps ahead, his smile faltered.
“You– didn’t know?” Jon asks, sipping from his mug. Elias shakes his head.
“I told you Jon, I didn’t know about Sasha. “
Jon feels the sting in his words. When Jon first mentioned that Sasha was in fact gone, he could actually feel fear radiating from Elias. He didn’t know that wasn’t Sasha, the Eye hadn’t told him and he didn’t possess the keen senses of being a vampire any more.
He was reminded that he was human. Jon had licked his lips, and told Elias that he had to go. With continuing to cooperate with the police as well as try and keep Tim and Martin safe, Jon didn’t get a chance to tell the staff or talk to Elias about it again. They both had been too busy. Jon didn’t want to be reminded of that tense time where he spent months separated from Jonah either. He decided to do his own research then, now feeling like he could talk out his thoughts.
“I’m– I’m sorry,” Jon responds, knowing that it offers little in the way of comfort. Elias moves next to Jon on the case, taking Jon’s free palm in his and rubs his hands down Jon’s fingers. Jon continues, enjoying the sensation.
“But we need to figure out how to act. How to tell Martin and Tim to keep them safe. I have no clue why they haven’t left the Institute yet but we need to think of something. It’s– it’s not safe.”
Jon knows Jonah’s seeking comfort from him too. He tries to ignore the warmth.
“You should’ve turned me, you still can, Jon.” Elias doesn’t make eye contact. He continues looking at Jon’s hands. And Jon feels the humanity in him– how much he hates it. That he has anxiety, and seeks comfort. That he doesn’t have an upperhand in the same way.
Jon doesn’t want to admit that he still has him.
“That’s not a plan, Jonah.”
“Why not? You’re so worried about how to save your employees have you forgotten that I’m–”
Jon’s eyes narrow and he presses.
“That you’re what?”
Elias lets go of Jon’s hand, crossing his arms to his chest. Jon needs to hear him admit.
“Tell me.”
Elias shivers, hands wrap to Jon’s collar and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s deep and hungry, and Jon kisses back instantly. He feels like Jonah– mouth moves around Jon’s bottom lip the same way, bites slightly. Jon moans into the contact and wraps his arms around him. He kisses back harder, feeling the tears start to sting his eyes as he pulls Jonah in close.
And then he hears Elias’ heartbeat. And he’s overwhelmed by the smell of blood, the arousal heightening the scent. Jon freezes and practically pushes Elias off of him.
“I– I can’t do this Jonah.”
“No Jon, you won’t do this. There’s a difference.”
Jon tries to stop his fangs extending. He grabs the thermos, nearly empty of blood, from the side table and drinks it all in a long gulp. He takes a breath, closing his eyes and focusing on the smell of sandalwood, not Elias’ blood.
“You were the only person I ever want to protect and I’ve already failed you once,” Jon lets out choked sobbed, bombarded with the image of a stake in his hand.
Jon realizes he’s not seeing Jonah but himself. Jonah projected the image into Jon’s mind.
“That’s not fair.”
“I don’t care,” Jonah retorts.
“I deserved it.”
“You did.”
Jon sighs, making eye contact with Jonah. His grey eyes look sad, Jon’s certain his eyes look the same. They’ve been dancing around it, and Jon still can’t bring himself to say more. Finally, Jon speaks.
“I am protecting you Jonah. I’m protecting you from me. I’ll kill you and I can’t do that– again.”
Elias stands up, face nearly completely back to normal and sits back down at his desk. Jon knows how Jonah can be, he’s petulant when he doesn’t get his way. Doesn’t process his emotions as quickly as some might think, and he hates being caught off guard. Jon’s just wronged him and he knows that. And Jonah’s always had control over him. But that part of their bond doesn’t seem as strong. Jon wants to turn Elias again but doesn’t need to as he would if Jonah were still his sire.
Elias’ petulance just hurts Jon more. He stands up from the chase and stands over Elias’ desk. He can’t be sad about Jonah right now, he’s safe if Jon isn’t drinking his blood and that’s what’s important.
“I’m going to tell Tim and Martin about Sasha. About how she’s dangerous, about the table, and about how she’s gone.”
That Jon failed again.
“Do as you wish, Jon.” Elias goes back to typing.
Jon walks out without saying anything else.
–
When Jon walks into the Archives after meeting with Elias, he’s immediately hit with a wave of fear. He looks to see Martin (and Sasha’s) desk empty. The door that had been previously used as a supply closet (now for statements since their previous room had been a secret passage to the tunnels) is closed shut and Jon hears the voice of a woman.
Jon feels the sensation of a statement.
“You alright, boss?”
Tim’s voice breaks Jon from his trance and he looks over at the other man, who looks as though he’s doing very little at his desk. Jon blinks.
“I– fine. Someone in for a statement then?”
“Yeah. They should be wrapping up. She came in almost right after you left to meet with Elias. You'll never believe who she is. Melanie King, you remember the podcaster?”
The name definitely rang a bell. Jon directs his gaze back to the door and can smell the fear but something else. Another fear has marked her.
“Yes, I think I recall. Do you mind getting me when they’re finished? I need to speak with you and Martin.”
“Sure.”
Tim doesn’t have to get him, as Jon goes to unlock the door to his office, he hears Martin walking out with Melanie King. And Jon is right, there’s another fear strongly coming off of her. Jon turns around.
“Oh, Jon!” Martin calls with a wave. Jon’s eyes narrow in on Melanie’s leg. There’s a bullet in there– he can taste the metal but also hearthe sounds from it and into Melanie’s veins. The Slaughter.
“Uh– hello?” Melanie says hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable Jon’s staring right at her. He nervously shifts his stance.
“Oh apologies. I’m Jonathan Sims, head Archivist.” Jon doesn’t move to shake her hand.
Melanie nods.
“Yeah, my girlfriend said she knew you. Georgie Barker?”
Jon blinks, suddenly Beholding supplies him with the knowledge they’d been together since Melanie’s returned from what happened to her in India. She’d known Georgie through their podcasting circle, and Georgie– being the Georgie that Jon knew– helped her get back on her feet.
“Uh, yes. Georgie. How– how is she?”
“She’ uh– she’s fine? Said to say hi if I ran into you. Was honestly shocked I was coming here at all but well. Martin got all of that down.”
Martin is beaming next to her, as if excited that he did his job correctly. Or just that he’s back to having a job to do and a home to go to after that. Jon isn’t sure.
“Please tell her I say hello,” Jon says with a nod. He feels everyone’s eyes on him, something Jon would prefer to be on the other end of. He looks around, face red. “Is that all?”
“Oh– uh yes, I just need to make sure she fills out our form for the tape and then she’ll be out.” Martin runs back into the supply closet to get the paperwork.Tim takes the opportunity to get up from his desk, saying nothing to Jon as he walks out of the office. While Melanie waits for his return, Jon’s eyes focus back on the infection in her leg.
The door opens and he sees Elias entering the Archives.
“Afternoon everyone,” Elias flashes his usual smile that doesn’t match his eyes. He doesn’t look directly at Jon.
Martin comes out with the form then, handing it to Melanie. He gives a stunned look at the sight of Elias.
“Oh Elias, hello! This is uh– Melanie King. She’s finishing up a statement.”
“Ms. King,” Elias walks to her and extends a hand to shake. “Elias Bouchard. Head of the Magnus Institute. Charmed.”
Melanie shakes his hand, looking more disturbed than impressed.
“I was just leaving–”
“Certainly, I hope the staff has treated you adequately.”
“Uh– sure? Martin was– fine.” Her eyes flash quickly to Jon then back on Elias.
“I must say your reputation precedes you. I’ve been aware of your podcast for some time.”
“Oh uh– thank you? It’s been a bit of a well– it’s probably not coming back.” She admits.
That’s when Beholding informs Jon of how she got that Slaughter mark in her leg. He looks at Jonah who’s just nodding along politely.
“Of course, well if you’re looking to transition into a safer environment, we are looking for some assistance in the Archives.”
Jon coughs.
“W– what?”
Melanie glares, clearly offended. Not that Jon could blame her.
“Are you interested, Ms. King?”
“Y– you’re offering me a job?”
Jon notices Martin’s shaky hands– he’s afraid of being replaced. Jon fights the urge to roll his eyes.
“I am. Our pay is well above the median salary for the position, and you’d have the pleasure of being my first hire since I’ve taken over as head of the Institute.”
Sometimes Jon forgets how well Jonah’s smile can work on anyone. Melanie offers an awkward smile in return.
“Uh– sure? I’m between jobs at the moment and– and well, yes.”
“Excellent. If you follow me upstairs, I’ll get you started on the paperwork. Do finish that statement form though, I can wait for you in Jon’s office.”
Elias motions towards Jon and moves behind him, giving him a look that tells him to open his door. Inside, Jon immediately shuts the door and looks at Elias with wide eyes.
“Why are you hiring her?” Jon asks in a bitter whisper.
Elias keeps his same professional, too wide of a smile when he responds.
“Because we’re clearly about to be down a member of the staff.”