Work Text:
The first thing he felt when he died, to his surprise, was relief.
Despite the knowledge that he had lost, Jon had saved their world and killed the Fears, and the Avatars along with them. Jonah Magnus, the smug, powerful founder of the Magnus institute, the man who was there when it all began, had been defeated.
Elias thought he would be more upset about it, to be honest. His pride had been destroyed, his Archivist had killed him and there was nothing he could do. But when he felt the weight of the world, the weight of the Fears lift off him, the gaze of the Eye finally sewn shut, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years.
He felt safe.
He did not feel any pain when he died. Once he shut his eyes, he felt the Eye close as well. And he knew it was over. There was nothing he could do to reverse it, but maybe at this point he was ready to rest. The burden the Eye made him carry was suffocating, the power and the knowledge overwhelming him and overjoying him at the same time. Now that the burden was gone, he didn’t really know what to think.
Right now, he just wanted to sleep.
When he woke up, it was cold. Not the type of cold you would dread to wait outside in, huddling under your jacket hoping it would help keep your shivers at bay. It was the type of cold you could go outside and simply stand it, taking it all in. It was refreshing, like putting a cold washcloth on your head during a fever. The world around Elias was grey. Stone and snow and fog. But when he turned around, he saw a familiar sight. The sea, stretching out for miles, maybe even forever. Harsh waves crashing on top of the ocean’s surface. The salty smell in the air filling his nostrils. It felt oddly like home.
But the Lonely was gone, and so was Peter. Why would Peter’s place in the Lonely be here right in front of him? And why did it feel pleasant, and welcoming? It felt nothing like the push of the Lonely, desperately keeping you away, keeping you isolated as best it can.
A small cabin, nestled above the rocks within the edge of the ocean. A thin trail of smoke coming from the small porch at its doorstep. A seagull, cleaning its feathers atop its roof. Elias looked at it, still not entirely processing what he was seeing. He found himself walking towards it without realizing, a strange familiarity with it keeping him from just walking away. He approached the stairs on the porch of the cabin, a rocking chair placed on the porch above. And a man, sitting and smoking a pipe. Quiet and calm, simply staring at the ocean in front of him. As Elias got closer, the man grunted.
“Jonah.”
Elias went silent, and Peter hummed quietly in thought. Elias simply stared at him. Was this the afterlife? It had to be. But then why was Peter here. This didn’t seem like his afterlife at all. It felt as if Elias had stumbled into Peter’s strange life after death. But Peter simply stood up.
“Part of me didn’t think you’d come. Frankly, most of me didn’t. I wouldn’t care either way, but strangely, the thought of being out here, alone, for the rest of my existence isn’t as appealing as it used to be. I guess it would make sense, with the fears being gone and all.” He laughed quietly. “It was bound to happen eventually.”
Elias held his breath and continued to stare at Peter. For once, he was at a loss for words. He no longer could simply see into his head and understand. For first time in a very long time, he didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know a lot of things. And it scared him. But it was also sort of nice, no longer having that burden of knowledge. And yet somewhere, he still felt a hollow place where the Eye once was. Peter walked over to the front door and walked it, leaving the door open behind him. Elias stood, staring into the cabin. Peter glanced at him. “Are you coming or not? I’m perfectly happy to just leave you out there in the cold.”
“I- yes, I’m coming in, you bastard.” Elias grumbled, stepping into the cabin, and closing the door behind him. The warmth of the building caught up to him quickly, and he let out a sigh. They stood there in silence for a while before Elias broke it.
“Are we dead?”
Peter walked over to the kitchen and began to start brewing himself a pot of coffee. “What do you think” he said, unphased by the question.
“What do you mean ‘what do I think’? How on earth am I supposed to answer that question? You’re the one here who seems to know what the hell is going on, based on how little you seem to care about all this” Elias squawked.
Peter set down the coffee pot. “What do you think, Elias.”
Elias stopped. He stared at Peter’s back for a long while, finally just letting himself take a moment to think. The rough woolen coat around Peter’s shoulders seemed the same as it always had been. The cabin was neat, and quiet. There was nobody else here but him and Peter. Was this really what death was like? He had expected something more… unpleasant, frankly.
“Why are you here?” Elias said quietly. Peter shrugged.
“Not sure. I don’t really care why, being dead and all. There’s not much we can do about it.”
Elias stared at the back of Peters jacket again. Peter had always ran away, left for months at a time to go vacation in the Lonely. He didn’t like being near Elias. But now that the Lonely was gone, Peter didn’t seem to care about Elias being right here. And now that the Eye was no longer watching over him, Elias found himself allowing himself to feel happy about that, even just a little bit. He had gone hundreds of years, being strong. Never letting himself show the vulnerable parts of himself whenever they threatened to escape. Being vulnerable only lead to more danger. Being vulnerable meant he couldn’t do what he had spent his whole life doing. But now, there was nothing more for him to do. No threat he must shield himself from. His walls no longer had purpose. But he found that taking them down was even more terrifying that the things that had led him to put them up in the first place.
Elias felt his breath stutter, his heart speeding up slightly in his chest. When he tried to chip away at those walls, even just a little bit, the flood of emotion he was met with was simply too much. He didn’t remember how to handle this sort of thing. He didn’t use to have to. When he felt tears prick his eyes, the panic set in. He couldn’t cry. It was childish to think such a thing, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t be seen as weak; he didn’t want to admit he had lost. He didn’t want people to know that he was just as fragile as everyone around him.
The sound of coffee being poured directed his thoughts back to the man in front of him. He didn’t know why, but Elias found himself walking towards him, and quietly resting his forehead on the square of Peter’s back. He didn’t know what to do. He felt the tears threaten him again, and he held his breath, bracing himself and forcing the tears to stay where they were. The effort of this was clear in his increasing breaths. Peter sighed but stayed silent. He did not, however, move away from Elias. He simply stood there, letting Elias lean against him in silence. Eventually, he slowly wrapped his arms around Peter’s chest, and let himself bury his face into Peter’s jacket. He stood there, trembling, pressing himself as close to the larger man as he possibly could. But he did not cry.
Peter went quiet for a little longer, and then gently placed his hand atop Elias’. He grabbed it gently and simply held it there, in his hand, pressed up against his chest. This sudden warmth from Peter caught Elias off guard, and he found himself gasping in another breath, desperately trying to keep the sob from inevitably escaping his lips. Peter sighed.
“Elias, how long has it been since you cried?”
Elias shuddered. “…I don’t know.”
At that, Peter let out a huff and turned around. Elias gasped as he found his face suddenly buried in Peter’s chest. He let out an audible squeak when he found himself suddenly lifted into Peter’s arms and hauled over his shoulder. “Peter what on earth are- “
Peter ignored Elias’ surprise and simply began to walk him over to the couch. Peter never thought he’d ever even want to do this, but now he found himself not so opposed to the idea, and it’s not like he had anything better to do.
Sitting down on the couch, Peter threw Elias on top of his chest, and simply held him there, staring out the window in front of him. The second Elias felt Peter pull him to his chest, he completely broke. The wave of emotion that overcame him as the first sob wracked his body was too much, and he buried his face into the crook of Peter’s neck. He didn’t want Peter to see him like this. He didn’t want Peter to see him, weak and fragile. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. But he supposed Peter already knew Elias was broken. He just didn’t seem to care. Elias wouldn’t say Peter loved him, but he certainly didn’t hate him, and liked him enough to marry him, loveless or not. And the way Peter held him ever so slightly closer as he began to sob into his shoulder told Elias that he may have cared a little more than he wanted to admit to Elias.
There was nothing waiting for them in the future now. There was no reason for them to shield themselves from the horrors of existence, because now there was nothing to protect themselves from. It was just the two of them, alone in the endless, salty sea. And the sea did not care if you cried. The sea did not care about you at all. And it was comforting, in a way. There was nothing for them to run from. There was nothing for them to achieve, for them to defeat. Their story had finally ended.
And after all these years, Elias finally let himself go.
