I am filing away one of my reports in a cabinet in Elias's office. I take longer than I would have in the past. He usually does this. Before, I would meet with him with drafts, and then come back to him for review twice over. Only after level after level of criticism would he sign off on them, and then he would file them away up here. Then, when he had me do them on my own, I would bring them up here in stacks. He would still put them away. Now that he is gone, I do it myself.
My fingers linger over every inch they can. I drag out my moments in his office because despite his absence, they make me feel less alone to be here. I can feel him here with me so much better. I will not lie, I have had a couple panic attacks up here over the past days, weeks. I don't know. I try not to count the days.
The metal is cool beneath my fingers, but it is not chilling. It is refreshing. I smell sandalwood or cedar somewhere. I take a deep breath and sigh. I draw my finger over the area where Elias would have signed my report with longing. I wish I could see him.
I am tucking in my most recent report, my last excuse to linger at this area, when a voice interrupts me.
"Helen, didn't you used to go over these with Elias?" I never heard you come in. How rude!
"Yes, and?"
"It just seems to me like you don't ever come to me." Peter has been trying to assert himself over me more, as much as he can stand to socialize with others. I think his tolerance for people is getting too brave between his pursuits of both Martin and I, he should be more tired. Stupid old man.
He leans forward to peek into my reports, and I shut the file cabinet with a click. "Elias gave me full autonomy on these things, Peter." I turn around, so I can give him a proper gaze, something more Beholding than Lonely. "I don't need to come to you." Stand down.
"What a lovely thing to say to your interim head!" I will not be returning to the Lonely for any reason in the world that you could offer me. This is where I like being. Not that anyone else seems to care.
"What are you going to do, fire me?" The words leave my lips from a sharp tongue, one uncharacteristically forked today. Peter has a tendency to fill me with this strange burning. It is more than annoyance and not quite anger. I like to think Elias feels the same in regards to Peter and I because he certainly did not want to lose me to Peter.
"Do you really think you have autonomy? Do you even know?" I-No, I can't falter now. If I give him anything to grasp onto, I will fall out of step so quickly.
"Far more than you do, Peter," the breath that leaves my lips floats away from me in a misty fog. "It's sort of our thing."
"Our thing?" A chill emanates off of Peter in reaching tendrils, my heart cries out fighting to burst out of my chest. Do not falter for a single moment. Not in front of Peter. "He's got you hook, line, and sinker," the noises of his approaching footsteps are muffled by the influence floating in around us as he tries to overpower me. I have to be quick, be witty, know something, or do anything! "Doesn't that bother you?"
Of course, I am bothered. I want it to be real so bad, but I know I am just a tool, yet it makes me feel something like cared for. I can't give it up regardless of what actually is occurring. Nothing can take that from me. It is my choice to make.
"Don't you have a sailor to feed to the Lonely?" Humor. It certainly does appear to work as a go to for me. It is an easy thing to hide behind, and I am an expert at hiding the little things. "It must be hard doing all this multi-tasking."
"It really isn't. You could learn a thing or two." I am doing so well, thank you very much. Okay, maybe there have been a few anxiety attacks in the mix, but those are to be expected.
"Maybe some other time." I hope you die in the worst way you could imagine, Peter Lukas.
"I'll hold you to that some other time." I am sure you will. It does worry me, the strange relationship between Elias and Peter. I do not think that I am above that. Yes, Elias did not want to give me up, as if I am some treasured toy, but Peter is certainly something to him. Something more than me, surely.
I also know I will need to give Martin a chance to ground himself soon, so that time is approaching. I can stand-in for Martin for a little, but I won't enjoy it. It's going to suck the life out of me if I am being honest. I do need things to work themselves out, and a push will certainly be of some assistance.
Perhaps that conversation will happen sooner than you think Peter.
My heart races with Peter's absence and the cold rushes out of the room far too quick. I am so hot. Fuck. I knew it was coming, but I thought I had a little more time. I am shaking as I double check the lock at the door.
The world is starting to turn as I rush for Elias's chair. I stumble into his desk with a cry, practically tossing myself into his chair.
I am so so bad at this. I can't do any of it. I am trying so hard and the ground is just always giving way beneath me. I know I can do it. I have to be able to do it. Elias, please don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. How could you allow me to feel so much? The threat of so little terrifies me? What if I am everything that can ever go wrong all in one place? I always seem to make things happen in ways I don't want them to. I won't be able to pull this off. I wish you were here, and that it wasn't just me. Peter is so mean and annoying, and it's not true right. You have to care at least a little bit. I hope some part of me lingers on your mind for any moment longer than trivial.
Time flies in turns and straights, quick on the straights and slow on the bends. Every other power out there thinks this is a race, and the Beholding is taking everything at a walk. It is not about who can get there first, but how they get there. That is why everyone else keeps mucking it. Rosie is a familiar face to me, more so than ever before, and she is loyal to me over Peter. That is one good thing. She listens to me. It is nice to have at least one person do as I say here, though no one warns you how scary it is to direct others. Leading Peter to the edge of his cliff while letting him think he can have it his way is draining. It is not just Peter, it's monitoring Jon. It's maintaining something akin to friendship with Melanie. It's rebuilding pointless camaraderie with people who will be consumed by the power they feed or dive to their deaths in another. Oh, Tim. It is being involved enough to know what is occurring, but little enough to not be directly involved. Elias manages this much better than me, and he has been doing it for so much longer, but still. I suppose I do cry a lot in his office, and that has given me some comfort.
I worry that I am in love with an idea of Elias in my head. He has been cruel with sharp words and hard edges in the past, but, surely I did not imagine the softness of his tone before. I could have sworn he treated me with a sense of delicacy. Something to be enjoyed rather than a bitter medicine.
"Helen, hi! is Peter here?" Martin. What timing! He looks awful. More pale than usual. A bit cozy and frosty from his time with Peter. I should take the wheel for a moment. "Hey, Martin, why don't you head home? I'll take your position with Peter for today's rounds."
"Oh, Helen, you don't have to do that!" The sleeves of his sweater are scrunched up over his fingers. He really does remind me of myself sometimes. All the more reason to send him away right now.
"Go home! Get some rest." I tilt my face in his direction, and I can see him through my eyelashes. "Read a book." Take the fucking hint, Martin. Ugh, do I have to spoon feed you myself? I know you are capable of putting thoughts together.
A light seems to bring some warmth to his face. "Yes, yeah. Okay, I will do that." Finally. I think he knows for once. I can't have you lost to the Lonely. You can learn to straddle it however. That's the thing, this isn't all black-and-white. Sometimes you are involved with a mix, and you become known by the strongest attachment. Martin, you are still a scholar, aren't you?
A sharp tsk and a heavy footstep begs for my attention. Peter. "First you won't report to me, then you send away my best assistant. What gives?" The air seems to grow thicker, near suffocating, with his presence.
"Your only assistant. You haven't taken on anyone else." I take a breath that rattles through me, but I take it despite the struggle.
"I wouldn't mind taking on you." He smiles, a predatory glint in his eyes.
"Ah, but you seem so attached to Martin!," scoffing, I counter, "You just said he's your best."
"He wouldn't be if you were helping too." The retort is laced with an enticing salty sweetness.
"So it's flattery today is it?" Some days it's degradation. Anything to get me to try to turn to him. The words he says lingers, but he seems now to take a step back from me, unsure. Now. "I'll be assisting you for now. I won't promise anything."
"Wonderful! We have much to do, and I will certainly need your expertise." You don't have to sound so smug about it. No, really!
As much as I detest the thought of working alongside Peter Lukas, I know that I must play my part in order to protect the Institute and the future I want.
With a heavy heart and a wary mind, I follow Peter out of Elias's office, steeling myself for the challenges that lie ahead. Whatever trials await, I will face them head-on, determined to emerge victorious against the darkness that threatens to consume us all. Where Martin followed in Peter's footsteps, I walk a half step behind him. I could deign to walk beside him, but I will carry myself with less certainty for my sake.
As we make our way through the corridors of the Institute, the atmosphere grows increasingly oppressive, the shadows seeming to twist and writhe. I can feel the weight of his gaze upon me, his constant presence. Peter and I vanish into the spaces in between. He rushes ahead of me, testing me, and I must give in. What a cheat! I have to give up my half step to maintain a close proximity to Peter. The fog clears and we are walking through a dark and muddy-windowed building. What a lovely detour.
"I am so glad you decided to come along today actually, it just so happens I require your talents." His voice is smooth silk laced with subtle malice, sending a chill down my spine.
I swallow down my unease, but it travels instead to rattle around inside my skull unrestrained. "What do you need from me?" My question lilts up at the end.
"Call it some relocations. We need you stronger before we can take our next steps." Ugh, not you too! His eyes are so intense now, but they are not nearly as enticing as Jonah's.
My heart sinks in my chest. I will do it of course, but I will probably have some bad nights following. To defy Peter this is to invite disaster. No, I will keep things running smoothly, even if this is their cost.
