If I thought Elias I was bad, Jon Sims is even worse. Never have I ever been more pained than by this man. I don't even think he's doing it on purpose, which is the worst. Elias at least is supposed to be intimidating. Jon is just freaking me out!
I am spending more time in storage now, tucked away in some occasionally well-lit corner while my coworkers, Carter and Margaret, avoid me like I am none other than Elias himself. I don't meet with him as much as he used to put me through. He says I have basics down now, which I think is just complete and utter bullshit. I have no idea what I am doing. Not to mention, Martin, Sasha, and Tim from the archives take me on walks sometimes, so that's actually been sort of nice.
I wonder if perhaps this is what it's like to have a friend.
"Are you busy, Helen?" Jon Sims: the fuel of my nightmares. God, what do you want now? He for some reason thinks I am some expert, and he's always asking me so many fucking questions. I would be in danger if he had more influence, but lucky for me he's still a little worm of a thing. My so-called expertise is entirely nourished by my own experiences tormenting others and reading. I mean I guess reading is a good thing. Elias wants me to keep doing this silly note-taking and report writing. I am not really sure it does much of anything, but the work is busy. Honestly, now that he's not breathing over my shoulder it is a little bit fun.
"I wish I was more busy! What do you need?" I should just give him my number. This is getting ridiculous. Why does he come down here so often? I thought Martin said he was incredibly rude. Well, Martin didn't say as much, but I have heard stories. Although, I hear Jon's been a bit off lately, something about being in a better mood than usual. He's still an ass.
I wonder at what point it is socially acceptable to have someone over? I guess Martin and them all seem so friendly with each other outside of work. How do I do this better? I occasionally chat with them, but it's a lot of them coming to me. Maybe I could find the time to stop by the archives when I need a break some time. Is that rude and disruptive? Should I care about such things? I wonder if I can just show up in Elias's office. No, but why would I do that? That would make me a glutton for punishment because he would probably just make me cry. No, better not to do so.
"What do you think of Elias, Helen?"
Excuse me? Speak of the devil. Must be some strange coincidence. "I don't know he's just my boss."
"You spend a lot of time with him though." Where is this coming from? Can everyone just stop looking at me so much? I don't like the scrutiny I keep seeming to fall under. I know I joined the Watchers, but I didn't do it to feel like I am constantly being stripped bare by everyone.
"I mean I answer directly to him." I should lie more often to people. I don't know where this conversation is going.
"Is he nice?" Jon scrapes a chair up across from my desk, making himself far too comfortable. I know Jon is very dismissive of a lot of supernatural and unexplainable things, but I wish he were a little more scared of this place. Ugh.
"Sigh. If you tamper with the meaning of the word, I suppose you could define him as such." No. I don't think he is nice. He's capable of going through the motions, but there's a lack of authenticity to him that I can taste, it leaves a metallic taste in my mouth. That might also be my overchewed lip.
"What did he do that has you so worked up?" What hasn't he done? I tried to ask him how his day was going the other day, and then he didn't even say anything. I know he heard me. He just continued on with his work. We're just both so painfully awkward. I tried to ask him for help on something, but I chickened out towards the end, and his name left my lips as not much more than a squeak. He did respond that time, but I really–I want to scream. What's his problem, you know?
"Why are you so invested?" This is not the first time Jon has spoken to me in regards to Elias. It's just more blatant this time. I wonder what his motives are. It could be paranoid of me to think everything is against me, but given the circumstances, I also feel it's fair.
"I mean he's a bit of an enigma. Can you blame me for being curious?" I suppose I can't. I can humor this at least.
"He's–I, uhm." He's infuriating. He intimidates me. He makes the nicest cup of tea I have ever had, but I haven't had many nice things, so that isn't saying much. I know he probably isn't trying to be rude, and I like the tea. If I say something, will he be watching? " I'm sorry, Jon. I'm not really comfortable saying." I want him to watch, and I also don't. I really have to sit down with myself and figure this out someday instead of walking these same circles.
"That bad, huh? You realize you are allowed to have opinions on your boss, even unfavorable ones, right?" Unfavorable. No one who has been around as long as he has does anything without motive. I am here for a reason, but I am scared that I cannot stay, I think. "I sent Martin to question old women named Angela who like jigsaw puzzles. Do you know how many people fit that description? A lot." This is true, and Martin is rather fond of Jon despite the abuse. At least, Elias doesn't have me running around like that.
"Yeah, but you actually like Martin at least a little bit." Jon is more approachable than Elias too. I don't know why I am telling him so much all of a sudden. I didn't want to. I don't want to. No, that's wrong. I do want to talk about it.
"You don't think he likes you?" I'm pretty sure he doesn't like anything. He just keeps things with use around.
"It's stupid. It's–I just don't know how to act around him. He makes me nervous, and I want him to approve of my work, and all he ever gives me is his criticism. I don't know how to change things. I don't know." I want his approval right. I really did trade my mother for him. He's not as bad as her I think at least. Why does it matter so much? I don't want things to happen the way my mom tried to make them. I don't want to be that person, and Elias has a plan for me too. I need more time.
"I could try to help."
What in the world does Jon think he can do? I look at him between blurred eyes, the air is hot in my chest. "I don't even know why I am telling you this."
He shrugs. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to people you aren't as involved with because the stakes are lower."
"Helen! Time to take a break from this dreary–What are you doing here?" Tim is draping himself dramatically against the door frame, and Martin peeks into the room behind him. His eyes go doe-eyed at Jon. Lord, they're disgusting.
"Ah, I was just having a chat with Helen here," Jon raps his knuckles against my desk twice, and I jump at the sound. "You guys should show her around more, get her away from her desk and all." I shift in my seat. Finally, he's leaving.
Jon disappears around the corners and Tim and Martin wait a few moments before tackling me with questions faster than I can process.
"Why was he really here?" Martin asks, pushing the sleeves of his sweaters up.
"Was he bothering you?"
"Have you taken a break yet?" After Martin asks this, Tim takes a sharp breath and practically yanks me out of my chair.
"You know she hasn't."
"Let's get you outside for a bit!" I've been taken hostage, but I don't mind it. It's sweet actually. I have gotten used to their antics, and I do appreciate the breaks. I also like Tim's laugh. Perhaps, I do spend too much time inside my head. Force of habit.