Jon gives him a tired scowl that doesn't last long since it's good to see his stupid face after quite a few days of... well, not. He hasn't seen him properly since new years, he's reasonably certain.
"Close the door behind you, will you?"
Less irritated, more just... wanting it closed, please.
His eyes flick over to the click of the recorder, but swallows hard at the knowledge. And then - then it's gone. His soft demeanor leaves and he returns to himself again.
"Alright," he says, clapping his hands together once. "Sounds good. I'll remember that. So. Anything else?"
He knows Jacobi takes it seriously. He can't get the memory out of his mind, the way his arms had turned from grabbing to holding. The look on his face when he'd walked away. The look on his face when he'd broken in that very chair and stopped.
For him.
He knows he made the right choice. He knows, inmate or no, Jacobi-
Jacobi will take care of it. He trusts him.
"No. No, just- just be careful. He's probably taking what he can while things aren't working properly. Don't be surprise if a certain name pops out of his mouth. He likes to hurt people like that.
And he will take care of this. There's no other way around it. He will take care of Jon. Do what he needs. Because he loves him so deeply that it doesn't matter what it is. Jacobi will sacrifice whatever he has.
"Oh good. Well, I guess a little taste of my own medicine won't kill me."
"I never said she was," he says quietly, "but he will use her on what is. Honestly, I'm mostly hoping he's so spoiled for choice he doesn't get too much from anyone. When it was the lot of us in the Archives, it was a small group. Easy to watch."
"Oh you get stupid when people you care about get hurt? You do? Sure. Okay. Yeah. Buddy, we're in this together. And I'm not going to let him dictate my life. I'm tired of megalomaniacal assholes telling me what to do and forcing me to act a certain way."
Jacobi makes the same face. "Ugh, Jon! I wasn't going there, and I was perfectly happy thinking of him as a nice little Ken doll, but then you had to go and ruin it."
"Yes, well, I had to have an exhaustive conversation with at least one person on why you absolutely shouldn't, not to mention him and his little friend deciding to violate the single request I've ever made of this space, namely not to fuck in it."
He shakes his head.
"Then I've had to explain to Mr. Givens, his warden, why or why not he should consider giving the man back the bones of what was clearly his ex- it's just- ugh."
And he takes a moment to really digest all of that, then latches onto the least offensive part of it.
"Bones, Jon? What the fuck? Did he also ask for a bracelet of their hair? Maybe a really hideous locket so that when he dies, he comes back as a tragic Victorian ghost in a nightgown?"
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--
And a few minutes later, Jacobi's doing the very extra annoying knock on the door while opening and saying "Knock knock" with a knowing grin.
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"Close the door behind you, will you?"
Less irritated, more just... wanting it closed, please.
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"Ooh, so it's that kind of meeting? I mean, I don't think Warren would like it, and I'd rather not get torn up by Martin today."
He pulls over the chair and sits across from him.
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"Yes, yes, our sordid affair that has no name."
He settles in his seat.
"I'm- I'm sure you've noticed the current- the situation that's happening aboard. The Admiral's grasp on certain people's abilities going haywire."
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"You need to know how to- the weak point on someone like me. Someone like Elias."
He swallows.
"Martin knows, I'm sure. But there's- there's always the chance he'll be down at the time. And I can't-" He shakes his head. "it can't just be him."
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"Ah." He folds his arms across his chest. "Alright. So tell me."
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"Destroy them."
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"Alright," he says, clapping his hands together once. "Sounds good. I'll remember that. So. Anything else?"
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He knows Jacobi takes it seriously. He can't get the memory out of his mind, the way his arms had turned from grabbing to holding. The look on his face when he'd walked away. The look on his face when he'd broken in that very chair and stopped.
For him.
He knows he made the right choice. He knows, inmate or no, Jacobi-
Jacobi will take care of it. He trusts him.
"No. No, just- just be careful. He's probably taking what he can while things aren't working properly. Don't be surprise if a certain name pops out of his mouth. He likes to hurt people like that.
"I wish I could do more."
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And he will take care of this. There's no other way around it. He will take care of Jon. Do what he needs. Because he loves him so deeply that it doesn't matter what it is. Jacobi will sacrifice whatever he has.
"Oh good. Well, I guess a little taste of my own medicine won't kill me."
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"None of that. He's a 200 year old violent narcissist. No one deserves any of what he has to offer, quite frankly."
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"I... I might be scarce for a bit. The less we associate while this is happening-"
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"That's stupid," he says plainly. "Don't go all tragic hero on me. It's really overdone. Also, you don't have the right haircut for it."
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"Far more romantic than I've ever been. I'm just- I'd prefer he didn't target you. I get-
"Frankly, I get stupid when the people I care about are hurt. And no one needs me being stupid."
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He leans forward.
"Fuck Elias," he says with a laugh.
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"Ugh, I'm sure someone has or will. People here are remarkably stupid about that sort of thing, honestly."
But he'll laugh at the end, because yes, that's- that's a very nice idea. Fuck Elias indeed.
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Ew, Jon.
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He shakes his head.
"Then I've had to explain to Mr. Givens, his warden, why or why not he should consider giving the man back the bones of what was clearly his ex- it's just- ugh."
More headshaking.
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And he takes a moment to really digest all of that, then latches onto the least offensive part of it.
"Bones, Jon? What the fuck? Did he also ask for a bracelet of their hair? Maybe a really hideous locket so that when he dies, he comes back as a tragic Victorian ghost in a nightgown?"
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"...he kept them. in his office. and read me the last letter the man ever wrote to him from a Lonely domain."
It was fucked. up.
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