Chapter 4
Melanie had been having a wonderful day, if you didn’t count the apocalypse ending only a few hours ago. The Admiral was purring contently on her lap as Georgie sat beside her furiously tapping away at a new script for all the cool deets about the apocalypse the general public didn’t know. Melanie was even happy enough to be a guest on the upcoming episode.
And then her phone started ringing.
Her ease did not dissipate the second she realised Martin’s voice was coming through the phone, perhaps it was consolidation that what was essentially their first conversation in the tunnels might not be their last. However Melanie decided that might’ve been nicer than hearing what Martin had to say. Her mouth formed into a snarl as a “What?” stabbed from it.
Georgies fingers stopped clacking.
“Everything alright?” She asked in that soft voice of hers.
“I-“ Pause, as Martin rambled on, pressing what was probably reason after reason Melanie should help into her ear. Unfortunately, it was going straight out the other.
“No. Jon’s gotten into trouble again,” she began lamenting, “Martin wants me to help dig him out of it or something. But as much as I enjoy Martin’s company, I am not helping Jon again. With anything. Bastard already got enough from me.”
Georgie made a little ‘hm’ before asking, “What’s he gotten himself into this time?”
“Good question,” she raised the phone to her ear again, “Martin, how is Jon fucking us over this time?”
Martin’s voice crackled over with a hardly veiled indignation, “He’s helping Elias get back on his feet. Melanie, I know you don’t want to but just one-“ Martin was not immune to Melanie putting the phone down again.
“Jon’s babysitting Elias, or something.”
“You mean Jonah?”
Melanie frowned, “No, I don’t think so. Martin always refers to Jonah as Jonah.”
“How do they know it’s Elias then?”
“Good question. Martin? How do you know it’s Elias and not Jonah?”
That managed to garner a few seconds of silence from Martin until he replied in the most unsure tone Melanie had ever heard, “Well, multiple reasons really. He certainly isn’t acting like Jonah would. Different speech and everything as well. He also doesn’t seem know anything about the Institute, at least not from the time he was technically the Head.
“Also… you know how Jonah used his eyes to swap bodies? Yeah, he doesn’t have any.”
“So thats why you need my help.”
“… I mean, kind of.”
Melanie’s thoughts were running a mile a minute, fortunately in the same direction.
“Listen Martin, I don’t care if it’s Elias Bouchard or Jonah-fied Elias Bouchard, neither of them are getting any help from me ever. They don’t deserve it and they never will.” She hung up, bubbling in a rage stew.
Reaching out for the Admiral, she breathed in and out in a rhythm, as Laverne had once said might help. The breathing never helped too much, but the Admiral, pushing his face against her fingers for chin scratches certainly made her smile.
It was quiet for a few moments before Georgie’s phone began to ring.
“Hello?… Look-... Fine… It might be a good incentive but-… Okay, I’ll ask her one time, but that’s it… Bye, Martin.”
“Was Martin calling about me helping Elias?” Melanie knew her voice had sounded stonier than what she meant it to be.
“Yeah,” Georgie already seemed doubtful.
“Well? What did he want?”
“Apparently, they wanted you to help for one other reason.” Melanie turned to Georgie’s direction.
“The thing is, Elias still isn’t all that pleasant. Martin said any time he’s a dick they’ll let you hit him. ‘Might at least teach him some manners’ or something.”
At this, Melanie paused. On the upside she would have the moral high ground over Jon and she would get to berate her oh-so-beloved former boss. On the downside, it meant hanging out with Jon and her oh-so-beloved former boss.
“One meeting,” she eventually decided on, “Two days from now. I need time to mentally prepare. And I get to hit Jon as well.”
Georgie’s smirk was audible, “I think that can be arranged.”
———
Jon had never been much for roommates. Too much clutter he would be asked to clean up, sharing a space with someone he didn’t like or having to deal with someone loud and rambunctious were all common negative drawbacks.
It was just his luck Elias Bouchard was all three in one. Jon figured this out quite quickly.
When discussing the dilemma that Jon only had one bed, Elias had immediately pulled the ‘I’m blind, pity me’ card again. When Jon refused to give up his bed, Elias threatened to spend the night eating everything in the kitchen. Whether the threat was real or not, the economy would not be pleasant enough to his bank account for Jon to go grocery shopping again.
Speaking of which…
A new downside of the Institute being gone meant Jon no longer had a job. Despite a few archival positions being open (it tended to be along the lines of The End getting to domains of getting buried under paperwork) he was not going back to a job that traumatised him, even if the archives listing positions wouldn’t get him kidnapped, threatened, stabbed, manipulated into ening the world or otherwise. And that went without saying he never even really knew what to do in an archival job.
He eventually decided he would just leave profiles on Linkedin and Seek and would apply to any job that would pop up with at least something he had some experience in. It turned out the hardest part was convincing Elias to be a reference.
“Please Elias,” He was not going to beg, even if their current roomie dynamic seemed to disagree, “You were technically the Head of the Institute and I spent too much time doing things like getting framed for murder to not be able to have at least one reference saying that I was at least adequate.”
Elias’ smug grin made Jon envious of Melanie’s upcoming task of beating the shit out of him.
“Oh, but that would technically be lying, wouldn’t it?” He queried with a look of faux puzzlement, “And gosh, Jon, I wouldn’t want to do that!”
“If you don’t, it’s highly likely that I don’t get work, therefore I don’t get paid and since you refuse to look for work neither of us will be able to pay rent or buy necessities and we’ll die out on the streets.” Jon couldn’t help spitting at him.
But it worked.
Elias froze and seemed to genuinely contemplate his rebuttal, until he relented, settling on a “Fine, I suppose I can abandon my morals until you get a job. But you owe me.”
“I certainly do not.”
As if Elias Bouchard had morals that a decent human being would have.
It had been a breath of fresh air when Martin and Basira came over for dinner the night before Elias would face Melanie King’s wrath. It was something Basira had demanded upon as soon as she had heard the news, even going as far as to pay for the pizza delivery herself. Jon wasn’t sure if it was her ex-detective reflexes baring their teeth, but it was probably for the best that someone other than him and Martin being able to vouch to Melanie and Georgie that Elias was not Jonah. He wasn’t in the right space to turn down better company anyway. The night had eventually turned into a police questioning, Basira demanding answers and Elias hitting back with snide remarks, until Jon cleared his throat.
“Right, um. If it’s okay with you, I think I need to go for a walk.” Basira narrowed her eyes.
“Why?” She scrutinised, apparently still in police-mode.
“Because I’ve been stuck with him all week and I need time away from him.” He retorted, gesturing at Elias.
Martin glared at Basira, “Go on, Jon. Take a break. Do you want me to go with you?”
“Sure.”
They didn’t end up going far, eventually leaning against the railing outside Jon’s apartment after 10 minutes, ignoring the sound of Basira and Elias bickering within.
“Can’t believe you trust Basira with him more than me,” Martin smiled. Jon’s fingers rapped the railing slowly.
“I trust that she has enough self-restraint to leave him alive.”
“How dare you! I have enough restraint!” Martin replied doing his best to seem offended, the laugh in his eyes giving him away.
“Sure,” Jon glanced at him, feeling his own face relax into a smile.
And it was pure solace in a night sky.
“You really are doing your best, aren’t you?” Martin finally said. It took a moment for Jon to realise what he was referring to.
“Yeah. I think… I think I’m too used to holding up the pedestal I’m standing on. You know, thinking I have to meet everyone’s expectations of me. So I’m trying not to anymore.”
Martin took a breath in, “Well, good. You deserve a break.”
“So do you,” he replied, “Thank you. For putting up with me”
“Any time”