Who: Jesus and Eliot What: Sharing new memories When: Day 1, morning Where: Jesus's room Warnings: N/A Status: Complete
The morning felt mostly normal. Like every morning, Jesus woke up too early, and since it was a Monday, the first thing he did was get into the shower. He always woke up looking like he’d only just arrived out of the apocalypse on Monday mornings, with dirt caked under his fingernails, and his hair greasier than he liked to think about.
It felt like a normal Monday morning. He started the water in the shower, scalding hot to wash off a year of grime. If he’d looked in the mirror, he might’ve really registered the fact that he wasn’t quite as caked in dirt and grease, or that he’d put on ten pounds. If he’d taken more time to think about how he felt that morning, he would’ve realized there wasn’t the same gnawing hunger that usually came with the beginning of the week.
Instead, he didn’t notice anything different until, three minutes into his shower, he found himself on the floor, his head pounding from the inside, and from a bump and bruise he could feel forming on his forehead from where he’d fallen into the wall. When he came to, images he’d never seen but remembered in detail flashed through his head, and for a few minutes, he had to stay where he was on the floor processing everything.
Eventually, he got up off of the shower floor and finished washing off, still sorting through everything in his head. He’d found the Hilltop, and he’d been there for a year. He remembered his friends there. He remembered Gregory. He remembered a sort-of more than a friend that wasn’t working out because he couldn’t figure out how to stay in one place.
For the first time since he got to the hotel, rather than stay up and get himself some food, or run through the hallways, or any of the number of things he did to keep his mind off of the overflow of anxious energy he always had- Jesus went back to bed. It was still early, and Eliot probably wouldn’t be up for a few hours, anyway. He hadn’t even really meant to fall back asleep, but even while he stared at the ceiling letting the new memories go through his head, he drifted back off again.
Eliot knocked on Jesus’s door. Breakfast wasn’t anything fancy, but it was on a tray and the magician had brought a lot of it. Fruit, bacon, eggs, pancakes, and coffee. It wasn’t just a lack of fancy, it was a lack of Eliot’s usual presentation. He’d done everything without the use of magic. Having remembered magic being gone, he worried it might be gone for him in the hotel. Given all the other memories he did his best to ignore, that bit of bad news was something he preferred to put off.
“Room service,” Eliot called. There was a chance Jesus was doing laundry or any number of other things. Eliot waited to make sure he wasn’t in his room first.
Jesus jolted awake when he heard the knock at his door. His head still hurt, both from hitting it and the lingering headache left behind by his surge of memories, but he ignored it and rolled out of bed. Even before Eliot announced himself, Jesus had a feeling he knew who it was, which was why he didn’t bother putting on anything over just his boxers when he went to open the door.
“Hey,” he greeted, and despite his headache or how many memories he had to sort through, he leaned up to kiss Eliot in greeting. That still felt normal to him. The hotel was still his sort-of normal, even with his new memories. “Come on in.” He grabbed a piece of bacon as Eliot walked by, and if he noticed the presentation was different, he didn’t say anything about it. “What time is it? I managed to sleep later than you.” Sort of. Ignoring when he’d originally woken up, anyway.
“Which I think is technically impossible,” Eliot said with a smirk. Since he hadn't attempted the balcony route to break into Jesus’s room, something Eliot was far less eager to go than Jesus was, Eliot couldn't technically serve Jesus breakfast in bed. He tried backing Jesus up to at least sit at the bed to eat anyway.
“Everything alright?” Eliot asked. It was easier to focus on Jesus and not think about his own situation. “I mean, besides the haunted mansion motif outside. I'm going to be optimistic and hope maybe the hotel is just redecorating this week while also mentally preparing myself for obnoxious fuckery.”
Jesus let himself be backed up towards the bed and sat down, shifting back onto it so he could fold his legs underneath himself.
“Yeah, it’s just… been a weird morning,” he said, finishing off his piece of bacon and reaching for one of the mugs of coffee. Weird was one way to put it. “I haven’t been outside of my room yet.” He sipped from his mug slowly, grateful to have some coffee to help clear his head. “But I saw the woods outside. Are we talking Disney haunted mansion, or horror movie?”
“Disney horror movie,” Eliot said. Maybe he should have pushed about why Jesus slept in, but it struck him as terribly hypocritical to do so. All he wanted as a nice rest of his morning with his mostly undressed boyfriend. He took a mug of coffee and sipped.
“Tons of ghosts but they’re more like the ghosts in a Harry Potter book than-- well I was going to say actual ghost but I guess these are also technically actually ghosts. Portraits follow you and watch, also very Harry Potter but with a creepy Disney family friendly slant.
“The last time there were creepy woods outside, it turned a bunch of people into werewolves and vampires. I was one of the lucky ones that remained human in the middle of it.” Eliot picked up a pear and bit into it. “Mm. Pear really is the most underrated of the fruits.”
Eliot chewed, decided he didn't like the quiet and kept on talking after he swallowed. “Anyway, standard clause applies. If the hotel turns you into a werewolf or a frontier Mormon and you try to kill me or whatever, you’re preemptively forgiven and I’ll see you next week.”
Jesus picked up a fork so he could start eating some eggs. Food, coffee, and conversation were helping with his headache, and helping him get used to the new memories in his head. The real problem was he didn’t really know what to do with them, now. It wasn’t like it made much of a difference to his current situation.
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” he said, and shrugged- but then immediately leaned over to knock on the nearest wooden object, his nightstand. “Fingers crossed. I promise I won’t try to kill you, but if I do, I won’t be offended if you kill me.” Making light of it made it a little easier to swallow. “And I won’t hold it against you if you try to kill me for no reason.”
The real difference his memories made was that he didn’t feel quite as frayed as he did before. Before, he’d just been getting used to being around more people again, and mostly wanted to keep to himself. It wasn’t like he was feeling like a social butterfly now, but he had a year of living in a fairly well-populated community for a year. It felt… different.
“So- I think I got some new memories this morning,” he said, still keeping his tone casual. They didn’t talk about their lives outside of the hotel, because it was just easier not to, but he’d feel weird not at least mentioning it. “I wish they would’ve happened while I was sleeping or something. I fell in the shower, instead.” He rolled his eyes. “Mondays.”
“Jesus,” Eliot said, not actually meaning to call him by name. “Thankfully I’ve been in bed when it happened to me. You need to learn how to sleep in. Are you alright?”
Eliot didn't just mean the seizure itself. But he didn't press about the memories. Maybe withholding the fact that he received his own memories that morning was unnecessary, except Eliot wasn't really prepared to think about it.
It was nice to be able to worry about someone than himself, even better since they were on the same world and Eliot was capable of doing something about it.
“Yeah. Whacked my head pretty good, though.” Jesus reached a hand up to tentatively touch his head, wincing when he felt the tender bump that had formed, and pushing his hair back to reveal the slight bruising. “Apparently I found a community of people at some point. The guy in charge is kind of a prick, though. Can’t really say I miss him.”
He drank some more of his coffee, then set the mug down so he could peel a banana. At least things at the hotel hadn’t changed much. Eliot was still there, and the hotel was still arguably a better option than where he’d been.
Eliot kissed just under the bruised spot before returning to his coffee. He didn’t eat much. “That’s still mostly good. I’m happy for you.” And he was, though Eliot tried to take another sip from his coffee to keep from betraying his own mood. “Your last memories of where you came from shouldn’t be having to make it on your own.”
The magician picked up a dry pancake and rolled it into a manageable finger food before taking a bite. “You want an ice pack for your head or anything?” Eliot offered.
Jesus nodded in agreement. That was how he was trying to look at it- that this was a good thing, that having new memories meant he wasn’t nearly as much of a basket case as he had been before. He’d always be on edge at the hotel, but he definitely noticed the difference in how he felt, if only because he’d managed to get more sleep.
“I should probably say yes, shouldn’t I?” he asked, smirking a little. “But I’m good for now. Thanks.”
In the few seconds that followed, Jesus could tell something was… off. Eliot was quieter than usual. Still just as talkative, but he was subdued. Shifting over, he nudged Eliot’s knee gently with his own.
“What’s up, Eliot?” he asked. “You’re not you this morning.”
“Oh. Um, I sort of woke up to a memory seizure, too.” He sipped from his coffee as he debated what else to say, doing his best to keep his face as neutral as possible. “My magic might be gone. I'm not sure what effect the memories have on us physically so… I mean you’re barely still in heroin chic model weight, and I mean that as a good thing, so…”
Jesus frowned a little, trying to figure out what to say. Eliot wasn’t wrong- he’d woken up having put on some weight, which wasn’t a bad thing at all. His clothes were all the same, though, except maybe a little cleaner, but not by much. And he’d still woken up desperately needing a shower. So things weren’t that different.
“Do you want to test it?” he asked. “Or would you rather just not think about it?”
Eliot sighed. “I don't want to think about anything.”
He felt guilty for saying it outloud but it was what he wanted. Eliot finished off his coffee and found he didn't have it to use as a crutch anymore.
“But this week has the potential for new levels of suck so I guess I should find out now.” Eliot swallowed and put down his mug. He flexed and worked his fingers. At the first attempt nothing happened. Eliot narrowed his eyes and focused. He was off his game. If he just tried again…
The lighting in the room changed, the air smelled heavy with incense and something like a fireworks display erupted from Eliot’s hands. It was beautiful, and just getting started, when the magician shook his hands and the room turned back to normal.
“So at least there’s that,” Eliot said.
Jesus nodded sympathetically. He wouldn’t blame Eliot for feeling that way, especially not if he’d really lost his magic. He’d never really be able to appreciate what that would feel like, but he figured it at least had to be unsettling. He finished off his own coffee, and ate a couple more bites of eggs, before deciding he’d had enough.
When Eliot succeeded in producing a spell, Jesus smiled, and leaned over to kiss the corner of his lips. That was a good thing, but he could tell immediately from Eliot’s reaction that couldn’t be the only thing bothering him. But he said he didn’t want to think about anything, so…
“If you decide you want to start thinking about things again, let me know,” he offered, taking one of Eliot’s hands and giving it a squeeze. “What do you want to do instead? Explore?”
Once Eliot started talking, he couldn’t stop. That was classic Eliot, at least. Though he still held back maybe a little.
“Q and I, and our friends, killed a couple of gods that were going to destroy Fillory. So the rest of the gods were understandably upset and turned off magic. Now Fillory has been invaded by a very large, magical fairy army and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not because I don’t have magic, because I’m not there. Okay, honestly, even if I was there I’m still probably pretty screwed.” He sighed. Telling a little of it helped, even if he didn’t mention all of it. “I am at a point where I have finally accepted this responsibility and… I don’t know what to do with those feelings because there’s literally nothing that I can do.”
Jesus didn’t look at all surprised when Eliot’s metaphorical dam broke, and instead listened quietly. That was something he’d always been good at, but now he had memories of people starting to just come to him with their problems. He was pretty sure it was the whole Jesus thing, and for the most part, he’d tried to keep to himself. He’d only just started to really open up to anyone at the Hilltop, and make friends…
“I wish there was an easy answer for you,” he said quietly, squeezing Eliot’s hand again. “But you know as well as I do there isn’t one, because you’re right. There isn’t anything you can do.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eliot’s hand. “Have you talked to Quentin at all today? Not that he could change anything, either, but if he had those memories too, at least you’d have someone who’d really get it, you know?”
Eliot frowned. Bringing Jesus’s hand up to his lips, he kissed his knuckles appreciatively. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. Um…” Because there was always more. Eliot’s brows raised apologetically, as though listening to the insane antics of what magicians did was burdensome. “...He sort of brought his girlfriend back to life. I mean, technically, she wasn’t dead, just a niffin, but… Anyway, I want to tell him that she’s alive, but I also don’t want to tell him that she’s not exactly grateful to be alive again either. I mean, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen either of them. They were on Earth and I was on Fillory when magic was shut down so, hopefully she’s adjusted?”
Eliot held Jesus’s hand in both of his. “I’ll just have to adjust, too.”
Jesus nodded, and leaned over to kiss Eliot gently, squeezing his hand again. His update hadn’t been nearly that bad. Jarring, sure, but the worst thing that came from his was leaving a group of people, and they wouldn’t be any worse off without him, anyway. Eliot was leaving behind a kingdom invaded by evil fairies. It was hard to compare them.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, trying to sound reassuring. “It… feels kind of shitty to say this, but we know we can’t do anything. The best thing might just be to… try not to think about it.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s not the best option. Maybe you need to stew in it for a little while. I don’t know. But it’ll be okay.”
Eliot nodded. He didn’t disagree, which at least made things easier. And that Jesus was understanding if he was upset for a while, made things easier. He tried to feel happier about it, but it was a harder emotion to force.
“Mm, I’m beginning to think I saved an orphanage in a past life to have you in my life,” Eliot said, smiling wryly in an expression that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Leaning in, Eliot spoke lowly, “I can think of a few things I wouldn’t mind exploring.” He placed slow, appreciative kisses to Jesus’s ear and neck, brushing long hair out of the way with his fingers.
Jesus smiled a little, bringing a hand up to run through Eliot’s hair. He wasn’t going to push Eliot to talk about more if he didn’t want to, and he knew the magician had his own way of processing things. It wasn’t always the healthiest, but this was better than some of his previous options.
“Lucky for you, I’ve got nothing on my schedule,” he murmured, tilting his head to the side so Eliot could reach more of his neck. He was more than happy to go along with whatever Eliot wanted to distract himself, because honestly, he could use the distraction, too.