When the world went black, that should've meant the end of everything. Elliot had never believed in any kind of afterlife. Once you were dead, that was it. You simply... ceased to exist. It was a peaceful thought, actually. Much better than having to witness his loved ones go on living without him. It wasn't a wholehearted belief, though. The whole nothingness thing. In life, he hadn't shared the same depth of belief that his brother did in the ghost and spirit realm, but he hadn't completely discounted it. He was a skeptic, true, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a good ghost story.
Now, ironically, he was living his own personal ghost story. As it turned out, the whole pitch black nothingness was merely an interlude leading into the next act, because the next thing Elliot was aware of was the sight of his body, motionless and pale, on a bed in the infirmary. Rae and David were gathered around the bed, clinging to one another and crying. Elliot watched the scene with curiosity, the only emotion he could feel. He knew the scene should have had more meaning to him — that he was dead and people he loved were grieving — but all he could do was watch and observe.
Time passed much more slowly, lazily, in whatever realm he was traveling through now. The living moved in a constant state of fast-forward, images flashing by without pausing to let him catch up. It felt abnormal, this state he was in, not being able to focus on things. Doing familiar tasks helped. Things he'd done in life that he remembered.
Stocking supplies in the infirmary. That was familiar. It almost felt like he was able to interact with the living again. But no one saw him. They passed right through him. Ignored him completely. Except David. Except his brother. At first, he wasn't sure David could see him. Maybe he was imagining it — but what was imagination, really, in this ghostly state? Imagination and spectral visions were distant cousins, as he'd used to say in life.
However, David ignored him, looked right through him. And that hurt. The one chance Elliot though he had to connect with the living world, and it was a disappointment. His brother couldn't see him, which meant Elliot's last chance to say goodbye was gone. The disappointment, the hopelessness, made him weak, so weak. Making himself visible to the living, making his presence known, was impossible when he was in this state of emotion.
Familiar. Reading in his sleeping area. Calm, collected, even hopeful when he saw his brother approach. The conversation had been brief, but comforting. That was, until David started to get that look on his face. The look that said he didn't believe Elliot was really with him, that he was imagining things again. Elliot felt the swell of disappointment rise up again. If he couldn't get his own brother to believe he was really here, what hope did he have of ever being able to get a message out? That's what he needed. David needed to believe in order for the communication to actually work. Otherwise, Elliot would be subjected to repeating conversations he'd had and tasks he'd done so many times before. An afterlife of repetition was the worst possible fate, in his opinion.