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It's fine (fine fine fine)

Summary:

Eli Reyes was fine. He was fine. There’s no reason he wouldn’t be fine. Because he didn’t just see Jacob walk into the Redacted Unit, pretending to be Jordan, and if he did, then he definitely wasn’t just told that Jordan is actually dead.

or Eli Reyes is fine, he has to be.

Notes:

AAA, I love this podcast. If you haven't listened to it you definitely should. The tone is a lot lighter than what I've written but alas I write mostly angst and gay people.

This is just a small thing because I couldn't find anything about this podcast on here, and then I remembered I'm a writer and can do it myself.

Enjoy!

Work Text:

Eli Reyes was fine. He was fine. There’s no reason he wouldn’t be fine. Because he didn’t just see Jacob walk into the Redacted Unit, pretending to be Jordan, and if he did, then he definitely wasn’t just told that Jordan is actually dead.

Dead dead.

Gone.

Not disappeared under mysterious circumstances, unlikely to ever be found. Eli almost wishes that were true; it would give him something to hold on to, something to hope for, like Max with Silas. 

But no, Jordan is gone, and Eli didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

It’s hard to accept that Jordan’s dead; it’s especially hard to accept he died in something as mundane as a car crash, regardless of the circumstances that led to said crash. 

For as long as they’ve been working together, Eli has accepted that neither he nor Jordan was likely to live a particularly long life, but he’d always imagined Jordan going out on some big case, fighting an aberration until the end. 

But that isn’t what happened.

In a way, a sick, sick way, it’s funny. Jordan always—would always go on and on about how fragile life could be, especially when it was apparent his mom was nearing her end. Eli would sit and listen as Jordan monologued about how you could never know when your life would change forever, or end, it depended on the day. 

Eli thought those were the moments Jordan was closest to contacting Jacob. 

But now Jacob is here, and Jordan is gone. 

And Eli is the only one who knows.

The only one that will ever know. Because to everyone else, Jacob is Jordan, Kane, the same Kane that they’ve worked with hundreds of times before. 

No one else knows Eli’s entire world has shifted on its axis.

And it will stay that way. For as long as Eli can make it. He’s already lost Jordan; he can’t change that, but he hasn’t lost Jacob yet, and he’s going to do everything possible to keep it that way. 

He owes it to Jordan.

Eli opens his apartment door, walking into the dark entryway. An entryway Jordan will never enter again. 

He collapses onto his couch, pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes.

He wishes he could go back in time, to this morning, when everything was fine. When he was fine. 

He should have insisted on giving Jacob that ride. Maybe if he were there, he could’ve helped, could’ve stopped those people, stopped Jacob from getting in the car with Jordan.

But that’s not how the world works. He hasn’t even encountered an aberration with the ability to reverse the past. 

And not to mention Jacob almost died today, too. Eli doesn’t know what he was thinking, letting Jacob go down that manhole. He should’ve found some other way to explain things to him, any other way that didn’t involve putting Jacob in danger. 

The worst part is that Jacob was good at it. He obviously lacks the experience of his twin, but he has potential, and for a second, as Jacob was using that bug spray flamethrower, Eli saw Jordan.

And he hates himself for it. 

Because Jacob isn’t Jordan. He knows this. They’re their own people. Always have been. But in that moment, they were so similar, their determination one in the same. 

Eli is scared. There’s a reason Jordan cut off his twin; they both never wanted Jacob anywhere near this stuff, and it was safer for him if Control, whoever they are, believed Jacob wasn’t a weak spot for Jordan. 

No matter that he is for Eli as well, they knew Jacob would need someone, besides his mom, in his corner, so Eli stayed. 

But it was all for nothing.

Because Jordan is gone.

And Jacob’s taken his place.

Eli keeps repeating these statements, hoping they’ll eventually feel real. Or change. Preferably change. 

Jordan is gone.

Jacob’s taken his place.

Jordan is gone.

Jacob’s taken his place.

Jordan is gone.

Jacob’s taken his place.

Over and over again, until he falls into something that could be considered sleep. Maybe.

And then Eli goes to work.

And he’s fine.

He’s fine when Jacob’s skin is almost melted from his body, and he sees Jordan’s fearlessness.

He’s fine when Jacob is almost killed by the shoeless man, and he sees Jordan’s persistence.

He’s fine when Jacob is almost woven into the wallpaper, and he sees Jordan’s dedication. 

And Eli is especially fine when he hears Jordan’s voice in the forest as Jacob is almost eaten by a tree. When he sees Jordan’s kindness, the care he used to have for the rest of the team, before he got messed up with Control.

Eli is fine.

Jacob will be fine.

And Jordan…

Jordan…

Jordan would understand, would understand that Eli is sorry, that he’s trying. For him, for both of them.