[It's like reading Jonah's Statement again. That blind and inescapable terror in knowing just how helpless he is, how perfectly he'd walked the road this man had laid before him. He'd ignored every hand held out to pull him off of it, actively slapped a few of them away because at the end he could See. The Archivist's eyes are wide and staring past Elias as much as at him. His breath comes in short, fluttering gasps through parted lips. He can't look away, can't blink. Elias' words register, and he can't even refute them. Not really.
He'd been brought to another universe, and what had he done? He's started another archive. He's refused the people--Rafa and Aziraphale--who have told him they could potentially rip the Eye and its influence out of him.]
I'm... [He's sat forward in his chair, eyes fixed, but distant. His tongue feels dry, heavy.] I'm not yours. I belong to the Watcher, not you. You belong to it, too, Jonah. [Although, it does seem like Elias has far more control in their relationship than the Archivist with their patron.]
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He'd been brought to another universe, and what had he done? He's started another archive. He's refused the people--Rafa and Aziraphale--who have told him they could potentially rip the Eye and its influence out of him.]
I'm... [He's sat forward in his chair, eyes fixed, but distant. His tongue feels dry, heavy.] I'm not yours. I belong to the Watcher, not you. You belong to it, too, Jonah. [Although, it does seem like Elias has far more control in their relationship than the Archivist with their patron.]