Work Text:
There is no such thing as total control, only varying degrees, specific acts, specific moments.
There is a sort of freedom in believing yourself to be controlled, to not have to hold the reigns of that control yourself, or fear their being ripped from your hands by a chaotic universe. It’s a lie Eliot learned in the military, it took him a long time to break the habit.
Control is a lie you give yourself to feel like the world has order, to make it seem safe. Total control is a lie, and Eliot has learned to steer clear of those who tell it to him. He controls small things instead, small moments. This fight, this movement, this breath he can control. He leaves the rest up to be caught from the air later. He knows what he can control and what no one should, what he can’t afford to give up.