#i've tried but i have NO clue how this fandom tags anything so... hopefully this works lol

[smallblueandloud]

on that bumpy road to love

summary: “And- you are?”

“I’m Eleanor,” she says, and holds her hand out. “I’m the Architect here.” The capital letter is obvious. “Welcome to the Good Place, Chidi.” 

(or, five times someone in chidi's afterlife was a really big weirdo and he didn't know what to do about it)

relationships: chidi/eleanor, chidi & everyone in team cockroach (although he doesn’t know what that is, lol)

notes: the song to listen to is 'they can't take that away from me' (the sarah vaughan version), which i like to think was comforting to eleanor during the course of this fic. behind the scenes, obviously. 

oh, man, this one took me a long time. i've had the idea for this fic since the season ended, and google drive says i created the doc in FEBRUARY, so uh, take from that what you will lol. i just really love the idea of outsider pov, and outsider pov + amnesia = the best tropes in existence.

check out the notes for the ao3 link! (which will include the italics as i wrote them instead of how i had to redo them for this post. i promise you, i’ll have missed some.) and feel free to like/reblog/leave the vaguest impression of happiness, like the faint notes of a flower’s fragrance on a summer’s breeze, on this post - i’m not picky. thanks for reading <3

1. Janet

Chidi opens his eyes.

He’s sitting on a couch, in a small, beige room. There are three notable things about where he is: a lot of potted plants, a door to his right, and big, friendly, green letters on the wall in front of him that read Everything is fine.

Yeah, right, he thinks, bracing himself for the usual anxiety spiral. The last thing he remembers, he was going to his friend’s wedding, and the fact that he’s here and not there means-

Nothing. It means nothing. It doesn’t matter that he’s at his friend’s wedding, because he’s here, and everything is fine.

Scratch that. There’s a fourth notable thing: the anxiety that has plagued Chidi his entire life is gone. There’s nothing - no butterflies in his stomach, no sweaty palms, not even an anxious rant directed at the plants. He doesn’t even have anxiety about his lack of anxiety.

He doesn’t know where he is. And he’s not panicking. He has to take advantage of this, immediately.

He’s sitting there, trying to memorize how it feels to just be without freaking out, when the door to his right opens. A blonde woman pokes her head out and looks straight at him.

(He doesn’t even feel the need to apologize for his presence. What’s wrong with him?)

“Chidi?” she asks, smiling. Chidi nods. She jerks her thumb behind her. “Come on in.”

As he follows her, he notices several things: a portrait of a white man who looks like a stoner on the wall, a bowl of paper clips in the corner, and the sheer normalcy of the blonde woman now sitting at the other side of the desk, which seems very out of place in this strange, anxiety-less set of rooms. What is going on?

He sits down in the only other chair (thank god for small mercies - no choices needed). Then he adjusts his position. Then he does it again.

“You okay there, buddy?” asks the woman, looking like she’s trying not to smile. Chidi laughs, sort of nervously, and realizes that the anxiety is back. Oh, great.

“When I opened my eyes, I felt really- uh- calm,” he says, hearing his voice get higher without knowing how to stop it. “And there was only one chair, so I didn’t think about- I didn’t have to- well, now the anxiety’s back? I don’t know how to-”

He can feel himself spiraling, so he takes a deep breath, drying his hands on his pants, and starts at the beginning.

“Uh. Where am I?”

The woman smiles, settling her hands onto the table in front of her, very carefully. “You, Chidi, have died.”

“Oh,” says Chidi, feeling unsurprised. That’s weird. Everything here is weird. Why is everything here weird?

“You’re now in the afterlife,” she says, and then frowns. “In the Good Place, that is.” She smiles again, and shoots him a thumbs up. “You made it! Good job!”

Chidi doesn’t know what to say to that, so his brain turns to the nearest thing to comment on in order to avoid processing. “They speak French in the afterlife?”

She laughs quickly, and for the first time he notices that she seems sort of nervous. “No, no, this place automatically translates whatever someone says into a language you’re comfortable in. I’m speaking English now.”

“Oh,” he says, nodding. And then: “And- you are?”

“I’m Eleanor,” she says, and holds her hand out. “I’m the Architect here.” The capital letter is obvious. “Welcome to the Good Place, Chidi.”

“...Thank you,” he says, shaking her hand, sort of awkwardly, because it’s just a little too close for him to stretch out his arm but far enough that he can’t really keep his elbow close, either. “I have- uh- a lot of questions? First, uh-”

Eleanor holds up a finger. “I’m gonna have to stop you there, buddy. I have a few more residents to get ready for, so I’m going to introduce you to Janet, and you can ask her all of those questions. She can also give you a tour of the neighborhood.”

Chidi nods, slowly. The Architect seems very competent, and he always does well around people who are good at their jobs.  “Okay.” He stretches out the first syllable of the word and pats his thighs, the way he does when he’s starting to calm down, and that helps even more.

Eleanor smiles at him, seeming to understand that. “Great. Janet?”

A woman pops into existence right next to her. “Yes, Eleanor?”

“She- she just appeared,” says Chidi, tearing his eyes away from the woman in the purple dress. He’s not feeling relaxed anymore. In fact, he’s feeling dangerously close to having a full-out panic attack, and he doesn’t like that. “She just- appeared, out of nowhere? In plain sight? Is that even-”

“Remember, you’re in the afterlife, buddy?” asks Eleanor. For the first time, her calm demeanor is starting to really crack - her voice sounds panicked, and she reaches out a hand as if to touch his arm before pulling it back, quickly. “Chidi? Can you hear me?”

Chidi takes a deep breath, and then another one, and then chances a look at the strange, physics-defying woman. She smiles at him, calmly, and that helps. “Y- Yeah, I can hear you.”

“Good,” says Eleanor. “This is Janet. She’s not a resident, and she was never alive - she’s just here to answer any and all questions you have, about- Janet, what is your formal job description?”

“I am the source of all information and knowledge for humans within the Good Place,” says Janet, in a calm voice. Chidi’s shoulders relax. “I can also provide you with any object as requested.”

“Wow, your voice is really soothing,” says Chidi. Janet nods. “I am designed to be as helpful as possible to both the residents of this neighborhood and the Architect. To do that, I have a soothing voice and no real emotions, so I won’t judge you for whatever questions or requests you may have.”

“That’s- thank you,” says Chidi, and then he realizes he’s still leaning away from her, as if in self defense. He consciously moves back to the middle of his chair and smiles at her, apologetically. “Sorry, I’m still not- uh- over the whole appearing-disappearing thing. You just- show up? Out of nowhere?”

“Yep!” says Janet, smiling, but it’s smaller now. “Just say my name, and I’ll be there.” She glances at Eleanor, looking almost nervous - she must have simulated emotions, he realizes - and the Architect smiles at her, reassuring.

“Oh. Well. Thank you,” says Chidi.

“It’s my job,” says Janet, and takes a deep breath like she’s bracing herself for something. Which is weird, because he’d assume she doesn’t have to breathe. “Now, just for safety reasons, I have to do a little checkup on you.”

Before Chidi has time to consider what that might mean, she’s right next to him, and she’s asking questions faster than he can keep up.

“How are you feeling? Have you ever met anyone from Jacksonville? What’s the last thing you remember? Do you feel in any danger of spontaneously bursting into flames? Do you have a strong urge to drink almond milk? Does the name Shawn mean anything to you? What is the Time Knife? What-”

“Janet!” interrupts Eleanor. She mimes a cut it out gesture, looking worried. He doesn’t know why she’s bothering. He’s confused, but he’s not going to panic again over just some weird questions. “Tone it down, dude.”

“Sorry,” says Janet, and backs away, her face starting to crumple into tears. “I’m just so nervous about this experiment-”

“Janet!” says Eleanor, her voice getting more urgent. “Stop talking.” She turns back to Chidi, noticeably forcing a smile onto her face. “Why don’t you go explore the neighborhood, bud?”

He hesitates. It feels like something’s going wrong. Janet seems to be too emotionally volatile for someone with fake emotions. “Is everything okay?” asks Chidi, frowning. “Didn’t she say she doesn’t have emotions?”

“She doesn’t!” says Eleanor, louder than necessary. “I don’t know where you’re pulling this stuff out of, dude! Just- go explore the neighborhood - here’s a map, okay, bye!”

Chidi finds himself unceremoniously dumped back into the room that he woke up in. He spends a few seconds standing there, baffled, before noticing another door, opposite the one into Eleanor’s office.

Time to go exploring, I guess, he thinks, and tries not to think about his diagnosis of directional insanity. He glances back at the door, where he’s pretty sure he can hear raised voices belonging to both Eleanor and Janet. They sound upset, although he can’t imagine what about.

He can’t stop thinking about how weird Janet was just acting. If she’s only supposed to be pretending to have emotions, why was she pretending to have such weird ones?

And why is she yelling at Eleanor now? he thinks, and then shrugs. He’s in actual, literal heaven now. Maybe it’s time he started to accept that some things are out of his control.

Time to explore, he tells himself, and pushes open the door.

-

2. Tahani

Chidi has a tiny apartment in the middle of the neighborhood, and it’s kind of perfect. Which is weird, because determining a dream home involves a lot of choices that he knows he would never be able to make in a normal situation and-

He’s just grateful it seems to have showed up out of nowhere, with no conscious input from him. Eleanor really knows what she’s doing, and it’s comforting to have something nice for once without having to go through the anxiety beforehand.

Speaking of which: the usual anxiety seems to have calmed down. Significantly. It’s not absolutely gone, not the way it was when he woke up, but he’s able to make small choices with almost no freaking out. His theory is that since Janet created the whole neighborhood and everything in it, he doesn’t have to worry about repercussions like supporting the exploitation of workers in China or giving money to homophobic business owners.

He’s not sure, though - so he’d asked Janet what she thought the cause was, since she knows everything there is to know in the universe. But she apparently doesn’t know everything, because she’d stammered for a few seconds before saying that residents tend to keep their emotional state from their last few seconds and that he probably died perfectly at peace.

Which can’t be true. Chidi wasn’t at peace for a day in his life. Plus, he doesn’t even remember his death because traumatic memories hinder adjustment to the neighborhood. Eleanor had refused to go into any sort of detail, which only made him more sure that Janet’s theory was wrong.

He didn’t have to tell that to her, though. She’d winced as soon as she said it and changed the subject to meeting the other residents.

“I have a few that I think you’ll hit it off with,” she’d said, her voice sounding conspiratorial, before getting his permission to invite two people to his apartment: Jianyu, a Buddist monk who’s sticking with his vow of silence, and Tahani, a former British socialite who’s planning a welcome party in a few days. 

“I’d host it tonight, but we still have two residents who haven’t arrived yet,” says Tahani, her gracious smile never wavering. She had ducked under his doorway with the same ever-present grace, but Chidi had gotten the distinct feeling that she was holding back several comments about how small his apartment was. “Isn’t that right, Eleanor?”

For some reason, Eleanor had tagged along. Chidi’s chalking it up to making sure no one starts off on the wrong foot.

“Huh- oh, yeah,” says Eleanor, studying the pictures on Chidi’s walls. “Where were these taken?”

“In my home city, in Senegal,” says Chidi. It’s weird that she doesn’t know about his decorations, given that she designed the whole neighborhood, including this ideal apartment. “That’s me and my parents. Why?”

“Oh- just curious,” she says, glancing at him, and goes straight back to staring at the wall. Tahani swats Eleanor’s arm, quickly, as if in reproach, and then looks back at him, her smile intact. Jianyu keeps grinning at her side. The monk had spent the first five minutes poking Tahani until she’d whispered something very fast and angry-sounding about pizza and he’d calmed down. “Please disregard her rudeness. I’d love for you to come to the party. It will just be a small get together, but formal dress, please-”

“Yes,” says Chidi, feeling slightly awkward. “Of course.”

“I’m so glad to see you arrived safely,” she says. How does she talk through a smile that big? “We were really quite concerned - strange circumstances surrounding your death, you know.”

“I... don’t, actually,” he says, slowly. “No one will tell me how I died.” He stops. “Do you... know... how I died, Tahani?”

She looks at him for a second, somehow looking like a very wealthy deer caught in headlights, before she laughs awkwardly and waves her hand dismissively. “No, of course not! How silly of you to think so. No, I only assumed- since, after all, Eleanor was so- well, anyways, it doesn’t matter much. You will come to the party?”

“Yeah,” says Chidi. He hesitates, but he has a bad feeling about the way that she just dodged his question, and anyway, it’s heaven, the anxiety is still at a low boil, and if Chidi can’t be a little rude here, where can he?

He takes the leap before he overthinks it. “Any other reason why you’re all in my apartment?”

“No!” says Tahani, brightly. She doesn’t seem terribly offended, just artificial. “We’re leaving now. Come along, Jianyu,” she says, grabbing him by the elbow. As Chidi watches, Jianyu gives him a wide smile and then bows slowly, before Tahani drags him out.

Eleanor doesn’t move.

“Uh- Eleanor?” he says. She doesn’t react. “Eleanor?” He reaches forward to tap her on the shoulder, and she jumps about a foot into the air. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, without turning around. Her voice sounds watery.

“Um. Eleanor. Do you... need anything?”

“What?”

“Tahani said there are still two residents who haven’t arrived yet,” he says. “Shouldn’t you be- I don’t know, preparing or something?”

“Right,” she says, turning around quickly. Her eyes are dry, which is slightly surprising for reasons he doesn’t understand. “Fork! You’re right. Oh, I gotta go,” she says, hurrying to the door. Right before she gets to it, though, she flips around to look at him. “Thanks for hosting us. I know Tahani can be a handful sometimes.”

“No- problem?” he says, curious despite himself, because it sounds like their Architect has known those two for much longer than a couple of hours. “How long have they been here?”

“Not long,” she says, and spins around just as quickly as she’d dodged his question. “Bye!”

Then she pulls the door open and disappears through before he can register what’s happening. It strikes him as odd, sure, but next to what just happened with Tahani - maybe not so strange.

I can’t believe I’m stuck with these weird people for the rest of time, Chidi thinks, and then, since there’s not much he can do about it, goes to see a man about some frozen yogurt.

-

3. Michael

“Ah, Chidi,” says Tahani, gliding over to him in a blue dress that could be described as a wedding cake, if a wedding cake could have an excellent sense of fashion and a British accent. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“This place is huge,” he says in response. He’s kind of incapable of saying anything else. “I’m sorry, I’m just- your house is enormous.” It’s not that he’s jealous, it’s just that - he’s taught in lecture halls smaller than this foyer.

“Isn’t it just?” says Tahani, beaming. “Well, make yourself at home!” she says, patting his chest. And then she moves away, presumably to welcome someone else.

Easier said than done, he thinks, looking around. Tahani invited every resident to her welcome party, and it seems like all 322 of them have shown up. The decorations are exactly tasteful, all of the attire is appropriate, and the music is perfect. It reminds Chidi of one of the fundraising galas his university used to host, only actually appealing; he’d always hated them back then, but tonight, he wants to get to know the people he’s going to be spending eternity with. So he puts his best foot forward and walks in.

Except, pretty quickly, he gets stuck in a conversation with a woman named Helena, who seems perfectly nice but has been saying absolutely nothing for five minutes. Coincidentally, Chidi has been silently discarding his ideas of being social for four and a half minutes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Eleanor and quickly makes his excuses, sending a silent thank you to- well, probably Janet, if anyone.

She jumps when he says hello from her left, and he sees that there’s an older white man on her right arm as she puts a hand on her chest and smiles at him.

“Sorry,” he says, smiling slightly. Don’t make me leave. “Didn’t realize you had a date.”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that,” says Eleanor, glancing at the man next to her, who looks like he’s just been handed a pin and a grenade, separately. “No, this is Michael. He’s- he’s my partner Architect. I’m the newbie and he’s the experienced one,” she says, laughing slightly. She nudges him. “Say hello to Chidi.” Her voice is gentle.

“Hello, Chidi,” says Michael, getting over himself enough to wave both of his (very large) hands awkwardly. “It’s very nice to meet you.” His smile seems strained.

He’s very tall, has glasses, and is wearing a grey suit with a black bow tie. The clear symptoms of anxiety he’s showing make him look very harmless. Chidi likes him instantly.

“I like your bowtie,” he says, trying to make conversation. Please don’t make me go back to Helena, he thinks, and immediately feels guilty.

“Thank you, Chidi. Although it is rather plain,” says Michael, and something in his voice eases the guilt. “But then again, we are mourning. Your deaths, that is!” His laugh is loud, but when neither Chidi nor Eleanor join him, it peters out quickly, before something else hits him and he raises his left hand like he’s a fictional lawyer about to present episode-changing evidence. “And it matches Eleanor’s dress, which itself perfectly illustrates the human concept of irony.”

Chidi glances at Eleanor’s completely black dress, which is sleeveless and has some sort of tie in front. He doesn’t recognize it at all. He also doesn’t get the joke, although Eleanor evidently does, because she hits Michael’s arm with the back of her hand, softly. “That’s not funny.”

“I guess not,” he says, his gaze settling on Chidi. They stand in silence for a minute, awkwardly, until Chidi manages to think of something to ask him. “How did you and Eleanor-”

Michael looks away from him, his gaze falling on something over Chidi’s shoulder. “Oh look, Janet needs our help!”

With that, he clamps his hand over Eleanor’s shoulder and rushes her away. Chidi turns, but can’t see any hint of their resident Google.

Consciously, he shrugs it off and looks away. His feelings aren’t especially hurt - if Michael needs to take a breather, Chidi understands more than most. 

Anyway, even though he doesn’t know who the last two residents are, he feels like he should welcome them, and hopefully save them from any extended encounters with the very odd people who live here.

Maybe they’ll even be slightly interesting, he thinks, and that’s what finally gets him to square his shoulders and start to search.

-

4. Jianyu

A few hours later, Chidi’s taking a break from wandering around the party. Everyone here is really nice, but rather boring, or as in the case of the two new residents, sort of annoying, and he has a bad feeling that the majority of intellectuals didn’t actually manage to make the cut into the Good Place.

He leans against the wall, thinking about asking Janet about where Kant ended up, and hears voices - Eleanor and Tahani’s, to be specific. They’re standing outside, he supposes, and this wall just happens to be thin enough that he can hear what they’re talking about.

“Eleanor!” says Tahani. She sounds exasperated. Chidi’s never heard her show so much genuine emotion, and it’s surprising enough that he leans closer. Against his better judgement.

“What, Tahani? What do you have to say to me?” hisses Eleanor. “How can you possibly understand-”

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself!” Tahani interrupts, sounding imperfect and unsmiling and worried. “You can’t, darling. You can’t keep watching that godforsaken video from Michael every day-”

“I do what I want-”

“You’re torturing yourself-”

“Well then, I fit in just right, don’t I?” says Eleanor, her voice low, and even Chidi knows that sentence was meant to wound. “Look, you need to get the fork out of my life and let me take care of myself, ashhole. Capiche?”

There’s a moment or two of silence that certainly sounds very stunned.

“I’m your friend, Eleanor,” Tahani says eventually, her voice quiet. “I’m your friend, and even if I may not understand, I’m here for you. That’s how this works, right? How we become better?”

Eleanor doesn’t say anything.

“It’s what we owe to each other, even if we’re all hurting,” says Tahani. The words sound vaguely familiar and he’s not sure why. “You know that.”

Chidi hears nothing, and then sniffling, and then something that sounds like Eleanor swatting Tahani’s shoulder. “You’re such a bench.”

“You know I’m right,” Tahani says. Her British accent makes it sound arrogant, even though he figures she meant it teasingly.

How long has she been here, anyways? Because it sounds like they’re really close.

“Yeah,” says Eleanor, and her voice gets quieter. “I guess I do.”

There’s a long period of silence. Chidi’s leaning closer, trying to determine if they’re just whispering, when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“I’m not eave-” starts Chidi, whipping around, but it’s just Jianyu the monk, smiling at him very wide. He’d thought he’d heard something about a vow of silence, but apparently that wasn’t true, because Jianyu waves and says, “Hey, dude!”

“Hi,” says Chidi, hesitantly. Something about this guy strikes him as weird. “Look, this isn’t-”

“How do you like the pizza?” asks Jianyu. “I asked for Tahani to get it so you could have some.”

“It’s... good,” says Chidi, feeling very lost. “Uh- why?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d remember pizza,” says Jianyu, as if it’s obvious. “Because you don’t remember anything else. Like how you think my name’s Jianyu-”

“Jianyu! Hey, buddy,” says Eleanor, from behind him. Chidi jumps - he hadn’t even heard her coming. “Remember what we’ve talked about? About Chidi and the other residents? We don’t-”

“We don’t talk about the Judge, or Mindy, or Derek,” says Jianyu, making a face. Then he brightens. “Or about me and my girl J-”

“That’s good enough,” interrupts Eleanor. “Thank you, Jianyu, you can go mingle now.”

Jianyu doesn’t move. “This reminds me of that time when we were planning this surprise party for my friend Pillb-”

“Pilibuster,” interrupts Eleanor, reaching out and grabbing Jianyu’s upper arm, glancing back at Chidi. “It’s Irish. He was the foreign asphyxiate at Jianyu’s monastery.” She turns her eyes up towards the ceiling. “Janet, please help me out here.”

“Did you mean novitiate?” asks Chidi, but Eleanor ignores him in favor of Janet, who’s just appeared.

“What do you need, Eleanor?” she asks. Eleanor sighs, her shoulders barely relaxing. “Can you take Jianyu home, please? I think he’s had enough excitement for tonight.”

There’s a pause. Chidi almost says something, like Are you okay, Janet?, but she starts to speak.

“Sure thing,” says Janet, nodding more than seems necessary. “No problem. I can take Jianyu to his house. The house that I know the location of. Which I only know the location of because I am omnipotent, and know everything. No other reason.”

“Janet.”

“We’re leaving now,” says Janet, turning around quickly. “Goodnight, Chidi.”

Jianyu waves over his shoulder as he’s marched away, with much more enthusiasm than Chidi thinks the action really deserves. He watches them go, feeling totally baffled. “What just happened?”

Eleanor sighs. “Trust me, bud, you don’t want to know.”

-

5. Eleanor

“This is your house?” asks Chidi, walking inside. It’s his third month in the neighborhood, and this is the first time he’s ever visited Eleanor’s house. “This is your house?”

Eleanor makes her way to the kitchen, starting to put dishes away. “Yeah, I know.”

“You- but- you hate clowns!”

“Yeah,” says Eleanor, absent-mindedly. “It’s sort of an- an inside joke.”

“You live in an inside joke?”

“It’s- it’s really not a big deal, bud- Chidi.”

Chidi looks up from his examination of the corner of clown portraits, because Eleanor doesn’t stutter often. Sure enough, she’s stopped what she’s doing, the way that she always does when she stutters or hesitates or looks at him like he’s not who she’s expecting to be there.

“It’s- it’s a nice house,” he says, lamely, because he never knows what to do in these situations. He’s not even sure why he’s here - she’d asked him over yesterday, with zero explanation. He’s hoping it’s not because he’s teaching ethics to someone who definitely doesn’t belong in her perfect heavenly neighborhood.

“Thanks,” she says eventually, emerging from wherever she was. “If you don’t know what to say, I get the feeling. Michael designed it, and I don’t know what the fork he was thinking-”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he interrupts. “Why do you keep saying fork?”

“Oh,” she says, looking down and blushing. Her smile is very pretty, although Chidi tend to try not to notice it, most of the time. “In the Good Place, not everyone appreciates cursing, so there’s sort of an automatic filter. I can’t say anything worse than hell. Fork. Bench. Ash. Shirt. And so on.”

“Makes sense,” he says, before realizing something that doesn’t. “You curse a lot for someone from a place that doesn’t approve of cursing.” If she’s an angel or whatever, shouldn’t she be as pure as the rest of them?

“What?” she asks, confused, looking up again. “Plenty of people- Oh, right. Yeah. I’m-” she  stops, hesitating. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m not actually from here. I was human.”

“What?” he asks, frowning. He wasn’t expecting that. “How does- how does that work?”

“Well, I died, and through a really forking long series of events I became an architect,” she says, not really explaining anything. She does that a lot. “Michael sort of took me in. He’s not the main architect because- well- technically, they have to interact with the residents, and he’s not really- uh- good with people. So I got the short straw. And I’m trying my best! But I wasn’t really meant for this job.”

“Ah,” says Chidi. The anxiety in his chest is starting to get worse, and he has a bad feeling that a stomach ache’s on the way. He’s not up for this kind of constant lying. Eleanor’s done such a great job on this neighborhood (besides the obvious mistake), and he knows that things are harder than she likes to show. He doesn’t like lying to her about her life’s (actually, apparently, her death’s) work.

“You good, buddy?” asks Eleanor, probably noticing his expression. She’s finished with her dishes and is wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “What’s wrong?” She rounds the island and puts her hands on his shoulders, trying to help him sit.

“It’s just a stomach ache,” he says, silently apologizing to Kant as she gets him settled. Lying is immoral, he thinks, and then, Getting them caught would be worse. “I get those sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”

Eleanor stops and pulls back to look him in the eye. “You sure? You can’t lie to me, buster.”

“Yes!” says Chidi, louder than he was expecting, and then tries to backtrack. “I mean. Yeah. I’m fine. There’s nothing causing it, I don’t know why it’s suddenly coming on.” He looks up to smile at Eleanor and finds her looking up as her eyes unfocus, her brain a million miles away again.

“Uh- Eleanor?” he says, waving his hand slightly in front of her face. “You in there? It’s me, Chidi.”

She doesn’t react for a couple seconds, before suddenly starting to move again. “Yeah, I know,” she says suddenly, blinking rapidly as she backs away. “I know it’s you.”

He doesn’t say anything, because she’s looking at him like she doesn’t quite recognize him and he doesn’t want to make it worse. This odd behavior is getting more and more common, as time goes by, and he has no clue how he’s supposed to react. After a short while of silence, though, she seems to back down, sighing as her shoulders relax. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“It’s okay,” Chidi says, and is surprised to find that he means it. “Uh- so- what am I doing here, exactly?”

Eleanor stops, looking at him.

“I mean-” he says. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you.” He curses himself, inwardly - she’s The Architect and you’re a dead moral philosophy professor and you’re lying to her about who’s not supposed to be here and-

“I know what you mean,” says Eleanor, giving him a small smile. “It’s not a big issue, really. I just wanted to apologize for all of the weird stuff that’s been happening.”

“You mean-?”

“The sinkhole, the giraffe stampede, that time that trash started falling out of the sky...” she says, counting them on her fingers. “I could go on. But I know you don’t deal well with uncertainty, and I know it’s been kind of- weird, here. So I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” says Chidi. “I know you’re doing your best, and this is your first neighborhood.”

“Yeah,” says Eleanor, looking at him like they’re friends. “No kidding. And- I know-” 

And now she looks nervous.

“I know some people here have been acting weird around you, too.”

“That- that is a thing that’s been happening, yes,” says Chidi. “But that’s not your fault-”

“I know,” she interrupts, studying his face. “But I’m still sorry. I’ve been talking with them about it, and trust me, it’s not about you. Tahani’s been having some trouble with John- I don’t know if you’ve noticed-”

“I hadn’t, actually, but that’s reassuring,” says Chidi, smiling at her. She smiles back. “Anyway, I’ve spoken with everyone - including Janet - and things should be a little more normal, now. At least, as normal as things can be, in the afterlife.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she says. “And- Chidi?”

“Yeah?”

She looks away from him. “I really am sorry.”

He’s lost. He hates feeling lost, but it seems to keep happening here. “About what?”

Eleanor sighs. “About everything.”

He stares at her, and she looks away, throwing her hands up. “Don’t look at me like that, dude! I’m doing my best here.”

“I don’t know what any of this means, Eleanor.”

“I know,” she says. “It’s okay. Things’ll make sense soon. Just a few more months.”

“...Eleanor, what does that mean?” She doesn’t say anything. “Eleanor, I don’t know what that means.”

She takes a deep breath. “I know.”

“Eleanor,” he says, hesitating - except that the answer to this question seems like it’ll solve every mysterious thing that’s happened to him, in the months that he’s been here. “Why is everyone being so weird?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, quietly, and then she smiles gently, like someone who’s about to beat you in a poker game and is waiting for you to spot the final clue. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

He glances at the clock and jumps. It’s five minutes until the ethics lesson Chidi holds in his apartment, and it takes him six to walk there.

“Yes! Sorry, Eleanor, I have to go-”

And he stops.

Does she know about the ethics lessons?

What else could she be talking about?

Chidi studies her face, quickly. She’s looking at him calmly, but there’s no way she can know about the lessons. Even if she is the Architect, and she knows everything that happens in the neighborhood.

Or, well. Hopefully not.

(And it’s not like he can do anything, if she does know. Best to try not to worry about it.)

“I have a- frozen yogurt date,” he says, slowly. “That’s where I have to go now.”

“Right,” says Eleanor, nodding and shaking her head at the same time. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“So I’ll be- going now,” he says. “To the frozen yogurt place.”

“Yep,” says Eleanor, and then she shoots him a thumbs up, smiling like they’re keeping a secret. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Thanks,” he says, walking out and closing the door behind him. He stops, taking a deep breath. If she knows, she knows, and at least the conversation they just had makes some measure of sense. And if she doesn’t?

It’s just more proof that everyone here is completely insane.