Anomaly; Stranded The Series (bxb)

Chapter 12: Rivalry

After the fragile peace that came from their last conversation, something had shifted between Eli and Jonah. It wasn't just about their feelings or figuring out how to navigate this new territory they'd stumbled into. It was about control—the unspoken tug-of-war that had always existed between them, simmering just beneath the surface.

Now, it was right out in the open, and they were both too stubborn to back down.

They spent their days working side by side on the shelter, but instead of teamwork, it felt like a battle—a constant struggle to see who would call the shots. Every decision, every suggestion turned into a challenge, and neither of them could resist rising to it. It wasn't just about getting things done anymore; it was about proving something.

And that tension was tearing them apart.

"Jesus, Jonah, you're doing it all wrong," Eli snapped one afternoon, watching as Jonah tied off a section of the shelter with a knot Eli knew wouldn't hold.

Jonah shot him a sharp look, his jaw clenched. "What's your problem? It's fine."

"It's not fine," Eli said, stepping closer. His frustration was spilling out now, fast and hot. "That knot's gonna come loose the second we get hit with another storm. You're wasting time."

Jonah's eyes flashed with anger. "Wasting time? You think you've got everything figured out, don't you? Like your way is the only fucking way."

Eli crossed his arms, his heart pounding in his chest. "Maybe because my way works. Unlike whatever half-assed thing you're trying to pull."

Jonah stood up straight, dropping the rope and stepping right into Eli's space, his voice low and dangerous. "You always do this, man. You always act like you know better, like you're the only one who can fix shit. Well, guess what? You don't."

Eli's blood boiled, his hands curling into fists at his sides. They'd been here before—this exact moment, this exact fight—so many times. But it felt different now, sharper, more personal.

"You're just pissed because you can't stand being wrong," Eli shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "God forbid Jonah doesn't have all the answers for once."

Jonah's laugh was humorless, bitter. "Fuck you, Eli. At least I'm trying. You, on the other hand, can't see past your own damn ego long enough to realize we're supposed to be a team."

Eli's chest tightened, anger mixing with guilt, but he pushed it down, unwilling to back off. "A team? Right. Except you're too busy trying to win every fucking argument to actually work with me."

Jonah's hands were shaking, his face inches from Eli's now, both of them locked in this unspoken battle for dominance. It was always like this with them. Push and pull. Give and take. But now, with everything else thrown into the mix, it felt like they were on the edge of something explosive.

"Maybe you don't get it," Jonah said, his voice low and full of barely controlled rage. "But this isn't some pissing contest. This is survival. We don't have time for your bullshit."

Eli clenched his jaw, his heart racing. He knew Jonah was right. But admitting that felt like losing. And he couldn't lose—not to Jonah. Not again.

"You're right," Eli said, his voice tight with sarcasm. "You've got everything under control. You always do."

Jonah's eyes narrowed, his breath coming in hard and fast. For a second, Eli thought he might actually take a swing at him, and honestly? He almost wanted him to.

But instead, Jonah stepped back, shaking his head. "Fuck this," he muttered, turning away and storming off toward the beach, leaving Eli standing there, his chest heaving with anger and frustration.

Eli stood frozen, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. Fuck. How had it gotten this bad? How had they gone from tentative peace to this—this mess of unresolved shit that neither of them knew how to deal with?

The next few days were tense, full of silent power struggles and snide comments. They avoided talking about anything real, focusing instead on the tasks at hand—gathering food, reinforcing the shelter, keeping themselves busy. But beneath it all, the rivalry simmered, always there, waiting for an excuse to flare up again.

One morning, as they worked on patching up a section of the roof, Jonah broke the silence.

"We can't keep doing this," he said, not looking at Eli, his voice tight with frustration.

Eli glanced over at him, already bracing for another argument. "Doing what?"

Jonah dropped the branch he'd been holding, running a hand through his hair. "This. The fucking back-and-forth. Acting like we're enemies when we're supposed to be on the same side."

Eli's chest tightened, the weight of Jonah's words settling over him. He knew Jonah was right. They couldn't keep going like this. But what was the alternative? They had always pushed each other, always competed, and now, with everything that had happened between them, it was only getting worse.

"We've always been like this," Eli muttered, not sure if he was trying to justify it or if he just didn't know how to be anything else.

Jonah sighed, finally looking at him, his eyes softer now, though still guarded. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe we can't keep being who we used to be. Not anymore."

Eli looked away, his heart racing. He hated how Jonah could do this—cut right to the heart of the issue with a few well-placed words. But he was right.

"I don't know how to do that," Eli admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't know how to stop... whatever this is."

Jonah let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, neither do I. But we need to figure it out. Otherwise, we're just gonna tear each other apart."

Eli didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. They had always been like this, and now they were in a situation where they couldn't afford to be. But changing who they were, who they'd always been together—it wasn't that simple.

Jonah ran a hand down his face, his expression tired, frustrated. "Look, I don't want to fight with you. I don't want to keep doing this stupid rivalry shit."

Eli nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Me neither."

They stood there for a long moment, the air between them still thick with tension but no longer on the verge of breaking. It was a start—a fragile, uneasy truce—but Eli didn't know if it would last.

That night, as they sat by the fire, the weight of the day's conversation still hung heavy between them. They didn't speak, didn't try to unpack it, but the silence felt different. Less hostile. More like they were both trying to figure out what came next.

Jonah poked at the fire with a stick, his eyes distant. "You ever think maybe we're just too fucked up for this?"

Eli raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

Jonah shrugged, his gaze still focused on the flames. "All of it. This. Us. Trying to figure out if we're in love or just losing our minds."

Eli let out a soft laugh, though there wasn't much humor in it. "Yeah. I've thought about it."

Jonah's eyes flicked to Eli's, searching for something. Maybe an answer. Maybe a way forward.

"I don't want to be your rival, Eli," Jonah said quietly. "I don't want to keep fighting with you."

Eli nodded, his chest tight. He didn't want that either. But wanting something didn't make it any easier to achieve.

"We'll figure it out," Eli said, though even he didn't fully believe it. "We have to."

Jonah gave him a small, tired smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. I guess we do."

And so they sat, side by side, staring into the flames, trying to navigate a path through the tangled mess of their past and whatever future they were trying to build.