'Martin feels the same impulse, but he has no clue what he would say. ‘Sorry, I think we actually ought to keep trying to throw ourselves on anything that even remotely resembles a grenade in a never-ending cycle of sacrifice’ doesn’t seem like an incredibly valid argument.' //ergjegoergref/ 'There’s a look of vague horror on Jon’s face, and Martin’s skin begins to crawl immediately. Just as his mind is about to supply him with some horrific worst case assumption, Jon says, “Martin, I—I’m afraid I don’t know where you live.”' Oh, Jon. Oh, Martin. ''Martin strides over to his coat rack and grabs a hoodie, holding it out to Jon. Jon stares back, eyes wide and confused, trying in vain to rub the warmth back into his arms.
Martin jostles the hoodie in his hands. “Jon, I’m offering this to you. You’re cold.”' i'm, laughing, but i can't decide if this is /sad/ or not. ....probably kind of. jon wouldn't know /help/ if it bit him. 'Martin holds up his duffel. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure what to pack for.”
Jon breathes a quiet laugh, and Martin feels an old familiar swooping in the pit of his stomach. “No, I don’t have a packing list for going on the run from ancient monsters, either, I’m afraid.”' isrejgoirg
'“Cup of tea?”
Martin has asked Jon that same question many times, but he’s never seen him look so desperately relieved to hear it.' ///walking disasters// ' When he brings it over to him, though, he watches him bring it up to his lips, and still when he lowers the cup again, and Martin realizes he’s waiting to see if he’s done a good job.' hE;S TRYING SO HARD 'He smiles, and says, “It’s great, Jon,” and he means it. Jon’s shoulders sag with relief, and he mutters something about going to get his things before shuffling out of the kitchen.
When he does, Martin puts another spoonful of sugar in the tea.' AAAAAAA 'Jon rubs at the back of his head. “Not… typically, no.” A few moments later: “Actually, never.”
“You really just sit in silence with your thoughts? All the time?”
“...Yes?”' ijIAJREGERIOJGOIRJGOIJ 'He actually looks away from the road fully, then, to give Martin a pleading look. A please forgive me look. Martin can hardly stand it. “I only thought… well, if anything happens to us—”
“Watch the road, Jon,” Martin says, quietly. Gently. He exhales. I refuse to become another goddamn mystery. “It’s alright.” He feels Jon exhale in turn beside him and wishes, for just a moment, that Jon had one hand off the wheel, perhaps lying on the center console, so that Martin could rest his hand on top. “...It’s alright.”' /ow// 'It’s dusty inside, but nowhere near as bad as Jon had worried about at several points during their drive, and Martin says as much, reveling in the little victory. As if to prove a point, Jon sneezes. Martin gives him a long-suffering look' EH HEH HEH HEH!! '“Daisy’s not religious,” Jon says, in his I-am-trying-to-understand voice.' *chirping( \'Martin grins. “I think it’s a joke, Jon.”' //oh my gods///. like how they do in motels? 'artin is reminded of one time, over a year ago now, when Jon had just been kidnapped, and then returned in a flurry of chaos and new revelations, and he’d taken the time to speak to Martin, to ask him if he was okay, to tell him not to push himself too hard with the statements. He can count on both hands the times he’s seen Jon speak to anyone like that, let alone to him (most of those are recent efforts that he’s resisted, and he tries very hard not to think about that right now, and he even nearly succeeds)' //ow/// 'Martin inches agonizingly closer to climbing into the bed, fluffing up one of the pillows and then continuing to fluff it up longer than he realistically needs to. Two minutes in he starts to feel particularly stupid, and thirty seconds later he can’t bear to stall anymore, so he throws the covers back on his side and clambers in.' *chortling* '“Oh,” Jon says, suddenly, before turning and bolting out of the room.
Martin is, if he’s being perfectly honest with himself, left dumbfounded.' *squawking in amusement* 'And then, a moment later, just as he’s about to start feeling a little indignant about the whole thing' heheheheheeh iaoIJOIAERJGESIOJGOIE THEY'RE SO FUCKING RIDICULOUS AND I LOVE IT AND /AWKWARD// okay that. ///is// a very Martin poem. /he is the little brd/ 'His wish is fulfilled when a long moment later, Jon says tentatively, “It’s quite good,” like this is the first time he’s giving Emily Dickinson any consideration, and Wouldn’t you know it, the young lady can write' IJREAOIEARJ HE HAS SUCH STODDGY OLD PROFESSOR VIBES *cackling* i'm as picky as Jon about my fruit, but even i realize //you can cut the subpar bits off//. ' in the midst of choosing her own apples. He gives her a what-can-you-do smile, and she laughs softly.
“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” she says, “my husband is just as picky.”' IFJEAOIFAJRIJEOIG '“Ah.” Jon regards the cow in question for a moment before declaring, “Boadicea.”
“She does look quite regal, doesn’t she?” Martin coos in Boadicea’s direction, then rethinks it. “Is it rude to coo at a queen?”
“Bit infantilizing, I’d say,” Jon says, grinning.' arijgoijgeargiojreoigjersoijge '“Oh, is that so?” Jon pouts some more. Martin laughs softly again. “They’re gentle, love. Not to be underestimated, that’s for sure, but as long as you don’t act like a prat around them, you’ll be fine.”' fsfjoQJFEOIGJREIROJGSORIJGOIRJEGJRSHTIOGJRIOJHTO!!!!!! 'Jon makes a thoroughly frustrated noise in his throat that sounds somewhat like a growl. Martin laughs louder, throwing his head back.
“Oh, I’m glad my suffering is so entertaining,” ' *happy cawing* this is so soft and /sweet/. 'There’s several moments of silence before Jon looks after the cow and calls out, “Thanks very much, Tim,” and Martin dissolves into giggles again.' o/h my gods/ 'He knows Jon’s voice. He knows this newer tone, even, the quiet and gentle one, the one that’s sometimes sad, oftentimes resigned, and the one that right now is warm and accepting. Martin knows Jon, so he knows that Jon doesn’t just mean ‘alright’. He knows exactly what Jon’s ‘alright’ means.
He squeezes Jon’s hand.' /////// okay just that whole scene //so much emotion// 'Jon is crouched on top of the kitchen counter, staring wide-eyed down at the floor at a tiny, black dot.' i CAN'T MCFUCKIN EVEN THIS IS SO REKL/GRAENLIGJREIGJSRIOEGHVOIREJWIOEOEJGIOJGIRAJGIOJRGE///A/GROJTSIOGAS jraivjreoijreiojav
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notsafefortheworld Tue 14 Jan 2020 02:00AM UTC
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