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It's strange, because Marty is pretty used to it by now, but there are moments when he's taken aback. Rust is weird, he's obviously not your "normal family man, who goes to work every day and watches football on Sundays, on the couch, with a cold beer in hand" maybe he once was and not Marty at all aware, but he could say that this is highly unlikely.
Most of the time he just puts up with it, but there are times when it gets kind of thick, where even though he's just doing his job, doing his thing, and only speaking when necessary, he's somehow more irritating. .
When he gets home it's quite a dilemma, Marty doesn't understand, because Rust acts like a grumpy and hurt cat, he can hardly get near him and it annoys him. It's almost like he's in his lost place, but then again, Rust isn't a woman, he couldn't be on his "male period" or something. Marty usually gives up too easily trying to figure out what's wrong with him, but he's a detective after all.
It turns out that Rust is only on his "days" when it rains or the weather forecast warns.
"What the hell?" Think.
It's very weird, but he don't know what he's asking, although he finds it curious, after all, even if he said something to Rust, he wouldn't say anything at all and Marty would just waste his time. But he's still curious, maybe he won't ask him directly, much less right there, while he sees him organizing a couple of papers at work, but instead he'll try to find a way to tell him something.
____
It was winter by then, they were both on their way to work, Marty was driving as usual, Rust was looking out the car window all the time, probably looking up at the sky only once in a while. Marty looked away relatively and subtly, it was only a couple of seconds totally necessary. A part of him wanted to ask the fateful question right there, with a Rust who had woken up in the morning totally gloomy and silent, would he at least talk about something? Still, I keep silent.
It was one of the longest trips the two could have, also one of the most uncomfortable, more than the first ones that came at the beginning of their relationship, when they didn't even know each other, in 1991. The air became tense and unbearably tedious. Rust was apparently in such a bad mood that he didn't even feel like saying any of his philosophical nonsense, though he only said it when Marty asked and remained silent anyway.
____
The day passed almost identically to the trip. The forecast had not been wrong, this time it rained all night. Rust didn't sleep in bed, he stayed awake in front of the crucifix in the kitchen, smoking more than usual. Marty didn't care, not at first, he lay back on the bed and tried to sleep anyway, but he never got sleepy. This had happened too many times already.
"May I know what is supposed to happen to you now?" Marty ask going down the stairs in the process.
Rust didn't move, he was still and silent. The small drizzle at 10 had turned into a big thunderstorm during the early morning and was totally strong.
"Why…you've been sitting there most of the night, it's almost 4 o'clock, Rust. Fuck, what's up now?"
"Nothing..."
"Nothing" he repeated "it can't be, old man. You act like a fucking woman... Just tell me what the hell is wrong with you"
"Marty, fuck you, I'm fine, I don't need to..."
"The Rain Isn't So Bad"
Martin interrupted. Rust turned away, the almost nonexistent cigarette tangled in his fingers.
"What?" I ask, her voice as expressionless as her face.
"I said the rain isn't that bad, it's okay, no one likes lightning and noise in the sky when they want to sleep, but it's not the end of the world. Why do you hate it so much?"
"I don't hate them," he stated, still looking like a stone statue.
Marty took a deep breath, the conversation wouldn't work and he just understood. He shrugged and looked out the window for a moment. It was only a couple of steps that divided them. He turned around, walking slowly towards the stairs.
"Okay, go to hell... If you want to stay up all night just because you're afraid of a couple of lightning strikes, that's your fucking problem."
____
For the first time Rust didn't smell smoke, of course Marty couldn't say the same for alcohol considering they were in a bar. He had strayed out of the way home from work, and Rust hadn't objected in the least, it was another day where he was totally out of touch.
Apparently it was some kind of rainy season. The man was freezing even here, in a crowded place. They each ordered a drink, gulping it down as soon as they received it. And so they stayed, very quiet, serious and distant? Martin had no idea.
Anyone who saw them could have told that they were just colleagues trying to hang out, they didn't even seem like friends let alone anything more than that. It was strange, neither of them gave a damn about how they looked or how much or little they were capable of showing affection, but even being what they were, it could be a lie, sometimes they did care.
"You shouldn't have asked," Rust said.
Marty didn't hear very well, he was a bit distracted, he responded with: *Hmm?* And Rust totally understood the message, so he responded.
"You didn't have to ask, it's not your problem, I never ask about your wife"
(Fuck you, I only cared about you)
Marty thought, but luckily he calmed down and I don't know what he said.
"Hey... what's up now? Since when are you so rowdy?"
"Go to hell"
Said. It was almost inaudible, barely as powerful as a whisper or even softer. Martin rolled his eyes. Things between the two of them could get more and more tense every day, he was supposed to do something, for the sake of their "relationship" or whatever it was they had back then.
As strange as it seemed to him or even if it took him completely by surprise, Rust broached the subject bluntly.
"It's because of my daughter," he said.
Martin frowned. Rust had talked about her before, but it was only extremely special and extremely short moments. He leaned back in his seat and cleared his throat without saying a word as he waited for Rust to continue speaking.
"It's because of my daughter that I hate the rain"
"Rust, I don't understand you…what does she have to do with it?"
"The driver didn't see it because of all the water on the windshield," he spat.
Marty somehow understood it all.
It was extremely strange, because Rust's voice was totally neutral, but you could still hear a little hint or two of sadness in the tone.
“I think I shouldn't have let her out, even though I was there, with her, on the sidewalk… It was my fault. She was three years old. What father would let her go out on the street at the age of three? I wasn't prepared for that, I was wrong."
After that, Rust stopped talking. Marty didn't get any good answer to what he had just heard, although he tried to find it in a thousand ways. He thought maybe he should have guessed, it was Rust after all.
____
They returned home very late. Rust went into the bathroom to take a shower almost automatically. Marty had to wait for him to do the same, they both reeked of alcohol. When he came out, Rust was already in bed, curled up on his side, facing the wall. Marty didn't know if he was asleep or awake. His breathing was slow, leisurely, calm.
Marty walked slowly until he was standing a few feet from his partner. As he lay back, Rust felt it, the bed sagging slightly as he got used to the new extra weight on one end, yet he didn't move or roll over. Marty stayed for about twenty minutes staring at the ceiling without knowing exactly what to do. She could barely hear Rust's breathing, she supposed she had to do something.
He turned, staying to one side just like him, only behind him. He hesitated at first, he didn't know if Rust really liked being hugged, he supposed his wife had to do it once... Although Marty wasn't exactly his new wife and Rust wasn't anymore...
(whoever he was before his daughter died, maybe he was the same but less bitter, he wasn't sure)
He tried anyway, didn't have much to lose, if he rejected it, at dawn neither of them would mention it or cover the subject, sooner or later they would forget it and everything would continue its course.
The first was a soft, fearful touch. Marty closed his eyes tight as soon as his hand was resting on Rust's shoulder, noticing that his breathing remained regular, he continued.
(That cheered Maggie up when she was sad or when they fought, why wouldn't it work on Rust?)
Marty lowered his hand to her waist and cautiously stopped. A rumble was heard throughout the room, it was loud and lit up the sky for a few seconds, Rust opened his eyes and looked up. For some reason she couldn't feel Marty's touch on her waist and she lowered her eyelids again.
Marty continued with his reconciliation procedure. It didn't take long, but it was still the last two most difficult steps of the mission: clinging completely to Rust's body and resting her chin on his shoulder.
"Come on man, fuck... Rust is not a fucking animal, he's not going to bite you if you get close to him"
He told himself, ending totally. His body immediately tensed, trying to find a way to feel comfortable. Rust's breathing was still the same and Marty relaxed.
It wasn't hard to fall asleep that time, as soon as he closed his eyes he lost consciousness, falling into a deep sleep, to the point of not giving a shit about the sounds of thunder and rain outside.
Rust woke up after a few hours, realizing the position they were both in, he did nothing. She glanced over her shoulder for a moment, before resting her head back on the pillow. He was surprised at himself when he realized he didn't care one bit.
After a few minutes, he positioned himself differently, turning slowly and calmly so as not to wake Marty, even though he was having a powerful dream. He laid his head on Marty's chest and took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around the figure in front of him just as Marty had done before. Rust was sure he would sleep better for tonight.
____
The next morning, Marty is the first to wake up this time. He finds Rust hugging him and is completely confused with a scowl. He smiles after a few minutes. It's Saturday and there's no work, so they could stay like this all night if it were up to Marty and Rust apparently wouldn't be interested in objecting.
A girl who was found dead, her face pressed against a tree and horns embedded in her head It's a new task. There's supposed to be a new case, which means they shouldn't be so calm... But work can wait.