Chapter Text
The house was quiet. Jon was still gone, not due to return for three more days. Nina was off at school. Martin couldn’t feel anyone watching him, so he was alone in that aspect, as well. Alexander and Khoshekh were napping in the living room.
Martin was alone. Not truly alone - not in the way that mattered, and he would never be Alone again. But… he was lonely. The house was usually so lively - Nina chattering with the animals, or Jon going on a rant about something or another. Even the quiet moments were filled with noise - turning pages, a crackling fire, quiet breathing.
Martin couldn’t hear anything. No quiet scuffling, wind blowing, or trees rustling. Even his own breathing sounded far away.
He stood at the sink, staring out the window at nothing. The sky had been clear moments ago, so why was fog slowly settling in?
And now that he was listening closely, it wasn’t silent. He could hear ocean waves crashing against a shore. It was distant, like he was only approaching it, but it was there. It probably should’ve concerned him more than it actually did.
He looked at his hands, and his gaze found his ring. Something stirred in his chest at that, but it was too far away to grasp.
Martin thought he missed Jon. He wanted his husband back. He needed his anchor.
He was Lonely.
A slight whine filtered through the static of crashing waves, then Martin couldn’t see outside the window. He was ushered away from the kitchen and found himself sitting on the couch. A heavy weight settled across his lap, and his hands buried themselves in fur.
Martin pet along Alexander’s back as he slowly came back to himself. Warmth returned to him gradually, and tears stung his eyes. He pushed his face into Alexander and let quiet sobs shake his frame.
He couldn’t let Jon know about this. It would only make him worry.
“Daddy!”
“Hello, sweetheart,” Jon said, crouching to let Nina launch full-body into him. He let out a soft grunt when she hit but wrapped his arms around her. “How’ve you been? Were you good for Papa?”
“I was the best!” Nina exclaimed. “And we had a ton of fun! We had some people visit, but Papa talked with them, and they went away.”
Jon tensed and looked up at Martin. Martin mouthed “safe,” and Jon relaxed again. He placed a kiss on Nina’s forehead. “Well, isn’t that a relief. And your Papa stayed out of trouble as well?”
“Mhm!” Nina nodded. She held tightly onto Jon as he stood, and he moved his arms to hold her.
Jon stepped closer to Martin and held a hand out. Martin stared at it, his lip quivering, but he didn’t take it. He instead looked back at Jon’s face. He managed to catch a glimpse of hurt on Jon’s face before it was wiped away with understanding. Understanding of what , Martin didn’t know.
“I missed you, my love,” Jon said softly.
Martin hummed, tears welling in his eyes. “I missed you, too. I’m glad you’re back, Jon.”
“Why don’t we have a slow day, today?” Jon suggested. “And we can spend some time talking about my travels.”
Nina cheered, and Martin nodded.
As it turned out, Jon spent less than an hour in Liore, which he told Martin while Nina was grabbing her journal. The homunculi were there, causing trouble, but there was nothing Jon could do about it, not with the level it was at.
So he had left it alone before traveling around the east. He went to East City for a bit, where he stumbled into Scar. That was slightly heart-attack-inducing, but Jon assured Martin that there was no trouble. Jon had apologized for any perceived slight, and Scar had shrugged him off. He was after state alchemists, after all - no need to concern himself with a random civilian.
Martin, conversely, told Jon about the Elric brothers and Major Armstrong’s visit. How they were looking into getting their bodies back - even if they hadn’t explicitly told Martin that, he still knew , having seen the show. Martin directed them to the general area of Doctor Marcoh, which would help the plot keep rolling.
Olivier had told her family about them, which was interesting. Neither Jon nor Martin had thought they had made such a large impact, but they had.
Then Nina came sprinting into the room, Alexander right behind her. They both jumped onto the couch, and Nina shoved her journal into Jon’s hands. He read through it carefully, making quiet comments about whatever was written.
“I’m glad you had fun while I was gone,” Jon said, smiling.
Nina dove into his side, a slight pout on her face. “Still missed you.”
“I missed you, too, dear,” Jon said. He gently took Martin’s hand. “Both of you.”
Martin hummed, running his thumb across Jon’s knuckles before pulling away. He stood quickly before he could see Jon’s sad look. “I should probably get started on dinner. Be back soon - keep them occupied for me, Jon.”
“Ah, right,” Jon murmured, sounding dejected.
Martin hesitated as he made for the kitchen before steeling himself. It was for the better.
Martin knew that Jon could see right through him. And it was seeing more than Seeing because Martin didn’t get that feeling of being Known. So Martin was being far too obvious in his attempts to distance himself.
Jon was, clearly, willing to let it go for the first few days because he was perfect like that. Of course, Jon was also able to see that something was actually wrong.
So, one night, a week after Jon came back from his trip, while Jon was getting ready for work, he turned to Martin. A conflicted expression was on his face, making Martin glance up from his book. He frowned when he saw Jon, setting the book down.
“Everything alright, Jon?”
Jon sighed. He finished buttoning his shirt before sitting on the bed next to Martin. “More importantly, are you alright?”
Martin raised a brow. “Why do you ask?”
“You’ve been drawing away, Martin. Like when you were under Lukas,” Jon said slowly. “You spend so much time at work, and you bring anything you don’t finish home. You’ve been playing with Nina less and less, and she’s noticed. She keeps asking me what’s wrong, and I don’t know what to tell her.” He paused, twisting the ring on his finger. “And… you’ve stopped accepting my affection. I’ve been trying to give you space, but you keep getting worse. I’m worried that- that you’re falling into the Lonely again.”
Martin sighed, shifting. “I didn’t want to worry you. I’m sorry.”
“Martin,” Jon said, tone soft, “You know I want to take care of you. I just want you to be happy and safe.”
Martin sniffled as tears began to collect in his eyes. “I know. I- I just-”
Jon moved closer to Martin, wrapping his arms around him. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. You can tell me anything - we’re in this together.”
Martin carefully laid his head on Jon’s shoulder. “I know.” He took in a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Jon said, rubbing a hand up and down Martin’s back. “I’m here.”
Martin let Jon hold him as he finally fell apart. He really didn’t deserve this man.
Even with that conversation had, Martin still found himself drifting away. Jon - wonderful, amazing, perfect Jon - was always there to ground him.
When Martin sequestered himself in the study, trying to perfect his alchemy, Jon was there with food, water, and a few ideas to assist.
When Martin came home late from work, Jon brought him to the bedroom and cuddled him for hours. Nina often joined.
When Martin was avoiding them both for a bit too long, Jon suggested a park outing and refused to take “no” as an answer.
Soon enough, with Jon’s continued support, Martin was able to chase the cold away on his own. He reminded himself that he was loved, and he was quick to correct any lonely or self-deprecating thoughts. The sound of waves in his ears faded, and he no longer saw fog when he looked out the window.
Then, only a short while later, it was Elicia’s birthday.
On the day, at two in the afternoon, Jon and Martin arrived at the Hughes’s apartment with Nina in tow. When Jon knocked, Gracia was the one who answered.“Oh, Martin, Jon, it’s good to see you,” she said, smiling. “And Nina, too! I’m so glad you could make it. It is a little early, but that’s perfectly okay.”
“Did we get the time wrong again?” Martin bemoaned.
Gracia laughed, letting the three into the place. “Only by an hour this time.”
“I told him it was at three,” Jon insisted, “but he kept telling me, ‘we need to get there early, we need to be on time, aren’t you all about punctuality, Jon?’ I mean, really.”
“Hey, it was your fault that we were late last time,” Martin said light-heartedly, setting their gift for Elicia on the coffee table. “Maybe if you were able to keep track of time-”
“Alright, you two,” Maes said, coming into the living room. Elicia was balanced on one hip, and both were smiling brightly. “We have a guest, so try not to bicker too much.”
Jon and Martin looked past Hughes to see a young blonde girl with bright blue eyes. Jon cleared his throat, ears flushing in embarrassment, before smiling sheepishly.
“And who is this?”
“I’m Winry Rockbell,” the girl said, stepping forward and holding a hand out.
“Jonathan Sims - and I don’t really shake hands, sorry,” Jon replied, raising his right hand. Jude Perry’s mark sat there, and Winry winced.
“It’s alright,” Winry said, keeping the smile on her face. “It’s nice to meet you, though.” Her gaze turned to Martin. “Martin Blackwood, then? Edward and Alphonse told me about you. You were a huge help to them a few weeks ago.”
“Ah, that’s good,” Martin said, coming up next to Jon. "How have they been?"
Winry's face fell a little. "Oh, getting into trouble, like always."
"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Jon said.
"You didn't tell me you knew the Elric brothers," Hughes said, setting Elicia on the floor to play with Nina.
"Oh, I don't actually know them," Martin said. "They just came by with some questions. I answered them and sent them on their way. Jon didn't even meet them."
“How can you tell what they’re like then?” Hughes asked, laughing.
Jon shrugged. “It just feels like something of the teen boy agenda.”
“Definitely seems like something you would do,” Martin said, shouldering Jon gently. “Troublemaker.”
“Yes, I am just the worst,” Jon drawled, rolling his eyes fondly. He smiled at Winry. “Don’t believe Martin for a moment. It’s all lies and slander.”
Winry muffled giggles behind her hand. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Martin snorted. “Yeah, yeah.” He leaned in to peck Jon’s cheek. “Wouldn’t trade you for the world, though.”
“Happy birthday, Elicia!”
The group gathered at the table cheered as Elicia, now four years old, blew out her candle. Food and drinks were had, confetti was shot, and Elicia opened her presents.
Martin settled himself in a chair off to the side, content to watch the kids run around and play. Nina was having fun, at the very least, and taking her place as the head of the group, being the oldest. He saw the mouse break, and Winry fix it. Jon was watching intently, genuinely impressed, and Martin found the expression on his face adorable.
“You’re a toy doctor!” Elicia exclaimed.
Nina tilted her head. “My Papa fixed my teddy before, would he be a toy doctor?”
“Yes!” Elicia said, nodding with a serious expression.
“I’m really not,” Winry said, patting Elicia’s head gently.
A few minutes later found Winry and Maes sitting next to Martin, Elicia in Winry’s lap. Nina had continued to play with some of the boys. It looked like a scuffed version of tag hide-and-seek, and they somehow managed to drag Jon into being “it.”
“You’re his mechanic, right?” Hughes was asking Winry. Martin looked over, curious.
“Yeah, we grew up together, so I feel like it’s a bit of my responsibility,” Winry said. “We’ve always been together.”
“He probably causes you a bunch of trouble, huh?” Hughes said.
“Less trouble, more he just makes me worry,” Winry said. “I’m only in Central because he busted his automail. At least it’s the first time in a while, but…” Her face fell. “I saw him in the hospital, and he was covered in injuries. I always wonder what Ed and Al are doing, but… they never tell me anything. Maybe if we were closer, they would want to tell me what they plan.”
“Try not to beat yourself up too much, Winry,” Martin interjected gently. “They’re still young, you’ll have to give them some time.” He looked over at Jon, who was now being coerced into saying silly things with his posh accent. “Believe it or not, Jon was an absolute jerk when we first met. And then he had a terrible sense of self-preservation, jumping headfirst into trouble. There’s a reason he’s so covered in scars.”
Hughes nodded along. “I don’t think it’s that they don’t want to tell you. More that they don’t feel like they need to tell you. Men express themselves more in action than words, they likely just assumed that you would understand what they meant.”
“I promise that they care about you, Winry,” Martin continued. She looked at him with a hopeful expression, and Martin smiled. “I only met them for a short while, but they have conviction and smarts. I’m sure they just don’t want you to worry.”
“When they come to you with their concerns, that’s when you can be there for them,” Hughes finished. “It’s not much, but it’s what they’ll allow.”
Winry looked down at the floor, contemplation written across her face.
“Elicia!”
Three boys came running up. The one who spoke had a grin and continued, “Come play with us! Mr. Jon is saying funny things again!”
Elicia giggled. “Okay!”
Winry gently let Elicia down when asked. Hughes made a show of his gun, causing Martin to laugh out a sigh.
“Maes. They’re four. Calm down.”
Hughes gave Martin a pout before settling back into the chair. He shook his head before turning back to Winry. “So yeah. With those two boys, let them come to you.”
Winry nodded. “Thank you. Both of you - this really helped.”
“Of course,” Martin said. He looked at Jon again, smiling fondly.
The hours passed gradually, and soon it was eight. Martin held a sleeping Nina in his arms as Jon helped clean up. The rest of the guests had left, and Gracia was upstairs putting Elicia to bed.
“Mr. Blackwood,” Winry said, stepping over to Martin, “can I ask where you and Jon are from?”
“Aerugo,” Martin said. “We moved here… three years ago? Maybe four, it’s hard to remember. We were chased out by the war.”
“And you guys were together through all of that?” Winry said.
Martin thought back to his life on Earth, working in the Archives. “Well, there was a while where we weren’t together - four years of that. We were colleagues, and yes, before you ask, this is when Jon was a jerk. A lot of stuff happened in that time, which is where Jon’s scars came from. I won’t share details, cause they’re not mine to talk about, but we did finally figure things out when we fled. And then things happened, and now we’re here. And we couldn’t be happier.”
Winry smiled softly. “I’m glad you guys had each other, at least.”
Martin nodded and let the conversation drift off. A few minutes later, Jon joined them.
“Alright, everything is mostly cleaned up,” Jon said. “Are you ready to go?”
Martin nodded.
Jon turned to Winry. “Again, it was wonderful to meet you, Ms. Rockbell.”
“It was nice to meet the both of you, too,” Winry replied. “I hope we can see each other again sometime.”
“It would be nice,” Martin said. “We’ll be heading out now. Take care.”
Winry smiled. “You too.”
The next day had been a relaxing one. Martin had been off work, so he and Jon were able to spend some time together while Nina was at school. They went on a nice lunch date, where Jon spent way too long making jokes at Martin's expense. Admittedly, Martin had been fighting cackles the whole time, but still. Then they took a long walk in the park before returning home.
That night, as Martin was getting ready for bed, Jon shot awake. His breath came in quick pants, and he was shaking.
"Jon?"
Jon pushed himself out of bed and sprinted out of the bedroom. "No time to explain, come on!" He barely stopped long enough to shove shoes on.
Martin followed suit, making sure to lock the door behind him. It was easy to follow Jon when he was letting out crazed mumbled every thirty seconds, which was vaguely concerning. So Martin stayed behind Jon as he ran through streets and alleys.
"No, I can't-" Jon mumbled. A few green eyes had opened around his head. He put a hand to his face, brow furrowed in pain. He stopped at a four-way road. Glancing around, he gestured to the left. "This way."
A few minutes later found them in a nearby park. In the center of the park's pathway was a single telephone booth. A gunshot rang out.
" No! "
Jon shot forward, decking the figure with the gun. Surprisingly, it fell backward with the force. Martin realized with a start what was happening and skid to a stop on his knees.
Hughes's eyes were starting to lose focus. "Martin? Jon? Are you-"
"Hush, Maes, save your strength," Martin said, applying pressure to the bullet wound. The bullet was still lodged in his chest, but as long as he could get the bleeding to stop, it would be okay. "Just stay awake for me. Focus on staying awake."
Jon let out a pissed sound from where he had tackled Envy. Martin glanced over to see Jon beating the absolute shit out of Envy. At least Jon also healed quickly - almost instantly - so anything Envy retaliated with wouldn't last.
Martin tore a part of Maes's sleeve and took a moment to tie it around the wound on his shoulder. The bleeding had slowed, and while Hughes was breathing shallowly, he was still conscious and alive.
"What the hell are you?" Envy shouted.
"The Archivist," Jon muttered, smashing both hands down on Envy's forehead. There was a sickening crack.
Martin kept his focus on Maes as he slowly helped the other man to his feet. "Jon. Let's go."
Jon slowly stood from Envy's panting form. Jon's own chest was heaving, and Martin could see his hands trembling.
"Maes Hughes is dead. You will tell everyone this, and you can't tell anyone other than that. It is the only truth you know. No one saw anything different - you disposed of the body discreetly, and Hughes will be reported MIA."
Envy's eyes glazed over, and Jon stumbled. The green, staticy eyes faded before he righted himself. Keeping his head down, Jon slipped under Maes's free arm.
"Let's get home."
"Well, Hughes is stable," Martin sighed, settling at the kitchen table. The entire house was shrouded in pitch black to keep Pride out.
Jon hummed, staring into his tea.
Martin put a hand on Jon's. "Are you alright?"
"It felt good," Jon mumbled. "Beating that thing - it healed, so it was like a perfect punching bag. And… I just let loose. It was cathartic." He looked at Martin with distant eyes. "Does that make me a monster?"
"Envy deserved it," Martin said, squeezing Jon's hand. "They were the one to start the Ishvalan War. They would have succeeded in killing Hughes if we weren't there. They do other terrible things later." At Jon's downtrodden expression, Martin sighed. "No, Jon, you're not a monster."
Jon hummed, turning back to his tea. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who lost control on them."
"Maybe not, but again, it was deserved," Martin said. "Jon, no matter what you do, you won't be a monster. It's understandable, considering the stress you've been under."
Jon sighed heavily. "You're… right. I'm sorry." He gave Martin a weak smile. "Thank you."
"Of course," Martin said, smiling back. "Anytime."