Chapter Text
“It has to be you. The Eye won’t let me do it.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“No, but I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They only got a month, Martin can’t help but think.
A month where they got to be normal, where they got to act like a normal couple. At the time they didn’t know the clock was running out, they were just living, and maybe it was better for that. Even if they never got that again Martin would always have those perfect memories. Memories of a small dusty cottage where it was just them. Where they relaxed for the first time in so long. Memories of hands linking, of early morning walks, of shared meals, of casual kisses, of everything. He’s kept all those memories with him even if Jon struggles to remember.
Martin remembers all that time ago when Jon said to him that the world doesn’t work like that anymore; that the world doesn’t allow for comfort anymore, and Jon was mostly right.
Martin is a practical man. He was prone to flights of fancy every now and then, but when it came down to it, he never expected much from his life. Not that he didn’t think himself capable of it, just that was never part of his plan. A simple life with simple comforts. That’s all he ever wanted.
His mother used to tell him people rarely get what they want, and for a while, he believed her, but not anymore. How could he when the world ended and he got to stay safely at Jon’s side, right where he belonged? Now, the gentle press of Jon’s lips to his even as the ground around them was crumbling reminds him he did get that. A simple life, nothing fancy, and someone to share it with. He got it, even if it was only for a while. It was more than some people get, more than he thought he’d ever get.
So, if comfort doesn’t exist in this world anymore then what is this?
When Martin pulls back he knows what he has to do. What he said he would never do, could never do, but he will. He will do it. He will do it for a million reasons— saving the world, end the suffering, removing the fears— but most of all because Jon asked him. Jon, who is looking up at him with big wet eyes, and a desperately hopeful expression. Martin will do it, but he is going to take this last moment. He deserves it. He’s accepted Jon’s words of somewhere else , for what they were; a kindness. One final kindness from the love of his life. A wonderful promise that Martin won’t hold against him for breaking. He thought he’d been in love before and perhaps he had, but nothing like what he has with Jon. Nothing could keep him from Jon, not even the man himself. This is where he belongs and this is where he will stay. Where else would he go?
Martin’s eyes swim as he takes one last look. After the change Jon was different but he would always be Jon. Martin had struggled to look Jon in the eye, with the horrible reflective green that felt like they pierced right through his skull if he looked too long. He makes himself look now. One last look. Jon’s expression was full of apprehension, but not of fear. He isn’t afraid of Martin. Jon presses himself against Martin as close as he can get, hands gripping Martin’s, drawing him nearer. It almost hurts more than Jon is looking at him with so much love while holding a knife to his chest. Looking at him like there was no one he trusted his life with more.
Martin moves the arm holding the knife. It would have been easy, except that it’s not. There is a moment of nothing before Jon’s face crumples and he lets out a quiet, pained gasp. The tower is still crumbling and he hears what sounds like a tape recorder beginning to rewinding, but he just looks at Jon with tears in his eyes. Tears for what he just did, for what he was going to lose. Jon is going to be the last thing he saw, not the bloody knife still in his hand, not the body of Elias, not the ruined world coming down around them, just Jon.
Martin reaches out toward Jon’s face and hesitates when he sees the blood covering his shaking hand. He wants to touch Jon so badly, but how can he now that he— now that—
Jon pushes forward into Martin’s palm, smearing blood on his cheek, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Martin almost pulls back but Jon lets go of where he’d be clutching Martin’s sweater to hold the hand to his face. Jon’s grip is desperate as he leans into the hand with his eyes still closed. Martin remembers how Jon had done the same thing the first time he told him he loved him. Jon was so afraid of being a monster. So afraid that Martin was afraid of him. When he told Jon there was no world where he could ever be afraid of him Jon had all but fallen apart. He’d let Martin hold him, just like he was holding him now. Holding him up when his knees gave out, holding him together.
The whirring got louder and Martin feels the pull of the Web they are snagged in. Jon was completely entangled, but Martin less so. He thinks that, if he really tries, he could probably break out, maybe getaway, but he doesn’t. Where else would he go? He belonged right here.
Martin lets the threads loop around him ensnaring him too. Right before they are completely enveloped, Jon’s eyes finally slide open.
They are brown again. Warm and human. The eyes he fell in love with, looking at him like no one else ever had. How could this ever be a world without comfort when he got to have this?
Maybe it’s foolish or naive, but at that moment Martin feels like everything will be alright. How can it not? They were together after all.