Work Text:
The thought of going back to work is easier now that Martin knows Tim isn’t going to be there. It’s an awful thought but a true one. He’d describe it to people as “Tim isn’t himself” but perhaps in the last two years Tim had been more himself than he ever was before. Maybe the charming, flirty, affable all-round nice guy had been a front for all the rage and resentment that had exploded, leaving everyone who knew him picking bits of shrapnel out of themselves.
He’s sorry Tim’s dead, of course. And out of his pain. Went out like how he wanted and all that. But he’s not causing anyone else pain now. Well, apart from his parents, who had two dead kids. Probably wondering where it all went wrong. Which one of the thirteen do the parents have, when they think about their kids dying? The Lonely? The End? Not that it matters, of course. Not to him anyway. It’s not something he has to worry about anymore.
Some pathetic part - on his bad days he feels like all of his parts are pathetic - is pleased that Elias took away his illusions about what his mother thought about him. It occurred to him that he doesn’t have to be sorry about the bad fates of the people who treated him badly. His mother who hated him. Tim who made him cry more times than he’d like to admit. Daisy who didn’t actually do anything but scared the crap out of him every time she showed up.
Melanie’s probably going to get herself killed. And he doesn’t have to feel bad about that. It’s that moment when you see a car go through the light and plow into the side of a truck. You can’t stop it, it’s out of your control, and just being there to see it doesn’t implicate you. She is angry and probably more than a little cruel and will end up dead. It’s just the way things are. Rosie will clean her desk out. The Archives will be even quieter.
Basira’s nice. She shares tea making duties with him and the occasional video of a cat doing something stupid and pleasantries and that is enough. He wants more, longs for more, but is also ok with not getting it. The Institute is paying for therapy and he asks the therapist if that’s him being well adjusted or just numbness. The therapist says something about how it’s good that he’s examining his feelings and asks him if he’s tried meditating.
Martin has, actually. He’s signed himself up for a clean-eating course. He’s making more of an effort to read. Even went to a bar the other night and had sex with someone called Rupert in the toilets. It’s all been very pleasant.
Flowers aren’t allowed in the ICU. That’s fine, Martin is allergic and it’s not like Jon can appreciate the gesture. Jon never really appreciated anything Martin did for him. Even when or if he wakes up he’ll listen over the tapes of Elias’s arrest and offer some criticism. Maybe this time he’ll look into Martin’s eyes and say something and all that Martin feels for him will die.
It’s a nice thought.
You can’t really talk back to Peter Lukas. The man sits there, absorbing anger and fear and pain like a bricks soaking in sunshine. Martin heard Melanie screaming at him from down the stairs. Martin looked at Rosie and found himself rolling his eyes. She gave him a tense half-smile. Martin hadn’t considered what it must be like for Rosie. She might have been the only person alive who actually liked Elias.
Two weeks is a lot of time to fill but Martin’s got a lot of TV to catch up on. He’s always liked nature documentaries, maybe he’ll have a David Attenborough marathon. Just him, a bowl of vegan ice cream, and the spiders in his closet. Or spider. Maybe there’s just the one. Can they catch you if you’re not afraid? Or are they drawn to your not-fear, wanting you more because you are so hard to grasp? Probably a question that can be answered by listening to statements but Martin likes the thought of going a while without hearing the click of a tape recorder turning itself on.