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Summary
Jon tries feebly to cover the letter, but Martin’s already snatched it away. This had been much easier when Martin was asleep. Jon forces himself to watch Martin’s face as he reads, as he digests what the man he loves has written. Angry splotches of red are rising to his cheeks, and his voice is no longer soft, “What is this? You were—you were what? Just going to leave me here in the middle of the night?”
Jon needs to return to the apocalypse. Martin doesn't have to.
