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Martin stretches his arms above his head as he walks down the hallway of the movie theater.
Now that they’re here, somewhere else, they get to live a surprisingly normal life. Including date nights! They’ve just been to see a movie (at the latest show time, because having the movie theater to themselves is amazing), and now its time to head home and get some sleep. Sleep that is blissfully free of the paranormal. Sleep where all nightmares come from his own psyche.
Jon is in the bathroom, so Martin is heading outside to wait for him. It’s a bit stuffy inside anyway, and it will be nice to have a breath of fresh air-
Fog. Rolling fog, so thick he can’t see a foot in front of him.
Martin starts to panic, the cold clammy air on his skin, in his lungs, obscuring his vision-
Jon. He thinks. I need Jon, I need-
But he’s stepped too far away from the building, he can’t see the door anymore.
Its fine, he tells himself. This could be normal fog. I’m not alone. I’m not. Any minute Jon will come out of the theater, and we’ll go home.
…But what if he doesn’t? The part of his brain that always thought this was too good to be true is quick to jump in. It found you. Even in another dimension, on another world, away from the fears, it found you. And now it finally has you, and Jon doesn’t have powers anymore, so there’s no one coming to save you. Not like you could ever save yourself, could you? You’re practically worthless, Jon will probably be happier without you.
He can’t breathe.
“Martin! Martin!” A voice calls out from his right.
“Jon?” he croaks, his voice not working. He tries to take a deep breath so he can call out. “Jon! I’m over here!”
Jon stumbles right into him a few seconds later, grabbing on to his arm to steady himself.
“There you are love, are you okay?” Jon asks, looking up at him in concern.
“Is it- It feels like-” Jon catches on to his meaning and shakes his head emphatically.
“Its normal fog, Martin, I promise. Look, we can check the weather report on my phone,” Martin hadn’t even thought to get out his phone. It never worked in the Lonely, and he had spiraled so quickly. “See? Chance of fog… 70%? Well, the weathermen never know what they’re talking about, its clearly 100%. But its supposed to clear up in about an hour, as the wind comes in from the East.”
Listening to Jon talk, huddling together over the light of his phone, it helps.
Martin scoops Jon up into a hug, burying his face in Jon’s shoulder.
“Oh darling, its alright,” his husband says, gently running a hand through his hair. “If you like, we can stay here until it clears up. Or we can make our way to the tube station, its not that far.”
Martin nods a bit, but it still takes a minute for him to release Jon.
When Jon is back on his feet, Martin quickly reaches out a hand to grab one of Jon’s.
“Don’t let go?” he asks plaintively.
“Never,” Jon responds, squeezing his hand lightly. With that, he begins to lead them slowly through the fog, in the direction of the tube.
And he doesn’t let go until they’re all the way home.