Work Text:
They were in the safehouse, laying in one of the beds. They didn’t need sleep, didn’t need anything anymore, but they lay there because that was what they would’ve done in another world.
They clung to each other, hoping against hope to find some respite from all the horrors.
Jon had his head on Martin’s chest, his arms around Martin’s middle. Martin had his hands in Jon’s hair, combing his fingers softly through it. In another world, this moment would’ve been perfect. In another world, this moment would’ve made Jon overwhelmingly happy.
But they were not in another world. They were in this one, and Jon couldn’t help but See. He Saw … everything. He closed his eyes on instinct, but that didn’t help one bit. He opened them again, staring blankly into Martin’s shirt. It didn’t help either. He was always Seeing. Always Seeing everything.
Martin held out a lock of Jon’s hair in front of Jon’s eyes. It was almost completely gray.
“You’re too stressed, old man,” Martin said with a chuckle that quickly faded.
“I think I have every right to be stressed, don’t I?” Jon snapped before he could stop himself.
“Y-yeah,” Martin said, lowering the lock of hair. “‘Course you do. I- I’m sorry.”
Jon sighed. “No, I … I’m sorry. I just …”
“Yeah. I know.”
They lapsed into silence.
Jon had had every right to be so stressed that his hair turned gray. He’d always had every right to be so stressed, even if he hadn’t necessarily known it at the time. Always had every right to be just as paranoid as he was. Should’ve maybe even been more paranoid, more scared, more stressed.
But now? When this … this nightmarish, horrifying world existed because of him? Did he still have that right?
Probably not.
Martin had every right to be stressed, of course. He’d always had. Martin had been nervous and jumpy and paranoid and it was all so understandable, so justified, such a correct and reasonable reaction, and Jon wished more than anything that it wasn’t. Wished that Martin could’ve gone to therapy and worked through his anxieties and that would be that.
But that was in another world, another reality. In this reality, they could not simply dismiss their fears and anxieties and treat them as normal but worrisome irrationalities. No. No, it was all so very rational. Fear was the most natural emotion in this new world. It was the only emotion, really.
Jon could See it all.
He closed his eyes, but that just made him See even clearer. He glared into Martin’s shirt, so angry at the world, at himself, at everything he was Seeing.
Desperate to distract himself, Jon combed through his mind for something to talk about. Something that felt … normal.
There was no normal anymore.
Still, Jon cleared his throat and said, “Martin?”
Martin hummed in response. Was all of this easier for him? Since he couldn’t See like Jon could? Or was the not knowing just as horrifying?
“I’m, er…” Jon almost couldn’t believe he was going to say this. But in another world, this was a conversation Jon would’ve wanted to have with Martin. If they ever got back …
Well, Jon didn’t really think that would be possible. So he supposed there was really no point in having this conversation now at all. Not in this world.
And it wasn’t like they were going to have sex in this cabin, was there? The mere thought of that was so absurd that Jon almost laughed. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to have sex right now, even if they weren’t like him.
So this would never really become relevant. But it was a conversation he would’ve wanted to have in another world, and he wanted to pretend for a little while.
“I’m asexual,” Jon said.
Martin paused for a moment, his hands freezing in Jon’s hair. In another world, this would’ve made Jon nervous. In this world, Jon didn’t have the capacity to be nervous about something so small, so inconsequential. Not when he was Seeing …
Then Martin chuckled softly. “Yeah, I- I know, Jon.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Uhm, work gossip, you know? Things get around, I guess.”
“Oh.” Jon couldn’t figure out if he should be relieved or offended. Ultimately, he was neither. He was only Seeing.
“Yeah.” Martin chuckled. Chuckled in that way that would’ve made Jon a little weak in the knees in another world.
Martin’s laugh was so wonderful. His smile too. Everything about him was so wonderful. Jon couldn’t appreciate it properly. He could only See.
“And it doesn’t … You don’t mind?” Jon asked, because that was what he always did. What he’d done with Georgie, what he always had to do. Dating him came with a pretty big asterisk, and not everyone wanted that.
Some asexual people were okay with having sex, of course. Jon was just not one of those asexuals, and that was something he needed to communicate.
In another world, this would’ve made him nervous. In another world, he would’ve stayed up several nights sleepless because of this before he got up the nerve to talk to Martin about it.
Martin chuckled again. “I think we have bigger problems to worry about, Jon.” When Jon didn’t, couldn’t, laugh with him, Martin continued, “But, uhm, no, it doesn’t bother me. I, well, I don’t wanna sound too cheesy, but I … I love every part of you.”
Jon forced himself to smile, just a little. “Well … good to know. I love every part of you as well.”
Martin smiled. Then, seeming to just now have realized that he’d stopped, continued to comb his hands through Jon’s hair. Jon snuggled closer to Martin, holding his love closer in the hopes that it would block out the horrors and the isolation.
It didn’t work, of course. It never did. Jon just kept Seeing.
Jon wanted to pretend that they were a normal couple in a normal bed in a normal world having a normal conversation about something that normally would’ve made Jon really nervous. He wanted to pretend, for just a moment, that they were not in this new world of his creation.
But he couldn’t pretend. He just kept Seeing.