Chapter Text
They’d been driving for hours.
At this point, trees and cows were nothing new, and Martin had stopped pointing out every field of horses they had driven by.
It felt as though they’d never arrive at the Scottish cabin, given the several bathroom breaks and shopping trips that Martin had insisted on, much to Jons dismay.
Eventually, they saw it.
What had to have been easily the ugliest cabin they’d ever laid eyes on.
It had clearly been long abandoned, the windows boarded up and the front door bolted shut. Daisy had stopped visiting years ago, according to Jon. His ability to just Know things was one Martin would never get used to. It definitely caught him off guard. Every time. Without fail.
Jon stared at the boxes in the back through the rearview mirror. He already Knew he was going to throw his back out trying to carry them all in. They hadn’t even brought that much stuff, given that they hadn’t really had much time to pack, given they were running from the law and an evil omnipotent boss.
Martin let out a sigh of relief as the car stopped, immediately taking his seat belt off and sinking into the seat. Jon took off his glasses, resting his head against the steering wheel. They took a moment to collect themselves before getting out of the car.
“Can we atleast check that the front door actually you know… opens, before we get boxes out?” Martin sighed, stretching his legs, wandering a little further from the car than he meant to.
Jon nodded slightly, too exhausted to properly respond. Instead, he made his way towards the door, Knowing that they’d easily get in. The bolt had long rusted, to the point that it would fall apart if the wind blew the wrong way.
Martin trailed behind him, terrified of what might be inside. He knew he had to trust Jon when he said it was safe, there wasn’t really another choice. He couldn’t help but feel anxious there’d be something waiting for them inside.
Martin took a step back as Jon broke the lock before prying the door open. The dust was quick to cause a coughing fit, prompting them to both step away for a moment.
“Well, I Know that it’s empty, but it’s going to need an awful lot of cleaning,” Jon groaned, clearly too thrilled by the idea of having to spend several hours dusting.
“I hate that you know all of this,” Martin admitted, heading back towards the car before Jon had a chance to reply.
Jon followed after him, grabbing as many boxes as he could from the backseat. He aimed to grab the lighter ones, not wanting to risk an injury.
It took a trip or two each before they had all the boxes stacked neatly by the front door, staring at them on the floor.
“What if I just… don’t go in?” Martin suggested, his apprehension evident.
Jon didn’t particularly feel like fighting with him, not today. The drive had been exhausting enough, he didn’t feel any need to make today any harder on either of them.
“We’re going in,” he told the other firmly, making it clear that staying elsewhere wasn’t really an option. They were running for a reason, after all.
“I know this isn’t ideal but… this isn’t a holiday or something. We just need to survive.”
Martin nodded, knowing Jon had a point. This was for survival.
This was for survival.
Everything had been for survival recently. Living had been put on hold for longer than anyone cared to admit. Thanks to Elias, or Jonah… everything had gotten complicated as of late.
The two of them began hauling the boxes into the cabin, dragging them as far into the living room as they could manage without disturbing too much of the dust. The last thing they needed right now was for the dust to get all over their things.
As soon as everything was in, Martin began digging through boxes to find their cleaning supplies, giving Jon time to move the rest through to the bedroom and kitchen. Might as well try and find a home for things while they clean. Two birds, one stone.
Martin didn’t like being out of sight from Jon. The ever present anxiety always felt suffocating when the other wasn’t nearby. As if the Lonely would take him at any moment. Jon knew it too. That he shouldn’t leave Martin unattended for any longer than he had to. But it wasn’t always possible. Things needed to be done, and Jon wasn’t able to watch over him every minute of every day. If he could, he would. But they had to focus on surviving right now. And they wouldn’t if they were so codependent.
Martin tried to focus on the cleaning, hoping to keep his anxiety at bay, at least until Jon came back. The dust was stubborn as anything, clearly having been left untouched for years. He couldn’t help but be mad at Daisy for leaving the place in such a state. Everything else she had done to them didn’t help either, but he decided not to think too much about it.
He could hear Jon rummaging around in the other room, losing a fight against a box as he tried to unpack.
“Jon?” He called through the house, needing a reminder that he was nearby. “Are you okay?”
He waited a moment, relieved when he heard Jon yell back to him.
“I’m fine, Martin,” he yelled, clearly out of breath from carrying everything around, "the boxes are just heavy.”
“Alright,” he sighed quietly to himself as he continued working around the kitchen, trying to find homes for their things.
They didn’t have much, just enough to get by for a while.
He gave the kettle a quick rinse once everything was somewhat put away before boiling some water, wanting to make a cup of tea for himself and Jon. It was the least they deserved after the day they had had.
Jon reappeared as Martin was stirring in his sugar, humming quietly to himself as he did.
He couldn’t help but smile as he watched Martin dance around absentmindedly, unaware he was being watched.
“You’re making tea?” he eventually asked, startling the other.
“Yeah…” Martin went quiet for a moment, almost embarrassed. Jon wasn’t sure if it was over the tea or if it was because he’d caught him so spaced out. “I just figured- you know, since we’ve had a bit of a rough time…” Martin continued, but was quickly caught off by a soft chuckle from Jon.
“Thank you,” was all Jon said as he took the cup, wandering through to the living room so they could sit.
Martin followed awkwardly behind him, his own tea in hand.
They sat at opposite ends of the couch, a silence quick to settle over them. It wasn’t quite an uncomfortable silence, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable either. Martin tried putting it down to the fact that they were both processing everything that had happened as of late. It was a lot, and clearly neither of them felt ready to address any of it.
“Is everything unpacked in the kitchen?” Jon asked after a while.
Martin nodded, “it’s not particularly organized, but everything is roughly where it should be. How did you get on with the other boxes?”
“I unpacked everything except your stuff. I didn’t want to rummage through your things.”
Martin appreciated the sentiment, but he was fully aware that if Jon wanted to know what he had packed, then he could just Know. But it was nice that Jon wanted to at least try and give him some privacy. Although it seemed like they wouldn’t have much privacy now that they were hauled up in a cabin, completely isolated from the rest of the world. He figured that he could ignore anything of Jons if he wanted to, but Jon didn’t really have that privilege. Jon just Knowing things seemed to be becoming more common, and it didn’t feel particularly fun. It was usually something horrific, and Martin was okay without all that information. It felt overwhelming.
“Did you… bring any statements with you?” Martin wasn’t sure he wanted the answer, but he figured it’d be best to know.
Jon was hesitant to answer, but eventually did. “I brought a couple.” He was lying. He had brought almost an entire box with him. Throwing himself into work was seemingly the only thing keeping him sane right now, but he didn’t want to freak Martin out with that.
“Let me know if you want some privacy to read them.”
Jon didn’t reply, instead trying to focus on finishing his tea. He didn’t want to think about work or statements or any of it right now. He just wanted to relax. He hadn’t relaxed in years. Hell, he probably hadn’t felt peace since he was a child.
The two of them continued to sit in silence as they drank, occasionally making small talk as they did. Their moment was inevitably interrupted when Jon put down his now empty cup with a quiet sigh.
“I’m going to finish unpacking the last of my things,” he told Martin.
“I’ll be through in a minute,” Martin replied, looking into his almost empty mug.
Jon nodded before leaving, letting Martin finish his tea.
Jon looked around the empty bedroom before sitting down on the bed with a quiet thud. He stared at the box full of statements, not entirely sure where he was going to keep them. He decided to focus on a different box instead. One that had more personal belongings in it. He placed everything on the bed, trying to figure out where it was meant to be. He had pretty much been living in the archives since he started working there, so his apartment in London was relatively empty. He pretty much only slept there. He wasn’t sure how much space he was allowed to take up. He’d never shared a room before. Even when he was with Georgie, he was practically never home. Something always kept him busy. University, the band, work. He never really slowed down. It was weird having time to just sit and do nothing. It felt wrong. Like he should be being more productive, run off his feet and constantly trying to meet deadlines. But now, he could breathe. He could take a minute to collect himself and at the very least, try to relax.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the bedroom door open, Martin slowly appearing in the frame.
“Can I come in?” Martin asked, only stepping into the room when Jon gave him the go ahead. He sat on the bed next to Jon, glancing over the things that were laid out all over the bed sheet.
“Do you maybe… want some help putting this stuff away?” He offered, not entirely sure why Jon would leave them lying all over the bed.
“Please,” Jon sighed, clearly not thrilled to be accepting the help.
The other stood, carefully picking Jons things up and starting to put them in places that made sense.
He only stopped when he picked up a locked metal box, unsure of what it was.
“Where do you want this?” he asked, not wanting to pry for further details. Jon would tell him if he wanted to, he figured.
“I’ll put it away,” Jon took the box from him, visibly anxious that Martin had picked it up.
“Alright…” Martin raised an eyebrow, glancing at the box and then Jon before he left the room.