Chapter Text
Being locked in a claustrophobic space has always been a recurring nightmare for Martin, not to even bring up the fact that he hasn't eaten anything other than those rotten disgusting peach cans for nearly a week and a half now. He didn't even have the ability to know if his mother was ok- which gave him almost as much anxiety as the constant yet gentle knocking on his door... Every few hours, minutes, seconds, never in a pattern, always different so that you would not expect it, Prentiss would knock with those hollow hands of her.
While in his quarantine he'd try to pass the time trying to sing some song from a musical or those cheap mexican novelas his mother liked watching much more over talking to him- anyways, getting off track, he'd sing songs, or as much as he remembered of them, just to conceal the quietness there was in the solemn darkness of his apartment. It was fascinating, though, that even through those hollow gentle knocks Prentiss would do she'd always be louder than any other sound he could ever imagine hearing. Like, he swears that one time he was almost screaming and still her Knocking would silence him immediately.
But over all that suffocating, distasteful, horrifying experience... The thing that made the pit on his stomach collapse was how Dirty he felt.
It was the fifth day of his second week when he heard it.
A terrifying scream of what he could not think to attribute to anyone but that of Prentiss, that and the sound of... Foam? And almost millions of tiny screeches, it sounded mostly like when you press a pancake to the pan? It didn't really matter, what did matter though was what came after.
It was Silence.
And then the sound of his fridge working again, the light of his kitchen turning on, the sound of everything around him suddenly... Becoming alive- so to say.
And then his voice was what made it.
"Martin? Can you hear me?" It was muffled, and even more so when Martin had grown so used to only hearing those deafening knocking sounds, but he had no doubt of it... It was Jon.
Was this a trick? There wasn't anything that really gave any indication that Prentiss could mimic so beautifully the voice of other people, yet, the panic stayed. What did he know about Prentiss, really? He definitely didn't know nor did he learn anything in the past week and a half that he was with her, not at all.
"Martin, I will force my entry if you don't answer now," Jonathan warned, his voice concerned and gentle, yet firm and secure. God, how he needed security these days...
Minutes passed and he still didn't have the courage to get out of his catatonic state, there was so much comfort in silence, in not being acknowledged- a deep Thunk echoed along his apartment, then another, and another, and another, until the finishing one where he finally heard the sound of a door breaking down and deep ragged breathing from the small living space he had. The steps, he really did recognize, more of a trot now than the slow, delicate walk he was used to, but still secure, still recognizable. And not long after, there he was. It was him after all...
"Ah, Martin" relief soothed the sharp lines that Jon had on his posture and face, it softened his gaze and deflated him so fast that Martin worried that Jon would faint before he did himself. "I'm so glad you're ok, I got so worried that you didn't respond there for a second, I thought she had done something before--- nevermind that, I think you would appreciate a warm bath and some rea-- also- just as warm food, would you not?"
God, would he not... But... "Jon- I- Prentiss, she--"
"There's no need for explanations now, don't worry Martin. We can leave that for later, after supper, or at least a cuppa" and then- then he smiled, a beautiful, flashing smile that only brought his tears to overflow. He would like a bath so much, he felt so dirty. "Oh, it's ok, you can cry Martin, just... Follow me while you do- can i touch you?" Martin nodded. And Jon, honest to god, touched his arm with a gentleness that Martin had only read in poems and all but gently guided him forward through the building he resided into his car "Alright, just sit down, we have quite a trip but we'll be alright, yes? We're safe, Martin"
Oh god, he burned. It was so great.
The trip to Jonathan's Home was full of sound, full of life. The radio was turned on, likely a channel that Jonathan just put there out of pure habit, and maybe if he wasn't still processing everything, Martin would have payed it more mind, he would have tried to decipher some sort of hobby or enjoyment, still as the grumbles of a man and the melodic sound of a woman talked in the radio Martin could do nothing more than use it as white noise as he focused on feeling Real. It was nighttime and raining outside the damp marks of condensation covered most of his window- he was feeling rather hot- and the people outside were few but they still walked around, and they felt real. The lights of the street lamps illuminated the car, the warmness from it giving it all a very... Lo-fi feeling, that he liked even more as he decided to finally direct his eyes to Jon's face, which was scrunched in concentration as he looked insistently at the red light as if it would change to green by only the intensity of his gaze alone.
He chuckled a bit at this, which made Jon look at him in surprise, which made him... Squeak like a schoolgirl. Regrettably.
"I- sorry- I wasn't really laughing at you... Well- I WAS but it wasn't anything malicious, I swear!" He stammered out, feeling his face heat up.
Jonathan... Jon- he... he just laughed back and Martin could do nothing more than to mentally photograph Jonathan's expression. It brought him a warmth that traveled all the way from his stomach to his face as he giggled with Jon.
Jon doesn't really say anything after that, thank god, as they continue the ride only listening to the radio with no thought in mind.
When they reach their destination Jon is kind enough to escort him out of the car, offering him help to get on his feet and walk to the apartment, which was on the third floor. As they silently entered Jonathan's place Martin satiated his curiosity by looking around a bit.
Jon's house, oddly enough, seemed more to have a vintage-like aesthetic, if the soft fabric loveseat with embroidered flowers was saying anything. There was a sweet smell in the air, it smelled just like Jon, tea with a touch of a vanilla essence.
“I didn't know you liked the grandma vibe” Martin tried joking, as he turned around watching the smaller man shrug his oversized coat, he honestly hasn't seen him use that one, Martin wonders if it was from someone else.
“Ah, well, my grandmother cared for me for the most part of my life, i guess I just can't get rid of the memories” Jonathan smiled warmly at him AGAIN -this man would be the death of him- “would you like to take a bath first? I think I have clothes your size…” he comments as he goes deeper into the considerable apartment into a door witch Martin assumes is his bedroom, speaking of which, the larger man stays put awkwardly not knowing definitely if he should go with Jon or not pry into his personal space, quite honestly it's a surprise, as much pleasant that it is, and kind of a miracle that Jonathan had found him and invited him over to pass the night… Right, his head hurt, Jon was right to tell him not to overthink this. He needed a break.
After a few seconds with his thoughts Jon finally got him out of his head by calling him over, Jonathan's bedroom was very cozy too, he had a nice bed frame which was distinct and stylized with intricate designs. Other than that he had very few decorations, as if he had only recently started to live in this room- is that a stuffed bear—
“Here, try this, Martin” he hands him a set of pajama pants and underwear with a shirt that may seem a bit too small for him- but it was better than he expected, the more he would get from these clothes is a bit of a stretch in the fabric from where his belly was, but apart from that it seemed comfortable. How and why Jonathan, a hellishly bone thin, small man, had clothes his size was to be discussed after supper like all the other questions he had.
“God, Jon, thank you, truly. You didn't-”
“Nonsense, now go ahead, the water should go warm, but if it doesn't call me over, ok? Now let's go, the bathroom is right this way.” He stepped out of the bedroom going right beside it to open up the bathroom door for him, “you also have salts and bath bombs if you want to go fancy, you definitely deserve it after all that… and- well… anything I can help you with anything- Anything at all, Martin… just- call me over, alright? You're in no way a nuisance here.”
Martin thought that Jon might be psychic, there's no way he could know what he was thinking.
“I- well uhm um–,” he stammers, like an idiot. “Jon,” he finally says and takes a deep breath in, Jon waits patiently for him and it does something to his stomach. “Are you sure you're sure that you're ok with me– well, me imposing myself into your house and all this. Like, I swear, I'm pretty sure I can just find a hotel nearby or something like that-” he goes on and on, spiraling in his head until what he initially meant made no sense anymore.
Jonathan, thankfully, stopped him before he could vomit all the words he had in his mind on him.
“Martin, what did I just say, in no way, shape or form you're being a nuisance here. I'm really sure, I'm offering for a reason.” He smiles warmly at him. Martin stayed quiet for a few seconds looking at both his eyes, as if trying to decipher a code, looking for some sort of hint, for what? He found himself not knowing even what he was looking for.
Martin sighed “alright,” he smiled back, more like a grimace, but he hoped it got the message through. “Thank you, Jon.” and in he went.
—
His time in the shower, for as short and quick as it was, was a complete blessing. The warm water did its good work and gave Martin the opportunity to get all the grime and dust off him. After days without proper lighting, gas and water, suddenly having all three of these things plus someone who he had a hopeless crush on taking care of him. It really did something to Martin that he would rather repress for now before he did something completely stupid.
When he finally got into the clothes he was glad to see that it all fit him perfectly, perhaps he was overestimating his size- wouldn’t be the first time, but it still brought a tight anxiety in his chest to think like that of himself- Anyhow, feeling refreshed and finally clean, he stepped out of the bathroom.
Spices and the warm scent of a good meal made its way through his nose, leaving him with a giddy feeling as he stepped into the kitchen area, and- well, there he was. In the shower for a brief moment he thought again that this all must be a dream. But when he saw Jonathan, deciding if he should put some cinnamon or turmeric on what appeared to be curry, wearing that same frown he wore when concentrating in a complicated statement, he just fell into consciousness once again.
“I think both of them should be good,” he comments, quietly, while slowly approaching Jon. The shorter man locked eyes with him, his face immediately softening- (does Jon want to give him a heart attack??) “The sweetness of the cinnamon brings the whole meal together and you can't do curry without a bit of turmeric, it's gotta have some spice or it really isn't curry”
“That's a good point, I just didn't know how much spice you could handle… guess we'll have to see” he teases, and Martin chuckles a bit, all the weirdness of the situation hurts his head so much but as Jon adds the spices to the sauce and incorporates it slowly the need of being useful overpowers him.
“I'm going to arrange the table while you finish with that- i-uhm- if- if you don't mind me going through your things, of course” he stammers out, suddenly self-conscious -what is going on? Is he in some kind of hyper-hallucination? It sure felt real, but how- Jon nods smiling at him with a hint of understanding,
“Can you put three plates on the table? The cutlery should be in the second drawer on your right.” Martin nods as he does what he's instructed, his mind a haze until he actually processes what he was told to do.
“Wait- Three? Is someone else coming?” Martin frowns, unable to keep his questions anymore. “What- what's going on Jon? D-di-did you know that Prentiss was in my house? Why didn't you come earlier- why are you suddenly so… accommodating to me? Is- is this some kind of mmm-mind control-thing? What is going-”
“Dad?”
The pit of his stomach was made so much worse at the sound of a third presence in the room, it's tiny, soft and delicate voice which sounded like a scared child that was woken up suddenly. Martin's dread was almost palpable as he looked up and met the little girl's eyes- crepuscular Dark jet-black eyes, which seemed to Eat every ounce of vitality Martin's own had, it absorbed all brightness with its overcasting form, reassembling a Black hole in its prime, an inky feeling all around his body which made him feel out of place in his own body, ceasing him of any sensation he ever had. Ripping him out of the earth itself like his own soul was the catatonic bomb that ended it all- he didn't feel nor see or hear Jon snapping him out of his stupor, he just knew he was there, the contrasting sensation of someone truly looking at him feeling more uncomfortable by the second. Was he shouting? Was he crying? He didn’t understand, his brain hurt- and it hurt so much that he couldn’t think no more, he couldn't he couldn't he couldn't he couldn't-
“Martin, it's ok, Open your eyes. There’s light all around you, you just have to See.” Martin gave in and opened his eyes, it felt like it was for the first time colors as bright and saturated as they once were in his long time memories. He saw Jonathan, his eyes, more than two so many that it wouldn't even be even thinkable that his mind was playing games with him, this was real and they all were looking at him like starved animals. Jon was hunched over him- he was sitting in one of the diner's chairs- he was gently caressing his face, but as he saw Martin open his eyes he hesitantly removed his hands from his face and in seconds all the other eyes from Jonathan's face faded.
Martin just sat in silence, no more words needed from the event that just happened, he felt like he needed more than an explanation now and he let his face show it.
Jonathan visibly grimaced at Martin's… complicated, but- mainly confused and disappointed stare.
“Sorry, Martin, I didn't expect this to happen.” He sighs. “I'm sure you're well due for an explanation, I just thought it best for you that we'd wait until you were properly suited to absorb the information. Clearly I was wrong…” he pats his knees and leans away, sighing again and guiding the little girl so that she is standing beside him.
“First of all I'd like to introduce you to Ellie, my daughter.”