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Martin looked absentmindedly out the cab’s window, his head resting against the cold glass.
He barely noticed the busy streets slowly turning into wide open grasslands. He barely noticed anything, really. He hadn’t for a while now.
He knew where he was going, at least he thought he did. He hadn’t paid that much attention to what was happening around him.
The soothing noise of waves crashing against the cliff he had stood on still rang through his ears. Even though he wasn’t physically within The Forsaken anymore, he still felt it resting on every bone and muscle in his body.
It felt… calm, numbing. Not a particularly good kind of numbing, but numbing nonetheless.
It had been easy, letting go of everything. Not needing to worry about what other people thought of him, what he thought of himself. Not needing to care if he looked presentable, if what he said sounded harsher than he had meant to, if he had done his everything the way it was supposed to be done. Not needing to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.
In the end, he might as well not be anyone at all. And that felt… weirdly comforting. The world didn’t care if he felt anything. No one cared, so why should he?
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring into nothing, it must have been a while though, based on the feeling of a deep ache in his back.
Jon must have said something to him in that time, but if he did, he hadn't been listening. Or hadn’t remembered, at least.
He felt the soft pull of someone guiding him out the cab, and into a house. He was pretty sure he replied to something the other had asked, even if he didn’t know what that was.
He had the vague sensation of more time passing as he made his way around the new house, getting lost in the repetitiveness of unpacking. The soft waves crashing onto that cliffside. He could almost feel the droplets of ocean water fall onto his skin. The soft wind messing up his hair as the cold is seeping through to his bones.
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself be taken back to that place.
A part of him knew he shouldn’t, he wasn’t alone anymore. He shouldn’t feel this way. It wasn’t a good place for him. But the promise of not never having to feel anything again had been alluring. It still was.
He had tried to feel again when Jon appeared in front of him, taking his hand, and telling he wasn’t on his own anymore.
And for a bit, it worked. Everything had been overwhelming, it had been too much. Going from nothing to everything all at once was just too much. It hadn’t taken long for him to slip back into the familiar.
He had been isolated for so long after all, even before Peter had banished him into the Lonely. Returning back to that feeling had been easy.
He lay curled up, a blanket half draped over him, on the right side of the bed. His back turned towards the middle. He was vaguely aware of Jon’s presence beside him, though they didn’t touch.
He balled into the blanket, grabbing it tightly into one of his fists.
He took a shaky breath, as he was once more in the place for Those Who Are Alone. He was standing on a shore, a light house visible on the horizon.
The water lapping softly at his feet. Calling to him. Promising to make it all go away.
Would someone care if he went? He took a step into the water, it was cold. Freezing, even. The siren's song pulled him in deeper and deeper. Until he no longer could feel the ground, until he was with his head under water.
He had always been told drowning could be strangely peaceful, as the water pressed in around you, filling every part of your body.
He opened his mouth, taking a deep breath, letting the pain he was barely capable of feeling wash over him.
A hand pressed into his shoulder. He gasped, feeling the water press too close, seeping in too deep. In a panic, he broke through the surface. The sea was gone.
He was still in the safehouse. Kneeled to the floor.
“Are you okay?” A voice asked him softly, draping a blanket over his shoulders.
Jon was there. Jon cared, he reminded himself.
“I’m fine.” He lied. Jon looked at him with eyes that never seemed to rest. He awkwardly knelt down beside him.
“I… I Know you were back at that place.” He said, avoiding his eyes at admitting he had looked into his head.
He should feel upset about it, but he couldn’t be bothered. Martin stared out in front of him.
“I’m not anymore.” He said, a wave of relief falling over him. “Not as long as you’re here.”
Jon smiled beside him, as he gave Martin a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you.” He whispered to him.
“I love you too, Jon.” He will never forget that. He should never forget that.
“‘Come on” Jon said as he got up, holding out his hand for Martin to grab. Without second thought, he took it, and allowed himself to be lead back to his, no, their bed.
Laying back down, he felt arms wrap around him. He looked down as Jon pressed himself close to him, refusing to let him go.
Martin smiled, as he wrapped his arm around the smaller man, allowing him to settle his head onto his chest. Planting a kiss on his head. His heart fluttering at seeing the man he had loved for so long in his arms.
Feeling everything at once was too much, but this he could deal with. He could allow the sensations of life to slowly come back to him. He closed his eyes, letting the echoes of oceans and wind fade into the background. He was safe, he was happy. He was not alone.