It's hard not to regret his own suggestion when John agrees to it. It feels much too frightening when he actually thinks about it. But he can't back out now, not when John is getting off the bed and coming up with a plan. It's not a bad plan, Martin thinks. He's pretty sure he could kick someone pretty hard if he really needed to.

So he takes his hand from the cat and slides off the bed just as reluctantly, awkwardly clutching the much-too-big waistband of these silly pants up around him, both for security and to keep them from falling down and tripping him up. He just wishes he could find his own clothes. How can he kick someone and run dressed like this?

He inches toward the open door, staying as close to John as he dares without actually touching him. Part of him really wants to just grab onto him again, but he didn't seem to like that.

The room beyond still sounds quiet, but that's almost worse than hearing someone move around — what if they're keeping quiet on purpose, just lying in wait for them? Martin frowns tightly to stop his lip from trembling, though he doesn't dare speak, even to whisper; he just gives John a tiny nod to pretend he's ready.