John's demeanor changes, and no amount of anticipation or expectation makes it any easier to bear. Martin finally looks at him, his own convictions about what he may or may not deserve taking a temporary backseat to concern, and... and bloody regret. He knew this would hurt, but the way John seems to shut down before him makes him rethink, far too late, which of them it might hurt more. That, courtesy of time and Elias' taunting reassurances, he's long since accepted the fact that this was a piece of shared knowledge, that John was going to hear it, had heard it, because why wouldn't he? That maybe John hadn't thought about it like that, that maybe, obviously, John with his overachieving propensity for guilt would take this as some sort of indictment, whether Martin intended it that way or not.
"John..." he says softly, and ends up shifting his position a bit, shuffling awkwardly so he can sit a bit closer. He doesn't want to crowd him, but he doesn't let go of his hand, and doesn't want them to just be sat there not looking at each other. "It's not like... Look, even if Elias hadn't said, I knew you were going to hear it. That was sort of a given. That's how it all worked, and I went in knowing that. I mean, I—I'd expected, I'd hoped, that you were coming back, you know... alive. That you'd hear it right then and we'd have to talk about it, and..."
He's not sure how helpful that is, if it's helpful at all. Just because they worked for the evil grandmaster of eavesdropping doesn't necessarily mean he's just all right with it; John certainly would never think to presume that. He'd had time to accept its inevitability, something John is in no position to take for granted.
He shrugs and lets his gaze slide away for a moment. "And it's not like... it's not like when you came back I made myself... accessible." He lets that hang in the air for a moment before forcing himself to look at John again. "I didn't mean it like—i-it's fine. I'm glad, all right? I'm glad you heard it, because it... it means I don't have to..."
He shudders and looks away again, sharper this time, irritated with himself for getting caught back up in his stupid, sorry emotions too soon. "I'd just as soon not have to spell all that out," he mutters.
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"John..." he says softly, and ends up shifting his position a bit, shuffling awkwardly so he can sit a bit closer. He doesn't want to crowd him, but he doesn't let go of his hand, and doesn't want them to just be sat there not looking at each other. "It's not like... Look, even if Elias hadn't said, I knew you were going to hear it. That was sort of a given. That's how it all worked, and I went in knowing that. I mean, I—I'd expected, I'd hoped, that you were coming back, you know... alive. That you'd hear it right then and we'd have to talk about it, and..."
He's not sure how helpful that is, if it's helpful at all. Just because they worked for the evil grandmaster of eavesdropping doesn't necessarily mean he's just all right with it; John certainly would never think to presume that. He'd had time to accept its inevitability, something John is in no position to take for granted.
He shrugs and lets his gaze slide away for a moment. "And it's not like... it's not like when you came back I made myself... accessible." He lets that hang in the air for a moment before forcing himself to look at John again. "I didn't mean it like—i-it's fine. I'm glad, all right? I'm glad you heard it, because it... it means I don't have to..."
He shudders and looks away again, sharper this time, irritated with himself for getting caught back up in his stupid, sorry emotions too soon. "I'd just as soon not have to spell all that out," he mutters.