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A Guest for Mr. Crain // for John, Luke, Saoirse, & Greta
After the dream and John's subsequent visit, Martin knows he isn't getting back to sleep, so he spends some time steadily mainlining tea and studying his map of the city, noting what few places have any relevance to him. He circles Un Chat Gris, the Bramford, and the location Anduin had given him for... BUR, apparently. The approximate location of Greta's cottage is easy enough to find. And there's Green Gardens, where she said she worked. That's where he and John are headed, so John can meet her, and more importantly ensure that she's not been made some sort of target by Martin's demons.
He considers texting her again to let her know he's coming. He really ought to. What if she's not working today, or what if... Well, suppose the sight of two strange men wandering up to a childcare center isn't going to be a welcome sight for anyone else who might work there? He likes to think he at least is relatively nonthreatening, but John probably merits some sort of advance notice.
And yet, when he looks at his phone, at the last message she sent him, he finds he can't do it. He doesn't trust himself not to start going into too much detail about why, and... and why he wants her to meet his... whatever John is to him. His 'friend'? He glances surreptitiously across the table to where John is still quietly focused on his own phone. They've been sitting in silence for a long time now, cohabiting well enough, but that's largely circumstance and that they used to be quite practiced at it. It's not exactly a social thing.
Considering how to describe his relationship to John for Greta is enough of a hindrance before he could even get to the wherefores of it. And anyway, Martin doesn't particularly enjoy texting. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts from spilling out in a heaping mess normally than when there's literally nothing to stop him, and the anxiety of waiting for a typing indicator usually makes it much worse.
So it may be a little awkward, him and John just showing up. But it's an awkwardness he'll deal with. It'll be fine.
Eventually he gets up to shower, which feels very odd indeed with John still in the flat, but... best not to dwell on it. He washes quickly and changes into the new clothes he got himself. They're all right. Not very different from what he used to wear, though it's too warm out for a jumper and he feels a bit silly in just shirtsleeves. Perhaps if he rolled them up? He thinks he'd look like a bit of a prat if he did that. He can't pull that type of look off, not the way someone like Tim or John could. Eventually, he settles for leaving the shirt untucked, which is still a bit weird but at least makes him look less like an accountant.
"All right?" he says as he steps back out, finding John more or less where he left him. The sun's risen by now, and there's a narrow shaft of light from the window illuminating the edge of John's jaw. Martin looks away, moving toward the door to put on his shoes. "It's not too far, I thought we might do with a bit of a walk."
A walk with John promises to be no less uncomfortable than the current situation, but at least they'll be doing something.
He considers texting her again to let her know he's coming. He really ought to. What if she's not working today, or what if... Well, suppose the sight of two strange men wandering up to a childcare center isn't going to be a welcome sight for anyone else who might work there? He likes to think he at least is relatively nonthreatening, but John probably merits some sort of advance notice.
And yet, when he looks at his phone, at the last message she sent him, he finds he can't do it. He doesn't trust himself not to start going into too much detail about why, and... and why he wants her to meet his... whatever John is to him. His 'friend'? He glances surreptitiously across the table to where John is still quietly focused on his own phone. They've been sitting in silence for a long time now, cohabiting well enough, but that's largely circumstance and that they used to be quite practiced at it. It's not exactly a social thing.
Considering how to describe his relationship to John for Greta is enough of a hindrance before he could even get to the wherefores of it. And anyway, Martin doesn't particularly enjoy texting. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts from spilling out in a heaping mess normally than when there's literally nothing to stop him, and the anxiety of waiting for a typing indicator usually makes it much worse.
So it may be a little awkward, him and John just showing up. But it's an awkwardness he'll deal with. It'll be fine.
Eventually he gets up to shower, which feels very odd indeed with John still in the flat, but... best not to dwell on it. He washes quickly and changes into the new clothes he got himself. They're all right. Not very different from what he used to wear, though it's too warm out for a jumper and he feels a bit silly in just shirtsleeves. Perhaps if he rolled them up? He thinks he'd look like a bit of a prat if he did that. He can't pull that type of look off, not the way someone like Tim or John could. Eventually, he settles for leaving the shirt untucked, which is still a bit weird but at least makes him look less like an accountant.
"All right?" he says as he steps back out, finding John more or less where he left him. The sun's risen by now, and there's a narrow shaft of light from the window illuminating the edge of John's jaw. Martin looks away, moving toward the door to put on his shoes. "It's not too far, I thought we might do with a bit of a walk."
A walk with John promises to be no less uncomfortable than the current situation, but at least they'll be doing something.