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Monday, September 23rd, 2019
Day 4 of Cat John
It would be disingenuous to say Martin is getting used to waking up with John in his bed, because that doesn't mean what it sounds like it means, but it's true insofar as John is a still a cat and Martin is getting used to the cat in his bed. And it would be fine if it was just a cat, but it isn't, it's John, and it is the worst thing he can think of, settling into the false warmth of familiarity over something that isn't going to last, that is wholly circumstantial, that wouldn't be happening if it weren't absolutely necessary.
Worst of all by far is that when Martin wakes up this morning, curled over on his side like he often is, he finds John pressed up against him, huddled in a ball against his chest, his little body shaking uncontrollably.
"John?" He sits up, not wanting to touch him, but not knowing what else to do. "John, are you-"
No, he's not all right, and what's more, Martin knows exactly why. They had just been discussing it last night, the worsening hunger for Statements, and Martin had watched John prowl around the flat like a hunter with no prey, and he'd felt the horror grip him, knowing exactly how this would go were John still human, seeing fully how easy it is for that state to take him, how little time it actually takes. It was comforting when the possible solution came from John, about the 'psychic amplifier' he'd met - a clever idea, hopefully, made easier by the realization that Martin had met her, too.
He'd thought they might reach out to Blue today. He was already planning to avoid the Archive as long as necessary, to tell Eliot and Kat they were just out sick, wanting to involve as few people as possible in this. But now, seeing John like this, he realizes with a quick, sickening lurch that they've already waited too long. There is no more might, no more thoughtful consideration and planning, there is only the immediacy of John right now looking like he might give out at any moment.
"Christ," he hisses under his breath and hauls himself out of bed. He grabs some clothes and hurries to the WC, getting dressed as quick as he can and brushing his teeth for about three seconds. No breakfast today, no fixing his hair, nothing. When he comes back into the bedroom, pulling on a light jacket, John is still where he was left. Martin draws a shaky, terrified breath before he leans down over him.
"John," he says quietly, "We're going to find Blue. I have to carry you again, I- I'm sorry about this."
As gently and gingerly as he knows how, he slides his hands under John and scoops him up, tucking him back against his chest, folding him into his open jacket and zipping it up partway. John is still trembling violently, and Martin can only hope the added warmth is enough.
"I've got you," he says softly, and regrets it the moment he's said it.
He makes his way outside as fast as possible and is startled but immediately grateful to see a cab parked along the street just outside, as though waiting for them specifically. He hurries over, quick to catch the driver's attention.
"I need you to take me to Crescent and, uh - erm... Archer Ave." That was it. At least his time spent studying the map is paying off.
"Hang on man, is that a cat," say the driver with the same reluctant, apathetic energy Martin's come to expect from many of the natives.
"Yes, he is, and he's not the one giving you directions; I am," says Martin, managing to sound cold and sharp even while barely hanging onto the thread of what he's saying. "You're going to take me to the cafe on that corner. It's a simple route. Two blocks that way and then several down. You're going to do it quickly and you're going to do it now."
He's not sure where all that came from, but if it gets the job done, he'll take it. The driver sighs but mercifully does not argue, and about five minutes later Martin is stumbling into Un Chat Gris and praying Blue is actually on today.
When he sees her behind the counter he feels like he could cry with relief. "Blue," he says, coming right up to her, dimly aware he's drawing a bit more attention to himself than he'd like. "I - I'm Martin, we met - I need your help."
[Archive Family mini-gathering! While the thread with Blue will obviously be the first thing happening here, after that John will be feeling more like himself, and Eliot and Kat are welcome to get their kicks in as well. Come meet your cat boss.]
It would be disingenuous to say Martin is getting used to waking up with John in his bed, because that doesn't mean what it sounds like it means, but it's true insofar as John is a still a cat and Martin is getting used to the cat in his bed. And it would be fine if it was just a cat, but it isn't, it's John, and it is the worst thing he can think of, settling into the false warmth of familiarity over something that isn't going to last, that is wholly circumstantial, that wouldn't be happening if it weren't absolutely necessary.
Worst of all by far is that when Martin wakes up this morning, curled over on his side like he often is, he finds John pressed up against him, huddled in a ball against his chest, his little body shaking uncontrollably.
"John?" He sits up, not wanting to touch him, but not knowing what else to do. "John, are you-"
No, he's not all right, and what's more, Martin knows exactly why. They had just been discussing it last night, the worsening hunger for Statements, and Martin had watched John prowl around the flat like a hunter with no prey, and he'd felt the horror grip him, knowing exactly how this would go were John still human, seeing fully how easy it is for that state to take him, how little time it actually takes. It was comforting when the possible solution came from John, about the 'psychic amplifier' he'd met - a clever idea, hopefully, made easier by the realization that Martin had met her, too.
He'd thought they might reach out to Blue today. He was already planning to avoid the Archive as long as necessary, to tell Eliot and Kat they were just out sick, wanting to involve as few people as possible in this. But now, seeing John like this, he realizes with a quick, sickening lurch that they've already waited too long. There is no more might, no more thoughtful consideration and planning, there is only the immediacy of John right now looking like he might give out at any moment.
"Christ," he hisses under his breath and hauls himself out of bed. He grabs some clothes and hurries to the WC, getting dressed as quick as he can and brushing his teeth for about three seconds. No breakfast today, no fixing his hair, nothing. When he comes back into the bedroom, pulling on a light jacket, John is still where he was left. Martin draws a shaky, terrified breath before he leans down over him.
"John," he says quietly, "We're going to find Blue. I have to carry you again, I- I'm sorry about this."
As gently and gingerly as he knows how, he slides his hands under John and scoops him up, tucking him back against his chest, folding him into his open jacket and zipping it up partway. John is still trembling violently, and Martin can only hope the added warmth is enough.
"I've got you," he says softly, and regrets it the moment he's said it.
He makes his way outside as fast as possible and is startled but immediately grateful to see a cab parked along the street just outside, as though waiting for them specifically. He hurries over, quick to catch the driver's attention.
"I need you to take me to Crescent and, uh - erm... Archer Ave." That was it. At least his time spent studying the map is paying off.
"Hang on man, is that a cat," say the driver with the same reluctant, apathetic energy Martin's come to expect from many of the natives.
"Yes, he is, and he's not the one giving you directions; I am," says Martin, managing to sound cold and sharp even while barely hanging onto the thread of what he's saying. "You're going to take me to the cafe on that corner. It's a simple route. Two blocks that way and then several down. You're going to do it quickly and you're going to do it now."
He's not sure where all that came from, but if it gets the job done, he'll take it. The driver sighs but mercifully does not argue, and about five minutes later Martin is stumbling into Un Chat Gris and praying Blue is actually on today.
When he sees her behind the counter he feels like he could cry with relief. "Blue," he says, coming right up to her, dimly aware he's drawing a bit more attention to himself than he'd like. "I - I'm Martin, we met - I need your help."
[Archive Family mini-gathering! While the thread with Blue will obviously be the first thing happening here, after that John will be feeling more like himself, and Eliot and Kat are welcome to get their kicks in as well. Come meet your cat boss.]
