Daine offers John a rather vague explanation of what she's going to do, and Martin has to tamp down on the urge to explain it in greater detail, as if he has any idea what he's talking about. He needs to just let her do her business. So he watches the kettle, which heats steadily in spite of conventional wisdom, his eyes flicking repeatedly to John. For several moments there's a silence that he knows is probably productive but cannot help but find hopelessly frustrating nevertheless - the only outward indication that anything is happening at all being the startled lurch John makes halfway to his feet. Martin looks over quickly, but John continues to stare at Daine; and it is she who finally blinks out of her evident meditation and looks at Martin.
When she relays a message, Martin feels for a very embarrassing moment like he could just collapse into relieved weeping, as though there was ever any doubt John was still in there - it just feels so good to know there is a way to talk to him. But beyond that, far more powerful than that, is the shock of the message he actually chose. The first thing John wanted to say, not even knowing if this would work or, or if it'll stick, was to thank him.
Martin looks at Daine for only a moment after she speaks, and then his stare rests fully on John, who's once again sat down. The kettle begins to heat enough that he can hear the water roiling, and he switches the burner off before it can get loud, without sparing it a glance. He feels - it's so stupid, but he still feels like he might cry over that, over something so small and simple. Knowing that as horrible as all this has been, he helped, and John is... that he's grateful.
He manages to smile, weak but deeply relieved. "Oh, I - y-yeah," he says. "Of course. Of course."
What else would he do?
He forces himself to return his attention to preparing the tea. He has a lot of questions he wants to ask, but he's not sure how difficult this is for them, or if there's a limit to it. Probably best to just... get Daine her tea, and wait it out.
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When she relays a message, Martin feels for a very embarrassing moment like he could just collapse into relieved weeping, as though there was ever any doubt John was still in there - it just feels so good to know there is a way to talk to him. But beyond that, far more powerful than that, is the shock of the message he actually chose. The first thing John wanted to say, not even knowing if this would work or, or if it'll stick, was to thank him.
Martin looks at Daine for only a moment after she speaks, and then his stare rests fully on John, who's once again sat down. The kettle begins to heat enough that he can hear the water roiling, and he switches the burner off before it can get loud, without sparing it a glance. He feels - it's so stupid, but he still feels like he might cry over that, over something so small and simple. Knowing that as horrible as all this has been, he helped, and John is... that he's grateful.
He manages to smile, weak but deeply relieved. "Oh, I - y-yeah," he says. "Of course. Of course."
What else would he do?
He forces himself to return his attention to preparing the tea. He has a lot of questions he wants to ask, but he's not sure how difficult this is for them, or if there's a limit to it. Probably best to just... get Daine her tea, and wait it out.