2021-01-21 19:14:27 ¶ ● ⬀ ⬈

williammatagot:

> (read on ao3)

> Martin doesn’t know how exactly to mark time underground (not that he knew how to mark time above ground, not in the state the world’s in), so he doesn’t try. It’s not as if it matters much, not now that they’re in the home stretch.

> He sleeps when he gets too unsettled watching Jon thrash in and out of unconsciousness with wide-open and long-distant eyes, and he eats when he gets restless and wants a bit of a wander. It’s nice to have a routine that involves something other than endlessly walking, even if it’s not all that exciting.

> Cuddling’s nice as well. It was nice at Upton House, but it feels strange to Martin to look back fondly on things he did with Jon that Jon can’t even remember. Almost violating, somehow, like it wasn’t really Jon. Martin knows that’s a stupid, untrue thought–if anything it was more Jon than Martin’s seen him since before everything started its long, steep slide to hell–but he can’t stop it all the same.

> Still, nice to have it back. Nice to hold Jon tight against his chest, Jon trapping his arm between his stomach and his legs as he curls up. Martin squeezes the life out of every moment, forcing himself to remember every detail, even the dank walls of the tunnels and the distant scent of mold, because…well, it’s like they talked about. This could be it, so Martin’d better remember it clearly, since–since it could be the last peaceful memory of Jon he ever has left to hang onto.

> He’s trying his best to keep himself together. The last thing anyone needs is for him to have a meltdown. If these really are going to be his last memories with Jon, he’s going to do his damndest to keep them as bright as possible under the circumstances.

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