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Life had been hectic, since Jon and Martin appeared in Somewhere Else a couple years ago. Hectic was, in fact, an understatement. Turns out its hard to fit yourself into a society you're unfamiliar with when you and your partner don't have legal identities. And, its even harder when you have new disabilities thrown on top of it all, as well as trauma.
One of the first things Jon noticed about coming to this new world was the fact that he can't see it. It made sense, of course, but it was still... something to get used to. To barely see the world in blurry silhouettes, to not be able to see colors or have any accurate depth perception- yeah, it was definitely a challenge.
On top of that, his mobility problems had also gotten a whole lot worse. On good days, he could get around alright with just a cane, or maybe forearm crutches. On bad days, Martin would have to carry him around if he wanted to leave their bed. He was very thankful when they were able to move into a place that was wheelchair friendly.
Martin was also affected by getting ripped away from the Lonely. He was colorblind, now, and unable to see reds at all. They all looked like some shade of green or muddy yellow, according to him. Still, though, he was able to function for the most part, and it didn't hinder him too much.
That, of course, wasn't to mention the way trauma had affected them both.
It was a lot to get used to, all at once, especially on top of everything else they had to deal with. Unfortunately, Martin had to deal with most of it, on top of taking care of Jon, and it made Jon feel awful. He felt like a burden, like he was just adding onto problems instead of helping with them. He wanted to help- god, did he want to, but he just couldn't. He only succeeded in making Martin more stressed whenever he tried.
If their relationship wasn't literally built upon difficult and stressful situations, Jon wasn't sure it would've lasted. But, as it was, they were both more than used to it, and they somehow managed to get through it. At the very least, they could both appreciate the fact that they weren't getting constantly hunted anymore, or trying to stop the end of the world- or dealing with the end of the world. At least finding jobs, a place to live, and affording living expenses were normal problems to have.
It took some time, but finally, things were starting to calm down. Martin had finally gotten a good paying job which meant he no longer had to work two, and Jon had managed to get a remote part-time job. Martin had tried to assure Jon he didn't have to, but Jon insisted. He didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts all day while Martin was at work, and he wanted to feel at least somewhat useful. So, a part-time job it was.
It was... actually nice, for once. It still didn't feel real to Jon, and he was sure it was the same for Martin as well. They both silently waited for the day things went wrong, for the day this life they were building together would fall apart like it had in Scotland. Waiting for the day the Eye called Jon back, or the Lonely took Martin again. Waiting for the day the apocalypse starts, or for monsters and hunters to show up at their door and finally take their prize.
Luckily, nothing like that has happened. In fact, neither of them have seen any signs of the Fears in this world at all. They were sure they had to be here, as they knew they had followed the Fears to this reality, but they haven't made themselves known yet. It was... sort of a relief, in a way, to not have to worry about them anymore. However, old habits die hard, and Jon and Martin both still kept an eye out for them.
Still, though, Jon couldn't help but feel... guilty.
Throughout it all, he felt like more of a burden to Martin than anything. Like Martin would've been much better off if Jon wasn't here with him. It seemed like he only every got in the way, or was yet another stressor for Martin. But, of course, Martin stuck stubbornly by his side. Jon was grateful for Martin- way more than words could ever describe- but he still couldn't help but feel like Martin deserved better.
He didn't want Martin to leave- god no, the thought terrified him- but he couldn't understand why Martin stayed. Jon couldn't help Martin, couldn't take care of Martin the same way Martin took care of him, couldn't provide for Martin the same way Martin provided for him. He was- he was useless, and only added to the list of things Martin had to deal with.
And yet, Martin stayed. Just like he had before. And it utterly and truly baffled Jon.
He must remind Martin of his mum. Martin didn't really talk about his mum, and Jon never pushed, but he knew enough to know that there were similarities. He also knew how complicated Martin's relationship with his mum was, and it hurts his heart to think Martin might feel the same way about him.
Jon hates it. And he hates that Martin just seems so- so okay with it all. Like it doesn't bother him, like he doesn't mind, like Jon isn't just a leech on his back that he can't- or wont- get rid of.
He wishes he could do something, anything, to make Martin's life easier. To do something for Martin like Martin does so much for him. He wishes for once he could ease Martin's burdens rather than add onto them. He wishes he could take care of Martin the same way Martin always takes care of him.
Unfortunately, wishing is pointless, and Jon is stuck the same as he always is. He just dreads the day Martin has had enough of this one-sidedness and finally leaves.
It had been a mediocre day for Jon. A wheelchair day, yes, but he was able to move around and do things pretty alright on his own, for the most part. He even managed to get started on a project for work today. But, that was about all he could manage to do, and was now sat on the couch listening to the television. It was, of course, The Great British Baking Show. He deemed it appropriate, as Martin was currently in the kitchen baking something. He didn't tell Jon what, exactly, but it smelt sweet.
Jon was trying very hard to not think about the fact that he couldn't help Martin like he so desperately wanted to. He tried not to get hung up on the memories of baking and cooking together in the safehouse, and how fun and nice it had been. He tried, but was only moderately successful.
Eventually, Jon heard Martin walk into the living room. He could make out the vague silhouette of him walking up and placing something on the table in front of him, with a clink to go with it. Then, there was a hand on his own, and a kiss placed on his forehead. The casualness of it still made his chest fill with warmth, no matter how many times Martin did it. The couch dipped next to him as Martin spoke.
"I made you tea."
Jon smiled, and squeeze the hand still in his own. "Thank you, Martin."
Martin squeeze his hand back, and Jon could tell he was smiling. At least, he hoped he was.
"So, how's the show going?" Martin asked. Jon hummed in thought.
"Like normal, I suppose. One of the contestants accidentally put too much red food dye in their cake."
"Yikes."
Jon nodded, and there was a brief silence between them as Martin joined him in watching the show. Jon could hear the contestant panicking about the color of their cake.
"I really don't get what they're on about," Martin started. "That cake looks far more green than red to me."
Jon frowned, and tilted his head slightly. "Really? I personally think it looks fine."
"If anything, I think they need to add more food dye. I don't see red in it at all."
"Hm... now that you mention it, I don't think I see any red in it either."
A beat passed.
Then, they both started giggling, which quickly turned into laughter. Jon leaned into Martin's side, which earned him another kiss on his head in response. Even when they stopped laughing, Jon kept his head on Martin's shoulder, and Martin made no attempt to push him away.
It was nice. Being able to lean into Martin like this, being able to joke about their disabilities and their past together, being with Martin in general. Jon loved it. Jon loved Martin, more than words could describe.
He just wishes he could actually show that.
Words were not his strong suit. He was getting better at communication, yes, but it was still a work in progress. He would much rather be able to do something to show Martin how much he cares. He feels that would get his emotions across a lot more than him stuttering through heartfelt speeches that he still didn't feel like accurately conveyed how he felt about the other man.
Christ, Martin deserves better than him. A lot better than him.
Jon jumped when he felt something poke his head.
"Something's been bothering you today. What's up?" Martin asked, voice gentle.
Jon shouldn't be surprised. Of course Martin picked up on it. Why wouldn't he? Jon felt the familiar dread of getting caught, mixed with the guilt of his thoughts. He was already feeling like a burden, the last thing he wanted was for Martin to reassure him about it.
"I-its nothing-" He tried, but Martin was quick to cut him off.
"Jon."
Jon flinched. The "we talked about this, don't lie about how you feel or downplay your feelings" part went unsaid, but Jon heard it anyway. He took in a shaky breath and sat up, not moving away from Martin but at least not leaning on him anymore. He really didn't want to talk about it, but had a feeling he had no choice.
"I-" He started, but quickly stopped himself. The words got caught in his throat, his thoughts a jumbled mess. Where did he even start with something like this?
Martin began rubbing soothing circles on Jon's hand with his thumb, a silent encouragement and something to ground him. Christ, even now Martin was doing it- taking care of Jon when he caused yet another issue.
"How do you do it?" Jon found himself asking after a few moments.
"Do what?" Martin asked.
"Take care of me like its not a big deal!" Jon snapped. "Like I'm not some- some burden on you, or like you don't feel obligated to take care of me! Like I don't just- make things harder on you all the time!"
His chest was tight, and he was sure one push would be all it takes to make him start crying. He tried to control his expression, tried not to show how much this was bothering him, but he'd never been the best at that, especially in front of Martin. He felt Martin grab his other hand, so now he was holding them both.
"Because I am deeply in love with you and care about you, Jon," Martin replied easily. Jon felt his breath hitch at the words.
"I'm not obligated to take care of you, and you're also not a burden. Yes, sometimes you do make things harder than necessary because you're stubborn as hell and don't like to listen, but when that happens we talk through it and sort it out. It's still not enough for you to actually be, like, an issue to take care of or anything. I enjoy being able to take care of you, Jon. It-"
Martin paused, and though Jon's breathing had become shaky, he waited for Martin to gather his thoughts. After a few moments, Martin started to speak again.
"Taking care of people is natural, to me. It's just how I show that I care. Like, sure, I can do words, and physical affection, but doing things for people, helping them when they're stressed or ill or whatever, it- it feels nice, to be able to help. I like helping. I like doing the little things that make people's days even just slightly better. It's just- its part of who I am."
"So no, Jon, I don't feel burdened or anything by having to take care of you. There's nothing forcing me to stay with you or even do anything for you. You're stubborn enough that I'm sure if I didn't keep an eye on you, you'd find a way to do things yourself, even if it hurts you. I stick around and take care of you because I want to. Because it makes me happy to see you happy and taken care of, and because I can't stand the thought of you- struggling on your own. I want to help you, Jon."
Jon's throat felt tight. The urge to cry was steadily building, but he was trying his best to hold it back. He tried to force his breathing to something at least somewhat normal, while he tried to find his voice again. Guilt was eating away at him, and he just couldn't take it.
"I-I- I just-" Jon swallowed and looked away, wanting to hide his face away from Martin. "I wish I could do the same for you, too, Martin."
"Oh, Jon..." Martin's voice was painfully gentle. Jon was quick to shake his head. He needed to explain himself, to say how he felt. He was getting better at it, but he needed to say it now before he lost the courage.
"You- you do so much for me, Martin, and I- I'm so grateful for it, for all of it. But- but I just feel like I can never properly show that. I- I want to be able to, to take care of you like you take care of me- to do those little things that make you smile. But I can't- I can't do that when I can barely even function."
His voice trembled as he spoke, and he was still trying desperately to not cry.
"I just feel like its so- so one-sided. Like I'm just- receiving your affection and doing nothing to pay it back. I want you to know, how grateful I am for you. That I care about you and love you too. I want- I want to be able to do things for you, but I just... can't. And it hurts, to know I'll never be able to repay you for all the things you do for me."
Martin waited until he was sure Jon was done talking, before squeezing his hands.
"Is that what this is about?" His voice was gentle as he asked the question. Still, Jon had to suppress a flinch at being called out so easily. For Martin to be able to tell that that was the root of his feelings. All he could do was nod in response, lest he start crying.
Martin let go of one of his hands, and Jon had already started mourning the loss of warmth before he felt Martin cup his cheek. His breath hitched.
"Jon. You know relationships aren't transactional, right?"
Jon let out a heavy sigh at that. Yes, he knows that, but-
Martin's had slipped away from his cheek for a moment, placing a finger on his lips to stop him from saying whatever he was going to say.
"Let me finish."
Jon let out another sigh but relented. Martin's hand moved back to his cheek.
"I know you know that, but I still felt it important to say. I don't take care of you because I expect something in return. As I said, I take care of you because I want to, because I like seeing you happy. Seeing you happy is enough for me."
Jon frowned. That still didn't make him feel much better about this whole thing. He couldn't accept that all Martin needed was just Jon being happy.
"But also, what the hell do you mean you can't do things for me? You already do."
That caught Jon off guard, and he struggled to say anything in response.
"I- uh- wh- what?"
Martin laughed. It wasn't teasing or malicious, but rather a laugh of disbelief.
"Oh my god, do you not even realize you're doing them?"
"Do- doing what?"
Martin giggled, and even through Jon's confusion and other emotions at war inside of him right now, he still found it adorable.
"Okay, okay- Well, first of all, right now. I'm currently holding your hand and cupping your cheek."
Jon furrowed his brow. Yes, Martin was, in fact, doing that, but what did that have to do with Jon showing Martin he loves him?
"I don't-"
"You hate touch, Jon."
Jon opened his mouth to refute that claim, but found he came up short. He didn't- what?
"I don't think you used to. You seemed alright with it before. But now, you jump every time someone who isn't me touches you, even when you know who it is and that they're going to do it. You don't even like Eliza touching you, and I swear you like her almost as much as you like me. But when its just the two of us? When you know its me? You don't even flinch, and you're the one reaching for me half the time."
Jon wanted to deny that, wanted to say that no, he doesn't hate touch and in fact really enjoys it from people he cares about, but... well, Martin was right, wasn't he? Jon does flinch violently when someone touches him. He has to mentally prepare himself for it, and flinches back every time someone unexpectedly touches him.
That wasn't always the case. If Jon thought about it, he could probably link it back to all the times he got kidnapped and injured. He didn't mind it when Tim slung his arm over his shoulder, didn't mind the shoulder pats Sasha gave him, and didn't flinch when he bumped into Martin, back in their early days of the Archives. But now, touch was... scary. He couldn't help but wonder when the touch would turn violent, when the pain would start, when he'd lose consciousness and get dragged somewhere else.
But with Martin?
Martin is warm and safe and soft and comfortable. Martin is calming and gentle, and everything Jon wants and needs. They were well past their honeymoon phase, and yet Jon still couldn't get enough. It tended to be Martin who pulled away from cuddling or hand holding, not Jon. Jon actively sought Martin's touch out, and complained (complained, for he did not whine or pout) when he was denied.
But it also wasn't like he wanted to be so touch-averse.
"I... Maybe, but that's not- yes, Martin, I trust you and know you would never hurt me, but- it's not like I chose to be so- so jumpy and... scared of touch. So, that doesn't really feel like..."
"Alright, fair point. I mean, just the fact that you do trust me speaks volumes, but I get it. You're worried about the things you do choose to do for me."
All Jon could do was nod in response.
"Well, for someone whose supposedly neutral on poetry, you sure do seem to go out of your way to find good poetry books," Jon could hear the smirk in Martin's voice. Jon huffed.
"Well, yes, because I know you like poetry- but that's- that's not that big of a deal-"
"I don't think you get to decide what is and isn't a big deal to me, Jon."
That- well, Jon guesses he can't really argue against that. Martin had a point there.
"For the record, out of all my previous partners, the only one who went through the effort of trying to find poetry I might actually enjoy was the one who also liked poetry. All the others would just... pick up whatever poetry book they stumbled across and hoped I liked it. So yes, it does actually mean a lot to me that you go through the effort of trying to find ones I'd like. I very much appreciate it."
Jon let himself relax, just a little, and let out a breath. He offered Martin a small smile. "I- I'm glad to know that, Martin."
Martin gave his hand a squeeze.
"Poetry isn't even the only thing. You don't like a solid half the things I do, and yet you still put up with me when I rant about them. Not only do you actually listen, but you also actively ask me about them, and give me a chance to talk about them even if I wasn't planning to. Sure, you might tease me about certain things, but never in a way that actually hurts or bothers me, and you never make me feel ashamed for liking something."
"I- well, I mean, isn't that just the bare minimum?" Jon muttered.
"Even if it is, a lot of people don't do that, Jon. But you do. And it makes me really happy, to know that you care that much, and that you actually listen to me, even if its about something you really don't like."
Jon sighed, wanting to argue more against it but not finding the will to. He knew Martin would win the argument, anyway. Jon had definitely had his fair share of uncaring partners, so he knew Martin was right about that, even if Jon still felt like that wasn't enough.
"Do you want me to keep going?" Martin asked. Jon blinked in surprise.
"Wh- there's more?"
"Christ- yes, Jon, there's more!" He laughed. Jon really had no idea what Martin was going to say next.
"You go out of your way to spend time with me. When I'm watching TV, even one of those 'shitty drama shows' you hate so much, you'll sit on the couch with me with your headphones on just to be in the same room as me. You have no reason to not just stay in our bedroom, but you rarely do."
"You also remember things. I'll say a one-off comment about something and then forget about it, but you remember. Like the one time I complained about having boring curtains in the kitchen, and then a couple weeks later find you replaced them with cow curtains."
"Or, like the second time we went to that café down the street, and I couldn't remember what I had ordered the first time. I nearly ordered the same thing before you stopped me and reminded me I didn't like it. Or, that time we were getting ready to go to Edith's party, and somehow you were the one who remembered which dress pants I found more comfortable."
"You also notice whenever I'm in a bad mood and do whatever you can to try and make me feel better. Even if you can't even walk that day, you still try and help me however you can, even if its just by listening to me vent or holding me."
It was true. Of course it was all true. They were all things Jon can at least vaguely recall, but- he never realized those things would mean anything to Martin. Those actions all came... naturally, to Jon. He hardly even thought about what he was doing when he did them. He just-
Oh.
Oh.
"And," Martin started again. He let go of Jon's hand in favor of holding Jon's face with both hands. "You also do things like this, where you feel the need to remind me how much you love me, just in case I didn't already know." The smile was clear in his voice.
Jon didn't know how to respond to that. He never paid attention to just how many things he did for Martin. He just knew all the things he couldn't do for him, and those things haunted him. All the ways that Martin helped him, that Jon couldn't do for him.
Martin surprised him with a quick kiss, before pulling away and resting their foreheads together. His tone was soft when he spoke.
"I know its frustrating, to not be able to do the things you want to do, no matter how hard you try. I get it. But Jon, it makes me happy just to know you want to do those things for me, and that you do do them whenever you can. But what you do is already enough. You don't need to feel guilty over not being able to take care of me the same way I take care of you. If it bothered me, I would've said something about it already. But it doesn't, because there are multiple ways to show someone you love them, and you show me you love me every day."
Jon didn't realize he had started crying until Martin wiped away his tears and planted a kiss on his nose. That's when Jon finally caved, wrapping his arms tightly around his partner and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Martin easily wrapped his arms around him, one arm around his back and the other beginning to card through his hair.
The two stayed like that, even when Jon calmed down.
"Sorry..." He mumbled into Martin's sweater. His partner squeezed him.
"It's alright. I know it's not easy for you. If you ever need me to remind you how grateful I am for you, then I'd be happy to, whenever you need."
Jon thought about it. He was still learning how to deal with his emotions, how to ask for help and what kind of help to ask for. He really wasn't sure if it would help him or not, but...
"I'll... I'll let you know, if I do."
"Good," Jon could hear the smile even in that one word.
"I love you, Jon. And I very much do appreciate all that you do for me. I honestly don't know how far I would've gotten if you weren't here with me," Martin said. Jon felt warmth course through him at the words, and nuzzled impossibly closer to Martin.
"I love you too, Martin, and I don't think I'll ever be able to accurately show or explain just how much you mean to me... even if I could do all the things I wanted to."
Martin gave him another squeeze and planted a kiss onto his scalp.
"Neither could I."
Jon smiled.
The two stayed in that embrace, until a timer went off in the kitchen. They both pulled away from each other, but Martin snuck another quick kiss onto Jon's lips before he got up to leave for the kitchen. Jon couldn't help but laugh.
Martin came back in a few minutes later, hot pastries in hand.
"Speaking of showing each other how much we love them," Martin started as he sat on the couch next to Jon. "I made us cinnamon rolls."
If Jon wasn't already deeply in love with Martin, this would've been the moment that he'd fall for him. He perked up, and instantly reached his hands out. Martin laughed and handed him one.
He wasn't embarrassed by the sound he made when he bit into it. They were always the best when they were fresh and warm, and Martin's recipe topped any bakery Jon had tried. They were absolutely delicious.
When Jon finished his, he turned towards Martin.
"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
"If you told me again, I wouldn't mind."
Jon grinned. He reached out and found Martin's face, cupping his cheek (he was getting very good at finding Martin's face at this point).
"Martin Blackwood, there aren't enough words in the dictionary to describe how much I love you, and how truly thankful I am to have you with me. I might not ever be able to tell or show you how much you mean to me, but I'll definitely keep trying for as long as I live. Thank you, for everything you do for me."
Jon could feel Martin's breath catch in his throat, and his grin widened.
"Whose the poet here?" Martin mumbled. Jon didn't dignify that with a response, and instead just pulled Martin closer and kissed him. He tasted like sugar and cinnamon, and Jon couldn't be happier.