VI.
There is a yellow door.
Jon is fairly certain, that their new home did not have a yellow door when they had first viewed it, nor when they had started moving the apparently endless number of boxes through its, then, single front door and had kept running into each other whilst doing so, boxes piled high in their arms. The fact that the second door is situated between the very edge of the front of the house and the window that looks out from their, still disassembled, guestroom kind of gives it away as well. Maybe Helen had been tired or distracted, or whatever – it had been hard to say with her when Jon had still been able to just know things.
“Martin, dear”, he now calls from outside the tiny cottage that is overlooking the grey-blue waves and empty beach, never taking his eyes off the newest addition to their home, “could you come outside for a second?”
There are no passers-by anywhere near the beach on a rainy Thursday afternoon, but Martin’s face is still pink when he leaves the mess of unorganized boxes that is currently their living room and joins Jon outside.
“Do you really have to do that?”, he asks once he’s reached Jon, who only raises an eyebrow, arms still crossed in front of his chest as he leans back against the single pine in front of their house.
When they had started unloading the furniture lorry in the morning, Jon’s hair had been tied back into a single plaid but at this point, most of it has come loose and frames his face in loose strands instead, swaying gently when the wind catches them.
“Would I do it, if I didn’t have to?”
Jon doesn’t even try to hide his smile and Martin has to bite his tongue in an attempt to no blurt out anything too cheesy.
“What did you want?”, he asks instead, voice still soft.
“Come here for a moment”, Jon says, placing his hands on either side of Martin’s shoulders and gently guiding him until he has his back to the house.
“If you just wanted to make out, you could have-“
“Sadly, not what this is about right now”, Jon cuts him off, slipping his hands up to cup Martin’s face and prevent him from turning around, “just have to double-check on something”
“Do I have to be worried?”, Martin sighs but lets Jon do as he pleases.
“I’m not sure yet”, Jon shows him a quick smile, then goes on, “how many doors does the house have?”
“Two. The front door and the French window in the back”
“Okay, keep that in mind and turn around”
“O, for fuck’s sake”, Martin sighs when he looks back at their house and his eyes land on the yellow door.
“My thoughts exactly”
“Should we do something about it?”, Martin asks, taking a step backwards until he’s next to Jon again, “Or just leave it alone?”
“The age-old question”, Jon says, and Martin elbows him in the side.
“Is she going to just leave if we ignore her?”, Martin asks without any real conviction.
“I don’t think so”
“Yeah, I know”, Martin sighs again, “just wanted to pretend to have choice for a moment”
“I’m afraid that moment’s over”, Jon takes a deep breath, then turns to Martin, “do you want to wait back here while I go and-“
“Don’t be stupid, Jon”
Martin links his fingers with Jon’s as they start back towards the house and the door that shouldn’t be there. Its surface is surprisingly cool when Jon raps his knuckles against it and they both take a step back, just in time as the door swings open.
“Archivist”, Helen beams at him, but her expression changes the moment her eyes land on Martin.
“I came here while he was inside for a reason, youknow”, she tells Jon.
“But since he”, Martin bites back, eyes narrowed, fingers tight around Jon’s who squeezes back, “is there as well, you can either fuck right off or say what you came to say”
“Touchy”, Helen raises an eyebrow, “I really thought, marriage would make you less testy”
“It did”
“I see”
“So what will it be, Helen?”, Jon asks into the uncomfortable silence, “and I’m not the archivist anymore. In any way, shape or form”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“Yes”, Jon deadpans while Martin rolls his eyes beside him, “What do you want, Helen?”
“I just wanted to congratulate you two”, the grin is back in place and it stretches too far to both the left and right, “disrupting Jonah’s ritual, finding such a lovely home in this economy”, she makes a show of turning and taking in the sight, “getting married”
With every word, her hand gestures become more elaborate.
“Thank you”, Jon says, nodding his head, nodding again towards his and Martin’s linked fingers as if that were the reason, he does not accept her outstretched hand, “Is it worth trying to ask why you didn’t want both of us there, seeing as we did all of those things together”
“The latter two things”, Helen corrects, “if that were all that had happened since our last chat, I wouldn’t have bothered to try and get you alone”
“Get me”
“Poor choice of words”
She winks. Jon can almost hear Martin rolling his eyes beside him.
“When have I ever done anything to cause you harm, archivist?”
“Was there anything else you wanted to say?”, Martin asks before his husband can answer, “we’re actually kind of busy at the moment – and no, we don’t want to resume this chat at some point”
“Is he always like this?”
“No”, Jon says, just as Martin says “yes”.
“Why didn’t you want Martin to be there while we talked?”
“Why doesn’t the mouse come close while the human in the room has a flyswatter in their hand? Your Martin-Dear has made quite a name for himself; few people expected anyone to take down Jonah Magnus, never mind-”, she stops to cast a look at Martin, whose face shows equal parts annoyance and apprehension.
“If you’re that scared of him, you might want to try to be a little nicer”
“What fun would life be without a little risk?”
“Is”, Jon starts, fighting the urge to heave a sigh or raise his voice, “is anyone looking for us?”
“Not right now; no one wants to draw your-“, Helen cuts herself off, turning to Martin directly, “your attention enough to risk it”
“Except you”, Martin holds her gaze.
“I wouldn’t know anything I did to antagonise you – and, as I said, I just wanted to congratulate my favourite little couple”
“And when our little chat is over”, Jon goes on, “will you tell the other avatars where and how to get to us?”
“Why should I? I don’t work with those people, never mind for them”
“No, you just wanted to say hi and congratulate us”
Martin tries not to look straight into the tunnels that open up behind Helen as he listens to Jon. The floor seems to round a corner almost right behind the door, but then doesn’t, heads the other way, up and down and Martin’s vision starts swimming the longer he looks, so he trains his eyes to the window beside the door instead.
“Exactly”
“If, say anyone did decide to try and go after us”, Jon says slowly, “would your first reaction be to tell us? As, say, a late wedding present?”
“You don’t ask for presents”, Helen tsks, but her eyes lit up, literally, “although it would be a lovely thing, wouldn’t it? A gesture wrapped in a bow without the bow”
“You could put one on when the time comes”, Martin suggests, frowning once the words have left his mouth, and Jon casts a worried side-glance towards him.
“Marvellous idea”, Helen claps her hands, “you don’t go after me, no one goes after you and bows all around. Lovely”
“Then we’ll see you then”, Jon agrees, and Martin nods beside him.
“At the very latest”, with a last wave, Helen turns on her heel and pulls the door almost shut behind her, “do enjoy your honeymoon”
Then she’s gone.
“Are you okay?”, Martin asks as soon as the door is gone.
“Me? I’m not the one who got told, he’s too scary for the monsters to mess with”
“That’s not what she said”
“It is”
“If I tell you that it isn’t, will we be locked in that circle until one of us dies of dehydration?”
“If it takes you that long to accept it”, Jon cocks his head to the side and blinks up at his husband, the little crease that appears between Martin’s brows when he’s annoyed is still there, “face it, Martin; you are the new big bad, the fiercest-“
“Shut up”
But Martin’s grinning now, eyes still trained to the floor.
“I’ll never convince you, how, and yes, I’m aware of the fact that you hate that word, but how brave you were, will I?”
“I hate it when you call me that because I wasn’t- I was desperate and scarred out of my mind”, Martin’s voice grows fainter, the smile slipping of his lips like raindrops from a leaf, “when I thought, I’d killed you I would have done anything to get you back”
“You still did it”, Jon shrugs, “you also managed to play Peter for months”
“Still ended up in the Lonely and would still be there if it weren’t for you”
“Yes, and I unwittingly finished Jonah’s great stupid plan by following you, so what does that make me?”
“Stupid”, Martin replies without missing a beat, he sighs and brings their joined hands up to his face to kiss the back of Jon’s scarred hand, “as stupid as me, I guess. The world’s lucky we tend to cancel each other’s idiocy out in the end”
“Now that should have been our vows; stupid till death do us part”
“I liked the actual ones just fine”, Martin says softly and Jon grins, stretches onto his toes and kisses his husband’s lips instead of his hand.
“Me too”
---
“Hey, Martin?”, Jon asks later that evening as they settle down for the night on the mattress that one day will be part of the bed they couldn’t face assembling tonight, and that now simply lays in largest free area of their bedroom that is not currently cluttered with boxes and crates.
“Yes?”
Martin is still fiddling with the last button of his pyjama jacket when he turns to his husband, crosses his legs underneath himself and stretches his arms up above his head. His back pops audibly in the still night air and both of them wince.
“Come here”, Jon says softly, although it is really him who scoots closer to his husband until Martin is basically sitting between Jon’s legs and Jon can place his hands on his back.
“Jon, you really don’t have to-“
“Shush”, Jon kisses the back of his neck, just above his collar as he gently pushes against the small of Martin’s back, “sit up straight, my love”
“They only thing straight in his house then”, Martin mutters when Jon’s fingers carefully press down, moving slowly apart as they feel for the especially tense areas and Jon snorts.
Martin yelps quietly when his husband’s fingers come across a kink near the base of his neck and dig into it. Jon ducks his head and brushes a quick kiss against where his fingers had just pressed down before he continues.
“What did you want to say earlier?”, Martin eventually asks, once Jon has slipped his arms around his waist instead and has pulled Martin backwards against his chest, “and thanks”, he adds, turning his head to kiss Jon’s jaw.
Jon rests his chin against the top of Martin’s head, just because he can in this position without having to stretch up and because it’s nice to feel Martin’s soft curls press against his neck and chin as he holds him close.
“I just wanted to ask you something”
“Go ahead then?”, Martin prompts softly when Jon doesn’t continue for several minutes.
“Just…”, Jon shakes his head and starts over again; “You really don’t think, you’re a hero, do you?”
“No”, Martin says slowly, drawing out the o, “I’m not stupid”
“It’s the truth though”
“Jon…”
Jon has his legs wrapped around Martin’s middle before Martin can even think about pulling away and getting up and Martin catches himself grinning for a second despite himself.
“I didn’t do anything”, he goes on as he places his own hands over Jon’s, “I never really do anything, I just get in the way of people”, he shrugs, trying not to hit Jon with his shoulder, “and it’s fine, really, I’ve always known, I’m not really the type to- well, I’m really not cut out to be a hero”
“Just because you actually pause to think before you barge headfirst into danger, does not mean, you’re any less-“
“Jon”, Martin interrupts, shaking his head, “you don’t have to try and-“
“But-“
“No”, Martin says firmly, “I always stayed behind while everyone else was off being brave, I distracted Elias way back when while you, Tim, Daisy and Basira went off to blow off the unknowing. I stopped you from reading out his statement and the aftermath utterly wrecked you, but I never, ever put myself in danger and I never had to suffer any consequences so don’t go on and try to and tell me I did something heroic when I definitely did not, okay?”
“That’s not what happened, Martin”
Jon hugs him tighter, his husband’s chest rising and falling a little harder than normally in his arms.
“I was there, Jon”, Martin reminds him in a tight voice, “I saw what happened to Basira, Melanie, Daisy, Tim, Sasha and you; I was with you when- and while you got better, but I was always lucky while all of you-”
“I did not have Jonah break me down while I distracted him all on my own”, Jon says too fast to even attempt to soften the blow, “I did not have to worry about almost killing you whilst saving the world-“
“You keep saying that but-“
“I keep saying that, because it doesn’t stop being the truth, no matter what you’re telling yourself, Martin”, Jon says firmly, “this world would have been lost the moment I’d have finished reading Jonah’s statement, and you are the only reason I did not”
“Still, pouring out a little bit of paint isn’t exactly heroic”
“And reading out from a piece of paper should by no means cause the apocalypse, but if I learned anything during the last years, it’s that normal rules don’t really apply as soon as it comes to all this supernatural shit”, Jon insists almost desperately because Martin can be stubborn beyond belief, “never mind that you were willing to work with the lonely to try and keep everyone safe- Martin, we went through this before; you don’t have to tear yourself in half in order to do good, you know that”
Martin doesn’t reply, just presses his lips together as he stares straight ahead.
“You will never believe me, will you?”, Jon eventually asks softly, no challenge in his voice, “not really”
“I didn’t know, you knew about my talk with Jonah”, Martin says after a couple of minutes and Jon sighs quietly into his curls.
“I didn’t mean to”, he kisses the back of Martin’s neck before he goes on, “it’s just that the more I thought about someone, the more I knew, and, well I thought a lot about you ever since you came back”
“What do you mean? I was always there once Jane Prentiss- oh”, Martin stops, ducking his head on instinct as the thought sinks in, “that was-“
“-when got over myself, yes”
“I didn’t know”, Martin says again, voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s not like I really talked to anyone after you found Gertrude’s body, is it?”
“Not really”, Martin agrees softly, “Jon, can you let go a moment so I can actually see you while we talk?”
“Yes, sorry, wait a second”
Jon does let go and Martin scoots backwards until he too can rest his back against the wall behind him. He slumps a little until he can rest his head against Jon’s shoulder, who laughs before he lays his own head against Martin’s. Their hands link between them almost without them realizing and the cool silver of Martin’s wedding band presses against Jon’s skin.
“Jonah shouldn’t have shown that to you”, Jon says lamely, squeezing Martin’s hand tighter in his.
“It’s hardly the worst thing, he ever did to anyone”, Martin shrugs, trying his best not to let the memory of himself completely loosing it in front of Elias- Jonah resurface, trying not to remember what he’d shown him.
“Still a huge dick move”, Jon mimics his husband’s tone of voice, making sure to knock his shoulder against Martin’s when he adds the shrug and Martin can’t help himself but laugh, “which is bad enough, isn’t it?”
“I guess so”, Martin agrees in the softest tone of voice.
“And I”, Jon adds, forcing himself not to avert his face but turn his head to face Martin, “I need you to know, that I do really, truly love you- I know, that you don’t really believe that either, but it’s still true”
“I thought it stopped when-“
“I’ve known that ever since started knowing things”, Jon lays his hand against Martin’s cheek, when he squeezes shut his eyes, “I’m sorry Martin, I never wanted to say anything about it, but I feel like you should know”
“I think, it’s good you told me”
“I’m also sorry, that I knew that in the first place – I really had no right-“
“Do you”, Martin cuts him off, squaring his shoulders, “do you believe me, when I say that I love you? Now, that you can’t just know anymore”
“I”, Jon pauses, “I do but I’m constantly worried, you might have changed your mind”
“I haven’t”
“That’s good to know”
Jon smiles up at him.
“I could promise you to tell you, as soon as I’ve changed my mind, you know”, Martin suggests after a couple of minutes, more to himself than the room at large.
“I’ll do the same then”, Jon agrees
He bites his lip as not to blurt out, “although it’ll never come to that”, just as Martin has the same thought and too keeps silent, only turning his head to bury his face in Jon’s chest, who wraps both arms around him, and starts stroking his soft curls with his good hand.
They sit in silence for some time, Jon twirling Martin’s hair around his fingers as he holds him close and Martin trying to keep his eyes open while Jon’s heartbeat does its utmost best to lull him to sleep. Even after almost one year of this, Jon’s heart needs some time to slow down and beat normally again when he’s this close to his husband and, while Martin would never tell Jon about it, it makes him fall just a tiny bit more in love.
The wall behind them is cool and neither of them had thought to put a pillow or blanket between their backs and the blank wallpaper. At some point, they will have to move, especially since Jon is still, in Martin’s opinion way too thin, and he’s always cold anyway but for now, just for a moment, he holds as still as he can and simply breathes in the smell of oversweet tea, honey and mint that is as much part of Jon as his green eyes and his unruly black and grey hair that apparently can’t stand being tied up because it has already escaped its knot and fallen into Jon’s face again.
Martin can feel the very tips of it brush against his forehead and, when Jon bends forward to kiss the bridge of his nose, his cheeks and suddenly it’s very hard not to tell Jon, how much he loves him again. He had known that he’d been alone, well, lonely, for the better part of his life no matter what he’d done even before they’d found out about Jonah’s will but the fact that he would no longer, maybe never, be on his own again is only slowly sinking in and it still makes Martin’s knees go weak and his own heart beat faster.
“Martin”, Jon says eventually, and Martin can hear the smile in his voice.
“Hm?”
“You never said, you couldn’t be my hero”
From one moment to the other, Jon’s arms have tightened around him again and he’s pressing his face into Martin’s hair. Even if Martin wanted to, he could not get away without bodily unwinding his husband’s limbs around himself, so he stays put, although he does make a face.
“Poor choice really”, he says instead, “but”, he adds, when Jon makes a sound that sounds a little like a small, furry creature being kicked by a steel toed boot, “I guess as long as there are people like Mr and Mrs Foster around, I’ll do”
The Fosters had been the closest thing they had had to neighbours at Daisy’s safe house. They had talked to Martin from time to time before Jon had had recovered enough to go out himself, which had actually been kind of nice, after months of isolation. They had not been impressed when the ‘spouse’ Martin had told them about with the most besotted expression had turned out to be a slight man whose age they could not guess between the long grey hair and the scars and marks on his body and face though. The too long black leggings that bunched around his ankles and worn-out jumper that was so big on him, that it both exposed one of his sharp shoulders and reached down his legs far enough to be more of a shapeless dress than pullover had not helped much. After that meeting the little chats they’d had with Martin had turned into frosty stares and no party had been overly sad when a big white moving lorry had turned into the street one morning and Jon and Martin had carried the few boxes they’d brought to Scotland into the van and added them to the boxes that contained the new furniture for their tiny seaside cottage before they had driven off for good.
“You’ll do just fine”, Jon agrees.
This is as far as Martin is going to go in this, and Jon’s willing to take what he gets. He does let go of Martin when he sits up and rubs a hand across his face. Martin, on his part, ignores the challenging look in Jon’s face and instead lays down properly and tugs at his husband’s hand until he follows and curls into him.
“One day”, Jon murmurs into the crook of Martin’s neck once he has switched off the lights and the only light that gives a little illumination to the room comes in through the curtainless windows opposite their bed, “one day I’ll make you see”
“Just go to sleep, Jon”, Martin presses his lips against Jon’s forehead before he pulls him into his arms, lays his chin against the top of his husband’s head and closes his eyes.
The only sound from outside is the lazy sound of the sea and before long, it has lulled both of them to sleep.