Martin's Note

Pairings: Eventual Martin/Douglas (so if you don't like the pairing, don't read it!)
Warnings: Swearing, child abuse, self-harm, depression, attempted suicide, sexual references (no character death! Whoop, whoop!)
Rating: T for all the warnings above basically :L (I might bump up the rating in later chapters)
Disclaimer: None of this fully belongs to me, all I own is the idea and a few original characters. The rest belongs to the BRILLIANT John Finnemore!

Author's Note: Right, this is my first (posted) Cabin Pressure fanfiction and I don't really know whether I've kept everyone in character so if there's anything really-obviously-stupidly-blatantly-out-of-character please let me know :3 And all the mistakes are my own too because I don't have a beta :/ Maybe I should get one... But for now, you guys can just tell me if I've made any fatal mistakes. Pwease? *holds out internet cookie*

Douglas,

I didn't even have to think twice about putting your name at the top. Of all the people, you've helped me the most. Things just went wrong far too many times. I feel as though I can't do anything without screwing up somewhere. There has always been someone to clear up the mess I've made or to get me out of the hole I've dug for myself. And that person is usually you. You and your ever-confident sarcasm that helps me out of whatever dilemma I've landed myself in.

I don't know when you're going to find this letter. But if you're wondering why, a lot of it is because of the huge stress of having to work two jobs. But not just that, lots of things have built up over a long time and there wasn't really anything anyone could do to stop it happening. But none of this really matters.

I try to be confident. I try to be a good person. I try to do the best I can. I try all the time. I'm just never good enough. And I hate myself for that. Even my own father thought that I was wasting my life and money. In some ways he was wrong. I got the job with MJN not long after he died. But actually being payed would have been nice, it could've helped me with the stupid debts I had.

The hardest thing is knowing that in no way am I good at anything other than flying. I'm not even sure that I'm good at that. You're definitely the better pilot of us and you should be proud of that.

Bad luck seems to haunt my life, at least now I get to put an end to it. I don't want you to think that it's your fault. It isn't, nor is it anyone else's. If anyone, I think I feel the guiltiest.

I don't suppose you've ever found it as hard as I have, to be able to stand next to the person you love but be unable to tell them. I feel as though I'll never be worth half their attention, let alone anything else.

So what I really wanted to say is; I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the times I've screwed up. I'm sorry for all the things I've said. I'm sorry for not telling you how I feel. But we both know what I'm like, pathetic, stuttering, whimpering Martin Crieff, can't form proper sentences when he's nervous or under pressure. I should have confided in you when I had the chance.

[One short sentence is scribbled out and is stained with tears]

I'm sorry, Douglas. I hope you of all people can understand.

Goodbye Douglas.
Yours ever sincerely,
Martin Crieff

When Douglas received the phone call from Carolyn it was barely three in the morning.

"What on earth are you doing calling me at this un-godly hour?" Douglas had sniped back when he heard Carolyn's voice at the other end of the phone. It was barely seconds before he registered that Carolyn's voice was grave and uneasy, that was a sign that something was definitely wrong. "Carolyn?" He asked, his voice came out a bit worried but steady.

"It's Martin," Carolyn's breath became slightly shakier, "he's in hospital." She took another breath. "He was found just over an hour ago with..." Her voice trailed off, she didn't seem to be able to say what happened.

"With what, Carolyn?" Douglas' reassuring voice seemed to give Carolyn the confidence she needed.

"He was found, in his flat, with..." Carolyn took a deep breath to steady herself, "with a belt around his neck." The colour from Douglas' face drained and he had to keep a firm grip on his phone to prevent himself from dropping it in shock. This couldn't be happening. The long silence worried Carolyn.

"Douglas?"

"I, uh. But no. How? Oh, God. What?" And for once in his life, speech absolutely and utterly failed the sky-god. "Hang on."

"You could go to his flat if you want to know what happened. The students will probably tell you. I don't really know myself."

"Right, I'll be off then"

"Don't do anything stupid." With that, Carolyn hung up the phone. Douglas got up and dressed and within ten minutes, he was outside the front of Parkside Terrace debating whether to knock or just to forget about it and visit Martin when he had a chance. Anyway, the students might've gone back to bed already, it was three o'clock in the morning after all.

Knock knock knock.

He heard bustling from inside and a young female answered the door. "Um... Hello?" Her voice had a faint Australian accent and her tone was nervous. She was obviously shaken by the turn of events. "Are you a friend of Martin's?" Douglas nodded and the young student stepped aside to let the older pilot in. She showed him to the sitting room and asked him if he needed anything.

"Can you tell me what happened?" The young girl paused to find the right words; this wasn't going to be easy.

"It was Sam that found him. He was only unconscious when we took him down but I checked his pulse and it was so faint it was unbelievable. Andy phoned an ambulance and they sent Martin to a hospital. We weren't told which one." She spoke in such a fast voice that Douglas had to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder to keep her from breaking down. After they had both sat down in the lounge along with four other students she told him where Martin's room was in case he wanted to go up there. They heard footsteps and creaky floorboards from above them and a police officer with tired eyes strode into the room and sat down in a small armchair that sat by the sofa Douglas was on.

"My name is Detective Inspector Wilkes, I'm just here to collect any evidence and information you guys might have," Detective Inspector Wilkes looked about the room at the six people that were either slouched in chairs or hunched against a wall, "so, can I take some names?" The young Australian that answered the door was the first to speak up.

"Renae Pattinson." Three of the other students said their names in obviously forced steadiness but a slightly smaller boy who was sat on the other side of the sofa said his name so quickly that Wilkes had to ask for him to repeat it as he wrote the names down.

"S-Samuel Harris." He looked as though he was the most shaken from the events of the night. 'Hang on a minute... He was the boy that found Martin,' Douglas had to remember to speak to him, maybe another day though.

"And you?" The DI looked up at Douglas and he said his name and told him that he was a close friend of Martin's but didn't live here. The Detective Inspector looked gravely at Douglas and said that he had been left a letter. Douglas could've sworn his heart dropped right into the pit of his stomach, this couldn't be happening, this meant that Martin actually had meant to end his life. He couldn't help but feel guilty, even though he hadn't even seen the envelope yet there was still that nagging little thought 'what if it's my entire fault?' Meanwhile, Detective Inspector Wilkes pulled out an envelope from an evidence bag and handed it to the older man. "Here you go. I'll give you some time on your own if you need it?" Douglas nodded and the DI let him hurry out of the room to sit on the cold wooden stairs.

Before he opened the letter he stared at the neat cursive handwriting that wrote his name and he pulled open the top as carefully as he could as to make sure he didn't tear what precious words could be held inside. He slowly pulled out the perfectly folded piece of paper and inhaled a deep breath before reading it. Once Douglas had read the letter through he had to go back and read it again because the words just wouldn't sink in. He read it again and he thought that there was no way this could be happening. This is Martin Crieff, the only captain he would ever work underneath. He had deviously gotten the other three former pilots fired for things he had absolutely nothing to do with at all because the cigarettes found in Captain Greyson's bag were completely coincidental, the fake ID Captain Lawrence had wasn't forged by Douglas and Captain Yaxley's illegal takeoff in Moscow was in no way influenced by Douglas at all. Douglas had never liked any of them, they were all self-absorbed arrogant sods that didn't really care for MJN, Martin, however, was a kind Captain who Douglas got along with (even if he did pick on the younger pilot sometimes) and he had always tried to make sure he never went too far with his jokes. But now he was sat on hard wood in a student house reading a suicide note from, dare he say it, one of his best friends. So he got up and walked to the doorway of the room full of five students and Detective Inspector Wilkes and announced his departure, to his surprise Renae got up and pulled a notepad and pen from her dressing gown pocket, scribbled down a landline number, tore it off and handed it to him.

"Just in case you need it," she said with a small smile. Douglas thanked her and let himself out of the house, shutting the door behind him.

Somehow he got himself back to his house without crashing his Lexus from shock or tiredness and back into his empty bed (for Helena had left him for the Tai-Chi teacher six months ago). When his alarm sounded at 7:50 he nearly broke his phone trying to turn it off, but before he threw his phone out the open window in frustration, he checked his texts. Four from Carolyn telling him a) today's trip to Albuquerque was cancelled, the client's wife was having her baby even though it wasn't due for another three weeks, b) Martin's staying at the Great Western Hospital in Swindon (only a twenty minute drive from Fitton), c) he's got a private ward in the intensive care unit so she'll have to phone in to tell them they're coming and d) She's phoned in and they can visit any time from 9am-4pm. If they want to stay longer they'll have to speak to a member of staff when they get there.

After he had read the texts and replied to them appropriately, he checked the time, 7:54. He'll definitely be going to visit Martin. Half an hour later he was sat in his kitchen rereading the note Martin had written. He noticed that there was a short line that had been scribbled out so it was illegible and it was stained with a couple of tears. Douglas couldn't read it but his inner monologue told him not to question Martin about it. He was in a bad state of mind and Doulas didn't want to make him feel any worse or for him to try and hurt himself again. 'Again,' Douglas still couldn't believe that Martin could ever feel so depressed as to try and take his own life, it was a scary thought.

RRRRRING RRRRRING RRRRRING. The blackberry was buzzing and ringing on his kitchen counter; he looked at the caller ID and answered it.

"Yes, Carolyn?" Douglas managed to gather enough suave confidence just in time.

"Douglas, don't be snarky with me now. What time will you be there?" The alpha-dog barked into her phone as she spoke. It was clear to Douglas that she wasn't in a gaming mood.

"I'll be there when I am there, Carolyn." Douglas needed some entertainment and testing Carolyn's nerve seemed to be his best outlet.

"Douglas..." Carolyn warned.

"I don't know, there are a few things I have to do before I leave so I should be about half past ten," it was a bit of a lie, he didn't have anything planned but he wanted to get there before Carolyn so he could talk to Martin in private. He knew he wouldn't be able to do that with Carolyn and Arthur around.

"Okay then, I'll aim to get there the same time as you," 'Bingo,' thought Douglas, "Arthur is still in bed, he's a bit shaken by the news but he'll sleep it off. You know what the idiot boy's like."

"Yes, he ought to be back to his normal self once he's had a decent night's sleep," that was true, everything seemed better after a long sleep, "if you can call that 'normal'," he added as an afterthought.

"So ten-thirty it is, then."

"Ten-thirty it is," Douglas confirmed, and he hung up the phone. Slipping his phone into his jacket pocket he looked around for any last-minute things he might need to bring. He had his phone, wallet and keys, what else could he need? Martin's note, he hadn't been more than ten feet away from it since he had received it from Detective Inspector Wilkes, of course he would bring it. What would Martin say if he were to find out? He wouldn't find out and Douglas would make sure of it. But what if he did? He'd think of something. But what, though? Argh! He needed to stop having battles with his conscience; it was getting on his nerves. Douglas picked the letter up from the kitchen counter and decided he had enough time to re-read it. Maybe he would understand a few things better now he wasn't as tired and he was in the comfort of his own home.

"I didn't even have to think twice about putting your name at the top. Of all the people, you've helped me the most." Did he miss that bit last time? Because reading that line was like a punch in the stomach. He had never thought that he'd be the most important person in Martin's life, it could've been family or close friends but no, Martin had to go and say that Douglas was the one who had helped him through everything. But Douglas was always picking on the younger pilot and mocking him jokingly. Okay, sure he knew where the line was, he'd put a toe over it occasionally, but he never thought that Martin would even value him as a friend, let alone a best friend.

"And I hate myself for that." Another punch in the stomach. This meant that Martin had actually hated himself for a long time before that, and he went on to talk about his father so it must have been a very long time that he had felt this way. No matter how Douglas looked at it, he couldn't understand how on earth Martin could hate himself. He was entertaining, funny and actually good company, the word games they played were highlights of their time together. This was ridiculous; he couldn't hate himself because there was just so much to like about him. Douglas didn't think he could carry on reading; maybe he wasn't fully affected by the letter the first few times because he was in such a shocked state. But he carried on reading anyway. Word after word seemed to etch itself into Douglas' memory and he couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong.

"Bad luck seems to haunt my life, at least now I get to put an end to it. I don't want you to think that it's your fault. It isn't, nor is it anyone else's. If anyone, I think I feel the guiltiest." He had to admit, Martin was very unlucky, as he had once said before; the man had picked the wrong end of enough sticks to build an entire wrong end of a forest. But he had to wonder how Martin was feeling about failing to put an end to his suffering. Probably another thing to add to the things he's failed at. No, Douglas mustn't think like that. There were loads of things he has succeeded at; he passed his pilot's license (after eight tries though, Martin wouldn't count it as success. He'd probably count it as the luckiest he's ever been in life), he had also convinced the paramedics in Boston that the client that smoked in the bathroom (and received a fire extinguisher in his face and heart failure for his efforts) was alive when really, he had already joined the sky-high departures, there were many things that Martin had done, he just needed to think about the positives instead of the negatives. "I don't want you to think it's your fault." But it is his fault; he had picked on Martin so much he was surprised he hadn't snapped earlier. He never thought that Martin would try to end it like this though.

"So what I really wanted to say is; I'm sorry." Oh great, this bit really made Douglas feel guilty. If anyone should be apologising it should be everyone that has ever put Martin down, knocked his confidence or hurt his feelings. Douglas should be saying sorry, not Martin, it isn't his fault and never will be.

"I should have confided in you when I had the chance." This confused the first officer, what could he have said that was so important but so fragile that rendered Martin unable to say? Then there was that one line that was scribbled out so furiously that there was no way to see the letters under the scribbling. He had tried holding it against light, looking for indentations on the back of the paper where he would've written the letters on the other side, he had even tried that old childhood trick to put a clean piece of paper over the top and lightly shade with a pencil to get the letters from one piece of paper to another. Nothing had worked. Finally, he folded the note back up and tucked it inside his jacket, at least it was concealed. Striding over to his black Lexus, he pulled the keys from his pocket, opened the car and got in. Once he started the car and the familiar purr of the engine had calmed him slightly he glanced at the dashboard for the time, nine-fifteen. It was a twenty minute drive to Swindon (if the traffic was good), so that should leave him a few minutes to get to Martin's room and he'd be there by nine-forty. Carolyn said she and Arthur would be there for ten-thirty so adding it all together, that spared a whole fifty minutes before they arrived. That was enough time.

"Okay then," Douglas muttered to himself, "let's go."

Author's Note: That was way more OOC that I had imagined... whoopsies D: Pairings should start next chapter, that's when some serious crap is goin' down! I'm planning on having roughly 4-6 chapters in total but that's only if you guys like it! So please review, favourite and add to your notifications and stuff :3

-KT