A/N: Warning for repeated attempted suicide including overdosing, hanging, guns, and jumping from a bridge. Also references to abuse.
1.
The first time Martin Creiff tried to kill himself he hadn't even realized what he had been doing until he had already swallowed the pills.
He had been in his room, studying flight manuals. He heard the front door slam and raised voices. He stared down at the open page, not reading anything, as his mother and father shouted out another one of their routine fights. He heard glass smash and closed his eyes, taking a quick breath. From the sound of it, that was the fine bone china that grandmother had sent them last year. More tinkles and crashes followed and Martin could guess that one of them had swept their hand across the table or something. The door opened again in the background and Martin knew it was Caitlin returning from being out with her friends. He heard a feminine shriek, which could only be Caitlin, an angry shout, and the sound of a bottle being smashed against the end of a table purposely. Shouts and exclamations and screams and everything got too loud too loud too loud Martin wasn't in his chair in his room anymore he was in the bathroom the medicine cabinet was open and a small plastic bottle in his hands the lid off. Martin felt the pills in his mouth felt them go down his throat as he swallowed reflexively felt the dizziness felt the too light container in his hand felt everything go fuzzy and he was flying.
He woke up in a hospital.
It was empty.
The only person who came was Caitlin.
She didn't speak, didn't need to.
They drove home in silence.
She understood.
2.
The second time Martin Crieff tried to kill himself he knew exactly what he was doing, but didn't care.
He had told his parents, in the same declaring way he had told them he was going to be a pilot, that he was gay.
His mother had said nothing. She simply folded her napkin on the table, stood up, and walked out of the room. His father silently finished his food and then started putting away all the dishes as if Martin had not said anything. Once the table was cleared and everything was back in it's proper place, his father turned to him and looked at him. Martin opened his mouth to say something when his father smacked him right across his cheek. His son's face jerked with the force of it and he could taste the metallic flavor of blood. His father stepped back and walked out after his wife.
Martin went to his room to find Caitlin sitting on his bed, looking at the sheets sadly. She looked up at his entrance and stood. Martin walked over and Caitlin put a hand softly on his arm. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "I'll help you pack."
Once all of Martin's measly possesions were packed into the boxes Caitlin had brought up from the garage, she left to her room to sleep, leaving behind only a whispered goodbye. When Martin heard her door close down the hall, he was left staring at the three cellotaped boxes that contained his entire life.
I don't want this. Was all he could think, his thoughts empty save those four words, until a small thought bubbled up inside him. I don't need this. He got up, walking down the hall barefoot and making as little noise as possible. He slipped into the bathroom he shared with his sister and pulled out the top drawer. Caitlin's headache medicine was lying in it's box on top of everything else. She must have used it when she heard their father hit him. He picked up the small box, pulling the tabs open and shook out half of the remaining capsules. He held his hand out in front of him and took a deep breath. He brought his hand to his mouth and swallowed the pills, his eyes fluttering closed. His last thought was I won't have this.
He woke up in a hospital.
Caitlin was sitting in a chair.
All she said was "Mum and Dad don't know."
She got him the cheapest apartment avaliable in the city.
Her understanding was written on a slip of paper in the form of her phone number and not the suicide hotline.
3.
The third time Martin Crieff tried to kill himself he wished it had been much easier to set up.
The letter sat on the desk, envelope slit neatly open. The rejection was laid out perfectly parallel to the sides of the desk. Martin had the makeshift noose already around his neck like jewelry. He slowly pulled it closer and closer until it was closed snugly against his throat completely, eyes on the glaring black and white logo of the flight school printed cleanly at the top of the paper. He should've known this would happen. He wasn't going to be a pilot. And if he wasn't going to be a pilot than he wasn't going to be anything. And if he wasn't going to be anything than he might as well be dead.
Gaze hooded and directed at the letter of rejection, he jerked the noose tight in one final movement. He fell to the floor and blacked out.
He woke up in a hospital.
Caitlin was standing next to the bed.
They both knew she was concerned.
Neither said it.
All she did was drive him home and leave him with a book on how to study and take the pilot's test without going through a flight school.
4.
The fourth time Martin Crieff tried to kill himself he knew two things.
His father died.
He wasn't invited to the funeral.
That's alright though. He wouldn't have gone anyway.
The only reason he knew was because Caitlin had dropped by to give him his inheritance and all the money she could afford to spare, which wasn't much.
He was sitting at his desk which wasn't even his, in the small room he had rented from a nice woman named Carol with a spare room upstairs. He paid by doing work for her.
He knows two things.
He had just failed the pilot test for the sixth time. And he was going to kill himself.
This time he is much better prepared.
He opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out the small hand gun he kept in it. It had only one bullet. And it was about to fulfill it's purpose.
He slid the cold metal of gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.
He woke up in a hospital.
Carol was in one chair, Caitlin in another. They were talking.
Carol showed she cared for him by driving him back to her place and giving him the number for suicide hotline accompanied by a concerned look.
Caitlin showed she cared for him by giving him all her cash, a kiss on the forehead, and a promise that he would pass the next one.
5.
The fifth time Martin Crieff tried to kill myself he knew it really was over this time.
He was broke.
He was living in an attic above students.
He had no source of income in sight.
The only one who would miss him would be Caitlin, but she wouldn't be surprised.
He didn't really know what had pushed him over the edge, but whatever it was had and it was too late to go back now.
He was already standing on the bridge, watching the black water rush away underneath into the night. He climbed over the railing and breathed in a deep lungful of night air. Looking down at the dark river made him dizzy and he let go of the railing one hand at a time and balanced for a few seconds before starting to fall. He started to black out from the dizziness and the last thing he felt was a strong grip on his arm pulling.
He woke up in a hospital.
Caitlin sat in one chair.
An older man sat in another.
"Who's that then?"
"He pulled you back right before you fell."
Caitlin gave him a kiss on his forehead and put something in his hand.
"Next time it will be a funeral."
Caitlin looked over at him from the doorway.
"One more funeral bill is better than many more hospital bills."
She smiled slightly before she turned to go. Her eyes were a little shinier than they should be.
"Bad luck, Martin."
She walked away.
Martin watched her leave.
He looked down at what she had left him. Nestled in the palm of his hand was the keys to the van and a note.
Icarus Removals.
He was silent, staring at the note when he heard the man stand up to go. He looked up and he stopped, looking back at Martin.
"What's your name?"
"Douglas Richardson."
Douglas Richardson was just outside of the door when
"Thanks but no thanks."
Douglas Richardson hesitated before answering
"You're welcome but not welcome."
"I never want see you again."
"It is a mutual aspiration."
Douglas Richardson left.
+1
After the interview with Carolyn she told him she'd call him when she needed him.
He got the call from her that morning and dutifully took a taxi to the airfield. When he finally found the plane for MJN air, he boarded nervously.
Caitlin said it was good he had a job as a man with a van and especially good he had gotten a job as a pilot.
Even if it didn't pay.
He made his way to the flight deck where she said she would be with the first officer and her son. He opened the door and walked in to see a man in the first officer's seat, a young man in a shirt and vest who was presumably Carolyn's son, and Carolyn. They were facing away from the door and he awkwardly said "Erm, Carolyn?" She turned around and he blushed.
"Finally! I thought you would never show up. We're flying some cargo to Johannesburg. Now go ahead and get to it!"
"Alright then. Sorry." He tipped his head slightly and sat down in the captain's chair.
"Hallo there! I'm Arthur Shappey!" Carolyn's son said enthusiastically behind him. Martin turned round to face him and Arthur was grinning cheerfully.
"Martin Crieff." They shook hands and Arthur said "Brilliant!" Martin smiled slightly and turned back to introduce himself to his first officer.
"I'm Martin Crieff." The other man took his outstretched hand.
"Douglas Richardson."
They both stilled for a heartbeat, hands in each other's hands, staring at each other.
Something happened.
Something ended.
"It's nice to finally meet you."
Douglas Richardson said mildly.
"I'm glad I was able to be here for it."
Martin replied.
They were sitting in the flight deck, flying through the air, the day after Qikiqtarjuac.
"How many times?"
Douglas asked.
Martin was distracted.
"How many times what?"
"How many times did you try to kill yourself?"
He paused slightly and continued.
"The way your sister talked it was more than once."
Martin swallowed and looked out into the neverending sky ahead of them.
"The time you pulled me back over the railing was the fifth."
He looked down at his hands, delibrately avoiding Douglas's gaze. Douglas hesitated, but asked delicately, "Do you think you'll do it again?"
"I don't know. If MJN is ended, then... I don't know."
Martin's hands clenched and unclenched as he sliently looked out the window. He could feel Douglas's eyes on him as he carefully avoided looking anywhere else.
"You shouldn't." Martin jerked to look at Douglas and was about to snap a reply, but the first officer rose a hand to stop him. "Hold on. You seem different from when I first met you. You should try to get another job at an airline using your expeirence from MJN."
"...Caitlin was happy I got this job."
"See? She sees you're improving too."
Martin shifted slightly in his seat unhappily. ".. I already have my will written. Just in case."
Douglas was quiet, thinking. The next question was quiet.
"Why?"
"Why what?
"Why did you attempt suicide?"
"..The first time I didn't even know what I was doing. My mother and father were fighting and the pills were in my hands and...I don't know. The third time I had gotten my rejection from flight school. The fourth, I had failed my test the sixth time. The time you found me... I don't even know."
Douglas fixed Martin with a stare.
"And the second time?"
"I-I...My parents. I had told them I was..g-gay." Martin looked down and away, flushing at the admission.
"Martin, I don't care."
"..."
"But you realize that is no reason to not internet date."
"Shut up Douglas."
"Yes, sir."
Martin's eyes swept over the dashboard, taking note of all the buttons that were lit and the ones unlit. His hands froze when he noticed one.
"..Douglas..." Martin said hesitatingly, and Douglas answered cautiously, "Martin?"
"Did you change the cabin address light back after Qikiqtarjuac?" It was silent as Douglas turned slowly to look at the intercom button and comprehension rolled over his face, making his eyes widen and his mouth quirk.
"...as a matter of fact, sir, I...didn't."
"Oh."
They both stared at the unlit light in apprehension, and the door to the flight deck creaked open. Martin could hear the footsteps of Carolyn and Arthur behind him walking in, but didn't turn around, his eyes fixed on the button.
"You won't again, will you Skip?" Arthur's voice cracked, and Martin automatically turned and his mouth opened to comfort him. He closed his mouth and looked at Arthur with melancholy eyes. Arthur was holding his paper hat in his hands, tugging at the edges with an anxious look on his face.
"I. I can't say."