Authors note: If this gets any readers, I might write several chapters / episode epilogues. They won't come in a certain order, though.

After Ottery St. Mary

"Hey Skip, what happened to you?"

Martin couldn't help but slightly grin at the name. About two weeks ago, Melody had asked him how pilots and cabin crew addressed each other and after a few seconds – after he had played with the idea of lying to her – he had answered honestly. MJN wasn't like other airlines and they kept calling each other by their first names, apart from Arthur obviously, who kept calling him "Skipper".

This had lead to Martin's new nickname with the students. He didn't mind, though, it made him feel as if he belonged to them, since the only other people apart from themselves they gave nicknames to were the professors. And those nicknames weren't as friendly as "Skip".

Martin hobbled over to the little stone wall that was build around the shared house, shielding a slightly brown patch of grass from the people who walked by on the pavement. Using the crutches they gave him at Fitton Hospital, he let himself fall on the seat next to Phillip who had called out to him and stretched out his leg. "I had a little accident, don't worry, it wasn't with the plane".

Two of Phillips friends who had seated themselves on the wall as well waved as a greeting and one handed Martin a bottle of lemonade. Long time ago the students had decided in secret, that Martin was even more miserable than then when it came to money or diversified meals and that they had to help him out from time to time. So it frequently happened that Martin got handed something when they sat together outside with a snack, or that one of them knocked at his attic door to give him "leftovers" because they "made too much to eat all of that". Martin knew what their real reasons where but was too touched to actually say something about it. Also it was a bit embarrassing that the only adult in the whole damn house had to be fed by students who were worried about his health.

"So, what happened, then?" Shirley, a first-year student asked, looking up from the books she had spread on her lap.

The tips of Martin's ears reddened slightly and he heard Mike, who had lived right under Martin's attic for the last two years, snort.

"Oh I know what happened alright; he somehow managed to almost break his ankle when he tried to fix the lightning on the upper floor."

"What? But that thing has been broken for ages. I always need a torch when I come home at night… which is sometimes a bit tricky when you've been on a party, you know."

"I know, I guess that's why Martin tried to fix it."

"Wow." There was a short pause. "I didn't know you could do that, Skip."

Shirley sounded so impressed that Martin had to cough and look away. Nobody in his family had ever been impressed by something Martin did, the only one who was constantly impressed by him was Arthur and Arthur could be impressed by somebody who told him that the earth was rotating.

"Looks like he is indeed able to. What he wasn't able to do, though, was balancing on a plastic bucket because he didn't have a stepladder. You could've just asked, you know."

Martin mumbled a reply. He didn't ask for a stepladder because he didn't want to know the students that he had fixed the lights. Since he couldn't get himself to thank them proper for taking care of his feeding, this could have been the next best thing. He even had lied to Douglas and Arthur about how he really managed to twist his ankle. One of the few times where he almost was acting as the son his father always wanted – the one who was able to fix things instead of failing a hopeless exam over and over – and he messed it up. Well obviously, he was Martin Crieff, the champion in messing up his life.

Mike just smirked when he saw Martin going red and flustered about the reply.

"Anyway, he obviously fell off the stupid bucket and his foot hit the floor kinda weird-ish, so he ended up twisting his ankle. I called an ambulance because he wanted to run off to do some dumb van job."

"What, with a twisted ankle?"

"Yup."

"Oh Martin!" Phillip and Shirley both looked at him incredulous.

"It was a job, okay? I did get paid for it kind of a nice amount, the first time in weeks that somebody was ready to pay a bit more and of course, it wasn't only my day off but also a good job was on my list and I just had to break my ankle."

"Twist it, I bet it's not that bad", Phillip said and patted Martin on the back.

"It isn't. But it still keeps me from doing my job – both of my jobs – properly", Martin sighed.

"Well, in that case", Shirley said closing her book, "I'd recommend the student's way of dealing with shitty situations."

Martin looked up and studied the three young people sitting next to him.

"Getting drunk?"

The grins that spread on the faces of the young people were enough of an answer.