A/N: Sorry about the last chapter, kind of boring. I'll try to make this one better.

Martin approached Ruthie's room tentatively. She'd been better lately, that much was true, but things were still awkward. He had stayed away long enough. It was time to get a few things out in the open. Martin needed his friend back in his life.

He knocked quietly on the half-open door, part of him hoping that Ruthie was somewhere else, the other part wishing that she was here and ready to talk.

"Come on in!" Ruthie called.

Martin opened the door and stepped inside. He blushed, remembering his actions the last time he'd been in this room. Ruthie was sprawled across her bed, lying on her stomach, bare feet wagging in the air, a pencil tucked behind one ear.

"Hey," Martin said. "You busy?"

Ruthie sat up gingerly, completely dumbfounded that Martin was standing in her room. "Um, not really. Just working on an article for the paper."

Martin smiled. "Congrats on that. You're good."

Ruthie smiled back, sitting up fully and tucking her feet under her bottom. "What are you doing here?" she blurted.

"I thought that maybe we could talk," Martin suggested. "I know that this has been a long time coming, but I don't think I can go another day without talking to you, Ruthie."

Ruthie sighed and pointed to her desk chair. Martin sat down and looked around the room. He hated how awkward he felt here, when this had once been a safe place. More than anything he wanted to feel safe with Ruthie again, to be comfortable in her presence.

"So what should we talk about?" Ruthie asked.

Martin bit into his lower lip. "Can I start by saying that I'm sorry?"

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," Martin interrupted. "And I kind of need to. Ruthie, you are my best friend and I didn't realize how much I depend on you until you weren't in my life anymore. I should have been honest with you, from the very beginning, but so many things were going on. I just didn't want to disappoint you."

"You were worried about disappointing me?" Ruthie asked. "That's what you were worried about?"

Martin shrugged. "The look you gave me when you finally found out," Martin stopped speaking and clutched his chest, a hurt look appearing on his face. "That killed me."

"I wasn't able to control that," Ruthie admitted. "I'm sorry if I made you feel bad."

"Totally not your fault. To be honest, if I could have kept it a secret from you forever, I probably would have," Martin confessed.

Ruthie shifted, rising to her knees. "That hurts me. You say that I'm your best friend, but you would choose to hide something this important from me?"

Martin nodded. "Yeah. You were the hardest person to tell."

Ruthie frowned. "What about Meredith?"

"Meredith was my girlfriend, but she knew nothing about me compared to how much you know. Her reaction made me sad. Yours completely crushed me. I would give anything to have spared you that," he said.

Ruthie wanted to cry, but told herself that tears weren't the answer. Crying will get nothing resolved here, she told herself firmly. Crying will only set you back.

"Ruthie?" Martin asked. "Are we going to be okay?"

Ruthie blinked, holding the tears back. "We are okay."

"And when Sandy has the baby?" he asked.

Again, tears threatened to spill over, but Ruthie steadfastly willed them away. "I'm your friend, Martin."

Martin's brow creased in confusion. It was like speaking to some preprogrammed robot. Ruthie was giving the safe, acceptable answers, not the ones that were coming from her heart. Martin hadn't expected Ruthie to be so calm and it frightened him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Martin asked.

"I'm fine. You're fine. We're fine," she answered pointedly.

"I don't think you are, Ruthie," Martin hypothesized. "I think you're trying hard to be kind."

"And kindness is a problem?"

"Holding back is the problem. If I were to walk in here tomorrow and tell you that Sandy had my baby, what would you say?"

Ruthie swallowed the lump in her throat. Why was he doing this to her? How was she supposed to tell him that the thought of another woman carrying his baby made life seem unbearable? How was she supposed to put her heartache into words?

And, without even realizing it, tears were spilling out of Ruthie's eyes and down her face. Martin's face was one of concern, but he stayed fixed to his spot, watching the drama in Ruthie's young life play out in front of him.

Ruthie laughed nervously. "Here you go, Martin. You wanted emotion," she said, swiping away the tears on her face. "You got it! Does this make you happy?"

Martin leaned forward until his face was close to Ruthie's. "I just want you to be honest with me."

"Like you were with me?" Ruthie asked coldly.

Martin winced. "I deserved that. But tell me, why are you crying, Ruthie?"

Ruthie laughed again. "You can't be serious? You're actually asking me why I'm crying? I'm crying because everything I ever wanted in my life is dead to me now. For one brief moment I got to imagine what it would be like to have you in my life, the way I really want you to be. And then it was all gone. You only like me as a friend. You slept with someone else. You're having a baby with someone else. Those are supposed to be my fantasies, Martin! You took my fantasies and you made them my nightmares! That's why I'm crying!"

Martin was on the bed, beside Ruthie, holding her small, shaking body in his arms, before either knew what was happening. They were lost in a sea of tears, Ruthie's and Martin's.

"You should go," Ruthie muttered when she had finally peeled herself off of Martin's chest.

"But we haven't resolved anything, Ruthie," Martin explained.

"We're not going to. But I have to get over this. Everyone's telling me to stop being so selfish and immature; to just suck it up and get on with my life. I'm trying hard to do that, Martin, but you're not making it very easy on me," Ruthie admitted.

Martin watched Ruthie get up from the bed, grab a tissue and wipe her eyes. She stood by the door, a silent hint that she wanted Martin out of her room. Martin stood up and walked slowly towards the door, not wanting to leave with things like this.

"Ruthie?" Martin asked.

Ruthie shook her head, tears still coming down her face. "You need to leave and let me deal with all of this."

Martin walked through the door, out into the hallway. Ruthie was shutting the door behind him, but Martin knew he couldn't leave this house without making Ruthie see things from his side. Turning back, Martin stuck his foot out, catching the door before Ruthie had time to close it all the way.

Martin forced the door open and found himself standing in front of a sobbing Ruthie. Without a thought as to his actions or their repercussions, Martin bent down and kissed Ruthie softly on the lips. He stepped toward her, cradling her face with both of his hands.

When the kiss ended, Martin stepped back, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

"Why did you do that?" Ruthie asked, surprise written all over her tear-stained face.

Martin took a deep breath and answered, "To show you that you're not alone in this. I'm suffering too." With those words, Martin walked out of Ruthie's room.