MS Everyone needs comfort after a tough day.
Disclaimer: I own my Muse, my imagination, my dreams, the fangirl in me and not a whole lot else. To the show's writers - I worship the ground you metaphorically walk on.
A/N:- My Muse seems to have come travelling to the WAT land again and I was somehow inspired to write this one-shot. I realise I've been working on 'Come Back Down' for over a year and have no plans to abandon it but I thought that writing this would at least serve as a sign of life from these quarters for now! ... I've been trying to upload this for days but obviously hates me. Tried uploading it in a different format so hopefully this will work.
"I'll call the parents." Jack announced solemnly, breaking the shocked silence and bringing Samantha out of her silent horror. The past forty-eight hours had been sheer hell with only the hope of finding their missing person alive making the adrenaline kick in.
Martin watched her stand there staring in abject horror at the body of the young girl as police officers, EMTs and Agents moved away from the scene and the people from the coroner's office moved in. He wanted to go to her and offer her some sort of comfort but instead all he could do was look at her sadly and stick his hands in his pockets. Danny caught his eye and looked at him in understanding and he left Vivian and Elena and walked over to Samantha, resting a hand on her shoulder and leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Martin turned away and sighed heavily as he headed back to his car. It had been a year since the break-up, the attack and him conquering his addiction and him and Samantha had since managed to get their friendship back on track but only on a superficial level. When Danny and Elena asked them out for a drink, they both went and laughed with everyone else but when left alone, just the two of them, with no case to talk about, the awkwardness between them was glaringly obvious.
Starting his car, he silently cursed himself for once again leaving Danny to be the friend she needed just because he wanted to avoid feeling uncomfortable. He hated himself for becoming so like the father he resented – he always remembered how as a young boy he would cry when out with his parents – maybe he had fallen over or maybe something had upset him but when he went running to his father, Victor had simply patted him on the back awkwardly and handed him over to his mother. His father hated personal situations and never knew how to deal with an upset, crying boy so he had simply looked the other way to avoid the awkwardness. Now he himself was keeping everyone at arm's reach just like he had hated his father for doing with him. Being Martin Fitzgerald really sucked sometimes.
…………………………………………
He came back from the archives where he had just filed away the casefile and found the bullpen deserted except from a couple of Agents from the other team hastily writing their week's reports. He rubbed the back of his hand over his tired eyes and grabbing his jacket, he tiredly walked over to Samantha's desk to switch off her lamp when he noticed that her stuff was still there. He left the lamp and looked around but he already knew where she would be. He could see her now, leaning on the balcony railings, looking emptily onto the street below and he was torn between wanting to go out and join her so she wouldn't be alone and avoiding the place which had become synonymous with the ups and downs of their relationship. Deciding to stop kicking his heels together pointlessly when he knew he would end up out there with her in the end anyway, Martin dropped his bag and coat back onto his desk, before walking over to the door and out into the cool night air.
Samantha turned to look at him and gave him a tired smile. "Hey."
He walked up to her, glad to see that she wasn't crying, at least not anymore. "Hey. Everyone's gone home."
Samantha didn't say anything but looked back ahead, staring at the night lights reflecting off the building ahead. Martin shifted on his feet a little and rubbed his hands together. His instinct would have been to put his arm around her right now but he knew they'd both probably explode if he did.
"She was fourteen Martin." Samantha said, breaking the silence.
Martin heard the strain in her voice and watched as her hands tightened.
"She was just fourteen. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was just living her life." Samantha said forcefully.
Martin watched her carefully. She had been getting herself worked up over this case today and seeing Sarah Dale's body all bruised and bloody lying in the middle of the alley had got to her, really got to her. Martin leant forward and mirrored her posture.
Samantha squeezed her eyes closed tight, leant her head back and took a few deep breaths before opening them again. She was silently glad that Martin hadn't gone home yet and secretly scared that him coming out to see her had meant so much to her on a level beyond friendship. "One night when I was thirteen, my Dad came into the living room." Samantha started quietly. "My sister was out and my Mum was in the kitchen. And he hit me. Really hard on the back of my shoulders." She paused. She didn't know why she was saying this now. She had never told anyone about what had happened to her as a child, not even Martin when they were dating. And yet here she was standing out on the balcony with the guy who had been through such a lot over the past couple of the years, and she just felt the words fall from her mouth. "I hadn't done anything wrong. I was just a young girl sitting at the table doing her homework. It didn't happen just once, he continued to hit me for no reason whenever he came home drunk or in a rage until eventually he just stopped coming home."
Martin looked her in deep shock. She was shaking, half from the memories and half from the effort she was making not to cry. He had never expected her to open up to him and now that she was, he nearly wanted to tell her to stop talking as seeing her so torn up upset him too much.
"I had always thought that my mother and sister never knew it was happening until years later Josie let it slip that my mother had known right from the start. I was so angry I packed my stuff and left that night and ended up running off and marrying this guy I had been dating on and off." Samantha stopped speaking briefly only to wipe her eyes on the back of her hand. "Sarah hadn't done anything wrong either. Her father was hitting her for no reason to the point where he had ended up killing her and everyone had just looked the other way. I could have been her. I could have been her Martin. I could have been ……"
Martin put his arm around her as she broke down and sighed deeply. This explained a lot of Samantha's deep insecurities and he began to slowly understand her more than he had but what surprised him more than anything was that it hurt: it hurt him so much to feel Samantha crying up against him and that scared him. "Come on, let me take you home." He said quietly, rubbing her back softly.
The ride home was made entirely in silence apart from Martin's The Who CD playing very quietly in the background. Samantha rested her head against the cool glass of the window and tried to control her thoughts. She hated being weak in front of people who's opinion she cared about and she hated that Martin was always going to be the person who was so easy to talk to. She had known that when they were dating which is why she had made a special effort to build walls around herself to keep up her universally brave façade, which is what had ultimately led to the breakdown of their relationship. Now she couldn't explain how she felt having told him the one thing she had been repressing for all those years. Everywhere she looked, she could still visualise Sarah's body and then, sometimes, the image would change and she would see Martin's lifeless body in a hospital bed. She shuddered inside and knew it was going to be another sleepless night.
Martin parked the car and followed Samantha up to her apartment, giving her doorman an awkward smile when he nodded at him in recognition. Samantha didn't say anything in the elevator, just leant heavily on the side, her hand touching her head, trying to clear her thoughts and not noticing Martin who was practically staring at her.
"You still love her don't you?"
Martin looked up from his notepad and frowned. "You talking to me Viv?" he asked, casting a look over his shoulder to check that there was no one behind him that she could be directing her question to.
Vivian rolled her eyes as she cast her eyes over the empty parking lot before looking back at her partner. "Yes I'm talking to you." Martin opened his mouth but Vivian held out a finger. "And you know who I'm talking about."
Martin sighed and looked back down, pretending to read through his notes again. "I don't know." He said quietly.
"When will you know?"
"It's been almost two years Viv. Things have changed, we've all changed." Martin said, tapping his pen on his notepad and looking at anywhere but his friend.
"Obviously your feelings for her haven't changed."
"Well, that's my problem." Martin said resentfully before walking away.
He shook his head slightly as they arrived at her floor. It was his problem but he hadn't dealt with it. He hadn't taken down the photo of the two of them from his bedside table, he hadn't changed the picture on the desktop of his home PC and he had flatly refused to go out with anyone Danny had tried to set him up with. It seemed that getting over an addiction to pills was relatively easy in comparison.
"Try and get some sleep will you?" Martin asked, rubbing her back again gently as she opened her apartment door. Samantha nodded but didn't turn around. "Well, night." He said.
Just as he was about to walk back over to the elevator, Samantha touched his arm. "Martin."
Samantha looked into his eyes and pure need engulfed her. Just having him in front of her, standing in front of her door, reminded her of old times and how no matter how bad a day she had had, having him there always made her feel better. It was an impulsive thing to do and she should have known better but she leant forward and pressed her lips lightly against his. It only lasted for a few seconds when she pulled away. "I'm sorry, I-"
In the split second that Samantha had moved away, Martin also made a decision. He was pretty sure it wasn't the right one and there was a good chance dealing with the consequences afterwards wouldn't be easy but his feelings were out of control and his resolve was severely weakened.
His arms went around her as he stepped closer and holding her to him he drew her in for another kiss before walking her through the door and into her apartment.
…………………………………………………
Martin woke up the next morning to an empty bed and the smell of coffee coming from the next room. He sat up and gave himself two minutes to gather his thoughts: Yes, last night was reckless and impulsive but he didn't regret it. It was what they both needed: she needed comfort and to take her mind of the case and he, well, he just needed her.
Samantha cradled her cup of coffee watching the steam slowly rise and float away. She needed her own space when she slept, she knew that, Martin knew that, which is why she was scared to find herself wake up with her head in the crook of his arm, their bodies touching and their legs entwined – and she was comfortable.
Martin looked around for his trousers and shirt before finally accepting the fact that they were not going to be found in here. Pulling on his boxers, he stood up and stretched before heading out.
Samantha sat at the dining table and looked up when he entered. He looked adorable unshaven with his hair ruffled. Her eyes travelled over his gun-shot wounds and then back up to meet his gaze.
"Morning." He said standing in the doorway, a hint of a smile crossing his face.
She tried to read how much on a scale of one to ten he regretted last night but couldn't find anything except slight tiredness in his face. "I'll go get you some coffee." She said suddenly, getting up and retreating to the kitchen.
Martin sighed as he watched her run away. He found his trousers and his shirt which oddly enough seemed to have lost a button and was just adjusting his collar when he joined her in the kitchen, walking right up behind her and resting a hand on her back.
Samantha reluctantly turned to face him, startled by his closeness – she had expected him to be distant and awkward this morning like someone who was regretting a mistake but he wasn't, and that completely threw her off guard. "I'm sorry Martin. We'd just got our friendship back on track after everything and I just had to go and ruin that."
Martin looked at her. He knew that to her last night was just a way of finding a release after the case and he didn't resent her for that. He brought his hand up to her face and ran his fingers down her cheek gently. "You didn't ruin anything." He said softly.
Samantha looked at him in slight disbelief as she looked into his blue eyes and saw something there that she hadn't expected to see: concern, compassion …
"Martin?" She said curiously, her eyes searching his. It had been nearly two years, he had been the one who had ended it with her, he had been the one to distance himself … there was no way he could still care for her like that, was there?
Martin took it as her way of pushing him away and he dropped his hand. "You feel better this morning?" he asked, stepping back a little and fiddling with the gap in his shirt where the button should have been.
"Yeah, you know, it's just kind of numb and then fades away when replaced with a new case." Samantha said, wondering at his sudden retreat.
Martin nodded in understanding and then there was an awkward silence. "I'll see you back at the office then." He said, meeting her eyes again as he picked his jacket up from the chair.
Samantha wanted to question him and ask him what he was thinking but she couldn't quite form the words so she simply left it. "Okay." She said, giving him a weak smile.
A/N:- Yes, it is intended to end here even though you might not think so but in my twisted mind it works.