6
Douglas hesitantly placed his hand on top of Martin's head, ruffling his hair slightly. He settled his other arm around Martin, holding him loosely.
He was unsure what to do.
Douglas Richardson, for once in his life, was actually unsure what to do.
Okay, not the first time, but the idea was the same. The emotions. Being upset. Crying. That sort of thing. He was not good with handling those sort of emotions. At all.
Truth be honestly told, and he wouldn't tell anyone else if they would ever happen to ask, he was still trying to calm himself down. To calm his still pounding heart. Because, Douglas Richardson, Martin Crieff is perfectly fine. He is in your arms. He is not dead on the pavement four floors below. He is fine.
But- if he had gotten there ten seconds later, even five seconds later- Douglas bit the inside of his cheek, drawing Martin slightly closer. As much as he tormented the tolerate pilot, he honestly couldn't imagine not seeing Martin's face every day. Not having Martin exclaiming that he was the Captain. Not having Martin fumbling and bumbling for his words when he was talking to a woman. Not having Martin in the pilot's seat. Not having Martin as a part of MJN.
He couldn't imagine it.
Maybe it was just because he didn't want to.
Martin's entire body was shaking with the force of his sobs.
Douglas let out a breath that he had been unaware he was holding. It ruffled Martin's hair. Douglas slipped his other arm around the shaking pilot, pulling him into a very tight hug.
Douglas Richardson gave wonderful hugs. He knew this for a fact.
And Martin just sort of seemed like he needed a really good hug right now.
Even if Martin didn't hug back.
Martin's fingers were curled around Douglas's shirt, his grip tenacious, unyielding. Douglas didn't try to force him away. He didn't mind having Martin clinging to him, for once. He liked having Martin clinging to him, compared to the alternative.
Douglas was content to sit and hug Martin close, albeit wondering what the hell had caused all of this.
However, he was not content to sit in the rain and hug Martin close. And, apparently, because there weren't enough emotional circumstances right now, the world decided to rain. Because that made everything so much better.
"Martin?" he voice, clearing his throat slightly. "Come on, Martin. Let's go back in. I think you could do with a nice, long, hot bath in the hotel's rather ratty but still usable bathroom."
Martin sniffed heartily, raising his head slightly. He did not meet Douglas's eyes, but Douglas noted that the pilot's eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks tear-stained. He looked pitiful.
The snarky, sarcastic part of himself wanted to break the ice and say that out loud.
However, he ignored that part and helped Martin to his feet instead. He wasn't so heartless.
He gave Martin a weak smile. "I think I can persuade Arthur to run through the rain to the nearby coffee shop if I offer to buy him Toblerones later. What do you like?"
Martin sniffed again, rubbing his nose. "U-Uhm... I usually can't afford fancy coffee..." He said it like a question.
"Okay..." He made a mental note to reanalyze how bad off Martin was, financially. "Strong or weak?"
"... What?"
"Do you like your drinks strong or weak?"
Martin eyed him for a moment. "... I just want coffee..."
"Well, I'm not going to have Arthur try to buy you whisky." He didn't know how he even managed to maintain a sense of normalcy. He really didn't. He just knew that was what Martin needed right now- what he thought Martin needed right now- and he was trying his damn hardest to give the unhappy pilot what he wanted for once. "You like flavouring? Caramel, amaretto, mocha, vanilla..."
"Caramel...?"
"Right. I'll send him for a caramel cappuccino."
He started for the stairwell, a spike of panic welling up when he realized Martin wasn't following. He turned slightly.
Martin was still standing at the spot where Douglas had helped him to his feet. His head was inclined towards the sky. Douglas thought he saw a smile- albeit a sad one- on the pilot's lips as the rain grew steadier.
"Martin?"
Martin glanced back at him. "...Yeah. I'm right behind you."
"Please feel free to walk in front of me. You know me," he said, "I have to put my most important priorities before myself."
He almost flinched after saying that- he was still trying to maintain his normalcy, but he knew that his normalcy could be rather harsh.
Martin stared back at him for a moment before he blinked hard, smiling slightly as he walked forward. "Right... yes... Thank you..." he murmured, casting a side-long glance at him.
"Anytime." He followed Martin back down the stairs quietly. Martin was probably saying 'thank you' for letting him head inside first, but Douglas didn't miss the double meaning behind the words.
Oh Martin. You'll get some fancy coffee out of this, at least.