Hello and thank you everyone for reading.
The song mentioned in this chapter is 'Runaround Sue' by Dion
Chapter 46
It had been remarkably easy to slip back into the habits of a couple, picking up the little pieces of their relationship that had dropped when they spilt up, and yet, Deborah couldn't help but feel as if every moment she spent with Martin, be it working (procrastinating) in the porta-cabin, falling into bed (mostly to sleep, if she was honest), or pottering around side by side and engaging in fleeting dates and other activities, was tainted by the bitter knowledge that it would be over soon.
True, she and Martin would still be together, in a way, and just as in love as they had ever been, but they would be miles apart; snatched weekends here and there, and holidays months apart spent catching up on their intimacy and physical needs just didn't seem to match up to sitting side by side on the sofa as their knees brushed, or slumping around the kitchen while one of them set about household tasks. At least not in her head…
Deborah was going to miss just having Martin there more than she had missed anyone else in her life, save perhaps her daughter.
Verity hadn't taken the news well; apparently she felt safe throwing a tantrum when there were miles of phone-line between them, and Deborah had had to listen to a furious mixture of despair and rage as the little girl demanded to know why Martin could even think of leaving them. Deborah had had to promise that Martin was definitely still a part of their lives, and that they would negotiate their visits so that they could be together, the three of them, however sparsely that might be.
The whole event had only served as a sharp reminder of just how integral Martin had become in Deborah's life; she had never realised quite how deeply he had burrowed into her world, but that was what he did. There was just something about him that left an itch, unpleasant at first, but extremely noticeable one it was gone; anxiety and a charming personal twitch could so easily be misconstrued as pernicious and rude if he wasn't given the chance, but Martin was, if nothing else, clingy. And clinging was exactly what he was doing, to every crevice of Deborah's mind.
But her resolve was unshakeable now, and the offer had been accepted, and together, Deborah and Martin worked towards preparing him for one of the biggest leaps of his life. The more prepared Martin became, the prouder Deborah was of him, which made the faint ache in her chest worth it.
Martin had given his landlord his notice, and would be moving out of Parkside Terrace the day before he was set to leave for Switzerland; they still had no idea where he was going to stay due to his meagre funds, but there was always a bed and breakfast, or a hotel that could be found on short notice. So while he had the essentials packed up to take with him, most of Martin's bulkier possessions would be boxed up in Deborah's spare room until she could have them transported to a more permanent place of residence.
There was no debate over how they spent the remnants of their time; of course, flights carried on as normal, but at a much slower pace than they had in the past, as if MJN itself could hear the end looming on the horizon, and the two of them had barely spent the stays abroad apart when they were fighting. When they were at home, they gravitated towards Deborah's flat, as they moved boxes between the two, and when they did go out for dates or dinners or just to fetch the shopping, Martin hid his reluctance to miss a moment by amplifying his tendency to be 'helpful' and earn his keep, stating that Deborah could use a hand or someone to take over if she got tired of driving.
Deborah couldn't say she minded; if anything, she was cherishing every moment she got to spend in Martin's presence, hoping that prolonged exposure would make the eventual fade from warmth to dullness slow.
Unusually, they had started today in Martin's attic, Deborah having had no energy (in fact simply being stubborn because she rather liked pottering around the small space that was steadily losing its Martin-ish allure) the previous night to get back in her car after they had spent far too long packing up his things due to how extremely distracting and cuddly they had both been feeling; Martin had seemed incapable of not swooping down behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and press snuggly kisses to her neck, and Deborah had simply forgotten to protest, making for one unproductive day.
Now it was mid-afternoon and Deborah was letting the first scraps of dinner heat in the oven, listening as Martin hummed and murmured under his breath, bopping around her sitting room in an unusually frantic demonstration of energy as 'Run-around Sue' played on her stereo; they had moved some of his heavier furniture today, and once everything had been packed into the spare room, Martin had almost immediately started digging through her CDs full of music from the fifties and sixties that he had grown so fond of since the start of their friendship.
She supposed that he was just jittering as he was wont to do before tricky passengers or tests, working himself up with the nerves that he was inevitably feeling at the prospect of leaving MJN; his safety net was being slowly deconstructed, and soon he would be flying away to better pastures.
When Deborah wandered back into the sitting room, Martin turned quickly from where he had been playing with the few sentimental objects that she had lying about on the shelf above the stereo, still swaying slightly in time with the music; a smile slipped across his lips as his cheeks flared up and the corners of his eyes crinkled, a nice sight to see if there ever was one.
Deborah quirked an eyebrow at him, and smirked playfully as she crossed the room to meet him, catching his quick movement as the track changed, and he flicked a button on the stereo to change it back before stepping forwards and bringing his arms up to receive her.
"You do know that there are other songs on that CD?" Deborah murmured as she allowed Martin to pull her close, but not too close, so that he could carry on swaying with her hands curling over his shoulders.
"Of course I do," Martin replied brightly, a wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his lips; the contentedness could almost be felt radiating from him, as he wrinkled his nose, drawing Deborah's attention away from the way he was shifting and slipping his arm under hers while simultaneously hooking the other arm more securely around her waist, until she was tucked into the crook of his elbow, "But, this one's your favourite – I even learnt all the words in case I ever needed to serenade you."
"Oh did you!" Deborah drawled, her smirk overflowing into an entranced smile as the fluttering of heat in her chest threatened to reach a sarcastic climax; she continued to watch Martin with a raised eyebrow, until she felt the arm beneath hers flex, and the fingers of that hand intertwined with hers.
Then, without any warning (or perhaps there had been and she just hadn't noticed) Martin bobbed backwards, pulling her to her surprise into a jaunty little waltz, keeping perfect time with the swinging sixties rhythm as he grinned at her shock.
"I should have known it from the very start, this girl will leave me with a broken heart," Martin sang in that low, smooth voice that Deborah could still remember practically quivering under the first time she had ever heard it; now though, still caught off guard and carried by Martin's swaying and swinging, she could only giggle and allow him to twirl her around the sitting room, "Now listen people what I'm telling you, A-keep away from-a Runaround Sue, yeah."
"I might miss her lips and the smile on her face, the touch of her hand and this girl's warm embrace," Martin continued to sing, his voice trembling as a chuckle threatened to escape when he nearly twirled Deborah into the coffee; she couldn't find it in herself to care, relishing the complete intoxication of joy for the first time in weeks, no worries about the future, "So if you don't wanna cry like I do, A-keep away from-a Runaround Sue."
"Whoooahhhh, whoo-oah-oa-oaooh" Deborah joined in as Martin began to dissolve into giggles, still making a valiant effort to keep the dance somewhat structured, but failing dismally as Deborah pulled back slightly to add some swing, holding tightly to his hand to ensure that she'd be pulled back to rest against his chest only moments later, "Whoooahhhh, whoo-oah-oa-oaooh, Whoooahhhh, whoo-oah-oa-oaooh."
They must have kept that going for almost half an hour, too wrapped up in enjoying each other to get back to whatever it was they should have been doing, not that it could have been important in the first place; eventually, Deborah found herself lying back on the sofa, half covering Martin's chest with her shoulder as they lay side by side, his arms around her, comfortable and warm and satiated with exhaustion, tucked up together.
"Why did your dad want you to be an electrician?" Deborah inquired softly, taking advantage of the peaceful lull and Martin's pliancy as she held his hand in hers, enjoying the feel of the toughened skin and bony knuckles as she spun his signet ring in little circles around his finger, carelessly fiddling as he allowed her to do it, possibly because the fingers of his other hand were trailing little circles on her hip.
"What?" Martin asked lazily, the bridge of his nose crinkling in confusion as he tilted his head down to meet her eyes, "W-when did I tell you that?"
"A few years ago." Deborah replied, smiling faintly at the memory; there were so many facets of each other that they hadn't yet explored, never realising that there would come a time when they might need to, and now she couldn't help but dwell on that fact, "I've just been wondering if there was a particular reason."
"Well, um, I think he saw that I was good at things like Maths and Physics, and then when he let me help him with small things like light bulbs and fuses, he got it into his head that it would be a safe career choice for me." Martin explained after a moment, shrugging awkwardly beneath her; then his eyes widened imperceptibly, and he made a sudden movement with his hand as he impressed upon her, "H-he was a handy-man, he wasn't just letting me play with electrical items."
"Oh, that's a relief." Deborah remarked wryly, chuckling lightly and taking his hand in hers to lower it back down to her side; she had always wondered, since Martin had first opened up and revealed parts of his life, just what had made him the way that he was, and it wasn't the sort of conversation you had over the phone, "Did you ever give him any suggestion that you might actually want to be an electrician?"
"Well, no, I'd always said that I wanted to be a pilot. But I probably could be an electrician if I wanted to-" Martin mused, frowning slightly in thought; it was a fair assessment, Deborah hummed in agreement, as she had seen Martin fiddle with all sorts of broken items until they sparked into life, "I got quite good at helping him. I think it's just that while I was enjoying getting father son time and having him look all proud of me, he was enjoying the idea that he was training me up for greater things."
"I suppose that was sensible of him." Deborah suggested tentatively, making sure to give Martin's hand a little squeeze and cuddle a little closer; the last thing she wanted was to let him get bogged down by petulant nostalgia, "Although, I'm rather glad you chose to do things your own way…you're much better suited to the flight deck than someone's fuse box."
"I thought you quite liked watching me do manual labour." Martin remarked coyly, playfully raising an eyebrow as he shifted to bring them closer; it was a tempting proposition, but it was also too early in the afternoon, and Deborah was content to doze about.
"Oh, I do," Deborah drawled, leaning up to place a small kiss on his cheek before settling back down, enjoying Martin's affectionate response as he brushed the tip of his nose against hers, "but we'd never have met otherwise."
"Maybe…" Martin reluctantly agreed; he didn't sound happy about it, but Deborah didn't have time to answer him as he plastered on a cheerful smile and asked, "what about your parents? What did they want you to do?"
"They never pushed me into anything." Deborah sighed, ignoring the fleeting impulse to brush off the question; if there was one thing that she could have with Martin, it was the assurance that honesty wouldn't be judged, not too harshly at least; he hadn't cared about her alcoholism, or her smuggling after all, "Not that they didn't want to, it's just very hard to make alternative plans when I didn't have any of my own. But, my father had faith in the fact that I tend to land on my feet…I'm not sure what he'd think now though…"
"I don't see how he could be anything but proud." Martin remarked, catching the tail end of the frown and dismal expression that flittered across her face; he stroked his hand past Deborah's cheek as she sighed and quirked her eyebrows sardonically.
"I have made a lot of messes throughout my life, Martin." Deborah retorted bitterly; far too many, from dropping out of medical school to losing her daughter and ending up in a failing company, sending away the only thing keeping her together.
"Yes, but you've walked away from all of them and you're still here." Martin corrected her, as if it were obvious and of barely any concern; it helped to lift her spirits just a pinch, after all, he wasn't one to overlook her flaws so much as point them out and pick at them until she behaved, "That's quite impressive"
"Hmmm…" Deborah sighed, choosing not to argue right then; it didn't hurt to let him have his way every now and again, "I suppose…"
oOoOoOo
It was so very, very boring lounging around the porta-cabin; it was raining, so the four of them were all packed in, waiting for their businesswoman client to hurry up and arrive like she had said she would. At this rate, they wouldn't be flying until the evening, which was always an absolute joy.
While Martin and Arthur were doing something on the other side of the room, something that was producing quite a lot of snapping and flailing, and Carolyn was hiding in her office, Deborah sat behind her desk, drowning out the rabble and doodling idly a stack of paper that she thought might have been intended for the printer.
The whole thing was monotonous, and there were better things that she could have been doing with her time than scribbling down more caricatures of MJN and mock up posters; her concentration felt like water when it was cupped in someone's hands, trickling away to the point that the first few times, she had simply started colouring from the corner of the page and filling it in black, using up the ink from Martin's pens before moving on to a sharp and elegant design, forgoing her usual bubbly font.
"Martin, come and take the phone from me." Carolyn could be heard instructing; Deborah glanced up in time to see Carolyn standing in the doorway to her office, hand outstretched and offering him her clunky office phone, as Martin paused in his debate with Arthur to narrow his eyes at her.
"Why?" Martin inquired suspiciously, stepping towards her nonetheless.
"Because it's all a conspiracy." Carolyn retorted, rolling her eyes and giving the phone a little wave as she bridged the gap between them and shoved it into Martin's grasp, "Herc's on the other end, and he'd like a word with you."
"Oh, alright…" Martin chirped, his expression brightening as he wandered towards the relative shelter of Carolyn's office; he glanced fleetingly at Deborah as he passed, but not long enough to catch the stiffening of her posture before he disappeared and pulled the door closed behind him, "Hello."
"Herc's calling from Switzerland to talk to Martin?" Deborah inquired snippily, failing in her attempt at nonchalance as she dropped her pen down and pushed the doodles away, watching Carolyn like a hawk as the other woman lowered herself into the end of the sofa; the flicker of jealous anxiety that pinched at her stomach was indomitable.
"No, the Moon." Carolyn replied sarcastically, shaking her head as Arthur appeared at her elbow and placed a cup of coffee in her hands; she still hadn't wavered in her complete determination that everything go smoothly and according to plan, as if nothing bad were looming on the horizon, "Of course from Switzerland, that's where he is."
"What does he want to talk to Martin for?" Deborah demanded; unable to stay still much longer, she rose from her seat and strode across the room, dropping onto the opposite end of the sofa, barely navigating Arthur as he swung his wheelie chair around to perch opposite them, bringing them all together as he leaned on the back panel of his chair.
"He heard that Martin needs a place to stay when he arrives in Zurich, and as the pay-checks don't come through until the end of the month, he's offering Martin his spare room until the boy can afford to rent his own." Carolyn explained with a matter-of-fact smile, as if this were good news; Deborah supposed that it was, in a sense, though it made little ripples of despair creep through her chest.
"Well…isn't that charitable of him." Deborah remarked dryly, perhaps putting a bit too much force into folding her arms over her chest and one leg over the other, glaring that the wheels on Arthur's chair as he swayed ever so slightly.
"Oh, don't sound so petulant." Carolyn scolded her, lightly batting her elbow with the back of her hand; Deborah only scowled, but made the effort to lift her eyes and pout and her employer, playing the part, "You should be happy that he's going to make something of himself."
"Martin's already something." Deborah said certainly, jaw set against a grimace as she tipped her chin up just a tad, filled with indignation; years of listening to people put Martin down, and her patience was starting to wear thin, especially as recently, his unbreakable faith in himself had seemed to waver in the face of a challenge, and for the first time she had heard him voice his fear that perhaps he hadn't been the best Captain in the world, "He doesn't need to go anywhere to be something."
"Dear lord, I'd forgotten how soppy you were the first time round." Carolyn groaned, rolling her eyes as if she were carrying the heaviest of burdens and slouching back into the sofa; she just didn't understand.
"I think it's nice that they're back together." Arthur interjected, equally at the wrong end of the stick; Deborah glanced up at him, only to find that he was smiling as if the world were right and good, making a sort of 'together' motion with his hands, "It's just like it should be, Deborah and Martin."
"They're just making life more difficult for themselves." Carolyn retorted, shaking her head; she could pretend that she was doing the best for them all she liked, it didn't make it any less hurtful.
"Yes, thank you for that assessment Carolyn." Deborah snapped, trying not to scowl no matter how she was feeling; there might be less of a miserable pressure choking her if people would stop trying to interfere with her and Martin's lives as if they knew what was best for them.
Not that that could ever stop Carolyn from sticking her nose in.
"You know, you should really start looking for new jobs." Carolyn suggested flippantly, as if it weren't the most soul crushing thing she had said in months; Deborah didn't respond, and simply stared at the other woman, hoping that she wasn't as petulant and watery eyed as she felt as Carolyn continued sternly, "Don't look at me like that; MJN can't last more than a few months without another free pilot, and though I might be determined to ride it out to the bitter end, you should be making preparations just like Martin is."
"You know what my record is Carolyn." Deborah sighed, giving in to a wash of desolation; that was allowed, when Martin wasn't around to see it, she could dwell on how miserable her life was destined to become, "No other airline is going to hire me."
"Then look at other jobs." Carolyn exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air; it was so easy to tell her what to do when she was couched by the downfall from the company's end, with a son at home and a partner ready to leap into action at the snap of her fingers, "I'm happy to write you as many references as you need if it'll make you take your head from your backside and start finding a way to keep a roof over your head."
"I didn't realise you cared." Deborah retorted airily, rolling her eyes and turning away to stare once more at the carpet, taking comfort from the solid motion of pulling her arms more tightly around her chest, enjoying the definitive nature of the gesture.
"I don't." Carolyn replied shortly, and just as stubbornly; Deborah stole a sideways glance at her, and wasn't fooled by the pinched edge to her expression. Maybe it was her time with Herc rubbing off on her and turning her into some sort of humanitarian instead of the misanthrope that Deborah had been hired by, but Carolyn had definitely been interfering far more of late…and lately the broiling in her guts did seem to die down when her problems became the world's problems.
"I'm a pilot." Deborah exclaimed, shrugging her shoulders helplessly, aware that she sounded as whiny as Martin had in his first few months, but unable to muster the determination to care; there was hardly any point in pretending that she was fine, "Even if I was trained to do other jobs, I want to be pilot, and I want to fly planes."
"Don't be so childish!" Carolyn scolded her, huffing loudly, as if a fit of pique might knock some sense into her; unfortunately, any fear that Deborah might have had for the wrath of her boss had faded within a month of working for her, unlike Martin and Arthur, who still scrabbled around when really pushed.
That was what happened when an otherwise threatening woman decided that her longest lasting employee, known for scheming and lying, was a sensible person to trust with worries such as financial insecurity, familial disputes, and to involve in unprofessional chores such as ferrying her son and feeding the dog.
Deborah supposed that if she failed to find anything to do, Arthur would need no convincing to pay her to walk their ridiculous dog…which was one of the most depressing thoughts she had ever had.
"Has Arthur started looking for new jobs yet?" Deborah inquired, putting on a facsimile of pleasantness as she looked away from Carolyn and turned her eyes on Arthur, who had been watching the conversation with an innocently pensive expression on his face; she was sick of talking about this. All of her attempts to stay positive were null and void when Carolyn punctured holes in her previously buoyant mood.
"No, I haven't." Arthur replied brightly, shrugging as if it were no problem whatsoever, no skin off of his back; he leaned on his arms where they lay folded over the back of his chair, and swayed ever so slightly, pushed by his ankle, "I've been thinking about it, but I don't want to get another job somewhere and accidently speed up MJN's ending."
"For once Arthur, you and I are on the same page." Deborah remarked wryly, clicking her tongue as she sat forwards, unfolding her arms so that she could prop her chin up on her hands; Arthur was always on her side, and the far safest bet when it came to a safety net.
Leaving MJN was the last thing she wanted, and with the horrid dejected acceptance that sending Martin away brought, Deborah could really use something to cling to; it was the only thing that she still had, and cared about, that was a secure presence in her life, and so long as Arthur was staying, so could she.
"Oh, wow, that's brilliant." Arthur exclaimed, smiling, cheerful and happy with the world; Deborah supposed he was happy with the world, he hadn't said any different…but then again, he wasn't moving on either, and had never been the sort of person to complain, even if he wasn't feeling positive.
The thought made a flicker of affection fleetingly warm Deborah's chest, even though she knew it was a bit cruel; she loved Arthur to bits, and there was something comforting in knowing that even as everything else crumbled, he'd be as relentlessly cheerful as ever.
"It's not brilliant. The both of you can't just pretend nothing's happening!" Carolyn insisted sharply, glaring between the two of them; her irritation was understandable, but Deborah could only scoff faintly, wallowing in her selective obliviousness, "This isn't going to last forever."
"I wish it would." Arthur sighed fondly, pursing his lips and gazing into the middle distance as if he were reliving all their best moments, "Then we could all stay together and there wouldn't be all this fuss over everyone moving far away from each other; I can't even imagine working anywhere that didn't have you guys, no matter how hard I try."
"Maybe we should steal GERTI and run our own illegal charter firm together." Deborah suggested, smirking wickedly as Arthur's eyes lit up and he sat a little straighter; Carolyn huffed beside her, which only served to lift Deborah's spirits back to their proper angle, "I'm sure we planned to mutiny years ago and never got around to it."
"Ooh, like sky pirates." Arthur ran with the idea, squinting into nothingness as he made roundabout motions with his hands, "Like, passengers pay for us to fly them, and we save lots of money by not paying the landing fees and all that other stuff, and we just drop them off and leave really quickly."
"That is a monumentally stupid idea, Deborah, and your refusal to acknowledge that things are changing is equally stupid." Carolyn interjected before he could get too carried away; she hadn't cheered or been distracted as Deborah had hoped, but was still grimacing sternly, sitting back on the sofa with her hands folded together.
"Well I-" Deborah started to snap, lurching back so that she could face the woman head on, arms winding defensively around her chest, but she froze when the door to Carolyn's office opened quietly, and Martin slipped back into the room; he didn't say a word, but instead was looking thoughtful, his eyebrows knitted as he picked at his epaulets, "Martin! Anything of interest to share?"
"Yes, uh, yeah…" Martin replied hastily, plastering on a wobbly smile that fooled no one; it was obvious as he wrung his hands together and tread across the room to fill the space that Carolyn vacated, that he had accepted Herc's offer and was coping just as he had with everything else involved with his leaving; Deborah didn't push him, and simply leaned into his arm as he sat beside her and said, "I'll tell you about it later."
It was going to be a long day, but not nearly long enough for Deborah to soak up as much proximity to Martin as she wanted; far too much of it was taken up greeting their passenger, flying, and then rolling back to her home, too tired to do much more than lose one more night together.
oOoOoOo
It was finally happening, and Deborah couldn't decide whether she was glowing with pride or choking on the stone claws that closed around her throat and forced tears to burn just behind her eyes; it was pure willpower that kept her from weeping and clinging to Martin, but now they were here, it felt like a golden rope was guiding her down the right path.
Martin was going to Switzerland, they were in the bloody airport, and she would never forgive herself if she didn't give him the comfort and encouragement that he needed to take those last few steps; it was as easy, yet as painful, as rolling down a particularly steep hill.
Carolyn and Arthur had decided to allow the two of them space for the final farewell, so the teary goodbyes had been exchanged over a last drink in the porta-cabin, after Martin's last flight to the Isle of Mann and back; Arthur had been huggy and affectionate and a little more dejected than was his norm, and Carolyn had thrown enough champagnes down her throat that she allowed Martin to pull her into a brief hug, all three of them wobbly.
Deborah had watched the proceedings like a spectator at an opera, quiet and subdued, chest shuddering as she watched the rest of them enjoy their last moments together, bidding each other farewell and laughing what could have been sobs had it been from anyone else, tears welling in her eyes; that was becoming too much of a common occurrence these days.
Then Deborah and Martin had retreated to her flat, Parkside Terrace now nothing more than a memory, empty and awaiting its next tenant; she had tried to act as if everything were normal, but eventually both of them gave up and abandoned their efforts, and barely spent a moment more than an inch away from each other. It would be a long time before they could be intimate again, but Deborah found that the ache in her chest reached its peak at two in the morning as she lay wrapped around Martin's warm body, hearing and feeling the rise and fall of his chest, certain that he wasn't asleep as his fingers moved imperceptibly at her back.
Everything was set. Martin's bags were packed and ready for an extended stay in Herc's abode, and Deborah's spare room was filled with boxes that she would ship over when he had his own home.
It was going to be a long time before they could hold each other again, and they weren't wasting a moment, even now.
Now the two of them stood together in the airport, before the security gate and the checks that would carry Martin away; his carry-on bags lay by their feet, and both Deborah and Martin had only a scarce few inches of air between them as they clung to each other, swapping hushed reassurances and watery miseries.
Martin was hunched ever so slightly, looking smaller than he was in his over-sized coat and as many jumpers as he could get on so that he didn't have to pack them in his case, his hands on Deborah's waist as Deborah ran her palms over his upper arms and his shoulders, squeezing soothingly and stealing as much contact as she could before she couldn't any more, all the while standing with their foreheads pressed together. Deborah couldn't be certain which of them was sniffling, but there was a high chance that it was both of them.
"Oh g-god, I-I can't believe this is actually happening." Martin gasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard and sucked in heaving breaths; his eyes were wet and flickering over Deborah's face, as his fingers dug nervously the curves of her waist, caught between pulling her closer and holding her where he could see her.
"Deep breaths, darling, deep breaths." Deborah murmured, squeezing Martin's shoulders firmly before running her hands down to straighten the rumpled v-shaped opening at the neck of his coat, to no avail; it was hard, but she could push through it, she could suck it up and carry on.
"I-I-I just thought," Martin stuttered desperately, having to pause for breath before he continued, pressing his forehead against her momentarily, exhaling as if he were given a new breath of life, "I thought we'd have fixed us, f-fixed this by now. Properly."
That made something in Deborah's chest lurch, and tumble, and it was with an agonising pang that she leaned just so, just a fraction closer, as if pulled into his gravitational field; god, she would have given anything to have fixed them properly. But he couldn't think that she was having misgivings, she wouldn't drag him down.
"We're alright." Deborah assured Martin, brushing the tip of her nose against his and pressing a light kiss on his lips before leaning back enough that she could meet his teary blue eyes; even as she spoke, she could feel herself unravelling, and the tears beginning to form in her own eyes all over again, "I know it's not ideal, but we can speak every day, and I know how to do the video chatting on the computer, and we've got holidays and weekends and planes galore to actually be together. We'll be fine, we're okay, we're good…"
"I'm going to miss you, s-so m-much." Martin's voice trembled as much as his hands did, and it made Deborah long to scoop him up and carry him home with her; instead, she listened and allowed herself to be held close, hearing the shuddering of his breath, as the tears in his eyes began to overflow, just a couple of wet tracks on his cheeks, "I-I already miss you, i-it hurts."
"Come on now, y-you're making me cry." Deborah choked, gasping and unable to hold back the smile that crept unbidden onto her lips; it was as if the painful tug at her gut was simultaneously shining a glittering light on how much perfect this moment could have been if it were happening another way, "Everything's going to be okay, I promise."
"I miss you." Martin replied stubbornly, ridiculously, bringing one of his hands up from her waist to card through Deborah's hair, pushing it behind her ear before repeating the action and leaving it redundant as he tipped his head down and kissed her again, just a light motion.
"I love you too." Deborah sighed, still caught by the inappropriate, impulsive rush of fiery affection as she raised her hand from Martin's shoulder and traced the tips of her fingers over his cheek, bringing him back for another soft kiss before he could pull away; it was a slow, gentle caress that only lasted a few seconds, but the sensation of Martin's lips against hers was agonisingly wonderful, and she barely leaned away when they parted.
"I-I-I c-c-could still s-stay." Martin spluttered, though there was none of his usual determination behind it, only the clenching of his hands and the shaking, from which of them Deborah wasn't sure.
"No you couldn't Martin." Deborah corrected him, taking a deep breath to steady herself, and placing her hands firmly on Martin's shoulders, this time holding him at arm's reach so that she could look him straight in the eye; this had to be done.
"Yes, I could, Deborah." Martin retorted, glaring back at her, red faced and nodding; all she had to do was look at his expression to see that he wouldn't do it, but the thought was there, and if she asked, he might, but there was no way that she would, "I could miss my flight."
"Then you'd get straight on the next one." Deborah said clearly and calmly, though she was sure that her lips were trembling; the flutter of fondness at the image in her mind was enough to keep her motivated, "You're going to be fine Martin, I know you are."
"Yeah…yeah…oh god…" Martin nodded hastily and dragged his bottom lip through his teeth, sucking in deep breaths; Deborah pulled him into a swift embrace, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing their cheeks together, bringing her lips to his cheek before stepping back again. When she did, she saw that Martin was no longer trying to hold in the tears that were silently, slowly slipping down his cheeks.
"Hey, now what did I say about crying?" Deborah remarked wryly, forcing a smile and a truncated laugh as she pointed demonstratively at him; the responding smile that flickered across Martin's face as he bit down on his lip did nothing to stop her own tears escaping, like wet tracks against her skin.
"I love you." Martin said, when he finally calmed down, enough that he could steady his shaking and form coherent sentences; Deborah smiled sadly as he carelessly rubbed the back of his hand over his face, and then brushed his fingers down her arms, hooking his palms under her elbows so that she could step back into his arms, far more distance between them than before.
"But not as much as you love flying." Deborah replied, sighing and smiling and raising her hands to take Martin's face in the tips of her fingers, stroking little circles on his cheeks with her thumbs; that was it, the one unbreakable reason that she couldn't keep Martin in Fitton with her when there was a better piloting job just waiting for him.
She couldn't even resent him for it; it was that passion for aviation that made him the neurotic, enticing man that had stolen her heart.
Apparently Martin didn't feel quite the same way, as to Deborah's surprise, his eyes widened and hardened, and his trembling ceased almost immediately as his eyebrows dipped and he surveyed her with an expression that could only be called tragic epiphany; the suddenness of the shift, and the muted upset in his eyes took the frantic breath from Deborah's lungs, and her movements stilled.
"Y-y-you really think that?" Martin demanded softly, his voice serious nonetheless as he placed his hands over hers and lowered them; he kept his fingers wrapped around hers, but the warm gravitas had been replaced by something colder and more uncertain, "That's actually what you think? You think I…"
"Yes, because it's true…" Deborah replied slowly, narrowing her eyes at Martin as his eyes flickered across her face, as he knew this, he must have; nevertheless, Deborah hastily tried to put things right, unable to even imagine letting him go even slightly discontented with her, "but I don't mind. I want you to go out there and get what you've always wanted. Martin?"
"You actually think that I…" Martin exclaimed, his voice barely more than a utterance of disbelief as he shook his head and his eyes widened even further; the realisation leached across his face, and he stepped back in surprise, slapping a hand to his forehead as if distraught with himself, dragging it down his face, "oh god…I'm an idiot."
"No you're not." Deborah argued quickly, shaking her head and reaching after him to recapture his hand, desperately cocking her head to try and meet Martin's gaze, to make him believe her; this wasn't right, Martin wasn't supposed to think that, he was supposed to be filled with confidence and spurred onto a better and brighter future.
"Yes, yes I am." Martin stated firmly, squaring his jaw and appearing, if nothing else, the most confident that he had since that had left her flat; he nodded as if to himself, and met her eyes without flickering, inhaling sharply and holding the breath, "You're right…I need to go."
"You see what I've been telling you?" Deborah asked uncertainly, feeling like the tables had turned and now she was the one on the wrong foot; but this was good? Martin was finally accepting that he was going to be good at Swiss Air…he was confident that things were going to go well…her persuasion had worked?
"I see that you don't deserve someone as useless as me." Martin remarked, grimacing at his own words as he threw Deborah through another loop; that wasn't right, no, that didn't make sense at all – trying to understand how Martin had come to that conclusion felt like tripping over wall after brick wall.
And it broke her heart; Deborah didn't know what had caused it this time, but she felt like they had been here before, only all the other times Martin had bitten back and indignantly insisted that he was Captain and no harm was done…somehow, and she didn't know how, she always, always managed to make Martin feel bad about himself, be it teasing or…god, she didn't even know what she had done this time.
"You're not useless." Deborah told him, quietly, taking both of his hands in hers, then dropping them and grasping his shoulder again, her taking his chin in her other; she may not understand, but she was damned if she was going to let Martin leave thinking even a slightly bitter thought about himself, "And whether you think I deserve you or not, I'll be waiting here when you pop back to visit."
"I am a bit useless." Martin scoffed, but he didn't pull away again as a small smile made its way back onto his face, and his cheeks flushed lightly; this was good, maybe it wasn't her fault, "B-but I can do this, I-I-I – you think I can do this job? Really?"
"I think that you're going to do beautifully." Deborah assured him, smiling warmly at him and leaning up to place a kiss on his lips; when she pulled back, she couldn't help but kiss him again when she saw that light in his eyes, "Swiss Air won't know what hit them."
"Okay…okay, o-okay." Martin let out a sort of nervous chuckle, and ran his hands from Deborah's wrists down to her elbows; Deborah pursed her lips to stop from saying something soppy that would keep him there, "I'm alright, I've," he kept spluttering, but nodding like an ornamental dog; then the metallic voice rang out above their heads, and Martin checked his watch, "I-I've got to go before they leave without me."
"Yeah." Deborah replied, caught by a rush of cold dread, freezing the fluttering in her chest; but she had to smile through it, and step back, and lay her hand encouragingly on Martin's arm, forcing herself not to cling to the layers and layers that he was bundled in, "Good luck. I love you."
"I love you too." Martin choked, showing one last moment of trepidation before he took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders back, and then dipped down to pull Deborah into a proper, lingering, intense kiss that made her want to cry with how tainted the fluttering in her chest felt; it was perfect and wonderful, and one of the most painful things that she had experienced.
When Martin's lips finally left hers, leaving a cold empty space, and his hands disappeared from her waist and neck, Deborah conceded defeat and allowed him to slip through her fingers, lagging and lingering and on the verge of tears again as the image of his blue eyes and freckled cheeks blurred slightly, and she felt herself begin to tremble again.
Deborah couldn't trust herself to speak as Martin swept down to pluck his bags from the floor, and she smiled widely through her tears as he stumbled backwards through the crowd and towards the security desks, as if he were trying not to take his eyes off of her a moment before he needed to.
Then Martin was gone, and all of a sudden Deborah became hyper aware of all the people around her; she wrapped her arms around her chest as if the solidity of her limbs could fix the itching, horrible vacuum that tugged at her flesh and made her ears ring.
Then she crumbled….
Deborah could stay standing, and she could just about regulate her breathing, or at least hold in the noisy sounds that anyone else might be making, but she couldn't quash the shaking, or the tears the poured down her cheeks no matter how much she tried to blink them away as the thoughts in her head were washed away by the silent sobs wracking through her chest.
She let herself cry, drowning in the waves of misery the roared through her head, for only a short while; then Deborah knew that she had to gather herself up, and she had to get back to her car, and then maybe…maybe she might be stable enough to drive home alone.
I'm not sure what to say about this...so I hope you liked it?