There was only so much room on the small hospital beds, and it seemed they were both relieved to finally be out of there, to finally have a bed where they could properly lay side-by-side again, holding each other close.
It was dark, but Jon could still see the extent of the injuries Martin had acquired. His chest ached as he ran his hands along Martin's bare side, wishing he could have protected him from all of that pain. Martin was likely thinking something similar, his own hand ghosting near a cut at Jon's hairline.
Martin took him by surprise when he leaned forward, placing a kiss there, careful not to touch the injury, moving down to place a kiss to the next injury he could see, on his shoulder, his arm.
Jon still wasn't used to this, to the depth of emotion Martin could show. He wasn't used to anyone being glad about his continued survival, he didn't deserve it. His eyes burned and his throat was tight as he watched Martin, a deep ache in his chest, wishing he had the words to impart the depths of what he felt for him.
Martin's movements stilled, his hand hovering near Jon's stomach where, beneath the fabric of his shirt, they both knew lay the bandage where the blade had pierced him. He hesitated there for too long, grief and guilt written on his face, so Jon, shaking his head as if rejecting that guilt, reached out to take his hand, placing a kiss to his knuckles before holding it close to his chest as he leaned forward to hold him close.
The last thing he wanted was for Martin to blame himself for that. They would need to talk about what happened eventually, to try to work out the tragedy they had gone through, the ways they hurt each other, and the horrible things they had found they were capable of. But right now, all he wanted to do was wipe away every bit of guilt he might feel, to apologize endlessly for causing all of this, sealing their fate when he ended the world.
Words failed him, so instead he decided to return the favor, to hopefully show Martin how much he was loved, how glad he was to have him here, how lucky he felt being together, just as he had done for him a moment ago. So, he placed a kiss near his temple, his shoulder, near every burn and cut and bruise he'd received. He poured everything he had into every gentle touch, meeting Martin's eyes every time as if to say he chose this. He chose Martin and he would continue to do so for as long as he wanted him here.
Martin's eyes were probably as red as his own when he finally grabbed Jon and pulled him in for a desperate kiss. There was no stopping the tears or the small devastated sound Jon made, knowing this was a pain in Martin that he couldn't wipe away. They were a mess, so concerned with the other's well being while oblivious to their own. Jon was sure he'd be haunted by Martin's declaration that he would simply rather die than leave him alone, back in the tower. The thought twisted something inside him, breaking him apart, and made him fear he was going to cry for a completely different reason. And he knew Martin would rip himself apart for laying a hand on him even though it wasn't his fault, he had no other choice.
They were so exhausted and emotionally raw from everything, all of it exposed now that they were alone together under the blankets, but they held each other close, sharing the same air, Martin with his hand on Jon's cheek, gently rubbing across stubble, and Jon with his arm wrapped around his middle, as if afraid he might fall away at any moment. Holding each other like this, their limbs were bound to go numb and they'd eventually overheat, but they were too reluctant to let go right now. Any discomfort felt worth it.
Jon was pretty sure Martin had purposefully positioned himself with his ear pressed against Jon's chest just so he could hear his beating heart, to reassure himself that he was alive. Jon was, of course, perfectly content with the position, endlessly running his fingers through Martin's hair, enjoying the warmth of him. They both needed the reassurance that they weren't alone, that they were together. Maybe it would help them believe that this really was happening. Maybe it would stave off the nightmares for just a little while.
And that was something Jon was trying to get used to all over again. Having actual nightmares, instead of looming over his victims as he watched them suffer, useless and unable to help them. His mind was getting adept at conjuring up all sorts of horrors to torment him with the sort of fodder it had gained over the past years. No doubt they would be getting worse now that he was off the steady stream of sedatives and painkillers the hospital had him on. He was looking forward to at least being able to wake up to Martin's comfortable weight when it did happen.
A chill ran through him as a realization struck him and he desperately hoped that nights spent with Martin in his arms were memories he'd be allowed to keep. Any memories at all, really. If, or more likely when, the eye grew more powerful, would he lose all this again, like he had forgotten everything that had happened at Salesa's?
It was a frightening prospect, to wake up one day and lose the life he'd built here with Martin, to know he wouldn't change with him, wouldn't be able to keep the memories they made together. He wouldn't know the extent Martin went through to make him feel loved, to make him feel safe.
His eyes burned all over again at the thought and he closed them tightly, thankful that it seemed tonight was just an emotional night and Martin was unlikely to notice the difference. It wasn't that he was trying to keep this from him, he'd tell him, soon. But maybe he could give Martin just this little bit of happiness before his health began to decline. Lord knows Martin deserved it.
He deserved better. He deserved so much more than all of this, so much more than Jon could possibly give. He was still determined to try, though. Because Martin was worth it. And because, for some inexplicable reason, Martin had chosen him.
As he slipped off to sleep at last, it was with one thought that he knew to be true. If he did lose all of these new memories, instead of fading away completely, he would always be trapped in the moments after he'd doomed countless worlds and put Martin through so much pain. He would be trapped in all that guilt and self loathing forever looming over him, crushing him, never able to allow the agony to recede with the passage of time. And he would deserve it. He deserved to relive it every day for the rest of his life for what he had done, for all of the horror he has caused. He just wished Martin could be spared the constant reminder he would become.
