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Paranoia and anxiety were the new normal of the post-change world. Information now flooded Jon's brain whether he wanted it to or not, and he had to work on controlling it. Easier said than done. He was able to funnel it into statements, or at the beginning, even just recording his regular talking into a tape recorder. Apparently, their world was full of enough fear as is, just Jon talking was enough to satisfy the horrors that sustained him. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option that presented itself. The eye was hungry and it would not stop until it gained the fear it needed. If not, the eye knew it could punish Jon.
Did Jon know that the eye was at fault for his current state? Realistically he should have, but considering how dazed he was, he couldn't bear to even try and think about that factor. The last few weeks had been difficult. Living at the end of the world requires routine, which is difficult to achieve in a realm where time and space are an anomaly.
Martin remembers that day as vividly as one could. He remembers seeing the sky grow into the most horrifying yet stunning shade of plum, green eyes staring down in all directions. He ran back to the house, only to find Jon's body sprawled on the floor in front of the couch with a nasty red mark on his forehead from where he must have hit it as he slumped over. Martin could feel the oh-so-familiar fog of the lonely creeping in, but it subsided as he saw Jon's chest rise and fall steadily. Since then, Jon had vowed to keep Martin as safe as possible no matter what.
Even if that meant destroying himself in the process.
If a statement could cause the end of the world, imagine what it could do to a single person. If the eye were to be angered, Jon feared it would bring its hellish fire upon Martin, and he would not have that over his dead body. So, he decided to stop reading statements. Based on what Elias/Jonah had told him previously, if he was not sustaining the eye, he himself would start to wither and die, and clearly that's what is happening.
Martin wasn't dumb He knew something was wrong with Jon, but he was always brushed off with a generic response from Jon. Always, "Oh, I'm just adjusting to the new place," or, "It's just hay fever." But Martin knew that was all bullshit. especially because spring did not exist anymore. No more were there beautiful buds outside the cabin that Martin could arrange for hours on end. No, now it was barren earth, and even the flowers inside withered to shriveled green skeletons of what they used to be.
Eventually, it all became too much. The eye was at its lowest point it could be, and Jon was following suit. Martin was sitting on the couch with his notebook and pen trying but failing to push some words down on the paper, even if they were meaningless. A rustling from behind signaled that he wasn't alone in the room anymore.
"Morning," Martin said from his position on the couch, slightly tilting his head up but not taking his eyes off the page he was idly scribbling on.
"Morning" Jon croaked out, voice hoarse from exhaustion and disuse. He never really talked much these days, he just sat and tried to focus his eyes on something.
"You alright? You sound a bit off today." Martin asked, turning his body to try and get a better look at Jon. He muttered an intelligible response before starting to sway slightly, knuckles going white from his grip on his cane. Martin stood slightly, tossing his pad and paper onto the couch and raising his arms slightly. Just then, Jon's knees buckled and he was quickly headed for the floor. Martin sprung into action upon this, catching Jon by the waist and slowly lowering his form to the floor.
*-*
Jon awoke with an intense pressure in the back of his head and an ache in his right hip from the angle his knees bent at. He groaned slightly as his vision came back into focus, surprised his glasses were still on his face. From his position on the hard floor, he could feel his legs elevated slightly and noticed two of the soft pillows stacked and placed under his ankles. Just then, he saw Martin round the corner of the wall dividing the kitchen and the living room.
"Oh good, you're awake!" Martin said, his face painted with a weird cross between worry and relief. Jon simply nodded and tried to adjust his position, but was interrupted by his muscles tensing beneath him. "Here, let me help you," Martin said, quickly kneeling next to Jon and placing a hand under his back, slowly guiding Jon into a sitting form. Even though the movement wasn't so sudden, Jon's eyesight went black around the edges and he felt as if he would collapse again.
"It's alright, I've got you," Martin said as he slowly brought Jon's head to his chest because he knew Jon always had a minor heart attack when his vision went blurry. From beneath Martin's chin, he could feel Jon begin to tremor slightly and felt a drop on his hand.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Martin asked as he did a quick scan to see if anywhere was bleeding or seemed a little too pointy. Jon just looked up and brought his hand to his chest, drawing clockwise circles around it.
"Sorry? What are you sorry for?" He asked, smiling a bit at the apology. Though it took a moment, Jon's shakes and tears subsided enough to where he could talk coherently.
"I stopped reading the statements. I just wanted to keep you safe for as long as I could, and I figured they were pretty dangerous at this point, so I stopped. I knew the risk but I was willing to accept it because I can't lose you. I will be goddamned if I am the cause of another person's death." He finished, looking up at Martin with watery eyes and a pained expression. Martin simply stared back with his mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to respond.
"I can't believe you would put yourself in that much danger for me! Nope, this ends today. We are going to get you feeling better and you will be reading a statement. Clearly, you can't go on like this." He managed to spit out. Jon quickly tried to rebuttal, but it was no use. Martin shook his head and continued on. "I can defend myself if anything happens. We need to focus on you, okay?"
"Okay," Jon sighed. He wasn't used to this type of care, so it was a bit jarring but he wasn't complaining. He obliged as Martin helped him hobble over to the couch, even though it took about 3 minutes for a ten-step stride. He sat down and Martin grabbed a statement from the pile on the counter and set it down in Jon's lap. Martin planted a kiss on Jon's forehead and began to walk back to their bedroom before he was interrupted by Jon.
"Do you mind staying? Only if you want to, of course." Jon asked, turning to face Martin behind him. Martin smiled and nodded as he sat next to Jon on the couch, falling into their familiar formation. Jon rested his head in Martin's lap as Maritn began to fiddle with his thick waves and Jon began to read the statement without issue. Even in the apocalypse, they still had each other and sometimes, that's all you need.