Martha walked along a side street of Manhattan. She folded her arms as if to protect against the cold. She was nervous, though she had wanted to go out, so she had. She couldn't find the cafe where they'd agreed to meet, and she was growing more nervous with every step. She kicked a stray can that had fallen out of a dumpster, and a cat hissed and ran away from her. The grey, gloomy day had her thoughts drag around her head as if they held cinder blocks, and other thoughts swirling around in circles, lightning-fast, staying but never fading.
She brushed her short ginger hair out of her face. It was a cute little haircut so that the tips of her hair tickled the back of her neck. Putting her earbuds in her ears, she drowned out the world with music.
Walking along, she wasn't really focused on where she was going. She walked into someone and fell to the ground. She scraped her hand on the brick wall beside her, drawing blood. She didn't want the stranger to see her tears, so she picked up her fallen earbuds, tucking them into her pocket. When she looked up, the person was still there, looking at her. Suddenly more nervous, Martha tucked a strand of hair out of her face. "Uh- uh- umm...." she stuttered, trying desperately to apologise, but her mind didn't know what to say.
Some girl walked into Dustin, and he stopped walking. In New York, it's a common thing. But this girl was one he recognized. He never saw her often, just on occasion, he assumed she was a homebody. She was an average-sized redhead, though her long red hair was gone. It had been replaced with a long pixie, and the sun made her red hair seem light ginger. It was dangerous, but whenever Dustin saw her, he felt a feeling he'd never felt before rising in him.
He kneels down to help her up and she shies away from him. Dustin frowns slightly, as he stands up. "What's your problem?" he asks her. She stutters, and Dustin's expression softens. He feels bad, he didn't mean to snap at her. She slowly stands. "I'm Dustin Henderson," he says, and smiles. She puts something in her pocket, which he assumes are earbuds. Then he sees a red droplet fall from her hand.
"Are you alright? You're bleeding." Dustin asks and reaches out to her. "Sweetheart, I won't hurt you. I just want to help," he says softly, and cringes slightly because of all the times for it to happen, his accent slipped.
Time seems to stop at the word sweetheart. Martha can feel her cheeks burn and can only assume they're bright red. She looks at the ground and smiles a little bit at his accent. "N- nice to meet you, Dustin," she says quietly and looks up at him. Martha smiles, and a wisp of hair flies in her face. "My name is Martha O'Malley," she says.
Dustin's heart skips a beat when she speaks. It has a slight lilt to it, and he smiles. He brushes her hair behind her ear, and Dustin sees Martha's brown eyes. They're a beautiful coffee colour, and have warmth in them. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Martha," he says and takes a small step back. He's not supposed to get attached to people, and this girl was dangerously close already. "I- have to get going," he said and started to walk away.
Martha wobbles a bit as he turns to go. Dustin's act of kindness was the first thing she'd felt since she was younger. Even if all he had done was brush her hair out of her eyes, it had been very nice of a stranger. "Yes," she said softly, answering his question.
Dustin turned back to Martha. "What?" he asked and took a step toward her. "My hand... is bleeding a little," Martha said. He held out his hand for hers and smiled. "Come on, let's go fix you up," he says.
She tentatively takes Dustin's hand. She's surprised how soft he is, considering he looked so tough. "Maybe he's not as mean as he looks..." Martha whispers to herself. "Hm?" Dustin looks back at her as he keeps walking. "Nothing," she says, and shrugs. Dustin raises his eyebrow inquisitively and just shrugs back at her. He tightens his grip on her hand, and Martha winces. It's her bleeding hand, and she felt another drop of blood fall to the ground. "D- Dustin, my hand..." she says and slows.
Dustin turned quickly and loosened his grasp. "I'm sorry," he said and looked at her. "It-it's okay," she whispered and looked at the ground. "No, it's not okay. Speak up if I'm hurting you," he says. Martha could see the hurt in his eyes, although she didn't know if it was because she hurt him somehow, or if it was because he had hurt her. "I honestly don't mind getting hurt. I couldn't care less," she said with a small smile, shrugging off the pain. Her hand still hurt a little bit, but not as much as before.
He sighed. 'A person should care if they get hurt.' Dustin thought. 'But she doesn't. What's wrong?' he wondered. They kept walking, and Dustin turned down a side alley. "W- where are we going?" Martha asked, afraid. He turned to her and saw her nervous expression.
She was a bit pale, and her soft brown eyes were darting around, as a nervous rabbit would. He could almost see her nose twitch as if she was one. Dustin smiled softly, and gently squeezed her other hand to reassure her.
Martha calms down a little and focuses on Dustin. "Why?" she whispered. Dustin looked a little surprised at her question and tilted his head to the side. "Why what?" he asked her. "No one's ever nice to me. So why are you?" she asked, sounding sad and confused.
Dustin looked at her, looking a little sad himself, and pulled her closer. "Because that's who I am. I'm a nice person. And you need some kindness." he whispered in her ear.
Martha started to cry. One, because he was being nice to her, and two, because she was scared. She had been neglected as a child, so her mental and emotional health had not been the best. Neither had her physical health, which he could clearly see because she was so thin.
"Martha, what's wrong?" Dustin asked, concerned. He wrapped his arms around Martha and pulled her into a hug. "N- nothing. I- I just..." she took a shuddery breath. "Let's go to my apartment... I have bandages and things," she said, though she made no movement to get out of his arms. 'She must trust me a lot if she isn't pulling away,' he thought. "Do you want to go now?" he asked. He didn't quite know what to do, so he just held the poor woman.
Martha just shook her head and didn't move. "I..." she stopped, hesitant. Why was she about to tell him? He was a stranger. But... he seemed so nice. No, kind.
She took a breath and started again. "I was left alone, as a kid. Everybody ignored me. No one-" she paused, and gulped. "No one cared. Not even now. And you just... do. You care. I've always had to struggle on my own, and even my friends don't really bother to ask if I need anything, because I always say no." she said. Martha leaned on Dustin, and he stayed there, supporting her. He was like a rock. She was a tidal wave of confusion, and he stayed put. Solid and immovable.
Taking a deep breath, Martha shakily stood and Dustin wiped her eyes. "If you ever need anything, don't..." he paused for a split second, taking half a moment to realise he was going to break the most major rule in The Pack. "Don't hesitate to ask, Martha. You... are the sweetest person ever. And if you need help, just ask me, okay?" he asked softly. Martha teared up again and nodded. "You're going to make me cry again. Let's go," she said and smiled as she took his hand.
Dustin pulled her to him and hugged her tight against him. She buried her face in his chest, and he put his chin on her head. He saw a person watching them from across the street and stared at them. He blinked, and they were gone. "Show me the way, darlin'," he said softly and followed her.
She led him through large crowds, and the sky darkened as they walked. There was a bolt of lightning, and they heard thunder, at which Martha bolted. She paused at the top of Main Street and looked behind her. "Where's Dustin?" she asked herself. She saw him and waved. "Over here," she shouted. Martha saw him smile, and he ran up to her.
"Why'd you run?" he asked her, looking around. "I- I'm afraid of thunder," she said quietly as it started to rain. Dustin smiled. "Go ahead, laugh," Martha said, and looked away. Dustin tipped her chin up so she'd look at him. "I'm not going to laugh at you. It's perfectly normal to be afraid of thunderstorms," he said.
It was pouring a minute later, and Dustin pulled up his hood. Martha walked close to him, arms folded across her chest, and soaked. He's about to offer her his jacket when she turns left and walks through an alleyway. Pulling down the fire escape to a building, she hoists herself up the ladder, which is slick with rain. She motions for Dustin to follow her. They climb to the fifth floor and hop in through the hallway window.
Thunder booms from outside and Martha sways a little as she walks. She falls on a door that has the number 510 on it in peeling gold numbers. A key slips out of her pocket and Dustin picks it up. It's an ordinary key, with the same number as the door. 510.
"Want me to unlock the door for you?" he asks softly. Martha nods and stands. Dustin unlocks the door and helps her inside.
He's met with a nice looking living room, with black furniture, grey walls, and a dark maple hardwood floor. There was a white rug under the black ebony coffee table. The island in the kitchen was light grey stone, as were the counters. One thing Dustin noticed was there were a lot of fluffy pillows on the couch, colours ranging from black to grey to white, so there was enough room for only one person. He turned his attention to Martha, who was leaning heavily on him. She looked a little pale, she was shivering, and her breathing was shallow.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks, flicking the light switch on and off. He growls in frustration, and Martha hits the wall with her fist. The lights turn on. They flicker, and with the next roll of thunder, they all make a pop! sound and go back off.
"Nothing's wrong," she says loudly. Dustin pulls off his hood as she stalks away, fists clenched, and looking ready to cry out of anger. He grabs her arm. "Where you going?" he asked. Martha seems to soften as she looks at him, and takes a deep breath. "I need to go to the fuse box. And -and find what's wrong," she said.
Dustin lets go of her and takes off his jacket. "Oh, let me hang that up for you," Martha says, holding out one hand for it. "Um, that's okay," he said, still a little concerned for her. "Where do you want me to hang it up?" he asked. "The coat rack in the closet," she whispered and pointed to the door by the windows.
He hung up his jacket and heard a thud in the hallway. Running to Martha, he hears whispers of "ow" being repeated over and over again.
"What- are you okay, Martha?" he asked and helped her up. "I- I just s- slipped is all..." she said, grimacing. She had her hurt hand cradled against her chest and she was pale as a ghost in the dark. Her breaths came in shallow gasps now, and she looked ready to fall over again.
"Let's go fix the fuses," she whispered and turned to the door next to her. Dustin opened the door, and Martha crossed what was a bedroom to the closet. She pulled open the door, and pushed aside dresses that were apparently hung in the way. "The fuse box is back here. I- I need..." she faltered, trying to remember.
"It's okay, Martha. I can fix it." Dustin said. His eyes adjusted to the dark as he walked in behind her. He immediately found Martha in the deep closet, because her shirt was a pale lavender colour, and her complexion was still like that of a ghost.
Dustin's phone light pierced the darkness, and he fixed the lighting problem. Martha held the light for him, and he found the screwdriver she had on a shelf next to the box. "All fixed." Dustin said, and turned to Martha. He took his phone back, smiled, then took her hand. "Th- thank you..." she whispered, and looked up at him.
"Don't mention it, sweetheart. Has this happened before?" Dustin asked. Martha nodded slightly. "I usually just wait till morning when it's lighter. I always forget that my phone has a flashlight." she says. Dustin pulled her close, and held her in his arms. Martha was now shaking. Her breathing was still in shallow gasps, and ragged. She groaned softly when he pulled her closer still, and buried her face in his shirt.
"D- Dustin..." she whispered, and looked up at him. He looked down at her. "Yes, sweetheart?" he asked. He could see fear in her eyes, she uttered a soft gasp, and fell unconscious. "Martha?" he asked softly, and she didn't stir. Dustin picked her up, and walked to the couch. Moving aside a bunch of pillows, he lay her down and went to the closet.
He found a blanket, and put it over her, then brushed some hair out of her face as she slept. Dustin quickly locked the door, and checked the rooms for any other people. In Martha's apartment, there was a living room, a bedroom, two closets, a bathroom, and the kitchen. He looked in the mirror for medicine, and found prescription bottles.
He knew it wasn't any of his business, but what if she had forgotten to take her medication? There were meds for allergies, and one that was for sleeping. "800 milligrams is a lot for sleeping." he muttered. Medicines for when she was sick. And then there was a prescription for antidepressants half hidden in the back.
"Depression?" He whispered. It was louder than he meant it to be, though he didn't hear movement from the living room. He put the medicines away, remembering to half-hide the last one, and went back to Martha. Pulling off his boots, Dustin set them next to the door, then sat next to her, and quickly fell asleep.
Martha woke up in the middle of the night and heard thunder. She cowered under the blanket, then heard soft breathing. She cried out quietly. Then she remembered. "He stayed." she said, with a teary smile. Dustin moved, and took a deep breath. "Of course I stayed, darlin." he said sleepily. He sat up, and stretched.
"How long have I been asleep?" Martha asked. "Two weeks." Dustin replied, walking over and turning on the light in the kitchen. "What?!" she shouts, and stands up. Then she groans, and sits back down, her head in her hands. He laughs, and when he hears her groan, he sits next to her. "No, I'm sorry. I was joking. Just a few hours." He says softly, and wraps an arm around her.
Martha smiles. "Well, it was kind of funny." she said quietly, and stood slowly. She swayed, and would have fallen if Dustin hadn't caught her. "Th- thank you." she said, and gently pushed him away. Martha went to her room and changed into pajamas. When she came back out she had a pale pink short sleeve shirt on, and her pink pajama pants had foxes on them.
"I- I need to get my medication..." she whispered, and walked to the bathroom. Dustin quietly followed her, to make sure she didn't fall. She opened the mirror, and pulled out her meds. She took several allergy pills, and put them away. Martha sighed, looking down in the sink, and brushed her hair out of her face. She groaned softly, and clutched at her side. Dustin moved to help her, but he caught her eye, and she shook her head softly. "No." she mouthed.
'What are you doing?' he wondered. Martha grimaced, and groaned. The look on her face was pure terror, and she paled. Martha managed to take one last look at him, and she fell to the floor. Dustin dashed forward, and helped her up. "Which one do you need?" he asked anxiously. "The- the-" she gulped, and motioned to the largest bottle.
The depression pills.
Dustin gave her one. She took it, and started sobbing. "Martha, why? What's wrong?" he asked her, sitting with her. She only cried, and sat on the floor in Dustin's arms. "I'm worthless. Hopeless. I'm a nobody." she whispered. "No, Darlin', that's not true. You are somebody. You're Martha. And..." he had to hold back tears. He hated seeing a woman like this, crying so hard. "And you're special. You know why?" he asked softly. The thought that he was about to break a very important rule, the most important rule, the fact that he could possibly get them both hurt flashed briefly through his mind, but he pushed it away, because he had already broken it.
"N- n- no. Tell me." she said.
"You're special because... because I love you." he whispered in her ear. Martha looked up at him, and was surprised enough to calm down. "Really?" she asked softly, tilting her head. Dustin nodded, pulling her closer to him. "Dustin... I love you, too." she said, and looked at him. Martha lays her head on his chest, and sets her hand on his shoulder. She looked up, and saw him looking down at her.
Martha smiled at him, and sat up. She slowly reached up and brushed some hair behind his ear. The hand on her back held her close to him, and she nuzzled into his neck. She heard a light gasp and a very soft, very quiet growl from Dustin. She felt safe in his arms, and never wanted to leave him. Martha took a deep breath and sat back up slowly, lightly dragging her thumb along his jawline.
Dustin growled softly, and tilted his head up to the ceiling, leaving his neck exposed. She blew on it softly, and his attention snapped to her. "Martha..." he whispered. "Yes?" she asked quietly as she looked up at him. "You want me to kiss you or not?" he asked her softly. Martha blushed.
He tilted her chin up with his finger and kissed her gently.
Martha gasped softly, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt his hands grip her waist, and she pulled away slightly. "You want to know something?" she asked with a small smile. "What is it, Darling?" he asked softly, gazing into those soft brown eyes of hers. "I've never been kissed before." she whispered, and kissed him harder.
Dustin was a little surprised at that, but yet not at the same time. And more surprised when she kissed him harder.
"You're beautiful, Martha. You just can't see it yet." Dustin whispered a minute later as she rested in his arms. He picked her up, and carried her to her bed, and lay next to her. He wrapped an arm around Martha, and she rustled under the sheet. He smiled, and stroked her cheek.
She slept.
In the morning, Martha woke up wrapped in Dustin's arms. She stay put where she was because one: she enjoyed being held, and two: she was being held. She could not move, but didn't mind because she was still tired, and her hand hurt.
Rolling onto her side, she faced Dustin, and kissed him softly. He held her tighter and closer, then buried his nose in her hair. He kissed her, and pulled her up so they were both sitting. "Darling, I love you." he whispered, and brushed her hair behind her ear. "I love you too, now get out so I can change out of my pajamas." she laughed. Dustin went out, and sat on the couch while he waited for Martha to change.
She came out dressed in a dark grey long sleeve and dark blue jeans with a black leather belt. Dustin smiled, and Martha sat next to him. She leaned on his shoulder, and sighed quietly. He frowned slightly, and looked at her. "What's wrong?" he asked. "N- nothing..." she replied.
"Liar." Dustin said. "Martha, please tell me. Maybe I can help." She tensed, and sat up quickly. "You can't help me, Dustin. I-" she takes a deep, quivery breath. "I have depression. That's why last night I said those things... It's why I don't matter to anyone. It's why I don't go out much. It's why I cry so much, why I make myself miserable, and there's nothing I can do about it." she said angrily, standing and starting to cry.
Dustin stood as well. "Please, let me try. Even if all you need me to do is listen to you talk in the middle of the night, I will." he said, and brushed her messy hair behind her ear. Martha closed her eyes, and held his palm to her cheek.
After a minute, she slowly let go, and looked Dustin in the eyes. "I'm sorry." she said, and looked away. "Sorry?" he asked. "For what?"
"For getting angry with you." Martha said. "It's a symptom. Getting agitated easily, feeling hopeless, and not caring about myself. I'm sorry."
"Martha, don't be sorry." he said softly. He took a deep breath, and got his jacket. "I'm going to go to my place and change, okay? Do you want me to come back?" Dustin asked. Martha looked at him. "Um... no. Not really. M- maybe we can meet someplace later?" she asked, sounding hopeful.
"Of course. How about the park on the corner of Main and 3rd at two tomorrow afternoon?" he asked. Martha nodded, and smiled. "Oh, here." she said as he turned to go out the door. He turned back to her, and she held out a piece of paper to him. He opened it up, and it had her number on it. And a heart. Smiling, he wrote his number on a corner of the paper, tore it off, and gave it to her. "Call me if you ever need anything." he said as she took it. "Anything, okay?" he said, not letting go. She nodded, and gave a small smile. Dustin kissed her cheek, and left.
Dustin closed the door, and let out the deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Martha, what are you doing to me?" he muttered as he walked away. The walk to his apartment was surprisingly short because he didn't realize until he walked outside that they lived in the same building. Laughing at himself, he walked up the stairs to his apartment, which was number 1109. Shutting the door to his apartment, he felt something was a bit off.
He looked around, and then he realized it. His dog wasn't there. "Stuart, where are you buddy?" he shouted. Then he heard the clicking of dog tags and the soft thud of paws on the floor coming from the bathroom. For some reason, Stuart liked to sleep in the tub.
He laughed, and pet his dog. "Sorry I wasn't home last night, Stuart. I met someone and she needed help." he explained. The black German Shepherd's ears perked up at "she". "Yes, boy. I met a girl. Her name is Martha, and she's very nice." he said as he scratched his dog's stomach.
There was a knock on the door, and Dustin frowned. He hadn't been expecting anyone. He got up and opened the door. "Hello, Dustin Henderson." said a man. He was dressed in a black hoodie, and dark grey jeans. He had unshaved stubble on his face, which gave him a chiseled look. "Hi, Brett. What you been up to lately? Watching people?" he asked. Brett scowled, and crossed his arms protectively across his chest.
"In case you're wondering, yes. I did in fact see you yesterday with that... woman. You remember the code, don't you?" Brett asked with forced niceness. Dustin sighed, and nodded. "No women. No love. Nothing to do with any of the opposite gender. Yes, I remember. What of it?" he asked, leaning on the doorway. Stuart sat behind him, watching Brett carefully.
"What of it? he asks me." Brett mutters. "You know what the rules say about breaking the codes. Penalty for breaking them is most likely a fate worse than death. So, if you keep seeing her, one of you..." he paused for emphasis, "could end up dead." he finished, and walked away. Stuart barked, and Brett turned, glaring. "And do something about that mutt." he said.
"Actually, he's a purebred." Dustin called down the hall as he shut the door. He sat on the couch, and pet Stuart who hopped up beside him. "How can I say no to her?" he asked his dog. "She's so nice. And beautiful. Very, very beautiful. You'll meet her sometime, buddy." Dustin promised.
He changed into blue jeans and a black shirt, and he kept his brown leather jacket from the day before. Dustin picked up a piece of paper that had fallen out of his pocket. It was Martha's number. He smiled at the heart she had put next to her name, and put the number in his phone. 718-225-3697 was the number he typed into his contacts, and labelled it Martha. Then added a heart. He smiled, and set an alarm for the next day, falling asleep.
Martha pulled on a light pink fleece over her grey shirt, and put small gold earrings in her ears. She smiled at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "You got this, Martha!" she whispered to herself. And immediately felt ridiculous. "I can't do this, I can't do this..." she paced her apartment, and finally put on her shoes and went out to the hall.
She checked her pockets for her keys before locking her door, and realized she didn't have them. Martha nearly cried, then remembered Dustin probably had them because he unlocked her door last night. "I'll just ask him when I meet him." she muttered, and started walking.
Taking the fire escape out, she put in her earbuds, and started listening to her music. She had her small wallet in her pocket, with her iPod as well as her phone, and the slip of paper that had Dustin's number on it.
She got to the park at about 1:50, and started looking around for him. She couldn't find him, so she lay down on a bench, tucking her knees up so she only took up half. She stared at the sky, listening to the sounds of nearby traffic.
Martha closed her eyes, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I should have known he wouldn't come." she muttered. "What do you mean?" asked a voice. She opened her eyes, and it was Dustin. She sat up, and wiped away her tears. She smiled as he sat next to her. He brushed her hair behind her ear.
She closed her eyes, and held his hand to her cheek. "I couldn't find you earlier, so I thought I was too late, or that you hadn't come." she said quietly, not letting go of his hand. Dustin softly kissed her, and Martha opened her eyes as he pulled away. She leaned on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. The thoughts swirling around Martha's head slowed, and she calmed down. She took a deep breath, and enjoyed his company.
After a little while of sitting like that, Martha sits up, and looks at Dustin. "This might sound kind of silly, but do you have the key to my apartment?" she asked, and gave an embarrassed smile. Dustin thinks for a moment, and laughs. "Yes, I think I do. Sorry." he says, reaching into his pocket. He gives Martha her key, and smiles apologetically. "At least you had them and not some random stranger." she said. Dustin blinked. Martha looked at him, then started to laugh.