Dustin felt a sort of blooming feeling in his chest, when she laughed. It was a sweet, childish kind of laugh. It made her look younger, and erased all the negative memories of the night before.
"We still are practically strangers." she said, stopping her laughter, and making Dustin wish she'd laugh again. "Okay, how about this... I ask you a question, and you ask me a question. If it's a question that seems too personal, we can skip it." she suggests. Dustin smiles. "I like that idea. You first." he says, and pulls her in closer.
"Well, hmm... Have you ever kissed anyone before me?" Martha asked. "No, I haven't." replied Dustin. He thought for a minute, and asked his question. "Do you have any other illnesses besides depression?" Martha looked at him, a little sadly, and nodded. "Anxiety. It's why I moved away from you when we first met. I was scared. And... and terrors. I don't know what to call them, but they're terrors. Keep me from sleeping, taunt me..." she stopped, a fearful and distant look in her eyes. Dustin cupped her cheek, and she looked at him in surprise. "I'm here." he whispered.
They kept asking each other questions for a while, and Dustin spotted someone staring at them from a distance away. "Martha, I have a serious question. Actually, two. But I need you to answer them. Are you currently in a relationship with anyone?" he asked her.
"Umm... no. Why, are you?" she asked. "No, I'm not. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with..." he broke off, and looked around, having spied a moving shadow in the corner of his eye. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "D- Dustin, are you okay? You're- you're scaring me..." Martha says anxiously. Her eyes start darting around nervously, unable to focus, searching for potential threats. Her breathing gets more shallow, and rapid.
He can see that she's becoming stressed and scared. "No, Martha. It- it's okay." he says, and pulls her into a hug. She calms down a bit, and takes a deep breath of her own. "If you say so. What's your other question?" she asks quietly, pulling away to sit up.
"I know you said you have social anxiety and stuff, but... are you part of any groups or- or anything?" he asked. "N- n- no! I'd be way too scared to go anywhere with them. Let alone join any clubs where I'd be required to attend meetings... Why, are you?" she replied, tilting her head.
"Yeah. And they're really strict and stuff... One of the rules is we're not allowed to, well, associate with people. Don't get attached to anyone." Dustin said, looking around.
"So, you're saying we can't be friends or anything?" Martha asked, her voice cracking. Dustin felt awful. "No, no, no! We can still be friends... Man, I am screwing this up..." he muttered. Martha stood, and wiped at her eyes. "It's starting to get dark... I want to go home." she whispered. Dustin sighed, and stood as well. "Martha, will you let me walk you back to your apartment?" he asked softly.
Martha nodded. She pushed her hands deep into her pockets, and walked along, not talking. The thoughts from earlier had long since floated away, and were now replaced with new ones, swirling around, making her head ache. She looked up, and found Dustin was looking at her. "Martha, I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean to say those things. I screwed up. Would you forgive me?" he asked quietly.
She shrugged, looking away, and not saying anything. She heard Dustin sigh, and she glanced over at him. He looked trapped. She understood how that felt, to be trapped in her own thoughts, unable to get away. "I forgive you." she said softly. She didn't know if he had heard her, but if she had looked at him, she would have seen that he had.
They got to her apartment, and Martha twisted the doorknob to let herself in. It was locked. "That- that's strange..." she muttered. "What?" asked Dustin. "The door was unlocked when I left... because I didn't know if you had my key." she whispered.
Her eyes widened slightly. She didn't know she had, but Dustin saw it. "Martha, do you want me to spend the night again?" he asked quietly. She nodded her head slightly, and pulled out her key to unlock the door. Her hand froze as she was about to open it. "Martha?" he whispered.
She had the look of terror on her face again, and she was getting paler. Her eyes were unfocused, and he noticed her arm had wrapped around her stomach and she was holding her side. Dustin couldn't hear her breathing, which scared him a little. Suddenly she took a large shuddery breath of air and twisted the key and let them in. She bolted to her room, and shut the door, leaving Dustin alone in the dark.
He took off his boots, and set them beside the door. He shut and locked it after he turned on the lights. He hung up his jacket, and heard quiet crying from Martha's room. Dustin ran to her door, and knocked. She didn't respond, so he tried to open it, but found he couldn't, as it was locked. "Martha?" he asked. Her crying only grew louder. "No, I'm not worth saving." she shouted. "Martha, let me in! Please! Let me in!" he shouted, pounding on the door.
Martha sat on her bed, crying so hard she could barely breathe. She was on her knees, and shaking. She could barely hear Dustin over the sound of her loud thoughts and her own sobbing. Her arms wrapped around her stomach, and her tears fell down her face. She heard the latch on the lock twist as Dustin tried to come in, but she had locked the door.
Her crying only grew louder as the negative thoughts swirled around her mind faster and faster, poking her and stabbing her with their sharp points, as they drew in closer.
You're a nobody. Nobody loves you. Dustin's faking it, you can never be with him. He doesn't love you. Nobody ever will because you're pathetic. You are worthless, and nobody can even stand the sight of you. You're better off dead than being here.
"Stop!" she shouted through her crying. "Stop!" she held her head as though it hurt. Her thoughts were so loud, they were giving her a headache that worsened every time the thoughts closed in on her, stabbing her again with their sharpness.
"Martha!" Dustin shouted. He twisted the knob, frantically trying to get to her. "Stop! Stop!" she cried, her sobs getting louder and louder. Dustin ran to Martha's jacket, which she had dropped on the floor as she had run to her room. He got the key, and ran back to her door.
Dustin unlocked the door, and saw her kneeling on her bed, arms wrapped around her head, and she was rocking back and forth. "Stop!" she shouted hoarsely. The look on her face was enough to tear Dustin's heart from him, and he went to her, taking her in his arms.
"No, Dustin! Go! Please... I'm not worth it." she sobbed, and tumbled off the side of the bed, scrambling to the doorway. "Where are you going?" Dustin asked, panic creeping into his voice. "I'm not worth it. Leave. I know you will. It's what everyone else has done."she cried. He stood up, and took a few steps towards her. "Yes you are, Martha. Tell me what you need." he said over her crying. "I want to die. I want to jump off the building and just die." she cried, and bolted to her door. She tried to open it, but Dustin had locked it. Dustin pulled her away from the door, picking her up by the waist. "It's better that way. Let. Me. Go. I want to die." she shouted, struggling against his grip. She kicked and tried to twist around and make him let go.
Dustin took several deep breaths. "No, Martha. You can't do that darling, I won't let you." he said, holding her even tighter. "Come with me. I know a better way. It's okay." he said. "You can't kill yourself. That's not- that's not the answer." She gave up fighting, and sniffled, worn out from trying to get away. He put her down, and took her hand, leading her like a small child. She tripped over the edge of the carpet, and would have fallen if he hadn't caught her. He picked her up and carried her.
He took her to the bathroom, and set her down on the floor, where she just stared straight ahead, a blank look on her face. Dustin searched the mirror cupboard, and quickly found what he was looking for. He opened the bottle of antidepressants, and handed two to Martha. "Take these. Please. I can't stand seeing you like this." he whispered, and knelt next to her.
She reluctantly took them, and choked them down. It took ten minutes for her to finally calm down, even though she still hiccuped. Dustin held her in his lap, so she was curled up and he was holding her to his chest as if she were a precious thing, because she was to him. And he was afraid to lose her. A few tears ran down his cheeks, and a couple must have landed on Martha, because she looked up at him sadly curious. "Why are you crying?" she asked softly.
"Because you were going to jump off the building. And I couldn't let you do that... I love you too much, Martha. When you were crying, and locked me out... I thought you were getting hurt." he whispered, tears still falling. "I thought... I thought you were actually going to kill yourself." he said, and his voice cracked. "Oh." Martha whispered.
"Let me go." she said softly. Dustin shook his head. "No." he answered. "Why not?" she asked a little sternly. "Because I'm afraid you'll hurt yourself." he said. Martha nodded. "Okay." she answered.
"Can I go to bed?" she asked a little while later. Dustin nodded, and carried her there. He sat there, holding her, and she rested her head on him. "May I lay down?" she asked quietly. Without a response, Dustin lay her down, but kept her wrapped up against his chest. She fell asleep.
Dustin lay awake for hours. He didn't want to fall asleep, afraid Martha would wake up and hurt herself. He brushed his fingers through her hair, and never let go of her. He dozed off.
Waking up in the middle of the night, Dustin heard something moving in the room. It took him a moment to realize Martha wasn't next to him. "Martha?" he asked quietly. He got no response, except quiet breathing that wasn't his. It sounded like she was over by the closet. He got up, and turned on the light.
Martha was curled up in the corner with a fluffy blanket. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked softly, sitting next to her. "Nothing." she whispered. He wrapped his arm over her shoulders, and pulled her in closer. "Liar." he murmured. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Why wouldn't you let me die?" she asked him softly. "Because I'm your guardian angel, sweetheart. I won't let you die." he said, and kissed her forehead.
"Hey, you know what? Will you go to a concert with me tomorrow night?" he asked, changing the subject. Martha looked at him like he was crazy. "M- me?" she whispered. "Um, yeah, I just asked you." Dustin replied, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. "I've already got a couple tickets. They're back row seats, so people won't look at you... And I think you'll enjoy it." he said.
"Sure. I'd love to." she said with a smile of her own. She nuzzled Dustin's neck and kissed him. He sighed softly, and she smiled. Martha slowly stood, and went to her bed. She lay down, and fell asleep. Dustin lay next to her, and fell asleep as well.
In the morning, Martha woke up to an empty bed. She looked at her alarm clock, and it was eight o'clock. "Oh no, oh no, oh no..." she muttered, jumping out of bed, and started getting dressed.
She didn't see anyone, though she heard something in the other room. It sounded like someone... humming? Dustin didn't seem like the musical type, though anyone could be into music, really. Martha could sing, and she didn't think she was good, though her friends had told her she was amazing.
She went out, and peeked into the living room. She saw Dustin looking out the window, sitting on the chair next to it, his back to her. She could see earbuds in his ears, and she smiled. She crept up behind him, and stood there, contemplating how to proceed.
Martha stepped forward, and he turned. "Hey." she said, standing with an arm behind her back, and the other hand brushing hair behind her ear. "Morning, sweetheart." Dustin said, standing up and putting his earbuds in his pocket.
"What're you listening to?" she asked. Dustin shrugged. "One of the songs that we're gonna be listening to tonight. I don't want to spoil it for you." he replied with a smile.
Martha smiled back, and turned to walk to the bathroom. "I don't want to break down today. Not like last night..." she whispered, looking for the bottle of depression pills. "Dustin, where's the bottle?" she shouted.
He appeared in the doorway. "I put them on the top shelf. Why?" he asked. Martha sighed. "I can't reach up there." she muttered, climbing on the counter. "Woah, woah, woah, darlin'. If you can't reach it, just ask me to get it for you." Dustin said, picking her up and setting her on the floor. He got the bottle down for her. Before handing it to her, he looked at her seriously. "Martha, you won't overdose, will you?" he asked softly.
"N- no. I want to go with you tonight." she said. Tears sprang into her eyes. "Why would you think that?" she whispered.
"Darling, you were an inch from jumping off the building last night. I want to make sure you won't try and commit s- suicide." he said, voice cracking. Martha blinked in surprise. "But... I won't. Because I have something to live for." she said. "And what would that be, Martha. What do you want to live for?" he asked incredulously.
"Not what. Who. I want to live for you. I want to be with you. I can't do that if I'm dead, now can I?" she asked softly, with a smile. She kissed his cheek, and took the bottle.
Popping two in her mouth, Martha screwed the cap back on, and put it on the counter. "I'm keeping them on the counter from now on, okay?" she asked.
Dustin had to blink a few times before he understood what she had said. "Yeah. The... bottle stays on the counter." he repeated. Martha nodded, and walked out. He stayed behind, and stared after her. Then blinked and walked out to the kitchen.
Martha was baking. She had the flour, sugar, eggs, and milk out. And some chocolate chips. She was singing to herself. If he was right, it was Angel with a Shotgun. He sang along, standing behind her, and looking over her shoulder. She whipped around, scared, and pressed herself into the edge of the counter. He took a step back, and started again. She finished the line, and gulped.
Dustin smiled, and brushed her hair out of her face. "Beautiful. The angels are jealous of your voice." he murmured. Martha blushed. "Well, you're good too." she said. "But not as good as you." he replied, and stepped away so she could keep baking.
Martha put the muffin tin in the oven, and cleaned up the flour on the counter. When she finished, Dustin pulled out his phone and played music so she could sing. When the music started, Martha tensed, and relaxed as she recognized the songs.
Putting the dirty dishes in the sink, she danced around the kitchen, singing along. She danced into the living room, eyes half closed, absorbed into the music. It seemed to carry her along, and she was the one controlling it. She danced with the grace of a ballerina, and moved like one, too.
Dustin put away the music when the song was over, and walked to Martha, who was now looking out the window. "You used to dance?" he asked softly. She took a deep breath. "Yes. I... was in a dance class when I was little. Like, when I was five. I did ballet, and tap. Why, could you tell?" she asked, turning red.
Dustin nodded. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Martha. You're amazing. Now when are they done?" he asked, motioning to the oven. Martha looked at the time. "Five minutes. Why?" she wondered. He shrugged.
A few minutes later, the timer went off for the muffins, and Martha pulled them out before Dustin could get to the oven. "Chocolate chip?" he asked. She nodded. "When is the concert?" she asked. "Five o'clock. You excited, sweetheart?" he asked.
Martha nodded. "And scared. I mean, I've never been to a concert before, so I'm excited for that, but also scared." she said. 'I've also never been out at night... this will be fun.' she thought as she put them away. But not before Dustin snatched one and ate it. "Hey!" she said playfully. "I didn't have one." he said, smiling.
"Oh, sorry. I could have sworn I offered you one..." she said, putting them in the cupboard. Her black hoodie was covered in flour, so she dusted it off. Her blue jeans also had some flour on them, so she bent over to brush it off. Dustin wolf-whistled, and she stood up. "What?" she asked, turning red.
"Nothing." he said, and got up. "Darling, I'm going to go to my apartment real quick, okay? I gotta change and feed my dog. Would you like to meet him?" he asked. "Puppy? Yes!" she said excitedly. "See you!"
Dustin grabbed his boots, and put them on. "See you in a few, darlin'. And eat something. Don't think I didn't notice." he says, then kisses her forehead and leaves. He runs up the stairs to his apartment. Stuart comes as soon as Dustin opens the door. "Hey buddy! How's my handsome boy?" he says, petting Stuart.
Dustin stands, and goes to fill Stuart's bowl, when he looks up. An envelope is on the coffee table, and has his name on it. Dustin Henderson.
"What on earth is this for?" he asked. Then flipped it over to open it. There was an ink stamp on the back of a coiled snake guarding an egg with a knife in its fangs.. The envelope was dated the day before. Dustin's eyes widened.
"No, no, no..." he muttered, opening the envelope.
Dear Dustin Henderson,
I regret to inform you... Actually, I have no regrets. None whatsoever. At all. I'm just going to put this simply. Actually, it's kind of complicated, so... Ugh, THIS is why I prefer texting people, and when we used to CALL people to tell them of certain doom.
But oh well, I chose a letter so basically, what I'm trying to say pretty much, is that your Martha woman... person... whatever she is... she's in danger. The Pack is after her now. One more slipup, and she's gone. Be on your guard, Henderson. There will be no next time.
We can't afford to lose one of our best men to some... person. Let's just call her that. Face it, Henderson, it's for your own good.
All the worst,
Joshua Walker and Brett Jackson
P.S. You are on the Watch List
Dustin folded the paper, put it back in the envelope, and took a deep breath. "Martha, I'm sorry. But you can't be seen with me after tonight." he whispered. He leashed Stuart, pocketed the note. He was going to ask if he could bring his guitar, because he wanted to play for Martha so she could sing.
Walking down to Martha's apartment, he was nervous. 'What would they do to her?' he wondered, and was surprised to find he had walked a flight too far. He sighed, and went up.
Knocking on Martha's door, it opened easily. "Oh, no." he whispered, and went into the apartment with Stuart close behind him. He searched the apartment, and there was no one there.
Stuart growled, standing in front of the bedroom door, which was shut. Dustin unfastened his sleeve knife so he could pull it at a moment's notice, and went in. Then he opened the door. At first, he didn't see anything, because the light was off and the curtains were drawn. Hearing a soft moan from the closet, Dustin flicked on the lights and stepped into the room.
He could see Martha bound in black rope in the closet. He saw small cuts on her arms, and there were red marks around her neck. There was a damp cloth tied over her mouth and nose, so her air was limited.
Running forward, he reached for her, but as he knelt down in front of her, there was a laugh from next to him, and suddenly there was a knife blade across his throat.
"Henderson, didn't you get the note? The Pack sent it yesterday." said Brett, stepping out from behind the closet door. He pulled the blade away from Dustin's throat, and tapped his chin with it. "Oh, wait, no. You didn't get it, did you? You were too busy helping your lady friend here to answer the door for me last night." he said, stepping between the door and Dustin, trapping Stuart outside, and Dustin and Martha in.
"Hey, uh, Brett. You do realize that... since I'm a part of The Pack, my dog is specially trained to help me escape?" Dustin asked, taking the knife out of his sleeve sheath. He whistled three times, and clicked his tongue twice. Stuart barked once, and ran off. Brett turned to Dustin. "What did you do?" he demanded.
"Told him to get Martha out of here." he said, lunging towards Brett with the knife. He hadn't expected Dustin to attack, so Brett got a decent gash on his arm as he drew back.
Dustin was quickly on the defensive when Brett pulled out another knife, and attacked. They both fought ferociously, and received cuts from the other. Dustin had a large cut on his chest, spanning the entirety of his rib cage, and he flung the knife at Brett. It caught him in the leg, making him howl and drop both his knives.
Suddenly they both heard a large thud against the door, and it cracked. "Good boy! Do it again." Dustin praised his dog, and got into a fighting stance. He aimed a kick at Brett's hurt leg, and lost his balance as he slipped on the blood-slicked floor. There was another thud on the door, and a crack appeared on their side of it. "Again, Stuart. Harder." he said.
Dustin was standing up, when there was a sharp pain from his ribs. Brett had taken another slash at his chest, and had reopened the wound. "You're a dead man, Henderson." Brett muttered, and aimed another slash at him. Dustin ducked out of the way, and rolled onto his side.
Stuart rammed into the door, and broke through. He rushed over to Martha, and bit down on the rope to drag her out. He immediately let go of the rope, and whined. It had cut his tongue. Dustin looked back at Stuart, and saw his tongue bleed. He turned angrily to Brett. "Why would you use Code Drastic? She's practically harmless." he demanded.
Brett grinned. "Because she is dangerous. Or haven't you realized she's corrupting you?" he asked with honey-coated sweetness. Dustin punched him in the face, and smirked when he felt Brett's nose crack under his fist. Martha coughed, and Brett glanced at her, then turned back to Dustin.
"Have fun trying to save her. Drastic protocol calls for... Drastic measures." he said, standing in the doorway. Dustin's eyes widened. "You don't mean..." he whispered.
"Yes, I do mean the cloth. It's been soaked in nightshade extract, and she's been inhaling the fumes for... Oh, about a half hour now." he laughed, and left.
Dustin whistled Stuart to go after Brett, and he ran to Martha. He tore the cloth away, and carefully took off the ropes. Her breaths were shallow and rapid. He felt her pulse and it was too fast. The ropes had been made of razor sharp metal wires, so they had cut her when she struggled against them.
Martha moaned in pain when he picked her up. "Hurts." she whispered softly. Dustin could barely hear her, and growled deep in his throat when he held her, as she nudged the deep cut across his chest. He set her down on the bed, and left to clean up. He cleaned the wound on his chest, and his breath hissed in his teeth as he bandaged it tightly. "Lucky it wasn't deeper." he muttered, and went back to check on Martha.
Her moans were getting louder, and Dustin checked her over quickly. There were little cuts and slits in the skin on her stomach and back, as though Brett had been testing his knife on her. The cuts on her arms weren't bleeding anymore, although her breathing wasn't getting any better. "Martha, can you hear me?" he asked loudly.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked around the whole room before focusing on Dustin, which she could barely manage. She wrapped both arms across her chest, coughing so hard she gagged. The coughing subsided, leaving her gasping for breath.
"Kill me, Dustin. Hurts too much." she muttered, and sat up, leaning against the wall. "No, Martha, no. I can't do that, sweetheart." he whispered, and brushed her hair behind her ear. She was sweating, and Dustin touched her forehead. It was hot, so he went to grab an ice pack from the kitchen.
Stuart came back as he was looking, and held Dustin's knife proudly in his mouth. "Good boy, Stuart. Very good boy." he said, and scratched him under the chin. He finally found an ice pack, and took it back to Martha. He put it on her forehead, and she groaned softly. "C- c- cold." she whispered, and Dustin lay her down, covering her with blankets. "I know, I know. Just... let me help you." he said, and finally looked at the red marks on Martha's neck.
It looked like someone had tried to tie a rope around her neck, and had almost succeeded in killing her. Though he could see fingernail marks, which meant she had gotten the rope off herself. "Good girl." he whispered. If she could pull a rope off her neck, especially when Brett had been the one to attack her, she would be okay.
He hoped.
Martha had fallen into a feverish sleep, so Dustin decided to clean up the mess they had made fighting. He took out the broken door, and decided to leave the doorway as it was, so that she couldn't lock him out again. Cleaning up the blood on the floor, he started hearing things.
It took a moment for him to figure out Martha was mumbling in her sleep.
Dustin frowned slightly, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Hoping to understand what her nightmare was, he stood closer to her, listening.
"No." she muttered. "No, no." Her breathing grew heavier. "No, no. No, no, no." she kept saying.
In her dream, Martha was running. From what, she didn't know, but she could hear its monstrous breathing, and thunderous footsteps, she knew she had to get away. There were shadow figures running with her, some afraid, others looking like this was a fun thing, like they wanted to run.
Then there were the rest, who seemed to run circles around her as she ran, taunting her. They were voicing all her doubts, all her fears, and she was trying to outrun them. There was a howl from behind her, and she ran faster over the forest ground. She was lucky there were no roots to trip her, and she wanted so badly to be out of the forest.
"That's not true." she said, and began tossing and turning on the bed. Dustin looked up from the floor to see Martha gasping and writhing. "Martha! Fight it, fight back. Nothing's true. You're only sleeping." he said, and sat next to her on the bed. He shook her side, hoping to wake her.
The shadow figures began taunting her, saying she was slow, that she was a terrible person. That she herself was the reason her parents hated her. At the mention of her parents, she slowed a bit, but kept running. Starting to cry, she managed to outrun the shadow figures, only for them to catch up with her. Though this time, they were smaller, and flew around her on dark wings that were sharp as knives. The ground started to shake, and she stumbled.
Martha saw a cliff up ahead, and tried to stop, but she had too much momentum and fell off the cliff. She plummeted to the ground, which was so far from her she could only see a blur as she fell. Falling through clouds, she kept crying, waiting for the end to come. She saw the ground, and grew scared as the sharp rocks got closer and closer.
She hit the ground, and was taken to another place.
It was dark, and there were torches that lit the walls, and it smelled damp. Then light shone in the middle of the room, and she flinched at the bright light. There were the black metal ropes tied to pillars, and she heard the sounds of a struggle from somewhere behind her.
Martha turned, and saw Dustin being held down by the man who had caught her earlier. She started towards them, and felt herself being held by two shadow figures. She struggled, and they just kept hold of her, dragging her backwards towards the ropes. "Dustin! Dustin, help!" she cried, but it was no use. She was fastened to the pillars, and the ropes cut her skin. There was a sound like a long scaled thing dragging on the ground from behind her, but she ignored it, thinking it wasn't important. She kept looking at Dustin, who was still fighting.
"Dustin, look out!" she shouted, as the man holding him down pulled out a knife. The man looked at her, and she felt a whip coming down on her back. She cried out, and the man pinning Dustin slit his throat, killing him.
"No!" she cried, and twisted around under the blankets. "Dustin! No!" she shouted, and started writhing more violently, tangling herself in the blankets. She started struggling for breath and gasping. Dustin felt helpless, unable to do anything to help her.
She was struggling against the ropes, cutting herself as she tried to get away from the whip. She was hit with it again, and it seemed to hurt more every time. Her wrists were bleeding, and she could feel blood drip down her back. Then the man that killed Dustin came up to her, and slit her skin. She felt it burn as it cut her, and she screamed. The man stabbed her neck, and she bolted awake, panting and crying.
Martha couldn't see Dustin, and started panicking. "Dustin! Where are you?" she shouted, and got up out of the bed. She fell to the floor, and footsteps came running. She panted, wind knocked out of her, and suddenly got a mouthful of dust and dirt from the door breaking earlier.
"Martha, what are you doing?" Dustin asked her, pulling her up. She was still crying, and Dustin held her. "What's wrong?" he whispered. "N- n- nightmares." she said softly, and hugged him tightly. Dustin growled, and she let go of him. "Did I hurt you?" she asked. "N- no." he said through gritted teeth. "I fought him." he told her softly, looking her in the eyes.
"You... fought him?" she whispered. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he nodded. "Are you alright? You were poisoned." he asked her, holding her tight to him, even though it hurt.
Martha heard him growl again, and she pulled away. Or, tried to, anyway. Dustin just held her tighter, even when it made him groan, he looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Dustin let me go. I'm hurting you." she said, trying to pull away. He finally let go of her, and started to cough.
"Dustin?" Martha asked. He looked up at her, and she could see the pain in his eyes. "Sit down." she said. He shook his head. "Hurts." he growled. "Then lie down. Don't just stand here. Let me help." she demanded.
Martha being demanding was new to him. He didn't like it one bit, and he was surprised enough he listened to her. He lay down on the bed, and Martha left. She came back, a little pale, but she was carrying bottles of medicine and medical supplies. She set them down, and sat on the bed.
"Okay." she whispered, and turned to Dustin, standing next to him. "I'm going to need you to- to take off your shirt." she said, turning red.
Dustin chuckled at her embarrassment, and did as she asked. She gasped softly at the cut as she unwrapped it. "I'm so sorry." she whispered, "This is all because of me. I'm so, so sorry." Dustin sat up, leaning against the wall, and took her hand. "Hey. This-" he motioned to the cut, "is not your fault. It's mine, if it's anyone's fault. I was stupid, and left myself unprotected. That's all." he whispered. She nodded, and started to work.
He gritted his teeth as she pulled off the gauze covering the wound, and did his best not to shout as she cleaned it out with antiseptic. It felt like she was burning him, and Martha started to cry. "Why are you crying?" he asked softly, opening his eyes, and unclenching his fists. "I can't finish. I- I can't, I'm just..." she breaks down, and sits cross-legged on the floor.
Dustin looks down at her. He wished he could move, but if he did, it would start the bleeding again, with nothing to cover it. "Martha, please just tell me what's wrong." he said softly. "I can't do it. I- I hate seeing you like that..." she whispered. "Like what?" he asked. "Like this." she motioned to him. "I'm the one that's supposed to get hurt. I'm weaker. I can't fight for myself like you can. That's why I was hurt so much, I couldn't resist. I'm not strong enough. But you are." she whispered. "I... can't..." she was taking huge gasps of air now, and looking pained. Dustin carefully wrapped his chest in the new bandages, and stood.
"See, Martha? I'm perfectly fine." he said, pulling her up. Dustin checked the clock. "It's three o'clock." he said softly. She shrugged. "I- I-" she took a deep breath. "I don't care anymore." she whispered.
He pulled her in for a hug. Martha held back for a moment, then finally wrapped her arms around his neck. "You are plenty strong." Dustin muttered. "You can fight. You have no idea what you are capable of." he whispered. "I saw those marks on your neck. You got yourself out of it. You weren't killed by him. I'd say that's amazing." he said, and brushed her hair out of her face.
"When I was... tied up. I heard... things. I'm not sure what it was, but I think I heard you guys fighting. I vaguely remember him calling you 'Dustin Henderson', and I remember you called him..." she trailed off, looking confused, trying to remember.
Looking up at Dustin, Martha was pale, and couldn't explain anything. "What?" he asked softly. "You- you knew him. The man who attacked me. You... knew him." she whispered. Dustin looked pained at the way she said those words. "Yes. I knew him. I don't know him anymore. He's... changed." he said softly.
"I want you to answer truthfully. Does this-" Martha motioned to his cut, and herself, "have anything to do with- with that club question you asked me yesterday?" she asked.
Dustin nodded, and bit his lip. "Yes. It has everything to do with all of this. It's why both of us got hurt today." he whispered. Martha looked at him like he was crazy. "So... you weren't making it up. The rule says you can't fall in love with anyone..." she murmured. "Then... we can't go tonight." she whispered to herself. "We can't go... anywhere together." she said quietly. "No, we-" she had a panicky look, "if this is going to keep happening, we can't be anywhere near each other." she realized, and started to struggle to try and get out of his arms. "Darling, I can't let you do that." he whispered. "I don't want you to get hurt!" she exclaimed, struggling.
"What about you?" he asked softly. "I don't care if I get hurt. I do care if you get hurt. And you already have, because of me!" she said, struggling harder. Dustin just held her still. "The only way I can protect you, is if I stay next to you. It's the only way we will be safe. The only way I can protect you, and the only way you can protect me." he said softly.
Martha stopped struggling, and looked up at him. "H- how can I, of all people... protect you?" she asked. "By staying close, and not pushing me away when I try to help you." he whispers, brushing hair out of her face, and hugging her tightly.
"N- not too tight, Dustin." she said breathlessly. "It still hurts to breathe..." He loosened his grip on her. "I'm so sorry." he said, and held her close to him by the waist instead. "But it's probably for the best if I go home tonight." he said. "Yeah. I'll- I'll call if anything goes wrong." Martha whispered, and pulled away. He looked at her a little sadly, and nodded. "I love you, Sweetheart." he says, and goes to get his jacket. He pulls it on slowly, gritting his teeth, and Martha sits next to him. He kissed her forehead, and started to leave. "Wait." she says, and he turns around. "Yes?" "Here's my key." she whispers, and hands it to Dustin, who puts it in his pocket. "See you in the morning, Darlin'." he said, and goes out the door.
She watched Dustin shut the door to her apartment, then went to her room, and sat on her bed. Martha sighed, and laid down. She must have fallen asleep, because she woke suddenly in the middle of the night. 'Why did I wake up?' she wondered, and stayed still. Martha reached for her phone, which was on the bedside table. She called Dustin.
He woke up to hear his phone ringing next to him. "Who would call this time of night?" he wondered. Dustin picked up, and answered. "Hello?" he said. "Dustin?" came the whispered reply.
He sat up, now wide awake. "Martha, is something wrong?" he asked. "No. I just suddenly woke up. I don't know why, but I feel like something's watching me." she said softly. "I'm scared."
Dustin quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt, changing out of his night clothes, and quietly went downstairs. Her door was locked, and he unlocked it. There was no noise, and he made his way to Martha's room without turning on the lights. He checks the entire place, and no one's there. In the silence, he can hear her fast quiet breathing, and pokes his head in her room. Her shining brown eyes are the only part of her he can see from the depths of her blankets. "Dustin?" comes her muffled voice. He can tell she's scared from the slight quaver to her voice, so he nods, and sits next to her. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, and looks into the pile of blankets.
She peers out at him through the covers, and shakes her head, which makes the entire mound move. Dustin fights a laugh, and pulls back the top blanket covering her head. Martha has become like a rabbit again, he can almost envision her twitching nose, and smiles softly. Eventually she calms down, and smiles back at him.
"What made you scared?" Duston asked her, pulling her from the blankets. "It was this... this feeling of being watched." Martha whispers, and pulls the blanket up around her shoulders. "Hey, hey, I'm here now... it's okay, Martha." he says, and strokes her hair softly. She looks at him warily, and relaxes under the soft brushes of his fingers in her hair.